#its so much easier to access shit again

[gothwizardmagic]

remember when tumblr looked like this back in 2015 and everyone was furious when they got rid of the sidebar 🤷‍♂️

[bonetrousledbones]

tumblr mobile updates are really consistently just one step forward three steps back every single time huh

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Could i please request something with reader getting a large slice on her arm and daryl has to stitch it shut as best he can because they’re on a long run?

Stitches and Kisses

Summary: He'd meant to take her on a date in the woods, well no, he'd meant to ask her on a date in the woods. But now she's bleeding and he's panicking, and is romance always this hard?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Blood. Medical procedures. Angst. Fluff. Nervous!Daryl. Friends to lovers. Prison-era.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request. The idea staff in the crumbling factory that is my brain have gone on strike so I'm so grateful to everyone who's sent in requests to get my cogs turning again!

-

They’ve learnt, as a collective, never to say ‘it’ll be a simple run’, but he just fucking had to, didn’t he? Had to try and convince her to come out to the woods, because he thought he was ready to tell her he loved her. He’s never been romantic, has never had the opportunity or the inclination, but women liked this stuff, right? That’s what Merle had said, ‘chicks dig all that mushy shit’, and it’s not like he has access to candles and music and…teddy bears, maybe. But he had the woods, and she likes the woods, the birdsong and the flowers, the lack of walls. So he could take her to the trees and he could ask if maybe she likes him too, and shit asking was so much easier in front of the mirror in the prison showers.

It’s going great. So far he’s snapped at her because he was nervous, tripped on a stick of all things and spilled a full bottle of water all over the ground, they’ve been ambushed by an unexpected herd and now she’s gashed her arm open trying to pry the door open with the knife. He’s fucked it, royally, sideways and without a shadow of a doubt. You just can’t confess your affection for someone whilst covered in their blood and pouring alcohol into a wound, can you? It’s not the done thing.

In hindsight the knife thing might have been her fault, but when has that ever stopped him taking the blame? At least she’d gotten the door open, barricading it behind them before she realised how deep she’d sliced.

She sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth as the liquid hits the cut, and he flicks his glance quickly up to her face to catch her eyes squeezed closed. He’s never been okay at this part of runs, not really; he can sort an injury out, sure, he’s stitched himself up numerous times, he’s not bad at it, but even if he knows logically that its necessary it feels too much like inflicting harm. It eats at him for the rest of the day, every time, longer when its her.

“’M sorry” he mumbles, hovering his spare hand above her knee as she perches on the bench in front of him. He likes touching her, finds comfort in it usually but he’s never the one to initiate. She’d put her hand on top of his and hold it all day if she wasn’t squeezing her own fist closed quite so hard. The pain is awful, stinging and pulsing at the same time, but the look on his face is almost worse.

“If you apologise every time this hurts we’re never going to get it done”

He scoffs, blowing the hair out of his eye as he does so. It’s a deep cut, mere inches past where it could have hit something major, and he has to swallow hard around nothing as he puts the bottle down by his side. Walkers are groaning outside the door, unaware of their presence but far too close for him not to be concerned, he needs to get her stitched up. The bag rustles as he rummages with one hand for a needle and thread, he knows they’re in there somewhere, but a murmured curse leaves his dry lips as his panicking fingers fail to locate them.

“Daryl” finally pressing her palm to his knuckles, bringing his hand down to her leg with a gentle squeeze as if he’s the one that’s injured. His fingers still inside the bag, locking his eyes with hers, clocking the pained but confident determination on her face. “We’re going to be fine”

Nodding, he moves the hand off her knee with a brief pat before turning fully to the bag, reaching into it to locate the small plastic case that holds a sewing kit. Now still hands thread the needle carefully, gripping it firmly as he snaps his lighter, holding the end under the flame to sterilise.

“’S gon’ hurt”

“I know the drill” She smiles, reassuringly, and if he wasn’t so besotted with her he’d berate her for it, the overwhelming need she has to placate him, to work out his feelings before he’s had a chance to feel them. He usually finds comfort in it, relief that someone understands him well enough for him not to always have to explain himself. But now he’s irritated that she seems to be so set on how he’s doing when she’s bleeding right onto his fucking jeans.

He wants to smile back like he always does, but he hates it, can’t stand that she knows the drill, there shouldn’t be a drill, she should be warm and protected and happy in a normal world, far away from all of this. She’d be away from him but at least she’d be safe and he thinks maybe that’s a sacrifice he’d make it he could.

The thought is shaken away from him as the needle hooks under her skin and she lets out a low whine of pain, dragging an expletive under her breath. It burns. A different pain from the slicing of her flesh, which was at least quick, stitching a wound is slow, like fire poking at the surface in a drawn-out pierce.

“I know, ‘m sorry”

She slumps forward, resting her head on his shoulder so she doesn’t keep looking down at the needle going in, her body is hot and cold all at once, nausea coiling at the back of her throat, why did she have to look? He works as fast as he can whilst still being gentle, it’s impossible not to cause pain but if he can limit any of it he will. Maybe if he’d have told her he loved her this morning, before she’d hopped on the back of his bike, she’d know he didn’t mean any of the hurt he’s currently inflicting.

He turns slightly, voice low as he whispers in her ear. He can’t afford to get distracted now, but he can’t stand the way she’s whimpering against his collarbone so he pauses as he speaks, trying to ignore how it feels to have her cradled so close into him.

“’S’alright, almost done”

A punched chuckle against his shirt shoots from her when the needle pierces her skin again, its synced with a tight grip on her own knee, the kind of laugh that comes out instinctively with pain, the same one he heard when he had to pop her shoulder back into its socket once. On bad days, when his brain is somehow too busy and too quiet, he can still hear the crunch.

“Sorry, I’m being pathetic” she breathes against the fabric of his shirt, trying hard to resist the urge to bite the material for something to ground her.

“Nah, shit hurts, ya need t’ take a break?”

“No, keep going”

He wraps her arm in a spare bandage when he’s finished, watching her sway a little on the bench. Arms out in front of him in case she falls, he watches as she sips the small amount of water he’s handed over. She’s lost a fair amount of blood, not enough to kill her but enough that he’s worried about getting them back safely. Her fingers brush against his when she hands the bottle back, and he’s briefly thankful for the walkers that make him turn to look at the door, hiding his blush.

“We gotta get back t’ camp”

She hops off the bench with a slight wobble in her step, looking down to see if her arm is bleeding through the bandage; she’s unsurprised when it’s not, Daryl’s adept at a lot of things and anyone surprised that he’s as sufficient in care as he is in battle doesn’t know him very well.

“Daryl, we have stuff to get, there’s still at least three places that haven’t been raided”

Her face is pale and drawn. He knows she’s faking feeling alright because he’s been studying her every expression since the moment they met. He knows the way her face moves with each emotion, the arch in her brow, the set of her lips, the way her eyes change colour ever so slightly. He knows that she needs to see Hershel.

“Nah, ya need to get this sorted. I can come back”

“Daryl-“

“No” his voice is short and sharp, accent lost under the clipped insistence as he shoulders the bag of supplies, readying to take on the meandering walkers that remain between them and the bike “Ain’t risking ya, not for nothin’”

“People are relying on us, we need supplies”

He turns towards the door, takes three strides forward before stopping, fighting the battle in his head, he knows they need to keep going, but he’s almost out of water and she’s lost enough blood for him to be worried. Tense shoulders tighten.

“If it’s ya, or supplies, or anyone else, I pick ya, every time” His voice lowers as he turns, body stiff as he faces her, holds her line of sight in a way that should make him nervous but there’s something close to anger in his face, the resentment that she could possibly think he wouldn’t put her first “Dun’ ever make me choose”

“Why?” She studies him for a moment, eyes softening in realisation as she finally understands the way he looks at her, the way he’s always looked at her, the way she’s looked at him and been so blind not to notice. Hope starts squashing the insecurity she’s had over her feelings “Oh”

When he doesn’t move, eyes flicking full of panic between her and the floor, she steps towards him gingerly, one foot slowly treading the ground at a time to make sure he’s not about to turn and run the other way.

His eyes are wide as she rests a hand on his cheek, thumb running tentatively over his cheekbone. She feels him release a breath.

“Can I kiss you?”

He nods, a stuttering shake of the head that has her almost laughing, she’s gotten used to his acerbic wit in the face of discomfort, he hasn’t been quiet with her in months, not like this. His breathing stutters, swallowing heavily as she kisses his jaw, slowly, unwilling to spook. She moves her lips across; never leaving his skin as she trails kisses all the way along to his lips, pausing at them.

She can feel his breath against her lips and she flicks her gaze up slowly to look at him, pupils blown dark and wide as his body stays stock still, as if he is afraid of scaring her off, afraid of running himself.

“I’d pick you too”

She’s wanted him for so long the moment her lips touch his she’s pretty sure she’s actually died and is well on her way to thanking her lucky stars when his hands settle against her hips, pulling her against him firmly. It’s the shake in the arm that she tries to move around his waist that makes him pull away; breath heavy and lids drooping but his demeanour is firm when she tries to lean back in. He doesn’t want her to regret this when she’s not worn out from injury so he stops her.

He brushes a strand of hair out of her face, other hand giving her hip a gentle squeeze, thumb resting on the waistline of her jeans. A small, quirk of a lip smile graces his face.

“Nah, ya can kiss me ‘gain when ya got all ya blood back, c’mon”

[theredpharaoah]

Dare I say we give Giles too much. I think him not giving Buffy the Slayer Handbook was dumb and ignorant. The Handbook didn’t just have rules for the Slayer, it was the definitive guide to magic on Earth and its history. The fact they never pull it out again after the first episode irritates the hell out of me. How helpful would that have been for all the Scoobies - Willow could’ve picked up magic way quicker. It probably would’ve helped Buffy hone the psychic abilities she never really developed. Remember how she’s supposed to be able to sense vampires and stuff? And in the comics, Erin had access to all the Slayer memories(I’m pretty sure) because he inherited the psychic side of the lineage. Again, that could’ve been cool to see and very helpful.

I also feel - as stated many times before - Giles completely failed with Faith. People talk about how Buffy built up that rapport with Giles and her friends - that she made their relationship the way it was. But that’s irrelevant because the relationship was present and stable at the time of Faith’s arrival. We see when Kendra comes that even the Giles is a bit taken-aback to her very by-the-book approach to being a slayer. So when Faith came - who is extremely similar to Buffy - how did Giles not immediately feel that paternal instinct he has with Buffy, Willow, and Xander? That sort of instinct comes easier the more people you consider to be your “children”. I mean it’s crazy that The Mayor had to take Faith out of that nasty ass motel. A literal demon had to go “that’s no place for a young girl”. And sure he had a motive but the fact that none of the decent people had already said it? And the way they handled the accidental kill of the evil assistant to the mayor? First of all, the Slayer killing humans is frowned upon but it’s not a hard and fast rule. I’m not saying they should just go around killing ppl, but I’m not going to feel bad that Faith killed a man who was working for demons anyway. And compare that to how they reacted to Buffy Killing Ted(when they thought she had); completely different reaction. And Buffy had exhibited far more animosity towards Ted, than Faith had for some random who got in the way.

Giles as an adult - and something of an educator - should’ve immediately clocked that Faith did not have the same upbringing as the other 3, that the Scoobies were falling into their childish instincts and alienating her, and he should’ve gone out of his way to include her and impress upon the others why they needed to accept her. Especially after they found out about her Watcher’s death and saw how terrified she was of Kakistos. Why did Buffy and Angel have to be the ones to find out Faith needed to be fought for - that she needed help to deal with her trauma. I was really disappointed in Buffy as she’d lost her watcher and relocated just like Faith. She also understood how lonely and dangerous it is being a Slayer. But I can’t blame Buffy all that much cuz she’s a kid. And Giles willing all of his things to Faith in the comics and only the Slayer Handbook to Buffy did not move me. Giles considered Buffy to be the “One True Slayer” was not a gag. Everyone considers her to be that, giving her this handbook after she’s been a Slayer for damn near a decade is insulting. She don’t need that shit no more - she had to learn it all on the job. And giving Faith his money so she could retire from violence? Faith’s violence wasn’t the issue, her relationship to it was. The whole thing read as very melodramatic and self-absorbed.

Giles was very childish and we see it all throughout the series, but especially in the later seasons. I mean when you actually think about it, he’s so ridiculous. Buffy was 22 at the end of the series. 22 and she has to take care of a teen sister, pay mortgage, bills, etc. Could you imagine that amount of responsibility at that age? Our society still considers 22 year olds to be pseudo-teens for the most part. And he left cuz he “didn’t want her to become dependent on him”…what type of shit? She was already dependent on you - you’d been her Father Figure since she was 16 and throughout a boatload of trauma. You pretty much raised the girl. And you know that - that’s why you had a dream of taking child Buffy to the fair. He’s human, but that doesn’t excuse the level of cowardice he exhibited for me.

Also, I think instead of killing Jenny in Passions, they should’ve had her live. I think she would’ve been great as Faith’s mentor. And while she didn’t take the Scoobies to task for blaming her about Angel and alienating her, I definitely think she would’ve gotten them together for their treatment of Faith. I also think she would’ve pointed out Giles’ differential treatments of the two.

[rikeijo]

I’m glad I found your post. All the other posts I found about the movie cancellation wasn’t as in depth as your posts. I eventually was able to come to the same conclusion as you did but I didn’t realize the screening didn’t go well. 😮‍💨I remember it taking place in Japan and I regretted not being able to just go to Japan and see it. I just don’t understand how the trailer flopped, I feel like the trailer/teaser in 2020 did fairly well online with 4 million views

Hello again!

The trailer really flopped, and it wasn't even a surprise to most people. It's just that because people in the Eng fandom have limited access to info, it's easier to dismiss all bad things as made up (unrelated, but like people believe that all the unsavory tweets by Mitsurou are made up, but they aren't... Quite the opposite, they are very in-character for her public persona), and only focus on the good stuff, while the reality was that YoI fandom in Jp was and still is known as being quite unhinged to put it mildly.

The trailer flopped mainly because fujoshis simply moved from YoI to the next popular thing (now they are probably like 4 or 5 ships further) and a lot of people, who stayed in the fandom were those people, who treat YoI as nothing more but inspiration for VicYuu porn anyway, so they didn't want to see their 'seme' character in a frilly skirt. Some people also felt that the fandom is just too cursed and left (constant complaining that official merch is shit, official arts are shit and not VicYuu, making fun of artists that drew those arts, Mitsurou-hating, Avex-hating, other staff members-hating, prequel movie-hating, because how dare they make a prequel movie about feminine Victor? YoI should be just a nice playground for VicYuu fujos! The creators should just bend their knees and stop being difficult 😡).

This is the result:

Part I (Ep. 1-4 + teaser)

25025 seats/ 6906 tickets sold 25626/4430 25041/2461 24966/1124 24358/917 24356/1096 23201/859

Only 17793 out of 172573 seats sold, that means 90% of seats were empty.

Part II (Ep. 5-8 + teaser)

19263/4449 17475/3625 14693/2283 17822/1022 17721/858 18176/1125 17291/828

Part III (Ep. 9-12 + teaser)

11452/4834 9653/4684 9815/3697 11608/1992 11003/1726 11732/2033 11087/1980

Overall total 70722 out of 543937 seats sold during those 3 weeks - that's only 13%, even though in week 2 and 3, the number of seats was already reduced, because it was unprofitable to keep it at week 1 level (this is how it works - too many seats, the seats are reduced; too few seats, the seats are added). The data are from here. It's a very unfair comparison, but the last Eva eg. did around 250000 on day one, even though it was Monday, iirc. JJK almost 800000... on day one. Conan today has 180000, even though it's its 4th week.

Just imagine how much IceAdo would cost to produce, taking into consideration that they asked multiple Olympic-level skaters for choreography and the budget was planned when YoI was hyper popular.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

11 and 14 with David 🫶🙂 I love ur writing it’s amazing

11. "Star said you were out of town."

14. "Do you want me to kiss it better?"

I hope you'll like this!💜

---------------------------

I sighed deeply as I locked my door behind me. The past couple of days had been exhausting. Making calls, day in, and day out. Running errands. Making sure everyone was exactly where they were supposed to be - which none of them were even if they were told multiple times where to go. Sure, organising the event had been fun, but damn - I'd be kidding if I said I felt alive at this very moment.

I dropped my bags on the welcoming mat, kicking my shoes off, dropping my coat on the floor. Tomorrow, I'd probably regret doing that and force myself to tidy it all up, but now I couldn't care less.

I walked into my kitchen, searching the cabinets for a wineglass. I knew I had them somewhere, but - this I also knew - I probably hadn't cleaned them up since last time I used them. It had been last Sunday when David had come by to wish me luck on my gig. I'd dropped the wineglasses in the sink the following morning, which is where they were right now. I really didn't want to clean them, so I decided to just pick a normal glass - it would still fulfil its purpose.

I grinned as I saw that the bottle was still half full, and with both glass and wine bottle in hand, I walked up the stairs to my bedroom. I'd decided on my trip back that tonight I'd do some well-deserved selfcare, have a good night's sleep afterwards, and sleep the day away.

The bathtub filled itself with hot water, the air quickly taking on the smell of my rosemary soap. I poured some wine in the glass before looking at it. It'd be easier to just drink straight from the bottle... putting the glass aside, I stepped into the bath, taking a long sip from the bottle.

The water was hot against my skin, soothing the soreness I'd gotten over the past few days. I closed my eyes, washed my body and hair, and only thought about getting out of the tub when the water turned cold. Once out, I decided that I had enough time and energy to also shave my legs - it's not that I thought it was a necessity to look nice, it's just that the softness of the blankets was much better appreciated with freshly saved legs. I put my bathrobe on, gathering everything I needed.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub, one leg on the outside used to keep myself steady, the other stretched so I could reach everything. I began to shave, working quickly - only to pause when I heard a strange noise.

A sound as if glass was slowly being broken, wood being pulled apart - I frowned. I listened. But when it stopped, I continued to shave. The first leg was done, and I moved to get access to the second. I was way less steady this time, still sitting on the edge of the tub, but now really needing to balance myself - the bathtub was still slippery and I didn't feel like actually turning around so I could feel a bit more balanced. I began to shave, and once again stopped when I heard a noise.

"Hello?"

No answer. I waited. Still nothing. I continued to shave, being almost done when suddenly -

"Hello kitten."

I jumped, slipping - my limbs went everywhere, and before I fully realised I was halfway upside down in the bathtub, my leg bleeding from a small cut made.

"Jesus fucking shit! You can't just barge in on people like that!"

David chuckled, taking my hand as he helped me up. "Sorry love. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I think so."

He looked at me, kissing me softly, before I noticed his eyes taking on a slight hint of orange. "You're bleeding."

"You- have you fed?"

"I wouldn't endanger you." He grinned at me. "But you do smell divine."

"Awesome," I mumbled, looking at the cut. "It hurts, though."

"Do you want me to kiss it better?"

I bit my lip as I looked at him. "You just want to taste me."

"I think I've already done that many a time."

"Pervert."

He chuckled. Before I knew it, his mouth was on my leg, leaving soft wet kisses on the skin around the cut. I could have sworn I heard him moan when he actually licked up my blood.

"I- I eh think I'm okay now," I said softly, not trusting my voice.

"Come," he pulled me towards him, leading me to my bed. "How was your trip?"

I blinked - before telling him. How one of the bands had been running so late they'd missed their performance time, how angry they got when I told them that we could not switch around anymore, that they couldn't play. How two staged had happened to get the same name, and how every single artist got confused. How shitty the food was. But also about how wonderful it had been to see my vision come to live. How most of the artists had the time of their lives. Yeah, it had been great.

When I was done telling, I lay on his chest, smiling as he brushed his fingers through my hair. He'd taken the glass of wine I'd set aside taking a sip every now and then.

"Why did you step by? I mean, I wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow."

"I saw your lights were on."

"Ah, you were stalking me again," I said with a grin, causing him to chuckle.

"No. I was just checking up. Star said you were out of town. Still that is."

"You worry about me?" I asked with a soft smile.

"You know what I think of you."

"Remind me." I grinned, trying to hide a yawn behind my hands.

"You're a bloody gift from heaven itself."

I chuckled. "You only say that because I'm your mate."

"It must be true then, hm?"

I smiled, sighing softly. "Will you stay with me?"

"I'll stay till dawn." He kissed me gently, wrapping a blanket around me. "Sleep tight, kitten."

[stilljuststardust]

I’m a 15 years old girl and my parents are very homophobic

Today my mom made me sat down because she thinks that I wanna turn into a boy and she told me for my old sis to also come downstairs to talk about it cause they found it weird mind you they’re very religious

After my big sis came downstairs my mom started talking about how I act like a boy when I’m a girl also that God made me a girl so why would I try to change into a girl and also said that if I keep acting like this she would take all my electronics

And send me somewhere else where I won’t see her and my siblings ever again

I’m crying so much because I did everything to change myself to become normal like others straight but nothing works and I found out that I want to be a boy I tried everything like manifesting being a man nothing it working and circumstances keeps getting worse and worse till the point it making me depressed like maybe I’m stuck this way maybe I will never be a man

I’m so scared cause she said if I don’t change I will not have access to phone I’m having a bad breakdown rn idk what to do anymore I’m so lost

But part of me still believes I’m a man no matter what

Hello, before I give you LOA advice let's talk

You ARE a man. You are a man. You are a man.

You are a man no matter what.

You don't have to do anything to be a man. It's who you are deep down in the pit of your soul. You already are a man.

Not just in an LOA sense, I'm saying this from a non-manifesting perspective: you are not a girl.

You will never be a girl, you never were. Do you understand that? Who you are as a person is a man.

I'm like you.

It's ok to be a trans. Being trans is normal. Half my friends are trans, I'm trans. You aren't alone, you aren't the only one. There is nothing wrong with you.

Firstly I would like to say, always always always prioritize your safety and well-being.

I know it's easier said than done but the closet exists for a reason. It keeps us safe. Do not come out if it would put you in danger. You do not have to be out to be valid.

I hate that my advice is to fawn and pretend to be something you're not, but its safest sometimes.

It feels so far away now, but there will be a time when you are free to be who you are. You will find people who support you. You will find people who are like you. When I was in your place 18 felt so far away and unreachable, but it's not. Freedom will come. Please hold on.

Link to The Trevor project. (Councilors and hotline for queer people who are struggling mentally)

Loa

At the end there will be a handful of LOA posts I think you should read/you might be interested in + subliminals for you. The most important one in my opinion being the one I list first.

The law gets over complicated alot. At the end of the day it boils down to this.

An assumption, though false, if persisted in will harden into fact.

An assumption being something you accept as the truth without needing evidence and persistence meaning you assume regardless of what the 3D shows you.

Essentially, you decide you have your desire and you are stubborn in that decision.

It's ok to feel intense emotions, it's ok to be scared and hurt and frustrated, you just have to assume that no matter what the physical world shows you you are undeniably biologically male.

There is no more advice to give, there is only the law. Assume, affirm, persist.

The posts

How I manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances (blushydior)

If it's too long a read (seriously I think you should read the whole thing either way) here's the parts I thought would benefit you the most

What you need to know about loa

How to ignore the 3D

Nothing is true until you decide it is

It's ok to feel like shit

Loa checklist

Subliminals and affirmation tapes

Revise past negative events

Desired body

Mind over matter

It's done

Your desire is a fact

I keep getting results

If you need motivation

@loasuccessarchive

[onmyyan]

I love Caspian, the perfect soft yandere!

If his darling tried to leave would he be the pathetic cry baby who sobs as they try to leave and the guilt makes them stay or the possessive "You can't" and keeps them restrained kind?

A/N: WOOOO I love him n I wont him feedback is always welcomed hope u like🖤 (EDITED 12/16/22)

T/W's: Cis fem reader, Yandere shenanigans, manipulating but the hot kind, cursing

Okay, so the fun thing about Cas is he is charming. Like poured all his points into charisma, any chance to fight or argue is crushed by his silver tongue, people look at him and assume he's all brawn and no brain and he liked it that way, made it easier to crush vermin but I digress, we got a master manipulator on our hands, he'd never use his powers for anything that could cause you harm of course!

It's everyone else who's gotta be worried. He would slowly and meticulously isolate you but you're having such a good time you don't notice until someone else points it out. He's so good in fact before you know it he's the only person outside of work you've spoken to for three weeks. You'd been so wrapped up in Caspian everything else faded away, he had that effect on you a lot, you were so enamored with him that you'd completely forgotten about a brunch date with your girls planned ages ago, so when you're rushing around to get ready to leave he's suddenly behind you, his all-encompassing frame pulls you in from behind as he silently takes his morning kiss, his lips taste like maple, warm hands tilted your chin up for deeper access which he explored immediately. His tongue snaked its way in your mouth to dance against your own, the little moan he let out as he pulled away was downright sinful.

"Where you off to looking that fuckin' good." His words had some bite but no malice, suddenly flipped you around to face him, "Lemme' get a proper look at my girl." His hands trailed down your waist with a heated force. He sucked his teeth, shaking his head with that wicked grin, he leaned down to steal another soul-stealing kiss, "S'it my birthday again?" He always made you laugh, your face hot and cheeks sore from grinning like the fool in love you were.

"Just gonna get something to eat with the girls, you remember them right?" You'd turned once more to finish getting ready and missed the meanest expression curl on his face. He nodded, more to himself than you, with a half-hearted laugh. "Course I do."

It was about three weeks into the relationship when you first brought it up. He knew your partner meeting your friends was socially important but truthfully he couldn't give less of a shit at the idea of sharing you with anyone, he did that enough already in his mind. However, the shy way you pitched the idea to him had his heart melting and he had to physically keep his hands occupied so they didn't squish your cheeks. Naturally, he said yes, hoping he could keep himself in check and not scare you off but your little friends sure made it hard.

He remembers the way they stole your attention the entire night you'd introduced him to your friend group. The two women had made up their minds about him before he had gotten a word out he just knew, the slight widening of their eyes and the rapid way they texted under the table, but what sealed it was when you excused yourself to the bathroom, the two women following after you like lemmings.

He debated his actions for a split second before pulling out his phone and logging into the bug he'd installed on your cell. Now- he trusted you with his life, but he also knew how kind and forgiving you could be which the worst kind of people were attracted to. He trusted you to tell him if something was wrong, this was just an extension of that trust.

He caught the shrill voices of your companions with a wince, "-ly shit (y/n) he's is so fine!!" The giggles that followed belonged to you. "It's been so unreal- I feel like-"

"Is it serious?" One interrupted- he thinks her name is Shea, much to his annoyance.

"What do you mean? I think so- I hope so." His blood began to simmer at the two harpies polluting your thoughts. "It feels serious." You said mostly to yourself as the two women were chittering amongst themselves like teenagers, his hand found his chest at the sound of you reaffirming the truth, while you may not know it for certain yet, he knew you were his person.

"Why'd you ask?" You questioned softly, the silence that followed was thick, "Girl it's nothing. I was just asking if you were exclusive or like seeing other people." He could practically see her lewd expression, her tone made his stomach lurch, to think you thought these people were your friends. "Yeah, again I ask why?" You sounded uncomfortable, the edge in your voice only fueled the fire in his belly. She scoffed a laugh, clearly not ready to be called out, "Oh my god (Y/n) baby you are so tight for nothing- I was just seeing if you guys were legit- come on he's ridiculous you can't blame me for asking."

"Yeah don't get upset she was just kidding-come on our food should be there by now." The second woman dismissed your unease and tried to move past the situation which you chalked up to nothing and silently made your way back to the table where he'd been waiting, his phone tucked securely in his pockets. He watched you try to put on a face, to engage and be present but that wench of a woman across from you had ruined your mood.

He pretended to get a text and pulling out all his training in the theater he gasped, suddenly jumping to his feet, shocking all three of you.

"Ma called the bees are back!" He panted as if stressed, quickly grabbing his coat and throwing enough cash on the table to cover you both, you'd stood as well, the pure confusion on your face nearly made him break character, but he stood strong. "I'm sorry- bees?" You asked in disbelief, slipping on your own coat, his hand grabbed your purse for you, the other wrapped around your waist as he began leading you away, "Uh bye? I'll call you later." You yelled over your shoulder, squeezing his hand, "Is your mom okay? What's going on?"

"Oh she's fine I lied." He squeezed the flesh of your hip gently pulling you closer to his side. You couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "You lied to get outta there? Why? Did Shea say something to make you uncomfortable-"

"No- you came back looking sad, and I didn't wanna' yell in such a nice restaurant so I made a call." He kissed the side of your head as you two leisurely walked back to the car, he'd spend the rest of the night showing just how much better company he was.

He is the biggest baby in the universe, and the thought of you being alone with those two demons made his skin crawl, so he'll crank up the drama to 11 and begin moping around until you ask him if he's alright, which doesn't take much as he looks like a kicked puppy. He assures you nothing's wrong but he makes it sound unbelievable until you, being the Angel you are say you're not leaving until he tells you what's going on, cue the waterworks as he "looks" for the words to say, you're by his side in a second, and as soon as you're within reach he's clinging to your middle, the hot tears streaming down his face left a growing stain on the nice dress you'd put on, he'd let himself be consoled by you, let himself be silently rocked and babied until he's "ready" to talk.

"I'm so sorry Honey- I'm keeping you from your brunch, don't worry I'm fine I'm just having a bad day. Go, have fun, I'll be here when you get back." He didn't need to look up to see you shake your head.

"Shut your beautiful face, I'm ordering from your favorite and we're having a self-care day okay baby?" He would nod into the flesh of your stomach, his grip tightening. "Thank you Sugar, you always take care of me, I love you." He's a whiney blubbering mess anytime you try to do anything without him but you're so focused on cheering him up that you don't notice the pattern until it's too late.

[infinite-orangepeel]

Steddie and “Shh use your words, baby.”

turned this one into a full-fledged ao3 oneshot with a whole lot more content. you can read it here :)

ooo i love this !! thanks for sending it in anon, i hope i do your prompt justice 💗

tw: ftm steve harrington (usage of cock, pussy, etc. to refer to his own genitalia), under negotiated kink (but they are both very into it and safe), mutual masturbation, slight orgasm denial/delay

they’re about a month into dating when it happens for the first time.

eddie’s just left steve’s place, after an evening spent cuddled up next to each other on the cushy sofa—pretending to watch a movie. and as always; it only took a few minutes of shared body heat, lingering stares, and wandering hands before steve found himself straddling eddie’s lap and kissing his boyfriend senseless.

it felt good, really good.

steve’s boxers dampening considerably as he humped himself down against the hard line of eddie’s clothed cock. little wanton moans falling from both of their mouths, when eddie’s big hands wrapped around steve’s hips to assist in building more delicious friction.

but just as things were heating up, steve started to get a bit too in his own head about everything and made some stupid excuse to get up and go to the bathroom. essentially ruining his chances of getting laid tonight.

you see, the thing is, eddie hasn’t actually seen steve naked yet and as much as steve trusts and loves his boyfriend, the idea still greatly terrifies him.

thankfully, eddie hasn’t seemed to mind; endlessly understanding and patient as they navigate this new world of intimacy together.

that being said, the second eddie departs from the driveway, steve rushes back inside and sprints upstairs to his bedroom. practically tripping on his own feet as he ascends. horny as a dog in heat and in desperate need of release.

its become routine over the past few weeks. eddie teasing his body, caressing every available inch of his skin, making him soak his underwear, and then leaving for the night—completely clueless as to how insanely turned on steve is.

so once he’s safely back in his room, steve scrambles up onto the bed. the air thickens with want as he hurriedly strips off his jeans and boxers. leaves eddie’s shirt on—a borrowed graphic-tee that’s quickly become a staple. he tucks it into his mouth, so he can inhale the natural musk of his boyfriend and gain easier access to the stiff buds of his nipples. rolls them between his thumb and forefinger as he mounts his favorite pillow—squeezes it between his thighs and whines as his he starts grinding his swollen pussy against it. finally giving into the filthy fantasies that have been clouding his mind all night.

eddie walking in on him isn’t part of the plan—in fact steve half-thinks he’s imagining it when his boyfriend appears out of thin air in the doorway.

“hey baby, sorry to bother you! forgot my jacket and thought i’d—” eddie says casually, as he throws the door to steve’s bedroom wide open and finds him humping his pillow,“oh. oh, fuck.”

eddie’s practically drooling. his mouth is hanging open like he’s trying to catch flies and steve is instantly mortified. covering up as much as possible with his hands.

“eds! shit, you weren’t supposed to see me doing this. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i’m so embarrassed. oh my god—” steve rambles, thoughts automatically going to the worst places.

“don’t be sorry. don’t you ever be sorry,” eddie walks over to the edge of the bed and tilts steve’s chin up with two of his fingers, so he’s forced to meet his gaze, “and don’t you dare fucking stop on my account. keep going, baby. i wanna see you.”

steve is awestruck by eddie’s reaction. never dreaming it would be so unwaveringly positive. cheeks flushed as it clicks that eddie isn’t disgusted by him and his naked body—rather he’s attracted to him and wants to see more.

“you’re sure?” steve can’t help but ask, even as he starts to slowly buck his hips again.

“you’re asking me if i’m sure? baby, your body is so fucking hot. even hotter than i imagined it would be,” eddie laughs incredulously and kisses steve deeply, “plus I’d love to be right here while you make yourself cum. talk about a dream come true.”

“yeah?” steve whines, feeling confident as eddie kisses along his neck and nibbles on his ear. he’s so far gone for this man it’s ridiculous.

“yeah, honey. if you hadn’t noticed, i’m kind of obsessed with you. now tell me what you want me to do? you want me to keep talking?” eddie cups steve’s face and pets a hand across his cheek.

steve nods enthusiastically, “y-yeah. it’s hot, really hot. more please, like hearing your voice.”

eddie willingly obliges. palming his straining hard-on over his jeans as he runs his mouth and edges them both closer to orgasm.

“feels good doesn’t it, baby? you’re so wet and your cock’s so fucking hard. looks just about ready to burst with how good you’re teasing it on that pillow. taking your time, hm? letting all that pleasure build up like a good boy,” he coos in a sickeningly sweet, condescending tone. voice shakier as he fucks into his palm and watches steve intently.

and steve? he can’t even begin to find his words. a mess of mewls and whimpers and moans, as he works the length of his aching cock between a few fingers and ruts his pussy in punishing circles against the soaked fabric of the pillowcase. and now that he has eddie as an audience, he’s arching his back, pushing the plump curve of his ass out, and using his free hand to pinch his raw nipples. knot tightening in his lower belly, warmth spreading through his abdomen.

“fuck,” eddie groans, thrusting his hips and biting his lip, “that’s right, baby boy. don’t hold back—making such pretty noises for me. such a good little slut. my perfect boy.”

steve knows he’s going to cum. he knows it’s going to be messy. he knows eddie’s going to see him as he squirts over the pillow. and the very idea makes him lock eyes with eddie and moan incoherently. begging with his gaze.

“what is it, baby?” eddie’s patronizing smile makes steve keen, “aw you wanna cum don’t you? is that why you’re shaking so much? wanna cum for me and make a mess on your pillow?”

steve nods as hard and fast as he can, words still escaping him. unsure why he feels he needs eddie’s permission to cum, but also knowing it’s absolutely necessary.

“shhh, shhh,” eddie hushes, rubbing his cock at a punishing pace, “use your words baby. use those pretty big boy words of yours and ask nicely. then i’ll give you everything you need, okay?”

“p-please, daddy,” oh fuck where did that come from, “please, please, let me cum, daddy. wanna be your good boy, please.”

“ahh. fuck, fuck baby. say it again and i’ll let you. c’mon one more time, precious boy,” eddie pleads, face contorting with pleasure.

“daddy. need to cum for you, daddy. please,” steve begs so pretty and bounces on the pillow mercilessly, stimulation peaking.

“fuck yes, baby. cum with daddy. cum for me,” eddie groans and spills into his jeans with steve’s name heavy on his filthy lips.

and steve does the same—positively drenches his pillow as he squirts all over it. slapping his pussy like he’s never done before just because everything feels too good and the oversensitivity is enough to destroy him.

suffice it to say, after that night, steve’s quite physically comfortable around eddie and vice versa. and it’s the start of a beautiful relationship <3

and as always, if you’d like to be added to my tags list for my smutty steddie ficlets/asks pls let me know in the comments !! xoxo

[fulgurbugs]

Oh hey I hope you don’t mind me asking, this is purely out of curiosity but if you had to picture other duopath runs which characters would you pick and why? :)

Therion & Tressa are such a good combo I’m curious about which other traveler combinations would work well

hm thinking about which ones would be fun…. i think i can think of some that’d be fun

ship ones obvi would be funny, so alfyn/therion Primrose/Haanit, Olberic/Cyrus etc, also i think all of those combos are pretty good and can cover each other, i think Alfyn/Therion probably has the easiest time of it (due to access to steal for equipment and then concoct is just really good) and olberic/cyrus probably has the hardest time of it? i think thats purely because cyrus is frail and might take some investment to make sure he’s not dying every 2 seconds. then again, olberic as a duo is pretty good since he always has incite access. basically cyrus needs saving grace asap i think

Prim/haanit i think mayyybe more middle of the road? you do always get sealticge but its more of a whole thing with just two party members instead of 4, but haanit can hit the big damage and having dancer prim she’s probably easier to minmax damage potential on since you can lion dance her etc… if you run one of them as thief you can probably do some kind of armor corrosive lion dance setup and let haanit just hit the double digit thousands

i think one of the things that would be difficult about both haanit/prim and olberic/cyrus is definitely the lack of path action to acquire npc items, you get literally soooooo much shit out of it it’s super helpful lol.

other ones i think would be fun

Alfyn/Ophilia: healerpath run. while you won’t have to rely on item healing (like i did for the majority of duopath), i think this one would be a fun like, find your damage method one. plus, these two are the ones who usually sit back as supports (at least in their base class roles), but push when push comes to shove- sorry you guys gotta do all the hard work of killing these guys on top of the healing. also the stretch between their ch3s and ch4s would be miserable for them sorry you two

Therion/Primrose: the two traumatized ones with loner streaks, that’s right we’re putting bff bracelets on you and forcing you to work together. i think these two have a kind of kinship friendship that they don’t quite share with any of the others, so they get along quite well, even though i think i’d find it hard to stick them together permanently without the glue of the rest of the party. but as a duopath, i think they could still be pretty fun, and i want primrose to have some help stabbing those guys. gameplay wise, having therion would be a huge benefit for path action reasons, plus thief is like. imo one of the best subclasses paired with anything so i think any duopath he’s in gets some added benefit.

Olberic/Tressa: i always liked their dynamic, as the oldest member and the youngest member they might have an almost parental kind of relationship, and something abt tressa’s plucky enthusiasm and Olberics more stoic, seasoned nature is always fun to me. Tressa is another items-getter path action (though slightly less good than steal, you’ll likely rack up enough money grinding that prices are trivial) which is a help, and merchant is extremely good in duopath due to hired help being one of the best damage options for any character who might not be able to set up huge numbers. olberic however, can set up huge numbers, which means that i think this duo would be super duper set in the damage department.

ophilia/cyrus: i think this is the one i’d do if i really wanted pain, because these two have no hp and will die. this is like, the challenge mode option, because one of the things about duopath is you’re going to be taking a lot of damage on your two characters where you would have that spread across your party. so this duo would require some interesting strategizing to raise those hp stats, figure out how to tank, and then, on top of that, how to dish out the big numbers. while magic is *good* ive always found that when you’re trying to hit big on breaks, you’re better off going for brand or aeber big hits. as well, you get no items path action to work with for them. as for the dynamic, they’re both friendly and agreeable so i think there’d be not much conflict between them, but i think you could have some fun especially by the end if they start to draw the galdera connections between them…

[kristiliqua]

im just thinking about wil’s stream today and how much it revealed abt q!wilbur’s character based off of his actions and behavior . help .

(TLDR at the end)

likeee . bro was so quick to draw conclusions , assume , and then put blame on others , despite have little to no information on literally anything abt the eggs’ disappearance . he was quick to blame everyone who was active on the server , saying that the eggs are still missing bc they “havent tried hard enough” and are just “doing nothing” , in terms of searching for them — all of which is untrue , but he says it as if its a fact anyway . even finding q!cellbit sus and not trusting him , despite knowing (again) little to nothing abt the guy , about his character and who he’s like as a person (that he cares a fuck ton abt the eggs and has been trying so hard to find any clues as to where they are) , the fact that he’s been gathering all the info he could ever since they disappeared (and before that , with other shit) . but he blames and finds him suspicious anyway .

he blames everyone else , when everything is and has been out of their control . they dont know much and Cant know much bc they know jack shit abt what could Actually be happening with the eggs . they only have theories and ideas

realistically , the thing q!wilbur should blame is ,, whoever or Whatever took the eggs away . but since he doesnt know wtf thatd be , its not as easy or assuring as it were to be if he blamed it on an actual Person or people he knows , instead of smth he doesnt know at all . its easier for his grief , to blame someone for the cause of it , to be angry and upset at someone . a physical person he can blame . and this irrational/illogical behavior is probably caused by the , yk . reasonably upset reaction that came with the bad news of his daughter being gone

plus the way he went to just ,, do it all by himself , despite the Very limited intel he had , saying that theyll never find the eggs if they just “follow the rules” (in his words) and all “do the same thing” . so he does it his own way , searching for any clues on anything , despite knowing practically nothing abt anything thats happened these past few months . even tho he knows that , logically , everyone else on the island probably has a bunch of info already , info that they could give him to help in his search (bc they all have the same goal in mind) . but instead he’s stubborn and doesnt want anybody else’s help , thinking theyre too incompetent and dont care enough abt the eggs — so he does it by himself , all up until someone reaches out to help him , rather than him asking for help himself (that someone being q!phil) . and in his attempts he ofc fails miserably , bc he Doesnt Know Anything . he has limited access to everything that could potentially be helpful (doesnt know where or what the order is and barely has any waypoints , only checking his and tallulah’s and the outside of phil’s house) , and so he’s basically working with fucking scraps . like itd literally be Impossible for him to find the eggs all by himself , he Needs the help from the others in order to make even a little bit of actual progress (so everyone thank q!phil for pulling up even after their little argument)

and logically (bc he isnt Stupid) , he probably Knows that . he knows that the others very likely care abt the eggs as much as he does (bc why would they all be gathering up for this mission thats For the eggs if they didnt .?) and have far more info than he could ever get by himself , bc he’s been gone for months and hasnt been caught up on anything of actual importance . but he was so upset and quick to blame everyone else (the mfs who could actually Help him and Know Shit) that he shut them off , going off by himself . esp after q!phil lashed out at him

anddd maybe there was a little spite or pettiness in there too , him wanting to prove that he can do it better than them , that he can get more than theyve ever gotten since they “didnt try hard enough” n all , and him finding shit out in a single day would be a huge testament to that idea . but ofc that didnt happen lmfao — he was practically playing a big guessing game with the info he had (or the lack thereof)

TLDR — i just find it interesting that q!wilbur was so quick to jump to conclusions and to push blame onto anyone and everyone he could , even tho he barely knows anyone on the island anymore . the way he went to take matters into his own hands , bc if theyre not gonna do anything abt it , then he will (,,, Not . bro was So lost)

just . what an interesting fella . what fun characterization . what a silly guy who is mourning the loss of his daughter (he is in denial)

[frostgears]

art project

"Oh, that? Art project I've been messing with."

The glass vat takes up most of her kitchen table, filled with uniform muddy brown fluid that reeks of organic solvents, something like nail polish.

"Um… what kind of art?"

"It's kind of a work in progress, okay?"

She says it's easier if she shows you. The vat is wrapped with a half-dozen turns of copper wire; she screws the bare ends into terminal blocks on a messy proto board, plugs cables from that into an antique PC, types a command on a grubby keyboard.

The muddy brown fluid vibrates. Waves cross its surface, forming interference peaks and troughs. Simple patterns grow more and more complex, and then the stuff climbs out of the vat entirely.

Cubes and pentaprisms and planar hexagons hang in the air above churning liquid. You move your head and some of it, seen edge on, disappears. You move back; there it is again. The chemical miasma of nail polish intensifies, and something else.

"That's… how? I've never seen anything like it. Some kind of ferrofluid?" you ask.

"Uh, sure, something like that."

She kills the program. Her hand creeps onto yours, squeezing it gently but firmly. She says, "Shall we go upstairs?"

—

It's been three weeks. The sex has been incredible, the two of you practically joined at the genitals whenever you're together.

You tell her, incredibly full, that if she ever manages to get more of that strap inside you, you'll probably pass out. The next day, she shows up hefting a bigger one, and proves you right.

You're spending more and more time at her place. It's fine. It's really fine. You have roommates, she doesn't. But you'd like to use her kitchen, surprise her with something that isn't cheap takeout, and you can't, because that vat is in the way.

You ask her if she can move it? She can't. She shrugs. "I don't really cook much, so…"

"I do."

"Yeah… I need the table, though."

You're miffed, but she makes it up to you, by going slow enough that night that you don't immediately pass out. That leaves plenty of time for screaming.

You sleep over. You wake up in the middle of the night to piss, and find her gone. From the bathroom, you see the flicker of LEDs in the kitchen down the hall, smell acetone and… something else. Dusty rooms in empty houses?

You leave her alone. You're too tired; you don't want to fuck this up; you don't know what you'd say anyway. You go back to sleep.

—

It's been two months. You can't get enough of each other. You've gotten used to takeout, and her pelvis-endangering sexual appetites haven't let up; if anyone you knew saw you bent into the positions she likes to dick you down you in, they'd be shocked at your flexibility.

Most of your stuff is at her place now. (Just not the kitchen utensils.) It's easier that way. Less back and forth, and you're here basically every night anyway, have been for weeks. You want to ask her about moving in.

She can be… grumpy, sometimes. You can put up with it, moving around her moods like water. God knows you've had enough practice in your life. She's in a mood tonight, but you have to ask soon, because your lease is up in a month.

You've stacked the deck as much as you can. Her favorite noodle place for dinner; her favorite perfume dabbed behind your ears; a tight, low-cut minidress for easy access; your lips painted a smeary black, so she can see where they've been later.

"I'm gonna go out for a bit," she tells you, before you can make your play.

You were ready for a lot of things, but not this. Improvise. You put on your best disappointed pout, tug your bodice down a little more.

"Wait, weren't we going to…"

"Later, okay? A friend just texted me that he's got something I need for," she waves to the kitchen.

"Can't he just drop it off?" you beg.

"Nah. Fragile. I'll be back," she says. The door clicks solidly behind her.

Well, shit. There goes your plan for the night. And your… you hadn't worked up to "girlfriends" yet, which is a mistake on your part, you know. But she's out the door.

You give it a few minutes. You can wait patiently.

—

You've talked yourself into giving it a few hours when you really start to fume.

What the fuck is that godawful vat that's so important to her? How is it somehow a higher priority than you? Fuck it, fuck her, she needs to get this the right way around. She's going to come back to a scene she won't forget in a hurry.

You stomp into the kitchen and face down the vat. The smell is. Wow. Okay. That's a lot. But if it was really deadly toxic, she wouldn't leave it out like this, right?

You're going to drink it, throw it back up, splash some around, tell her she needs to choose because she apparently can't have both.

You're going to drink it, throw it back up, you tell yourself, as you dip a mug in and hold your nose.

Your throat spasms the minute the stuff is in your mouth, forcing it down. It's inside you in seconds, the whole mug.

You're not going to throw it up. You… need more. You scoop more out, lift it to your lips. Swallow. Again. Again.

—

She does come home to a scene.

"Oh fuck no, you didn't drink it, did you. You did."

"I," you tell her. You burp up a bit. "Absolutely. Did. You can't have." It spills down your chin and drips on your dress. "Both. Okay?"

"Yeah, no, here's the thing, I was going to break up with you. Gods. What a mess." She drops a paper bag down on the little kitchen counter, sits next to you, puts her head in her hands. "I was almost finished with it."

"So was I," you drool. You're so full. You can't get the stuff back out of you, though. You tried. You tried so hard. The vat is empty and it's all in you. Your eyes flutter closed and open and half-closed again.

"Oh, no, not by a long shot, you're not. I'm not wasting another year."

You hear the crinkle of paper. She's opening the bag. She forces a small hard thing into your mouth. It cracks and electricity crawls down all your limbs at once.

"Guess I'm stuck with you," she says, as you sink back to the floor.

You feel cold metal on your skin. She's taken the coils off the vat, she's wrapping them around you. You hear the clatter of the keyboard.

And then your skin starts to roil. The muddy brown fluid is in you, it's oozing out of everywhere, it is you, you're light and heavy at once, and you flow, and you're moving in ways that flesh and bone aren't supposed to move, and it seems like it should hurt,

And then you hear the familiar velcro noise as she tightens the harness of her strap. You don't remember her cock being this big. What the fuck. There's no way she expects you to take that… is there?

She stands over you, shoves it into you. And your new flesh flows to take her. As best you can, anyway. Her thrusts pushes the last dissolving, infiltrated bits of you out of you, the last pain, and now you're just you, and you pass out.

And then you wake up. And she's got a cock smeared with you, and a… smile? on her face. Like you're not what she wanted, but maybe, just maybe, she can work with this. So she starts again.

Later, you realize: You're moved in. So that's good, right? You want to find her and tell her, but you can't get outside the copper circle, and you can't quite form words yet, after what she's done to your throat. Okay. You can wait. You live here now anyway. □

[unchartedthelostlegacy]

Water in my ear

The first mistake was dismissing the early signs of the infection. The second was getting onto the plane home with a burning hot ear. Nadine could have burst her eardrum. She should have known better.

It was just so stupid that after all the danger and risks they took, some water in her ear was what ended up getting her.

Nadine swallowed, and it hurt. The pain radiated through the entire side of her head. She had to keep taking the antibiotics as the doctor prescribed, which meant she had to eat, no matter how little of an appetite she had. Nadine swallowed another painful bite of apple.

She was in a hammock hooked between two walls of an armory. Probably not ideal for someone having intermittent dizzy spells. At her flat in Johannesburg, she'd just be set upon by relatives. She was lying low in an old Shoreline hideout near Cape Town instead. And why was it comforting to her, being alone and surrounded by weapons with a book?

The compound was half-subterranean, hidden by nondescript office buildings on all but one side, and the alarms and locks didn't depend on the frequently load-shedding mains electricity. The entrance was a narrow passageway behind a warehouse. The only Shoreline personnel with knowledge of or access to the location were either reading Tom Clancy inside it or dead.

Sorry, former Shoreline personnel.

I could bury the guns, Nadine thought.

The Kalashnikovs filling the room like sharp stalactites would most likely fall into the wrong hands if she was to unload them on the market. Pun unintended.

I could put soft lighting in and add marble countertops and built-in storage. Charge people to spend vacations in a unique doomsday-prepper-themed AirBnB.

Nadine's ear throbbed. She wriggled deeper into the blanket. The building's end-to-end silence was its own security feature. The scratching of a mouse's feet would be audible.

Unless it was on the side of the wrong ear.

Nadine's phone buzzed. It was Chloe again. She would never have imagined feeling more able to talk to Nathan Drake's old flame than her own family.

Chloe was telling her about wanting to be involved in her local Hindu community more now. She was reading more about it. "In a personal way, you know? I never felt this close to it when Dad was telling me about it."

"What book are you reading right now?" Nadine said.

"The Mahabharata."

Chloe said it so casually.

"The...the whole thing, Frazer?"

"What, like it's hard?"

Nadine fought back a scoff. It would only make her pain worse. "Whatever. I thought you'd recommend an entry-level book to modern Hindu practice or something."

"I guess I want to make sure I'm...I don't know."

Chloe was sighing. God, that had to be bad. Chloe had to be spilling her guts right now if she was letting herself sigh. And there was that nervous laughter of hers.

She wanted to make sure she was doing it correctly. Because Chloe was trying to find one side of her roots and she was guilty for not seeking it sooner. And she was having doubts she even could, because while not everyone had Asav-level epithets to shout, being multiracial was complicated.

And it wasn't like Nadine could tell her something that would make it easier.

"I'm not taking up too much of your time, love?"

"No," Nadine said. "It's good to have a distraction, anyway."

"From what?"

"Ear infection." Nadine had to laugh saying it. "Remember when I got water in my ear?"

There was a slam on the line.

"WHY didn't you TELL me?!"

Nadine winced and pulled the phone away. "Shit! Ow!"

"You let me go on and on about--" Chloe was furious.

"Shut up, Chloe! I--I like hearing about how you feel!"

"--bloody hell! Where are you?"

Nadine muttered, "Nowhere close, if that's what you're asking."

"Did you--Nadine, did you already have it on the flight?!"

"Ja."

"BUGGER! You shouldn't have got on the--"

"Ja," Nadine was speaking through her teeth now. "Stop yelling or I'll hang up."

"Some military professional," Chloe said.

Nadine couldn't even grumble. It hurt. "Because in the military you get excused from air offensives because of water in your ear." Besides helicopters did not share the ear-exploding air pressure differences of commercial airliners. Nadine could never justify the cost of a fighter jet.

"I thought you were about avoiding risks."

It was choppy, like Chloe was pacing about her house gesticulating wildly at the phone.

"Chloe, please stop talking about it," Nadine said. "It's an ear infection. I'm not going to die."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Why was Chloe's voice so broken when she said that. Why did it make Nadine's heart hurt.

"What would you have done?"

"I don't know? Encouraged you to change your flight? Paid for another few nights at the hotel so you could wait till you got better? Gone home with you if your stubborn ass insisted on not wasting money on the nonrefundable--"

"You don't need to babysit me," Nadine snapped.

Chloe fired back, "You sure babysat me, mate, when I had my little coma after getting my bell rung back there."

Nadine swallowed again, and it hurt, again, even without a piece of apple.

She said, softly, "And have you gone to get checked for multiple concussions like I asked you to?"

"What would they do for this old brain in this rubber skull, Nadine?"

Nadine would have laughed, if wouldn't hurt so bad.

"Tell you not to drive until you recover. Don't start. Shut up, Chloe. Tell you to get plenty of rest and come back for follow-up so they can keep an eye on the serious complications that can come from a traumatic brain injury. Oh, just a few things."

"I'll make an appointment," Chloe said. "Just...please tell me where you are. Nadine, I need--"

"You don't."

"Let me--it's not like it's contagious--I could make things a bit easier at least--"

Nadine said, "Talking to you like this already does."

"My ass it does," Chloe wasn't going down without a fight. "You probably have a fever and aren't drinking enough water and I could help you around if you're dizzy and--"

"Ugh!" Nadine bit the edge of her palm. She hated how badly she wanted it. "Shit, Frazer, I'll text you the location. Good luck finding it. You can see a doctor while you're here so I'll know you aren't lying about getting your head checked."

Nadine couldn't believe she was doing this.

"I would never," Chloe said sweetly. "See you soon, love."

[luckyroll3]

Crimson Lights: Chapter 9

After our reconciliation, Chris and I waste no time reconnecting physically by taking a shower together. The warm water cascades over us, washing away remnants of the tension that had existed between us over the past week.

Chris reaches for the soap, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel a rush as he lathers my skin, his touch so familiar. His hands slide up my sides, across my stomach and rib cage, and around my breasts. His hands glide over my shoulders onto my back and down towards my ass. He squats as he moves his soapy hands down my legs, then back up to my vagina. He washes it with gentle strokes. It feels so good to be touched by him again. It’s been far too long since we’ve been this close.

As Chris starts to lather himself, I turn towards the shower head to rinse myself off. A moment later, I feel Chris’ hands slide around my lower stomach. I lean back into him, closing my eyes. “I want you to feel how much I’ve missed you,” he says in a deep voice as he presses his hard on into my ass. I feel his soft kisses along my neck. One hand moves upwards to cup one of my breasts, his index finger tracing patterns over the nipple. The other slides down to my clit, rubbing it gently for a few moments before continuing down searching for my slit. He sinks his fingers into me and his breath hitches when he feels how wet I am.

“You’re so ready for me,” he whispers as he curls his fingers and strokes my inner wall. My body shivers at the sensation and I arch my back, bringing my ass closer to him.

I groan softly and reach behind me, wrapping my hand around his dick and sliding up and down around his length.

He presses me against the glass wall of the shower and uses his knee to spread my legs further apart. He removes his fingers from inside me and uses that hand to press down on the small of my back causing me to lift my ass even more, which provides him easier access to my pussy. He starts to slide his dick inside me, slowly yet firmly, filling me up completely. It feels so good to have him back inside me after our time apart. It feels like coming home. His hips start to move in gentle circles within me.

I move his other hand from my breast down to my clit, urging him to stimulate it as well. I reach behind me with my free hand to grab the back of his head and pull it towards me for a kiss. I gasp as he increases his pace, his movements becoming rougher and more deliberate. Chris’ breathing quickens, and I can tell he’s on the brink of a climax. Chris groans loudly as his hips slam against my ass one more time to his release.

“Shit! I’m so sorry; I just couldn’t hold it,” he says, slightly embarrassed. “I was too excited.” He thrusts slowly into me a couple more times, before asking, “You didn’t cum, did you?”

“I’m so close,” I whisper.

“Let’s fix that,” he responds before shoving his tongue into my mouth.

He pulls out and turns me around before dropping to his knees. He places my left leg over his shoulder and begins sucking on my clit. At the same time, he slips his fingers back inside me, curling them in a steady rhythm.

I press my hand into the glass wall behind me to steady myself as waves of pleasure start to wash over me and I start to moan. Chris' fingers find a perfect rhythm, pulsing in time with his lips that expertly tug and pull on my sensitive clit.

My breaths become shallower as I near the edge. I can feel the contractions starting to build within me. Chris senses it too, his sucking becoming more fervent. I can hear him murmuring, “Mmh hmm. Mmh hmm,” as he urges me to cum. I succumb to the sensation, my moans turning into a soft scream as I climax.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my swollen clit. Chris’ hand slows its movements and he withdraws his fingers from inside me, bringing them to his mouth to savor my taste. His eyes lock with mine as he sucks my juices off his fingers. “Mmmmm, I’ve missed that,” he moans before leaning in to taste more of me. His tongue slides around my opening, then up to my clit and back down again. I shudder when the tip of his tongue passes over that sensitive spot.

With a smile on his face, he stands up and leans in to kiss me. Our tongues dance together, twirling and exploring each other’s mouths. I enjoy the taste of myself on his lips almost as much as he enjoyed tasting me. As our mouths separate, he looks into my eyes, searching for something, then kisses me softly on the cheek. I turn off the shower. Warm water droplets cling to our skin as he opens the glass door, reaching for my towel to gently pat me dry. He then turns to dry himself off, his muscles flexing with each movement. Taking my hand in his, he leads me to my bed. We both crawl under the covers and spoon, feeling the warmth of each other's naked bodies and drifting off into a peaceful sleep together.

—

I awaken to gentle kisses along my neck. “Hmmm,” I moan, lifting my chin up to expose more surface area to him.

“Morning.” Chris’ voice was a low murmur, his breath tickling my collar bone.

“Is it?” I ask playfully, pulling the blanket tighter around me. “Didn’t we just go to bed?” I finally open my eyes and notice that Chris is not on the bed, but rather kneeling next to it, fully dressed. “The sun’s not even up yet.” I caress the side of his face and continue, “And why are you over here and not on top of me.” I reach up to kiss him.

“Come,” he coaxes, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. “Let’s go for a run.” He nods towards the bedside table where he’s placed clothes for me.

I furrow my brows. “A run? Have you met me?” I sit up, swiveling my legs off the bed and placing my feet on the ground. He knows I don’t run. “And at five o’clock in the morning?” I lean back on my elbows and open my legs, trying to be seductive. “Can’t we do something….else?”

Chris chuckles and repositions himself in between my legs. “Okay fine.” He kisses my thigh, then intentionally skips my pussy to kiss my belly button, followed by the skin in between my breasts. “We’ll walk,” he whispers before giving me a quick peck on my lips and standing up. “Get dressed. I want to show you something.”

Reluctantly, I grab the clothes, my curiosity getting the better of me. “Fine.” I pull on the black sports bra, white long sleeved t-shirt, and purple tie-dyed yoga leggings. He’s wearing his usual, black on black on black - sweatpants, t-shirt, beanie, along with a small black backpack. I chuckle to myself at how predictable he is.

He takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. “Where are we going?” I ask as we walk to the front door, pausing to put on our shoes. We exit the apartment and head to the elevator.

“Just a few blocks away,” he says. When we’re on the elevator, he hugs me from behind, snuggling into my neck.

“Stop getting fresh.” I push him away playfully as I say over my shoulder, “You passed on the sex, remember?”

He laughs loudly. “Ok, ok.” When the elevator opens, he grabs my hand and pulls me along.

The cool early morning breeze feels invigorating as we walk in comfortable silence. A peaceful hush blankets the neighborhood. After about 20 minutes, we arrive at the beach. I take in the view of the expansive, untouched sand and the dark water crashing against it. I realize that this is the first time I’ve been here since my first week in town, which is a shame considering how close it is to our building.

Chris leads us right up to the edge, where the water meets the land, the waves rolling in with a soothing rhythm. He hands me a bottle of water from his backpack, then pulls out a small beach blanket.

I open the bottle and take a couple gulps as I watch him lay the blanket down on the sand and smooth it out. He also takes out a small bluetooth speaker and turns it on. He sits facing the water and motions for me to join him. I nestle myself in between his legs and lean my back against his chest. He wraps his arms around me.

“Beautiful,” I say as I watch the endless motion of the water. I can barely hear myself amidst the rough waves and music. I look up to Chris to see if he heard me, but the intensity of his gaze tells me that this early morning venture isn’t just about watching the sunrise. Something is brewing just below the surface of his calm exterior. I turn my gaze back to the water to watch it slowly retreat and I wait.

After a few minutes, Chris holds me tighter and I feel his body go rigid behind me. I feel his breath against my ear as he takes a deep sigh. “I had to do this somewhere I could be sure no one was listening.” His voice is barely a whisper and I have to concentrate to hear him above the other sounds surrounding us. “I just need you to listen, okay.”

The seriousness of his tone makes me a bit apprehensive. “Okay,” I reply, placing my hands on top of his and swirling my thumbs across his skin. I try to mentally prepare myself for whatever confession is coming.

He takes a deep breath before speaking again, his voice still low and barely audible. “I’ve told you a lot about my life. I’ve had a rough childhood and have come out on the other side…but not completely. I haven’t told you everything. My life has been….”

“Complicated?” I finish for him, remembering his words from last night.

“Yeah, complicated. I’m not just an entrepreneur.” He pauses. I can sense the conflict within him.

“Chris, you’re scaring me,” I admit softly, my heart beginning to pound against my ribcage.

“You should be, Kay,” he continues. “I’m scared too.” He takes another deep breath, his voice becoming even quieter to say, “I’m the leader of the Crimson Syndicate. Well, I’m the head of all the operations here in the US and next in line to take over the entire global organization.”

My breath hitches in my chest, causing a momentary lightheadedness as everything around me seems to fade into the background. I try to piece together what little I know about the infamous Crimson Syndicate, relying on information gleaned from sensationalized movies and TV shows supposedly based on the inner workings of the organization. It had been around for more than a hundred years, right up there with the Triads and the Yakuza. The name alone sends shivers down my spine, conjuring images of power, danger, fear, murder. My mind races as I recount all the hints and clues that were right in front of my face. The import/export business, the lavish lifestyle, the hushed conversations, the intimidating bodyguards, the clandestine meetings, the unexplained bruises and scars. And then there's the fucking tattoo – the distinct marking etched into Chris’ skin, the dagger a symbol of allegiance to this ruthless group. I had spotted it on some of the other boys as well. Despite it all, I can't help but recall moments of tenderness with Chris, trying to reconcile the man I thought I knew with someone who heads a criminal empire.

Once he realizes that I don’t have a response, he continues. “From the age of 14, I was chosen and guided by JYP himself to take over. He saw potential in me that no one else cared to look for. Since then, he’s been tirelessly preparing me, carefully molding and shaping me, laying the foundation for me to one day step into his shoes, take his crown.”

“JYP? Your mentor?” I manage to choke out, the name spilling from my lips, heavy with disbelief. He had mentioned Park Jin-Young casually to me before as the person responsible for his extreme success at such a young age. Binnie had always been tight-lipped about him, giving off a sense of disdain whenever the name was brought up. He clearly hated him. My mind spins with the revelation that the older man I’d only seen in pictures, who gave Chris his first job and funded his education, commands an empire built on shadows and fear.

I feel him nod behind me. The weight of his past is evident in his voice as he continues.

He shares that when he, Changbin, and Minho were just 12 and 13 years old, they had been forced to grow up quickly by taking on jobs at one of the local warehouses, given their foster status and the shitty people running their group home, who cared more about the money they got from the state than ensuring all the children were cared for properly. The grueling work offered better pay than any other job in the neighborhood for kids their age, and it was necessary in order to help support the 5 younger Stray Kids.

But life took a dangerous turn when they were recruited into one of the notorious neighborhood gangs, drawn in by promises of protection and a sense of belonging. It was a world filled with violence and fear, but Chris learned to thrive in this dark underworld, and did better than most. And somewhere along the way, he caught the attention of JYP, who found him to be smart, strategic, and adaptable. JYP took Chris under his wing, making him first his personal courier, then his personal enforcer, and eventually coaching him to become a mogul in his own image. With no children of his own and a deep disdain for his own family, JYP had no intentions of passing down control of his empire to any of them. Instead, he saw Chris, the young, intelligent and hungry street kid, as the perfect candidate to build up and groom into his successor and a powerful leader in his own right. JYP wasted no time in investing in Chris' future, getting him and the other boys into a prestigious private school and helping the 3 older ones become emancipated at the young ages of 15 and 16. This allowed them to move out of the group home and into their own apartments. But JYP didn't stop there - he funded Chris' education at an Ivy League school and immediately set him up with a high-paying job after graduation. With this newfound wealth and independence, Chris was not only able to take care of himself, but it also gave him the means to support his chosen family, including sending them all to college as well. Chris now held the power to give back to those who had stood by him through it all.

I listen intently, staying silent as he continues. Chris had risen to become JYP's most trusted right hand by the tender age of 20. His brutal initiation into the Syndicate, marked by the scars on his back, solidified his loyalty and dedication to the organization. All of his Stray Kids were also initiated into the Syndicate, and as time went on, they eventually took on leadership roles under Chris' guidance. It was clear that he trusted them above all others in this dangerous world, and they in turn followed him without question.

Now, he, Changbin, and Han were the formidable trio at the helm of the organization, running it with a calculated precision. Apparently Han was a financial genius; he held an MBA and was also a certified accountant, which helped him to manage both their clean and dirty money. Changbin also had an MBA with a specialty in operational management. He effortlessly ran the day to day operations of each of the businesses. But what truly set them apart were their reputations as enforcers. Changbin may have had a lovable teddy bear exterior, but when provoked, he could unleash a pitbull-like ferocity that struck fear into his opponents. As for Han, his ADHD tendencies and his flare for dramatics made him seem unfocused and flighty at times, but those who underestimated him soon learned that he was a force to be reckoned with in hand-to-hand combat.

Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix were assassins, feared by many and known for their ruthless efficiency. I’d never heard Minho speak more than 10 words in any of our encounters, but I could see how his piercing gaze and stoic demeanor gave him an aura of danger that made others tread carefully. Hyunjin, on the other hand, exuded a dangerous charisma that drew people in before they realized who he truly was - a beautiful devil in human form. I had seen that for myself. But it was Felix who surprised me - with his angelic, freckled face, his contagious smile that brightened a room with the light of a thousand suns, and his love for baking. Apparently behind that innocent facade was a deadly assassin. The contrast between his appearance and skills meant they never saw him coming. I couldn’t help but wonder sarcastically if he used hugs and poisoned brownies as his weapons of choice.

And the two youngest, Seungmin and IN were logistics experts. Their skills lay in the intricate systems that controlled the flow of goods within their global distribution network. I hadn’t met them yet because they were busy redesigning key locations within the Syndicate’s network to streamline efficiency, while also bringing them up-to-date with the latest tech. For the past few years, Chris had been advocating for this change and JYP finally gave him the green light after seeing the impressive three-fold increase in profits for their US networks, thanks to these new systems.

“Kay?” Chris says. I haven’t said anything for the past hour while he spoke, so focused on digesting his words and the light emerging as day breaks.

“And what about you?” I finally inquire.

“Me? It’s like I told you when we first met. I spend most of my time at a desk or in meetings - spreadsheets, budgets, contracts, negotiations. But there are times when I have to remind people why I am where I am.” His voice drops low and takes on a dangerous edge. “JYP taught me to be cunning and ruthless. I've been doing his fucking dirty work since I was 16. And he drilled into me that anything my team can do, I should be 10 times better, 10 times faster, 10 times fiercer. And I am. Every once in a while, it’s a part of my job to remind everyone that I don’t need bodyguards, enforcers, or assassins. That if anyone dares to threaten the Syndicate or my family, they threaten me directly. And I will personally handle it. I will end it. And them, if necessary.” As he speaks, my eyes flicker down to his still-bruised knuckles, evidence of the violence he's capable of. After a few moments of heavy silence, he adds in a softer tone, “I know this is all probably overwhelming and unexpected for you. And if you're uncomfortable with any of this, I'll understand.”

I turn around to face him and look into his eyes. I carefully reposition myself, sitting on his lap, my legs gently wrapping around his waist as I bring my arms up to encircle his neck. There are a million thoughts running through my brain, but I am at a loss for words, unsure of what to say.

“I didn’t know it would feel like this; this overwhelming feeling that consumes me when I’m with you,” he continues as his hand reaches up to gently cup my cheek. “That I would fall so hard for you; be so desperately in love.” He pauses for a second. “I didn't want you to know this side of me.” He rests his forehead against mine. “But how can any of this be real if you don't know all of me? I’m terrified of losing you now that you know everything.” We breathe together silently, eyes locked on each other, our lips mere inches apart. “Tell me what you're thinking,” he whispers against my lips.

I feel the silent plea from him, hoping that nothing had changed. This man – who had stolen kisses in the kitchen, who had laughed at all my corny jokes, who loved random hugs, who would spontaneously dance random choreography in the middle of his living room, who would come to my office just to cuddle with puppies, who couldn’t fall asleep unless he was nuzzled against my neck – had just confessed all the worst parts of himself and was now stripped bare and completely vulnerable. 

“Tell me I haven’t lost you,” he whispers again, this time his voice trembling.

My heart kicks against my chest, a frenzied beat trying to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions. Fear creeps along my skin, raising goosebumps despite the warming air. It all feels like a bizarre dream. Yet beneath it all, underneath the layers of shock and confusion, something else stirs—a love that had been quietly growing for him.

"Chris," I start, my voice much steadier than I actually feel. "How can we... How can I be part of this?"

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, I see the leader of the Crimson Syndicate, the weight of his empire pressing down on those broad shoulders. But then he softens, just a man filled with emotions.

"Because I love you and I trust you," he says simply. "And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you, and keep you safe." His hands slide up my back, bringing me closer to his chest. I can feel them shaking. "Kay," Chris murmurs, his voice a low thrum against the morning air. His eyes still search for an answer in mine. "Please, say something."

I swallow hard, my throat tight with unsure words. Each breath is a shudder, each heartbeat a question mark punctuating the silent space between us. Could I really step into the shadows of his world and not lose myself? Could love really be enough?

"Chris, this is... it's a lot." My voice is a whisper, betraying the turmoil inside. "You live in a place where trust is probably a liability, and danger is always present. How do I fit into that?"

His thumbs brush across my shoulder blades in slow, soothing arcs, and I wondered how such dangerous hands could also speak the language of comfort so fluently. "You fit," he says with undeniable conviction, "because you're the light in that darkness. You're the laughter in the silence of my life. Without you... Kay, without you, it's just an existence. With you, it's a life worth defending, worth living."

The waves crash in a steady rhythm, a natural metronome to the silence that stretches between us. “Chris, I…I…,” I fumble my words. “I don’t know,” I finally manage to get out, my voice now barely above a whisper.

“Every minute of every day, I will love you and protect you,” he says. “But I won’t lie to you, Kay. I don’t plan on leaving. I can’t walk away from it all - not from the people who depend on me, not from my brothers, not from the family bound to me by more than blood." His words were steel; his resolve unyielding.

A tear escapes my eye, tracing a wet path down my cheek. It is the seal breaking, allowing the reality of what he was asking—and offering—to wash over me. He wanted me to want all of him. And if couldn’t take him whole, he was willing to walk away from us due to his unwavering loyalty.

"Chris," I breathe out, the weight of his world pressing down on me, "the sacrifices..."

"Are mine to make as well," he finishes for me. His thumb brushes away the tear, his touch tender. "We'll face them together."

I nod, unable to speak, as more tears followed. I draw in a shaky breath, tasting the salty tang of the sea air. It fills my lungs, invigorating and terrifying all at once. A seagull cries overhead, its sharp call slicing through the early morning quiet. Could I? Could I step into the unknown, into his dark world—a world where violence was currency and loyalty the only law? 

I grapple with the decision, the gravity of it anchoring me to this moment, to the feel of his skin against mine, to the hope shining in his eyes. “Okay,” I exhale, the single word a surrender to the love between us that refused to be caged by fear or reason. “Okay.”

Chris' expression transforms, relief flooding his features and a smile breaking through before he closes the distance between our lips with a gentle, yet passionate kiss. 

[drdemonprince]

Hey man idk what circles you've been in that only white trans men are talking about transmisandry but literally every mention ive seen of it before you was from transmen of color and it kinda seems like you're not responding to any of the transmen of color who are bringing this up?

Like ive been kinda staying out of it cuz its definitely not something that's affected me directly and I mostly just follow you for autism content anyway

And the person I follow that used to post about it has been inactive for awhile so I haven't been seeing much about it until now

So I was mostly just confused but then I found one of the guys whose posts I used to see and scrolled through his blog a bit and saw he's been responding to your posts but his reblogs dont show up anywhere but on his blog for most of the older ones

And it just seems a little weird to claim that only white transmen bring up transmisandry and then just not respond to any of the transmen of color who say they've been talking about it for way longer....

Like you keep saying its just white trans guys but its clearly not....idk im not trying to argue or fight or anything I just feel like theres a part of the conversation not being addressed here?

I think you need to re read the post, because that's not what I said. But the guys who believe in transmisandry (and believe that misandry is a thing) have a vested interest in making you believe that's what I'm saying, because it's a lot easier for them to dispute that willful misinterpretation than to argue against my actual claim.

My actual claim, again, is that it makes no sense to combine transphobia and "misandry" to create an intersection called transmisandry, because systemic misandry doesnt exist. and that it's telling that most people know better than to even try to intersect misandry with any other oppression term.

i dont see people trying to pull that shit because i follow people with an actual systems analysis of oppression. if someone does claim that misandrynoir exists, or misandryfatmisia, they are also wrong.

i dont take my cues on any social justice movements from people who think misandry exist, and the fact im not seeing it on my dash is evidence of me curating my shit pretty well! its undeniable that transmisandry takes are more common than those other ones. but wow does it suck that some people believe in the others too!

Anyone who believes misandry is a thing is wrong, regardless of their identity groups. In general white trans men have more of a vested interest in promoting it for many reasons that have been shared on this page in the past few days -- access to weaponizing white womanhood being a large one that has been mentioned. But any type of person on this beautiful earth can be wrong, and any man who believes in misandry is.

[sourcreammachine]

REFORM PARTY "MANIFESTO" 2024 SUMMARY

they say it ain't a manifesto even though it is. they're tryna pretend they're not politicians even though they are. their reasoning is that they know they won't be the next government, so this is what they'd push for as opposition members - just like in the manifestos of the greens, SNP etc. but anyway, this "contract" of theirs is scant and they're running a vibes-based campaign. you don't need to see any actual policies, no no no. you already know if they're for you or not. oh, and if you think they're for you - just like all far right parties, they ain't: they're for capital, they're for vested interests, they're for cruelty. they're for the classic quasi-accelerationist burnout cycle that'll weaken the base of society and the economy and ruin fucking everything. but hey, at least there won't be no immigrants. i'm so sorry if you see them as the future: they're taking you for a ride just as you've been used time and time again, because there is no clearly accessible political solution to improving your material conditions as current politics stand, i'm sorry - that is, within the paradigm you know - there're answers just outside the tunnel-vision you've been forced into. why not take a look sometime. who knows, you might find some hope.

i'm not shitting you, though. the manifesto is not long. go read it. see for yourself the draconian horror they advocate, and will push for these five years, and will endorse with the hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of Short Money coming their way after they get into parliament. this isn't a 2015 UKIP moment, a single-issue agenda that'll flame out. even if they fail in their 2029 campaign with no votes against the tories to count on, these ideas and their influence are here to stay for the medium-term now. even if we remove the rosethorn it'll keep bleeding and bleeding and bleeding

yeah, on account of the scantness, these policies are vague. they're much more like ideas rather than proposals. the general nonsense of them has been fact-checked time and time again so i won't bother. here's just a summary of their rambling ephemeral suggestions

💷ECONOMY

revoke benefits after four months, MANDATORY acceptance of the second job offer on pain of benefit revocation, make all eligibility capability assessments in-person, mandating medical assessments, to catastrophically reduce disability benefit entitlements

raise the personal allowance to §20k/a, cutting individual taxation by §1600/a. raise it to §25k for the married

raise the second band of income tax from about §50k to §70k cutting an ABHORRENT amount of tax from the upper-middle class, far far far far far more than the tax cuts on §20k-earners

leave the World Economic Forum, plummet corporation tax from its already international tax-haven low levels, abolish any business tax for "high-street based" small businesses to create a new class of fat cat burghers, VAT refund for businesses making under §150k/a profit no matter what it is they're flogging

revoke european trade agreements and collapse trade with the mainland

massive tax breaks for defence contractors

'frontload' the child benefit system, plunging it after the child turns four

pour money into giving tourists a full refund on VAT

surge the inheritance tax threshold to §2m BUT "allow the money to be donated to charity instead" (ie allowing massive loophole scams)

massive deregulation, including on the regulation of business and employment laws as "we must make it easier to hire and fire". the manifesto also whines about "6700 eu laws" that still stand, but whines and moves on, implying a mass unbounded deregulation of industry

🏥PUBLIC SERVICES

abolish the NHS and replace it with a private voucher system

catastrophic austerity: every government department to be removed of a 5% of its funding that it must account for itself, reducing spending across the board without central planning or oversight

catastrophic statecapture: abolish civil service leadership and replace them with politicised government appointees "from the private sector"

catastrophic hike on university entry requirements and mandate many be cut to two years

catastrophic privatisation of the remaining public healthcare with surge in outsourcing and contracting, 20% total tax relief for private healthcare

statecapture the BBC with full nationalisation

comprehensive curriculum audit to impose "patriotic education": mandate "any teaching about a period or example of british or european imperialism or slavery must be paired with the teaching of a non-european occurrence of the same to ensure balance", teach children about "their heritage"

public inquiry on "the harm of vaccines"

leave the WHO

end the exemption private schools from the 20% VAT. wait, wait no hang on i've got that wrong. oh right yeah, that's labour's policy, sorry. reform says to impose a 20% TAX RELIEF ON PRIVATE SCHOOLS. sorry peasants, your tax money is funding Eton now

🏠HOUSING

catastrophic tax breaks for small landlords

revoke the renters reform bill

abolish stamp duty (the tax on the buying of homes) under §750k and plummet it above that mark, allowing obscene wealth transfers, massive property buyup, catastrophic housing supply saturation, and the annihilation of first-time buying

🚄TRANSPORT ?

ban and abolish low emission zones

ban and abolish low traffic neighbourhoods

ban and abolish all 20mph zones except outside schools

lower petrol tax

👮FORCE

abolish the human rights act

abolish the equality act

leave the european convention on human rights

freeze "non-essential immigration", and they do not elaborate what they mean or what the policy definition is to be. so they're just gonna be rambling about ephemera to kingdom come. that's the game they're playing

10% HEAD TAX ON IMMIGRANTS via additional national insurance charge

REVOCATION OF CITIZENSHIP FROM IMMIGRANT UK CITIZENS COMMITTED OF CRIMES, without specifying whether or not this applies only to dual-citizens, meaning reform supports the mass imposition of STATELESS status, A GRAVE AND ABHORRENT CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY

invade france. i'm being serious. they'd intercept and arrest small-boat crossers and 'take them back to france', violating french territorial sovereignty on both land and sea via the use of force, gravely violating international law against our neighbour

FORTY THOUSAND new police in five years, around 25% more, massively prioritise pipelining ex-military officers and enlistees into the police, abolish PCSOs and make them regular broken-windows police

labour camps for young offenders

create a US-style coast guard and begin routine patrols for migrants or foreign fishers

surge armed forces funding by the highest amount proposed by any party

"stop Sharia law being used in the UK", ie draconian monitoring of mosques, muslim community organisations, the palestine movement, and any muslim

absolute prohibition on asylum applications from "safe countries", sentencing desperate seekers to political persecution and death by mere categorical definition

increase stop-and-search powers, mandates and centrality in policing tactics, pursue broken windows policing,

MANDATORY MINIMUM OF LIFE for second violent/serious offences or ANY drug dealing, new offence for 'substantial possession of drugs'

catastrophically demolish the legalised definition of hatecrime to de facto prevent its use for any prosecution

mass prison building, convert disused military bases into prison camps

bad internet bill: massive inquiry into 'child social media use' (under their watch requiring catastrophic restrictions), renew the online safety bill as "social media giants that push baseless transgender ideology and divisive critical race theory should have no role in regulating free speech"

abolish the northern ireland framework, seemingly unilaterally, paving the way for a hard border and blowing the starting whistle on The Troubles 2

speaking of which: exempt the armed forces from human rights law

catastrophically plummet the number of student visas and prohibit international students with dependents

end funding for european defence programmes. sorry estonia looks like you're lost. oh also "the west provoked putin" so there's that

require the licensing of foreign trawlers in the eez, beginning a cold war with iceland

halve international development / foreign aid funding from its already tiny budget, with specific mention of "global quangos" (literally how many centuries has it been and antisemitism is STILL invoked by these pillocks)

🌱ECOCIDE

repeal every penny of green investment

abolish all emissions targets including for all public services

abolish all renewable energy subsidies

mandate the use of fertile land for farming, ban natural england from protecting 'farmland' land, end and ban all rewinding programmes

abolish environmental levies

catastrophic surge on oil/gas licensing and open new lithium and coal mines, and support biomass/biofuel

🗳️DEMOCRACY ?

begin trumpist restriction on the ability to vote

abolish all postal voting apart from the elderly and disabled

keep voter ID

"legislate to stop left-wing bias and politically correct ideology"

proportional commons and elected senate

🏳️‍⚧️REACTIONARY AGENDA not otherwise covered

for all transgender schoolchildren who have not been permitted a gender recognition certificate: prohibit the use of correct pronouns by any teacher, prohibit the recognition of social transitioning by any teacher, and require mandatory outing to their parents

ban all unisex toilets

"cut funding to universities that undermine free speech", with no clarification, meaning they get to bully anyone they chose

abolish the public health observatory on racial health disparities

look, yeah. the manifesto is short, their purview is open. the door is not shut. everything is on the table. their one, two, three or more MPs are going to be using your tax money to advocate anything and anything that harms migrants, queer and trans people. nonwhite citizens and any annoying political movement can and will be fair game for total attack and political annihilation. wherever the transphobic tornado goes next they will join in. it is going to be a dangerous time for us. they are going to push for absolutely anything they can to harm trans people. your country. your money. your responsibility to fight them. that is what democracy is