#tw; arguing

[sluttywonwoo]

Whatever you say, beautiful

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

Ignoring the haters who would win in said fighting match for Ethan 🤔

[callllio]

[tiredandsleepyaf]

Ok, so let me explain why rebloging posts like these do little to nothing to assure Jews that they’ll be safe around you.

Goyim reblogging this stuff don’t typically listen to Jews (which is apparent because we’ve said stuff like this doesn’t actually do anything to help us many times) about their experiences with antisemitism or listen when Jews try to educate them on things like antisemitic dog whistles or blood libel. Most of them are way more enthusiastic about punching Nazis than they are about showing any compassion to Jews. I’d venture to guess the majority of Jewish people know that often the goyim who reblog this stuff are just out for blood and don’t give a damn about us, because we’ve seen this many times. Not to mention that the desire for a violent revolution that some leftists seem to have has led to Jewish people facing a lot of antisemitism (at their hands). I would bet that some of the people reblogging this act similar to Nazis themselves. I know at the very least the goyim rebloging this don’t listen to Jews because we’ve said many times that this sort of thing doesn’t really do anything to help us, and we’d much rather goyim call out and learn about antisemitism. Overall, it’s just very performative activism, and it’s pretty obvious that the goyim reblogging this are just doing it to try and make themselves look better, and not for the sake of Jews.

[fuzzy-w0rms]

…

[hedwig221b]

“Where is he?” Stiles rumbled, glancing at each member of the pack in front of him, before settling his incinerating gaze on one person he once considered a brother. “Tell me, Scott, where is my husband?”

Stiles knew the moment it happened that something was terribly wrong. It was the middle of the night when he was woken up by a scorching hot fire, running up his entire body. It took him a full minute of panicked breathing to realize it wasn’t a nightmare, but the pain of his mate he felt through their bond. It stopped rather abruptly, but that did little to calm him.

He didn’t feel Derek. On the other end of the bond, blessedly still existing, there was no usual warmth and steady presence. There was nothing but agonizing emptiness.

Stiles knew, he felt that it was wrong to let Derek pick up their son from Beacon Hills alone. Eli whined all week that he missed his grandpa and Derek, who couldn’t for his life say ‘no’ to their son, volunteered to drive him over for a mini-vacation.

Stiles should have listened to his gut, tell his boss to fuck off and go with them.

It took one wave of a shaking hand to open the portal. He didn’t care about the magic exhaustion. He wanted his husband.

To say that BH residents were shocked to see the empty space in front of them tearing apart in a strobe of lightning…

“I couldn’t do anything,” Scott shook his head, looking up at him remorsefully. Stiles learnt long ago not to believe him.

“Papa!”

Eli.

Stiles raced to his son, who was sitting on the cold ground, reaching with both of his hands towards him. His entire face was red and wet from tears, though his eyes shined beautiful gold.

“Oh, pup,” he murmured, taking Eli into his arms. The boy put his forehead on his shoulder and sniffed silent tears. It was obvious he was in too much of a shock to tell anything — Eli clutched at his father’s back, digging into the skin with the claws, but Stiles paid them no mind.

As Stiles shushed his pup, scratching the back of his head, he looked up at Scott with murder in his eyes.

“Where is he?”

“Nogitsune,” Stiles’ father rasped. He looked almost as awful as his grandson.

“He sacrificed himself,” Scott interrupted him, clenching his jaw. “For the greater good. For the pa—“

Stiles shut him up with a growl he learnt from his husband.

“We have our own pack!”

“He helped kill the nogitsune,” Scott insisted, stepping closer, but then immediately flinching backwards at Stiles’ glare. “He died as a hero.”

Eli’s anxious and terrified breathing grew heavier.

“Shh,” Stiles muttered in his messy hair. “He didn’t die, pup, it’s alright.”

He didn’t know what the fuck happened that brought the fucking thing back, but apparently it had something to do with Derek’s disappearance.

Oh, he would never allow them to take another step in this forsaken place anymore.

“Nogitsune can’t be killed,” he grit out, taking Eli’s hands from him and standing up. “Dad, look after him. Take him to your house, make a mountain ash circle — he’s not in control yet.”

“Stiles…”

“Our bond is alive,” Stiles shouted, making everyone shut up again. “I don’t see a body, and I bet you didn’t scream, either,” he thrust an accusatory finger at the banshee, who just looked away in shame. “If I’m not back in an hour, call Kira.”

---

“Papa?”

“Yes, pup?”

Eli stomped in one place near the bedroom door, glancing nervously at Stiles. He was afraid to look at his dad’s scarred face.

“Is he gonna live?”

Stiles looked up from his husband’s burnt red skin on his torso, but didn’t stop moving his glowing golden-white hands in an intricate pattern of healing magic. Derek already looked better than fifteen minutes ago. By the morning, Derek wouldn’t feel an ounce of pain and all his scars will be gone.

“Of course,” he smiled tiredly. “You know dad’s a tough cookie.”

Eli shuffled towards the bed and fell on his knees in front of it, putting his chin on the bed. He leaned on his side, putting half of his weight on Stiles’ legs. His big eyes didn’t leave his dad’s still body.

Stiles wanted to hug his little boy so much, but it will have to wait. For now he just nudged Eli with his toes, making him look up at him.

“I’m proud of you, Eli,” he said quietly. Eli squeezed his eyes shut and put his temple against Stiles’ knee, breathing harshly. “You shifted. That’s amazing.”

“Lot of good it did,” Eli muttered. “If I was faster…”

“Nuh-uh, the guilt wagon is stopping right now,” Stiles shook his head. “Dad wouldn’t have risked taking you with him back to that inside-out place. None of this is your fault, kiddo.”

Eli sniffed.

Suddenly, Derek grunted something under his breath. All attention instantly zeroed on the wolf, both his mate and his son waiting with bated breath for another sign of consciousness. One of Derek’s hands, lying closest to the edge, moved bit by bit, until it reached Stiles’ knee.

Eli sniffed once again, then carefully took his dad’s hand, mindful of still healing burns, and put it on Stiles’ knee, then laid his head on top. Clever pup, letting his Alpha know his pack was here.

“Eli,” Derek breathed out, his eyelids fluttering.

“Shh,” Stiles shushed immediately, lightly caressing his cheek with his glowing hand. “He’s alright.”

“Stiles.”

“I’m here, love. You’re safe.”

Derek relaxed once again, falling into much needed sleep.

“See,” Stiles said with a relieved smile, looking down at Eli, who finally had some hope in his puppy eyes and a wobbly smile on his lips. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

ao3

[shotarotual]

SUNGCHAN "impossible" mv behind the scenes

[fxtalitygod]

Survival. IX

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentions of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint)

Word Count: 3.4k

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

You remembered the most content morning you had ever had. It was a relatively beautiful and tranquil day in the garden. The sky was clear, and the sun was beaming brightly, yet the weather was pleasant. It was the most satisfying day you had ever had within the temple.

It was also the day your twins spoke their first word.

You had been spending quality time with your twins, your attendant joining the activities as you both basked in their childish nature. She had grown as close as family and acted like an aunt to your kids, and if you were being honest, she felt like a sister to you in some sense. You truly appreciated her company and assistance throughout the time you had known her— especially when sharing this memorable moment.

It felt like it was out of a dream when the word effortlessly slipped from your daughter’s mouth. Moments ago, she was a child who only knew how to babble, laugh, and cry, but now she was a little girl capable of speaking. And if your daughter hadn’t surprised you enough, your son letting the same word slip next had left you paralyzed with shock.

“Mama.”

Yes, it was a standard word for a child to speak first other than Dada or Papa— a cliché, as most would say, but that was the last thing on your mind. To hear your child acknowledge you for the first time and know they recognize you as their mother was a pleasure that could not compare to the joys of sex, alcohol, or money– it is a pleasantry of its own. You swore you would do anything to hear them call you their "Mama" for as long as possible.

And if anyone took that away from you, they would be damned to hell.

The screams of a woman echoed through the temple. The shrieks were ear-splitting and could cause anybody's ears to bleed upon walking into the hearing radius. You could only listen as the screams continued, the sound muffling out as your ears began to ring again.

Why was she screaming? The woman in question should have been thrilled that your children were deceased– they would have been a threat to her. She was probably trying to win Sukuna's favor in some fucked up way. The bitch had no right to grieve in your presence nor in solitude. You had every want to strangle her soundless; however, something stopped you from that impulse.

Your throat began to burn.

At that moment, you realized the screams of grief and agony were those of your own. Nobody was present in that room, just you and Sukuna, as your cries echoed in the room and nearby halls. You were blinded by your own tears as you stared at the now-blurry image of your twin's hanging corpses, choking on your own sobs as you collapsed to the ground, holding your midriff with the painful thought that the life you had cultivated within you for nine months and raised for six years was now reduced to carcasses hanging from a wall.

Your blessings had been snatched from you, from right under your nose.

You should have known things would have not been so simple. You should have never let your guard down for even a second. This was your punishment for being so blissfully ignorant when you should have analyzed all the possible faults in your plan and anticipated any threats that remained to perform a clean escape.

You stood on weak legs, shuffling to the wall that was covered in blood. In your mind, you always thought that the blankness of those walls would drive you mad– you never anticipated that the splash of color would be the thing that forced you to insanity. The crimson dripping down the wall proved you wrong.

Your hands shook as your fingers hovered over the pins that were holding your children in place, flinching back as you swallowed the bile rising up your throat before reaching for one of the pins again. You made an attempt to hold back your sobs but with little success. Huffs, spittles, and gurgles continued to resonate from you as you held back your cries– you looked pathetic.

Your hands felt weak as you pulled the pin, the audible squelching sound of the flesh rubbing against the item sickening you to the core, yet you persisted. You pulled the lower pins that you could reach from your son and daughter, tears gushing out of your eyes as you did so. No torture was as great as this, especially when you went to reach the higher ones. You stood on your toes, stretching for the pins that were sunk into your twin's hands, but it was futile. Under normal circumstances, you could have reached that high; you would have improvised a way to do it, but your mind was numb, and your body felt weak.

"Help me," you choked as you continued to reach.

The only response you got was silence.

"Please," you weakly whispered, "Please, help me."

Silence lingered again, but before you could plea a second time– your husband spoke.

"Why?"

You paused in your movement, your breath hitching as the simple word echoed in your head.

"Why?" you repeated, bewilderment found in your whisper, "Why?"

Your head slowly turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes gleaming with fury as you looked at Sukuna.

"I'll tell you why," you seethed, "For eight years, I have lived in this temple with you and your sickened whores and bastards– lived in your residence with little to no complaint. I have endured everything bestowed upon me and have managed to keep my spine straight with my head held high– and when in your presence, I have given you nothing but the lowest bows of respect despite the falsities of that action; I sacrificed my pride!" you paused to breathe before continuing, "I bore you children and dealt the blunt trauma of my impossible pregnancy and labor without complaint or ask of favor because you and I both know I would have gladly died in the process. In my life here, I have asked you for ONE SINGULAR FAVOR that would benefit both of us!"

Another pause as you caught your breath.

"The very least you could do," your voice shook with exasperation, "is grant me this one selfish wish."

"Do you understand the line you are crossing, Little Flower," Sukuna threatened as he took a few steps forward.

"Well aware," you answered without hesitation, "but at least if you killed me now, I would reunite with my children and be rid of you," you grinned mockingly at your partner.

You watched as the menacing man raised a hand, keeping eye contact with you as he did so. Normally you would have feared that this was the end of the line, but that was before your worst nightmare had already came true. Some part of you wished that he would hit you, hoping that once he did, he would snap you out of what you hoped what was an illusion of some sort, a night terror, a cursed technique, possibly a hallucination— all three were very much possibilities, but deep down you knew you were in denial, however, you did not want to accept it.

The slap never came.

Instead, your companion reached his arm above you, removing the pins that held your twins hostage against the wall. Sukuna took his time, clearly in no rush, leaving you antsy as you began to wriggle in impatience. You just wanted to hold them and look upon their innocent face. Maybe they were not dead, maybe there was still a breath of life in them, and you could somehow convince your husband to use his curse reversal technique on them due to the terms of your contract.

Maybe, just maybe…

Once the last pins restraining your children were removed, you were quick to cradle your twins, holding them close to your chest as more sobs escaped from your quivering lips. Your fingers lightly touched their skin as you caressed their faces with motherly gentleness. After moments, your cries subsided into a quiet lament as you continued to hold your little boy and girl.

You would have done anything to prevent this fate.

"Mama..." a voice spoke, but excessively strained and quiet.

You jumped up to see your little boy's eyes open no more than a slit. Without hesitation, you rushed to grab his face, babbling words of encouragement for him to stay awake. You were eager as you prepared to attempt to perform reverse cursed technique, but before you could, another strained voice sounded.

"Ma-Mama."

You panicked once more, moving to face your daughter as her condition was nearly the same. You were torn on what to do and had almost turned to Sukuna for his assistance, but it was useless. As quickly as those words were spoken were as fast as they faded back into eternal sleep.

What was this? You had to ask again, but what had you done to deserve this? To be worthy of this torture? Was there not a more deserving candidate for this cruelty you were enduring? Had you just been born to be cursed like this?

Questions raveled your mind, and thoughts ate at you alive– you were beginning to spiral. Your voice, along with many of the other voices from your past, flooded your head, screaming at you all at once as the memories began to invade your consciousness. Your head was starting to hurt from lingering in your mind, far away from reality. If anyone were to look upon your form, you would seem like the hollow husk of a woman based on how you sat there unmoving and totally silent as you stared blankly at the bloody wall– it seemed like you were looking through it like a piece of glass, that is how lost you were, until...

Everything went silent.

The voices in your head had settled, and all you could hear was Sukuna's breathing and your own echoing throughout the room. It was eerily quiet as the two of you remained.

"Their first words were their last."

You spoke without thought; the words had just slipped as you turned back to the father of your children, being met with his expressionless stare. You did not expect a response, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was no happier about this situation than you were; however, Sukuna was not grieving like you were. Your reasons for your dour moods were different, but that did not matter– you both were upset about what occurred.

As you held your husband's stare, it was almost as if you had some sort of understanding with one another, communicating without speaking before turning your attention back to your twins. With caution, you gently lifted your children into your arms, slowly standing as you managed to balance their limp bodies in your hold as you walked toward the door.

Your feet moved without command as you walked through the corridor, Sukuna walking at your side as you ventured in silence. The experience was almost that of your arrival at the temple– all eyes were on you; however, there were no whispers of gossip or vial comments and disgusting displays of arousal as you departed. The tension radiating from your aura was too great for such ill manners to be publicly displayed.

You had no clue where you were going and were hardly thinking about it. Your mind was void of consciousness as you reached the grand doors of the temple, stepping out into the cool night air. A part of you wishes you could have enjoyed it, to relish your first time outside the temple walls since your marriage, but the feeling was bitter and dull, especially as you looked upon the lights illuminating from your village.

Trekking through the terrain, you watched the lights grow brighter and more prominent, similar to the unknown feeling festering in your chest. You could hear their voices, their chanting of uprising as you approached the crowd, stopping just at the border of your village. One of the village elders was the first to notice you and Sukuna's approaching figures before ceasing the noise, focusing on your arrival.

"Y/n L/n, you have finally come home. Your family will be happy to know that you have finally returned," pausing to look at Sukuna before bringing his attention back to you, "It was wise of this monster to return you as requested. Come now child, we shall reunite you with your family."

You could hear him speak and understand his meaning and indirect stab at Sukuna's pride, but the words flowed from one ear to the other as your body remained rooted at the barrier.

"Come now, child, you are free!" the elder insisted as he motioned to you, confused and seemingly irritated at your lack of response.

"No."

The word slipped out seamlessly as you blankly stared at the man, watching his expression turn into shock.

"What do you mean, 'No'?"

"It means what I said," you simply responded before continuing, "Why would I come back to a home that sent me away like a lamb to the slaughter. You presented me like a slab of meat to the man you call a monster as if he were some valued patron, but suddenly, I have become worthy of retrieval after how many years? Why is that?"

"You ungrateful woman! We have pursued you for some time due to your parents' request. They paid handsomely to bring you back home, paid enough to fund our cause."

"And what cause was that?!" you retaliated.

"To kill that vile creature who stole you from us, my dear daughter!"

"...Mother," you whispered to yourself as your mom came into view, your father following her as they made their presence known.

"But it seems his influence has already tainted your mind," your mother spoke with a solemn look in her eyes, "But we can fix that if you just come home." the woman persisted as she held her arms out for a welcoming embrace.

Her comfort was tempting, but there was a lingering feeling of hesitance the longer you looked at the picture. This was something you wished for a long time, to be welcomed home with open arms, but the dream seemed stale as you stood there unmoving.

"Then why were harmless children slaughtered in his place?" you questioned.

"Harmless?" your parents uttered, baffled by your statement, "Those children were born to become monsters along with their father! They were far from harmless! That is why we had to cut them out of the picture!" your father yelled.

"...You did it?" you softly asked.

You could see your father's mouth open before closing, moving his gaze from your eyes to the motionless bodies in your arms. The disgusted faces your parents held were replaced with one of bewilderment and fear. They could finally understand your reluctance.

"Y/n..."

"They were harmless..." you started in a mutter, "They were not monsters! They were innocent! And you accused them of crimes they have never committed!"

"With their upbringing, it would have been inevitable! They were their father's children, after all!" the village elder interrupted, disdain laced in his voice.

"They were not guilty of Sukuna's crimes! They were innocent children!" you voiced, outraged with the small-minded thinking.

You looked to your parents for support but were only met by them avoiding your stare. They believed their actions were reasonable and considered them valid. You were not the one who was influenced... they were.

"Damn you all," you muttered, turning your back to the villagers.

"We did this for you to survive, Y/n! And here you are, well and alive. You kept your promise, so please come home!"

"Survived...survived..." Your chest heaved as you began to laugh hysterically. You placed your children down before rising, "Is this what survival is, just staying alive? Well, if that is the case, then yes, I have survived just like I promised, but with the cost of my life! I may have survived, but I will never live...not without them."

"There will be other opportunities to have children, my dear, with a far better suitor," your mother attempted to persuade, her arms still held open.

"Excuse me?"

That had done it.

"The man you practically sold me to was far from my first choice of significant other, but at least he managed to give my life some meaning, something to live for...and you took it from me, the last crowd of people I thought would do such a thing...how naive of me."

"Y/n, if we-"

"If you what?! Tell me, if you had known those children were mine, would you have spared them, given them mercy?"

No response.

"That's what I thought. You know I had hoped to come home with open arms, and shown by tonight, my wish came true; however, that was before I had the twins– the dream expanded to have all three of us welcomed with warmth...how pitifully optimistic of me."

"Y/n, I cannot tell you those events you hoped for would have come to fruition, but I can tell you this: you can start over, have a family you have always dreamed of... pure children."

Silence.

"They. Were. PURE!"

And just like that, the extent of that unusual feeling lingering in your chest had unleashed. The full extent of your furry had combusted in the form of your cursed energy and technique. Within the blink of an eye, what was once a bustling village full of chatter and laughter was now a blazing inferno filled with screams and cries.

You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their bodies contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were retired to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.

Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.

Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollers of distress with its rapid thumping.

They were now suffering the pain and torture you had suffered for years to its full extent...

Unlike you, it was the kind of punishment they deserved.

You allowed yourself to view the sight for a few seconds longer before picking up your son and daughter, balancing them in your embrace again, and turning your back towards the village. You began to walk toward the temple, knowing better than to run off, but it was not like you had a reason to go anywhere else. There was no life for you. You were to remain by Sukuna's side until you died, and you were content with that.

"Y/n."

With all the heightened emotions and events that occurred only moments ago, you had forgotten Sukuna was there. The curse user had not muttered a word nor made a movement. He idly watched your wrath unfold, watched as you burnt your home to the ground.

You paused for a minute, looking blankly ahead as you thought of the past and reflected on your choices. Out of every action you committed, there was one you regretted most.

"I should have killed myself that morning, the morning after the ceremony. It would have saved me a lot of trouble and heartache."

With that, you walked off into the night, letting that thought of regret linger in your mind.

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya@pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one@rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade

[raccoonpog]

borrowed a tablet

[lilybug-02]

……?

Part 19 || First || Previous || Next

—Full Series—

Thought I’d split it into two parts bc 9 pages is a lot to scroll through :) plus reasons! See you tomorrow!

[mikka-minns]

Im here to tell you that Utena having to go by stairs changing to her having to go by elevator symbolizes her thinking she has it easier now. That its more simple. That she gets it now.

But NO

She is trapped now.

Once there were stairs, she could just turn back.

Once there were stairs, she could go by her own feet, in her own speed.

But now, that all gone.

Now, she can only get in and only get out once the elevator stops.

She is in a Cage and She doesnt even realise it.

This isnt a ride worthy of a real prince, its a prison that you walk in. One that you cant call a prison because from the outside it looks beautiful.

"its easier" they say. But its realy hard to get out once you are in.

ZETTAI-

[citricacidprince]

Y'all need to be fucking nicer to men/masc queers

I was talking to an old friend/short lived boyfriend from highschool and the topic of sexualities came up. He identified as bisexual throughout highschool but told me that recently he doesn't know what he was and just preferred to remain 'unlabeled' until he figured it out. I told him to his face "thats valid man and being unlabeled doesn't make you any less queer than when you were labeled"

God you should've seen his fucking face, he looked so happy and also like he was about to goddamn cry. He told me that no one ever told him that. That he tried to join queer spaces but they said he didn't fit in cause he wasn't 'gay' enough. Told me that I was the first person to ever confidently tell him he was queer and that he didn't need to change himself to 'fit in'.

I gave my friend one of my mini pride flags I had lying around and the dopey grin he had on his face while waving that thing around for the rest of the night made me smile too. When he finally went home he thanked me for the flag and for reassuring him when he felt insecure for 'not being gay enough'.

I want y'all to know that whole time he telling me about people not accepting him for "not looking queer" made me fucking pissed. Oh, because he's not petite, feminine, and white he can't be queer? Because he doesn't look like a fashionable and conventionally pretty gay on you'd find on your TikTok homepage he can't be queer?

THIS ISN'T EVEN THE FIRST TIME I'VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION WITH A FRIEND BEFORE

In highschool I had ANOTHER friend who had this same problem but in a different font. He liked cute things, he liked flowing fabrics and skirts, he even liked being called princess! But because he was fat and not conventionally attractive he felt like he couldn't be queer. Because from what he saw, queer people don't look like him.

If you're one of those people who would gatekeep ANYONE who doesn't fit into your Pinterest board ideal version of queer from the LGBTQ+ community, you can fuck right off because anyone who would just shut of someone out of our community for something so petty and dumb and ignorant doesn't deserve the keys to the fucking door in the first place.

Start treating people who don't fit into your saturated and commercialized view of queer with more respect and kindness before I start biting off your fucking arms

[uncanny-tranny]

Okay, are belly button piercings "trashy," or do you just associate them with femininity, or women, or sex work and strike it down as inherently less worthy? Are 'tramp stamps' "trashy", or do you just associate them with femininity, or women, or sex work and strike it down as inherently less worthy? Is pole dance "trashy", or do you associate it with women, or sex work and strike it down as inherently less worthy?

These are examples, but I find it interesting when people link things with womanhood or femininity or - gasp! - sex work and then immediately condemn, scrutinize, and dehumanize those who even dapple a little in these things, even if it isn't for sex work or to "look trashy." It's funny how the feminine or woman is seen as trashy until proven otherwise, and it's shameful that people still hold the bias that women must prove their humanity by not "being trashy" or "acting like a hooker."

[favroitecrime]

The UN. Do you understand the kind of audacity and security one must have to do this, any of it, for 6 months and never fear resistance?

[ghouljams]

ALSO if roachs womb signature is fae magic,, when he meets up with ghost or the other guys by chance with bookworm (his darling) dO THEY STEAL HIS IDEA??? AND like imagine price somehow hearing this idea and just drifts off into a daydream about his Witch having a *permanent* mark of him, and not even that but its his NAME? duuude hes just gone

*gripping your shoulders and gritting my teeth* do you have any idea how badly I want to give Witch a womb tattoo. Do you have any idea how fucking feral I am for this woman? How feral Price is for her???? GOD

"You're all caged up again," Price tells you looking over the spread you'd laid out this morning. A full tableau of Lenormand, it's a new moon and you'd like to see what coming. You hum, stirring an extra spoon of honey into your ginger tea.

"Correct," you tell him, let him fill in the rest since he's so- You take a breath to steady your thoughts, there's no need to snap over a little concern. "It's that time of the month," you sigh, "don't want anything sniffing me out."

"Blood and magic," Price agrees, "better safe than sorry." He goes back to inspecting your cards. You hardly think he knows what he's looking at, parsing the spiral can make even you a little dizzy.

You assume that's the end of that and go back to your tea. The magical cage you put yourself in makes you a little nauseous the first day, easy enough to remedy. Your lips twitch into a frown as your spell work shifts. The ashen paint and runes moving like snakes against your skin. You don't like that one bit. You turn to look at Price who has his hand raised, his finger stilled in the air at your glaring.

"Don't," you warn him, your skin burning with foreign magic.

"I can help," he promises and you go to stand in front of him. You grip his chin, tip his head back to look at you, his hands grip your hips, thumbs digging into your stomach and rubbing out the ache of cramps.

"I don't need help," you tell him sternly.

"You're all caged up when I can just-" he presses his palm bellow your belly button and your stomach jumps. Heat swims through you, scorches over you really, all your seals forgotten in favor of clutching at Price's shoulders and shuddering. He smooths his hand around to hold your back, tug you close to press his face against you. You can hear the heavy inhale of his breathing, smelling you, smelling whatever he did. "God," he breathes, "you are going to hate this."

"What did you do?" Your suspicion seems to break whatever spell is over him. Price lets you go, leans back and waves a hand.

"Temporary measure, don't worry," that makes you more worried actually, "better than your cage, prettier too."

You don't waste time trying to parse what he means, you go to your bedroom and strip. It's hard to miss. All your previous marks seem to have consolidated themselves over your pelvis. Sigils loop over your womb, spreading up your hips like the limbs of a tree to spell out Price's name. You could kill him. You might kill him. It's weird that your cramps are gone.

You glare at Price's mark. You can feel his magic hugging you, the tendrils of it stroking your muscles. You wonder if he's siphoning off the pain, if he's eating your magic through whatever he's drawn on you. You don't bother getting dressed when you storm out to confront him. Better to do this on unequal footing you think.

[chaotic-mystery]

Pairing: dbf!Joel x reader

Summary: it’s my take on what illicit affairs means. Every time I listened to it I imagined Joel, specifically dbf Joel. I hope the swifties go *easy* on me and pls don’t say anything if you didn’t like it.

Warnings: angst. And more angst. Swearing, forbidden relationship, arguing, fwb, alluded age gap but not specified. Use of nicknames (kid, baby……don’t look at me ok I didn’t do IT), reader is not physically described, no use of y/n. I think that’s everything but tell me if I’ve missed something! || wc: 1.8k || a/n: I love you @planet-marz1 for beta reading this & all my babies who held my balls and pushed me through this <3 thank you thank you thank you. ||

He was someone you should have never been attracted to. Your parents’ friend, a family friend. Someone they trusted to watch over you if they left town, to check on you as if he cared about you. No one noticed the lingering stares frequent more and more with each stop at your parents home. No one noticed the way you returned the gazes at him, the longing feeling of wanting to feel his mouth all over your body with his hands not far behind to get any spot he missed. It all came together when your dad had a party, the champagne coursing inside you and giving a little liquid courage. Joel couldn’t keep his eyes off of you and it didn’t feel wrong, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself it was. Nothing more was going to come from this, it was just a fling for the night and you’d go right back to how things were. At least that’s what you told yourself when you kissed him in the laundry room, the soft orange glow casted over you two from the street lamp outside.

Yet here you are months later, telling everyone you were going out for a walk, already covering up your demeanor for when you return. Joel parked down at the end of the block and you found yourself reciting that you can always stop this whenever you wanted to. He’s careful not to sit there for too long after you get inside his truck.

“Did anyone see you?” He asks, wiping over his mustache quickly while he looks in the rearview mirror about a dozen times.

“No, they didn’t see me.” You mutter from behind your hood. You reached out to grab his hand from his thigh, tucking your fingers between his palm and the fabric of his jeans.

“Okay, good. Good. Missed you.” He says as he pulls into the same vacant lot as last time. It wasn’t always like this, parking here behind the abandoned mall. He used to book hotel rooms for you two so you’d feel safe with him, feel special. The red rose petals scattered everywhere on the floor and the bed no matter how cheesy it was, you liked it. It was a scarlet colored secret between only you two and it was thrilling to keep, in a way. The more you met up with Joel, the less distance he put in between your town and the lucky room for the night. Nights turned into a couple hours, which slowly morphed into quick meetings here, in this empty parking lot to an abandoned mall.

“Thanks for not wearing that perfume this time, doll. Almost got caught last time because I smelled like you.” He tries to lighten the mood as he shakes your thigh gently. It was the perfume he used to love when you’d wear it, the one you had on that night the first glance he took of you started this entire affair.

It became harder and harder to not hide your scent on him when he’d come over to your parents house as if he wasn’t just with you. Your dad would ask why he smelled of your perfume, Joel turning to you so you have to lie and say you greeted him outside before letting him in. Couldn’t leave a trace of you in his little world no matter how badly you wanted to. To desperately leave a subtle token of you on him, that he was yours, that this older man wanted something to do with you.

Joel wastes no time getting your navy blue hoodie off your torso and his lips on your neck, telling you once more that he missed you all day. The same words he spoke before suddenly didn’t make your heart flutter after the hundredth time hearing them. The smile doesn’t form as wide as it once did when he calls you ‘baby’. Funny how that works, finally getting what you wanted to hear him say and it wasn’t holding its weight anymore like in the beginning. They were just words you were taking for what they were; sweet nothings. You two developed a look to share while with others, a little nod of your head towards outside when you needed to speak in private and say what you couldn’t in front of anyone else or just needed to be close to one another. Those moments kept you wanting more from him, every single time.

Behind closed doors seemed like the only time you were everything to Joel, it was the sliver of time you got validation that he even liked you. He grew paranoid and tended to be cold when he was around your parents, no eye contact, hardly any conversation shared with you. When you were alone in the backseat with the sweat drying on your back as you laid against his chest, you were the one he wanted to be with…until it was time to come back to reality and get dressed like nothing happened.

“You don’t even look at me anymore when my parents are around, you’re acting too suspicious, Joel.” You mutter, dragging your thumb across his shoulder as you stared into the fabric of the seat behind him.

Time and time again you so desperately wanted to go public with Joel but every time you mentioned it he got upset, telling you that would be the dumbest thing to do. According to him, it was best to keep meeting in the back of his truck for a half hour and being dropped off with one less piece of you each time. You no longer felt like his baby anymore no matter how many times he called you that. Not a single thing he mutters to you while he’s on top of you in the truck replays later as you try to sleep like the early days. It was becoming more and more diluted with each quick goodbye kiss.

Joel pulls away and sits up straight, moving his hand to your thigh and giving a squeeze.

“Don’t do this right now, kid. C’mon, you know how I feel about ya.” His head hangs for just a moment as if you scolded him. Pulling his head up to look at you in the eye, Joel cups your face softly before speaking again.

“I’d lose so much if I told everyone about us, you know that right? You’re dad would probably beat my ass and never talk to me again, I don’t think any of our friends would honestly. I’d lose so much if everyone knew, not just you.” He sighs tiredly and lets go of your face and sits straight up in his chair before putting a hand over his mouth and the other on the steering wheel as he looks out the window to the empty lot, rain clouds scattered above and turning everything gray.

Was that all he was worried about, losing your dad as his friend and the other so called friends he had? Really?

You wait for what feels like forever before you scoff and sit back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest, feeling like nothing but a godforsaken mess for putting yourself in this situation.

“I thought you liked this..” He waves his hand back and forth between you two without turning back to look at you. “...This works, this is easy and it’s safe. Why do you wanna ruin somethin’ like that, baby?” Joel chews on his cheek waiting for your response, hoping somewhere in his words that it clicked in your mind to keep this between you two.

“I did like this, Joel. I liked being your little secret in the beginning. Learning our little unspoken language and how to find you during parties when you wanted to see me, staying out all those nights with you and we’d talk about everything and you’d drop me off in the morning before my dad woke up to see me sneaking in. I did…like being your secret. We started doing things that couples do, real couples. Why is it so wrong of me to want tha-?” You ask firmly, feeling your heart beating in your throat when he cuts you off with his booming voice.

“Because we can’t! We just can’t! I’m sorry, kid. You know we can’t do more than this. I’m sorry. You’re a beautiful and talented human being, you can g-” Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Joel, don't even give me that shit. I don’t want to hear that.” You turn in your seat to fully look at him, eyes not leaving his face for a second.

“Do you understand how much I would lose if we went public with this? I’m willing to throw all of that away to be with you. That is how much you mean to me. You mean more to me than my dad potentially not speaking to me ever again, possibly being kicked out, shunned, all of it. I don’t want anyone else but you, okay?” You had found your voice halfway between your counter argument, and damn did it feel good.

“Kid…we just can’t. I’m sorry. We can still be friends and I’ll always be around if you need me. I just, I think I put you in too deep with this.” His eyes flick between himself and you. The only noise audible was the rain pattering down on the windshield, thunder booming softly after a few seconds.

The tears sting your eyes and cascade down your warm cheek.

“Baby..” Joel coos and tries to wipe your tear away but you turn away before he can get close.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby.” He sighs with obvious frustration at your words and tucks his hand back next to his side. The hurt mixes with rage and the tears keep rolling down your face, Joel sits there unsure of what to say.

“Look at me, Joel. Look at this idiotic fool you’ve made me. Sitting here begging someone to be with me and love me so loudly, all the while it’s not reciprocated. You don’t want to show everyone how much you want to be with me, you just want to keep me a secret. Take me home, I’m done.”

You grab your sweater off the backseat and put it back on before buckling up once more.

“Kid, I’m-“

“Don’t call me that! Take me home, or I’ll walk.” You shout, the crack in your voice making your tears flow faster. Joel looks away and turns the truck on, driving back to your street in complete silence. He barely turns the corner at the end of your block and you get out without another word spoken to him. It was the one and only time he watched you get inside the house.