#that way you've actually put your own effort and ideas into it and aren't just stealing other people's words

[buildarocketboys]

Ugh the woman on the table next to me at nandos is talking about writing a book with AI, like she sounds like she's actually writing a book with AI and planning to try and publish it (lol good luck with that), meanwhile, I'm sat here like 😡😡😡

[nothorses]

I think one of the ways that tranandrophobia seems to distinguish itself from the other forms of oppression it is connected to is in the way it attempts to convince you it is indistinguishable and that transmascs are always just collateral damage to everyone else's "real" problems.

One example is the very blatent tirf claim that transphobia on its own isn't real, that it is all misdirected transmisogyny, and that transmascs only experience oppression due to our association with transfemmes.

But there is also the insistence that anti abortion laws and similar things are targeted at cis women and therefore are "women's issues" - transmascs shouldn't complain about being excluded because it "isn't about us". Same with homophobia and butchphobia. Even the terf talking point that they are just protecting "little cis girls" from making irreversible mistakes pretends that actual the transmascs being harmed is just an accident and not the goal.

Trying to talk about transandrophobia is a constant stream of "It's just transphobia. It's just misogyny. No, you can't call your experiences misogyny because that isn't about you. You can't call yourself a lesbian or a butch or compare your oppression to lesbophobia. It isn't about you. Yes, terfs hurt you, but you aren't their main target. This isn't about you. Yes, you need abortions and experience medical misogyny, but you can't talk about it because this isn't about you. You were sexually assaulted because of misdirecred misogyny. Don't make it about you. You've never contributed to the history of gay men, or lesbians, or the trans community. It isn't about you. Those cross dressers weren't trans. Stop trying to make women's history about you. You can't reclaim cunt or faggot or dyke because those words aren't about you. I don't care how many times you've been called a tranny. That word isn't about you. Why must you make everything about you?"

Because sure, transmascs exist, and we might be impacted by everyone else's oppression, but it is always thought of as a theoretical consequence of what is really going on, if it is thought of at all. Transmascs are not considered to be oppressed in our own right.

This idea gives the lawmakers plausible deniability, allies an excuse to ignore us, and feeds into transmasc erasure. If we are never the actual target to begin with, then clearly, we can't be uniquely targeted. The law makers don't need to be held accountable for their transandrophobia because it isn't like they are trying to hurt transmascs, right? We need to let the real victims speak, the ones being targeted on purpose.

Nobody ever sees the way it all piles up, and even if they do, they think "well it's just an accident, right? If we fix the main problem, then this fringe issue will go away on its own" without ever considering that transandrophobia isn't as rare, fringe, or accidental as society wants it to appear and that actual effort needs to be put into dismantling it.

It isn't that they actually believe that transandrophobia isn't real. It's that they just don't believe it is about transmascs. Because even if we are the common denominator, we are still just collateral damage and could not possibly have anything of value to say. Because as collateral damage, our issues are never our own and thus never need to be discussed on our own terms.

100%. And I think this is exactly what this sort of cycle of erasure depends on.

We are erased, our problems are erased, and our oppression is erased, which means it's easy for people to ignore us, our problems, and our oppression. There's so little evidence, so few people talking about it, and they never really see or hear anyone name us in this violence, so surely, it isn't about us at all! It must be about the people they know about already, the problems they know about, and the ones who are always readily named in these conversations.

If we're speaking up, there's no reason to believe us; if anything, we come under scrutiny for trying to talk about these issues nobody else can see. We must be crazy, hysterical, whiny and overdramatic, or perhaps malicious. We're stealing attention, stealing space, and stealing help. We might be victims, but we are incidental and unworthy victims.

And ignoring us, our problems, and our oppression means we continue to be erased. Which makes it easier to ignore us, and erase us, and easier to perpetuate violence against us. And so on.

It's understandable, in a way, for people to ignore us; most people don't know about any of this in the first place, and when they do, they're not inclined to take any of it seriously. Even if they do see convincing evidence that our problems are real and worth talking about, it's easy for that to be a one-off that they eventually forget about. Everyone else is talking about everything else, so we sort of fade away.

It's not their fault; they're not trying to ignore us. They just haven't learned to recognize violence against us, and they just don't seek us out, and can they really be blamed for that? Can they really be blamed for the violence that continues because they and others don't see or try to stop it? We're so hard to find in the first place. You know, because we've been so thoroughly erased.

There are a lot of people who've been fighting this for a long time, and even more we don't-- and probably won't-- ever know about, who've been fighting for even longer. I think it's getting better; the organized backlash against us is, imo, a sign that our reach is getting stronger and wider. But it's a hard cycle to break.

[togglesbloggle]

In Defense of Bad Things

'Bad' here meaning mostly 'amateur'; stuff made enthusiastically by people at an unprofessional level. Art with visible gaps between what the artist imagined and what they achieved, products of flawed craftsmanship. I suppose everybody can appreciate them to some extent, it's a rare parent that doesn't put up their kid's drawings on the fridge in one way or another. But it turns out to be a fully general skill you can cultivate, and the more I do, the more I'm glad I did.

Partly, it's the teacher thing; finding delight in amateur work is one of the ways to find delight in the process of learning. Cultivating a love of striving-qua-striving can help make you a force for good in the world, as people start to feel safe trying to do things when you're around, even when their efforts are wobbly. You get to participate a little more in the process of atoms spinning themselves into ideas, even when there aren't any illusions about whether you're helping cultivate some revolutionary genius in the field.

And partly it's a fabulous way to build community. By necessity, our professional-level skills tend to be at the service of other people, performed for economic benefit; that's kind of how you get professionally good at something in the first place. When we're acting for our own sake, and among friends, most of what we do with one another is amateurish. I only cook middling-okay, I can't hold a tune that well, I'll never be a speed runner for anything. If you can only enjoy singing from the hundred best singers in the whole world, manufactured and polished by major studios, then you and your friends will sit shoulder-to-shoulder and passively listen to music. But it's so much richer an experience to sit face-to-face, actually singing together, even badly; you expose yourself to so many new ways to appreciate and respect one another, building relationships on what you've accomplished and not just by witty criticism or liking the same things.

And partly it's because some of the most powerful and innovative artistic experiences are in high-churn environments with low expectations and low barriers to entry, if only because those catch the passionate and driven young people that have been otherwise overlooked by our systems. The golden age of webcomics meant that a ton of the actual art involved was pretty lousy, but it also produced work that people still talk about today. D&D began as a profoundly unpolished collection of handmade rulebooks sold at cons in a plastic baggie. By the time these products of enthusiastic amateurs filter themselves through various levels of popularity and absorb mainstream cash influx, they're often risk-averse and missing a lot of the bold spark that inspired their fans in the first place; others will simply never drift towards the mainstream at all. I'm not saying you should be the person who goes out to dig through the slush piles of the internet looking for overlooked art, unless you want to be-- but sometimes a work of actual staggering genius also happens to be a Supernatural fanfic by a first-time author who's a little hazy on commas, and if that's a dealbreaker, you're going to miss out on some profoundly valuable experiences.

And hiding behind all of these things is, like...

Our appreciation of beauty has an odd structure, right? When things are done very skillfully, by brilliant artists with years of training, we can usually appreciate those accomplishments. And when we're looking at nature without human influence, and especially when we think very deeply about natural processes and understand them in context, we often rediscover that sense of beauty. There's just this bizarre hole in the middle where we declare things 'ugly'; as if a little skill is worse than none at all.

I really don't trust that gap. It feels like a trick my brain is playing on me, you know? It has me suspicious that a lot of what I consider 'ugly' or 'bad' is not a very direct experience of the world at all, or an informed judgment. That it is, rather, a declaration of (self-, social-) identity; a desire to be seen as a person of good taste, or as somebody who does things well, or just more primitively as one of the monkeys who is in the good-stuff-tribe and not one of the monkeys who is in the bad-stuff-tribe.

[ronearoundblindly]

No pressure at all! But I had an idea for your ‘how would the Cevans characters react’ I’ve loved every installment of this so far 🥰🖤🥰

How would they react if reader was having an off day and for some reason couldn’t get off so she faked having an orgasm in bed.

Is this because of @cevansbrat0007's Ari fic? (which is great, go read that, but I feel like I've seen a surge in this trope since) Because, see, this is very interesting to me, and I really hope you've read other stuff of mine before, nonnie. I don't write everybody as a perfect gentleman...

Warnings for various levels of spice since we are, in fact, talking about orgasms, duh! MINORS DNI. See my Light Masterlist for all-age friendly fics!

James Mace

Ok, I'm not sure it would get so far as for you to actually fake it. Mace is a slow, steady, deep kind of lover. He'd realize you aren't getting anywhere or building up to it pretty quickly, all things considered, and he would make you talk to him while he continues foreplay/touching you. Pretty sure he just wants to be attached to you in some way while you have time together...

Curtis Everett

Curtis gets very intense when he senses you're holding something back, like predatorily intense. Uses his body to cage you in, constant eye contact, probably even pinching/tickling you until you confess.

He doubles down. You fake one; Curtis forces two out of you in return.

Jimmy Dobyne

Shockingly, Jimmy would be super upset if you faked an orgasm with him. (There is one caveat to this: IF HE FINDS OUT.) Jimmy is a straight-forward guy who doesn't enjoy dating games. You aren't into sex right now? Fucking say something. He's horrified by the idea you would just lay there and take it or whatever because what the fuck???

He's got simple rules. If you don't like something, tell him because he can handle himself for one night/a little while or he'll happily do something different. If you never want something he does, then you two shouldn't be together. That's it.

Sex is an important aspect of your relationship, but it ain't the whole thing. Tell him to piss off, or ask for a quiet night of holding each other. Do not lie, cheat, or steal. You lied about being satisfied, you cheated him out of the chance to actually give you what you needed, and you stole his confidence that he recognizes your body's signals. Yes, Jimmy sorta makes it about him, but that's mostly because he feels helpless and a little dirty.

Johnny Storm

Existential CRISIS.

Have you ever faked it with him before? Have other women faked it with him?? Is this a common thing??? Hot shot goes into full-meltdown mode, and unsurprisingly, you end up kinda lost in the narrative there, soothing him instead of yourself.

Oddly enough, you two do end up closer from the experience though because Johnny realizes that he very much values trust and honesty, whereas before he would have thought plain ol' fun the most important thing...

Jake Jensen

Jakey, my beloved, clueless noob... He doesn't really know what to do. He asks a lot of questions. What's wrong? What can he do? What do you want in this moment? Should he have done it differently? Do you need more? Something else? Was it him?

For a dozen times after, he'll ask if that one was real or fake. He's touchy about it, but 90% of his concern is just that you are actually happy. He puts in quite a bit of extra effort for a while after, too.

Lloyd Hansen

I am a broken record when it comes to Lloyd: he does not care. At best, he'd be torturing you to come for his own pleasure. At worst, well, he's there to get off. You don't need to.

If by some magical scenario Lloyd does give a fuck about you or your feelings, I think he'd expect you to take what you needed from him to climax. Otherwise, it's not really his problem.

Ari Levinson

Depends on his own mood for sure. When Ari is stressed or tired, he tends to turn inward and focus on his own feelings, not purposefully ignoring you but still. It reads like he didn't/doesn't notice and just continues on with sleep/the normal routine. If he's got the emotional, energy bandwidth to talk it out with you, he absolutely will. Don't take any offense. Sometimes he's muddling through like you.

Ransom Drysdale

Has no idea. Probably doesn't want to have an idea. Unless it becomes a regular problem, he's just gonna let it slide. He won't bring it up if you don't.

Steve Rogers

On the surface, Steve looks concerned and listens to your reasons for faking, but honestly, on the inside, he hates the idea that you felt the need to. Steve will easily forego sex in favor of literally anything you want to do, so to let it get all the way to love-making and apparently suffering through till he's finished? It makes him a bit sick. He'll get more more restrained and cautious in future, all for want of you never faking again.

Bucky Barnes

Feels like a huge failure as a partner. Spends a good portion of the conversation having you promise to communicate with him better from now on. This is from a man who has so many things going on in his mind that Bucky is often derailed from pleasure/enjoyment during sex. He's just very triggered by the darndest things, and you've been so understanding. Why can't he be that for you, too?

Thank you for asking!

A/N: I know these are a bit short. Let me know if there's one or more you'd like expanded on, but thank you for reading!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would...' Asks; Ko-Fi]

[whatiwishfanfiction]

Chapter 7 (The Wrath of Nature) is up. Excerpt below:

(This specific scene was one of the main reasons I wanted to rewrite the movie).

"If you meant no harm, then why did you put my bed in a river?!"

"I didn't mean harm, my touch was light, a gentle breeze, for the softest flight. I merely meant to float you away, to a land of dreams, to another day."

"ARE YOU STUPID?!" Once-ler exploded. "I FIND THAT VERY HARD TO BELIEVE! OF COURSE THAT WAS A DANGEROUS IDEA! And you're telling me you didn't know there was a waterfall there when you're supposed to be the all-knowing Guardian of the Forest?!"

The Lorax was speechless, caught in his lies. "Remember your promise, I'll hold you to it now. In the river you swore and made a vow."

"I said that because you were threatening my life. Do you really think you've accomplished anything?"

"Hear this important plea, loud and clear," said the Lorax. 'Everyone needs the trees that are here! 'We need the wood,' the voices cry, 'To live and stay, or else we'll die.'"

Once-ler felt a speck of pity when he realized the Lorax really was that dumb. In his simple mind he’d really thought his plan to blackmail Once-ler into a promise was going to guarantee the safety of his sacred Truffula Trees. Typical fey creature.

"Okay, that's it." Once-ler finally grabbed the Lorax by the scruff of his neck. "You've manipulated and tricked me. You've tried to kill me. Let's have this out once and for all. I refuse to be bullied out of this forest. If you can actually give me a logical explanation for why I shouldn't cut down the trees, then I'll stop. How bad can this really be, huh?"

"Fine, have it your way, we'll talk, indeed," the Lorax said. "But know I'm earnest, and please take heed."

"Fine."

Once-ler dropped the Lorax onto a stump, where he stood up straight and cleared his throat. He said in a meaningful voice:

"You think you can chop down whatever you please. But everyone here needs the trees."

"That's too vague," said Once-ler at once. "You have to explain what problem it causes, so we can figure out how to solve it."

"Well," said the Lorax, "my feathered friends have all made nest, in the trees they decided they liked best. You can't impose upon their tweets, and come and steal their cozy retreats."

"Okay," said Once-ler. "Then I just won't cut those ones down."

"Oh, great excuse, I'm sure you know best, but how will you tell which ones have nests?"

"I promise to use my binoculars every time."

The Lorax considered this. "Well, my dear sir, even if that part might be alright, what about the fruit in which Barbaloots delight? This fare is their favorite sweet, juicy treat. They aren't the type of bears that just eat meat."

"Wait," said Once-ler. "There are a bunch of other trees around here that have fruit. So they won't be affected."

The Lorax sighed. "Beyond that, other things are at hand. Trees create fresh air for the rest of the land. Through leaves so frugal, they drink the air, and give it life, don't you even care?"

"Okaaaaay," Once-ler considered. "But counterpoint: there are still lots of other trees and plants around here to contribute to photosynthesis."

"I'm afraid I haven't been explaining this right," the Lorax said frustratedly. "Because the Truffula Trees are a special type. It takes hundreds of years for them to grow. Why waste them on cheap products, I don't know!"

Unfortunately, the insult only distracted Once-ler from his strongest argument.

"Hey, my product is NOT cheap! I put tons of effort into developing it. The Thneed actually took lots of research, and I had to fight and sacrifice a lot—"

"Alright, alright, you're getting offended! This conversation should really be ended. I'm just saying don't waste ancient trees. I don't see why it's so hard to agree…"

(Read the rest on Ao3).

It was really hard not to make the Lorax seem like a psychotic jerk here. I decided to make him into more of an unpredictable fae creature who will show more depth and have his say later.

I wanna try my best to steelman both sides in this, because the movie accidentally made Once-ler the most sympathetic by far. (Though even he didn't go far enough). Gonna give the Lorax his due soon.

The argument was important for me to include here, because the Lorax had no arguments in the movie and only relied on manipulative music.

[punsmaster69]

13/DEC/20XX

bang.

𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨.

𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜.

𝙘 𝙧 𝙖 𝙘 𝙠.

in the same amount of time it took for me to snap my eyesockets open, undyne had practically flown into the room, standing determinedly above me.

".......mornin' to you too."

"Out!!"

"my bed, my room, my rules-"

but she wasn't having any banter, and lifted me up by the back of my shirt like a mother cat does with a kitten.

barely grabbing my jacket as undyne took me out of the window, i saw a flash of red pass by my doorframe.

(by which the door itself was hardly hanging onto still. )

a loud voice shouting for undyne to be careful with me followed after us.

after a very interesting "walk" (that consisted very little of actually walking, and more of jumping across the tops of things)

i was planted on one side of the yard, undyne on the other. papyrus quickly appeared beside her, landing from who-knows-where.

"Alright, punk!"

"Here's the deal!"

"You're supposed to be using magic."

"made bones."

"Bones aren't much and you KNOW IT."

"good enough."

"Your idea of 'good enough' is so skewed that you got yourself HOSPITALIZED before admitting it was bad!!"

couldn't exactly deny her being right, there, so i kept my mouth shut.

"We gave you the time to handle this on your own. The space to see if for once you could put in a just LITTLE effort, considering it's your LIFE on the line."

"But?!"

producing a familiar rounded bone from her coat, undyne hurled it with more force than i could have ever summoned it with past my head.

"Papyrus says the only effort you've made are these BONES!!"

"You're not even doing anything with them!"

"HE MADE SOME TOWERS."

"yeah, and about three piles."

"You're not even doing anything USEFUL with them!!"

"This bare-bones–"

she cut herself off and shook her head.

"This low-effort, ONE damage dealing, lazy bullshit IS NOT ENOUGH, SANS!!!!"

undyne shot a spear up through the ground. on instinct, i slid to the side to miss the attack.

papyrus startled and said something worriedly to her, but she pressed on.

"You're CLEARLY not doing this on your own, and Papyrus won't push you enough by himself."

the skeleton in question seemed half ready to put a stop to everything right now.

picking up on this, papyrus was then barricaded from doing so with a cage of spears.

"SO THAT'S IT!!!!"

"I'm GOING to make you use magic today, Sans!!"

hoisting herself on a spear, undyne propelled herself across the lawn.

i didn't have enough of a window to get myself out of the way before she turned my soul green.

and so,

the 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 began.

i looked to papyrus, but he'd resigned to (uncomfortably) sitting out for now.

undyne sent slow-approaching spears towards me, and i summoned a few small bones in defense.

trying as i'd done before to step out of the way, i only struggled in place against her green magic.

a similarly slow attack began, so i deployed the same strategy of minimally blocking.

𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠.

shot suddenly from the side, a particularly fast spear caused me to react with a more intense pattern than intended; a wall of bones, which fell down almost as soon as they appeared.

rummaging through my pockets for any non-attacks to do on my turn, i scrounged up a loose ketchup packet.

papyrus immediately sent me a disapproving glare from behind his prison of spears.

deeming fast attacks more effective, undyne sent a barrage of them my way.

at first, i repeated the pattern i'd accidentally summoned before.

quickly tiring of that, i opted for caging 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 in attacks.

"You can't take your turn from a box, Sans."

"yeah?"

i pulled a second condiment packet from my pocket.

frustrated, she assaulted my self-made cage with relentless attacks. when one bone failed, i summoned another in its place.

not sure how long i could keep this up for, i sat in the grass; shrinking the box with me.

claustrophobic, sure, but lessened how high i had to make each one.

again, i ransacked my jacket pockets.

causing me to have to jump for what could be the first time in over ten years, undyne raised spears from below to kick me out of my box.

"Sans, you can't keep doing that forever!!"

"can i keep doing this forever?"

out of condiments, i settled for using a butterscotch candy.

"NYYYAAAGGHHH!!!!"

a singular spear - going fast enough to snap through five bones and catch my jacket shoulder - certainly would have slammed me into the fence if it hadn't taken my coat first.

"...jeez, undyne."

"tryin' to help me or kill me yourself?"

papyrus was standing in the cage now, looking around anxiously.

the pattern repeated:

fast spears, blocking bones.

fast spears, blocking bones.

fast spears, blocking bone.

slow spears,

and a slide to the side to get me out of the way.

something else i haven't done in a long time: run.

with a flip, she landed directly in my path, stopping me short.

"cool flip," i turned her soul blue. "but i'm done here."

sending her into the air, i hauled ass out of there.

it didn't take long at all before i heard her giving chase.

a 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠 sounded, and soon a second pair of boots trailed behind.

barely disappearing behind a corner, i knocked into someone immediately.

".........."

"...oh."

"uh. heheh."

"heya, grillbz."

"surprise."

with a tray of spilled drinks in his hands, grillby seemed between emotions.

whatever emotion decided to shove said tray into my hands, i was thankful for.

"not complaining about a reason to stay."

"speakin' of. don't mind if i hang out here for..."

i peered from the back door into the restaurant, checking the clock beside the door.

"couple more hours, do you?"

——

having a short break from dish-duty.

grillby's taking five as well, so we're chilling in the back.

the floor's pretty nice here, y'know.

still sitting on the floor, grillby opened the fridge.

on the door of the fridge was a bottle of ketchup.

he tossed it my way.

opening a cabinet with an ungodly amount of identical bottles to the one he'd just handed me, grillby replaced the one in the fridge.

"even after all this time, huh?"

"....."

"yeah. 'preciate it, even if i'm not around here as often as i used to be."

"........"

"guess i do. hell of a day."

"...?"

"undyne. it's that magic demonstration thing i was talking about yesterday."

"...?"

"when i accidentally blew up your phone with spelling mistakes at three am before getting it out properly?"

"....."

"........"

"sorry."

"to be fair... you didn't have to actually 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥 to me."

"...."

"i know you do."

"......"

"that 𝗶𝘀 fair. just because you always respond doesn't mean i can't message you at stupid times."

"that could have been the one time you decided to ignore me, for all i knew."

"...."

"i know."

"but, maybe you should."

"paps is right about me being a terrible influence."

i took a swig from the ketchup bottle.

oh, how i've missed refrigerated ketchup from here.

".........."

"well now i'm finishing the thing right now, just because you said that."

grillby did something as close as he could to a rolling of his eyes dramatically.

he pat my shoulder and rose from the floor beside me.

with his thumb, grillby pointed towards the door that opens back into the restaurant behind the counter.

"alright. i'll be back on duty in a sec too, just gonna write in the journal a bit more. 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 a good opportunity to update it, y'know?"

with a little all-too-familiar head shake resulting from my pun, he was back to work.

——

mid-convo, i ducked under the bar.

the familiar thumps of a certain someone's pair of boots stepped their way into the establishment.

"SANS?"

"SAAANS?"

out of ritual, grillby parked himself next to me inconspicuously.

"........"

"GOOD AFTERNOON TO YOU TOO, GRILLBY."

"HAS SANS COME BY?"

first, the silence of a real moment of consideration.

then, a little extra silence i'm certain grillby did just to make me more anxious.

finally, the silence of his actual response to papyrus.

"...."

"IF YOU SEE HIM, CAN YOU LET HIM KNOW THAT I HAVE HIS JACKET, AND THAT I'D LIKE TO TAKE HIM HOME? IT'S GETTING COLD LATER..."

"....."

effortlessly lifting me up by the collar of my shirt, (twice in the same day, wow) grillby raised me from behind the counter.

"traitorrrr."

"GRILLBY?! YOU WERE HIDING HIM??"

over the counter and to papyrus i was passed.

"not the first time."

"HOW MANY TIMES HAS THIS HAPPENED?"

"......."

"I CAN'T BELIEVE EITHER OF YOU!!"

"REALLY, TO THINK THAT YOU'VE BEEN ENABLING HIS BEHAVIOR ALL THIS TIME, GRILLBY..."

whatever he was about to say next was cut off by a look out the window.

then another.

papyrus crawled across a booth to get a closer look.

peering into the glass beside him, it took me a moment to realize what i was supposed to be seeing.

"well hot damn."

"cold damn, more accurately."

"IT'S FINALLY SNOWING!!!!!!"

basically skipping, papyrus tossed my jacket at me and bolted out the door.

——

didn't snow as much as he'd like, but snow's snow.

as for me...

can't say undyne's method completely didn't work.

this little screen thing was even green for a few hours.

yellow again now.

though, i don't feel like death.

i take that back.

i absolutely 𝗱𝗼 feel like death.

but not 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 death.

just...

don't think i wanna move at all for the next week.

...

who's demonstration is tomorrow?

......

i'll.. move a 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦.

[emojellyace08]

Hiya been long time no ask and I am sure I gonna be gone for a long time since my college day gonna start on Monday huhuh but I still look and heart around in tumblr.

So here a requesti, since today update of lookism we been granted by ptj of Gun on with bath towel. "I just thought damn does abs and muscles". I am curious what is the headcannon of y/n being muscle enthusiasts.

Basically they are a character of (Dumbbell Nan Kilo Moteru?) Name Souryuuin Akemi.

(Bet Gun recuirt her as his assistant and tracker of his health diet and muscle density lol)

Gun Park x Female! Reader (Do you want to see it closer?)

A/N: SHEESH This is actually a great idea xD. Since you asked for some somewhat spicy Gun x reader, I'm going to give you some and Idk if this can satisfy you but I hope you still like it and sorry for the late reply (good luck on your college day!) Genre: somewhere between fluff and slight lemon (not too explicit) Slight warnings: slight nsfw post reader is female (and is in an established relationship ; character x reader)

It's been months since you have seen your boyfriend. You tried to contact him but you've received voice mails instead which can be irritating for your part. You've been really worried about him getting into crazy shit again. No video calls, no messages, heck you haven't even received a single greeting like "hello" or "good morning". It really makes you worried a lot about Gun. You know he's strong. You know that he's a one man circle, but your girlfriend instincts always gets the better of you. You want to convince him to quit his job since it might put him more into potential danger in the future, but getting to know him better made you realize that even he is a masochist. He really has the passion and lust for fighting so you couldn't really stop him no matter how times you wanted to. It can also ignite a really bad argument so it's better if you just let him be. But he promised that he will take care of himself though.

It was 8 in the morning when you woke up early again in your gloomy and dark apartment. You encouraged yourself to slump yourself on the cozy and soft bed of yours. But no matter how many efforts you tried you thinking about that bastard again just makes you groan, you're craving for caffeine again.

Fixing the blinds, you winced as the sunlight made it's way to shine your eyes. It's not particularly sunny, but the sky and atmosphere is not too dreadful either. In fact it's the perfect weather for you. You got up to prepare and fix the coffee mixer and make your drink. It took minutes of you tapping your finger on the marble table humming your favorite song while you watch the machine, you being lost at your own thoughts. After minutes, you were mixing the hot drink on your mug before you heard the door open, you seeing your mentally exhausted boyfriend. Fucking bastard didn't even knocked on the door.

"Where have you been?" you asked in a concerned tone as he focuses his attention on you making eye contact. His black sclera were still intimidating to look at, but they weren't exactly too threatening. "Business" he bluntly replied not intentionally being rude, Gun was just like that all the time. You were about to ask more questions before he approached you while hugging you back and leaving wet pecks on your neck while caressingly touching your waist pulling you closer to him. "I'm sorry that I don't have time for you." "Hmm." you hummed as you drank the mix of sweet and bitter mixture. "You're not angry?" "Umm no? Why would I? It's your job to work for Charles." you playfully denied as he pulled you even closer, he knows that you're lying behind that pretty face but he understands and you have a point though. And hearing that old man's name really pisses him off at some point, but it coming from your pleasant voice makes him a bit calmer. "I'm going to take a shower" he mumbled as he buries his face on you even more. "Aren't you tired?" you asked as he chuckled, "Never have been."

Tapping your shoulder you watched him as he walked on the corridor and into your shared bedroom. It's his daily routine for him to go home and wash up first before cuddling and chatting with you on the bed. You went inside to prepare his clothes before seeing your half naked boyfriend, his scars showing up into his back but you couldn't care less. In your eyes, he's perfect.

"Looking at something?" you snapped at your own thoughts as you can see Gun's teasing grin as you laughed at him, your voice being gentle with a mix of tiredness on it. "Yeah" "You want to see it closer?" he teased you even more as you approached him as you hugged him from the back, you being obviously smaller than him. "You still look pretty even if you got lots of scars." "I know." he replied as you stayed like this, cuddling with him for a few minutes. He turned around to face you as he leaned in to give you a kiss, your tongue getting entangled from each other. The kiss wasn't really aggressive, but the way his tongue gently danced with yours is enough to make your underwear wet again. His hands were travelling to your face, slowly making it's way to your waist. Your clumsy ones are doing the same, it's playfully teasing his chest up into his abs. You weren't exactly that person who only relies on looks. But seeing your boyfriend properly taking care of his health makes you appreciate the effort he's doing to get stronger.

"Wow, you're getting more sturdy." you half joked as your eyes trailed down to his body. It wasn't necessarily in a lewd way, but it's just you being appreciative. And with this, Gun can't help but to be proud of himself. He managed to make himself physically pleasing so you also don't have to worry about his health. "Do you want to go to the gym tomorrow?" he asked as he leans closer to you with his hands still clinging on your waist. "Hmm... Sure, I got nothing else to do and it's best if we can check our BMI together." you liked his offer as both of your mouth curl into a smile as he pecks your soft cheeks making you chuckle. You got to enjoy your loves holding and kissing you like this.

A/N: Sorry if this is not up for your standards and it's so late (I'm doing my homework while procrastinating lol :)

[intimidating-fettuccine]

headcanons of Y/N helping Jason learn to cook (or well, improve his cooking skills)

Jason, for a very long time at the start of your relationship, did not want you to know that he can't cook. He can make anything sweet just fine, and so he would always make you deliciously sweet things, in the hopes that you would just never discover that whenever he tries to make regular food it comes out tasting like someone is trying to poison you. Of course, despite his best efforts you ended up discovering his inability to cook things, having walked in on one of his attempted cooking sessions in which he was trying to make something delicious for his often fearful taste testers LJ and Candy. After even just smelling the horror that was his failed homemade cooking, you had offered to try and teach him yourself.

He had been nervous to accept for a few reasons, the first being he didn't want to embarrass himself and/or disappoint you, and the second being that he had always insisted he had to learn how to do it himself. He had never asked for help in learning before, and his pride was getting in the way, but with how eager you seemed about the idea of teaching him, he didn't have the heart to say no. You take it slow, teaching him things like knife skills, and basic food safety stuff, to always keep his workspace tidy, and he absorbs all of that information well. It's... When you actually start trying to cook that he, well... Really goes off the rails. Jason seems to have convinced himself that he adds improv to everything and his own twist, that it'll come out even better because it has his wonderful signature flare, which is why everything comes out so inedible. 

Whenever you turn your back for a second, his natural chaos kicks in. You tell him to gently stir something about twenty times, and he's basically whipping it like egg yolks, going extremely fast and rough, which all but destroys whatever he was trying to be gentle with. You tell him to just watch the pot while you go get a drink, and he's adding like a cup of salt and tablespoons upon tablespoons of various spices to try and jazz up the flavor. At one point he thought it would be smart to add two cups of flour to an omelet that very much could not handle that much flour, along with some cajun seasoning and extra salt, and despite all of that and it being the grossest textured omelet you've ever seen, I hate to say that was the most edible thing so far. You always end up lecturing him and telling him that stuff isn't necessary, and he feels awful but something in him just can't help it.

Eventually, with you never removing your eyes from him for even a second, you're able to get him to start following directions. He still overdoes things a little bit (stirring a bit too long, browning a little too much, adding a bit more seasoning than needed), but his food is starting to at the very least look edible. When he offers it up to LJ and Candy (Jason refused to let you try anything that could be less than perfect), they confirm it is edible, but not really tasty. It doesn't make them want to die or violently throw up for hours though, so he considers it a success. You get him to a point where things aren't really yummy, but they don't make people want to leave the room as soon as they smell it. That's all for naught, though, because once he's cooking alone again he reverts right back to his old ways with nobody there to stop him. It's humorous to watch, especially when he gives you that flustered, shameful look full of self-disappointment, but in time I think you could get him to a somewhat stable, decent level of cooking. Maybe in a year or two. He's very apologetic and sorry, and will always spoil you afterward for putting up with him. 

[ghostlynachopanda]

Solution

a/n: I'm drowning in schoolwork. anyways,, you guys see lady Nagant?? soo happy she's finally animated. but yeah, lady Nagant and vigilante deku is the only good thing from this week. here's the last part pals, enjoy :)

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

words: 3.7k

~~~

To say Wednesday was pissed would be an understatement. Watching Enid force you to talk to others was infuriating, even more so when you actually got along with them. Erebus started following Wednesday about a week ago after you walked out on her. He's there when it starts to get dark, when she's alone, and she isn't quite sure how to feel. He never bothers her, curling himself around her legs in a protective manner or falling into step next to her when she sneaks out. She wasn't sure what bothered her so much until she realized the warmth he gives off could've been yours. The problem was you aren't there with him. You're a coward. 

Wednesday wants to despise you for what you were doing. She desperately wants to make you pay for what you've done, for what you're not doing, and for what you're making her feel. She wants you to suffer in the worst way possible by her hands. Wednesday isn't sure if she can do that though, so she'll settle with acting like she hates you. Of course, Wednesday talks to Erebus about a lot of things. The most common topic seems to be you, and what you're doing to her. What Wednesday doesn't know is Erebus tells you everything.

You had no idea what would've happened when you walked out of Wednesday's dorm room. You expected to walk away and go back to how things were before you met them. Not expecting Wednesday to start throwing glares at you and actively avoid you. You also weren't expecting Enid to get even more persistent with hanging out, this time forcing you to hang out with her friends too. Enid didn't force you to talk to anyone though, just not wanting you to be alone. For her sake, you put in slight effort into the friendships. 

Enid was elated when you started talking to her. Though kind of uncommon, you were making an effort and that was enough for her. Enid had no problem filling the silence whenever you two would hang out, she seemed to always have something to talk about. She also had picked up a habit of blurting things out, random things that pop into her head at the most random times. You never minded though, that made things entertaining. It was funny to hear her say what she's craving for an afternoon snack when she was talking about nail polish just moments before. 

You two were hanging out in the quad after classes were done for the day. She was talking about an argument that happened between her and Bianca. Enid suddenly went quiet, appearing to be lost in thought. "So, you gonna tell me what happened with Wednesday that night?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

"Why do you ask?" you responded with a question of your own. Not liking where this was going. 

"Wednesday has been more," she paused for a moment "murder-y and gloomier than usual. A girl can only put up with so much, ya know?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize-" she cut you off

"There's no need to apologize. I just wanna know what happened to see if I can get her to stop threatening me every 5 minutes." Enid didn't care about the threats, long grown used to them by now. 

She watched you closely, her eyes now almost as observant as Wednesday's. You were tenser than you were when she was talking about that fight with Bianca, a hint that things obviously didn't end well. Before you got the chance to answer she added, "Besides, you two were almost attached at the hip. She spent, like, all her free time with you. And, she wasn't bothered by you at all. Which is amazing by the way, 'cause she's bothered by like everyone." 

"Oh," you nervously chuckled "yeah, well, nothing really happened. We talked and I left." 

"That's it?" she inquired.

"Yeah, pretty much," you stated.

"Man, maybe something happened with her family then. Oh, can I ask why, uhh,, what's the wolf's name? The big one that's always with Wednesday." 

"Erebus?"

"Yeah! That's the one! Anyways, can I ask why he's been with Wednesday so much? He hardly pays any attention to me when he's in the dorm" she pouted slightly.

"Don't worry about that. He just really likes Wednesday and throws a fit when I tell him no. I just let him go be with Wednesday whenever he wants." you explained, not wanting her to know you send him to keep her safe. You also didn't want Erebus' actions to offend her.

"Okay, yeah, that makes sense," she looks at you pointedly "send Tengoku over sometime. I'd love to hang out with him again, I'll even take him on some walks!" she exclaimed, her tone going from demanding to excited. It made you chuckle.

"Of course, I'm sure he'd love to hang out with you again. Maybe if Thing isn't too bothered you can bring him along too," you said softly, excited by the idea.

After that, the conversation goes back to being one-sided, but completely comfortable. 10 minutes pass and Enid claims she needs to go do some homework. A believable excuse on her part, so when she sees you walk out of the quad she starts to talk to her shared dorm. Enid is going to devise a plan to get you and Wednesday to talk to each other again. It might just be the last thing she does since Wednesday might actually kill her for meddling in her business, but anything is better than this. 

------

Enid is happy to play detective and be a mastermind. Enid's walk to the dorm is short, she needs to know more about what happened. Once she gets there she, not so gently, pushes the door open. Wednesday is sitting at her desk staring at an empty page in her typewriter. Enid decides to act unconcerned, asking her roommate, "Writer's block?"

"No, just starting a fresh page" Wednesday replies with an irritated tone, turning to look at Enid. Wednesday's eyes are sharp, if looks could kill Enid would have died multiple times. Enid decides to ignore the look, "Say, what happened that night?" Wednesday sat up a little straighter, tensing.

"What are you referring to?" There's only a slight bite to her words, it's said ever so slightly quieter than the last. 

"Come on, Wednesday. Our favorite person! The only one in school who can give us our little furry friends. Although, 'little' might be the wrong word since they're both freaking huge-"

"I'm aware of who you're talking about and what you're talking about. I want to know why," Wednesday says, words sharper than her favorite knife. 

"Just curious if you're the reason my fav person is all sad," that confuses Wednesday, lots of questions filling her head. You're sad? Why are you Enid's favorite person? Did something happen while she wasn't looking? Wednesday slightly shook her head to clear her thoughts before replying, "Good, now why would that have anything to do with me? You're interrupting my writing time-"

"I can't seem to shake'm out of it. I'm just worried about my friend, that's all." Enid lied through her teeth.

"It's a good thing your 'favorite' person is suffering. Now, would you shut up so-"

"So it's your fault," Enid said accusingly. 

"It would be a fantastic thing if it was," Wednesday replied evenly, giving up on shaking her roommate's attention. Enid saw her roommate turn to put her typewriter away, a lengthy process Wednesday made look easy. While Wednesday was busy, Enid took a quick look at Thing. Sending him a look to see if he could possibly help her out, he shallowly bowed, trying to be discrete in his desire to help out. 

A small, victorious smile pulled at Enid's lips; she could get the info she wanted now. Quickly wiping the smile off of her face when Wednesday turned around, still sitting in her desk chair. "Roomie, tell me what happened. I wanna know everything," Enid inquired, Wednesday didn't seem as murderous this time. 

"Nothing happened," Wednesday said, back to her monotone voice. Thing crawled his way over to Wednesday's desk, catching her attention and making her look at him in her peripheral. Thing started signing, for both roommates to see. Enid piped up before Wednesday could.

"Yeah, you don't go from being with each other all the time to not, something had to have happened. Just tell us what happened so we can figure it out." Both Enid and Thing looking at Wednesday expectantly. 

"I hate repeating myself, but I'm aware you're a little slow," Wednesday said, offending Enid. "nothing happened. We had a conversation and when it ended she left." Enid knew there was something else, she knew the conversation didn't end the way Wednesday wanted but she needed Wednesday to say it herself. 

"So, what you're telling me is that our resident shadow user just decided not to speak to you, out of nowhere? Yeah, no, I don’t believe that." Enid was starting to get mad, she didn't want to keep asking questions.

"What's not to believe-" Wednesday gets cut off.

"Shade wouldn't do that without a reason-" Enid gets cut off this time.

"Shade?" Wednesday asks, when did Enid give you a nickname? Why did you let her? And why something as stupid as that?

"Yeah, Shade said it was cute so I kept it," Enid shook her head and stared pointedly at Wednesday. "Stop avoiding the question, something happened and I want to know what you did." 

"Are you going to make me repeat myself for a third time?" Wednesday said in a low, threatening tone.

An exasperated huff left Enid's lips, looks like she'll have to play dirty this time. "Fine, I just wanted to try to help out my two fav people but if you want to be alone that's fine." Enid turned, walking to the door. "I don't exactly feel like being around someone willing to hurt my friends anyway," Enid said angrily, slamming the door on her way out.

Wednesday turned to look at Thing, but he wasn't on her desk anymore. She looked around the room to spot him with no luck, turning to face the big window to take some calming breaths. She realized something at that moment, it’s cold. She felt her eyes start to sting and that's when Erebus crawled out from under her bed. She didn't have the energy to greet him though, her mind has been running this past week causing her to lose sleep. 

Wednesday didn't need to say anything, Erebus slowly walked over and laid his head in her lap. A comforting gesture, she hated the fact she unconsciously ran her fingers through his fur. Perhaps I'll speak to Enid tomorrow and maybe Shade too. "Erebus, do you think it would be a good idea to speak to Shade?" Wednesday asked, not expecting an answer. But when he nodded his head slightly another question popped into her head, "Do you think she'd listen to what I have to say this time?" 

She saw him close his eyes, unsure if he was falling asleep or thinking. Continuing to thread her fingers through his fur while she waited, comfortable in the silence of the room. A few minutes pass, and the quiet growl and small nod Erebus made disturbed the still air. A weight settled on her chest. What if you don't listen though? Erebus knows you better than anyone else she's met. Maybe, just maybe, he's right...

------

The quad had a couple of students in it, not quiet but not loud either. Last night, Erebus told you Wednesday wanted to talk to you. He didn't say about what, and that made you anxious. You haven't been actively avoiding her, but now you’re considering it. Enid had been attached to you all day, hanging out with you more often than she did before. Maybe Wednesday's threats got to be too much? What did Wednesday say to Enid? Is Enid okay- you’re thoughts are cut off by someone standing across from you. 

"Is this seat taken?" You look up to find Bianca. You're unsure if she had resolved her issues with Enid yet. Sure, you've spoken to her a handful of times, but what would happen if Enid shows up and they're still mad at each other? 

"No," the words come out before you reached a decision. You see something akin to satisfaction ghost across her features as she sits down across the table. It was weird, you don't know why she wanted to sit here; multiple tables are free since it's an off period for some students it's unlikely there will be more coming. She doesn't say anything, just looking at you. You've been scrutinized before, mostly by Enid and Wednesday, but this was different. You feel the need to make conversation. 

"Your, uh, eyes are very pretty." a strong urge to cringe comes. That’s not how you're supposed to break the awkward silence. How is she even supposed to respond to that? 

"Thank you, your eyes are pretty too," Bianca replied coolly, causing your cheeks to warm from embarrassment. That's when Wednesday walked in, immediately taking notice of the two of you alone at a table. Wednesday noticed your tinted cheeks, watching as you bashfully raised a hand to rub the back of your neck; something she learned you do to draw attention away from your facial features, usually when you’re embarrassed about something.

Wednesday felt the urge to walk over and take you from her, but she also had the urge to turn around and walk out. Both were in a battle causing her to be stuck in place, watching in horror as the two of you conversed easily. It makes her feel nauseous, an uneasy feeling settling on her chest. Why are you talking to her? Why does the conversation flow so easily? What is it about her that makes you speak so freely? Why can't you just- her thoughts are cut short by a nudge on her back.

Whipping her head around to see Erebus, half of him coming out of a shadow from the hallway. He nudged her again, more forceful with a growl that was loud enough to catch your attention. Swiftly turning your head to see what happened, seeing Erebus bare his teeth on Wednesday caused concern. Without thinking, you excused yourself and walked over to the pair. Completely missing the smirk Bianca wore and the nod she sent a hiding Enid.

"What are you doing?" a scolding question directed entirely at the wolf.

Wednesday froze, you were finally close enough that she could feel your body warmth. Something she didn't know she craved. Wednesday cleared her throat, "Everything is fine," Erebus growled again, his eyes moving back to Wednesday. A threatening look adorned his features, a look that would send most people running.

"Clearly not. I'm so sorry Wednesday, I didn’t think he'd act out like this." you refuted, stepping between them. Your frame almost completely obstructing his view of her, but he still didn’t take his eyes off her. You don’t know what's happening, Erebus wants something from Wednesday but you don’t know what it is.

Erebus and Wednesday seem to be having a staring contest around your figure, neither of them backing down. Erebus replaced his growl with a lower, more threatening one; showing even more of his teeth with his ears back. Wednesday knows he won't do anything to harm her, even if he tried you were here and would put a stop to it. She was sure you'd never let harm come to her in your presence. Wednesday didn't want to back down, but she didn't want you two to fight, "I need to speak to you,"

Erebus finally stopped his aggressive behavior, calming down enough to listen to the small conversation. You turned your head to look at her, caught off guard by what she had said and how Erebus was acting. Surprised written all across your face, "Oh, are you sure?" Wednesday wanted to slap you.

"Yes, I would prefer this conversation in private. Now, come with me," she said, making Erebus completely calm down and retreat back into the shadow. She didn’t give you a chance to reply before she grabbed your wrist and started dragging you in the direction of the woods. Oh boy, you're in trouble.

------

During the walk to Wednesday's destination, you zoned out. Not exactly caring where she was taking you, just eager to get this conversation over with. You hadn't realized you reached her destination until she let go of your wrist. This whole situation makes your stomach feel like it's doing flips.

"Run away again and I'll torture you in the worst way possible," she started, threats back in full swing.

"I wouldn't expect any less," you replied.

Wednesday took a breath to calm her racing heart. The uneasy feeling settled in her stomach again, but you piped in before she could. "What do you want from me?"

She hates that question, she knows all you want is honesty. Wednesday is worried her honesty would scare you away, just like last time. Her pondering is broken by your next words, "Remember, silence is an answer too."

"I want you to stop being a coward," she speaks quickly, rushing to get it out.

"A coward?" you chuckle humorlessly. "I'm afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Addams" venom laced in your words.

"Putting others before yourself is cowardly. Stop caring about how you'll affect others, and stop making decisions for others," she said, venom is thrown right back at you.

"Listen, I didn’t come out here to argue with you" you sigh, annoyed with how this conversation is going.

"Then stop arguing and just listen to what I have to say," she replies just as annoyed.

"Fine, but do you really think I see things like that?" you asked incredulously

"No, but you should."

"Why?"

"It's ridiculous, a complete waste of time and energy," she explained as if it was the easiest thing.

"Aren't you putting me before you right now? You seemed more concerned for my feelings over anything else," you said, wanting to see if you could get to the root of why she was here.

"No, I'm simply acting to get what I want," she responded, voice even.

"And what is it exactly that you want?"

"From my understanding of my classmates, for some odd reason, enjoy being around you. They might not get the warmth scale you have, but they enjoy your presence. Enid is a prime example, she's been grossly more positive after meeting you." that made you pause. You hadn't really been paying much attention to the others. More focused on keeping to yourself. You figured Enid was the same, just accommodating your silence.

"Is that true?" you asked, not believing what she said.

"I don't lie unless it's for personal gain. Another example would be earlier, Bianca sat with you rather than at one of the empty tables." you feel the need to sit down. This new information has your head spinning.

"Is it true for you?" you can't keep the hopefulness out of your voice. It's quiet, one of the softest things Wednesday has ever heard. But it made her pause, should she tell the truth? Erebus said you would listen this time.

"Yes, not once have I been tired of you." shock covers your features before joy does, all muted but it's there. Wednesday wouldn’t say, but she likes the look of joy on your face; especially when she's the reason. That same despondent look taints your face, the same one you gave her when you worked on the project together for the first time.

"Has it affected you?" you asked cautiously as if you were afraid of the answer. Wednesday isn't sure what you're referring to, but her answer will be the same regardless.

"Not in the way you think,"

"How so?" you're worried now, all your prior happiness is completely gone. Replaced with worry for Wednesday. Unintentionally taking a step back, as if physical distance will give back the warmth you stole. There are a couple things Wednesday absolutely despises, one of them is talking about her feelings, especially to someone alive and responsive.

"In the beginning it was irritating, not knowing what I was feeling. It has nothing to do with your 'lack of warmth'," she takes a step calculated step toward you. "I still don't know what the feeling is, but the one that came when you walked away was worse. I know, for certain, as long as it's you I won't mind." she finishes, taking that last step into your personal space. Your eyes are frantically searching hers, looking for a hint that she's lying.

Wednesday's heartbeat is loud, silencing the sound of rustling leaves. She waits, hoping she said the right thing. It takes a couple moments for your face to relax, looking at her with the softest eyes to date. She releases a breath she didn't know she was holding. The relief you feel at her words is enough to make you feel like crying; it comes crashing down on you but also lifts a weight off your chest.

"Thank you, Wednesday." The words are breathy, soft, and so quiet Wednesday almost didn’t hear. These words were the only ones you were able to get out. Wednesday didn’t need words to understand, she felt the same relief. She's relieved to finally be able to be in your presence, without interruptions or distracting thoughts. She's relieved that you didn't walk away, relieved Erebus was right.

"Will you sit here with me? I don't want to go back just yet," you said, looking down at your shoes, cheeks painted a pretty red. Wednesday didn't need to think before answering, "Of course,"

Settling down on the grass, sitting close enough that your fingers almost brush. Close enough to feel the body warmth from the other. A quiet, comfortable air surrounds the two of you; as if you're in your own little bubble. Soaking in one another's presence, looking forward to more moments like these. Wednesday breaks the silence, her words somehow making the moment more emotional,

"You're warm."

tags: @alexkolax @rainbow-love4ever @o638

[fenny-self-ships]

Hiiiiiiiii

Idk if you’re comfortable with hurt/comfort, but if you are I got a request for you! Lol

Basically, the idea is headcanons (or writing) of Jafar with an S/O that suffered SEVERE narcissistic abuse, and him quickly dealing just how much damage behaviors like his can cause. Like, he has to calm them down from a ptsd flashback, and they end up saying something about the “mind games” they were always playing, and how they were always on eggshells, and he’s basically over here like “ohhhh fuk…I do that kind of thing to people…”

Ooh some hurt comfort?? Coming right up 👀

I'm by no means an expert on this topic, so I'll stick with headcannons for now, but if you like 'em I'm more than open to writing a full imagine in future!!

Cracks my knuckles

Jafar with an abused S/O~!

Given the way he speaks, I wouldn't be surprised if it was something he said that triggered the unfortunate episode

A nasty, condescending comment about a hobby of yours, a hissing remark correcting your behaviour, or even deliberately misconstruing something you've said -- Incredibly self-serving, of course, but he's a master manipulator, and can very easily play the victim in even the tiniest arguments

Nothing could prepare him, however, for the sudden fit of anxiety and terror his words would induce

He is WOEFULLY uneducated on such things, and would regrettably have absolutely zero clue how to approach the situation -- He'd more than likely just freeze, simply staring down at you as you crumble

Once he's snapped out of his stupor, his first instinct would be to remove himself from the situation

He's clearly upset you, and he'd rather die than debase himself by admitting to his own wrongs. What a PATHETIC move that would be, huh?? (/sar)

Perhaps not the greatest instinct, but he'd give you time to cool off, to return to yourself, before slinking back in to discuss what caused your 'hysteria' (🙄🙄)

Likely with some warm tea to show in the smallest sense that he does actually CARE about you. It's not much, but it might be enough to get you talking

He would have fully intended to make a half-assed attempt at listening, followed by an empty promise to 'do better' and some kisses to top it off, but, in true Jafar fashion, his interest is piqued when you start describing the shit that he is oh so good at

The insufferable superiority complex, the 'do-no-wrong' mentality, the near constant mind games, manipulation and victimisation -- every single experience you describe he resonates with far too much

He hasn't had much experience with guilt, but you're his beloved. He cares about you. The sickly feeling creeps, resting heavier and heavier on his shoulders the more you manage to tell him

Truly an 'ohhhh fuck... I do that shit' moment if there ever was one

It's become second nature to him, almost a survival tactic -- not any excuse for his behaviour, of course, but he rarely gives a second thought to how awful the effects can be

He hates that it was you who had to tell him. He's supposed to be your biggest supporter, not your worst enemy

His illusion of perfection is shattered -- You aren't lucky to be with him, HE'S lucky you've put up with his disposition for as long as you have. He feels terrible.

All at once, you're wrapped up in a hug. Physical touch isn't his forte, but when you're as bad at apologies as he is, sometimes you have to compromise

This may be the first time you've ever heard a genuine 'sorry' from him

He will make an effort. Not to better himself as a whole, hell no, but to be better for you. The last thing he'd want to do is hurt you the way you've been hurt before. That'd be the WORST thing for his overinflated ego.

He's trying <3

[koalas-koalas-everywhere]

*runs into stage at full speed and almost overshoots the mic, skidding back to be able to grab it* but do we realize that Nika form isn't gear 5??? I mean, besides the fact that we know that the technical term is "awakening". All the previous gears aren't so much unlocked by Luffy (besides the fact that both gears 4 depend on him """unlocking""" haki) but something he develops through his own ingenuity? Gear 1 is him manipulating his muscles into pumping his blood faster and more strongly through his body, increasing his power — he's not just making himself hotter through force of will. Gear 2 isn't him increasing his body mass (as a paramecia, he wouldn't have been able to do it, although now we know he's a zoan type), it's him literally blowing air into his body to inflate it. Same thing goes for boundman, a form reinforced by haki mixed with rubber, which is so impressive when you think about it. Snakeman is such incredible control over his body that he can change the direction of his punches several times. I cannot overstate that these aren't forms in the way Chopper's Points are forms — not that he didn't achieve four to five extra forms through ingenuity, too, with his medical knowledge, but there's a difference between unlocking them (they always existed, he just needed to discover them) and developing them. Ultimately, the rumble balls don't elongate his horns or arms or make his hair grow, they allow Chopper to will them to do that, in the same way that, once Luffy awakens his fruit, he can tap into it, even if it takes some effort.

That's why we can't compare "gear 5" with the other gears when it comes to the damage they are/might be doing to Luffy's body (post-time skip, they have little to no effect one him, so he might have become strong enough to handle them... in the same way he's strong enough to rip the mast out of the ship and carry it up a whale). With all his other gears, Luffy's forcing his body to do unnatural things and putting it under enormous strain (isn't blowing air into your bloodstream supposed to give you a heart attack???). Meanwhile, we should look at g5 like we do Chopper's kaiju form, or Doflamingo turning buildings into strings, or Katakuri turning everything into mochi — extremely draining, especially at first, but in the same way a muscle will struggle with a certain weight at first but get better once you've trained it. When he says, "beat loudly, heart!" or "hit that beat!", it's not in response to it stopping, but to it beating normally instead of *battery solo*, aka it's his way of activating his Nika form. It didn't actually kill him, and if it did, it would have been from exhaustion, not from, say, wearing his veins thin and overtaxing his heart because he's trying to push gallons at the speed he's usually circulating liters.

And since I'm talking about his Nika form — it's interesting that while he's using it, he seems to be less affected by haki? Like, being hit with haki by Sanji and Katakuri in Whole Cake Island made him loose a tooth, both times, when we know his bones have to be rubber too or the rest of it wouldn't work. Still, when hit by haki, they react like they're normal. Meanwhile, while it's clear that it causes him pain, he still reacts as if he was rubber, his face molding itself to Kaido's club. I have no idea what that means, I'm just bringing it up.

Also, since I believe that Luffy's gears are not zoan type forms, that means that he was scammed out of either a form or two — compare to Chopper who has his original reindeer form, a middle point (his usual form) and a "full human" form, which he could always access, even without his rumble balls (can you imagine Chopper awakening his df and turning into like. a dude), or Rob Lucci who has a human form, a beast form, and a halfway point (I'm more willing to consider his slimmer, faster point as a form, unlike Luffy's gears, because, while he uses a technique called Life Return to achieve it, that's just another words for extreme control of his body, meaning he's still willing it to happen, like how Chopper needs rumble balls to control his additional forms at first, but eventually develops enough control to access them on his own. Luffy, outside of Nika form, can't will his fist into becoming bigger, he has to blow air into it). Luffy only has his usual rubber form and his awakened Nika form. Again, compare to Lucci, whose awakened form isn't actually a full leopard (that's his beast form) but a powered-up version of his halfway point, Nika isn't the "full" form of Luffy's df (and that awakened zoan types don't become a fuller version of their model in general, and that Chopper's awakening is more likely to be a powered up version of Brain Point). So there's a chance Luffy has a full-human form (no rubber) and a depowered Nika form (rubber, white haired, but without a lot of his abilities like flying and turning other stuff into rubber).

Also, why can he, as a zoan type, turn other things into rubber, when that's supposed to be a paramecia and probably logia type thing? I mean, not that we're ever told that, directly, but I don't see Rob Lucci turning people and stuff into leopards— *yelps* *exits left, pursued by Kuma*

[evilichu]

i got to document a whole splitting episode. you can even see the point where i started getting riled up. damn. bitches be crazy (bitches is me)

you:

i don't know how to feel about you. i look inside and there's anger, fear, love, even attraction still. but which one of them is the appropriate response? which one is the way to go, which one is the least mentally ill?

we're friends, aren't we?

everyone tells me that being friends after a breakup is impossible. but i knew that if there is someone in the world that i would fight for to make it work, that would be you. so now, when i see you put no effort in our friendship i wonder if it's all my fault.

am i expecting too much? is it because my feelings for you are stronger than yours? am i splitting on you? am i victimizing myself of are you actually forgetting that i exist?

and there's the other side— the one that tells me you're a piece of shit. you're so focused on your own little world that you forget that i exist. you're selfish. you don't care that i had to put all my feelings aside to be your fucking friend. you don't give a shit if we don't talk for days, weeks, maybe even forever. you don't put time and effort into friendships, you let them die and then you excuse yourself "oh we just drifted apart", "i was just too busy". and that's what you're doing to me.

i'm so fucking angry at you. because you keep fucking promising things. and i hold onto them. you said we were going to be friends, and that you weren't going to leave me. but you're leaving now and i can't do anything. you have no idea how much it hurts not being worth staying.

why are you doing this to me all over again?

i've started being dry when you do text me. i'm sure you've noticed, but you're not gonna ask if there's anything wrong. you send me memes on ig and my blood boils whenever your name pops up. what a shallow way to keep in touch. that means nothing to me.

i wish i could say something. i don't even want to beg anymore. just let you know that when people ask about us, you're not allowed to say we drifted apart. tell them you didn't care enough to talk to me. tell them i wasn't worth the effort.

[anyroads]

This collection of articles on Long Covid popped up in my browser this morning. Please read at least one of them.

I don't even know where to start putting all the frustration and anxiety caused by knowing how much vulnerable people and disability rights activists begged everyone not to forget them when Covid protections started getting rolled back. Everyone wanted to get back to normal and didn't care who got left behind. And now people are still getting left behind because most people don't want to observe basic safety measures that would take so little effort (masking in public places like supermarkets and public transit! vaccine availability! I'll pay! just let me have one every six months!). Which means people are still getting infected with Covid, and many of them are still developing Long Covid, except now so few people are even aware of it as a condition (some have actually forgotten about it even though they heard of it a year or two ago) that many aren't seeking help, and many who do simply don't have access.

Vulnerable people are worse off now than a year ago, because most countries have rolled back the safety measures that protected them, and they aren't receiving compensation for the fact that every day life is dangerous for them. This limits access to work opportunities, not to mention social lives.

So, in the interest of general safety, here's a brief primer on how Covid works that can inform your own safety steps:

Ventilation is your friend. Covid travels best in enclosed, unventilated spaces and is the most limited in its ability to infect outdoors. Outdoor events and gatherings are safest for your vulnerable friends, as long as they aren't too crowded. If you aren't infectious then it makes little sense for you to wear a mask outdoors unless you're in a crowded space. I still see people wearing masks on the street and then taking them off when they get on a bus. This is the opposite of what you should be doing.

Masks protect others from you more than they protect you. Which means that it's not enough for vulnerable people to wear a mask in enclosed spaces to protect themselves, others need to wear one too.

Viral load is a huge factor in infection severity. The less of the virus a person is exposed to, the more of a chance their immune system stands. This idea that "you're going to get covid anyway, so you might as well not worry" doesn't take into account that viral load matters. If an infectious person wearing a face mask breathes on someone, they'll shed much less virus than if they stick their tongue in that person's mouth or even just breathe on them without a mask. Basic safety measures can make the difference between a low-level infection and hospitalization for vulnerable people. It can also make the difference between low-level long covid symptoms and debilitating long covid.

Covid has a 48 hour incubation period. This means the virus takes 48 hours to settle in before you become infectious, once you've been infected with it yourself. If you think you've been exposed, start testing and masking after this period ends (this means if you went to a party where someone had covid, you start the 48 hour count from the beginning of the party, not from the time you left).

If you think you've been exposed, test and mask for 5 days once you start to do so. If you keep testing negative and don't have symptoms at the end of the 5 days, most research indicates you're safe and not infectious. This means it's been a full week since your potential exposure because 48 hrs + 5 days = 7 days.

If you test positive, even if you have no symptoms, test, mask, and try to stay away from others until you test negative. If you test negative but have symptoms, take a few days to keep testing, masking, and stay away from others. Covid can take a few days to show up on a test even if you have symptoms.

One vaccination isn't enough. The covid vaccines are effective for 4-6 months. After that, you need a booster. Please don't tell people you're vaccinated and safe if your last vax was more than six months ago, you're misleading them, even if unintentionally. Vaccination also doesn't mean you can't still pass on the virus if you get it, even if you have no symptoms (this is true for the flu as well).

Please keep protecting vulnerable and disabled people and advocating for them. Happy disability pride month.

[uncloseted]

Hi Christina!! I know of conservative and democrat but I don’t know where my own political beliefs lay. I’m a mix of both red and blue pill. I believe in gun bans, free world class health care (im from Australia so I’ve always had that and feel so sorry for u guys that u don’t have it), I believe in welfare and upping the welfare so people can actually live of it, upping the minimum wage, helping students and those less fortunate. But I also believe in only two genders, not confusing children about genders in school, and I think people shouldn’t be allowed to transition to another gender as I believe they are severely mentally ill, and no happy person would ever want to change sex. I’m not religious btw. Idk what to call myself politically

In the US we would generally call that a moderate or someone who is center-left? You might also describe it as being socially conservative but economically liberal.

But (and my apologies for hijacking this ask, but if you've been around here for any amount of time, you knew this was coming) I want to talk a little bit about your position on the trans community. Why does maintaining a binary set of genders matter so much to you that it excludes trans people from your goal of "helping the less fortunate"? What are you afraid will happen if trans people are allowed to live the lives that are authentic to them? How are you imagining that will impact your life, and why are you so scared of that impact that you feel like it needs to be banned entirely?

Trans people aren't "severely mentally ill". They're just people who don't relate to the biopsychosocial gender role that they were assigned at birth. Trans, gender non-conforming, and intersex people have always existed. Many cultures have historically recognized more than two genders. Even within Western culture, we recognize lots of different gender expressions amongst cis people- girls can be tomboys or girly girls, women can be femme or butch, people can be androgynous... for a while, "metrosexual" was even a term for men who put effort into their appearance. All of those concepts are just gender expressions. The line at which they go from being "cis" to "trans" really just depends on culture and the person's perception of their own experience.

While there isn't a lot of research on why some people are trans and some aren't, but the research we do have seems to suggest that trans people are just born that way. It seems that being trans is, in part, genetic, and that trans people's brain structures are (on average) more similar to the brain structures of other people of the gender they identify as, rather than the gender they were assigned at birth. Being trans is not a "severe mental illness". It's just a different way of existing in the world. But even if it were a "severe mental illness" (which, again, it is not), don't mentally ill people have the right to seek treatment that will alleviate their suffering? Because that's what transitioning does. It alleviates suffering and discomfort associated with conforming to gender roles that don't align with a person's gender identity. You're right that very few people who are happy would undergo a medical transition to change their body. But the root of that unhappiness isn't mental illness. The root of that unhappiness is feeling like you don't belong in the body you have or the gender role that you've been given. And so transitioning alleviates that unhappiness.

And there's scientific data to back this idea up. Per the American Psychiatric Association, transgender individuals who transition experience long-term mental health benefits, including reduced anxiety, depression, and suicidality. And, per the Stanford University School of Medicine, trans people who start their transition as teenagers have better mental health than those who start their transition as adults. If you want trans people to "recover" from the "severe mental illness" you perceive them as having... transitioning is the way to let them do that.

But even if you don't care at all about trans people's health and wellbeing (and let's be real, I'm not convinced that you do), why should that mean that transitioning "shouldn't be allowed"? We let adults make all sorts of decisions about their bodies that they may regret down the line. For example, cis women are allowed to get boob jobs- gender affirming care within itself- regardless of whether or not they might regret it in the future. Cis women are allowed to take hormones in order to alter their menstrual cycle - often starting when they're in their teens- and we accept that they understand the long-term risks and benefits to their health that come with that choice. Why should trans people's choices about their bodies be any different? They're making informed decisions about the medical care they (and their doctors!) think will benefit them. Who are you to take that decision away from them?

There's a lot more I can say here and a lot of studies I can cite. I can tell you that every major U.S. medical and mental health organization, including the American Medical Association, the American Academy of Pediatrics, and the American Psychological Association, plus global health organizations including the Endocrine Society, the Pediatric Endocrine Society, the Society for Adolescent Health and Medicine, and the World Medical Association, and the World Health organization support access to age-appropriate, individualized medical transition for transgender youth and adults. The Australian Psychological Society is also included in that group, in case you were curious. I can tell you that the evaluations that trans people undergo in order to receive gender affirming care are extensive, even moreso for trans children. I can walk you through the reasoning behind introducing discussions of gender into classrooms early, and explain that children often have an understanding of gender by the age of three. I can talk about how the points people bring up when talking about trans people are the same ones they used about gay people fifteen years ago, and the world didn't end when countries started legalizing gay marriage. But I don't know if any of that will make a difference, because the reaction people have to trans people isn't really based in fact (no matter how much people will try to insist that it is). It's based in emotion.

So instead, I want to wrap up by asking this. How do you know that you are the gender you are? What makes you feel like a man or a woman? Are those things innate, are they cultural, are they both? How would you feel if one day, everyone started calling you a name of the opposite gender (for example, Michael instead of Michelle or vice versa) and insisting that you adopt the social roles of the opposite gender? What if you were forced into activities that you don't enjoy, with people who aren't like you? That would suck, right? You'd probably want to do whatever you could to be seen the way you feel on the inside, right? That's all trans people really want- to be seen for who they are. You can think that they're mentally ill or cringe if you want (although I really hope you won't), but don't legislate away their ability to pursue their happiness, even if you don't get why they would want that.

If you're interested in learning about trans issues more in-depth, I highly recommend ContraPoints' channel. She does a really good job of discussing transphobia and gender critical ideas while still being incredibly entertaining and fun.

[captainhysunstuff]

How do you deal with continuous, seemingly raging artblock? I want to draw but damn— my hatred towards my own art seems unforgivable. It's like whatever that was produced by my own two hands will cause carnage, a sin dissaproves by all humanity.

Hmmmmmm, I’m probably not the best person to ask for advice on overcoming art blocks unfortunately. It’s such a paaaain. I 100% relate to your feelings, and overcoming them isn’t easy.

Also, my methods aren't exactly the healthiest either, but I'll share regardless. Just keep that in mind. Ehehe.

(I'll put a Read More. It's a little lengthy.)

Whenever I find myself not drawing for a long period of time, I try to reinstate drawing as an addiction or habit. Have it become a craving that's only satisfied by actually drawing something--anything--regardless of quality. In recent days, my art block stems from a lack of being able to multitask and being unable to focus on the drawing process (being tired from work doesn't help either). Therefore, setting aside a space to draw helps, too. Putting on some music you find easy to zone out to or help your flow helps.

The hatred towards your own work is a very hard hurdle to jump. I suppose the key to this is to learn to stop criticizing every stroke you make. Be at peace that not every mark made in the moment is gonna be perfect. This is way easier said than done of course, but when I start falling into the "everything I do is crap and unworthy of eyes" hole, I try to remember that not everything I draw has to be shared. I'm not getting paid to do this (not sure about you, but that's my situation). It's a hobby, and it's supposed to be fun. It's not life or death for me if the character's eyes are skewed or their head is annoyingly asymmetrical. I'd love to be a master artist and have every work I make be a masterpiece, but I'm allowed to draw "crap." If you really feel like your subject isn't coming out the way you want, find or make references to work from and feel good about the effort you put in. There's never any shame in using references. The more you draw, the better you get. That's a straight fact. Eventually, you won't need refences, and that's a pretty cool feeling~.

Basically, if you're facing a bout of art block, try and doodle something with the mindset that it doesn't have to be perfect, and no one has to see it unless you want to share it. You could always surprise yourself and be like, "Hey, this is actually pretty cool~. Check it out!" But if that doesn't happen, it's okay. It's not a failure. Just add the drawing to the pile and bask in the satisfaction that you actually put strokes to the page, and you've gotten a bit better just by doing so. (That's kind of the point of my whiteboard to be honest~. I also use it to hold up my recent drawings or pages of my comic as a reminder to draw and of how far I've come along in whatever "project" I'm working on. It's neat to see it all hanging up in a physical space. It's a little bit guilt trippy to myself, but it does put a clear bookmark in where I am when I pick it back up, and I can edit it whenever I see something strange as I walk by it~.)

If the block stems from lack of inspiration rather than skill, try exposing yourself to some new media (a new show, movie, book, fanfiction...) or do something that stimulates your brain like going outside or talking to your friends. Don't feel like these activities are procrastinating from creating. They are necessary aspects of your life, and you shouldn't feel guilt for doing them instead of drawing something. Your art isn't made in a vacuum. While out in the "field," you may encounter something that inspires an idea that you can't wait to express through your medium ("Whoa. I HAVE to draw this when I get back!" Write it down if you can so you don't forget~). If you're really passionate about drawing, the urge will come back, and you'll find the time to try and sketch something, even if it's small. I'll admit, I don't do these life things as often as I should, so I need to take my own advice, lol. The list of new stuff I wanna check out is massive~. I am working on leaving my home and observing my surroundings more often though (Covid makes it a little difficult, but I get by).

I know your question was more about trying not to hate your own work, but I also addressed things that I felt were relevant because they make me want to draw regardless of how I feel about the end result. Try your best to not compare yourself to others too much and draw for yourself more. Acknowledge that you want to improve, but don't beat yourself up for not meeting your self-imposed standard of "perfect." So, draw with lower expectations sometimes, I guess? *shrugs and laughs* Like I said, the more you draw, the better your get. Even if you personally think it looks like crap, be like, "Yeah, I did that!" Just own it. Own your "carnage~." ^__^

(*laughs* Carnage. That's such a great way to refer to one's artwork~.)

[jasper-the-menace]

waht was nicole's first case like?

Picture it. You've come to the city for the first time in your life. Imagine a large city in a high, secondary-world fantasy setting. You've been raised by your orc family in the nearby grasslands and hills, so you're buff as shit despite being a very even three feet tall. You're not particularly studious or charismatic, but you're a little quicker on the draw than most people give you credit for.

You make your way through the city, just observing everything going on. You aren't too certain why you felt like coming to the city was a good idea, but you're a fresh-outta-the-box ranger and you're ready to get your boots muddy and learn about different parts of the world. The first thing you do is check out the jobs board, where a scrap piece of paper draws your eye. Someone recently bought a ring of waterwalking, but it compelled them to faceplant into any mud they found, and they are very concerned and are asking for anyone versed in magic items to come take a look at it.

You are not versed in magic items.

You go anyway.

Despite your orcish heritage and upbringing and unexpected muscles, you look most like a goblin. Admittedly, a surprisingly buff goblin. So the human who answers the door at the address isn't too surprised that you're in the area. You ask about the ring, they let you in and show it to you. You instantly know that something is wrong with it beyond just the compulsion to take a bath with the pigs. You're not a mage, but your dad was, so he taught you some tips and tricks that make it so even non-mages like you can begin to figure out what the hell a magic item is supposed to do. You realize that the ring was meant to do what was looked at as a downside - likely intending to kill someone by snuffing them in mud, which is a messy and undignified way to die.

You ask if you can buy the ring off of the human for your investigation. They agree, and you leave their home with ten less gold pieces and with one cursed ring.

Your next stop is the local tavern, because trouble always goes to taverns. You ask the barkeep and the waitress about magic items around the place, making it seem like you're in the market for them. They give you the usual list of places to buy magic things from - the local wizard's college, the mages' guild, the magic shop that hates them both, things like that. You instantly cross one of those off the list - a magic shop that doesn't want to get consumed by either other group wouldn't kneecap its own business like that. You haven't been in the city long enough to get a feel for the other two.

You don't need to, it turns out. As you settle down at a table, one of the other patrons - a dragonborn who is easily seven feet tall - comes to join you and offers to "hook you up" with a contact of his if you're interested in some cheap magic items. You get the gut feeling that this is a bad idea, so you promptly agree. The shady sort always know more about these things.

Late that night, you follow the dragonborn through the city. His contact, it turns out, is an elf who seems to ooze magic, though you don't know if she's affiliated with any group here. You put in a specific inquiry - boots that will make someone run faster, coming up with a story on the spot about needing to be faster to keep up with your goblin family, though you actually have no known goblin relatives outside of one of your parents - and the elf promises that she will have them for you by the next evening for a price that's honestly disrespectful to anyone who puts effort in their magic craft. You graciously thank the dragonborn and the elf for their help.

The next evening, you're in a different back alley with the dragonborn and the elf again. The elf is now holding leather boots that seem much like the cursed ring you have. You pay up and, once again, graciously thank the dragonborn and the elf. You leave the meeting spot, then duck into the shadows to trail the elf once she and the dragonborn head their separate ways.

You discover that there's a whole ass broken down warehouse where mages - mostly wizards, it seems, most of whom don't even seem old enough to have become wizards - are being compelled to create cursed magic items so that the elf can get rich quick.

Holy shit, you think, because this is some wild shit to find on your second day in the city. Who the fuck do I report this to?

You make a decision rather quickly and sneakily haul ass to find a guard. While you aren't particularly charismatic, you oil a palm and promise the guard that you'll pay him some gold if he just comes to look at what you've found, so he humors you. And is baffled to find this shit. So now the both of you are like "Holy fuck, what do we do here?" because this is hella out of your league as a generic guard dude and an out-of-towner.

You stay to keep an eye on the warehouse while the guard goes to get his boss, who you later find out is the daughter of one of the nobles of the city, and she gets this shit shut the fuck down. Featuring you being able to full-body tackle the elf, which is very effective because you have a Strength score of 17. The dragonborn also gets quickly apprehended, and the guard captain gives you full accolades for taking down the cursed item ring because you did most of the job. You get your money back and you get an official license to do whatever the hell you want in the city because she figures that if you did this good of a job on day two, you can do a whole lot more if you're allowed to stay for longer.

And so, Nicole found herself settling down in the city and being employed as a private investigator in matters related to magic items. Not only does she have free reign in the city and the friendship of the guard captain, but the wizard's college also loves her because she found a bunch of their missing students and stopped the flooding of cursed items in the city.

And she still can't cast spells worth a shit.

Thanks for sending this in!

~Jasper