#like obviously SOMETIMES things are stressful and sometimes shitty things happen

[starbuck]

this morning was one of the most stressful of my life and then work restored my faith in humanity and the goodness of life thank god thank god thank god for other people

[fourmoony]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝟐

f!reader x PT!Jamie (modern au) 1.5k words

summary: reader has a bad gym experience and jamie gets protective

cw: working out, mention of potential injury, mentions of sexual harrassment (ass grabbing)

sidenote, that I've seen a lot of this behaviour in the gym before and it makes me sick. writing about it and imagining how jamie would handle it makes me less sick. imagining big strong pt!james making the world better, one set of keys at a time. please, always be aware of your surroundings if you are working out at the gym, especially alone <3

James pulls you out from under the bar of the smith machine by the hips seconds before it clatters to the ground with a sickening thud and clang of metal. You stumble under his harsh hands, land on the ground at his feet and let out a pained whoosh of breath. Luckily, the gym is empty save for the two of you, sparing you the embarrassment of having people watch the commotion.

He's on you in an instant, gentle hands that cradle your neck as he crouches in front of you and pushes your head from side to side with a little pressure from his thumbs. All you can do is blink, try to process what, exactly, just happened. "You're not sore here?" James asks you, brows furrowed and almost touching in the middle, his fingers pressing into the base of your neck.

Your first thought is that James doesn't suit frowning. A silly thought, considering you almost decapitated yourself with a one hundred kilogram squat rack. "No. Just my ass from crash landing." You don't fail to notice the way your voice sounds distant, detached.

James' hands are warm on your neck, a burning touch that you want to lean into. You don't, and it's gone as James collapses down across from you, his elbows resting against his knees. His face turns stern, "What's going on?"

You feel like you're being scolded, and maybe you should be. It's a well known fact that form is everything, that being distracted in the gym can lead to serious injuries. You'd known you wouldn't be able to focus today, you'd known you should've stopped that set and corrected yourself when you could feel the weight more in your back than your legs. But, you hadn't. You're distracted, you're angry. You'd walked into the gym full of frustration and it'd almost ended terribly.

Tears fight their way to your eyes and they burn. You feel a lump forming in your throat that forces you to look away from James. Kind, patient James, who allows you the moment to collect yourself as you pull your legs to your chest. "Shitty week." It comes out mumbled, your voice defeated.

James nods understandingly. "A shitty week doesn't make you lose focus like that, though. There's something more to it."

It's not like James to push. He's friendly and he's kind, he can be a menace when he wants to be, and sometimes you even think he's flirting with you - but he never pushes. You want to open up, you want to step out of that weird area of professionalism you can never seem to get past with him. But unloading your shitty week on him doesn't feel like the way to do that. So you shrug, pulling your knees to your chest until your chin rests atop them, "I'm just stressed. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I knew my form was wrong but I was too distracted to stop and fix it."

"I don't care that your form was wrong," James shakes his head as though offended you'd think such a thing, "I mean," He pauses, searching for the words, "Obviously, I care that it was wrong because you almost got hurt. But what I mean is that you should've told me you were stressed, that you were feeling a bit distracted."

You find yourself nodding, eyes downcast at your crossed ankles.

"I was waiting for you to correct the form yourself. If I knew you were distracted, I'd have told you to stop. I'm sorry, too." James' voice has turned soft, less stern. He nudges his foot until it's in your line of vision, tapping it against yours until you're looking up.

He's waiting with a smile, his eyes gentle and patient. It feels odd. New, foreign. You can't really describe the feeling. "A guy grabbed my ass in the gym, yesterday." You breathe out, unsure really of what it is that's made you tell him.

It could be that you trust him. It's hard not to build trust with someone in James' position, it's literally his job to stop things like one hundred kilogram bar bells falling on top of you. Or, it could be that not telling anyone, reliving how powerless you'd felt, going over everything you could've done differently, it's eating you alive. Sharing this with James, who sees every day what gyms are like, how people in some gyms behave, you have a feeling that he'll get it. That he'll help you process.

But, he doesn't say anything. Just stares with a look that you can't read. The muscles in his arms shift, his hands clenching around each other tightly, and his jaw clenches. You think he might not say anything, though, you know James is better than that. The silence stretches until the tears in your eyes abate, then James finally croaks, "He what?"

Your veins crackle with the anger in his voice, the darkness that clouds his eyes. You'd never have imagined James in such a light if he wasn't sitting right in front of you, the very picture of livid. You shrug, as though feigning nonchalance might abate the white hot anger you know very well the feeling of. "I was doing those stupid kick back thingies you're always on about. Just messing about as a cool down, trying to correct my own form. He came over and started giving me advice, which I thought was just him being nice."

James shakes his head, remorse like a white sheet of dread across his beautiful face. You swallow, picking at a hangnail on your thumb, "He kind of just," You shift your hands as though grabbing your own hips, "Grabbed me like that and my throat went dry. When he was leaving he grabbed my ass and said 'you're welcome'."

"You didn't report him to the gym staff?"

You shake your head, lip trapped between your teeth. "I wasn't even planning on telling you until I nearly killed myself with the smith machine."

James sighs, one of his hands coming up to rub at his face. He looks nauseous, almost. "I'll get you a set of keys for this gym. You can work out here, from now on. No one will bother you."

It's a nice offer. It makes your heart swell and your cheeks heat. James has always gone above and beyond. He fits you into his schedule despite your crazy work hours and never charges you for the session if you have to cancel day of. But the reason you don't have a membership at his gym is because it's not in your price range. So you smile, kind, if a little tight lipped, "James, you know I can't."

"I'm not saying get a membership. I'm saying I'll get you a set of keys. You can come and go as you please, even after work, whatever time you want." His voice is thick, his eyes earnest and almost pleading.

"I can't ask you to do that."

James scoots closer, fingers flexing as though he might reach out for you, but is stopping himself. He chases your gaze, waits until he has it, until your lips part under the weight of it and your heart hammers against your chest, to speak. "You're not asking. I'm offering. I can't believe that happened to you and it makes me so angry. I'm not going to sit by and do nothing about it."

You sigh, unwilling to argue when James sounds so passionate, so sure of himself. A smile makes its way to your lips, timid, unsure, "Thanks, Jamie."

He nods. "Any time."

"Are you sure the owner won't mind?" You ask.

James grins, some of the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes, "He's my best mate, it'll be fine."

He offers you a hand as he stands, the storm clouds passing and the weight already lifting from your chest. It feels brighter, in the gym. You take James' hand, let him pull you up. He does his signature move of tugging you until you're stumbling towards him, his laugh echoing off of the concrete walls when you curse him out for it.

"Start from the beginning?" James asks, moving to return the smith machine to where you need it to be.

You take a breath, watch the way his shoulder muscles strain against his top as he bends and lifts. It brings a smile to your lips, the feeling of familiarity you hadn't felt upon entering the gym earlier. "I believe I was at five reps when I dropped the bar."

James tsks, "Dropping it doesn't count as a rep. Call it four."

"Cruel."

James only winks, offers you his award winning smile as you settle yourself under the bar. This time, with the correct form. He nods, and you twist to unlock, eyes on his in the mirror.

"That's one." He grins, crossing his arms over his chest.

You consider dropping the bar on his head, next.

[riizeblr]

thinking about rich boy!anton and his friends who kidnap you to be his birthday gift cause you're all he wants and needs :(

you're his tutor who's so much older than him (legal age gap) that he's had a crush on forever. you're poor and you've always had a shitty stressful life so you'd never noticed the way he would jerk off right next to you as you taught him music. you get so much money and you need it. you could put up with a hormonal boy....

you'd ignore the way he'd be as close as possible obviously sniffing you and touching you sensually and softly like you're made of glass. sometimes he'd drug you and you'd wake up on his bed sore like a train hit you, so much cum leaking from your pussy and onto his bed and breasts drenched in spit. sometimes you'd wake up while he touched you and all he'd ever do is eating you out. of course he'd do so many other things like fuck your mouth and throat and rub his dick against your ass but he'd mainly focus on your pleasure. and then when you come from the bathroom after cleaning up, he'd be licking your cum from his sheets, his glasses tilted on his face. you feign nonchalance. you need the money. anton and his family are the most powerful with the most control of the country. this type of opportunity comes only once in a lifetime. you can take it.

one day you wake up in some basement and you're trapped there. you're scared; you've never seen this place before. you were in some club with your friends finally letting loose. you don't remember taking drinks from strangers. you completely blacked out with no recollection of what happened the day before. then after some days (in an attempt to keep you afraid) anton and his friends enter the basement where anton finally takes you. they restrain you as he has his way.

rating: 18+. mdni.

content: noncon, anton x reader

as you were being blinded by the bright lights of flashlights with drool pooling on your throat, and the repeated stretching of your cunt, you couldn't help but think it was your fault for letting him get away with so much. you turned a blind eye so often, underestimating the man who currently mounted you. you were fooled by the stereotypical look. the thick glasses, disordered hair, baggy clothing, and the nervous stuttering whenever he spoke.

anton had never done anything like this before. usually, when you finally came to, he was already done, leaving you with barely any memories of what had occurred. even when you did recall, you hid the memories away, focused on the numbers increasing with every paycheck. but you doubted there would be any of that this time. nothing to justify what was happening.

he was pathetically desperate. his movements inexperienced, sloppy, like a dog in heat. his fingers dug into your waist, tongue lapping at your neck, breathing loudly in your ears, hair brushing your wet cheeks. he was being made fun of, teasing disguised as encouragement by his friends who held their phones in your face and anton had yet to notice. he seemed fueled by it, nodding when asked if it felt good, if it was everything he had imagined it would be.

[ghostingcrows]

I used to talk about this a lot but 

IDW Prowl is probably one of the most complex characters in the comics and I absolutely hate it when hes reduced down to “the asshole character”

Cause like

Yeah sure hes got a bit of a stick up his ass

But I feel like people just end there analysis of him there

Has he committed a lot of war crimes and done unethical stuff

Yes

But so has literally EVERYONE else in this universe

Starscream is literally the pinnacle of war crimes

The comics make a point calling out even Optimus for his questionable actions and orders during the war with the Dinobots saying he makes them do the dirty work for him

Megatron literally commits genocide and yet his story ends with an alternate version of him going free and exploring the universe with the LL

The literal war lord was treated better and is looked upon more positively than Prowl and I think it just came down to how fucked Prowl got by the writers

Because while Megatrons redemption was all in your face and you got a shit ton of flashbacks that try to justify the eventual atrocities he would commit you don’t get that with Prowl

Even when Prowl is absolutely in the right you constantly have it disregarded by characters making jokes about him overreacting (being mad OP is sending the space tyrant away with free reign of his own ship isn’t overreacting btw-) and as such you start to think of him as a genuinely irrational character when hes not

Prowl is bad at keeping the relationships he forms yes 

But he is not always at fault for that

While his relationship with CD ended poorly Chromedome is also shown to be kinda of a dick sometimes and commits his fair share of fucked up things such as when he literally ATTACKS PROWL AND FORCES HIS WAY INTO HIS MIND TO PROTECT HIMSELF FROM THE CONSEQUENCE OF HIS ACTIONS WHEN PROWL THREATENS TO TELL REWIND ABOUT THE SHITTY STUFF HE DID IN HIS PAST

This leads to Prowls inevitable snowball out of control when this attack leads to an opening for Bombshell (I think its been a while since I read the comics) to use his tech to mind control him forcing him into combining with the contructicons

Something we learn is an immensely intimate thing with their minds being kinda melded 

This was something Prowl did not want 

And when all was said and done and he was calmed down he still had to live with that gesalt he was forced into with them following him around like fanboys

Nobody ever even really stopped to check in on him 

And as such he understandable went a little bit insane

He had just faced an immensely traumatic invasion of his body and mind and on top of stress form feeling like everything was out of his control and like he couldn’t stop the bad things from happening alongside bitter emotions being brought back up with a return visit to Earth and reunion with spike AND the fact that he feels like Optimus doesn’t trust him and like hes just letting Starscream do whatever he want (something that understandably freaks him out seeing as how he spent 4 million years fighting Starscream) he just kinda snaps

He trys to destroy the space bridge so that no one else can leave or get through and so he can regain some semblance of control

Is it wrong

Yes

But he was not in a good state of mind and no one was helping him at all 

And immediately following his arrest afterward Prowl is confronted by OP who is supposed to be his friend and when Prowl doesn’t say the right things to him to placate him Optimus’ response is to punch him out a window and beat the shit out of him

And not being given any room to breath this is immediately follow up my him getting kidnapped by Tarantulas who is very obviously an impactful and negative part of his past

Prowl just has bad event, one after the other, happen to him over and over again and not only does no one check up on him afterwards to see if hes okay but everyone actively makes fun of him for being understandable unstable

Prowl is a fucking tragedy and not many people seem to be able to see beyond what characters in the comics think of him

[abitohoney]

Workplace Violations

AO3 link

Grayson x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Tags: Pining, Enforcer Reader, Power Bottom Grayson, Soft Top Reader, Dom/sub Undertones, Soft Dom Grayson, Sub Reader, Smut, Praise Kink (For both), Lesbian Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Voice Kink, Porn with Feelings

Word count: 5.9k

Summary: Sheriff Grayson, your superior and apparently not-so-secret crush, has been under considerable stress as of late. So when you offer your aid via several means of relaxation, she isn’t about to refuse. And when she suggests some additional techniques that just so happen to be considerably less… conventional than others, well who are you to deny your superior?

AN: Already on AO3, just copying it over here. This was for an anon request from WAY too long ago. I'm very far behind on requests. 😩

To say today had been exhausting for Grayson would be a severe understatement. But, really, it's been far longer than just today. More like a hell of a year. Today just happened to be the shitty ass icing on the shitty ass cake. Sheriff Grayson (your superior and mentor for just over a year now) had spent the afternoon down in the Undercity. You (her faithful lap dog as some down there would call you) were at her side while she was trying to cut a deal with Vander to address the rising crime in Piltover. Crime carried out, very obviously, by the citizens of the Undercity. Grayson- bless her patience, understanding, and willingness to compromise- had gone from being chewed out by the Piltover council that morning for not doing enough, to being chewed out by the Undercity's overseers for doing too much. She just couldn't win. It was honestly heartbreaking for you to watch all of it. You knew it was wearing on her. She wore that confidence and carried out that grit with both the city she served and the poor repressed city beneath it. However, the moment she was back alone- well, besides you- in her office, she'd let that facade crumble and show just how utterly defeated she felt.

Striding into her office with you in tow not far behind, Grayson flops down onto the tall back chair at her desk with a resigned sigh. Leaning back, she closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her hooked nose. "Fuck," she exhales under her breath.

Her raspy voice, something you've been rather fond of since the first time you heard her speak, is strained even more than usual. You shift from one foot to the other from where you stand at the opposite side of the desk, struggling with what to do or say to help her.

"Sheriff, if I may," you begin softly, flinching when you see her brows furrow deeper.

“You know that formality is not necessary when we are alone.”

"Grayson," you correct yourself and she seems to at least relax her brows a bit at that. "I know things have been rough with trying to keep the peace between Piltover and the Undercity. It may seem like everyone thinks you're failing. But, I know there are people who do see the effort you're putting into this. They see and appreciate your genuine compassion for both sides. I know I do. And I- well, I'm quite proud to work for you."

Removing her fingers from her nose, she opens her eyes to regard you with a considerably softer expression. Her lips curl into a small, contented smile and you can't help the way that makes your heart skip a beat. "You're too kind, dear," she sighs. "Sometimes I wonder if you're too kind for this job."

And there went that little bit of hope you felt.

She must have noticed too, her eyes going wide for a moment before she starts backpedaling. "That's not what I meant. You're very good at your job. Why else do you think I only ever take you along on my most important tasks? What I meant is that it's not good for you. I don't want to see you so let down when things don't go as planned." Her already beautifully raspy voice is even heavier than usual, weighed down by how exhausted she is.

And it just breaks your heart.

"Sheri- Grayson, it's- it's not so much when things don't go as planned. It's when I see how much it hurts you," you admit, and you fear she can see the way your cheeks redden when she raises a brow.

She releases another heavy sigh and shakes her head. "Please don't worry about me, dear. I'll be just fine." Her tired eyes drift from you to the tall cabinet along the wall just to your right, where she stores her secret stash of liquid relaxation.

Secret to everyone besides you that is.

"Can I get you a drink?" You offer with a smile.

Her eyes brighten just a tad when they flit back to you. "Only if you pour one for yourself as well." The corner of her mouth tugs into a tiny smile before she adds, "And talk with me."

“Gladly,” you reply, and you hope she doesn’t catch how your smile grows dramatically at her request. Quickly, you head to the cabinet, removing two tall flute glasses from the upper half, then an unopened bottle of champagne from the refrigerated lower half.

Setting the glasses on her desk, you can feel her gaze on you as you attempt, with some minor difficulty, to remove the foil from the bottle.

“Need help with that?” she asks, amusement evident in the lilt of her voice.

You’ve only done this a couple of times, but you want her to relax. And you want to impress her with how cleanly you can do this.

“No. I’ve got it,” you reply. Once you’ve pried the wire cage loose, you aim the bottle away from both of you, just in case your statement turns out to be a lie. With one hand wrapped firmly around the bottle and one around the cork, you give both a good twist. The cork slips out with a resounding pop, but it’s controlled. Not so much as a drop is spilled. Grabbing one of the glasses, you carefully pour one and hand it to Grayson before pouring one for yourself.

"Nicely done," Grayson laughs as she taps her glass to yours. "To good company during less than good times."

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, and you hope she doesn't notice. "To a wonderful Sheriff," you say softly before bringing the glass to your mouth. You pause though, enraptured by the view of Grayson's lips through her own glass. They curl into a smile you've never seen her give anyone else in her presence. As you watch the way her bottom lip presses against the rim, your mind wanders to places it probably shouldn't. What would those lips feel like pressed against your own? On your neck? On your-

"Are you going to just stand there all evening, dear?"

Grayson's teasing and subsequent short chuckle snap you out of your daydream.

"S-sorry," you stammer. You duck your head, hoping she won’t notice your embarrassment as you scurry to take a seat in the chair at the opposite side of her desk. She simply grins at you, and despite it being over your own silly fumble, you can't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest that you're the one to cause it.

The two of you drink for some time. Exactly how long, you're not certain, but it's long enough for the two of you to down the last bit of champagne. Long enough for you to really start feeling those drinks kick in.

The alcohol toys with your senses. It leaves your judgment lacking, and your control lowered. You don't even realize how you're so blatantly admiring Grayson from across the desk as she stares wistfully off into the distance, reminiscing over her younger years. Nor how your eyes linger on her beautifully chiseled jaw and cheekbones, the swell of her chest. Or how you lick your lips when you watch, with blatant interest, as she lifts her glass and presses it against her lips to take a drink. Or how you shift in your seat when you see the bobbing motion down her neck as she swallows.

When did it get so hot in here?

Your focus shifts to the way her shoulders and back tense when she leans forward to rest her elbows on her desk. "Can I give you a massage?"

You bring a hand to your mouth, clearly too late to cover your slip. If your cheeks weren't already warm from the alcohol, they certainly would be now.

Grayson turns to you and stares, wide-eyed, for a moment, but says nothing.

"That was inappropriate of me to ask you," you finally blurt out after what feels like an eternity stewing in your own embarrassment. "I'm so sor-"

"Yes," Grayson interrupts.

Your mouth hangs open briefly before you’re able to form a reply. "What?" You ask dumbly.

"I would like that," she replies. “I could really use something to help relax right now.”

You stand— a bit too quickly. In your inebriated enthusiasm, you start to lose your balance. Catching yourself with a hand on the edge of her desk, you pray she doesn’t notice. You glance in her direction. Of course she noticed. Those sharp eyes are honed in on your hand. The one very obviously keeping you from toppling over.

Damnit.

“Perhaps another time,” she suggests, but the corner of her mouth curls just the tiniest amount in amusement.

Laughing awkwardly, you shake your head. “No. I’m good.” Feeling steady enough, you make your way behind her chair. Even with the alcohol to help calm your nerves, you still can’t shake the nervous feeling that washes over you. You're about to put your hands on Grayson, even if it’s just some innocent shoulder massages.

Innocent. Completely innocent.

Grayson normally stands a decent amount taller than you, but with her seated and you standing, it’s almost dizzying to have this bit of height over her. Slipping your hands over her shoulders, you run your palms back and forth across them several times. Glancing down, you find the view is going to be rather… distracting. Her uniform hugs the curves of her breasts a little too nicely.

So much for innocent.

Trying to keep your thoughts from drifting to places they shouldn’t, you turn your attention to the thick hair that covers the top of her head. As you start to incorporate gentle squeezing into your ministrations, you can feel the tense muscles beneath your hands start to relax bit by bit.

Grayson releases a quiet, deep hum of approval before taking a sip of her drink. “That’s lovely,” she rasps.

Janna, her voice is like fucking velvet.

You start to get a bit rougher with your hands, really digging at some of those stubborn knots. Her shoulders suddenly jerk, and you freeze, afraid you hurt her. Before you can apologize, that delightfully husky voice cuts through the air again.

“Mmmm. Right there, sweetheart. That feels wonderful.”

Sweetheart? Sweetheart?! Does she have any idea what she's doing to you right now? Innocence be damned. The way she fucking says those specific words. The possible connotation… used in a different… situation. Oh, what you would give to have that be the case. You quickly resume the massage, making sure you do exactly what you were doing to get her to drop that sweet praise.

Grayson’s eyes close and her head lulls back against the chair. The new position reveals a delightful stretch of her neck. And her face. Her blissful expression. Those slightly parted, wet lips. All at your doing.

"Lower," she husks.

You blink. "What?"

"You can go lower," she replies, and goodness, that incredibly sexy voice of hers has somehow gotten even huskier. Sultrier. And… suggestive?

As much as you want to think she means nice lower on her front side, you know that can't possibly be it. So you let your hands slide lower down her back. At least until you catch her eyes opening and flashing up to you as she arches a brow.

Oh my.

You start to reverse your path and her smile returns. She's watching your face so close that it only adds to the sudden, exponential increase in your body temperature. As the tips of your fingers just barely graze over the swell of her breasts, you freeze again.

Can you do this? Should you do this? You want to. She apparently wants you to. But it's not right, is it?

Apparently noticing your distress, Grayson places a hand gently on one of yours. "Only if you want to, sweetheart," she says quietly.

Oh, sweet Janna.

"Are you alright?" She asks, breaking you from your momentary daze.

"I- Yes. Why?" You manage to get out.

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, you just whimpered something along the lines of Oh sweet Janna."

Thank goodness your cheeks are already flush with the effects of consuming entirely too much alcohol, because the way your face burns at the realization of your slip, you could probably set fire to her hair if you got any closer.

“I’m- I’m okay,” you stammer. “Just had a bit too much to drink.” It’s not exactly a lie. Thankfully she appears to be satisfied with your answer, as her hand slides back down to rest on the arm of her chair.

Slowly, you let your hands travel further down before grabbing a handful of each of her breasts. You squeeze, gently, and the soft moan that pulls from her throat nearly has you moaning all the same.

You've only dreamed of this moment for the past several months. Only ever thought it would be a dream. Nothing more. Simply fantasizing about what you'd like to do to her. How you'd like to touch her. How you'd like to please her. Yet, here you are, in her office just fucking groping her, kneading her breasts as if this was an entirely normal occurrence between you two. And she seems to be enjoying it just as much as you are. Her eyes have fallen shut and her lips are pulled into a soft smile. Such a beautiful smile. And kissable lips-

“Open my jacket.”

“I’m- I’m sorry?” you stutter, blinking several times. Then you realize she's staring up at you expectantly.

“Come now. No more playing coy with me. You think I haven’t noticed how you watch me. How you hang on every word I say, even when it’s not work-related? Your hands are already on my tits, now just get my damn clothes out of the way.”

“Grayson, I- I-” you stammer.

What are you even supposed to say to that? She knows you've been infatuated with her? Have you really been that obvious? And she’s okay with it? Is the feeling mutual? She’s asking you to take her clothes off and touch her… so it must be, right?

You must be dreaming. It's the only logical explanation.

Hesitantly, you reach your hands down to release the clasps on her jacket. You’re not sure if it’s from nerves, excitement, or a bit of both, but your hands shake noticeably. Hopefully, she doesn’t notice. As you lean over her, stretching to reach that last clasp just above her belt buckle, your face comes dangerously close to hers. So close that you can smell the hints of citrus and spice from her champagne and the crisp, clean scent of her starched blouse beneath the jacket. You take in a deep, quiet breath through your nose as you release the clasp.

“You smell wonderful,” you murmur what was supposed to be kept in your mind. Quickly catching your slip this time, you try to withdraw, but Grayson’s hand catches yours against her chest.

Grayson’s eyes meet yours as she tilts her head to regard you. “Listen, darling, all this demure behavior, the blushing, it’s all rather delightful. Flattering really. But, I need you to understand that I’m more than okay with what we’re doing. I wouldn’t be asking you to do this if it wasn’t what I wanted, now would I?”

“No,” you reply dumbly, averting your eyes from her gaze.

“Now if you are not comfortable with this, we can stop.”

Your eyes go wide and shoot back to hers. “No!” you nearly shout. Janna, you need to get a hold of yourself. “I- I mean I’ve only dreamt of touching you like this for…” you trail off and look away again, feeling as if you’ve already admitted too much.

“As have I,” Grayson says softly as she gives your hand a squeeze.

What?

You gape at her, utterly dumbfounded.

She chuckles at your expression, and it’s so wonderfully deep and heartfelt it makes your head spin. “Don’t look so surprised, darling. Hard not to fall for a pretty, sweet thing like you.”

If you could blush any harder, you certainly would. But at least now you’re feeling considerably more confident knowing she’s had eyes for you all this time as well.

“Shall we?” Grayson asks as she slips her hand away from yours to grasp the buckle of her belt. It’s a simple question, but the way her voice drops lower, laced with a suggestive tone- not to mention the way her lips curl into the slightest smirk- clearly there’s something else behind those two words.

You nod and she proceeds to open her belt while you unbutton her white blouse. Pushing her jacket and blouse further open, you find her donning a simple white satin bra. Not that your attention remains there long when there’s so much soft, supple cleavage sitting there waiting to be touched.

Feeling a bit more emboldened now, you don’t wait for her to tell you again. As you slide your hands down her warm, soft chest, you watch her expression closely. Her eyelids droop as you slip beneath the cups of her bra to take a generous amount of her in your hands and gently squeeze. The deep, quiet groans that escape her parted lips encourage you to keep doing exactly what you’re doing.

“You’re doing wonderful, love,” Grayson groans.

Love?

Now you’re downright swooning for this woman. The pet names. The praise. The confessions. The touching. The moans. It’s all so wonderful and perfect. She’s so perfect. And as you start to roll your fingers over her hardening nipples, her responses become so much more delightful.

The soft groans spilling from her mouth turn into a sharp gasp when you give each nipple a playful pinch. Her grip on the arms of the chair becomes so tight you can hear the wood creak. She adjusts in her seat, scooting forward enough to allow her to spread her strong thighs. “Fuck me,” she husks.

Lust-filled eyes meet yours and you realize she wasn’t just moaning expletives out of pleasure. That was a command.

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

“Come here.”

Though she’s rather unclear on where exactly here is, you’re fairly certain she means between her and her desk. You move quickly, but she’s apparently quite impatient. You’re no more than turned to face her and she’s practically ripping the front of your uniform open, leaving you just as exposed as she is. Even the little gasp that you suck in is cut short as she grabs you by the lapels of your jacket and pulls you onto her lap, forcing you to straddle her.

Your hands fly out to grasp at the back of her chair, fearful you’re going to knock heads with how forcefully she pulls you against her.

“Grays-” your startled cry is muffled by the sudden press of her lips to yours. But it doesn’t matter. You forget everything else because she’s fucking kissing you. And it’s nothing like you had ever imagined. It’s so much better. She tastes of citrus and spices, even a hint of coffee. And her lips are smooth, soft, and moving hungrily. Janna, she is kissing you hard, and wild. It’s not sloppy. She keeps it clean and respectable. But it’s so deep and passionate. Like she's been wanting to do this for as long as you have.

As you gather your bearings, you let your hands slip down to her shoulders. You cling to her as you try to match the intensity of her kiss, tilting your head to let your nose rest alongside hers. The thin satin of her bra, and the cotton of yours, do little to withhold the warmth and softness of your chests pressed together. It leaves you sighing into her mouth, which lends her the opportunity to delve her tongue inside to roll along yours.

When she finally pulls back and loosens her hold on your jacket, you’re left panting and wide-eyed. Meanwhile, she seems to still be intent on devouring you whole. Without warning she pulls the front of your bra down, releasing both breasts before grabbing a handful of each. She pushes you back until your head rests against the top of her desk. Then she leans over to take a nipple into her mouth and sucks. Hard.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath. Her rough treatment- the downright manhandling- is a bit startling. You’re well aware of how tough this woman can get, but you’re usually the exception. She’s typically so calm, gentle, and tender when she’s alone with you. This is a complete contrast. But you are not complaining. Not. One. Bit.

You sink your hands into her thick, wavy hair, pulling her face closer as you feel her swirl that wonderful tongue around your hardened peak. The pleasure of her mouth sucking, licking, and tugging at one nipple while her hand roughly fondles the other makes you arch your back and squirm in her lap.

When she sits back up, releasing your breast with a wet pop, it takes you a moment to come to your senses. Your hands, still in her hair, loosen and slip down to her shoulders while she helps sit you back upright. You catch her expression through half-lidded eyes- and damn, she’s still just as ravenous looking as she was moments ago.

“On your knees,” she rasps. “Remove my pants.”

Still too dazed from the onslaught of physical attention, it takes you a moment to fully process her commands. However, the moment she starts to reposition her chair to give you more room, you quickly move to stand between her thighs. Eager eyes locked with hers, you sink to your knees between the spread of her legs.

With the help of her lifting her bottom off the chair, you quickly slip her pants and underwear down over the top of her boots. And as she settles back into her seat, legs together, you wonder if she’s toying with you. You peer up at her, and judging by the faint curl of her lips, that’s exactly what she’s doing. But you can play along with that.

With your hands hovering just over the tops of her knees, you ask, “May I?”

“Please, love. I didn’t call you over here to simply stare,” she teases, but you’re too enraptured by the lust laced in her gravelly voice to form any sort of reply.

You run the palms of your hands over her knees and slowly up the tops of her toned thighs. Your fingertips trace over cords of muscle beneath soft, warm skin. They tense as your thumbs slip to the insides, inching closer to the apex. Bottom lip clamped between your teeth, you guide her legs apart.

Oh heavens!

Not only can you see her arousal glistening at the edges of her entrance. You can smell it. Somehow, despite a long day, she still smells fresh and clean. Much like her hair. But there’s still that familiar musk that’s all too specific to that area. And it leaves you rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to satiate the growing ache between them.

With your thumbs drawing closer to her folds, you peer up at her through your lashes, waiting for her to give you permission. To tell you what she wants. It's clear that she enjoys the position of authority, of having that control and power, in more than just her job.

Grayson meets your gaze through heavy-lidded eyes and her mouth pulls into a small, appreciative grin. She runs the backs of her fingers along your warm cheek before giving you a nod to continue.

Eyes locked on her expression, you slowly slip one finger inside her. And it's heavenly. She's so incredibly warm, soft, and wet.

“You feel so good,” you murmur. And you’re not sure if the way she clenches around your digit is a result of the praise or just the stimulation, but the quiet groan she releases quickly distracts you from that thought. It’s absolutely divine. Hearing it in her raspy tone is enough to have you biting back your own moan.

“Heavens, Grayson. I think I could get off on your voice alone.”

This time, when her hips buck towards your hand, a strangled gasp falling from her parted lips, you know it’s definitely from your words alone.

Wow.

You watch, transfixed, as her lids fall heavier until you barely see her eyes through the tiny slits. And you wonder, if she’s feeling this great when you’ve only just begun to touch her, what will she be like once you really get going?

Apparently too lost in thought again, you don’t realize just how long you’ve been gaping at her until she’s opening her eyes to peer down at you expectantly.

“Darling, please.”

She says please, but you know damn well she’s not asking. She’s insisting. You whisper a sheepish apology and avert your eyes, focusing instead on your finger as you drag it back out. It's coated, glistening with her arousal. You want to taste her, but you can still feel her watchful eyes on you. Instead, you slip a second finger in, sinking both up to the last knuckle. This time, when she groans, and her thigh muscles flex beneath your other hand, you can't hold back your own breathy moan.

Grayson lifts her hips off the seat as you curl your fingers and drag the tips along her walls while pulling them back out.

You watch, awestruck, as her hands curl around the wooden armrests. A quick glance back up at her face reveals her eyes have fallen nearly shut again.

"Fuck," Grayson curses under her breath.

You repeat the motion- fingers straight in, then curled out- several times, delighting in every twitch of her muscles. Every raspy groan that escapes past her parted lips. Every jerk of her hips.

She looks so perfect. Her square jaw so tense with concentration, dark brows furrowed, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. A goddess.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” you whisper. And fuck, the way her head rolls back at your praise- you never in all your fantasies had imagined her like this. It leaves you teeming with such desire to please her, you can hardly think straight.

“Mouth,” she rasps between ragged breaths.

What?

“Use your mouth, love!”

That husky, breathless demand is enough to knock you out of your reverie to realize what she’s asking you to do. And you’re more than happy to oblige. Without breaking the rhythm you’ve set with your fingers, you scoot further between the spread of her knees, pushing her feet- bound by her pants around her boots- further beneath her chair. You peer up at her through your lashes once more, noticing how she’s watching you through the slits of her eyes, before letting your attention fall to the wet folds surrounding your fingers.

Eyes fluttering shut, you slowly drag the tip of your tongue from just above her entrance to the swollen bundle of nerves above. The taste of her floods your mouth.

“You taste so good,” you moan, but you’re not sure she can even hear you over her own deep groan. That is until you feel the way she clenches around your fingers and hear the almost guttural words that leave her throat.

“Oh fuck me.”

Wide-eyed, you’re not given a moment to respond to that reaction before you feel her fingers curl along the back of your head to pull, or rather shove, your mouth against her. Your muffled gasp quickly devolves into a soft moan. Nose buried in her thick curls, you inhale deeply. You’re met with a heady mixture of her arousal and the crisp scent of her soap. The insatiable need that forms a tight coil deep in your core drives an urge to touch yourself. To relieve some of that ache between your own legs. But you’re determined to focus on pleasuring Grayson.

Lips wrapped around her clit, you gently suck, just once, to gauge her reaction. And a reaction you get. Nails bite into the back of your scalp as Grayson inhales sharply from above you. Her muscles tense beneath where your other hand still rests on the top of her thigh.

Still feeling the desire to experiment and learn what gets you the best response, you swirl the tip of your tongue just around the sensitive bud. That one earns you a throaty groan and her grinding against your face.

"Don't tease," she husks.

If ever you were to lose yourself to sound alone, it would be to her voice right now. It's like gravel, but in the best way possible. So husky, deep, broken, and needy. And it makes her demand sound considerably less, well, demanding.

Despite the lack of severity in her tone, you still heed her instruction and press the flat of your tongue fully against her while scissoring your fingers. That combined motion elicits another one of those heavenly groans.

"Faster. Fuck me faster," She rasps.

You can feel her nails digging deeper into your scalp as she tries to set the pace, and you do your best to match that with your fingers. It doesn't take long for you to find the perfect cadence of sucking and licking, fingers curling and scissoring. One that has her releasing nothing but a series of curses and deep moans, all in that intoxicating voice of hers.

The moment you feel the muscles beneath your hands tense, you know she's reached the pinnacle. Aching to witness her undoing, you peer up at her through the lashes of your heavy lids. And oh Janna, you were already damn near bursting with your own arousal just with the sound of her, but now to see the normally cool and composed Grayson a complete wreck, there's no word to describe how turned on you are. Her jaw is slack, brows pinched, chest heaving, and hairline covered in a fine sheen of sweat. But that's not even the best part. At some point, the hand she'd been using to clutch at the armrest is now groping at her own breast.

Grayson's glassy eyes meet yours, and you try to convey to her without words just how wonderful she is. How she entices you through literally every sense. How you want, so bad, to make her cum. For her to release all that built-up tension.

She must see it in your eyes, because within a mere breath, you feel her muscles tense beneath your hand and her hips suddenly freeze. The hand at the back of your head holds you tight against her. A raspy, near breathless, curse falls from her open mouth, and- oh good heavens - you can feel her walls clench and spasm around your fingers. Warm, cum seeps past your fingers as you slowly help her ride out that sweet release. Captivated, you simply stare up at her through hooded eyes as she goes through the stages of her climax. 

When she meets your gaze again, the tiniest smile pulls at her lips. She gently rubs her fingers over the back of your head, soothing the little crescent-shaped indents she left there in her fervor.

She opens her mouth to speak, but freezes as both of you are rather abruptly ripped from your reveries by the door to her office swinging open unannounced.

Suddenly, you find your head clamped between two very powerful thighs, essentially locking your face and fingers in place as Grayson shoves you further beneath the desk while scooting further under herself. The hand in your hair protects you from knocking it against the desktop above, but as stunned and terrified as you are at potentially being caught going down on your superior, brain damage is the last of your concerns.

"Sheriff! There's been-"

The man's voice- a new recruit you recognize- suddenly trails off. No doubt because he's spotted Grayson in a rather suspiciously tousled state.

“Are- are you alright, ma’am?” he asks, taking in the sight of Grayson's open jacket, unbuttoned blouse, heaving chest, and the sweat at her brow and hairline.

Meanwhile, while stuffed into a terribly confined space, legs contorted in an odd manner to leave room for Grayson's legs, you find yourself struggling for oxygen. The death grip of Grayson's thighs around your head, along with the fear of stimulating her with any attempted movement, leaves your face buried deep against her cunt. But in all honesty, you think if you die right there from suffocation, is there really any better way to go than between the legs of Piltover's one and only drop-dead (pun intended) gorgeous sheriff?

“Yes! I’m fine! Besides the fact that one of my subordinates just barged into my private office without knocking," Grayson snaps.

Even though your sense of hearing is rather muffled, you can still detect that lingering husky panting in her tone. You've never heard her so… flustered. And you'd be lying if you said that didn't give you just a little stroke to the ego knowing you were the cause.

"Whatever it is, so long as none of my officers are bleeding, missing limbs, or on fire, surely it can wait until I've finished my work here.”

“Oh. I- I'm so sorry, ma’am,” the man stammers as he ducks out of the room as quickly as he came, nearly slamming the door shut behind him.

Grayson releases a long sigh as she leans back into her chair. Realizing that she's put you in peril, albeit a glorious one, she quickly scoots her chair back out and opens her legs.

When you're finally freed, you sit back on your haunches and suck in some much-needed oxygen.

"Fuck," Grayson heaves. "Are you alright, darling?"

You smile up at her sweetly, feeling plenty good and satisfied. Carefully pulling your fingers out from her warm cunt, you lock eyes with her as you slip them into your mouth and suck them clean.

"That's a good girl," Grayson coos. "Now come. Sit with me."

Slowly, you rise to your feet and straddle her lap. You rest your arms on her shoulders and she wraps hers around your waist. The two of you just smile at each other in silence for a moment, simply enjoying the views and the company.

"That was… so good, Grayson," you finally speak. "I damn near lost it just watching and listening to you."

Grayson says nothing. Instead, she slips a hand behind your neck and pulls you down for a kiss, but you can feel her smile. And you’re certain she can feel yours.

When she pulls back to admire your smile, you realize she is definitely much more relaxed now.

"So I take it my massage helped?" You jest.

"Oh it just certainly did," she chuckles. "So well, in fact, that if I wasn't concerned with the obvious conflict of interest, I'd say you deserve a hefty raise for this.”

"Well, maybe you could pay in another way?" You suggest with a mischievous grin.

"And what's that?" She asks with a cocked brow.

"Take me back to your place or come to mine and return the favor?"

"It would be my pleasure," she replies before pulling you in for another, much deeper kiss.

[thomotomo]

Accidental Reveal - Faker x Male Reader

A/N: Once again coming back from the dead to drop you a lil something~ My current hyperfixation is Faker (and T1 and the LCK as a whole too) and I have a few more ideas in stock so maybe I'm gonna drop some more stuff soon! If you wanna request for any League player don't hesitate, I'm absolutely down :D

You were a rather well-known streamer, mostly known for playing Osu and a variety of games such as sometimes league of legends. You had been dating Lee Sang hyeok, better known as Faker, for the past 3 years. The two of you had recently decided it would be good to start living together and for the past two weeks you had slowly been moving your stuff to his house.

You hadn't been streaming during that time, chilling and hanging out with your boyfriend whilst installing your stuff. You had been lucky it was the off-season so could spend most of your time together.

But today, Sang Hyeok had went out to meet up at T1 Headquarters for some work so you decided it would be nice to stream so you had spent most of the afternoon catching up with your chat, telling them about your move with your partner (obviously omitting with who and where exactly you had been moving).

You had been playing Osu, it had been a while and you had been itching to try out new maps so you were rather happy to be able to do so once again. You were having so much fun that you hadn't noticed your phone going off quietly so you jumped, when, right after you finished a song with a nice grade.

You took off your headset as you saw your boyfriend grinning face. You exhaled loudly before standing up to greet him, giving him a peck, completely forgetting that you were live,so in the meantime, your chat was going wild, even though your camera's angle wasn't super wide, they still had seen Sanghyeok's face.

You were in the midst of telling to him what you were doing when suddenly your face decomposed as you realised that you were live and that people now most likely knew who you had moved in with.

"I was streaming...", Sanghyeok's face froze too and you winced before quickly seating back on your chair.

"Hey everyone thanks for stopping by today, I er... gotta go do something quick so we'll see each other very soon! Bye."

You waved at the camera and ended the stream, keeping an eye on the chat, who was still yelling and typing "FAKER?!?!?!!?", you knew you had fucked up. You shut down everything and turned towards your boyfriend, after all he was the bigger celebrity out of the two of you. You knew that you weren't 1000% in the shit as T1 and the management alongside both of your respective families already knew about your relationship so it wouldn't come off as a surprise to them but to the rest of the world and especially to the whole country, it was another thing.

"Fuck Sanghyeok I'm so sorry. I was happy to see you and I forgot to tell you..."

"No it's okay I should've knocked." He said as he sighed and shook his head. The two of you stood there in silence, you were dreading the panicked phone call that would ensue. You stepped towards your boyfriend, kissing his cheek, trying to soothe him at least a bit.

"Hey, we can't do anything about it at the moment. Do you wanna eat something? We can order."

He nodded quietly, he was still frowning, you could feel that he was stressed by everything that was happening. You took out your phone out and, ignoring the DMs coming from some of your friends, you ordered comfort food for the both of you and waited for your order to arrive.

You could see that he was glued to his phone and you could only guess what he was reading. As if he could read your brain and hear your worry he spoke up.

"Don't worry it's just the groupchat with the guys. They're worried about us."

You couldn't help but let out a quiet breath. At least he wasn't letting shitty comments online get to him. You were itching to take a look at Twitter but you knew it wouldn't be good, looking at the timer for when your food would be delivered, you couldn't help but bite your lip in worry. Sanghyeok chuckled quietly and grabbed your face, peppering it with gentle kisses.

"Stop frowning and worrying we're going to be okay. Even if people don't like it. What do you want to watch?"

You smiled softly at him and both of you checked Netflix to see what show you'd be watching tonight. Soon after you had started the first episode of this show you had been wanting to watch the delivery person called you up. You went to fetch the food and as soon as you came back, the both of you settled and dived into your dinner, opting to enjoy it quietly and ignoring the storm you had created. Once you finished cleaning up the dinner the two of you laid down on the couch, him laying down on you.

Whilst you were really into the show you had turned on, you had moved to replying to your friends and family who had discovered the situation or were worried about you, reassuring them that the two of you would be okay.

Once that was done you turned back your focus on the show and on Sanghyeok, caressing his hair gently. You were just basking in the presence of each other, after all you it was late at night and worrying about what had happened was useless and you would deal with the consequences tomorrow.

[cristalthenarwhalpotato]

Introducing Marnal Corezz! My Star Wars Jedi OC or Jedisona

She's a Jedi Padawan during the Clone Wars. Hope nothing traumatic happens hehehehe

Marnal is obviously a Nautolan as anyone with Star Wars lore knowledge can tell. (Although technically we've never seen a pink Nautolan we have seen red and purple according to Wookiepedia so that means pink is possible fuck you)

She's the Padawan of Jedi Knight Riven Merai, who i plan on making a finished artwork for later but for now have this shitty doodle of how I imagine their dynamic.

(He's a great influence totally)

Marnal Corezz is, pretty chipper and easily excited. Often a beam of endless talking once she opens her mouth. (The adhd and tism is strong) She also enjoys reading up on lore, history and overall knowledge, and is good at adapting to a situation. Improv is something of a specialty.

However in stressful situations she can sometimes freeze up, getting caught overthinking or even panicking. In these moments all she needs is a nudge or reminder to stay on focus- and then she's back on track with little issue.

Since she's ultimately a bit of a self insert I've added several of my own traits. But she's still very distinctly different from me imo- not just counting her being a space wizard.

Also she's a bit of an empath because 1. I am very empathetic 2. Nautolans can apparently feel the vibes of other people's feelings and 3. Jedi bullshit.

-

Marnal practices Niman and Shii Cho mainly, but thanks to Niman's customizable nature she's implemented Ataru as well to make up for her size. She's below average for a Nautolan. (I'm not self projecting shut up)

Here's her Lightsaber and Padawan braid from my doodles. I decided on a yellow-orange leaning color since they're associated with Jedi Sentinels but also with Jedi who are between Consular and Guardian. But also that it typically symbolizes a strong connection to the Light. Also it looks the best on her lol

I found that Padawan beads mean different studies or accomplishments. She has white and yellow, symbolizing healing and weaponry of all kinds. Marnal begins to study force healing after healing an ally during one of her first missions. But it's part of the Healing corps. Her force healing is rudimentary at best, and typically she can only do minor things and not fully heal or close wounds. (Fuck the sequels) plus it drains her a lot, so she's encouraged to avoid using it...

Her weaponry bead is due to her lightsaber skills, but also due to her learning how to tinker and master other weapons. In fact she is a good shot with a blaster. After order 66 she even starts using one a lot more. Because like- nobody suspects a Jedi with a g u n

Anyways yeah that's enough rambles for now. I've made a lot of lore and I am having so much fun making Star wars ocs etc.

Also some of the lore was made alongside @hoodedalchemist who I've dragged down into my oldest fandom obsession. In fact we gpt shared oc lore going on. Dunno if Alchemist will ever post it tho but I am tagging them because they deserve appreciation.

[llitchilitchi]

Yes I want to hear it. Don't hesitate to delete right after posting, I'll see your account update

okay so warnings for mentions of the drituation, the stuff happening with wil and q and all the terrible things that come with it including suicide mentions

mcyttwt has turned fandom into a cult and I am not even joking anymore. it requires people to be invested in it full time, spend a lot of time and energy on it to the point of exhaustion (which is an actual cult leader thing to do to make people easier to manipulate) and causes everyone high levels of stress while also making everyone be the cop so that everyone behaves according to a very puritan doctrine.

we have seen it time and time again and the worst of it that I was emotionally still present for was the drituation when I saw people mass deactivate and half of my dash was in a massive panic talking about killing themselves because of what happened. it was a massive downward spiral and I see it becoming A Trend, especially since we had two messed up situations happen back to back now.

there is a really unhealthy trend of people connecting their whole identities to fandom and the One White Boy they happen to be watching the most, oftentimes it's a fandom they found when they were at a very low point (again, this is a cult recruiting technique. while I am not saying that people joining fandoms when feeling low is a cult thing, the fact that people enter a fandom that is so emotionally taxing while also fully investing themselves into this one thing does oftentimes have similar results) - there is obviously the cult of purity and perfection and "unproblematicness" involved in all this, from ships through behaviour checks and content that we are allowed to create and consume. it's really, really unhealthy in so many ways because if something big happens, like with the stuff about W being introduced, people tend to fall apart because they intertwined their lives so thoroughly with the figures they worship with a puritan mindset they feel like they lost purpose. there are people who try to scrub Years of their lives off the internet (and sometimes even delete off their hard drives or destroy items tied to it IRL) because their fave CC happened to do something shitty. which is a really scary thing to even think about.

I'm genuinely getting the feeling that people are so deep in denial (both W fans before W admitted to everything, and now with qolos being in denial of Q fucking up big time) BECAUSE they tied their whole lives with the celebrity they love so much. combined with the fact that mcyttwt has a massive purity issue, admititing that their "figure of worship" did something bad, which in their puritan eyes is an irredeemable sin, their lives are pointless, all they ever did was pointless, and by supporting someone who was fucking them over and hurting others they are taking on the blame like it's the primordial sin.

so to keep themselves from admitting that people Can fuck up and some of them Do fuck up, be it intentional or not, Especially when they see such things as Irredeemable, they just keep lying to themselves while wrapping it up in woke language, because the purity was always packaged in leftist language without any of them actually examining what any of those words mean.

tl;dr the fandom is a cult and I am worried because it is actively harming people's wellbeings

[daisydeacks]

Jim Hopper Comfort Blurb 

Jim Hopper x Reader

A/N: my first attempt at hopper, dippin my toesies in for writing him. hope y'all enjoy :,)  it’s just fluff, comforting. that sort of thing. very short. sorry in advance to my jackass followers

It was late when pounding knocks came from your front door. You were already in bed, your dog Peanut curled up at your feet. You had been sleeping, almost curled up on your side on one side of the bed. You didn’t hear the pounding at first; you were a deep sleeper in the winter. Something about the cold kept you knocked out until your morning alarm. 

The feeling of Peanut jumping jumping off of your bed followed by her barking had woken you out of your slumber. You muttered intelligible words under your breath as you forced your eyes open, blinking as you tried to adjust to the darkness. You weren't sure what time it was. The first thought to cross your mind was “well, you can just go back to bed and let her bark, it won’t matter if you sleep in. You have tomorrow off!” 

You almost did succumb to your half asleep thoughts before the sounds of knocking echoed throughout the house and to your bedroom again. You groaned loudly this time, throwing your blankets off of you and storming through your hallway and down the stairs towards the front door, ignoring the cold floor under your bare feet. You reached a hand for the lock before you stopped, finally realizing it was the middle of the night. Who would be knocking in the middle of the night?

“Y/N?” A familiar voice was heard through the door, your dog now staring intently where the door would open, her tail swishing back and forth. Hopper?

“Jim?” You frowned now, finally unlocking the door and swinging it open. The golden retriever quickly bolted to the tall man, tail wagging as she sniffed at his boots. Your frown quickly dissipated at the sight before you moved aside, letting Hopper into your home. “Why are you knocking? I gave you a key, silly.” You gave him a small smile, closing the door once your dog followed him in. 

“I-” Jim frowned, looking down at his keys in his hand before his regular tough facade went soft. “Yeah, you did.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyebrows furrowed. “Shit, I’m sorry-” 

“No, don’t.” You cut him off, reaching up to help him out of his coat. He took his hat, setting it on a hook by the front door you had hung specially for him. You hooked his heavy coat over your arm, brushing a few wrinkles out before looking up at him in the dimly lit entryway. You could see his eyebrows knit with stress. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Huh?” Jim snapped out of whatever thoughts he was stuck in, eyes tired. 

“I asked what’s wrong?” You frowned a bit now, reaching your free hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of his face. You cupped his jaw once his hair was out of his face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. 

Hopper’s eyes fell shut at the feeling, his shoulders sagging a bit as he leaned into your touch. “Do you ever feel like you’re cursed? Like you're destined to be the reason horrible shit happens all the time?” 

Your face softened at his words. It had obviously been a rough day at work for him. “Sometimes.” You answered truthfully, voice quiet. This caused Jim’s eyes to open and meet yours, his expression a bit curious. “But it’s not the...destined to be the reason sort of thing. It’s the..” You sighed, trying to think of the right words. You dropped your hand from his face, moving to the closet to hang his jacket. 

Jim trailed behind you, finally kicking his boots off near your door and making sure it was locked. The two of you started walking up the stairs, Peanut seeming to race the two of you to the master bedroom. 

“Maybe being there? When it happens? So it seems like you’re maybe the reason, but in reality, it’s some shitty version of ‘in the wrong place at the wrong time’ sort of thing.” You finished your thought, rubbing your eyes as you padded down the hall, Jim right behind you, his steps heavy in comparison to yours. 

He was silent as he mulled over your words. 

“Shitty things happen everyday, hun.” Your voice was empathetic. “Whether you’re there or not. But,” You turned towards him before entering your room, grabbing his larger hands in your own, “look at me.” 

Jim's eyes flickered up from your hands, his expression almost protective as he forced himself to meet your eyes. You hated seeing his pretty blues so sad. 

“It probably helped them that you were there. From start to finish.” 

“Y/N-” 

“No, I know what you're going to say.” You shook your head, squeezing his hands a bit tighter to get your point across. “You think everyone sees you as some lazy police chief. Most don’t. I don’t. That dad you helped find answers for today? He doesn’t.” 

Jim was still silent as you spoke, eyes still staring into your own before he looked down again. He let out a long sigh, chest almost deflating. “You heard.” 

You exhaled through your nose, giving him a sad, tight smile before you pulled him to you best you could. It didn’t help that he was so much taller than you when you tried to comfort him, but Hopper appreciated it nonetheless. Your actions alone were enough sometimes to remind him that he’s not as awful as he thinks he is, that the world wasn't as awful as he thinks it is. Because if you existed, it couldn’t all be bad, right? Maybe that was a little dramatic on his part but he didn’t care.

“It was on the news.. I didn’t want to bother you until you were ready.” 

The two of you stood in the dark hallway for a while, Jim’s face nuzzled into the top of your hair. You pretended not to notice the wet feeling on the top of your head, the raggedness of his breathing, how his arms tightened a bit more around you with each shaking breath. 

It wasn’t long before he pulled away with another sigh, hand coming up to wipe his face quickly. You watched him for a bit before leaning up on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his damp cheek. It was near his mouth you could smell the whiskey. You pushed aside the thoughts of him possibly drunk driving. If you had to be that close, it was probably a while ago, and he could hold is liquor. “Let’s get some sleep, yeah? It’s late.” 

“Yeah.” Was his mumbled response, the two of you finally entering your room. He had quickly stripped down to his boxers, clothes kicked off to the side, setting his utility belt on top of the empty bedside table as he normally did. You watched as he crawled into your bed once he kicked his socks off, his larger frame causing your blankets to pull more to his side. 

You picked up his clothes before your dog could snatch any of the articles of clothing as her new chew toy, setting them on top of your chester drawers for the time being. You patted Peanut on the butt, mumbled a quiet ‘good girl’ before crawling under the blankets next to Hopper, the man seeming to hesitate a second before he pulled you to him. You folded your arms to your chest as you were pulled flush against his chest, the both of you on your sides facing each other. You felt your dog jump onto your bed soon after, her tags jingling as she wedged herself in between the both of you best she could.

“Really?” Jim’s muttered tone was sour as she continued to wedge herself up as far as she could. You couldn’t help the giggle that left you before you pressed a kiss to his chest.

“You knew we were a package deal, Hop.”

“I know.” His voice was still bitter, his voice rumbling a bit in his chest. You laughed quietly again before you nuzzled closer to him, his arms tightening their hold on you once everyone- Peanut- was settled.

[bananonbinary]

my experience with autism is so weird.

like, obviously, i'm high functioning, right? i have a large vocabulary, i score wonderfully on any type of standardized test, i was diagnosed "gifted" as a child, i understand social cues and facial expressions pretty decently and can mask extremely well for the length of time a stranger will interact with me. by any definition, i'm high functioning.

but.

i'm not.

i can't make my own food. i can't go outside. my executive function is so bad i can't problem solve extremely basic things like "there's a box on the counter where i wanted to sit." i need people to remind me to eat, and help me figure out what to eat. i ask someone else to help me any time i start a new task, just to sit in the room and tell me what steps to take. 99% of my days see me sitting in a dark, quiet room on my computer, because going out into the common areas of the house is Too Much, let alone going outside and interacting with people outside my family. any time i get any new stimulus at all (which happens like..once every two weeks) i get so stressed out that I have a complete meltdown that is EXACTLY what you think a Stereotypical Autistic Person looks like. (as one shitty doctor put it, "oh but you're not like, rocking in the corner or banging your head on the wall in your own little world." joke's on you, asshole. i AM doing that when i'm not here.) i lose the ability to communicate when faced with strangers and new situations, and sometimes just for no reason at all. this is after 6 YEARS of effort to improve.

I cannot live alone. I cannot advocate for myself in most situations. I need a high level of support, and i honestly believe my family could make a case to take away my legal rights if they wanted (thank god, they don't). by any REASONABLE metric, i SHOULD be classed as low functioning.

but.

i'm not.

i see people classed as "intellectually disabled," and "low functioning," and i'm not like them, i know it's an unbelievable privilege to be able to articulate myself in a way other people understand and listen to. i won't insult my siblings by saying i go through what they go through.

but.

but but but.

i understand them. far more than i understand the 'High Functioning' crowd. the people with jobs, and education, and errands, and their own houses. when some jackass points to a caricature of an autistic person, and expect me to laugh because surely I'M not like that, no one who's NORMAL struggles with things like that, they don't know that i'm NOT normal. i'm not low functioning, but secretly, i'm not high functioning either.

i wish i had a pithy way to tie this together. i just wish i Fit somewhere.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Could you, instead of Bodyguard Sokkla AU, write Azula being famous, as she should, and Sokka being a huge overly smitten fanboy who gets to meet her irl by accident through Zuko? Zuko would obviously hide that he's related to someone famous to not attract attention on himself cause he can be somewhat socially awkward sometimes but what happens when his sister calls him one day while he's playing video games with his friends and without thinking too much he answers the phone and puts her on speaker so that his hand will be free to hold the controller and Sokka recognizes her voice?

This prompt has been sitting in my askbox for ages. Idk if you’re even still here xD but here it is. A quick little thing while I work on fandom events.

Katara thinks that it is embarrassing that he has so many posters of the girl. That one of them is even autographed. That he has a closet full of concert T-shirts and fanmade ones alike. That he has every single CD that Azula has ever appeared on. 

She doesn’t quite understand idol culture and frankly he finds himself rather embarrassed by it too. 

He would never let Jet or Zuko see all of this. Toph has already given him a hard time for being, as she so delicately put it, a total fanboy dweeb. But he certainly isn’t the worst out there. He can pridefully say that he doesn’t own a body pillow.

But he talks about her all the time. He’d like to meet her more than anything. He wonders if she is just as pretty in person. Prettier perhaps? She has such a nice smile and her voice is…

It’s divine. He has never heard anything like it; gentle and powerful all at once. 

It is a volcanic eruption and a quiet sunset breeze all at once. 

Sokka sighs, he almost puts one of the CD’s in the radio but he ultimately decides that doing so might ruin tonight’s livestream; pop music doesn’t exactly scream ‘epic fantasy-action background music’. Unless of course he and his gaming group are bold enough. He can’t imagine that they would be so brave. Not when Toph takes this whole livestreaming thing so seriously. 

Sokka puts on his headset and joins Zuko in the server. “Hey, Sokka.” The boy greets.

“How’s it going, buddy?”

Zuko exhales deeply. “I’m expecting a phone call tonight so we decided to postpone the livestream. Also, Toph can’t make it tonight, she’s got a headcold or something. So it’ll just be you, Jet, and I tonight.” 

“I think that we could use a stress free night of just gaming for the sake of gaming.” Just like in the old days, before they decided to start gaming for some extra cash. Not that Toph needs any. 

“What game are we playing tonight, boys?” Jet’s face appears on the screen. 

“Well Toph wanted to play ‘Night of Claw and Fire’. But I thought that we could play that one with the race cars that we used to love.” Zuko replies.

“Are we going to play the one with the shitty graphics? Or the new one.”

“Shitty graphics.” Sokka and Zuko say at once. Nothing like some classic, old school, boxy graphics. It has been so long since he has had a chance to glitch his character into oblivion. 

.oOo.

He knows that the game is all in good fun but Sokka can’t help but be at least a little frustrated at his losing streak. He hasn’t even been able to beat any of the NPC racers. They have been lapping him for the better part of the night while Zuko and Jet cackle. 

He wishes that Toph were here. 

Toph usually protects him from getting tag teamed. 

He puffs out another sigh and tightens his grip on his controller. He stares at its sleek, metallic navy blue finish. “Come on” he mumbles to the thing, “just give me one win.” 

He revs his virtual engine. 

3…

2…

1…

Zuko’s phone rings and the game pauses just as Sokka’s character blasts off. “Oh come on, bro!” Sokka shouts. 

Zuko rolls his eyes and unpauses the game. Sokka’s race car slams directly into the barricade and Jet cackles as Zuko hits the speaker button. “Hello?” 

“Hello, Zuzu.” 

Jet too slams his virtual car into the barricade and snorts. “Zuzu?” 

Zuko’s face flushes. “I shouldn’t have put you on speaker.”

“You have me on speaker?”

“I’m in the middle of gaming!” He declares. “I’m in first place by the way.” 

“There’s a first time for everything.” The girl chuckles. 

And that is when Sokka’s heart skips. He knows that laugh. He has always found it to be so charming. “Zuko…” he swallows. “Is that…?”

“My sister? Yeah.” Zuko fills in.

“Azula is your sister!? And you didn’t tell me?”

“My sister isn’t…”

“Yes I am.” Azula cuts in. “I’m exactly who you think I am.”

And Zuko is blushing again. Sokka can’t begin to fathom why. Not until he grumbles a, “I’ve been trying to be lowkey about this. I don’t want attention.” 

“I do.” Azula declares. 

“Why do you do this to me? And what are you actually calling for?”

“Well, mother said to tell you that she found some of your old baby pictures. Like the one where you…” 

“Azula!” He shouts, his face now a vivid scarlet.”

“The one where you decided to use your underwear as a hat.”

“Dude, you used your underpants as a hat?” Jet chuckles. 

“No! She’s just trying to make me sound like a dweeb.”

“It’s working.” Jet cackles. 

To Zuko’s credit he is still in first place. “Alright, Azula, we’ll talk later tonight.” His finger hovers over the end call button.

“No!” She and Sokka say at once. 

“I want to talk to your sister!” Sokka requests. “You know how much I love her…music!” Oh, he’s such an idiot–just bursting out declarations of love. “I love her music.” He repeats. 

“It’s alright, you can confess your love.” Azula drawls. “Most people do.”

Zuko groans. “She likes attention. Stop giving her attention.” 

But it is much too late for that. He has already plunged right into a very stuttering, “c-can we hang o-out sometime. I mean if you want to. I wouldn’t force you to do that because I’m…I’m not one of those weirdos but I thought that it could be nice maybe…”

“I suppose that we can.” Azula pauses. He can hear in her voice that her face has lit up. “Oh! I can show you Zuzu’s baby photos! There’s this one where he’s trying to eat his own foot.”

“Alright that’s it! Conversation over!” Zuko strikes ‘end call’. 

And with the strike of a button his hopes and dreams deflate. But hours later, with the sounds of video game victory music echoing in his ears, he gets a text. It better not be Zuko because he is ready to give the boy an earful…over text.

He looks at the screen. ‘Tomorrow. 5:00. Jasmine Dragon.’ The phone dings again and a picture of a very chubby baby Zuko stares up at him, peeking out from under a pair of underwear.

Sokka grins. ‘How did you get my number?’ He texts back.

‘That’s for me to know and you to wonder about.’ She adds a little wink. 

‘Okay, tomorrow at 5.’ He clutches his phone to his chest. He is actually going to meet his idol in person. He just hopes that she will like him as much as he likes her. Maybe he should take some of the posters down so that he doesn’t seem creepy…

He takes a deep breath. They’re just meeting at the Jasmine Dragon. And, realistically, Zuko will probably be tagging along. He will cross that bridge when he comes to it. Until then he will relish in that he is actually going to meet his idol face to face!

[oc-aita]

AITA for "choosing" someone I "only knew for 3 stupid fucking months" over a friendship of 9 years?

I try for this not to bother me much since there's nothing I can do to fix the situation, but sometimes I start to think and... well. This happened years ago, too. But you know. Be warned this sounds like a bad gay dramatic book with sex in the mix, but it is entirely true. The three people involved on this are F (27M), C (23M), and of course, me (26M). TL;DR at the end because this thing got long.

First, I need to give context of the type of relationship F and I had. We were friends since I was 14 and he was 15 respectively, at that age I wasn't a friendly person at all, and after I lost my virginity at 17 (with him, important detail) it was extremely difficult to be friendly towards a guy if my intention wasn't to have sex with him, terribly shitty on my part, but we're not getting onto that. Our friendship was the most important thing for me (as I told him a few times, he was my favorite person, and I 100% meant it), we were extremely close, and it was entirely platonic (kinda? if we ignore the "slip" we had at 17 and 18) until we had sex again (20 and 21 respectively) and there we started a friendship-with-benefits thing.

Our "fwb" deal started right after F broke up with his "boyfriend", M (18 at the time). M was roommates with C (17 at the time), so we technically know each other from that time. I was there mostly making small talk and maybe going outside while F and M were pretty obviously fucking, but he was feeling pretty awkward, and like, I get it. Your roommate is getting laid while you're stuck with a sort-of-acquaintance forcefully being friendly. Also, it was awfully obvious C started to resent F a bit. It wasn't the best thing ever, but after F and M broke up, I didn't saw him again for a few years.

Until I was 24! It was pretty normal for us to go to parties, it was fun and that's how I got most of my one-night stands (because if you think having sex with F was enough, no it wasn't). For some reason, that night C was on the same party F and I were. I recognized him right off the bat, and F did too. He was looking... really lonely, and I guess it triggered a kind emotion on me, because the only thing I wanted was to keep him company. F tried to approach him, as there wasn't any resentment on his part (yet), but I told him it might not be the best idea, but I was going on his place.

Long story short, we spent the whole night together, he obviously needed someone to vent, and I was there. After the party ended, I gave him my number, just in case he still needed to vent. Pretty uncharacteristic of me, sincerely. He messaged me again a few days later, with time we kept talking about our lives and shit, and I actually fell in love for the first time in my life three months later! Exciting stuff.

Except apparently I started to "make F feel unimportant" and "won't stop annoying the fuck out of him talking about C" and "I even moaned his stupid name on accident when we were having sex" (all his words!) and, despite my efforts, F and C never got along, now mostly on F's part (in fact, things got worse), which was really stressing.

Everything reached a limit when I told him we couldn't have sex anymore, because I was officially dating C and it was a closed thing, so we should stay platonic again. And he threw a big ass tantrum, saying I was replacing "someone I knew for 9 YEARS over someone I only knew for 3 stupid fucking months", and that "if I was lying to him the whole time I told him he was my favorite person and he was actually that replaceable for me, then I was way more horrible than he thought and that I should stop talking to him altogether". And I did. Not because I didn't loved him (this time truly platonically, we never had romantic feelings for each other), but because I got hurt by the fact he couldn't understand how much this meant to me. It was the first time I felt the so-called romantic love, it was all new, maybe I didn't managed it the best way, but. Come on.

TL;DR: My friend with benefits I knew for 9 years and was my favorite person got angry I "replaced" him for someone I fell in love with, which I knew for 3 months, and ended our friendship as soon as I started to actually date the guy I love.

[cosmic-collective-arc]

i need to dump my merlin thoughts somewhere bc my thoughts are ZOOMING - MERLIN METAPHOR FOR SYSTEM

so lots of people talk abt merlin being a metaphor for being queer and i also mainly see it that way but I also relate to it heavily with being a system. Using special interests help me massively to be able to understand my own thoughts and feelings after years of masking and also having a dissociative idenity disorder which both evaporated my sense of self. This is not in anyway me saying this is the ‘correct’ metaphor i am just relating the show to my experience and how i interpret it :D

(this is kinda venty and also spoilers for merlin)

The main thing is the lying obviously

merlin throughout the show CONSTANTLY had to lie, always to protect himself or others, even to people who know about his magic and people who are magical (e.g. morgana)

I also find us collectively lying constantly, first off, obviously to singlets who have no idea we are a system and would likely not deal with the information well, it’s simply not safe for us to tell every person we meet we’re a system. Having to lie every time you front about who you are is absolutely horrible especially when you have to mask neurodivergence, anger and stress among other things, it’s fucking exhausting and many people who front frequently have to take month long breaks to try and build their sense of self back up and to recover, so much so we try not to let ppl front more than twice a week.

Then with people we know it’s so much more difficult, sometimes members don’t want to tell people they’ve switched (for a variety of reasons from not wanting to be related to their source/seen as their source to getting upset and not wanting people to know there’s been a switch) and then they lie about who they are and have to act like that person to maintain the lie, which is so much more difficult that just our “generic personality”.

And other times where something rly shitty has happened innerworld but you can’t tell anyone bc that would be a breach of an alter’s privacy. Sometimes even within system you can’t talk to anybody about it because you don’t want to spread gossip and cause problems.

Other times where members are so scared of feeling vulnerable they hide under layers of humour and confidence and all that other shit and you can only watch, because it would blow up in your face if you did anything else.

Being so overjoyed over acceptance and meeting somebody the same as you and being disappointed

an example i want to talk about is gaius. Gaius was always rly strange abt merlin’s magic, he was like u should hide ur magic bc u must protect ur life blah blah and then was like nvm use ur magic bc we will die otherwise. He shyed away from the topic of magic often and didn’t rly discuss it unless merlin brought it up or it was important to the situation. And imo it was talked abt quite a lot when gaius first discovered merlin’s magic, but merlin stopped telling him about his magic more and more, thus, merlins magic was discussed less and less.

I feel like a similar thing has happened with us as a system. People who know about us being a system don’t rly talk about it unless we bring it up specifically. We make it easy to find out who is fronting, however it’s rare for us to be called by our own name. Even rarer to have our own prns used for us. And yes, I can rationalise to a point that this is due to people talking to us, therefore typically not having to use our name or pronouns, however when i say rarely i mean extremely rarely, as in we can remember only one instance where someone used alter specific pronouns for us (and that was a while ago). As in, we can only remember an alters name being used a handful of times in the last year. (In fairness our memory is shit but it’s not that shit, bc using correct shit is like a monumental event). But when we first came out as a system, people didn’t shy away from the topic, alter names were used regularly, people made sure to check who was fronting. Hell, one person even shook our hand everyday and would try and guess who was fronting and actually got kinda good at it at some point which was validating asf (and they had made sure to check we were ok with it). But that all stopped and we never understood why, we have even questioned about whether an alter had said something to get them all to stop, but it was gradual so it couldn’t have been that. All in all it gave us a feeling of not being truly seen as a system.

Another example is when arthur found out about merlin’s magic. Merlin had to justify his existence and explain to arthur why he wasn’t evil.

I related this to how lots of pieces of media demonises systems and many systems having to justify that they aren’t, in fact, going to murder anyone or commit some other serious crime.

however, relating it to a more personal experience, we were talking to this new person, let’s call them D. D had casually brought up systems in conversation and the person who was fronting at the time got extremely excited and was asking if they were a system etc etc. Turns out they weren’t a system but their partner was a system. D started talking to us about system stuff and it was quite nice, we were having a great conversation about non human alters and etc. However, D started talking about their partner and was explaining how members in their partner’s sys could be violent and they had had to defend themself at times. Now yes, some systems can have outwardly violent parts but it’s pretty rare, this study shows that DID systems are not that prone to crime . And D kept talking to us about all the things this system had done and we felt the need to explain that no we weren’t outwardly violent, and no we hadn’t attacked anybody and so on.

and then we have kilgharrah, i hate kilgharrah sm. The great dragon was the first magical being merlin had a proper conversation with, and not getting into the whole conversation about how kilgharrah manipulated merlin, because thats not what i’m trying to talk about rn. Merlin went to kilgharrah for advice whenever he faced a problem, which was often, and kilgharrah would give him advice but normally the advice didn’t rly make sense bc merlin didn’t know the future and didn’t have a huge understanding of magic.

We were in a situation where we already knew a system when we had discovered we were a system, and obviously we sought advice from them. And they gave us advice, however as our systems work differently in quite a lot of aspects, a lot of the things that worked for them, had the opposite effect for us. Such as, they switch multiple times a day to not switching for weeks. However, for us having the same person in front for extended periods of time causes disastrous effects for our system. We need to switch pretty frequently or our mental health goes down the gutter and too many switches gives us debilitating headaches. And in their innerworld they use a monetary system, whereas we have completely refused to implement that. Now they didn’t do this on purpose (unlike kilgharrah that ASSHOLE-) but it still caused a lot of problems for a long time until we figured out what we needed.

Feeling seperated

Merlin, imo, also seemed to feel seperated from everyone else due to his magic and probably experienced imposter syndrome. His magic was something to shy away from, something not to be talked about, something to hide, but it’s part of him and it’s not going to go away. He didn’t feel as though he could talk about it to anyone, even people who knew, not gaius, not kilgharrah. He talked about it to lancelot yeah but lancelot didn’t have magic, it wasn’t the same and lancelot didn’t exactly stick around for long.

At times, i feel the only people i can talk about being a system to is my own sysmates, singlets haven’t experienced it, they don’t know what it’s actually like. And the imposter syndrome we experience as a system is horrible, the fact i am literally not who i say i am, i’m a complete and utter liar 90% of the time. Sometimes i feel that i experience life so differently from singlets that it’s difficult to even make conversation, i’m hyper aware of every little thing I am experiencing that singlets don’t. Singlets don’t get surprised when they catch their reflection in the mirror, singlets don’t have times where they are hyper aware about how their body is wrong, singlets don’t forget what their name is and therefore miss their name on the register, singlets don’t have to keep somebody else’s routine because otherwise everything feels off, singlets don’t have alters who have to talk them down from panic attacks, singlets don’t have alters who will point out something stupid or funny a teacher does during a dull class, singlets don’t have to hide their smile when an alter makes a joke but it’s not appropriate to randomly smile.

Extremely mixed emotions

Merlin at times hated his magic, he hated having to hide it, he hated how difficult it made his life, his magic made him suffer so much. But he also cherished it, he didn’t know what he would be without his magic, his magic was a part of him, his magic made him happy. Merlin wouldn’t be alive without his magic.

I could basically just switch out magic for system. At times we hated being a system, we hated having to hide it, we hated how difficult it made our life, how much being a system made us suffer. Being a system can be an extremely difficult situation and really shitty at times.

But it also has good things. We also cherish being a system, we don’t know what we would be if we weren’t a system, being a system is part of us, being a system can make us happy. We wouldn’t be alive if we weren’t a system.

Yes, being a system is difficult and horrible and shitty and we wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but it is also what made us survive. We can give eachother comfort and reassurance when we don’t feel able to reach out to others, we can make eachother smile and laugh and feel better about the world. We can be our own support system when me had none.

[winderlylandchime]

The man is back and better than ever (well kinda but whatever). So here I come with 2x08 and 2x09 but tumblr sucks so this is 1/2, anyway. He got into the house took his pills, immediately went out on a smoke and screamed to me ‘he was right! Who the fuck made that rule about smoking in hospitals?!’ Came back and said ‘cmon loser!’ He silently groaned for 5 minutes until the locker room scene and yelled ‘BRIAN YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARD, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU!’ He is now watching Mikey and Ben and goes ‘*loud groan* for the love of Beyoncé, please tell me this dude isn’t THIS boring the whole time? If his whole thing is Buddha and HIV, i am gonna hate it here’ cut to the club scene ‘JUSTIN YOU BEAUTIFUL RASCAL! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! of course my boy can spot a rolex the second he sees it! Attaboy!’…’OH BEN IN A CLUB? Maybe he isn’t boring! *ben takes his shirt off* what a whore, i like it *raises his soda as a cheers*’ and now the introduction scene happened and he almost had a stroke ‘Well of course he’s positive, he studied Buddha and all that crap. And you just complimented him so obviously he’s happy, why are you so bitc- *pauses the ep and is silent for a sec* YOU MOTHERFUCKER YOU MEAN POSITIVE AS IN HIV?! HOW DOES THAT AFFECT ANYTHING YOU FUCKI- AND WHY IS THAT ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS TO TALK YOU LITTLE DWEEB!…*looks at the paused tv*…Justin looks really good in that jersey’ ‘okay Mel is funny sometimes..but dude we don’t throw food on the ground..damn it, i like her at times but she’s so bitchy sometimes but the feminist in me is saying she has the right for it but like she’s just so *blows a raspberry* at times’ and we are now at the diner scene and he is STRESSED! This man is ready to fight ‘Ted..dude, shush. I get it, the year is 2001..2?3? Wait is this before the towers? Whatever, the year is early and you are scared but listen to me *snaps his fingers at paused ted on screen* i am from the future and we are alright! I mean most of us..some of us…okay so like a group of us are good..you know what? The world sucks but like we’re dealing with it, there’s always a tomorrow, now calm the fuck down bc you are stressing me out…plus doesn’t vic have hiv? Someone call Deb to smack ted bc i am only one man’ And now Deb is up and im not prepared for whats going to happen, it’s like witnessing a train crash ‘exactly Deb! Tell him he has a shitty attitude, smack him for me please. tell them Deb! why does she look like she just ate dog shit? Well i mean it is a lot to hear since its like 200early’ oh sweet summer child. I will say he was pleasantly surprised that Brian was silent and not assholey. ‘Who the fuck has clowns in their home? Deb this is weird even for you. Why can’t she talk to Vic? *pauses the ep* vic my boy, I’ll talk to you. These bitches *holds up the dvd with the cast on it* have me stressed out of my fucking mind. Anyway continue, man’ i would like everyone to know at this point i am holding my breath preparing for the crash.

WELCOME BACK DEAR SWEET ANON AND BROTHER ANON! You’ve been missed.

Literally loling from the start about Brian being right about smoking and hospitals. (Someone should tell Brian and your brother about oxygen tanks)

I love how he sees how BORING Ben is but definitely is protective of Ted’s shitty moment of disclosing his serostatus and warning Michael off of him. And then the total letdown with “Doesn’t Vic have HIV?” and “who the fuck has clowns in their home?” OUR MAN HAS A VERY GOOD POINT.

And yes… the crash. Let’s get to that…

[crisispider]

/stumbles in here/ SHIP MEME??? YES PLS GIMME SOME PETER B X LYLA SHIP MEME THOUGHTS PLS

My thoughts on ANY SHIP - Accepting - @xenjoyedthat

Who’s the cuddler? I would say definitely Peter but he is slowly just Stockholm syndroming her into loving to cuddle too. Who makes the bed? I can't really imagine either one of them do? I mean like obviously Peter never does it because I mean look at him, and like I might be wrong about this but I just feel like because she is a workaholic, and doesn't really sleep much anyways why make it? Who wakes up first? I feel like it's almost always Lyla, she just RADIATES someone who never sleeps enough, and Peter is just old enough that sometimes if the right conditions are met a nap could actually turn into a full on sleep. (We are talking like the lighting dimmed just right, the exact right star trek movie on loop at the right volume, the right amount of room temp, BONUS if he has a lyla to snuggle. ) Who has the weird taste in music? See the thing is I don't think either one of them would ever think each other's taste in music is weird? They are very chill vibing babies, and they love to dance? It's like their whole thing. So honestly, I think they are always just so excited to show one another any new music they might have found. Who is more protective? Oooooooooohhh Seeeeee that's HARD. I feel that honestly it might be a close race either way? And honestly? I feel like it might honestly depend on what the situation is and what's going on in their lives. Like if It's been a really rough week for Peter and just he can't take anymore SHITTY, It's Lyla who is just SHUTTING IT DOWN, and making sure people leave him alone so he can get a break. Then just in the same step.. say if it's just like close to the anniversary of the loss of gabriella or any other really bad time for Lyla he would be the one to make sure that literally NO ONE is bugging her more that necessary. Who sings in the shower? I feel like it's definitely a joint concert sort of situation. The two of them are just always dancing and singing and having a good time, it only makes sense that they would take it into the shower too??? Who cries during movies? It's Peeeeeter, he is a big old softie and I feel like it would be one of Lyla's favorite things you know? Because just 'aww look at him so emotional about a kids movie that he is watching with his daughter' like how is that not the most ridiculous thing she has ever seen? Like i'm talking full on sobbing at the Lion King like he doesn't know what happens. Who spends the most while out shopping? Lylllllaaaa, she is the fashion icon of the two of them, and honestly his favorite thing is to just let her dress him. It takes away the stress of having to try and look decent and it makes her happy, what isn't to love? Who kisses more roughly? Peter, he is just always such a DESPERATE sort of boy sometimes it's just really hard to not want to put his entire soul into every kiss because he is ALL TOO AWARE the the closer they get to solving the multiverse crisis.. the sooner they might have to say goodbye for good since they aren't from the same universe. (Peter forever a little afraid that Miguel is going to shut down the society once the crisis is over? More likely than you think.) Who is more dominant? Lyla. It's just... Lyla ALL THE WAY. My rating of the ship from 1-10. 1000/10

[no-good-username]

A little I Am Not Okay With This rant for the soul :)

I really hate how some people I see online treat Syd like she’s the scum of the earth for what happened with her and Stan's relationship because I highly doubt they have ever experienced what's it's like being a scared, queer teenager. Especially as a teenage girl.

Yes, Syd led Stan on, and yes, it really was a shitty thing to do. But I feel like so many people are missing the big picture. We all know that her finding out that she has powers (especially powers that she can't control) is really stressful for her. But on top of that, she's realizing that not only she's a lesbian, but that she has a crush on her best friend, who is at the time of it happening, VERY taken.

When I found out I was bi, I personally wasn't super affected by it. But that isn't the same for everyone, some kids are absolutely scared shitless when they find out and they feel fucking horrible. There's sometimes a lot of guilt and anger when you find out that you might not be as cishet as you were raised to be. And it doesn't always stick you in perfect situations, like when you're in a relationship with someone of a gender that you're not attracted to.

Syd is also, very obviously, kind of awkward when it comes to social interaction. She's visibly uncomfortable at the party, and it's been mentioned that Dina is the only best friend Syd has ever had. So there isn't exactly a high chance of her being able to know what to do in this type of situation, especially with all the other crazy shit going on in her life.

Another thing is that it's very clear that Dina's friendship is very important to Syd, and as someone who has fallen for their close friends before, you will do anything to keep that friendship in tact. And a for a lot of people that means pushing the romantic feelings down as much as possible. But sometimes things are just out of our control, enter the kiss. You can see in Syd's eyes that she was starting to panic when she realized what she had just done. And then (remember this is before the dance) Dina essentially rejects Syd and tries to brush it off as them just being drunk. Drunk friends. Just friends.

That is a sentence that, from experience, can hurt so much when you have a crush on someone that you're close with. And, naturally, Syd breaks down. She lost control of herself and now has probably lost the most important person in her life. And that person is Dina. And then we get the whole thing with the trees and Stan finding out and blah blah blah.

Moral of my essay/rant/whatever, I fucking hate people who dislike Syd and then use Stan as their excuse. Not because I personally really like Syd, but because they clearly missed everything she has been going through in the whole show and then go on to treat Stan like he has done no wrong (I love Stan he's an great character but the bowling alley scene was really fucked up, don't use other's trauma like that guys, no matter how much you think it will benefit them.) Stan isn't an excuse to hate on another character who is clearly in need of a lot of help. You just didn't watch the fucking show.

(Also, I can see that it sounds like I'm putting Syd on some sort of pedestal, I'm not. There's no perfect characters, just like there's no perfect people. It just really pisses me off when people use uncontrollable flaws as a reason to talk shit about a person.)