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theballadofthesunandthestars · 2 days ago

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Hello! I'm an aroace lesbian, here's my thoughts on the soulmate trope! I'll be talking about real life too, but I promise it all relates back to ship tropes and fanfic. And sorry it's kinda ramble-y!

So, I am not really a fan of the idea that each person has only one soulmate, and I especially hate the idea that soulmates are purely romantic. But I actually do believe in soulmates! I believe that each person has multiple soulmates, but soulmates are not necessarily a romantic partner that you're destined to be with. I believe that there are people that are meant to be in our lives one way or another, sometimes forever and sometimes temporarily. I think that soulmates can be not just romantic, but platonic and familial as well. All soulmates are just people that you are meant to have in your life.

A big aspect of this belief is that I don't see love between friends as lesser than love between romantic partners. I absolutely despise the phrasing "more than friends" when talking about romantic relationships, because friendships are just as nuanced, wonderful, and powerful as romances. And maybe that's just because I don't experience romantic attraction, but I don't think that's why. I know straight girls who have boyfriends, yet they share this deeply intimate connection that goes almost deeper than the feelings they have for their romantic partners. There's nothing romantic or sexual about their relationship; they just love each other deeply, and cannot imagine life without each other. In my mind, they're soulmates. They're meant to be in each other's lives, and they're linked to each other. In a romantic sense, we all have multiple people in the world that we could be romantic soulmates with. You can lose a soulmate due to bad timing or the relationship not working out, and there's still someone out there in the world for you if you want them. Some people dedicate themselves to one soulmate. Others have multiple throughout their lives. But one lifestyle is not above the other.

I've read one soulmate AU fic that I kind of liked. It was one where soulmates could feel each other's pain, and it was incredibly well-written. But there was one plot point I adored where it's revealed that one of the main couples in the story are actually not soulmates; both of them have different soulmates that they met, but realized that they were terrible with their soulmates romantically, and so while they keep in touch with their soulmates, they ultimately fell in love with someone who was not their soulmate, and found just as much fulfillment in that. And I LOVED that plot point; it made me like that relationship so much more. There was also an aroace character in the fanfic who had a soulmate, but he didn't want to be with him romantically, and so he wasn't. And I loved that plot point too because it showed that aroace people aren't incapable of deep love and aren't missing out on anything when they don't feel romantic attraction. That fic was super good in other words.

And I also think that my belief on soulmates is what makes me a multi-shipper and makes me not understand ship discourse in the slightest. Because first of all; polyamory anyone? I think that you can totally love multiple people at the same time, and it doesn't take away from the love you experience with any one person. Secondly, since friendship is not below romance in my mind and is just as valuable, I can totally be chill with a ship that I like being platonic or romantic in a given fanfic or universe. It doesn't feel like a loss in the relationship in the slightest.

I get the appeal of a soulmate trope; the idea that there is someone out there destined to love you no matter your flaws and shortcomings? Love that! But I guess I hate the idea that's usually promoted that everyone only has one soulmate, and it's romantic. And on the rare occasions when those fics include an aroace character, that character just doesn't get a soulmate of any kind. And that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. So I generally don't read those fics, though I hope people never stop writing them because you should not let some weird fuck like me on the internet stop you from writing what you want!

I recommend this world view personally though because I was able to heal so much for it! I was so scared that I was broken, that I was missing out on a big part of life, but no. Like Chappell Roan said, love is a kaleidoscope; even with all the colors and shapes, it somehow all boils down to the same emotion. And my friends that do have romantic attraction, I think that believing platonic connections are not lesser than can really help with a lot of insecurities and anguish that come from dating and engaging in romantic relationships. Because you don't need them to experience true love, and so there's no pressure anymore! You can explore romance at your own pace and leisure. You can be unafraid to let people go that you need to, because there's someone else out there who'll love you just as much! It makes life so much more fulfilling in my opinion!

But as I said, I'm a weird fuck on the internet and you know your life better than I do. So if this doesn't work for you, feel free to say "oh no thanks!" and live the life that's best suited for you! You got this!

Whew. Sorry for the cheesiness

Curious, I haven’t really seen any real trend among aspec people and the ship tropes they do like, however I think I kinda seen a trend in what they dislike. So in the tags tell me if you’re aspec (ace and/or aro) and if you dislike soulmates, and I mean the most straightforward romantic non subverted kind (but if there are versions you like feel free to elaborate)

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zillychu · 20 hours ago

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Can we please politely push for DPxDC content to not use the main DP tags?

An AU overtaking a main tag is a fairly common fandom thing to happen, and when it does happen, this is generally how it's dealt with. There's no solid guideline of when to do it, but at some point, an AU becomes so widespread that blacklisting doesn't really help.

It's also simply not fair, nor logical to shove a fandom out of its tags and into a different tag or community. What about new fans who peek into the main tag and see nothing but an AU they weren't looking for?

(This is a great place to also remind people that only the first five tags on a post get sorted site-wide. Anything after those are purely for your own organization in your own blog. So you can still tag your stuff with canon tags after the first five!)

I really think DPxDC stuff needs to be posted in a dedicated tag/community. I really don't want to have to start blocking individual users, but after waiting for... what, three years, I think? In hopes that fans would self-govern and use a bit of common courtesy I've seen in other fandoms? I'm unfortunately almost there. Not to say that this is deliberately rude! I'm not sure the fandom at large has really talked about it enough for DPxDC fans to catch on, so I don't blame any party here.

I just think this is something we could very politely ask for more. Be kind, be patient, and see if we all can't make this fandom space a bit more comfy for everyone, yeah?

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #fandom #zilly squeaks #i hope this doesn't come across as mean!#I've just seen a lot of frustration popping up again lately #and it's becoming more frustrating to me too #I've kinda. not been as active in the fandom lately bc of it #so I'm just throwing my two cents out into the pile of coins #this happened to TAU btw!#it was starting to aggravate ppl in the main GF tag so we just as a community decided to stop posting there #it was easy and freeing in a way! no one felt guilty or worried about posting too much TAU after that #we only had our own tag to flood then lol

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sailingintothenight · 1 day ago

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"The girl in his eyes." Bob Reynolds Imagine.

(Not my gif but give a prize to the people who make them)

Summary: Time together created feelings in the two of you, until the group tries to get him and you to talk, with John urging Bob to talk about "the girl in his eyes." And that creates a big misunderstanding.

A/N: Just a kind of short imagine (around 4K words) cause I'm new here and I don't want to go on too long and bore you all in case this is boring. I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors. But something I always knew but I accepted today is that some of us write the kind of love we'd like to receive, right? The kind we sometimes can't find, though other did find, I hope. However, in the meantime, don't forget to love yourself please. As a warning, a little angst(?) but with a happy ending! and the word "drug." I think that's all, thanks!

“Lena, did you see (Y/N)—”

The last letter of your name drops to a whisper as Bob stops in front of the long couch, Yelena’s finger pressed against her own lips to silence him, a potato chip sandwiched between her other two before she pops it into her mouth, the bag in her lap, and her full attention back on the phone in her other hand.

She’s sitting diagonally, her back between the cushion behind her and the armrest, her left knee bent down as it falls off the edge to the floor, but it’s the other one that has Bob pressing his lips together as he films this version of you with his bluest gaze, the memory searing itself into his mind. You’re there, asleep, lying sideways on the comfy, fluffy cushions, part of your head on the outside of Yelena’s thigh, a front strand of your hair now falling over your closed eyelids and the border of your nose.

And it's soft for Bob, that image of you, and overwhelming only in the way it forces him to swallow the lump forming in his throat as his feelings pile up inside.

"You need anything, Bob?" Yelena's pointed gaze moves from the paused TikTok video (a cat staring at the camera, a flashbulb fired in right in its face), chuckling as the animal's expression still lingers in her mind, frozen on her phone—the white feline silhouette and wide–open eyes—and she shows it to him. "Have you watched this video?"

Bob nods, and the sound of him trying to clear his throat (so his words don't falter mid–sentence like he knows they will) accompanies the action.

"Yeah, (Y/N) sent it to me a few days ago."

"It's so funny." She laughs softly, and her full attention returns to the device, finger sliding across the screen after saving it to favorites, bringing another chip to her mouth. “That cat is so silly.”

But like a cry, Bob whimpers softly, the tiniest sound in the silence.

“You’re dropping crumbs in her hair, Lena.”

Yelena stops, her gaze sliding from her phone to him and then back down to you, and her slightly oily hand catches the crispy piece that had gotten caught in the strands.

“Relax, Bob. This is the price (Y/N) is paying for using me. She knows it. We shook hands. Now, do you need anything? Or someone, maybe?”

There’s a hint of healthy mockery in her smile, a silent challenge in her tone of voice that’s urging him to answer only with the truth everyone already sees, but the featherweight of her joke feels like lead in his chest and in his nervous hands, covered by a layer of clothing one size too big for Bob.

“No, just… I finished reading a book and thought (Y/N) would be here ready to—”

But there was nothing afterward, just lying there together, in the same bed before sleeping, on extreme sides so as not to cross boundaries but to keep each other company before loneliness settled in every room, when it sometimes forced him to wake up with a gasp and a foggy mind filled with traumatic experiences, talking about books or things.

But perhaps it was the words left unspoken between you before sleeping (hidden among the ones you did say: goodnight and sleep well), the ones you two avoided saying and pushed aside, along with the feelings that lived dormant in the darkness and accumulated inside each other—the things you both were dying to say but neither of you dared for fear that the already solid pillars of your friendship would crumble because of something as unstable as love.

Yelena waits a second longer, but there is no response from the other end.

“The team and I were talking about you tw—”

Bob knows what it is, the favorite topic on everyone's lips.

“You guys talk a lot, maybe you should shut up for a while. Silence is good sometimes.”

She rolls her eyes, an exasperated look following her action.

“Help me out here for a while, will you? I have a cramp and need to stretch.”

Bob swallows, eyes slightly wide at the prospect of feeling that kind of closeness with you, the kind that comes so quickly it makes him dizzy and ignites the heat in his cheeks sharply. The warmth of your hand, he felt it before, many times, a casual or intentional touch, and it was scorching (when the supermarket was crowded and the crush of people unnerved him sometimes, for example, your fingers would close around his and his hand would squeeze yours), as if it could ignite a forest fire inside him, so wild it seemed it could burn everything—the enemy in his thoughts, his insecurities, his fears, his nightmares.

He didn't even want to think about what it would feel like to feel the heat of your cheek.

But he did.

Bob had imagined it several times already. In a burst of bravery, his heart beating faster than a drug high, his thumb would slide down your cheek, fingers hooking softly around the edge of your jaw.

"Bob?"

"What?"

Yelena drops her things into the armrest, her hand cupping the bottom of your head.

“Put your leg here, Bob.”

He shakes his head, his own heartbeat increasing with the fear and excitement that mix, so close that the line between them blurs, and his somewhat messy, wild hair moves with him.

“I don’t think—”

“Three…”

“What are you—?”

“Two…”

“Lena—”

“One.”

Bob takes a step forward, hands outstretched to stop her without a word, a silent plea in his eyes for her to do nothing, even though Yelena hadn't moved an inch and wasn't planning to either. And with a deep inhalation and exhalation, a failed attempt to fill his lungs with cold air and soothe the heat settling in his chest, Bob switches places with her, even more gentle as you shift in your sleep, your hands close to your face and your cheek now on his leg, covered by his gray sleep pants, but which seem like the finest fabric in the world when Bob feels your heat radiate through your skin until it meets his, every nerve ending.

"You're adorable, Bob." Yelena laughs quietly, but there's not a hint of cruel mockery in her words—never with him—and she leans back on the second–long sofa, phone in her hand again. "Like those boys in her books. Such a gentleman. I know why she likes you so much."

Likes you, being in love—two different scenarios if the feelings on either side were unequal. Either a chasm separated those two feelings, or the first could be the path to get to the other.

“Did I do something wrong to make her not like me anymore?”

The weight of self–doubt about a topic as distant and still foreign to him as love (next to his insecurities) try to bring down the confidence Bob was still trying to build little by little, and Yelena can see them shining clearly in his gaze as he finally holds hers, even in the dim living room light at night, searching for an answer he can't find within himself, not when there's a thick fog between the truth and him.

“What do you mean?”

Bob shrugs.

“(Y/N) is always here with me, but absent at the same time, as if something has suddenly changed between us.”

“You’re overthinking things, Bob.”

There’s affection in Yelena’s words, warm in their attempt to reassure him of a truth hidden among his fears, but he lets out a small sound, something like a laugh without a hint of humor. Just an empty noise.

“Overthinking sometimes allows you to see the smallest things.”

“Like what?”

Bob can see it in his sometimes fragmented mind, every moment together and the way you changed, finding solitude where there was only company, a touch of emptiness when there was always life in your eyes.

But he doesn't know exactly how to explain it, and Yelena nods thoughtfully.

"Why don't you try to think about what exactly you did then? We have a while until the losers arrive with dinner. I'm going to be here with you, but ignoring you at the same time, okay?"

Catching his slight nod, Yelena turns on the couch, face close to the cushion and her phone in between, indistinct sounds from the videos, set to low volume, floating around him so the absolute silence doesn't completely consume him with the severity of his thoughts.

Bob lowers his head and his gaze rests on you, barely listening to the sound of your slow breathing as, in your sleep, your body relaxed, at peace. The curve of your lips is tempting, and he lifts the hand resting in his lap to push that strand of hair away from your face and place it where it belongs.

There, above your eyebrow and with nothing covering it, Bob can see the only physical reminder of the fall of a whole building when your self–control overflowed at the edge of your anger. And like a tiny crack in a surface, the small scar has a slightly different hue than your skin, but it was an imperfection that only makes you more perfect, more real, a whole person and not like a cruel dream from which Bob always wakes up before reaching.

Just like that, your presence in his life became a need.

You were the proof that he was still alive after the unbearable pain, (knowing all have been worth it because he met you) and that his heart hadn't turned to tin. He was still breathing, his heart was still beating, and he'd finally felt the nervous tingle, the fluttering of being in love.

Love, so silent you don't even know you have it until you're full of it.

Love, a silent feeling in a room full of euphoria, and at the same time, it's like an alarm that goes off and no one but him and you can hear.

To be close to you, with you, every day, that’s all Bob wanted at the beginning. But almost selfishly, the passage of time together made him greedy, wanting more from you, a different smile than you had for others, a new kind of laugh, escalating until all his thoughts were about you, daydreaming about how to shake off that title of friend and crown himself with a different one.

It was a silent plea, a hope. It became a desire that made him company through his sleepless nights…

“You need to be direct with her.” Alexei had said weeks ago in the kitchen, when the hands of the clock showed it was too late at night. “Your words must be deep enough to cut like a knife in the heart.”

Bob didn’t even know how he’d ended up in that secret meeting, when all he’d wanted to do was grab a late–night snack from the fridge to leave on your nightstand after you’d joked embarrassingly that you did that sometimes. But, confused and slightly scared, his eyebrows furrowed in surprise as the rest of the men stared at the red guardian and his constantly failing attempt to explain himself properly.

“Maybe not so direct.” Walker shook his head, the usual mocking tone on the edge of his voice. “How about you just tell her in small hints instead of trying to draw blood? You can hint that you like her, but without actually saying I like you.”

Bob blinked, confused, the information coming in too fast as he tried to take it all in.

“Like what?”

Bucky wag his head softly.

“Ask her to teach you how to do things you know she likes. She will feel that you are interested in her.”

And that was exactly what Bob did.

Now, when the doors of the elevator open and some really loud voices pierce the room, his natural protective instinct, (the one that was born the first time he took care of his father after witnessing his first blackout) makes his hand, a second after the resounding sound, move fast to press it against your ear, blocking out the laugh coming from the men.

As a reflex, your body moves in your sleep, but your awakening is less abrupt with his help.

You get up slowly, your mind and gaze blurred as Yelena leaves the living room, patting Bob on the shoulder on her way to the dining room. The edges of your gaze darken after rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands, the pleasant sting creeping around as you chuckle.

“Did I sleep so much I forgot I was lying on your leg?”

Bob chuckles too, and an invisible thread pulls the corner of his lip upward.

“You slept so long that Lena’s leg went numb. Just like mine.”

You let out a surprised laugh, your body slumping back against the backrest.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you know I’m always here for you.”

“Kids, dinner!”

Alexei’s voice fills the room.

At the same time, as a reflection that you both can’t avoid in time when instinct wins, Bob and you move your bodies to look over your shoulders, heads turning in the same direction, finding yourselves at what your mother used to call, at the perfect distance of a kiss. Bob is so close you can almost drink his breath, stopping yours when his blue gaze holds yours for an eternal second that finish quickly but that feels endless, watching each other's eyes before you both separate, looking forward as a nervous feeling fills your heart.

You walk away first, finding an empty spot next to Ava.

“Dad, will you stop calling us to the table like we’re real kids?” Yelena complains, sitting at one of the heads of the food–laden table as Bob sits in the chair across from you. “Someone here is older than life.”

The rest chuckle, not too loudly.

“But you’re my kids. Now, let’s have dinner like family.”

At some point, there is a back—and—forth conversation around, about a past relationship for some of them, somehow empty, never too deep because talking once about the future they hoped and never got to feel is enough for everybody, but always accompanied by soft laughter that makes the tower feel like a real home after some lost it or never had it in the first place.

“So… what’s your type of man, (Y/N)?” Yelena chuckles, and the sound is full of genuine affection for you, but it hides her desire to steer the conversation in a way that Bob can be included in your words. “You’re always reading, so you must have a type. Maybe someone here is like that.”

The others feign innocence, but the possibility stirs in Bob’s body with a heartbeat that’s too fast, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion, and a certain weight of worry about not hearing a promising answer.

“Who?” Ava laughs also knowingly, with a certain disdain at thinking of the others and you that way too, and her finger points at Alexei. “Too old.” Then at Bucky. “Way too old.” Finally, at John. “Too much of an idiot. That leaves just Bob.”

Bob swallows at the sound of his name, so abruptly that the food in his mouth makes his expression twist slightly in pain.

The others, expectant, continue waiting.

You clear your throat, your heart pounding against your chest as if it were seeking its own freedom and a way out of a situation that seems unlikely to end well.

“The usual, I guess, just… a nice guy.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not fun.” John grins, malice bubbling up as if he needs to embarrass someone at least once a day to survive. “You could be more specific, like Bob. Right now there is a girl in his eyes so he could tell us what she’s like, describe her so much until we’re bored.”

Bob's gaze meets yours, barely a second before you look away when Bucky speaks.

“I think that’s enough with the jokes, huh?”

But then, to everyone’s surprise and his own, Bob speaks, and with a touch of nervousness bordering on anxiety, he starts talking about her. Just a little, not quite to the point of boring the rest of you.

And you listen, your heart a little cold around the edges. Like a brutal change in the season, the tempest of his words threatens to hurt you without hesitation or guilt, but you listen, because you always tried to be a good friend to Bob, a person he could trust when he didn't even trust his own shadow. And even when he was always full of doubt about himself, about the truth, he seemed to trust your voice more than the enemy within, the one that whispered only cruelty. Even when he became cloudy, pulling the blanket off his head when you asked him to, because that was always the only promise for him that it would all end eventually.

For all those months together, it had been you, and between heartbeats, it had always been him. Until you confused things, apparently.

Until the girl in his eyes arrived.

And it hurts, it burns to think about it, that reality that creeps up on you, that of always being just a friend. And it's like having an empty stomach, an empty mind, an empty heart.

When he's finished, you excuse yourself to leave with a smile and your head held high, leaving the deathly silence behind and missing the way Bob follows you with his eyes, even after you disappear from the room.

"I think we blew this." Ava lets out a small sound, like a worried laugh at possible defeat as she looks at the rest.

"Did you have to go on so long, genius?" A semi–hard object hits the side of Bob's head and bounces off it, without erasing his terrified expression as he looks at Bucky. "We told you you had to flatter her a little, not write her a Shakespearean sonnet."

Yelena frowns.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Some weeks ago we told Bob to try to hint to (Y/N) that he likes her without telling her he likes her.”

“And?”

“And nothing else. (Y/N) came into the kitchen to get something from the fridge, and the conversation ended there.”

“Did she hear you talking about this ingenious plan?” Ava’s hard gaze landed on Bob, and he blinked, innocent eyes set in a look of terror. “Did (Y/N) hear you talking about her, or did she hear you being told by the smartest men in this place how to get your girl?”

As night fell and sent the rest of the team to sleep, the endless talk finished when you had entered the kitchen, a soft sound from your throat announcing your presence first.

“What are you doing up so late, darling?”

“I came to get something to eat.” Bucky’s gaze rested on you, all the way until you closed the fridge door. “Sorry to interrupt your boys’ sleepover.”

“It’s not a boys’ sleepover, (Y/N).” John frowned, slightly offended.

“Men’ sleepover is better.” Alexei smiled, and you laughed with him, his innocence fluttering as the others sighed in defeat.

“Of course, my mistake. Sleep well, everybody.”

“You too.”

The others' voices were an echo, except for Bob's, lips closed as your eyes fell on him in your farewell.

He never said your name, and neither did the others. But from then on, there was only half a life in your eyes, whereas before they had always been full of it every time you looked at him.

The seconds of understanding end when Bob stands up, so fast he pushes his chair back with a dry sound against the polished floor.

His own breathing becomes labored, but he tries to calm his anxious heart.

"You always have to ruin things—"

"Not this time. Not with her." Bob murmurs softly, and when he finally reaches your room, your door is always open for anyone who wants to enter and exist, and that's a mixed relief. "(Y/N)?"

You look over your shoulder, your body facing away from him as you continue to sit in front of your laptop on the desk.

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Bob closes the door behind him, barely making a noise as he ventures inside, feeling the place like untapped territory even though he's been there since his life merged with yours. The sound of his sneakers on the floor is almost nonexistent, but it feels heavy like lead in his pockets as Bob sits next to you, listening to the almost ghostly volume of the video playing in front of you.

"You okay, Bob?"

Your attention is on the screen and your voice is a whisper, but it is an overwhelming force that hits his chest, even harder than bullets in the past.

"Are you?"

You chuckle.

"I asked you first."

Bob hums a reply.

"Do you want to lie down for a while? I finished a new book today and think I can convince you to read it."

You shake your head, but there's a slight, honest smile on your lips.

"I'm not sleepy yet. Maybe later or tomorrow."

Neither of you says anything for a moment, your eyes straight ahead like Bob's gaze lingers on your profile.

Bob knew that you, too, were still learning to use your voice like him, to find the right words—always hidden—so scattered across different galaxies, so far from each other that you still struggled to put them together to say something eloquent, to say what you both truly wanted to say, what you truly felt. Silence had always been your ally and an imposition for him. And that had been his curse throughout his life and yours, always in solitude, until it created his inability to speak.

But not today, not ever again.

“We’re feeling a little much apathetic today, huh?”

It’s not an accusation, but his tone tinges with his sassiness, the kind he used to make direct comments and respond to other people’s jokes, to John’s sarcasm and sometimes Bucky’s condescension. Today, however, his words make you frown sharply as you turn to look at him.

“Excuse me?” His gaze threatens to falter and leave yours when you narrow your eyes at him, but Bob stands firm when what he's said is free to the world, saying out loud what he wants to say instead of letting it perish inside and ducking his head to pretend it never happened. "You're quite bold sometimes, Bob."

“And you’re quite clueless.” He smiles, softly, firmly planted on the floor, his heart pounding in his chest. The electricity, the tingling at his fingertips as the result of this brave act is addictive, like a drug, but ultimately a healthy one, one he wants to get hooked on. “I was talking about you, silly. How can you be so smart and not realize that every word I said was about you, (Y/N)?”

Your frown relaxes, and the gnawing feeling of annoyance at his forwardness is replaced by confusion. His hands cup the sides of your chair, and Bob pulls you closer, gently, not roughly, taking in the way your body has stopped tensing, being brave when he sees your eyes light up with affection again, completely—a little scared around the edges, but finally not halfway.

“When I asked you to teach me how to braid your hair, it was for you—for that loose braid you always have. Your mom did it for you, didn’t she? Every day.” You nod, feeling the heat from his knees radiating against yours. “When I asked you to teach me how to dance to those old ballads Bucky loves so much, I didn’t do it to dance with someone else. I did it because I saw the way he spun you around one night and saw you laugh, and I wanted so badly to be him that I could feel my body vibrate. The things I said in the kitchen, about her hair and her laugh and everything—it was all about you, okay? Can you believe me? Please?”

You nod again, and Bob can see the hope, right next to that desire of a soul crying out for the exact same thing as his, silent but fervent.

His hands cup your face, soft skin over slightly calloused fingers on your cheek and the underside, thumbs gliding to make his dreams (asleep and awake) come true, a touch so tender you feel nothing but warmth at the tips—his face so close his breath mingles with yours.

Your own hands clutch at his arms, searching for something to hold you steady as well.

“I’m sorry. I… I got scared. This is my first time feeling like this.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, I never meant to make you feel like there was someone else there because ever since I met you, it’s always been you. And if you have any doubts, you are the girl in my eyes.”

Bob leans forward, closing the small space between his existence and yours.

And behind his closed eyelids, like yours, the darkness ceases to be terrifying and becomes pleasurable, for the first time in his life. Time, life itself, the past and future are suspended, unimportant and in an eternal pause in the seconds his lips linger against yours. It's an unspoken conversation, a confession of love without even having to say those three letters. A connection, strength and gentleness, melting away any fear or doubt. The kiss is soft like him, a little shy like you, but real and perfect after every moment you imagined him in your head.

And in a synchronized movement, the two of you separate, breathing in each other's air.

"I'll be back, okay? I won't be long." He whispers, his lips touch yours with the promise of many more shared kisses, before Bob stands.

"Where are you going?"

He stops halfway across the room and turns around, those strands of hair on either side of his face bouncing with the movement.

“I'm going to get you some midnight snacks so you won't have to get up, and that book I was talking about.”

You laugh softly.

“And you're going to tell the others, aren't you?”

“No.” His shoulders slump. “Yes. I have to, honey. Lena and Ava were about to hurt me really bad.”

A nervous but genuine smile appears on that sweet face of him before Bob turns away.

#bob reynolds imagine #bob reynolds thunderbolts #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #bob reynolds x y/n #bob thunderbolts #bob reynolds

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angelofthemornings · 3 days ago

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This is something that really interests me. First of all, it's been done in the romance industry for forever. (That's how you get titles like The Billionaire Sheik's Secret American Mistress, you've got the whole setup right there.) (We'll discuss the racism in calling love interests of Middle Eastern descent "sheiks" at a later date.) People who like romance do in fact read them for SPECIFICALLY the tropes and their predictability. This isn't an insult towards the romance novel as a medium, but an acknowledgement that people who read romance novels are doing so for a very specific reason (the comfort of predictability) and are going to seek out situations that turn them on with the assumed knowledge that the plot is going to do the same old XYZ and end up with a HEA (happily ever after) every time. (There's probably a whole master thesis somewhere in how said predictability makes women feel like they're in a safer space to explore desire or whatever, but I'm not the guy to write it. The point is, a romance novel has a mission and is a highly efficient machine. If you don't believe me, ask somebody who's genuinely into romance or pick up something like Romancing the Beat which is about how and why to write a romance novel.)

The *only* problem here is that this is starting to splash over into "normal" books marketed at people who read novels for different reasons. Personally I would read, say, a tragic fable about an emotionally scarred assassin who falls in love with the prince she's supposed to kill, but I don't want to know how it ends, I want some solid worldbuilding and a meaty plot, I want a hint that the woman has emotional depth and isn't a stock character, and I want to know if it's actually going to be a tragic fable or some goofy shit where they go on the run together and bicker the entire time. Some of this is compatible with a romance novel's goals and some of it isn't. If you're trying to catch a more average fantasy fan into your net, just saying "it's enemies to lovers!" does nothing for that demographic. I need a summary and maybe a couple sample pages.

I don't know when or where the wires got crossed, but they did, and marketing other books like they're romance novels doesn't work. For the most part, actual professional advertisers know this and if it's a real ad you can expect the book to be targeted towards romance readers alone, but the people on BookTok trying to get you to read, like...Iron Widow or whatever by doing this are barking up the wrong tree. People who don't read romance novels are also sort of starting to expect this type of advertising for "normal" books without realizing that this form of advertisement was meant for speaking to a different audience. (No, Crime & Punishment does not have any fucking spice!)

(I do have no problem whatsoever when they advertise specifically romances this way. I'm not the target audience for those, not gonna criticize.)

do publishers realize that advertising books using fanfic tropes spoils the experience of reading an original story. stop telling me it’s enemies to lovers and there was only one bed and unrequited love hurt comfort golden retriever black cat timeloop major character death. why do i give a fuck if i don’t know any of the characters and now plus i already know the entire plot of the story. that’s what ao3 is supposed to be for

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hyacinthleaves · 2 days ago

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Hcs with cam please? If thats okay. If not its cool

yeah sure. sorry in advance. also why am i being punished by having to pick decent banners for objects

Cam:

He has a strange love-hate relationship for showing physical affection at first

He'll act like its the corniest thing ever but then he's so quick to give you a hug when you feel like you need it. You can't be a tough guy forever, Cam

Mind you, when he gets past this, he becomes as annoying as possible sometimes. You're minding your business and he's ON YOU like GO AWAY WHY NOW

I feel like a hug from him would be almost perfect....just ignore the smell

Either he smells like straight ahh, nothing, or chemicals bro and this is YOUR fault. All depends on what you put in the trash before you put the dateviators on

And if you flinch or turn away he's actually making fun of you

In fact he's just making it worse. It reminds me of those tiktoks with where people are like "the way people who don't wear deodorant move"

deadass that's the type of confidence he would gain in that moment just to piss you off

I feel like he's so easy to get into an argument with even after you two get together

He has STRONG boundaries and half of the time he won't be willing to meet in the middle so you'll just have to deal with it

I mean if you're bothered enough THEN he'll back down and apologize but its hard to reach that point so you'' just be expected to get over some things

Besides 1 on 1 conflict, he is so helpful and sweet actually

I think the best aspect of this is that he's actually so nice to you because he finds it really funny that you get surprised by that stuff so he keeps doing it. Like its moreso for your reaction rather than him just doing it because he feels like he needs to.

Bruh I'm still laughing at that dumbass tiktok

He's not necessarily one of those people that likes to constantly talk about their partner but anyone can tell that he gets A LITTLE proud when you get brought up or he has to bring you up

And he acts like he's not flexing. He absolutely is. Cuz he bagged that. No pun intended.

Also can we talk about the names he calls the player? "Hey spicy" CAM LOOKALIKE CONTEST IN MY ROOM STAT

Anyway. He just has a certain charm to him. He knows that. This is exactly how you ended up here

#x reader #headcanons #hcs #date everything #date everything x reader #date everything cam #date everything cam x reader #date everything!#date everything! x reader

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lynnsenpai · 2 days ago

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Big Life and Comics Update

Hey, remember that time last April when I finished Chapter 6 of MIS, and I was all like, "I'll be back to posting in May." And then it's the end of June now and I've been mostly quiet the whole time. Heck, I meant to make new character profiles for Esther, Seir, and Marchosias during this break and none of that happened either.

The super short version is that at the time the last chapter ended, depression and burnout hit me hard. On a personal level, our apartment was (and still is) in disarray after our landlord had to come in and do a ton of work on our bathroom only to have to stop partway (for honestly legit reasons). This is an ongoing thing, and due to the current heatwave, he probably won't be back to finish until next week, leaving the busted up look of everything to continue to be a source of stress. All the while, I'm worried about my elderly mother who has dementia, and my elderly father who's been having cardiac concerns. And none of this to even speak of the stress cause by the horrifying goings on in my country.

It was making me feel helplessly, perpetually tired.

I'm not going to claim everything is all better now. But I have been taking it slow for the better part of two months while I dealt with life for a bit. I was able to take a fair bit of time for me to rest and zone out as needed, and I finally took a long needed visit home to see my family. So I'm not all better, but I am… better. And I couldn't ask for more right now.

During the last few months, though, what I didn't do a lot of was draw. I contributed to a handful of collabs where I didn't want to let my friends down, and I managed some new rat doodles here and there. But I only have the cover and two pages for the next chapter and basically nothing else ready to go (although the script is done for the next two full chapters). Again, I needed that time, so ultimately, it was for the best. But this does put things in an awkward position right now, because I can't exactly say "stay tuned for new pages next week!" because I'm simply not ready, and that's just a recipe for rebooting the burnout I literally just got over.

My original plan was to finish chapters 7 and 8 to reach what I felt was a good "season finale-like" stopping point, and then take an extended break to shift focus entirely towards the final Rain book until I get it done. I also thought Chapters 7 and 8 would probably be done by now, or maybe next month the latest. I didn't anticipate the two breaks I would need in the middle of Chapter 6 or the extended one I've been taking now. So I'm thinking I want to pivot to a new approach.

My new plan is to expedite the latter. I want to prioritize focus on the last book, to give it a hint of a chance of actually finally coming out this year (it's the 15th anniversary of Rain this November, so I'd really really love to see it release this year).

I sincerely apologize for those of you chomping at the bit for more MIS. But I promise, it will return. And once I complete my previous story once and for all - for real this time - then I can go all in, with MIS finally allowed to have my full attention without an air of guilt hovering over me that I still need to do something else, and overwhelming all the time.

It may be a longer than usual wait, but I think it'll be especially worth it in the long run. The final Rain book will be better for it, and MIS will be better for it.

Here's a little visual of my girls taking turns, so they can both come back all the stronger. ^_^

Sorry again for the extended break, but thank you so much for all your love, support, and patience while I work through everything. I love you all. Please stay safe, stay happy, and stay healthy.

Until next time! 💜

#MIS #My Impossible Soulmate #RainComic #Big Life and Comics Update #Chiaki #Rain #High Five #Baton Pass #Queer Artist #Trans Artist

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twd-bee3 · 2 days ago

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His Worst Fear

Summary: After an intense argument about your recklessness and sobriety, you overdose. Daryl is the one who has to fight for your life.

Warnings/Tags: 18+, graphic descriptions of drug use, overdose, addiction, descriptions of performing CPR, near-death experience, trauma, HEAVY angst, established relationship, female reader (she/her), season three, no use of y/n

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: If you have struggled with addiction in the past, this post may be triggering. Please proceed with caution and make the decision that is right for you. You know yourself best. I cannot stress this enough. I included graphic descriptions of the reader shooting up, and there is a possibility that it will be too distressing for some people. Your mental health comes first, and I will not blame you for skipping this one. Here is a hotline that you can contact if you are in the US and struggling with drug addiction: 855-378-4373. It is one of many resources.

“You don't fuckin' get it, Daryl. There is a deep aching emptiness inside of me, and getting high eases it. It gives me a moment of peace.”

You'd been fighting about your sobriety for over an hour now, and Daryl was exhausted. He'd never heard you talk about your life with so little care. This was his girl, and it felt like you were drifting further and further away.

“I know it hurts, baby. I know. Ain't gonna sit here and pretend that I've been through this shit - I haven't. But that emptiness that you're describin'? I've felt that. Please just let me help you.”

“That's what you ain't understandin'. There is no savin' me. It feels like you're fuckin' suffocatin' me. I can't breathe with you always on my ass!”

You were beyond overwhelmed, and you wanted nothing more than to numb the ache. You knew that you were being unnecessarily harsh, but you couldn't stop the venom flowing from your lips.

Hearing your words, Daryl flinched like he'd been struck. You had never spoken to him like this, and it hurt. It really fucking hurt. He was fully aware of how the apocalypse was affecting you, but this was different. The anger in his baby's eyes was completely foreign to him. You'd been together for years, and he had yet to see you act like this. He was at a loss for words.

Watching him fall silent, you knew that you had messed up. A flicker of remorse crossed your face, and you softened her tone. You took a hesitant step forward and reached out to touch his arm, but he quickly pulled back.

“Don't touch me right now.”

You recognized that you had hurt him, but his rejection of your touch stung. You were hit with a wave of shame and guilt.

“Shit, baby. I ain't mean to yell at you like that. You ain't deserve to be spoken to that way.”

“You're right. I ain't deserve to be treated like that.” Feeling triggered and tired of fighting, he paused before speaking again. “I think I'm gonna take a walk.”

Without saying another word, he turned and walked out of the prison cell. He felt sick to his stomach, and he needed space.

You waited until he was out of sight before allowing yourself to break down. You sat on the cot and began to sob quietly. The argument had only served to make your desire to use stronger. There was no point in resisting it now. Knowing what you needed to do, you lifted the thin mattress and dug out your kit. It was a small pouch that held a few pre-loaded syringes filled with dope.

Removing your belt, you tied it around your arm and felt around for a good vein. You'd been an addict for years before this most recent relapse, so your veins were scarred. It took a moment and some frustration, but you finally found a usable one. Taking a deep breath, you slipped the needle in and made sure that you got some good blood return. You pushed the plunger down and felt the familiar warmth of the heroin wash over you. The world around you softened, and you let your head rest against the concrete wall.

Everything was on track until you felt a weight settle in your chest. Something had shifted, and your body grew heavy. There was no panic, though - you were far too high for that. You tried to keep your eyes from closing, but it was no use. Your eyelids kept fluttering, and it was harder to open them each time. It felt impossible to take a breath, and through the haze in your mind, you thought of one thing - Daryl. How would he react when he found you?

Then everything went dark, and your body stilled.

Daryl had only been gone for ten minutes, but it was enough for you to make a fatal mistake. He knew that he needed to make things right and walked back into their shared cell, blissfully unaware of what he was about to find. He was rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, and he was determined to make amends.

You were slumped against the wall, and your head was lolling to the side. He immediately picked up on the familiar signs that you had used again, but he assumed that you had simply nodded off. He felt a pang of anger and drew a rough hand over his face. Daryl's assumption was disproven when he approached you and saw the pale blue tint of your lips. Terror rushed through him, and he gently shook your shoulder. There was no reaction. He shook you again - harder this time, but there was no change.

Placing two trembling fingers to your neck, he felt the absence of your pulse and fought the urge to scream. His expression was broken, and his voice wavered as he spoke.

“No, no, no. Fuck. Baby, what did you do?”

You were still gasping softly, so he knew that you weren't completely gone. Yet. Daryl gently picked you up, and his heart broke as he realized how lifeless you felt. He laid your limp body on the concrete floor and tilted your head back to clear your airway. He placed his shaking hands against your chest and began pumping desperately.

“C'mon, baby. Please. Don't you leave me yet.”

He wasn't even sure if this was working, but he refused to give up. After a round of thirty chest compressions, he pressed his lips against yours and blew into your mouth. He was putting everything that he had into breathing life back into you. He was so focused on his task that he hardly felt the hot tears flowing down his face.

“You can't fuckin' die on me. I won't survive it. You're my whole world.”

Daryl repeated the cycle two more times before you finally took a breath. Your breathing was weak at first, but it gradually grew in strength. Letting out a ragged sob of relief, he gathered you in his arms again and sat against the small bed. You were still unconscious, but you were alive, and that was enough for him.

“That's my girl. Just keep breathin' for me. Please stay with me.”

It took a few more minutes, but you stirred in his arms and whimpered softly. Daryl didn't rush you to speak and slowly rocked you. He wasn't fully aware of what he was doing, but it seemed to soothe both of you. His whole body was still trembling from the adrenaline rush.

Even though your eyes remained closed, you instinctively knew that it was Daryl who was holding you. His embrace felt like home, and you continued taking those small breaths. The thick fog was clearing from your mind, and your eyelids fluttered open. After a moment, your weak voice broke the silence.

“I'm sorry. Ain't mean to fade on you.”

“I know, sweet girl, but you did. I- I almost lost you. You stopped fuckin' breathin'.”

He wasn't saying this to shame you - he was terrified. This was the closest that he had ever come to losing you. Daryl wasn't sure where to go from here, but he knew one thing for certain. He was never going to walk out on you again.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #twd fanfiction #twd oneshot #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon angst #angst with a happy ending #angst #heavy angst #twd angst

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clawessout272 · 2 days ago

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Doing this bc i have 0 post ideas!!! :p

🦴1) I'm a holothere but I just call myself nonhuman. :>

🦴2) I'm a wolf and werewolf! I might have something going on with wolfdogs, but I'm not sure.

🦴3) I guess so??? I already have a snout and ears n all, but sometimes my body feels more human at times. When i do feel more human (even tho i'm not) i can sometimes feel my fur growing, my snout shift, stuff like that. But if we're talking about my werewolf kin identity then yes!! when i feel human i can transform into a werewolf

🦴4) unfortunately, i have to pretend to be human because it's just not safe. If a single human knows my life will be over, I will get hurt mentally and physically. So i have to hold myself back. It can be hard sometimes, but I consider myself pretty good at pretending to be human. I sometimes accidentally let go and growl at something, but I try to either gaslight the ones around me, or just say it's "some weird thing i do".

🦴5) Mixed feelings. on one side, it's awesome! Almost everybeing is so welcoming and understanding. We're all freaks here, and wear that label as a badge of honor. I'm oh so very grateful for the beings who helped build this community, thank you so much.

But on the other side, idk. the misinformation that's being spread around, especially on tiktok, is crazy. But hey, every community has its good and bad sides!!

🦴6) I like riding my electric bike super fast, i love feeling the nice fresh breeze go through my fur. Taking walks in nature is also nice.

🦴7) Yeah. I hate being in cities or just in crowded spaces in general, like the mall. It just reminds me how humans see me as one of them, even tho i'm not. I may be a wolf/werewolf, but this body is shaped really weirdly. I don't see myself as human, i don't look human, i am not a human. But when i feel dysphoric i start to feel more human(ish). And that sucks.

🦴8) Be safe out there!! Be weary of your surroundings!! It's important to be yourself, but there's a lot of dangerous people out there who will try to hurt you. I recommend to be with friends/ have a handler with you when doing quads in the open or stuff like that. Not everywhere is safe, so be careful!

🦴9) Tails seem nice along with stuff like jewelry, but the rest is a no for me. They just make me more dysphoric tbh. Reminds me again, how humans see me as one of them no matter what (Also that my body is just fucking ass). When i wear masks or gloves it just feels like i'm wearing a cheap knock-off costume of myself, and i hate that. Reminds me of how my snout, ears, paws and more have been misformed to the point people mistake me for being human. Again, I don't see myself as human, i don't look human, i am not a human. But when i feel dysphoric i start to feel more human(ish).

Also wearing stuff on my face like masks is just really hard in general, i cant breathe in them :<

🦴10) I was born a wolf/ werewolf. I still do stuff that humans do and still have a few human behaviors, but that's because i was literally raised amongst them.

🦴11) sigh i don't have any alterhuman friends so i can't tag any 💔

okay that's it!! i know the original post was posted like a year ago but i had nothing better to do.

If you are an alter/nonhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

#alterhuman #alterhumanity #nonhuman #nonhumanity #wolfkin #otherkin #holothere #werewolfkin

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aythur · 2 days ago

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"Jesus wept." — John 11:35

notice how perps are usually only appreciated after they do something, elliot rodger was hated by the incel community and the forums before the day of retribution, but when he did it "MUH HERO!! HERO!! SAINT!!" — same for other fuckers, solomon wasn't liked on the sharty or the com, when he went ER now people look up to him and go "#1 troller did it for the lulz award funny guy our guy!"

like no one would gaf about a random person on tccblr until they do smt. no, you wouldn't be friends with eric or dylan if they were alive. yes, you would probably hate elliot rodger if he didn't retribute. you would probably call andrew blaze an annoying cashier, natalie rupnow this one quiet girl that no one likes, and solomon a normie nigger that you're scared of because you're racist. you would collectively make fun of pekka because he's this one weird kid with weird interests in military, nazism, and friedrich nietzsche.

and why is that? because masked normies (majority of this com) don't really give a shit about other people because they're shallow. I bet you guys would absolutely GLAZE solomon if he wasn't black, and chopped. it's all about looks, you guys stereotype people and perps based on looks. and honestly I don't know if I can blame you, it's in our nature to do such things because we're by nature primitive and egoistical animals, disgusting animals that is, but if you're not a fucking retard you know that what differs us, humans from other animals is not a simple random offset of the evolutionary process that makes us almost divine like, humans have souls, our souls are fully capable and willing to diminish and overcome our primitive instincts, but that takes courage and will, courage and will 99.5% of the population don't have.

"but why should we diminish our fleshly passions? we're animals, obey our nature!"

fuck you and your nature, we're more than animals, were superior to them and we're not dependent on them. if we deprive ourselves of our souls we will collapse as species, this collapse is unfolding on our eyes, degeneracy in all forms, pure evil, hatred, exploitation etcetera. the human species achieved what it has achieved only because of our souls, we have overcome every known species, we were born to inherit the stars, if you really believe our superiority and godlike mind is a product of an evolutionary calculation, go fucking kill yourself because you're nothing more than an animal.

pagans, people who obeyed their nature, people who believed in trees and other deities believed they had no soul, and they acted like animals. do you know what happened to them?

they went extinct, they got dominated by the abrahamics, because they were superior, because they didn't deprive themselves of their souls, because they fought for something divine.

so, why are we so shocked as a collective that school shootings and other acts of violence occur? this is simple natural selection and revengeance, bullied and persecuted teenagers take a gun and kill their prosecutors. those prosecutors are acting highly primitive, they want to assert dominance over the physically or mentally inferior classmates, so.. they just get killed. wow, shocking am I right? such a bizarre concept.. how could one shoot up his school!!!

adam lanza, a highly intelligent young man, has realized through his experiences that "Life is suffering, and suffering is life" — He realized that birth, is just the multiplication of suffering, therapy is really just rape of the mind, civilization is disease and etc.... So what did he do? He "saved" children from the suffering culture and civilization would indicate. I'm trying to make a point here but my mind is so fucking foggy and I'm so fucking hot right now I hate this. whatever, lanza basically saw through the lies of modern society, and knew that there's no other escape than death and acceleraitonism, he knew civilization and the system would collapse, but this collapse would take ages, and would be painful, so he decided to accelerate in the name of promortalism (which is super based!)

"but anon! they were kids!"

they won't be kids for their entire life, they would be raised in a disgusting controlled deprived of real values society, then they would reproduce and create more children that would go through the same process that's now even worse. these "kids" would do the same shit the people at v.tech did to seung cho, these kids should be treated as a potential threat, even if some of them would be raised with values like lanza, who cares? there's two ways to go out as a person with values:

1. kill yourself

2. flee from society

lanza, as an atheist (I don't blame him) clearly saw no point in fleeing from society, or at least he didn't want to because he loved the internet. so he just.. killed himself, but he went out with a bang!

on the other hand, who really are the saints? you know, christian saints, elders, monks. aren't they the same as lanza, but with courage and transcendent knowledge? monks, live in communes, isolated from the entire world, they proclaim the world as dead, and they wait for death, they're not scared of it because they know it is righteous to die, they follow a God that promises them eternal life and an escape from suffering, are they delusional for believing in that? not at all, they live a righteous life, they're wise, they don't hurt anyone, they're the same as your beloved perpetrators, but they're not cowardly. they face God, eternity and death directly. I promise you, some of them would also kill, as they hold wrath in their heart to the world, but that's the reason why they flee in the mountains or deserts. They believe death is a gift, not something you can just get. Death, is only enjoyable and acceptable if it is received naturally. What is better, immediate self inflicted death, or a sweet reward of death that you've been preparing for your entire life? Divine death, yes, that's how I would call it, death given by God himself as redemption, and the reward is eternal life, a righteous life.

"but anon, God isn't real! it's just a man made term used by people like you to cope with their life failures! How can you prove God?"

oh my little chud, it is impossible to think you have a soul, yet to think there's no God. God is real, we're all born with this sense of something superior being over us, someone that has control over us, and that manifests through our parents, doctors, teachers etc..

Maybe, believing in God isn't a way to cope with reality, but it's the way to redeem it? Chud, how can you justify this horrendous, evil world? How can you justify the suffering? Chuddie, notice how the system wants to close churches, and open more fabrics so you can go slave away in them. Notice chud.. notice how the system wants to diminish any moral value, how it wants to secularize your mind so there's nothing else on ur mind other than "money, work, sex, hedonism, pleasure!" — WAKE UP CHUD! You're a slave of modern reality and capitalism! You have no values! You jerk off all day and fantasize n idolize shooters that you don't even understand! God is here, watching his wretched creation killing itself!

Look at you, all day on your phone, you don't appreciate anything besides porn, dopamine and other bullshit that makes your brain go zoom. No wonder that you deny the existence of God, or something higher. And what causes your lifestyle chud? You weren't born this way, you were meant to be beautiful! The system forced you into this horrendous, pitiful lifestyle, full of distractions, earthly pleasure and other bullshit. Most of you who saw this post probably didn't even make it this far, if you did, message me your thoughts so far.

"And the Lord regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart." — Genesis 6:6

(not mine)

#tcc shitpost #tcc thoughts #tccblr #tcctard #teeceecee #true cringe community #tcc fandom #tcc tumblr

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ihopesocomicask · 1 day ago

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So uh, thanks for not killing off your one* disabled character to prove how morally gray the rest of your cast is, or how dark and edgy your plot is.

*Point of fact, thanks for having multiple disabled characters and giving them names and traits other than "is disabled and isn't it sad when they die."

It has been a rough couple of weeks in the talking animal comics sphere. I Hope So has certainly been an oasis, and I am so glad it is back to updating.

"It's been a rough couple of weeks in the talking animals comic sphere." When is it NOT a rough time in the talking animals comics sphere? lol

Not saying there's not good animal comics out there but some really do a good job of being needlessly edgy and dark in exchange for any semblance of good writing.

There's nothing wrong with actually playing into it like you would if you were writing up a horror movie but I'm sure tired of this theme of people trying to clout chase and promote their story as progressive and then it's basically throwing in serious themes with no consideration on how to handle them.

It's just "hey, I covered this serious theme but I'm not going to cover it with any amount of seriousness whatsoever actually: gimmie kudos now!".

Don't even get me started on how there's a misconception that including "adult" themes automatically makes your story mature and sophisticated either. You have early Disney movies that did a great job of appealing to adults without having to include gore or sexual themes to appeal to adults, for example. lol And killing off a disabled character doesn't need to be automatically a bad choice narratively either. It all depends on the kind of narrative you want to deliver.

A woefully dark storyline isn't necessarily a bad thing. There are quite a few movies I enjoy (Fluke being a major example) that are relentlessly heartbreaking and sad. The problem comes from people - like I've just mentioned - thinking that just including minorities experiencing relentless tragedy automatically makes their story compelling escapism on its own when that's not how these things work. If you want to appeal to these minorities, don't use said minorities to simply make people outside of said minority groups feel sad for them before ultimately casting them aside once they've served their purpose.

I appreciate that I rambled a tad here but yeah, just wanted to go over why what you mentioned bothers me too. lol - RJ

#ask #ask us stuff #rj answers #general comic stuff #comic praise

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paranoiastudio · 2 days ago

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So good in green

pairing: Aemond Targaryen х f!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, oral (m for f), pet name, friends to lovers

word count: 3,3k

English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes

- Come on, pie, it's your turn. - Aegon nudges you with his shoulder and nods at the bottle in the center of the room.

You don't remember how a noisy party at the Targaryen family home (while their parents are away, of course) turned into a quiet game of spin the bottle.

It seems like almost everyone you know is there. Aegon is on your left, Helaena is next to him. Baela and Rhaena are giggling among themselves, glancing at Luke, who has clearly been preparing for this party and trying to look good. Jace, Cassandra and Floris, their faces are already mixed from the alcohol they've consumed.

- Okay. - You rub your palms, they're sweaty as hell. Your skin slides over the soft fabric of the dress you bought the day before. It was too short, too tight and too expensive.

- I suggest we raise the stakes! - Aegon holds up the half-empty bottle of gin, into which he's poured a little tonic. - How about a game? Seven minutes in heaven?

The crowd roared and hooted at the suggestion, and you felt your palms growing damp again. You shot your friend a "what the hell are you doing?" look, but Aegon, pretending not to notice, pushed you forward again.

Seeing no other choice, you spun the wine bottle and waited dreadfully for its decision. Would you be lucky with your "friend" in the game, or would it be business as usual?

You hoped the bottle would choose Aegon. Then you could just chat in the back room and finish off that bottle of expensive gin that he would hardly part with, even for a game.

You hoped the bottle would choose Helayna. She was so sweet that seven minutes with her would be nothing but a pleasure. You would ask her to teach you how to make flowers out of the napkins the girl had been spinning all evening.

You hoped the bottle would choose Luke. He was a nice boy, you had taken art class together in high school. You could imagine kissing him; someone sweet and innocent, just like him.

You hoped the bottle would choose anyone but...

When the bottle's neck pointed directly at Aemond, your ears popped, but you could still hear Aegon's giggling "lucky you."

Aemond (what the hell was he doing here and why did he even decide to play?) silently got up and headed for the cabinet built under the large spiral staircase in the mansion's hall.

You stood up and followed him silently. You must have looked sad, because Reyna had sent you a message:

"If something goes wrong, you can always leave."

You looked up from the screen and met Aemond's eyes. He gallantly lets you in and locks the door behind you. Someone turns on the music, guaranteeing you privacy. The game has begun.

- I don't want to talk to you. - You sit down on a box and start examining your nails, which Helaina spent an hour doing.

Seven minutes in the utility room with your best friend, what could be easier? But are you friends now, after all these fights?

- Then I will talk. - He comes closer and you hold your breath. - You look so good in green.

- What are you saying? - Aemond only chuckles at your words and squeezes a long lock of your hair between his fingers, as if checking if it is real.

- I was rude to you, I'm sorry. Alys... - He falls silent, seeing how you cringe at the mention of her. - I talked to her, I think it will not hurt us...

- Talk?

- Breakup. - Your eyes meet again, you can't believe he's being honest. Rivers was a bad influence on him, separating you with constant bickering and lies about you and your relationship with your childhood friend.

- Good. I think it'll do you good.

- Us. - Aemond squeezes your hands, your heart clenching at the sight of his serious and sad face.

- Yeah. Friend. - You playfully punch him in the shoulder, but the Targaryen intercepts your hand, your fist turning into an open palm very quickly, and you almost groan when Aemond kisses the thin skin on your wrist.

- I was such an idiot. Hit me the next time I dare not choose you.

You want to answer him, but Aemond impulsively hugs you and buries his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of perfume and shower gel.

You are enveloped in the smell of mint and tobacco, which Aemond uses for rolling their own cigarettes. It is something so familiar and beloved that you relax out of habit, not believing that you are together again after a month of silence.

- I will remember this at your wedding. - You try to joke again, but Targaryen breaks away from you and gently squeezes your cheeks in his large hands.

- I am completely serious... Friend. - And at that moment his warm lips cover yours.

Your head is spinning and you do not know from what: either from the alcohol, or from the intoxicating kiss that you did not even imagine in your fantasies.

Aemond grabs your cheek with his hand and comes even closer, a groan escapes from his lips and fades in the grip of your kiss when you open your lips.

- Is this... Basil? - He pulls away, and you seem to need a second to focus. - Your lip balm.

- I think so. And green tea.

- That's... Nice. - Aemond licks his lips and smiles at you. - Can I kiss you?

- That's something you should ask before your first kiss, silly. - You run your fingers through his long blond locks that have escaped his bun. - That is, Alys is no longer...

- Alys is no longer here. - Aemond takes your hand in his and puts it to his chest. - I have denied the obvious for too long. Why am I friends with you?

- I take great notes and always carry your favorite gum with me. - You start bending your fingers.

- Come on. - He interrupts you. - You are the most energetic and creative person in my circle. You are embarrassed of yourself, not suspecting how wonderful you are. Especially in this dress... You are kind to me and my family, it is easier for me to think and do things with you. I... I love you.

These words have been spinning in your head for a long time, so when they finally sounded out loud, you were not even surprised. Of course, this is love. You were always there, helping with friends and homework, you learned to swim and play polo together. Even after school, you ended up in the same university, in related programs.

A scene pops into your head where Aemond feeds you hot soup and apologizes every minute, because in order to give him the books he needed for his studies, you drove across the entire city, got caught in the rain and got sick.

And when you had no one to go dancing with, he overcame his dislike of crowds and loud music and went with you. All evening Aemond was nice to everyone around him and only you knew how hard it was for him.

- I love you. - No more words sound, Aemond kisses you again and you respond faster than last time. And much more willingly.

You seem to be burning in his arms, but at the same time your skin is covered in goosebumps. Aemond hangs over you, as if closing you off from the world with his impressive figure. His legs spread themselves and he is already impermissibly close to you, and his skillful tongue squirms in your throat.

The music fades and you break the kiss first, glancing warily at the door. Aemond makes a sound you would describe as a "disappointed chuckle" and turns around.

- Seven minutes up, lovebirds. - You see Aegon's cheerful and even more drunken face and Helaena's worried face behind you. - How are you doing?

- We're leaving. - Aemond takes your hand and you jump off the crate, the difference in your heights becoming even more noticeable.

- It seems to have gone well, huh, little brother? - Aegon pokes his brother in the chest and chuckles. - Bless you, my children.

You go upstairs and you honestly don't think about why until the door to the youngest Targaryen's bedchamber closes behind you.

You look around as if you've never been here before, but today everything is different. You are distracted from this thought by the kiss that Aemond left on your exposed neck.

- I wanted to take you away from everyone as soon as I saw you. You have no idea how beautiful you are. - You close your eyes at another kiss. - I have to buy you another green dress.

- Well, I can't refuse. - You hug Aemond by the neck and reach for a kiss yourself, accepting the rules of this game. The Targaryen hugs you, his large palms sliding over the material of the dress and lifting the hem up.

- I've been pushing this thought away for so long... - Aemond looks straight into your eyes. - Wanting your friend is wrong, right?

- Depends on the situation. What do you do when your friend wants it too? - You jump out of your shoes and reach for the thin laces on your back when you are stopped.

- I myself. - You lower your hands silently, Aemond doesn't look like he's joking.

You find yourself with your back to him again, trembling with impatience. Aemond's fingers straighten out the bow, then the knot that you've fastened very tightly and you feel the fabric slide over your body, exposing you more and more.

A green puddle has formed around your legs, you hear Aemond sigh, seeing the lack of a bra on you. You cover your chest and turn to face him, feeling the obvious wetness on the thin lace of your panties.

- Don't hide from me. - You smile, these are the very words you told him when your wonderful Aemond lost an eye in a terrible childhood fight with his nephew.

You lower your hands and the Targaryen's eyes greedily explore your chest, as if he is afraid to touch you. But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to...

- It's so weird... We used to be able to hug without embarrassment, you stayed at my place...

- I didn't think about it like I do now. If I had my way, I would have devoured you already. - With these words, Aemond pushes you onto the bed and hangs over you, the fact that he is still fully dressed makes you even more embarrassed.

You've been friends for as long as you can remember. And all these years, you shared your preferences in love and sex with each other. You knew everything about each of Aemond's girlfriends (there weren't many), except for Alys Rivers, who appeared so suddenly and separated you so quickly.

All your dates were also always discussed in detail over a cup of tea (or something stronger). Aemond knew exactly what you needed, and now he was going to brazenly use this information.

You pull the black sweater off him, reaching for a kiss again. It all feels so right, as if you had done this many times before.

Aemond closes his lips on your neck, moving down, muttering under his breath in High Valyrian, the dead language he's learning beyond the curriculum.

Kissing your senses ticular nipple, Aemond blows on it, looking up at you with a wicked smile. You wriggle under him and spread your legs, letting him come closer, you have never wanted someone so much.

Your skin is covered in goosebumps from the feather-light fingers of your lover, who has already gone down to the edge of your underwear and is playing with the small white bow in the front.

- Please, Aemond, touch me more... - You allow yourself to say whatever comes into your head, and Aemond seems to like it. - I need you.

- Where do you need me, baby? - He is already playing with you through your panties, but does not go further, driving you crazy.

- Here. - You shamelessly cover his hand with yours, increasing the pressure. - It hurts.

You really are squeezing so hard around the void that it hurts, the hot walls are pulling and you whine louder, forcing Aemond to caress you more intensely.

- Here? - He pushes aside the material soaked in your juices and penetrates inside with one finger, they are so long that you cringe slightly from the suddenness of the invasion. - Did it hurt?

- No... - You quickly get used to it and sit down on the finger yourself, demanding more. - Just a little more.

- I always knew you were greedy, so to be so... I will have to take up your education.

Everything inside you turns over from these words, as if he makes a promise that this will happen again, and most likely more than once.

Rising up on your elbows, you can see how his thin fingers move back and forth, plunging into you with a squelching sound. You tremble as the rough pad of his thumb rests on your clit, lightly playing with it, not allowing you to relax.

- It's like you're sucking me in, baby. - Aemond curves his fingers, touching the furthest places and hitting that rough spot inside, making you curl your toes.

- Oh, my God! - You lean back, unable to watch as Aemond pulls your underwear off and settles between your legs, licking greedily.

- It's just me, baby. - Your open mouth refuses on your wet folds and you stop thinking. Aemond greedily and methodically eats you out, never stopping the movement of his fingers. - Do you think you deserve an orgasm? What did you call me during our last fight?

You moan and jerk your head, as if refuting his words. All you wanted now was to cum on his beautiful hand that fucks you so well.

- Right... You called me a donkey, remember?

- N-no... No, please, I'm so close... Aemond! - You scream from the sudden movement, you're almost at the edge.

- You don't remember? - His chiseled chin and lips were in your juices when he looked away and looked at you. - I think for this I'll leave you like this...

- Aemond, I didn't mean to. Please... - Tears are flowing from your eyes, you really need this release.

- Only because you ask me so well, kitten. - He presses his lips to you again and you involuntarily throw your hips up, getting lost in your euphoria.

You are shaking, your muscles are contracting and you feel your own smell. Aemond carefully licks you until you calm down in his hands. He kisses you just below your belly button and ends up on top, completely naked and ready.

You didn't notice when he undressed, and it takes a few seconds for your eyes to focus. Aemon smiles at you, seeing how disheveled and contented you are.

- I'm not done with you yet, baby. - Aemon easily flips you over onto your stomach.

You rise up onto your elbows, sticking your ass out for his greedy gaze. Aemon's large hands squeeze your ass cheeks and spread them apart, his large head teasing at the entrance.

- Will you let me take you like this? - Aemon leans down to you. - I checked after Alys, everything is fine.

- I haven't been with anyone since... - Your friend knew about your bad breakup. - I'd be happy if you fucked me without a condom.

Aemond groans at your dirty words and kisses the top of your head before pushing inside. God, his cock is big, you hiss from the unfamiliar stretch and expose yourself to your lover's gentle touches.

- You take me so damn well, baby. - Targaryen slowly picks up the pace, holding your hip with one hand and squeezing the hair at the back of your head with the other.

You throw your head back, getting even wetter from the sounds of his slender hips hitting your ass. Aemond enters all the way, panting in your ear and squeezing you everywhere, as if trying to keep you close.

You fall chest first onto the bed, feeling another orgasm. Targaryen pushes against your hips, fucking you fast and hard, as if he's angry. The sounds he makes make you drip onto the sheets, and you feel like the dirtiest, and at the same time, most desirable woman in the world.

You bite into something with your teeth, it's Aemond's college sweatshirt. You moan even louder, the knowledge that you're desperate for your best friend's cock turns you on even more.

- Yeah, keep squeezing me, bird. I can feel you… - Your ass literally bounces with every movement, and you slide your hand to your clit, stimulating yourself even more.

Aemond fucks you hard and fast, like he's mad. The second orgasm hits you hard, you clench and twitch, a wave of goosebumps runs across your skin and you finally fall apart with a long moan.

- The most wonderful ass I have ever seen. - Aemond almost slips out of you, but does not leave you completely. - I noticed this when you started doing yoga.

- Aemond... - You whine from stimulation, your eyes are slightly dark after the orgasm, but the desire was still strong, you are ready to take everything he decides to give you.

- You are so good to me, baby. - Targaryen leaves light kisses along your spine. - Little minx, let me fill this beautiful pussy...

You whine again and bounce slightly on the bed. Aemond squeezes your buttocks painfully, the sight of them bouncing in front of him drove him crazy.

- I bet you'd let me fuck you in that beautiful ass. - Aemond resumes his movements. - I'd love to mark you in every way possible...

- Please, Aemond! - Every nerve in your body was strained to the limit, you stretched out like an arrow, greedily absorbing the man's hard length and the wet sounds you made for Aemond. Only for Aemond.

- What do you want, sweetheart? - Targaryen's voice trembled slightly, his hips jerked more and more erratically, he was close.

- Cum inside me, please... - You turn around and do not look away anymore, trying to memorize every feature of his ecstasy. - I need it so much...

The blonde lets out a hoarse growl and hammers you into the bed, muttering something under his breath. Your voice was hoarse, but you continued to whisper dirty things to Aemond about how much you wanted to belong to him.

- Avy jorrelan. - You know what that means, you helped Aemond learn Valyrian and managed to memorize a few things.

- And I love you. - And at that moment Aemond cums, plunging into you and filling you with hot seed. You feel him pulsate inside you and moan in bliss.

Aemond carefully slips out of you, and while you were trying to catch your breath, he went to the bathroom. You heard the sound of water, and then a wet cloth touched you, Aemond cleaned up the mess you made, carefully wiped the cum off you and lay down next to you.

- We need to shower. - You twirl a long blond strand of his hair around your finger.

- Yes, but later. - Targaryen scoops you up into his arms and hugs you. - Just a little bit more...

- I won't run away from you. - You giggle, getting comfortable.

- Now you definitely won't run away. - Aemond kisses the top of your head and you hear the sound of his heartbeat, his deep breathing and you feel completely at peace.

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