#something something the space youre in when you consume a media changes how you read and feel the media something something

[sickly-sapphic]

Decided to migrate my insta posts over to tumblr as well!! 🪻🌻 (I also have an intersex-focused discord server welcome to all - dm for link)

[ID:

Purple and yellow heart illusion background for all slides. Reads: Unpacking Your Intersexism

Step One: How You Imagine Intersex People

When you think of an intersex person, or an intersex body, what do you envision? Is it an assumption of their characteristics and anatomy? Does it group ALL intersex people into one tiny box?

Intersex people come in a variety of shapes, colours and genders. Some may look exactly like a woman or man, some may function one way but look the other, some are a mixed bowl. Stop creating a poster child for what an intersex person looks like!!

Step Two: How You Use Intersex People

Have you ever heard yourself say something like "intersex people are proof of nonbinary/trans peoples existance!" or "kids never get surgery/hormones!" or used the existance of intersex people to fight/disprove or otherwise argue with transphobes? Stop!

Intersex people are more then just a shield for your arguements. Intersex people are not "proof" that trans or nonbinary people exist, trans and nonbinary people are the proof they exist!! Not only are you failing to acknowledge intersex people as people, youre doing a disservice to trans and nonbinary people!!

Alongside this, medical abuse is a common trauma in the intersex community. Many people are forcibly sterilised, have surgeries performed on them as newborns, and are covertly given medications or hormones to "fix" their intersex characterstics as children and even into adulthood.

Step Three: How You Relate To Intersex People

Ever hear someone say something along the lines of "well I'm Technically intersex now that I've taken HRT", "intersex people are biologically nonbinary", "I want to transition into intersex" or "this animal with mixed/changing characterstics is trans!" ? These are common misconceptions.

Taking HRT does not make you "biologically intersex", it makes you someone taking HRT, in the same way that taking birth control doesn't mean you're now infertile. In the same way, you cannot transition into an intersex person. You may have ambiguous, androgynous or mixed transition goals - and that's completely fine! But intersex is not the term you're looking for (try altersex!)

Intersex people and animals are not "technically" or "biologically" nonbinary or transgender, they're intersex. While some intersex people may identify with the term nonbinary, or even consider themselves a cis nonbinary person, not every single intersex person is nonbinary, nor does every single way being intersex presents itself look like what you're percieving as a "biologically nonbinary" body.

Step Four: How You Treat Intersex People

Think to yourself - are you asking invasive questions (such as their variation or anatomy)? Are you including intersex people in your queer activism or art? Are you consuming intersexist media, or media that fetishises intersex bodies?

Intersex people NEVER owe you any information on their condition. You are not owed their anatomical features, their intersex variations, their hormone levels or their chromosomes. You should not be asking if they're infertile, whether they can have sex, or any other invasive question.

While not ALL intersex people identify with the queer community, many do. If you create queer art, merchandise or anything else created with queer symbols and flags - are you including intersex people? If not, why? Do you acknowledge how bills will affect intersex people, or do you call them collateral damage? Are you lifting up intersex voices, or pushing them out of queer spaces?

Step Five: (Mis)Using Intersexist Terminology

Do you use h*rmaphrodite to refer to intersex people? Do you identify with TME/TMA, or force it on others? Do you use AMAB or AFAB as a catchall to mean "people with a perisex, non-transitioned male body" and "people with a perisex, non-transitioned female body"?

Firstly, h*rmaphrodite is a slur used against intersex people All The Time. Some intersex people may self-identify with it, but it is Not what you should be calling intersex people, nor should other intersex people use it on those who don't identify with it.

TME and TMA, or transmisogyny exempt and transmisogyny affected, completely fail to acknowledge the existance of intersex people. The terms are meant to refer to "AMAB" nonbinary and transfeminine people (TMA), vs. "AFAB" nonbinary, transmasculine people, and cis people (TME). However, many intersex people may experience transmisogyny due to how they appear, such as intersex men with typically feminine characterstics or intersex women with typically masculine characterstics. Transmen, nonbinary people of all shapes, people of colour and gender non-conforming people may ALSO experience what some may call "misdirected transmisogyny" due to how they present, but that's a whole other story."

AMAB (assigned male at birth) and AFAB (assigned female at birth) are not catch-alls for typically male or typically female experiences. Some people who are AMAB have typically female anatomy, hormones or life experiences, some are going to need "female" healthcare. Some people who are AFAB have typically male anatomy, hormones or life experiences, some are going to need "male" healthcare. AMAB does not mean "person with a penis", AFAB does not mean "person with a vagina" nor does it mean "person with tits" or "person with a period/capable of pregnancy". When you are making your info post or your sex ed posts, use specific language. It's not AMAB, it's "people with testes", "people with erections". It's not AFAB, it's "people with ovaries", "people with periods", "people with tits" (I cannot stress enough how much AMAB people can have tits).

End ID]

[dragqueenpentheus]

the vibe of waking up at six am to go sit in a leather recliner and watch midnight mass for hours while on an iv drip was something truly immaculate

[sinner-as-saint]

I'm insane, but I'm your baby

Dark!Bucky x Reader (age gap au) 

Run-through: You broke things off with Bucky shortly after you realised that he was quickly becoming overly emotionally reliant on you. And you were not ready for that kind of commitment. Besides, when you and Bucky first got together, the rule was no emotional bond at all. It was all just transactional, exciting, and fun. But then he changed. And you didn’t realise just how much you meant to him… until he showed you. 

Themes: ex-sugarbaby!bucky, dark!bucky, obsessive!bucky, sugarmommy!reader, mild MDLB (nicknames only), possessive!bucky, switch!bucky, smut, brief somno, bondage, praise kink, reader gets referred to as “mommy” a lot, dub con, manipulation, age gap (Bucky is in his twenties, Reader is in her late thirties), gun play, mentions of stalking and violence

a/n: warning – dark fic, pls read the themes carefully and do not consume media that makes you uncomfortable.

You knew he was already in your house the moment you walked in. 

Firstly because that was his car outside, parked near the driveway fountain. Secondly, because he’d been doing this for a whole week now. Ever since the two of you broke up, he’d show up at your house whenever he wanted. 

He still had copies of the keys you’d given him. And he acted like a brat each time you asked for the keys back. What if I left something and I desperately needed it? He’d argue. You were a busy woman, head of and handling family businesses and some of your new ones as well so you rarely had enough time to argue over keys with a young man who refused to act his age. 

Part of his bratty behaviour was your fault, you knew that. He was already spoiled when you met him – typical rich boy who rebelled against his rich parents whenever he wanted. But then when he met you, he became a total brat. You spoiled him even more than his family did – cars, trips, jewellery, a penthouse in whatever city he wanted, everything he’d asked for, you gave it to him. 

In return, he was at your beck and call. He often joked about how you trained him like a loyal puppy. You laughed, because it was true. Whenever you called, he came running to you. 

Your ‘relationship’ was perfect in the beginning. It was fun, and an amazing way for you to unwind and get away from the hectic work life. But then, Bucky got clingy. Emotionally clingy. And you tried to talk to him about it, but he would just act up and refuse to listen. Or, most of the time he’d just distract you with his amazing body. 

So you went with the flow for a couple of more months, before about a week ago you sat him down and broke things off. Of course it wasn’t easy. Bucky was especially bratty about it and was having none of it. But eventually stormed out of your house. 

He was back the very next day, begging and pleading for you to take him back. You asked him to leave. Then he was back the following day, same old story. Then the day after that, he’d let himself into your house while you were still at home. You’d asked him to leave. 

And he’d been repeating this bullshit for a whole week now. You were tired. Your days at work weren’t particularly easy. You had a huge staff to manage, meetings to attend, everything rested on your shoulders. All you wanted was some quiet time when you got home but no. A certain blue eyed young man, previously your sugarbaby, wouldn’t leave you alone. 

You sighed as you walked further into your house. Dropping your keys and shoes in the foyer as you walked towards the kitchen. And there he was. 

Wearing nothing but dark grey sweatpants. Smooth, tatted skin exposed. With his bare, muscular back to you, cooking something like he was completely at home in your space. Well, he did live here with you for the last few months. 

You watched him for a moment as he moved with ease in your kitchen. Fuck, why did he have to be so irresistible? Especially in this kitchen, where you’d fucked countless of times… 

“What are you doing?” You asked, once you were done eye-fucking him. 

Bucky turned to look at you with a sly grin on his face. He lowered the flame, wiped his hands on a nearby tea towel and made his way over to you. 

You couldn’t even push him away as he held you in his muscular arms. You could feel the dampness on his skin, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Surely he even used your gym as well. 

He nuzzled your cheek, “Hi mommy,” He whispered, “How was your day?” He kissed along your cheek, then down your neck. So slowly you felt yourself slipping under his spell again. 

But then you recovered and carefully stepped out of his embrace. Ignoring the hurt on his pretty face at you pulling away, you asked again, “What are you doing, Bucky?” 

“Making you dinner.” He answered, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist again, “Your favourite pasta.” He smiled down at you, then leaned in to kiss your nose. “Want some wine while you wait for it to be done?” 

You sighed, pulling away again. “Bucky, I don’t like having to kick you out all the time.” You stated, looking him right in those puppy dog, ocean blue eyes. “But enough is enough. Give me my keys and please,” You tried not to sound too harsh, “Please leave. You and I, we’re done. I can’t… I can’t give you what you want, and we agreed on that. So please, leave.” 

He was quiet. So were you. It was tense, heavy, emotional silence. You were tired of always breaking his heart like this. Why couldn’t he just understand? 

“But I thought…” He crossed his arms, his muscles looking even bigger this way. “Did you never love, or care about me?” His tone suddenly softened. 

You sighed for probably the tenth time. “Bucky, this again?” 

He gave you the innocent, puppy dog eyes again. “I just… I thought we had something, mommy.” He whispered, sounding like a lost puppy, “Didn’t we?” He inched closer, his body heat wrapping around you. “Didn’t we, mommy?” He whispered into your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t you remember how good we were together?” 

You almost gave in again… almost. “Get out.” You said. 

He pulled away, surprised and frowning at the coldness in your calm tone. “Wha… what?” 

You almost felt bad. “You heard me. Get out.” You repeated. “Don’t make me call security.” 

He reluctantly left. 

You heard the purring of his car engine gradually fade, and the alarms signalled that the gates were shut again. 

You went to the stove and turned it off, the food already ruined. You cursed under your breath because you knew this wasn’t the last time. Bucky could be adamant when he wanted something. 

Or someone. 

— 

Much to your surprise, he didn’t show up the next day. Or the day after that. And just when you thought he was finally out of your life… you dreamt of him one day. Even in your dreams he was not ready to let you be. 

You dreamt of him in your room, in your bed. His soft hair brushing against your face as he kissed all over your jaw and neck… nibbling on your skin. 

He chuckled when you let out a sigh of pleasure. “I know, mommy.” He kissed along your exposed neck. “I know you didn’t mean it when you said we were done the other day,” He whispered, brushing his lips against yours, “See? Even in your sleep your body still wants me.” He sounded pleased. Mischievous. 

“So beautiful… and all mine.” You felt his phantom hands brushing against your thighs… like he always did whenever he woke up in the same bed as you. 

He always took full advantage of the fact that you slept in the nude. And you lived for those moments, those slow mornings filled with endless kisses and caresses and cuddles, and him being brat and not wanting you to leave the bed, or him. You dreamt of his lips kissing down your neck, down your chest, down your torso… 

He chuckled again, his boyish laughter echoing in your head. “You’re all wet for me, mommy.” He noted. He was right. You could feel it. Dreams always heightened every sense so you were fully aware of the wetness in between your thighs. 

He kissed your hips, whispering, “Your baby boy is hungry, mommy…” He kissed right above your clit, warm breath making your body come alive even in dreams. He always had a talent of making your body sing whenever he touched you. 

Then his warm tongue licked along your slit, his hands spreading your things apart to give him better access. Your hand moved lazily, fingers ready to slide into his hair… even in your dreamy fantasies you assumed his hair would be silky soft… but you couldn’t quite move your arm. 

That was the equivalent of warning bells ringing. You opened your eyes, no longer dreaming, and gasped in surprise as you not only found Bucky in between your legs but your hands were tied to the headboard. With one of his expensive ties. 

“Bucky…” His name sounded more like a soft moan as he shamelessly tasted you, eating you out passionately, giving you his all. 

At the sound of his name, he looked up. Held your stare as he lazily circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, then said, “Morning, mommy. How did you sleep?” 

“What…” You sounded breathless as his finger slowly slid inside you, stroking that spot inside you that he knew all too well. Fuck, this was sweet torture… “What are you doing?” 

He chuckled, finger-fucking you lazily. “Waking you up, of course.” He frowned playfully. “What does it look like I’m doing? Hmm?” He pressed another kiss to your throbbing clit before he nuzzled the space between your hips, “How dare you keep this away from me, huh? How dare you keep yourself away from me, mommy?” 

You were too overwhelmed to speak. Hands tied above your head, his finger and tongue in between your legs… each time you opened your mouth to speak, only moans escaped. No coherent sentences. 

“Bucky!” You cried out when he made you come the first time. He just chuckled and showed no sign of stopping. He added another finger and kept stroking that spot inside you, his tongue kept teasing your clit until you came a second time. “Bucky, please…” You begged. 

He looked up this time, smiling like a devilish, blue-eyed, young god. “Yeah, mommy?” 

“Please just… untie me.” You whispered, breathlessly. 

He chuckled, in that boyish way of his. “No? Cause then you’ll just pull away from me.” He reasoned. “I like you like this, all nice and open for me.” He said, “I really missed this, I didn’t even touch myself because… because that’s your job, isn’t it?” He rambled, fingers still slow fucking you. “You can’t just kick me out and stop caring for me just cause you feel like it, mommy.” He frowned, in a way you’d always found both bratty and adorable. “Don’t you see? Don’t you see I need you?” 

You sighed and whined as he made you come once more before removing his fingers from you. 

“Did you hear me?” He asked, kissing his way up your body, “Your baby boy needs you, mommy.” He whispered as he nuzzled your neck. 

You had no choice but to play along, ignoring the way your body, traitor that it was, craved him still. “Baby,” You whispered, “I need you to untie me, okay?” 

“No.” He said in that bratty voice of his. 

You groaned internally. This is what you get for fucking around with clingy, younger men. “Baby, please.” 

He pulled away to look down at you. His glorious body hovering above yours. Bare chest, only black sweatpants today. “You won’t pull away?” 

“No.” You answered, truthfully. 

“And you won’t ask me to leave?” 

“No, baby.” You were beginning to hear that familiar bratty tone in his voice. He could get whatever he wanted when he got in moods like these. 

He smirked, with nothing but a glazed, determined look in his pretty eyes. “Good,” He said, then reached behind him and pulled out his silver handgun. A very familiar handgun. Damn you, another silly purchase. This one even had his initials engraved on it. Bucky chuckled when he saw the look on your face, “Oh I would never hurt you, mommy. This is just… precaution.”

You nodded, holding his stare. You said nothing as he brought the gun closer to your chin. The cold barrel pressed against your skin as he dragged it downwards. Your heart raced faster than it ever had. Bucky’s eyes followed the trail of the gun as yours remained fixed on his face. 

Then he said, “Do you remember when you gave this to me?” He stopped the barrel right in between your breasts. “Do you remember how much fun we had that night?” He smirked, dragging the barrel further down your body. 

You hissed as the cold barrel pressed against your wet folds. Bucky had a heated look in his lust-drunk, now hooded eyes as he slid the tip of it up and down your folds, coating the barrel with your wetness. 

You squirmed under him, instinctively grinding against it. It felt immoral, chasing that feeling. Fuck. 

“Look at you, mommy.” He mumbled. “All of this for your baby boy, huh?” He brought the now wet barrel to his mouth, opening his mouth to let his pink tongue out. He held your stare as he licked it clean. That sinful tongue of his tasting you again. “You always taste so fucking good…” He tossed the gun aside once he was done proving his point. 

Your mind was a mess. Torn between giving in to desire and lust, or side with rational thinking. 

“Open your mouth, mommy.” He whispered, leaning in until his face was just inches above yours. 

When you did open your mouth, he spat in it before leaning in to give you an orgasmic kiss. Messy, wet, warm… your body tingled under him. His warm skin pressing against yours. Bucky reached up and untied your wrists. 

Instead of trying to put some distance between your bodies, you found your hands reaching for him. Your fingers sliding into his hair as he moaned into your mouth. “Fuck… mommy,” He whimpered, holding you closer and kissing you deeper. “More,” He groaned, “I want more.” 

Your bodies moved into position instinctively. Your legs spread just enough for him to settle in between them. 

You had forgotten just how sensitive you were from earlier, so you hissed in pleasure and pain as he slid all the way in. 

You saw panic in his eyes for a moment as he calmed you down, cradling your head and kissing your face. “Shh, shh, hey,” He whispered softly, “It’s just me,” He said, kissing your lips, “It’s just your baby boy, mommy. Open up for me, that’s it, there you go…” He moaned as he pulled out and pushed back in again. 

You swore as Bucky moved his hips expertly, slipping in and out of you with ease. Soon, he was slamming into you, his movement animalistic and unrestrained much like his feelings. He was relentless, taking what he wanted, how he wanted. 

“Buck…” You whined, giving up and just letting him pleasure you. 

Bucky slammed in and out of you continuously, moaning and grunting in the process. “You feel so good, mommy.” He murmured as he increased his pace, fucking into you mercilessly as your legs locked around him. 

Your thoughts were a mess yet again as you felt your vision getting blurry with each passing second. You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pulling you into him, hard, each time he filled you up. “Baby…” You moaned. 

“I know, I know,” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “Tell me I feel good inside you,” He whispered, “Tell me I fuck you good, mommy.” Damn him. He knew just what made you lose your mind and he used them all to his advantage, making you fall under his spell just like that. 

He sped up, rocking his hips harder against yours when he noted that you weren’t doing as he asked. His hand reached around to grab your throat carefully. He squeezed gently, speeding up into you as he looked straight into your eyes, your soul. “Tell me I fuck you good.” He said, jaws clenching and a vulnerable look in his eyes. 

You gripped the bed sheets as he pounded into you. “You… you feel so good, baby.” You mumbled, Bucky leaned down and pressed his soft lips against yours as you whispered, “You fuck me so good.” 

He smirked. “I know.” He sounded cocky as he said, “I know only I can make you feel this good, mommy.” 

Your walls constricted around him, hard enough to make him go faster. Bucky pounded into you harder than before, the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the room. He took you higher, and higher, and higher until you felt tears escape your eyes. 

“Baby…” you were breathless, unable to form coherent words as he fucked you silly. 

“Come for me, mommy.” He groaned, giving you a messy kiss as he moaned some more against your mouth, “Come for me…” 

You let the pressure build inside you, before letting go, unable to hold back. More hot tears streamed down your face as Bucky kept pounding into you, your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, chasing his own. 

“Fuck, mommy,” He came with a loud groan, filling you up with his cum yet again. You caught your breath as he leaned down to kiss you again. Kissing all over your face, down your neck and your shoulder. “That was so good,” he whispered, “See how good we are?” He caressed your face, “Why do you want to throw this away, huh?” He kissed your forehead. 

Then he looked over at your bedside table and chuckled. 

“Look at the time,” He sounded calm and normal again. “You’re gonna be late for work, mommy.” He giggled, kissing your cheek, “Want me to drive you? We could grab breakfast on our way.” 

Your brain was too foggy for you to string together words or sentences so you just nodded and whispered, “Okay.” 

— 

After that morning, it was back to being as if you’d never broken up in the first place. 

Each time you even try to say something regarding your relationship, Bucky would shut you up with a mind melting kiss. His skilled tongue and hands could make anyone forget anything. 

You’d wake up each day to find flowers on your bedside. Breakfast was always already made. And Bucky was always ready to drive you to work. 

You decided to bring this whole situation up one day while he was driving. “You know we can’t keep doing this, right Bucky? We can’t… you can’t keep acting like this.” You looked at him, sunglasses hiding his pretty eyes, jaws clenched, that tight black t-shirt hugging his muscular body… 

Bucky sent a quick glance your way, smirked, placed his hand higher up your thigh and asked, “What are you talking about?” He was so fucking good at acting oblivious. 

“This, Bucky!” You gestured to all of him. “All of this. You refusing to leave, you driving me to work.” You listed. “We ended whatever was between us,” You stated. “Why are you being like this?” You lowered your tone, realising that reasoning with him was futile. 

He didn’t say a word. He kept driving, kept his warm hand on your thigh. His touch was as electric as always. His calm demeanour was nothing but a façade, and you knew. He was like a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. 

And he did. 

When he pulled into the underground parking lot of your office building, he grabbed your wrist before you could get out of the car. 

“Let go, Buck. I’m getting late for a meeting.” You told him. 

He took his sunglasses off, tossed them aside and said, “You’re the boss. There’s no such thing as the boss being late.” 

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, what do you want?” 

“You.” He answered, leaning closer as he tugged on your arm to bring you closer to him. Fuck he smelt good. “You’re all I want, mommy. No expensive gifts, no trips, no cars, nothing.” He whispered, brushing his lips against your cheek. “Just you. All of you.” 

You groaned, pulling away a little. “I can’t give you that.” You explained. “I have a busy life, I can’t commit, I cannot be in a normal relationship, I can–,” 

He cut you off, tightening his grip in your wrist. “Is there someone else?” He questioned, again with that glazed look in his eyes. “Hmm? Is there some… Steve?” 

You frowned, “How do you know Steve?” 

Bucky smirked, “I went through your phone after you fell asleep last night.” He confessed with no shame. “He texts you quite a lot, doesn’t he? He’s a bit too flirty to be just an employee, mommy.” Bucky spoke, low and deep. “Who is he?” 

“No one.” You answered truthfully. Sure, Steve could be a little flirty sometimes. But he was amazing at his job and you couldn’t lose him so you ignored his flirty comments and texts as one does. He was indeed no one though. “Just an employee, Buck.” You said, quite annoyed. “Don’t fucking touch my phone again.” 

He subtly flinched at the coldness in your tone. “Sorry, mommy.” He murmured. He looked genuinely apologetic for a moment. “I… I saw someone kept texting you late at night and,” He let go of your wrist and slid his hand in between your thighs, “I had to see who it was.” 

Yeah. Pencil skirts around him? Bad idea. 

But his hand felt so good. His fingers sliding up and down the flimsy material of your thong. You gasped as he slid a finger into you easily. “Oh damn you, Bucky.” 

He chuckled darkly into your ear. “Do you like him?” He asked, sliding another finger inside you, making you roll your hips, thrusting into his hand. “Do you let him touch you?” 

“No,” You whined. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping his hand in between your legs as you moaned. “He’s… no one.” 

“He better be no one,” Bucky whispered, kissing down your neck as he finger-fucked you. “Otherwise…,” He gently nibbled on your skin, “You know I always keep my gun on me, mommy.” 

You gasped in shock and pleasure. “Bucky, please.” 

“I will never hurt you,” He whispered. Then chuckled almost maniacally. “You know I will never hurt you. But that doesn’t mean I won’t get rid of whoever tries to come between me and my mommy,” He said, thrusting his fingers rapidly in and out of you. “You’re mine.” 

The interior of the car was heating up. The air was dense and hot, your heart was racing as he touched you, taking you higher and higher… until he stopped abruptly. Pulled his fingers out of you and popped them in his mouth, shamelessly moaning at your taste. 

You almost came at the sight of it. 

You didn’t realise your hand had subconsciously started making its way in between your legs, seeking to alleviate the sweet pain there, until Bucky slapped your hand playfully and said, “Stop that. That’s my job.” 

That broke you out of whatever spell you were under. “Why’d you… why did you stop?” You questioned, breathing heavily. 

Bucky smiled, kissed you on the forehead and said, “I have to keep you wanting more, mommy.” He kissed your mouth, gently. “I’ll pick you up later. Just give me a call, okay?” 

And just like that, he avoided confronting the situation at hand. Again. 

—

A few days later, by some miracle, you’d managed to talk Bucky out of dropping you and picking you up from work each day. 

But of course, he didn’t agree to that out of reason. No, he needed to see something. 

You were unaware of it but Bucky had gotten access to most of the security cameras placed in your office building. The underground garage, your personal office, your assistants’ offices, the lobby, everything. 

He did it to keep an eye on you at all times. All because he wanted you safe all the time. And anytime you were out of his sight, his heart was restless. This was the only way he could be at peace. 

But also, he needed to keep an eye on this Steve. 

—

One evening you came home, and the house was eerily quiet. 

No dinner cooking. No extravagant flower arrangement waiting for you in the foyer. No cheesy notes. Nothing. 

The silence was the opposite of peaceful. You walked cautiously inside your own home, looking for the cause of this tension in the air. The kitchen was empty. So was the sunroom. And that left… 

There he was. Sitting in your lavish living room. Manspreading on a sofa with a drink in his hand and… his gun in the other hand. 

You stopped and froze immediately. “Bucky?” You called out, given he was staring at the ground rather than at you. He didn’t reply so you tried again, “Baby? What is it?” 

He looked up this time. Whatever his moods were, he could never resist those nicknames coming from your mouth. He took one last sip of his drink, whiskey it seemed, placed the glass on the carpet and said, “I thought you said he was just an employee.” 

Your heart sank. You knew who he was referring to. “He… he is.” 

“Oh?” He tilted his head to the side as he pulled his phone out, tapped a few times before turning the screen towards you and there it played. Footage of you and Steve from earlier, saying goodbye to each other. 

In the video, you could clearly see yourself smiling and laughing at whatever Steve was saying. Then out of nowhere, Steve leaned in and kissed your cheek before whispering a goodbye and wishing you a good weekend. 

You looked back up into Bucky’s eyes. They were empty. Like there was no soul behind them, nothing just betrayal, anger, and hurt. “It’s not–,”

“You said he was just an employee.” Bucky repeated, leaning back against the sofa. “Then why the fuck was he touching you? Hmm? Kissing your cheek? Why did you let him touch you, mommy?” His calm voice made you shiver. 

“How did you… have you been watching me?” You asked, taking a step closer to him, only the coffee table separated you. 

He was quiet. Cocky pout on his pink lips. You noticed the slight stubble on his cheeks and how much older they made him seem. More broody even. 

“You can’t do this.” You spoke softly, trying not to aggravate the situation. “You can’t invade my privacy like–”

He cut you off. “Oh please,” he pouted like the brat he was. “I’m your baby boy, aren’t I, mommy? Can’t I care about you? Can't I keep an eye on you when you’re away?” 

“Bucky… this is too far–” 

He cut you off again. “Too far?” He chuckled in that humourless way. “You think I’ve gone too far?” He stood up, he was in no way drunk. 

His movements were calculated, steady, and commanding. He walked around the expensive coffee table and stopped just inches away from you. 

“You’re lucky you couldn’t hear the thoughts that crossed my mind when I first saw him kissing you, mommy.” He leaned in and breathed in your scent. “He was this close to you, wasn’t he?” 

“Bucky,” You tried not to let your voice sound shaky. “Please… 

“Tell me why I shouldn't go back and…” He brought his gun up in front of your face, “mess with him a little.” He scoffed. “How dare he touch you? Hmm?” Bucky brought the barrel up to your face and trailed it down your cheek. “Doesn’t he know you’re mine?” He whispered. “Doesn’t he know only I get to touch you?” He scoffed. “Or am I your secret, mommy? Huh? Do you not tell people about me?” 

You gasped as the cold barrel trailed down your neck, and disappeared into your shirt, lightly grazing the tops of your breasts. His lips brushed against your neck next, kissing his way leisurely up and down. 

You were a mess. You were scared but you knew he would never hurt you. You thought, maybe if you hadn’t been so harsh when it came to breaking up with him out of nowhere, maybe he wouldn’t be like this right now… right? 

His hands quickly undid your top buttons as he kissed his way down to your cleavage. He let out a soft, vulnerable moan as he tasted your skin. The sound of it almost made you slide your hands into his hair to tug on it. Almost. 

“Bucky,” You whispered breathlessly, “You can’t do that. You can’t hurt him just because he kissed me goodbye.” 

He scoffed, pulling away to look into your eyes. His pretty blue eyes were still vacant. “I can. I might.” He said, “You know I would do absolutely anything for you.” He brought the barrel of the gun and tapped it against your parted lips. 

“No.” You insisted softly, “You can’t.” 

“No?” He gave you his signature puppy dog eyes. “Tell me why I shouldn't? Give me one good little reason, mommy.” He leaned in, his free hand touching you down your side. He knew your body too well. He knew you would be dripping for him if he just checked. 

He went to do it, but chose to tease you instead, dragging his fingers up and down your inner thighs through the fabric of your skirt. 

Oh damn him. Him and his intoxicating touch.

“Because I love you.” You finally slid your fingers into his hair. He closed his eyes momentarily, as if relishing the feeling of your touch against his scalp. “Just you.” You said, “It’s just you for me. He’s no one.” 

For once, his eyes lit up. “You promise, mommy?” 

“I promise baby boy, I promise.” You repeated. “Put the gun down.” You instructed. And when he did as you asked, tossing the gun aside, you said, “Now how about we forget about all of this and have one of our lazy nights, hmm? Just dinner, a movie, me and you?” 

Bucky smiled, leaning in to nuzzle your cheek. His arms wrapped around you tightly. You couldn’t help but hug him back. The familiarity of his body made you burn. The touch of his skin against yours like the electricity you craved. 

He whined as he nuzzled your neck. “I’ve missed you…” He whispered, unbuttoning the rest of your shirt before taking it off slowly. “Can I please have you? I need to feel you, mommy. Need to taste you… need to make you feel good.” He breathed into your ear, making your body shiver. “Please?” He begged. 

You nodded and let him guide you over to the sofa. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap. He chuckled once you straddled him, pulling your skirt up as you undid his pants. 

“I won’t let anyone come between us, mommy. No one. Ever.” He whispered, sliding his fingers between your legs and rubbing you where you needed him the most. He watched in awe as you gasped and moaned. Was there a prettier sight? He wasn’t sure there was. “You won’t leave me, would you?” 

“No…” You gasped as he slid two fingers into you, stroking you until he brought you right over to that edge, and kept you there. 

“Good.” He said, “‘Cause I’m crazy about you.” He chuckled, “You can’t blame me, though. Love does that to people.” He leaned in to kiss your neck, biting down on your skin playfully. “You know there’s nothing I won’t do for you, right?” He sped up his fingers, fucking you a little faster until he began to hear you make those soft little sounds he loved so much. The ones where you tried your hardest not to moan. “I will beg, worship, and plead…” He trailed off, stopped finger-fucking you for a moment, just to get your attention before adding, “...and I won’t hesitate to even kill for you, mommy.” 

You whimpered. Fear and pleasure. There was a warning in his eyes. His glassy blue eyes, there was truth in them. And manic love. Obsession. 

There was no other way for you to go about this situation so you took on your role. You reached up and carefully wrapped your hand around his throat, pushing his head back just a little. You stared into his eyes as you lifted your hips and positioned your hole to the tip of his hard cock. 

“No killing. None of that, you hear me?” You said as you slowly sank down his cock. His lips parted as he exhaled shakily, your walls clenching around him for emphasis. “Do you hear me, baby?” 

He let out one of his pretty whimpers and mumbled, “Yes, mommy.” Then he whined and cursed, “Oh fuck you feel so good.” 

“Good.” You whispered, lifting your hips up and sinking down on him again. Repeating the movement until the two of you were groaning and gasping for air. 

Meanwhile, his thoughts raced as you took his cock so perfectly. His perfect mommy. The love of his life. The woman who controlled every move, every emotion, every thing of his. 

He smirked as he looked up at you, how you were riding him. Nice and slow, and passionate. 

Bucky had to suppress a scoff. You really thought he’d let Steve go just like that? 

Silly mommy… 

Bucky might be the rebel son of his family, but his last name and generational wealth still spoke volumes. He had a little army of his own that he could command into doing anything. And they were currently… taking care of Steve on his behalf. 

Not that you would ever know. 

All you would know would be that on his way to work on Monday, Steve would have an unfortunate, terrible accident. 

“Just you and me, right mommy?” He whispered in his lust-drunk haze as he looked up at you. You looked like a goddess. One he wouldn’t mind worshipping for the rest of his days. 

You agreed. Unknowingly fueling his obsession. “Just us, baby.” 

---

Fin. 

a/n: [dials number rapidly] Freud my good man, listen–

[the-great-ladyg]

Did someone notice in the new Somerton's video that he didn't adress any of the misogyny or transphobia accusations? Like, yeah, he said "people say I hate women but that's not true" and only that. And he also addressed the misinformation, in which we can include the misgendering, but he still didn'h fully talk about this even when those accusations were, along with plagiarism, the most talked about on the internet.

This dude didn't give any reason for why "he doesn't hate" women or trans people, it truly was a "source: dude trust me" and Somerton expects us to believe him, when no, he threw shit on women in every chance he got, he showed transphobia in many times for no fucking reason other than he's got something against women and trans people.

And he also didn't address any of the racism people has pointed out since a long time, but more specially since HBomberguy and Todd's video. This dude only focused on plagiarism, and even that he sucked at since he implied it was an accident. How can you plagiarize on accident?, you have to write, to read, to check what you're doing, he read and Nick's scripts, he must have noticed the copying and still left it with no citation. He said he loves investigating and reading, then he must notice the copying, yet he also said he "didn't notice", like this dude can't recognize he did this on purpose, it was all "an accident".

Also, he just tried shifting the blame, placing it on Nick or, again, like it was an accident and he didn't mean to it. Somerton knew what he was doing, all of us are taught at school, specially college, that plagiarism not only is bad, it it diminishes the quality and credibility of the person that stole those words, it can get you expelled or fired, and let's not forget the people you're hurting by stealing from them, and this case the people whose experiences and words were stolen. Somerton is in a more privileged position than many people in the LGBTQ+ community since he's a cis white man, and yet he decided to attack this way many POC and trans people, not only he stole their words, but he also used racist and transphobic rhetoric, he misgendered, he erased sexualities and put all of us on the same box of "cis straight white women".

"I wanted to make my channel a safe space", yeah, sure man, like saying all the negative things of an MLM media is straight cis women's fault, or misgendering, erasing the bisexuality of a woman or changing "trans" for "queer" is going to make to make your channel a safe for queer women and trans people.

I just deep down know he won't change at all, maybe except for the citations, but we must expect he'll continue being a misogynist racist transphobe dumbass that will keep ignoring this accusations and using the homophobia card.

I really feel sorry if he truly felt so bad he harmed himself and ended up on an hospital, if that's real I hope he gets better and never gets to that point again. Maybe I'm naive, but I want to believe this is not a tactic to manipulate us to forgive him, but... idk, I just expect anything from this man that has used the homophobia card to protect his ass from any criticism.

But talking by myself, as a genderfluid AFAB person who consumes and creates queer content and felt so insulted by his racism, his misogyny and transphobia, and noticing how he avoided the topic, I don't accept his apology and hope he disappears from the internet before he can do any more damage.

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: how to promote self-love going forward

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: message from your secret admirer

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile one

you might settle for less because you likely get caught up in the drama and find it fun/addicting in the moment. you pursue goals/ideas with focus, but often lack the confidence to back it up. or you wait too long for others before moving on.

i believe love has taught you that you should never settle too quickly. it is best to date multiple people before starting an exclusive relationship. don't get overwhelmed by relationship drama because it will consume you and ruin your day (but only temporarily because nothing is forever - so why stress?). you know now not to let others stick their nose in your relationships - too many opinions will taint your feelings. the biggest lesson is that you learned to cut off anything that interferes with your desires.

i feel like you are jealous maybe a lot of people around you are coupled and you are alone. be cautious because you don't know when you might ruin your relationships with others just because you feel unhappy with your situation. stop worrying about being judged or how often you are rejected - it doesn't matter you are going to find someone in due time (you are worthy). you are loving, nurturing, and protective.

you can nurture yourself by getting out there. you have been alone and isolated for too long - so get out there. stop refusing to look within for what you truly want. ask for support to get what your truly desire, especially in the social sense.

what i feel you need to hear is that you have a strong energy - you are gifted with the ability to receive what you need most from the universe. don't rush or force things - what is meant for you, will find you. you are passionate, creative, magnetic, and attractive. you are also nurturing and dependable. you are one of the most supportive person in most people's life. you have many things - you attract the world and its gifts to you. you don't settle for less - when something is missing you go looking for it. you follow your heart and instincts; you make room for new things to bring joy/happiness.

pile two

i feel like you struggle with maintaining balance in a connection and that might just be the source of why you settle for less. you get too invested in a connection and then you loose track of who are and what you want and need most in a connection. you often find yourself prioritizing the other person over yourself.

love has taught you that things can change very radically/unexpectedly and cause you to question everything. you have learned that you have to let go of certain aspects in your love life, so that you can make space for new things and even new people can better help you grow and thrive.

i feel like you are sad presently or are in the process of recovering from some sort of emotional pain/disappointment. sorrow doesn't last forever. you are very capable of healing - new experiences await you. not all new experiences are destined for heartbreak - have faith.

you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself to succeed in love and be the perfect partner/person. perfect is impossible - so be generous with yourself because right now you are only burning yourself out. to nurture your wellbeing, you should stop judging your productiveness and stop comparing yourself to others - delete social media and take sometime off where you don't have to do anything at all (no doctor's appointments, grocery shopping, etc.). do what brings you joy and say "no" to everything else.

i feel like you need to hear that you are a patient person who realizes that change doesn't happen overnight. you celebrate the small wins with small cute things (for example, maybe you survived a hard week and you get yourself a cupcake). things are getting better so just acknowledge that they are. you can recognize when things have been blown out of proportion or things are being exaggerate for dramatic effect - you are human bullshit detector which is a rare find. even rarer still you have the ability to find a resolution to any argument. you are presently working on not letting other people's expectations of you throw you off of your path. you can make your own path and you know it. you trust that you are capable of standing independently of others, and you are capable of anything.

pile three

i don't feel like you are the type to settle for less than you are worth - i get the feeling that you are slightly cocky about your situation. you might need to practice being humble in a connection because you can come off as judgy or as though you have a superior attitude. alternatively, you might find yourself in connections with people who are very controlling and you might not recognize that you are in that type of connection until it is too late. it is not your fault that you might have settled for less than your worth in the past - you just found yourself in the wrong place and the wrong time and experienced a toxic relationship.

i feel as though you learned that a partner doesn't need to be flashing or exciting instead they need to be stable, grounded, and trustworthy. you have had the flashy connections in the past and it was not the best. you need something more sensual than passionate. something that grows slowly over time so that it lasts.

your intuition is never wrong about the people with interest in you, so learn to trust yourself. you are very emotionally intelligent, so trust that you have the answers you seek about any connection. trust your gut instead of overthinking and overanalyzing.

cultivate your intuitive powers, so you can manifest your dreams into reality. to nurture yourself i sense that you should reconnect with nature and recharge with the the power of the sun. you should also focus on healing any and all blockages that concern your self-esteem/self-worth.

you might need to hear that you are nurturing and dependable. you are one of the most supportive person other's life. you have many things - you attract the world and it's gifts to you. you realize that things can change very radically/unexpectedly and cause you to question everything. you have learned that you have to let go of certain aspects in your love life so that you can make space for new things and even new people who can help you grow and thrive. you know that heartbreak is temporary and that time heals all wounds. you can heal and grow as soon as you believe that you are worthy and that no one wishes to hurt you or your heart. it's okay to be hurt but you have to release that pain instead of bottling it up so you can recover.

[shattersstar]

bound

pairing: vampire x reader

summary: He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired. It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

warning: horror-ish elements, blood mention., religious undertones (aka general vampire themes/concepts)

a/n: i have so much to say about this lil piece of writing omg okay, i wrote this back in May i believe around the time i was reading we have always lived in the castle and it Shows. its lowkey fantasy which is not like anything i write but the horror-ish vibes r pretty consistent with my original stuff. it is heavily inspired by a lot of the vampire media ive consumed too though even if its not based on one particular character. i have been thinking about it since i wrote it and while im a bit ehhh about posting something original i quite literally have nothing else to share and as i said before y’all keeping i’d still eat the fruit in my notifs is so :)))) so this is a thank you to y’all and a Step back into writing for me hopefully. ramble aside enjoy ! feedback and comments r always appreciated

—

It had rained, no—poured, stormed, hailed, cried, screamed. It had swept in during the day, white noise to him as he slept, while it greeted you during breakfast. The clouds wept over the lands in what felt like divine punishment. It was as if nature or something higher than that was against him, accosting or trying to stop him. As he stood at the edge of the great forest, rain pelting the top of his head he assumed there was nothing greater than nature. Not even him. There was nothing higher nor more humbling. God could spite someone, but nature enacted it. It flooded your sleepy town and even sleepier forest and he was on the other side. Confined to his home until the storm cleared and the sun rose.

He would not be graced with your presence yet again and he tried to ignore the call to change you, to have his fangs pierce your skin and his blood run across your tongue. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself of the hurt it brought and he would never cause that for his love. His dearest who lived on the other side of the forest he was unable to cross. His icy glare moved along the border, not even noticing the rain drenching his billowing black cloak anymore. Somewhere in the forest a branch snapped and animals chattered.

He would live for eternity, he could wait for you. It was his resolution before heading back to his home in the woods and trying not to be angry, to let fury run through his long dead veins and restart his stilled heart. If anything—anyone—could, he knew it was you.

He followed the path compacted over the years of those travelling to stare at his home, humans daring each other to go near it, but never following through when the windows shuddered and a figure moved past one of them like a ghost. Times had changed, but people were as superstitious as ever. They saw his decayed and rotted home and prescribed evil to it. It was overrun with vines, leaves would not grow on them. Even in spring. They stayed black, and gnarled, tightening their hold in his house each season. Thorns protruding from some of the thicker vines, protecting him it seemed. You had noted that, staring at his wondrous home with bright eyes.

It was in a clearing in the forest, grey stone withered away and swallowed by nature. It still stood strong, the outside a grotesque picture that did not reflect the inside. Oil lamps and lighting fixtures alike lit the space from the inside out. It warmed the walls, revealing the deep brown wood panelling that made up the older parts of the house. The stairs were still the original wood, a grand staircase that greeted no one, but him and you these days.

Many of the rooms upstairs had been closed off, sheets gently placed over the old furniture and doors closed forever. He had no need for such space, other vampires stopped visiting when hunters started lingering in your town. You had told him of your many encounters, most were smart enough to stay out the forest, but they still killed many of his kind. Finding them in their carriages amongst the cars rolling down the freshly paved roads. Horses killed along with whoever dwelled inside. They saw themselves as vigilantes, but you had told him most of your town considered them a nuisance. Urban men thinking they can save the more rural lands that bordered their great cities. Cities that forgot the magic that once thrived in places like the forest.

“Their thinking of building a highway through it, connecting us to other towns or one of the bigger cities.” You had explained one day, sitting in his lap and letting him hold you. He hummed, long fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. You placed your warm hand over his and leaned further into his chest. He asked you to let him hold you and you had obliged like always.

He kept those memories in mind, the soft questions he would extend your way and how you listened so dutifully. May I hold you? Will you lay with me? Come walk through the cellar? Can I drink your—

His fist slammed against his dinning room table, nearly snapping it in two as a crack ran jagged through the centre of the chestnut coloured wood. His fangs were out, nails morphed into claws dug into his skin and blood dripped into the crack. He stared at it, muscles in his face twitching as he waited for it to end. Waited for the creature in him to return to laying dormant and his own clear, sound mind to return. Though he supposed it was never very clear or sound anymore, not when you had burrowed inside of him and promised to never leave. And as if his thoughts beckoned you themselves, the old telephone in his study rang. It’s shrill scream echoed through the quiet house, though the ring was discordant, snapping in two halfway through its loop and screeching a pitch higher. The noise made his pointed ears twitch and with a swoop of his cloak he was in his study. He answered it on the normal ring, cutting it off right before it went off tone.

He held the phone to his ear, but waited to speak. “Hello?” You asked, your voice soft and worried. You’d never called him before—truthfully he had no idea this phone even worked.

“Hello my love.” He returned, and you breathed out a happy sigh.

“Oh my god, hi! I found this number in some old directory—phone book thing,” You explained with an airy giddiness that he wished to share, “I wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but…” You trailed off and he was smiling fondly into the receiver.

“I have missed you.”

“I miss you too, I hate this weather I can never get through the forest when its so rainy.”

“I know.”

“Maybe they should build a highway through it, I could hitchhike my way to see you.” You laughed, but he turned somber. Industrialization finally touching the sacred land of the forest didn’t sit right within him. It may be the great divider that kept him away from you, but it was his home. A highway felt like you were asking to be swept away, to a new town or bigger city that he could not adventure too. He could ask you to stay—he knew you’d oblige—but it was not his place to keep you here. “Is your phone one of those spin, dial ones?” You asked suddenly, breaking through the tension he hadn’t meant to create.

“A rotary phone?” He corrected with a ghost of a grin, “Yes it is.”

“I want to see it when I come over again.”

“And so you will.” It was quiet again and he hadn’t noticed the tears running down his face. He didn’t know he was able to cry anymore.

“I love you.” You whispered, holding your cellphone close, likely curled up in bed and staring out your window at the rain and the forest beyond it.

“I love you dearest.” His voice did not betray the sadness building in him. “Sleep beloved, I will see you soon.”

“Yes, I’m gonna come see you and your rotary phone.” You laughed, forced and watery.

“Soon.”

“Soon.” You repeated, and hung up. He kept the black phone, laced with intricate gold details, to his ear for a moment longer. He had heard your voice at least and could sleep. He moved through his home, snuffing out candles and flicking off switches before finding the one room without windows. A coffin laid on the floor, dark brown and glistening with the finish that had been applied centuries ago.

He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired.

It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

Though it was hard to think of such evil things when looking at your face, he had taken the photo while you were on the roof. Wind had wiped your clothes into a frenzy and you laughed as the night sky twinkled behind you. He had taken it and was surprised when you’d given it to him only a few days later. He had kept up with modern technology as well as he could, but there was always something so magical about photographs to him. He collected hundreds over his life time, faces he knew and others he didn’t. Organized neatly into a collection of books, which he’d let you look through on occasion. He showed you photos from the many lives he’s lived, something about them bringing warmth rushing to your face.

He was always so devastatingly beautiful, regal and hypnotic across all eras. Yet, he couldn’t focus on the kind words that bubbled from your lips as the rushing of the blood under your skin nearly shattered something inside of him. His fangs threatened to meet your skin, but with calculated focus he reigned in his hunger. It was hard at first—you were the only human he had been around in decades—but he did it for love.

Everything he did was for love, it was his reason for existence it seemed. You had other reasons for your claim to life, but to him? You were all he had, the only reason to not let the sun engulf him or let a hunter kill him. He could not break your heart until you broke his. He let that thought dwell in his mind as sleep overtook him just as the sun rose and the rain ended. Its incessant pitter patter had ceased and he somehow dreamt of you standing golden in the forest and beckoning him closer.

He woke up to your face—maybe it wasn’t a dream—as you crouched next to his coffin. Maybe he had finally died and you were welcoming him to where God decided to send him. If you were there it couldn’t be hell. Could it be?

“My love—“ Your hand pressed to his chest, keeping him still. “It’s still daytime, sleep okay?” You whispered, hand moving to his jaw and cradling his face in your palm for a moment. “I’ll be back in a sec okay, I just need to change.” He nodded against you, kissing your hand before you let him reside in darkness. He had caught a glimpse of your pants caked in mud and could smell the blood from your skinned palms. Despite the slick terrain it seemed you ventured through the forest to see him. It made his chest shudder and for a moment he thought you had actually restarted his heart.

It was only a few minutes later when you were carefully opening his coffin again, now dawning a loose fitting silk shirt that made his red eyes alight with something wild. You had cleaned your scrapes and mud off your skin, smelling faintly of rain water and the lavender soap you gifted him. You stepped over him, nestling against his side and letting him enclose the two of you. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your head rested on his chest, knuckles grazing over your hair while you stretched an arm across his torso. Your legs intertwined with his long ones and you let out a breathy sigh.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, and while you likely couldn’t see as thing, he could see you perfectly. You shook your head no against his chest, yawning into the fabric of his shirt.

“I just wanted to see you.” You murmured, chin resting in his chest as you made hit best attempt at eye contact in the blackness. “I saw the dining room table, are you okay?” You asked, somehow staring through him in the darkness. He offered his hand instead of finding the words in his throat, slowly unravelling his fist to reveal a mark free palm. He wasn’t sure you understand what he meant or if your eyes adjusted enough yet, until you carefully closed it once again, kissing his knuckles and placed your hand over his. You both were silent for a moment, until you looked up at him again and breathed, “You’re all I want.”

“And you’re all I have.” He held you closer, watching a grin pull at the corner of your lips. He was sure it was that devotion, obsession even, with you that would bring about his downfall. Centuries old and all powerful, but reduced to nothing without you. His strength and knowledge meant nothing if he didn’t have you to share it with.

And you could not stand your stagnant life in a town full of people who wished his kind dead. You chose a trek through the forest during the twilight hours of the morning to see him, bringing him soft kisses and silk under his hands as you let your mouth meet his. You kissed him with all the exhaustion and lethargy wrapped up in the two of you, molasses slow kisses that were just as sweet. It was how you fell asleep, lips to his neck and head tucked under his chin before your warm breathed puffed across his pale skin. He fell asleep not long after, engulfing you in his embrace, his cloak draping over your frame as he decided home was where you asked him to be.

[botanicalsword]

What does your Solar Return Chart look like?

I just wanted to check in and jot down some personal observations notes for my Solar Return chart.

How are you feeling so far? ♡

❥❥❥❥

Instagram : @le.sinex

♡̆̈

Self-love is a journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance. Embrace the process and be kind to yourself.

ʕ·͡ˑ·ཻʔ♥︎

Venus in 1H - I used to place a strong focus on my appearance, constantly checking myself in the mirror. However, this was not due to an obsession with my own body. Instead, I checked for any transformative changes in order to feel more confident and beautiful.

North Node in 1H - Improve overall well-being and learning to love and accept yourself for who you are. By focusing on your own personal growth and development, you can cultivate a sense of self-love that will radiate outwards and positively impact all areas of your life.

Jupiter in 6H - I was making a career change or upgrading my skills, I aim to learn new things and challenge myself. Seeking out mentors can provide valuable guidance and support as I navigate my new career path.

Sun in 12H - Personality transitions: I have been craving more knowledge and wisdom from books and online resources. However, I feel that there is not enough time to absorb all of this knowledge. As a result, I am searching for more channels to obtain the information I seek.

Moon in 1H - I was in a state of longing for something new and exciting to come into my life; a desire for recognition and the opportunity to make a name for myself. I had been feeling restless and unsure for a while, but determined to make a change. I was craving something different and wanted to reach my goals, but wasn't sure how.

Chiron in 12H - I was struggling with substance abuse, which had been affecting my daily life for quite some time. I knew that I needed to seek help for my mental health issues, which were related to trauma that I had experienced in the past. I understood that this was going to be a challenging journey, but I was determined to take the necessary steps to improve my well-being.

12H stellium - I stayed in a lot and enjoyed my own solitude, detoxing from social media and even taking a break from my network connections. Read a lot of spiritually oriented and self-help books.

Moon in 12H - My depression was a terrifying experience. I felt trapped in hopelessness and despair. The sadness and emptiness were unrelenting, and there was no light at the end of the tunnel. Coping was a struggle, and at times, the darkness consumed me. It was difficult, but I am grateful for the lessons and strength gained.

Pluto in 10H - Struggle to work: too much distractions When become interested in learning about a subject or a new way of organizing information, may experience an intense focus and drive to learn.

Saturn/Moon aspect - I was more sensitive to feedback from teachers or people you admire and respect. I attempted to draw a line to limit myself.

Venus/Saturn aspect - I need to reevaluate my core values in order to better determine how to invest my time and energy in others, including potentially cutting off unnecessary relationships.

Ascendent in Libra - delighted to be surrounded by friends who respect each other's personal space, which makes for a great social circle.

North node/MC aspect - I was experiencing some difficulties with working on publicity and reputation. My lack of experience is making it difficult to develop an effective strategy for promoting my brand and building a positive reputation.

Mars trine moon - experiencing positive outcomes and making progress towards your goals - have the added benefit of feeling emotionally supported by the important people in your life such as friends, family, and colleagues.

❥❥❥❥

This is just my personal take from what I've seen and been through.

Masterlist @botanicalsword

[writing-house-of-m]

Addiction

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Talks of drinking and drugs. Sexual themes but nothing completely explicit. Toxic relationship. Manipulation. Cheating.

Word count: 3159

Summary: You can't stop yourself from falling under Wanda's spell

A/N: I thought of this when I heard the line "There's something about the way you look tonight" from the song Billie Bossa Nova by Billie Eilish. I actually didn't realise how similar this was to the song until I listened to it again then tweaked it to fit the song a bit more. Also, this is very different to what I usually write so I'd appreciate any comments letting me know what you think. As always, enjoy!

CHECK THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT MEDIA YOU CONSUME

These parties were becoming more and more of a nuisance with how often you were being forced to attend them.

There was no point in you being here.

Happy people having fun, you would roll your eyes more if you could.

A final space is waiting at the bar as if it is reserved for you. Taking the seat you order a drink then look around. Seeing the different groups of people chatting away does nothing to help you. You really do not want to be here.

You turn your back on the excited murmur, trying to drown it all out whilst waiting for your drink. You wish you could have ordered something stronger, anything to cover up the bitterness in your mouth. The gum in your mouth now feels like you are chewing on plastic. It is just something to distract you anyway.

When the bartender places your drink in front of you, you immediately take a sip. The ice in your glass clinks against the edges when you turn in your seat to look at the crowd of people that fill the room once more.

Pretentious is one word to describe them. People who want nothing more than to look important. Elite. When really everybody is just as scared as the next person to lose their deluxe lifestyle.

Not long later your head turns to the entrance when two people arrive. Your gaze moves along with them as they walk into the venue, arm in arm, greeting different people as they pass. The 'perfect' couple.

It makes you sick but when you try to pull your eyes away you can't. There is something about the way she looks tonight. She always did look good in red.

It isn't as strong as it can be but she will always have you under her spell. Your attention is drawn away when a hand brushes her cheek. A hand that isn't yours. No. It is from the one she chose in place of you.

The action is enough to get you to look away as if someone has thrown poison in your eyes.

You take another sip of your drink and just as you expected it does nothing to calm you. It is like there is no taste. All that is left in your mouth is a sourness since she left you.

The woman who haunts your dreams isn't yours anymore. These stupid parties are an additional reminder of that. It is bad enough you have to see them every day around the compound together.

You can't even look him in the eye. Your mind is filled with thoughts you shouldn't have about her anymore.

It's not your fault you know what she looks like under that dress. The intoxicating sounds she makes when you press all the right buttons. How sweet she tastes. Everything is dull in comparison.

You miss being able to steal that nectar from her lips at random times of the day. It has changed your pallet forever. Nothing will ever compare, no matter how hard you try to replace it.

The weight on your chest, that was supposed to get lighter with time, just gets heavier. Guilt always lingering in the back of your mind.

A sarcastic voice pulls you out before you can spiral any further, "And here I thought you would be pouting." Natasha. Always there to make you realise how childish you are behaving.

Natasha was the biggest advocate for you and Wanda. She still hopes one day you will reconcile, even with that walking toaster in the way.

You clench your jaw, a probable gloomy look resting on your face as you let out a sigh and look down at the glass leaving your hands damp with condensation.

"Please don't, Nat," you try to push her away. Knowing your friend though, this was long from over.

"What? I just came over to see if you wanted to dance," she says casually but you know there is a reason for it.

Your eyes fall to the dance floor. Wanda's arms are wrapped around the wrong person. She looks happy, a slight blush on her cheeks that makes her look youthful. You can't help but feel jealous. She used to look at you like that.

The weight on your chest grows heavier. You knew you wouldn't make it through tonight. It's why you didn't want to come but 'appearances need to be upheld'. Who are you to not meet Tony's demands? He has given you a place to live after all.

"No." It comes out a little more aggressively than you want it to but you know Nat won't take it personally.

"Ouch," she feigns hurt, "Is this how you treat a lady that wants you?"

A scoff leaves your lips and you smile a little at the joke, deciding to reciprocate, "I'll let you know when a lady approaches me," you smirk.

Natasha chuckles, glad for the win to get you out of your head, even if it is just for a second.

"You know how Steve feels about gum at these functions," she says, extending her arm, a napkin resting in the palm of her hand for you to spit out the flavorless substance into.

As Natasha scrunches the paper into a ball leaving it on the bar top you explain, "It distracts me from wanting to put a 'death stick' in my mouth."

"Well, I could always distract you if that's what you wanted," she flirts with an eyebrow raised.

You shake your head at her antics. A small smile is on your face as you look down into your drink. There are darker shade spots on your pants from where droplets of water have rolled off your glass.

Natasha takes the tumbler from your hand and places it next to the discarded napkin. She then pulls you from your seat, "Come on. Dance with me."

You let her guide you, keeping your eyes to the ground so you don't see the green ones you used to wake up to.

When you make it to the crowded floor Natasha places your hand on her waist, the other one following shortly after as she wraps hers behind you, drawing you in and resting her head against your chest.

It's a slow song so Natasha stays close to you, unbeknownst to you she is keeping an eye out for Wanda.

Getting bored of looking at the ground you close your eyes and take in the warmth that Natasha provides with her closeness. The comforting press of her chest against you, her shampoo invading your nostrils, soothing as you sway lightly to the soft music. You were never good at dancing but this, you could do.

It must be a few songs later because the people who surround you are different to those who were there when you first arrived.

There is a misstep on your part and you bump into someone, an automatic 'sorry' falls from your lips before you see who it is.

"It's okay," Wanda smiles at you and you almost forget how to breathe. You shouldn't be here. You have been doing so well breaking old habits.

Natasha links her arm in yours standing next to you as you avert your eyes, clearing your throat. You can't look at either of them, especially the android. The bitter taste you are so familiar with makes itself known at the back of your throat.

Vision and Wanda exchange a few words of greeting with you and Nat before Vision looks in the distance. He then excuses himself saying Tony was calling him over.

The habit of you trying to stop clenching your teeth is really being tested right now, you can't help yourself so you give in to the action. Especially when Natasha decides to play wingwoman, excusing herself next and telling you to dance with Wanda now that you were both alone.

This is not what you needed. All your hard work is about to come crumbling down and you know it.

Natasha often talks about how good you are for one another and how she wants to see the two of you flourish once more.

If only she knew.

All you want to do is run away. Get as far away from Wanda as possible but old habits die hard. The smell of her perfume and inviting smile doing nothing to help your resolve.

Wanda takes her position, arms around your neck. Your hands rest on her waist keeping her at, a literal, arms length away. You fall into step with the music, this is all a familiar well rehearsed dance between you two.

She tries to hold your eye contact but you look behind her, "I saw you by the bar, but you don't smell like your usual order," Wanda analyses. "You stopped smoking too?" She adds inquisitively. Your reply comes as a slow nod, still looking at a random spot in the distance behind the band not wanting to get hooked by her gaze.

"You're doing better than you ever did when we were together, malysh," your jaw clenches hard. Whether it is because of accusation or the pet name, you are not sure.

Wanda can feel how tense you are. Your shoulders are practically up to your ears so she strokes the back of your hair, fingernails lightly scratching the sensitive area.

"Just relax," she whispers, making you exhale slowly. Her actions and warm breath fanning over your face makes you do just that, your eyelids falling slowly, shoulders dropping evidently, "That's it baby, it's just you and me."

She pulls you closer so she can whisper directly in your ear. Her words calm you down unlike any drink or narcotic you've consumed before.

Her voice is soothing, so much so that you are under her spell once more. She has never needed to use her powers to have you under her control. You were always weak whenever it came to Wanda. "Let's get out of here," your head bobs up and down, slowly agreeing to her command. You allow yourself to get pulled along by her, out on to a private balcony.

It is like you are on autopilot, turning into the character she likes you to be. You just want to make her happy after all.

Wanda rounds a corner where you both know nobody inside will be able to see the two of you. Facing you she walks backwards, holding onto your jacket. She leans against the wall pulling you closer. One of your hands holds your weight beside her head as the other goes to squeeze her waist.

Wanda pulls you by your collar to close the distance. Your lips were always much better at dancing, especially against hers.

It wasn't always like this. You were heartbroken when she left you, you still are heartbroken, and you know it's wrong because she is with Vision now. But you still crave her. She is an addiction you cannot break. So you will take whatever she gives you - the best and worst kind of torture.

Heat travels up your neck, filling your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Your senses are overtaken by Wanda. Her sweet taste invades your mouth, her nails scratching your scalp as she holds onto you tighter when the kiss gets rougher.

You press your body against her tightly, your hands finding the bottom of her dress pulling it up. Her heavy breathing is interrupted by a gasp as the cool air hits her warm skin. You take this as the perfect moment to move your kisses to her neck and lift her so her legs are wrapped around you. That is when Wanda feels the bulge in your pants.

"I hope you weren't thinking of anyone else but me, malysh," she says between breaths.

There is an innocent pout on her face when you look at her and mindlessly reply, "Only you."

Your lips land on Wanda's as she tries to rub herself against you but you hold her still, pressing her against the wall even more, making her grunt in frustration when she can feel the hardness pressing into her. "I need more," she exasperates.

You roll your hips with hers, giving her the smallest bit of satisfaction for a moment, making her moan loudly. "Please sweetheart. I need you, you know what I like," she holds your jaw roughly, nails digging into your skin. "No one can fuck me like you do."

Her words almost make you lose all of the self control you still have left, but you come to your senses when a cold gust of wind hits you, making you remember where you are. "Not here," you whisper. You then leave a trail of kisses along her jaw finishing with a peck on her lips.

You let her down and keep out of sight as you walk hastily to get to your room. Wanda smirks, biting her lip when you make it to the elevator. She pushes you against the far wall then attacks your lips and neck. Unbuttoning your shirt to leave a mark or two on your collar bone. You don't get the same privilege.

No one can know.

When you finally make it to your floor, you enter your room only wanting to make Wanda feel good. The little voice in the back of your mind reminding you she is no longer yours is forgotten as your rendezvous continues.

…

Wanda sleeps against you. The sound of her light breathing filling the air.

Her warmth and having her tangled in your sheets comes at the cost of your sanity. To you it is but a small price to pay.

No one knows about this and it has to stay that way.

You can't even tell Nat. She understands why Wanda initially broke up with you but now that you were doing better she has hoped you would have reconciled if not for Vision.

You try to take in the peace of the night. You try not to think about the guilt that lingers after you fall into bed with each other. You try not to think about the fact that Wanda will have already disappeared by the time you wake up in the morning. You try not to think about the rehearsed repeated lie you tell Nat when she asks where you disappeared to before the night ended.

The woman in your arms will always be the love of your life. She will always take advantage of you because she knows she can and you will do whatever you can to get whatever crumbs she will give you.

…

Falling to sleep always came easier when she was in your arms. You stir awake when you can no longer feel the comfortable weight on your chest.

Lifting your head, you are confused when you see her almost out of bed, "Wanda?" You ask groggily, reaching for her wrist.

There is no reply but your mind catches up, it is the time of the night where she leaves you for the arms of another. You let out a sigh and drop your head into the plush pillow whispering, "Stay."

"Go back to sleep, Y/n," Wanda lays next to you, stroking your hair. "You know I have to go."

"Please stay," your voice is barely audible because of the tight knot that has presented itself in your throat.

You don't mean to sound so desperate but you are tired and far too broken to pretend that you are okay.

Wanda wraps her arms around you as she continues to stroke your hair. She shushes you and whispers sweet words in your ear as your face presses against her bare chest.

It doesn't take long for you to fall into the depths of slumber once more.

The next time you wake up, Wanda is gone. The once warm sheets are now cold, holding another secret which costs you a piece of yourself.

The bitter taste has returned to your mouth once more as you get up to start your day.

It is long before most people will be getting up considering the party the night before. You pick out a loose t-shirt and some sweats so you can take advantage of the empty kitchen before anyone else gets up.

You start up the coffee machine and wait for it to heat, trying to find peace in this quiet morning. Just like all good things, it comes to an end, "Morning stranger," you hear the husky voice of your friend.

You try not to roll your eyes, knowing she would have some way of knowing even without seeing your face, "Looks like someone had some fun," Natasha says pointing out the marks on your neck. "What was her name?"

After you pour two mugs of the hot beverage you turn to face her with a tight-lipped smile, "Distraction," taking a small sip after.

The coffee is not strong enough to cover the distaste in your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Don't tell me," she says as she gets closer. "But I am glad you had some fun," Natasha says, rounding the island to pick up the mug you left for her.

You raise an eyebrow, "Don't I always?" Which Natasha scoffs at. "If you don't mind, I'm going to finish this in my room before our training."

As you walk back you hear a door open and close, figuring it will be Steve, you don't look up until you recognise the two voices.

You divert your attention from Vision as soon as you make contact with his synthetic blue eyes, your sluggish steps never stopping. The guilt creeps up the back of your throat, so you do your best to clear it.

Vision greets you first, "Good morning, agent Y/l/n." Who is followed by Wanda giving you a sweet smile, "Morning Y/n."

"Morning," you manage to get out as you brush past them. You make it to your room and swiftly close the door behind you.

Placing your coffee down on your desk, you lean over it taking a deep breath. Hot tears threaten to fall but you try with everything you have to push them down and control your breathing.

The lies are easy, you have always been good at telling them - when the drinking became too much and you were out getting whatever you could get your hands on to dull the ache that comes with being an Avenger, the lies would easily spill from your lips. It's keeping up the act that is the difficult part.

You know you shouldn't but you think about the inevitable; falling back into bed with Wanda again. You could call it an obsession at this point.

You just wish you were stronger, to be able to stay away from her but you know it is impossible. Because you are an addict and you will indulge for as long as she will let you.

[letsberealgenz]

50 easy habits that will change your life

Have you ever been in a situation where you know you need to change your life but you just do not know where to begin from? Or probably you feel a great sense of stagnancy in life where you can’t seem to see the way forward.

If you’re one of us, then you’re definitely at the right place honey! Let’s just begin with the ultimate truth of life. If you track your entire life journey from childhood to adulthood, you would come to a realization that routines are what put you where you are right now. Think about it, isn’t habits are the one which makes up your daily routine?

Now we know the root level solution and isn’t it funny how it’s the smallest habit in your life that’s actually contributing to the biggest difference? And it’s so easily to overlook it because it seems insignificant. We go out looking for life solutions but who’s going to let you know that it was internal all this while?

All that you’ve been searching for was here all this while waiting for you.

1. Fix your sleeping schedule

2. Rise early (utilize the morning hours)

3. Pump your body with clear fluid

4. Meditate (or even pray)

5. Solitude with nature

6. Journal

7. Read

8. Self-study (research)

9. Keep your phone away first thing first when you rise in the morning

10. Workout

11. Healthy consumption

12. Join the right societies/organizations/communities that’s going to help you grow 1% better each day.

13. Listen to podcasts/audiobooks (watch YouTube videos that’s actually helping you in some sort of way amidst the entertainment)

14. Intentional living

15. Reduce mindless spending

16. Track your finances

17. Goals reflection

18. Night journaling

19. Declutter your space

20. Mix with the ‘right’ people

21. Keep an open-minded perspective

22. Allow others to express themselves openly

23. Self-care routine

24. Reward yourself from time to time

25. Step out of your comfort zone as regularly as possible

26. Learn something new everyday

27. Consume your vitamins/supplements

28. Reduce Netflix binging

29. Reduce toxic social media consumption

30. Detox your following list

31. Get your blood test done

32. Dental checkup too

33. Get a glow-up for yourself

34. Reflect your personality/attitude from time to time

35. Check up on your family/loved ones regularly

36. Declutter your wardrobe

37. Set up a vision board

38. Buy things that you ‘need’ only not that you ‘want’ (get what you want when you have that surplus amount)

39. Volunteer

40. Rest day (stillness)

41. Celebrate every milestone despite how small it is for you (for someone else it could be a big achievement)

42. Avoid using your phone during social setting

43. Set up your environment for success

44. Cheat day

45. Set boundaries for yourself and others too

46. Think in the long-term perspective

47. Plan your important days way earlier

48. Practice gratitude as a lifestyle

49. Don’t focus too much on the negative news (learn from it and leave it behind)

50. Detox your smart devices (set up space for applications that you truly need only)

Watch the full video here! Talk to you soon xx

[chvnnie]

Letter One: Smoke and Tears

Love Letters Series Page

wc: 2.7k

genre: angst

warnings: apocalypse au, creature feature, use of weapons (guns), alcohol - brief, injuries (gunshot wounds, though no details), fire. I believe that's all, but if I missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW

summary: It's been over a week since you've heard from Chan, and the guilt is burning him alive.

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents the stray kids members as people, or as a whole. you are responsible of the media you consume. please read responsibly.

series taglist: @straystayvlive, @fawnpeaks, @strayingawayy, @almighty-obsession, @ershyni, @chai-papa, @moon0fthenight, @djeniryuu — comment to be added

Hey, you.

I know I promised to write sooner. There has been a lot happening and while I sat down with my notebook daily, fully intending to respond to your last letter, something forced my attention away. I’m so fucking sorry it took me this long. I haven’t been very good about keeping my promise, have I? 

I promise to change that. Actually. There’s no excuse for missing that week window like I did. And it will never happen again. 

We got to the south side of town seven days ago. It was difficult leaving midtown, but staying there wasn’t practical. On top of all the haunting reminders, it started to get overrun. Rather than cling to the past, desperate to keep it despite its death, we chose to leave. 

The journey south only took us a day or so, but was relatively easy. Jisung cried the entire first day, walking further behind us than we would have preferred. The change has been the hardest for him — he really hasn’t settled in yet here. I’m scared he never will. 

But other than that, there really weren’t many hiccups. I was feeling optimistic; we hadn’t had this good of a journey probably since the start of it all. No injuries, no misplaced anger. Simply doing what we needed to survive. 

We even found a bunker within the day of arrival, saving us the risk of camping out in the open. A tall, abandoned building. I think it used to be an office. The cubicles have been nice. You know how limited privacy is now, so we take what we can get. It was easy to barricade all the exits, and our walkies actually work here (that was the one thing about midtown I despised). There’s even a kitchen! God, what a luxury. Truly, it seemed like a long term place. 

Until day four. 

There’s only two entries to the office; the front and the fire escape. It was Seungmin’s night to guard the front, Hyunjin at the back. I sat in the long conference room with Jisung — the window faces the street. It’s a good lookout. All was quiet, as it had been so far. I pulled out my journal fully intending to write to you. 

That’s when Jisung gasped, pulling his binoculars from his face and hitting me to grab my attention. I grabbed my own, and followed where he was pointing. No, it wasn’t what you’re expecting. 

“Are those people?” Jisung had asked me. 

My vision isn’t bad, but even I had to squint. He was right; though the group wasn’t big, it was obvious by the way they were walking. 

By the torches they were holding. 

For a while, we just watched. But I don’t think it was from lack of entertainment, rather sheer shock. The torches were touching homes, old buildings, flames blossoming at high speeds and dancing in the night sky. Screaming for attention, begging the Nots to come find them. To find all of us. 

The south side isn’t safe. Though the word has spread, I can tell you my love, that I’ve never feared I wouldn’t see you again until we broke into this god forsaken office building. 

Jisung had a window cracked, the perfect amount of space for his sniper to slip through. He was up and at the gun before I could fully process what was happening. 

“I have a shot.” He says within seconds, the cracked circular glasses fogging up. “At one. I could take at least three out—“

“Don’t.” I said, adjusting the binoculars to get a better view. Twelve people, I counted. All around our age, a mix of men and women. Each of them laughed as they turned the earth to ash. “Wait.”

“Chan, we need to act now.” He’s getting ready. I can tell. Tongue between his teeth, digging until the muscle breaks into a tiny cut, blood slowly filling his mouth. “They’re headed our way.”

He’d give away our location, I explained. The group isn’t close enough to be a danger. We need to wait, to see if there's a motive behind the destruction. Humanity is all united against the dark — there has to be a purpose behind this betrayal. 

Jisung wasn’t happy with me. Between forcing him from midtown and now this, I feared that night that if we didn’t lose our lives, I’d lose one of my most trusted friends. Still, he didn’t shoot, following the one we picked as the leader with his gun. Ready in case the okay was given. 

It didn’t take long for me to allow it. I don’t want our letters to just be about the horrors we’re facing. The suffering of being apart. So I will spare you the details of what made me allow the shot, and death of these twelve people. 

We didn’t see the thirteenth until it was too late. Until the makeshift cross was pitched in the center of the burning homes, the screams of this man were loud enough to wake the dead. In a world where everything has been taken from us, our lives forced apart, something I believe we all deserve is safety. 

Except for the twelve. While I mourned the man, I was delighted to watch the fire claim its creators. 

The rest of the night was quiet. Jisung and I sat in silence as we watched other refugees extinguish the flames, sharing a can beer we had been shaving. The luxury felt needed after what we had witnessed. 

His hair has gotten long. I think you’d really like it; it’s charming, especially when he ties in a little half pony. The cut on his cheek I mentioned in my last letter has healed nicely; Seungmin is getting better at his stitch work. The stars weren’t visible that night, but with the moonlight that pooled in from the windows, his eyes made you think there were. 

After he took a sip of the beer, his face twisted in disgust. “This is rancid.”

It made me laugh, the dramatic way he stuck out his tongue as he searched for the water jug. “I think it might be a little expired.”

“Oh? You think?”

“If you want to be a bitch, then I’ll just finish it off.”

God. I wish you could have seen the way he smiled, or could have felt the warmth that filled my chest at the sight of it. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Jisung smile like that. He even laughed, which made me do the same even though my eyes were burning from smoke and tears. 

I volunteered to keep watch the next few nights, though it didn’t come without push back. I said I wasn’t tired, though the truth is that I didn’t want to subject the rest of them to the suffering happening outside this building. They’ve had it hard enough, and I don’t want to add to their burden. 

Day five, Felix and Changbin went out to find supplies. We made a list — things we needed, things we wanted. If a luxury could be stolen, it should be. Felix had the paper, smiling brightly at me when I gave it to him. 

I never expected to hear his sobs mere hours later. Head on Hyunjin’s lap as Seungmin tended to the wound he had gotten while they were at a store. They ran into a group of humans, they said. In the same building, though at the other side. While Changbin kept his gun drawn, they agreed to ignore them. That’s just what you do — let others survive. 

Until they saw them. And laughed, laughed, laughed when they shot Felix in the thigh. Changbin’s voice trembled when he described the group of people. Jisung looked at me, face expressionless but eyes wide. 

There were more than twelve.

Superficial, Seungmin said. He was able to remove the bullet and tend to the wound. Felix would be okay, other than the limp he’s sure to suffer long term. 

“Charming, in a way.” Seungmin joked, but it made Lix laugh. Exactly what we all wanted; if he loses his sunshine, what’s the point?

We were blessed with day six. Nothing happened. Literally — Jeongin even started to nod off at his position. The day was spent playing cards or huddling around the beat up radio. Hyunjin started a mural on one of the walls, the colors bringing us the joy we so desperately needed. 

I spent the day in one of the empty conference rooms. Sitting under the window, thumbing through the photo book you gave me. Remember that day we went to the movies to see some cheesy Christmas movie? You hated it, mocking it the entire time just to get teary eyed at the end. In the parking lot, you hit me with a snowball and how was I to let that slide? I love that photo of you, drenched in water and snow, laughing as you build another snowball. 

I flipped through it over and over, happily losing myself in the worlds tucked in those glossy photos. Though everything in the world is meeting a fiery end, you are the one constant. The driving force behind my survival, behind the protection of the others. Without you, I would succumb to the flame. Life is not worth living without you, even if all I have is letters and memories. 

Fire may take your words, though it will never take my heart. 

That day would have been a wonderful one to write. But instead I spent it reading your letters, tracing the characters of your name. How does it look so lovely? How do you make words beautiful? I spent it looking at your pictures, bringing the album to my nose and inhaling deeply. It still has faint hints of the home we shared together. Do you think we might be able to return one day? Even if not, it won’t matter. I just want you. 

But closer. We are getting closer, and closer to getting to you. It’s taken more time than I would have liked, but the apocalypse doesn’t really like making time for people. By the time you read this, we’ll have left the south side. Step by step, closer to you. 

I miss the way you kiss me. The way your lips feel against my body. I miss your breath tangling with mine like the snow colored sheets we used to lay upon. I miss inhaling you, breathing you. The way your breath would hitch when you’re surprised, when you feel good. The little huffs of air your face before laughing your heart out. 

Fuck. I need to hear that sound again. The cassette tape you sent me isn’t enough anymore. I need you.

I fell asleep in that office, your letters pressed to my chest. And when I dreamed, it was only of you. Watching the smoke hand and hand. 

The sixth day, yesterday, the Nots arrived.

We watched as they entered the town; boney backs arched, long nails scraping the streets. Their horrible squeals were almost piercing, even with our windows shut. It’s always so chilling to see them; the remains of humanity lingering on their morphed bodies. Slowly, they slink down the street. Sniffing for any signs of life. 

Felix was tucked in one of the bathrooms with Seungmin, a walkie turned on loud. If we needed to go, it needed to be fast — which left Hyunjin packing our belongings as Changbin, Jisung, and I stood in the very same conference room where we first saw the twelve. 

“They look rough.” Changbin comments, leaning against the window. He had been keeping watch on the front entrance; even though Jeongin and Minho were standing guard. A warning would be valued. “They’re hungry.”

Jisung gagged at the word, cleaning his glasses with the sleeve of his sweater. “Fucking gross, don’t say that—“

“Why do you think they’re so loud? They’re getting desperate.”

At this point, I realized my optimism was playing a part in my downfall. Even as I watched the crowd of Nots scavenge the debris, looking in trash cans and behind fences, I could only think about how lucky we were to be so high up. They couldn’t touch us, tucked away on the fifth floor of the building. 

The lookout walkie gave a crackling noise before Minho’s voice cut through; clear, measured, even though his tone was obviously frantic. 

“Breach at the fire escape.” He says quickly. 

I picked up our walkie. “Do you hear anything?”

It felt like a century before he responded, all of us holding our breath as we waited. The silence was more chilling than the shrill squawks below. It’s one we all know too well; they’ve found prey. I can only hope it isn’t us. 

Minho clicks back on, and I realize it was naive of me to be scared of the Nots. “Laughter.”

The room began to spin, my ears void of all sound except the sound of laughter. Louder and louder it, closer and closer to our floor. The most horrible melody, leaving the bitter taste of blood in my mouth as my body feels like it’s melting. 

They have flames. 

“Seungmin, take Felix out the front.” I clicked in, trying to stay as calm as possible. “Now, hurry—“

“The Nots are out.” Changbin says, eyes bouncing from the direction of the fire escape to the window. “They’re not going to make it.”

“We don’t have a choice.” Jisung mumbles, opening a window to set his gun up. He squints one eye, tracking the creatures with the barrel of his gun. “I’ll take out as many as I can.”

It was a lose/lose. No matter which exit we took, the risk was high. But something in my gut told me that we rather deal with the Nots than whatever is making that bloodcurdling laugh. 

“How close are they, Minho?”

The silence is a beat too long. “Too close. We need to fucking go.” 

There wasn’t much more than needed to be said. By the time Jisung had shot down a good number of Nots, the laughter was accompanied by banging. Slow, hollow knocks. Their fists were hitting the door. 

And then came the heat. 

The flames grew slowly from under the metal door, dancing on the worn out carpet. By the time we were rushing down the main staircase, it had already enveloped the room I had slept in. Where I had dreamed of you. 

If it weren’t for Jisung, we probably wouldn’t have been able to escape as easily as we did. Hurdling over twitching bodies of Nots, we kept our gaze ahead. Running past the cross, ducking behind remains of buildings. I don’t know how long we ran for until we came across an empty convenience store. Changbin pushed a stand against the door after we cleared it. Boxing ourselves in temporary shelter. 

At the window, Jisung stood. Arms crossed, watching the smoke tangle with the clouds. He heard me coming, yet didn’t even look up at me. “I told you we should have never left the mid.”

He didn’t sleep last night. Neither did I.

We are leaving the store pretty soon. Seungmin is checking on Felix’s wound, Changbin and Minho mapping out a new route as I write. We’re heading east this time. I’m not sure when we will stop yet. 

But east means we’re closer to you. 

I’m mailing the letter today, too. According to the calendar we’ve been keeping, it’s now August 23. The heat has been sweltering here — how is it there, for you? Probably that much different, but you’re further north than us. I can only hope a cool fall breeze will greet us when I meet you again. 

I picked a new spot for you to send your letter as our location has changed — I’ll attach a map to this and check it daily. I know we’ll be in that area for a while, so  send there for now. Hopefully we won’t have to flee again, but I won’t be too optimistic this time. 

The world may be on fire, but so is my love for you (hahahahaha). But truly, if it weren’t for you, the apocalypse wouldn’t seem so bearable. 

Stay safe, my love. I’m coming home soon.

Forever yours,

Chan

[adviceformefromme]

How do you let go of fear? I am scared of everything. I have been in therapy for over a decade and I’m grown so so much but the mental battle with being scared of every worst possible outcomes controls me. It’s exhausting. I just want to detach and let things flow.

Hey sweetie, I want to let you know I have BEEN there. My mind was so polluted with fear, every thought was worry, doubt, stress, anxiety but I want to let you know there is light at the end of the tunnel!

Steps:

You need to go on a FAST. This means removing all the things that are causing you to feel fear consciously and unconsciously. I would suggest. No movies / tv unless its good feels/high vibe. Absolutely no watching the news, no horrors, no social media. No music unless it's high frequency. All these media outlets have the power to keep you low.

Work with your journal to understand yourself better. Write down exactly what you are afraid of in one column, and then write the opposite for each one in the other column. For example 'I am scared of men, they will attack me' vs 'I feel supported by men I feel safe around men' (this was a real fear of mine). As you write all your fears. You need to record yourself on your phone in a peaceful calm voice saying the opposite only. Record the list and play it on repeat as many times as a day as possible. Before bed is the most powerful. But if you need to play this 100 times a day do it because you really need to re-programme your mind.

Start consuming content that helps you heal, podcasts, books. More so books. Self-development. Read more, lean on fiction that is positive and uplifting (not keeping you in low frequency fears).

What are you eating? Make sure the foods are supporting you, research pro-biotic diet and get any health checks to ensure your body is optimising at its best (unlikely if you are in a state of anxious fear).

Do some exercise. Get into a wellness routine, yoga / stretches, running, HIT. Whatever you can do even if its running down the road and back for 5 mins. Do something. Your body needs to shift that energy.

PRAY. {personally} this should be at the top, having a solid relationship with God is going to heal you in so many ways. You will receive the guidance you need once you start asking for help - books will fall off shelves (I've said this many times because its absolutely true), people will appear in your life.

Learn to meditate, hard to think of this when your mind is plagued with fear - but watching this breathe work meditation can really help create some space in your mind.

Setting the intention and taking actions to move you out of your current state is equally as important as all the above points, sure you might want to change your mind, but putting in the work to love and protect your thoughts and energy is how you make the shift. I hope these help xoxoxox

[eelhound]

"[The U.S. Surgeon General] is right to talk about loneliness as an important issue and social bonds as critical for our health and well-being — humans are social creatures, and we all need human support systems to thrive. But ultimately, calls that emphasize individual actions don’t quite work to solve the problem, and we need to promote a culture centered around the individual and the collective well-being.

For people to truly not be lonely or isolated, and to live meaningful lives in which their potentials can be realized, it’ll take more than atomized actors making small-scale connections; we need an entirely new social fabric which fosters social connection, and that has to come about through systemic changes, such as what Goldstein says in the rest of his tweet:

The indirect policy solutions on these things are one that centrist/neoliberals will never call for. Ones that give us time, basic needs met as guarantees. A basic income, a 30 (or 20) hour work week, guarantee health care and paid leave, reducing the scale of corporate power in tech, entertainment, advertising by immensely taxing corporate wealth/revenue (not just profits) and by limiting their ability to take over our public spaces and airwaves, fighting for union power, fighting automakers/car culture, fighting suburban developers, and so many more policies that actually foster and enable genuine social infrastructure.

How can you join a political group when you are working one, two, or three jobs to make ends meet? (Even one full-time job is exhausting enough.) How can you take a break to meet someone for coffee or join a reading group when you don’t have child care? How can you seek out new social connections when social media and streaming services are designed to be addictive and take up a lot of your free time? How can you make a social connection without having to consume something (say, buying food or drinks to get a place to sit) because public spaces for recreation are so limited? How can you meet up with a friend or family member who lives 20 miles away or multiple bus rides away? Or when your loneliness complicates depression or other mental health needs and you don’t have healthcare?

I’m not saying people never get to socialize. The point is that social and economic realities make it too difficult for the vast majority of people to develop healthy social lives. There’s also something cruel about telling people, 'These are the solutions,' but they’re things that many people can’t actually do. This makes it easier for people to then blame themselves when they don’t fix their loneliness — after all, the 'solutions' were available!

... The larger point here is that whenever we are told to 'do more of something,' we should ask whether society is creating the conditions for us to do that thing (assuming that thing is indeed good)."

- Lily Sánchez, from "The Surgeon General Should Stop Telling People to Solve the Loneliness Crisis on Their Own." Current Affairs, 3 May 2023.

[littlethingwithfeathers]

How to Use A03 if you're used to Algorithm Fed Content: A kind primer.

There's a post making the rounds where someone, I'm going to assume earnestly, asks the question, "How do people figure out what's good to read on AO3?" And predictably, while there have been some people trying to answer that question assuming that it's being asked in good faith, there have been some people ridiculing this person. Basically, spewing out the fandom equivalent of "git gud noob." Like I said... I'm assuming this person was asking out of actual ignorance and curiosity, mostly because I see a lot of people also lamenting the fact that algorithm-fed apps and fandom spaces are creating a generation of fans who don't know how to actively search for and curate the content they consume. So when they get on a place like AO3 or even Tumblr to an extent, they don't know how to find the things they want and how to curate their experience. And so I guess that's why I pulled up short when this person's question has been getting so much snark. Here's a teachable moment. Even if they are being a troll in this case (which I doubt) here's the chance to give the facts on how AO3 works so they can use this amazing archive themselves. And not just them but anyone who happens upon the post. So... I'm not an AO3 whiz by any means. I don't spend a lot of time digging around in the tags and tools and bells and whistles of the search engine. If someone else wants to reblog with some tips there, go for it. It's the best thing about AO3 in my opinion... other than the lack of censorship. But here's my tips on how to find something you'll like. This is pretty much what I do.

-Go to your fandom of choice's tag. Filter for the rating you want (Teen, Explicit, etc), and then just start scrolling. Take a peek at things that sound interesting from the tags or summaries. You might have to scroll for a bit, and you might hit some stuff that's not for you, but you'll find something eventually. Especially if it's a bigger fandom like SPN, MCU, Hannibal, or Critical Role. -If you discover/know that there's something that bothers you (unfinished work, ABO dynamics, whatever) you can filter for those tags! This is how you curate your experience. It's an active process and there are no shadow-bans or anything in place to keep sensitive content corralled into a certain area. There's a rating system, and there's tags, but nothing to actually make those mean anything unless the user blocks them. While it takes more thought than mindless scrolling, you get to play a role in actively searching out new things for yourself that an algorithm might gloss over. -Likewise, if there's something you really like or are in the mood for, search for that tag in particular. Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Coffee Shop AU... whatever your jam is. -Be careful using metrics like views, comments, and kudos as benchmarks. They fluctuate wildly by pairing, and from fandom to fandom, and are heavily influenced by date of publishing. And just because the majority of people like something, doesn't mean it's for you. If something sounds interesting... read a few paragraphs and see what's up! -Check out the Collections page under the "Browse" tabs. Often these are curated lists either from individual fans or from fanfic writing events like Big Bangs, Zines, and gift exchanges. Fanfic events like these often attract pretty experienced writers so not only is the quality likely to be very good, it's also likely to have some pretty prolific authors -When you find an author you like, and have read your fill of their offerings, see what they have bookmarked or what collections their works are in. You might find some similarly interesting stuff. It's also worth seeing if they have a blog or other social media listed on their about page. They might post some links there or be part of communities elsewhere on the internet that can open up new search avenues for you. -Don't be afraid to read old stuff. Fandoms change and evolve. There's a golden age of MCU fanfic in the 2010s that's just unlike anything else. And the Hannibal fandom has been and always will be a trip, but man it's been a wild ride through some interesting places and obsessions. -And lastly... for the love of god, comment on old stuff. It's not creepy or weird. In fact, if you like someone's writing who hasn't written in a bit, leave them a nice comment. There's this magical thing that happens when you do. Sometimes... THEY START WRITING AGAIN! (saying this from experience here.) Remember... the A in AO3 stands for Archive. It's not a social media platform. It's a library. There is -supposed- to be old stuff there. And you are absolutely allowed to read it and enjoy it and tell the author that. In fact... please do. As I said, feel free to add on if you want to give tips of your own. But be kind. I see a lot of talk about how algorithms are changing the face of fandom and how people interact with fan made content. Let's reach out and educate instead of ridicule.

[gojonanami]

Hi! Do u have any writing tips? bc I’m literally so in love w the way u wrote! From dialogue to scene setting to thinking of cool concepts I’m just in awe!!! 😘

omg that’s so sweet thank you bb — ok I don’t know I have any tips exsctly but I’ll do my best!

dialogue

for writing pre established characters (like from a show or manga or whatever), I try to capture their voice based on their lines in the manga / anime — I try to get the cadence and manner in which they speak.

for example, satoru is a lot more flippant and tends to get irritated and exclaim, while suguru is more calm and cool, but with an undercurrent of that same cocky attitude satoru has.

try to look at lines and quotes from the character and practice writing lines that you think they would say.

For me I try to hear it in their voice — I watch both the dub and sub for jjk, so sometimes I imagine gojo’s English va saying something I wrote and if I think I can hear gojo saying it — I know I did a good job! 

For all characters to get believable dialogue, just think about whether this is a believable thing someone would say (obv depends on what you’re writing) but sometimes you have to consider whether this is a sentence an actual person could string together or not.

scene setting

this was something I struggled with as a writer and I think the only way I got better was by reading personally. reading and rereading descriptions other writers have strung together and trying to take inspiration from that (obv no plagiarism) but like figuring out how and why they included certain details

scene setting is about grounding the reader — otherwise the reader doesn’t know what the characters are doing or are or how it makes them feel. They are just floating aimlessly.

a good exercise is think about how you feel when you enter a space — what you notice, what you tend to see, how it makes you feel, what you think about — writing is all a reflection of reality (to some extent).

a setting is also not about what you just see but how it makes you feel — a living room could make you feel cozy, while a sterile hospital room could make you feel anxious (depending on the character).

concepts

for me, concepts for fanfiction usually just come from consuming other media — like my yakuza fiance fic inspired by a manga by the same name or my emo choso fic was just based on me seeing a TikTok with the song hey emo boy! edited with choso clips.

other things that can help are friends — hannah is the one who spawned the whole professor geto + gojo thing and then you guys also helped roll the ball along as well with all your asks and ideas!

prompts + common tropes can help inspire concepts as well!

general writing tips

just write the thing! sometimes I have to write a skeleton of a fic to get an idea out — sometimes I have to rewrite the same thing a million times to get it right but doing it will always make you a better writer than if you didn’t. i have rewritten the novel I’m working on three times and I’ve scrapped like 350 pages rewriting. sometimes you have to just write

do some planning, don’t try to plan everything - for me I’m not a planner but even I have started creating bullet points of scene ideas to get a flow of how the fic will go. but don’t plan everything because you can get too caught up in the weeds and then miss out on the actual writing, plus things change while you write as well.

[mr-laveau]

The more responses I see to the earlier post regarding the fraction of issues regarding people's hcs and the way they enforce problematic racial stereotypes, the more I see people missing the point.

So! Let's revise the point in simpler terms!

POC: Hi! We've noticed this pattern of portrayal and we just wanted to know what's up with that? It's kinda weird as shit to see–

Fandom: You're telling us what to do! Mind your business! We were fine without this before!

POC: ...

POC: WE JUST WANNA KNOW WHY YOU DOIN ALL THAT–

No one, and I mean NOT A SOUL, gives a shit regarding who you headcanon as whatever race–not a damn soul.

We do think it's weird that these headcanons are depicted awfully similar to the racial stereotypes prevalent in the media and all we're asking is for you to examine where that's coming from because it's making the minorities who have been ever so patient about this uncomfortable. We don't need you to put on a show about how racist you aren't, validate your ethnic HCS with racist scenarios or change your shit. We just want you to consider what those headcanons look like and how they particularly affect others when done in negligence. If you're not willing to do that and you're not willing to look outside of your view point and get the idea then at least do us a favour and say your shit with your chest so you can get blocked instead of hiding behind anons and spouting your bullshit. It's disgusting and your ignorance is tiring to see. At least let me use the algorithm to take you off my feed so I can see the people who don't make me feel shit for existing and asking for consideration.

No one is calling you racist. No one has made this implication. We all just want you to unpack something because it's weird and we can't exist in a space where everyone is blatantly reinforcing damaging stereotypes and denying POC a welcoming space. But if that's too hard for ya then all I'm gonna personally say is:

It's pretty fucking hypocritical that y'all wanna consume media that discusses and critiques systemic racism enforced in schools, the media and society, but you wanna act like you're not adding to the problem those literary allegories represent.

P.S. Centrist behaviors and silence can and will be read by me as being complicit, and wanting to sweep this under the rug is telling of how fucked your mindset is.

[tau1tvec]

hey, maybe you have some advice..but how do you make your gameplay pictures so beautiful? The colours, your sims faces don't look awkward even if they aren't posed, the interior/setting always matches the vibe. Your game looks so so beautiful! Every time I'm playing for fun and take screenshots I feel good. But then I see all those posts on my dash and begin to feel bad about my own.. I want to make my game look magical too. You inspire me to play the game again, every one of your posts is so magical to me and also captures the beauty of gameplay itself. Sorry if this is too much/confusing

Okay, I’m gonna use this ask as an opportunity to be real with you, and anyone else who’s reading who also needs to hear this.

I know it’s common for everyone who’s asked this to be like, “oh no nonny, don’t do that, don’t compare your stuff to other ppl’s stuff, you’re fine the way you are,” and that’s all well meaning and sweet, but sadly this is the real world and society sucks. ✨

Despite how good it is to hear that what and how you do things shouldn’t matter, it doesn’t change the fact that social media doesn’t really care about that, and isn’t built around that mindset. In general, not comparing yourself or your work to others is incredibly difficult to do. Even I do it occasionally, impenetrable self-esteem isn’t a thing, it’s something that’s fragile and easily broken, sometimes without our ever even knowing until it’s too late. So I realized the best way to look at it, is to remove some of the negativity from it.

Controversial take, as a creative, comparing your work to others doesn’t always have to be a downer experience… it can be good, and enlightening even. The great thing about consuming media is that it can do so much for us, the appreciator, like bring us joy, bring us sadness, start a conversation, or stir inspiration, that last bit especially.

Lean into those inspirations, and no I don’t just mean other sims content. Rewatch your favorite old movies, replay your favorite old games, start a Pinterest board, go through some old family photos, create a Spotify playlist that transports you somewhere you’d rather be. Examine them, study them, focus on the colors, the lighting, the textures, there’s formulas in all kinds of media, even your mom’s old Polaroids, aim to create your own.

Learning is a never-ending journey. You can never learn enough about anything. There are so many tutorials on YouTube, and hell, even on here, if you feel like you’ve got somewhere you can improve, don’t be ashamed to do so, and change is good, bc the great thing about change is that you can do it again, and again, and that’s totally okay. Don’t be set in your ways when it comes to content creativity, it’s too beautiful a hobby for there to be any one way to be.

I think the one reason why I love Simblr so much over all other sims communities, is bc everyone here does things their own way, and everyone ( at least I hope ) appreciates each other for that. This adds variety to my dash, and makes it all the more enjoyable to look at. My game looks the way it does bc that’s how I see it in my head. I’m heavily influenced by Hayao Miyazaki, Guillermo del Torro, and old 90’s movies. I lean into the bright colors, I lean into the ideal big kitchen, I lean into the excessive neon lights, and I lean into the cringe dialogue, bc that’s what brings me joy, and that’s what brings me nostalgia.

The Sims itself brings me joy and nostalgia too, and that’s why first and foremost I enjoy playing it, lol, everything else… having a space online to share it with others who also enjoy playing it is just an added bonus.

Now as for the funky faces, there are mods out there that minimize the awkward grin, whether they still work idk tho.

You can also try putting a little more space between the bottom of your sim’s nose and their top lip, it might look weird in CAS, but this will help avoid a lot of the wonkiness from the over-exaggerated smiles in-game.

Learning to love sims for all their quirks, bad animations, and goofiness is also a good tip. 😆