#I’ve been basically gaslighted into posting this

[dino-i]

Basic Concept Art of Comunidades Autónomas de España bc I felt like it

I def want to redo some outfits :(

#aph Cataluña #aph Galicia #aph País Vasco #aph Valencia #aph Madrid #aph Andalucía #I’ve been basically gaslighted into posting this #oc’s

[muniimyg]

NAKED // KNJ

note to self: take baths alone from now on

+

in which nam joon takes any and every opportunity to see you naked

pairing: boyfriend nam joon + oc 

au/genre:

(new) established relationship

non-idol au

fluff, crack, and smut

warnings:

explicit langauge and behaviour ...

cockwarming & riding,, some titty grabbing & basic ass position changes

THEY SAY ILY FOR THE FIRST TIME :D

note: originally posted on @/meowachi ,, revised !!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns

The water is colder than you expected. 

Your body reacts with goosebumps to which you let out a shiver. Maybe you took too much time getting everything ready that you missed this bath water’s prime temperature… Guess you didn’t girl-math this right. 

Oh well. 

There’s always next time, right?

Thankfully, his bare body holding yours makes it easier to adjust. He nuzzles his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, not missing the chance to hold your breasts for a moment. You scold him as if it’s second nature and he leaves a trail of kisses up and down your neck as an apology. 

Then, you take this moment in. Honestly, setting up music was a good idea. Along with the scented candles, the bubbles in your bath, the bath lavender bath bomb, and the bath salts—all such amazing details. Everything would’ve been perfect if only Nam Joon wasn’t complaining every five seconds. 

“I hate baths.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“The bath salts went up my ass—”

Finally, you shush him.

“Please,” he cries, “can we fuck?”

Rolling your eyes, you raise your hand and flick him with your fingers. He purses his lips and shuts his eyes in response. Nam Joon sighs, feeling defeated for the nth time tonight. Prior to this bath, he had suggested shower sex. To which, you argued you’d be too afraid to try since you’re as clumsy as they come… And he himself… Well, it was nice of him to ask.

It’s not like you didn’t want to have sex tonight… No, of course, you do. Your handsome and beefy boyfriend was naked, holding you.. Who wouldn’t be turned on? You just feel like being annoying. You want to push him as far as you can. You want to see how good he stays. How well self-disciplined he is. 

So, you sink into his body again, taking another deep breath in. 

Let’s try this again.

Relax.

You want to relax. 

That’s all you want to do.

It doesn’t last. A few giggles escape your lips as he begins to place small kisses on your shoulder all the way to the sides of your face. 

“Nam Joon…” you attempt to sound annoyed.

In his low voice, he hums; “Yes, my love?”

“You’re not making me feel relaxed!” Suddenly, you squirm as he bites your shoulder playfully. “I want to—stop that! I just want to relax, Joonie! You said you wanted to join me. You insisted.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he murmurs, only half meaning his apology. No, he wasn’t sorry. He was a man, after all. What idiot would turn down being naked in a tub of water with you? Fucking losers, that’s who. 

He squishes your body closer to him. “So... is this what you do?” 

You nod.

“Is this all that you do? This is so boring. You don’t even have those ducks to play with or like a toy boat that moves—”

“Nam Joon,” you warn, groaning at how talkative he’s becoming. “You can leave. I wouldn’t mind watching you ass walk away right now.” 

He laughs in response, getting the hint. You want to relax. He wants to be with you. This was the middle ground.

“Sorry,” he means it this time. “I’m just bored.. Like, I pictured this to be more… Sexy? Aren’t you supposed to seduce me?” Nam Joon wiggles his eyebrows at you. To that, you offer him and confused look.

“Who knows? Maybe I’ve been seducing you this entire time..” you gaslight.

He lowers his gaze. “You’ve been ignoring me since the minute we settled in the tub.”

“Aren’t you turned on?”

“No.”

You smile at him warmly, yet your tone is cold. “My love, if that’s the case… Then why do I feel your dick poking in between my legs right now?” 

He gulps.

“It’s hard.”

“I thought you said it’s boring.”

Nam Joon whines, “___, my dick is hard. I’m bored. Please sit on it.”

You gasp. 

Although, you can’t say you aren’t surprised. You’ve been together for less than a year yet he has never missed a chance to suggest such acts. Most days, you’d give in and it would be a good time. But today… You figure it would be much more fun to be a tease. This mood is sponsored by your incoming period. Regardless if it’s PMS or all your stress from work; it didn’t really matter. You just knew you weren't in the mood for super wet, slippery, hot sex in cold bath water. Imagine all the water that would be splashed on the floor! You’d be the one left to clean all of it up. Nam Joon would probably slip and hurt himself if you ordered him to do the cleaning duties.

“Okay,” you tease. “I’ll sit on your dick.”

He cheers. 

“But I won’t move.”

“W-what?” Nam Joon blinks. 

You shrug, pushing yourself up on his lap. When you find his length, you quickly guide it inside of you. No warning, not even a little rub in between. Nam Joon gulps the second he feels his cock inside of you. Unlike the water, you’re so warm. He hisses, feeling his dick begin to throb inside your tight walls. 

“M-mean,” he hisses. “You’re so mean.”

Ignoring him, you sink yourself even deeper. Now, he’s fully inside you and you’re completely sitting on him. You feel his tip and how far he is inside you.. It makes your body feel tingles and you honestly contemplate if you should just give in.

He feels so good. 

… And you hate to admit it but you overestimated yourself.

You’re having a hard time too. 

Yet, you stick it through. You have to! Rare are the moments you get where Nam Joon loses complete control.

“You asked me to sit on your dick. Sure, I’ll sit on your dick… But I’m not moving. I’m not going reverse cowgirl style. I’m not going doggy. I’m not fucking you.”

“So you’re just going to cockwarm me?” he asks, feeling betrayed. “But you love riding me!”

You glare at him. “No, I don’t. It’s tiring. It’s boring.” 

Nam Joon’s eyebrows furrow together. He tries his best to focus on your words and not how perfect you are inside of him. He’s stressed as fuck but he needs to prove to you that he can get through this… He has a feeling that winning you over will get him the reward he’s been after. 

“Then why do you do it?” 

This is news to him too. You always looked like you enjoyed riding him. Honestly, you probably ride him more than you two do in any other position. Also, why would he question it? You never really complained until now. It’s one of the things he liked so much about you.. It’s like, you just knew him. 

“You love it and I love you—”

Your eyes widen.

Did you really just say that? All this time, you were worried about slipping… Who knew it wasn’t about your body but rather your words? 

You two haven’t said it to each other yet. God, this is so fucking embarrassing. In this position too? In a fucking cold ass bath? It should’ve been more romantic! Plus, he should’ve said it first! You had it all planned out.. You were going to get it out of him before you could say it first. 

As you open your mouth to deny, take back, or spit out an excuse, his words make your world stop. 

“I love you too.”

Your breath hitches. “W-what?”

“Yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.. For the past like… Six months but I couldn’t find the right moment. I figured one day, you’d just get it out of me yourself.” Nam Joon looks awfully shy to you right now. It makes your heart flutter. 

“I thought the same,” you confess. “I wanted you to say it first.”

“Okay,” Nam Joon chuckles, “Then I said it first.”

Your heart begins to pound louder and faster. God, was he always this good with words? In all honesty, Nam Joon has no problem being the first to yield or confess.. He just needed time. Right now, he knew it well. You’re the right person at the right time. He’s so grateful.

“I wanted it to be more romantic.”

Instantly, he dips his head and kisses you slowly. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. “A slow kiss. Romantic, right? Better?”

You shake your head. 

“You have to hold my hand when you say it,” you whine. “It only makes sense that way.”

“Then, you have to look at me,” he negotiates. “You can’t be looking the other way when I say it.”

“Fine.”

You shift, pulling his dick out for a second. You adjust yourself, opening your legs and facing him. Now, your breasts were completely in front of him. He takes slow deep breaths as you put him inside you again. You wrap your arms around his neck and tilt your head. 

God, you’re so sexy.

With or without clothes, Nam Joon thinks you’re the sexiest human to ever exist. It wasn’t because your body was perfect; it was all because of the way you carried your confidence. It was that exact something he sensed and fell into an intense trance over. Moments like these play over and over in his head when he’s away from you. Moments where he feels so close to you. Physically, this was it. There is nothing more he could ask for. 

You: naked and on top of him. 

But more than that, what makes moments like these so special is the fact that he feels like he knows your soul. Bare, imperfect and so loving. It was sexy to have someone like you. It was something he had never experienced before with past loves. This was a first for him. A first real, sexy, and beautiful love. It was more than your body—it always has been. Regardless, who is he to not try? At the end of the day, he has needs. 

“Say it.” 

He laughs as he intertwines your fingers together. He raises them above the water to show you. Bringing your hands to his lips, he looks up at you and kisses your knuckles. 

“I love you, ___.”

You pout. 

He kisses your wrist and then pulls you closer to him. He kisses your breast, your collarbone, your shoulder, your cheeks, and the corner of your lip. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I’m sorry it took a cold bath to get it out of me.”

“Should’ve taken a bath together sooner.”

He laughs into your kiss. “Too bad the bath salts aren’t making me feel too sexy right now,” he confesses his uncomfortability. This is his last attempt. “Unless…”

“Spit it out,” you say, unamused.

“It’s just—”

“We’re not fucking in this bath of cold water, Joon. Give it up!” you laugh as you cup his cheeks together. You squish his lips with your thumb and index, making kissy faces at him. “No more fucking around.”

His suggestive eyes suddenly soften. “Fucking? ___, I wanted to make love… Since, you know.. I love you.”

Three times.

He said, “I love you,” three times now.

And perhaps, you’re not built for this hard-to-get lifestyle when the love of your life says such dreamy things. Of course, you’d give in. As they all say; the third time’s a charm. 

You burst into laughter, unable to hold yourself back. Desperately, you kiss him for what feels like forever, and as much as you resist; you end up riding him. 

The second you move yourself up and down, Nam Joon’s eyes widen and he smiles into the kiss. He can’t believe he won you over. 

“Fucking finally… Or should I say… Finally fucking?” Nam Joon chides, liking his word play more than he should.

Nerd alert.

You grunt, “s-shut up.” 

As you two continue to make out, you begin to move your hips as you slowly but surely begin to bounce on his hard cock. It feels so good to finally do this. As you move at a faster pace, the water begins to splash and for a second, you turn your head to make sure it isn’t going to flood the floor. But Nam Joon places his hand on your chin and the top of your neck, guiding you to look at him. 

“Don’t look away,” he hisses. “It’s just water. Focus on me.”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheeks. 

For stability, you place your hands on his chest. You feel his heart and how fast it’s racing. His skin has little goosebumps due to the cold water, but you can also see sweat from his forehead lightly layer on top of his perfect skin. His eyebrows are knitted together, as he gathers all his mental strength not to cum yet. At one point, you see his lips make an ‘o’. Why was he trying so hard to last? 

“Just cum,” you assure him. “It’s fine.”

He shakes his head, refusing to give in this early. “It’s your fucking boobs,” Nam Joon blames. “Mmhff—s-shit. What the hell. Fuck it.” 

Without warning, he places his hands on your waist and lifts you up. Nam Joon gently, yet firmly, turns you over. Your chin rests just over the rim of the tub, along with your arms. Your back is arched as he backs your ass up to his dick. He takes his fingers and plays with your clit for a bit. You moan, unable to fathom just how fucking sexy this all is. You feel yourself coming close. Before you know it, he sticks himself back in and begins to pump. Nam Joon pumps himself at a steady pace. At first, they were short and fast strokes that made the water spill over and you moan louder than usual. As you reach your peak and so does he; his strokes transition to long and deep ones. 

After a few more pumps, he lets himself go and cups your breasts with his hands. You don’t feel his cum inside of you as your walls still tingle, but you know it’s inside. Regardless of the water, you just know he creamed you messy as usual. 

As you two catch your breath, he kisses your neck once again. 

“For round two…” Nam Joon teases, “I’m thinking shower sex. Thoughts?”

“Haha,” you play along. “No.”

Nam Joon pouts, giving you puppy eyes. “... But I love you.” 

You can’t help but melt.

Oh, you’re so fucked.

You know for a fact he’ll be using this line for a while… And it’ll work. He’ll get you every time. But it’s okay! You love him too. You want him too. You need him too.

Besides, you’ll be charging him the water bill.

#knj fic #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagine #bts one shot #bts boyfriend au #nam joon boyfriend #bts rm #bts rm smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x oc #namjoon fic #namjoon scenario #bts scenario #bts fluff #namjoon fluff

[thequeeranachronism]

I hate hate hate how cold and sharp I’ve become after October 7th seeing people I liked and respected posting malicious disinformation after disinformation saying that they can’t possibly be antisemitic while basically spouting the protocols of the elders of Zion.

Seeing how little they actually care about misinformation because they refuse to fact check what they post or if they do fact check and see it’s wrong refuse to believe that and make up conspiracies.

The fucking call outs and harassment campaigns of any Jew who won’t parrot the right lines. Labeling Jews who aren’t Zionists as sneaky crypto-Zionists for talking about leftist antisemitism. Refusing to acknowledge leftist Jews who are Zionists and working towards peace and Palestinian liberation because they don’t fit with goyim’s definition of Zionism.

That this movement has manipulated Jews into hating other Jews. That leftists refuse to see the violence brewing towards Jews. That they can talk to neo Nazis without realizing it for hours and then going oops how silly was I not realizing what they were right away?

That there have already been attacks against Jews by leftists! That we’re constantly being gaslit about how noooo there isn’t any antisemitism in leftist movements and if there is you’re actually wrong and it isn’t antisemitism.

And it’s going to get more violent towards Jews unless leftists actually start taking antisemitism in their movement more seriously. But it doesn’t matter that Jews are being targeted because of what’s going on in Gaza so how dare we be worried. How dare we be afraid.

I’m done I’m so tired and I’m afraid for my family my tribe. Im done arguing with goyim who want to flat out call me a genocide supporter because I know my heart I know I don’t support it and you can’t gaslight me into believe that I do.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #Israel

[legiblyloathed]

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 3)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

TW: brief gaslighting in this chapter

A/N: And now, back by unpopular demand, me! It took me a bit longer than usual to brain out this chapter, mainly because I’ve been replaying Breath of the Wild to prepare for Tears of the Kingdom. Fun fact, for one innocuous paragraph in this chapter, I had to google very basic knowledge just to get by. Extra credit if you can guess which one it was. /j And now, without further ado, I present: chapter 3.

Tag list: @tikosan @itsyellow @twerkingnutella18 @azoart @elegantkidfansoul @cutsieskull @delvira-only-baby @anaki-kuroshi @jellyfish-fish

Prev

The first thought in my mind when I wake up in a heap on the floor of my foyer is something along the lines of “My bones feel like rusty springs.” Who would have thought falling asleep against a door after a long, stressful day would cause every bone in your body to creak in protest with every bend and stretch? Not even a minute of consciousness and it’s apparent that leaving the house is gonna be a pain in more ways than one today.

The second thought is “Whoever just knocked on my door is dead to me.” Which, I will admit, is a bit harsh, but the headache that rears up from the sound compounded by the burn of every joint in my body would make anyone just a tad grouchy.

Against my body’s wishes, I force myself up off the ground, the sound of joints popping ringing in my ears. Some of the pain subsides with the release of pressure, but it’s clear that a good long soak in a hot bath will be necessary later. I allow myself a good, long stretch to wring out any remaining bubbles before relaxing with a heaving breath and opening the door.

The large stranger is smiling with an air of patience, as if he already knew of my predicament. He’s dressed rather simply: a button up shirt, a multicolored tie, and plain slacks. The emblem on his hat and bag signifies that he’s the mailman, which in hindsight should have been obvious considering the two letters clutched in his hands.

“Well, hey there, neighbor!” His voice holds the heavy twang of a southern accent that’s imbedded itself deep into his soul. “Don’t reckon we’ve met yet, have we?” His empty hand extends itself towards me as he proclaims, “Name’s Eddie.”

You’d think I’d be more accustomed to the sheer friendliness of the people around here, and yet I still have to take a moment to register the greeting and introduce myself. After a firm handshake, he offers me the mail in his other hand. “Got a couple letters for ya. You sure made friends fast!”

I let out a chuckle as I take the envelopes. “Guess I did, huh?” I respond as I take a quick glance at the two letters. One is a bright shade of pink, the other a cool blue. I look back up at the friendly man. “I’m kind of embarrassed to admit I didn’t know there was a post office here,” I say sheepishly.

To my relief, Eddie laughs. “Guess we are a pretty small neighborhood, but every town needs a mailman.” He pats his mailbag for emphasis, and I hear the light crinkling of paper rustling around inside. “Letters ain’t gonna deliver themselves, you know.” He spares a glance at his watch to check the time. “Speaking of, I still got a few more stops on the route, so I’d best be leaving.”

“Oh, alright!” I say with a smile. “Wouldn’t want to keep you. Have a nice day!”

“I will, you have a nice day, too, neighbor!” With a grin and a wave, Eddie sets off while whistling a tune. I watch him walk away for a moment before ducking back into my house and shutting the door. I debate reading the letters right there in the foyer, but my decision to skip dinner the night prior seems to have upset my weary body, which lets out a growl of hunger. The sudden realization of just how starving I was propelled me into my kitchen, where I haphazardly tossed the letters onto the table. Breakfast first, then social life.

As I start to prepare a simple meal, I happen to catch of whiff of myself.

…a bath. Breakfast, a bath, then social life.

—————————

It’s a little past midday when I finally wander back into my dining room, the worst of the muscle pain having dissolved in hot, soapy water. The feeling left me sleepy, and I only came back to grab a quick snack from the fridge before taking a nap. However, the garish colors of the envelopes lying askew on the table are a reminder that I forgot to get around to reading them.

With a vague feeling of guilt for having functionally ignored my neighbors, I grab the envelope on top first, which happens to be the pink one. A scan of the address reveals the sender to be none other than Julie. I huff out a laugh. I should’ve guessed. After a trip to the junk drawer to locate my letter opener, I unfold the paper (Why does it smell like flowers? Does she put perfume on her parchment?) and lean against the table as I read.

Dear Neighbor,

Hope you’ve been feeling better! You seemed a little anxious at the picnic and I’ve been rather worried. I talked to Frank and he said you just weren’t adjusted to the neighborhood yet. So, I had an idea! I’d like you to come over to my house today to play with me and Frank! We still have plenty of treats leftover and a ton of games we didn’t get to play. I think we’ll all be the best of friends!

Lots of Love,

Julie Joyful <3

The whole paper is covered in doodles of hearts and smiley faces and it brings a smile to my face. I smooth the letter out as best I can. When the wrinkles are all gone, I grab a few magnets and hang it up on my fridge. My first letter! I really do make friends fast. As I beam at the page, picking up the other letter, a sense of calm washes over me. A fun day with two of my lovely neighbors. Just what I need to take my mind off-

I don’t move for a second. My eyes stay glued down to the deep blue envelope held in my hands. I know it’s a bit silly to be so scared of a simple name neatly printed on a piece of paper, but that acknowledgment does little to comfort me. All I can do is stare at the letter.

The letter from Wally.

I breathe in. I breathe out. In. Out. In. Out. I let my hand drift back down, setting the envelope and whatever it might hold within back onto the table. It almost feels dangerous to let my eyes linger on it. I walk away, leaving the kitchen without the snacks I once intended to grab.

I’m not hungry anymore.

—————————

Julie’s house is every bit as bright and cheery as the woman who lives there. The colors border on overwhelming, both the exterior and interior being so vibrant you could make out all the furniture in the dead of night. The smell of grass, flowers, and a hint of sugar waft through the air. It’s the kind of place you can enter and know deep down you’re gonna be safe. But the single most stunning feature of her home has to be the flower garden.

I enter under a beautiful picket fence arch which has long been overtaken by interwoven pink roses. Those same roses line the garden, weaving around each other and the white stakes in the ground. Bushes of multicolored hydrangeas line the back of the house, and stepping stones made of pebbles and small glass stones forge paths through the flowerbeds. In the middle of it all is a clearing in which a yellow blanket lies covered with tea cakes and sandwiches.

I’m so wrapped up in the scenery that I bump into Frank as he carries a small tea set to the blanket. The two of us both jump in surprise, and the cups wobble on the tray for a moment before they level it out to keep them balanced. I put a hand on my chest to calm myself. “I’m so sorry!” I exclaim. “I got distracted, are you alright?”

Frank huffs a bit as he continues to make his way toward the blanket. “I’m fine, neighbor. No harm, no foul.” They lower the set to the ground, careful to keep it steady. Once he seems sure of its integrity, he looks up at me, a hint of exasperation on his face. “Just, please pay a bit more attention to where you’re going.”

With a wave of anxiety, my hands move to tuck near to my chest and tug at each other, eyes averted to a patch of daffodils. “Yeah, I’ll try. It’s just…” My sentence trails off as I admire the intricacies of the garden around us. I manage to turn back to him. “This place is incredible, isn’t it?”

Frank stands up and takes a look around too, an air of peace overtaking his grumpy exterior for a moment. “It really is. Julie works hard to keep it like this, and it really pays off.” I murmur an agreement, and we both take in our surroundings in silence for a minute or two.

The sound of the back door swinging open appears in my periphery, and a familiar, chipper voice follows it shortly. “Oh, you’re early!” Julie steps out and joins us, the small plate of warm sugar cookies in her grasp sending steam into the air. “I didn’t think you’d show up for another half hour. I’m so happy to see you!” She moves the plate to her left hand, wrapping her right arm around me in a half hug. I’m ushered back towards the blanket, and the three of us all settle down in the middle of the garden. I don’t waste a moment before picking up a sandwich and taking a bite.

We don’t chat much while we eat, though Frank does have to remind Julie not to talk with her mouth full a time or two. She seems eager for us to finish eating so we can get to the games, the buzzing energy around her so infectious that I find myself rushing to finish my lunch so I can find out what she has planned. She’s done within minutes, and it doesn’t take long before I’m also licking the errant sugar sprinkles from my fingers. We chatter about everything and nothing as Frank works their way through their meal, seeming immune to Julie’s impatience.

After a good long while, Frank finally wipes his mouth and begins to pile up our dirty dishes onto the tea tray. It doesn’t even take a second for Julie to already be on her feet, bouncing in excitement. “Are we ready? Can we play now? What should we do first?”

“First, we should clean up.” Frank seems to be struggling to balance everything as he stands up, and I hurry to my feet to take the tray from him. They murmur out a brief thank you as they push themself off the blanket. “It’s not a good idea to start running around with glass on the ground. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Once he regains his bearings, he kneels down to pick up the remaining few plates and a few scattered pieces of trash. “We should probably take the blanket in, too, so we don’t trip over it.”

Taking the cue, Julie bends down to pull the yellow blanket from the grass, folding it into a messy pile in her arms. “Good idea, Frank! Come on!” Not seeming concerned with waiting for Frank and me, she disappears in a flash of pink into her house. The two of us glance at each other, chuckling as we follow behind, the clinking of china marking our footsteps.

The dishes have only just touched the kitchen counter when Julie darts back into the room. She notices my looking towards the sink and rushes to say “Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean all of them later. Let’s just go!” I match her smile as I follow her back outside with Frank tailing behind.

The next couple of hours seem to soar by, the boundless energy given off by the pastel woman so contagious that I don’t even realize how exhausted I am until I stumble and fall during a game of shadow tag and find that I don’t feel like getting up. I instead stay flopped over panting in the grass, arms outstretched, staring at the sky as the shades of blue begin to fade to soft arrays of green, orange, and pink. A grey face pops into my view, peering at me from the side with their eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you alright? That was a pretty rough fall.” Still trying to catch my breath, I offer a thumbs up in lieu of a verbal response. Frank seems satisfied with that, and lowers himself to the ground far more gently than I had.

He’s at once nearly bowled over by Julie, who if I didn’t know better almost seems a little winded herself. With residual giggles, she says, “Wow, I haven’t gotten to play for so long in ages! I knew we were gonna get along great!”

It’s a tad awkward being the only person fully lying on the ground. I funnel all my self discipline into propping myself up, opting to lean back on my hands to continue taking in the scenery above my head. My eyes sweep over it all, noting telltale specks of stars as the sun slips away to reveal them from behind the blue. I don’t think I’ve ever such a beautiful view of the sky before.

“I agree, it’s incredible.” Frank’s voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin. It takes a second to register that I must’ve let that last sentence stray from my mind to my tongue. I keep my focus upwards, hoping no one noticed my embarrassment. It appears to have worked as he continues, “It almost looks like a painting.”

A painting. A simple, commonplace thing that shouldn’t churn my stomach, but I still feel my heart drop at the words. In my periphery, Julie leans in with a giddy look on her face. “Speaking of, you and Wally seemed to have fun yesterday. Why, you two were out by the woods so long, Poppy almost sent out a search party!” She laughs, and I deem myself lucky that she didn’t notice the blood drain away from my head.

A pale imitation of a laugh comes out with the words, “Yeah, I guess we did…” The silence in the air grows thick, for me if not for the others. The rational and empathetic sides of my brain are waging war once more, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Does… does he ever make you guys feel…” I trail off, struggling to find the words with two sets of eyes now focused on me. “…nervous?”

Frank’s head tilts, and he appears puzzled. “What do you mean? Why would he?”

My head begins to sink into my neck, like a turtle hiding from danger. “It’s just, I always feel like he’s staring at me, and some of the things he says while he does it come across a bit… off. Y’know?”

“Oh, that’s just how Wally is!” Julie bats at the air as if to dismiss the notion. “You’re worrying over nothing.”

As I begin to stutter out my disagreement, Frank asserts, “She’s right. He doesn’t mean any harm. You just haven’t gotten used to him yet.”

“I mean, I guess.” I push myself off my hands, the need to articulate my emotions taking over in my flustered state. “But, I got used to you guys and Poppy and Eddie within minutes. Wally just makes me feel uncomfortable.” The words are tumbling out now, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.

When I force my eyes upward, Julie’s are already meeting them, and my gut wrenches at the uncharacteristic dour edge to her appearance. “It’s rude to talk about people like that behind their back, neighbor. He’s been nothing but lovely to you since you got here, and it’s not nice for you to treat him like some kind of threat.” A glance at Frank reveals a similar sentiment in his appraisal of me, and shame builds up within my heart. Against my will, tears begin to burn my eyes and mist my vision.

Unable to take it any longer, I push myself up. “I think I should go.” Neither of them tries to stop me. I pass through the magnificent greenery, knowing that the memory of it is going to have a permanent black mark tied to it. My hand settles on the garden gate, and I hesitate for a brief moment before deciding on “Thank you for the lunch, and for the games.” A mutter akin to that of ‘you’re welcome’ is heard behind me, and with that, I set off for my home.

The sky continues its transition to the night, and I solemnly await for the colors to fade so I can no longer see the brushstrokes in the heavens.

#yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader #yandere welcome home #yandere x reader #yandere #male yandere #tw yandere #x reader #horror #ain’t he darling

[beskarandblasters]

You Belong With Me

Best Friend!Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cassian Andor Masterlist

Author’s note: Love me a Taylor Swift title. The reader basically takes the place of Bix in this. Your boyfriend is Timm just like her but you’re just best friends with Cassian up until this point. Takes place sometime before episode one.

Summary: You grew up on Ferrix and have been best friends with Cassian Andor since childhood. You run a salvage yard on Ferrix and work as a mechanic with your boyfriend, Timm. One day you catch Timm betraying you and Cassian proves to be the perfect shoulder to cry on.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, your boyfriend is an asshole, infidelity, confessing feelings, best friends to lovers, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart), praising, fingering, oral sex (F receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, no use of y/n

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It’s a typical day for you on Ferrix. Your boyfriend, Timm, is working the front counter and you’re in the shop deconstructing a speeder for parts. It’s been a constant flow of people today making him busy at the counter and you left to your own devices. 

Between the on and off blaring noises of the machines you’re operating you hear voices coming from the front, usually several at a time as they talk over each other, inquiring about prices. Eventually you hear only two voices talking, one you already know; Timm’s. But the other one is high pitched, shrill– a woman’s voice, one you don’t recognize. And she’s laughing. And the laughing doesn’t stop. Come on, he’s not that funny, you think to yourself. 

You slide out from under the speeder and take off your mask, determined to see what’s going on already. You hoist yourself off the ground and make a beeline for the front counter to find an interesting site to say the least. Timm is standing at the counter, resting his elbow on the countertop and supporting his head in his hand. Her body language matches his and their faces only inches apart from each other. The both of them completely enthralled in the conversation. 

“Am I interrupting something?” you ask, eyes scanning back and forth between them.

Timm’s face goes red at the sight of you, jumping back a couple feet in his shock. The woman stands up straight, returning her arms to her sides and averting her gaze to the floor. 

“Nope! She was just asking about a part for her droid,” Timm quickly says. 

“Gotcha… What part were you looking for?” you ask.

“Um, it’s actually not that important,” she says, still not looking at you. 

“Are you sure? I can take-”

“I said it’s not that important. Bye,” she finishes, turning swiftly on her heel and leaving. 

You’re completely baffled. She comes to your salvage yard to ask for a part but then gets rude with you when you ask for more details?? Not to mention her questionable behavior with Timm. 

“Who was that?” you say, stepping towards him. 

“Just a customer.”

“Seems like you know her.”

“She lives in my neighborhood.”

“Oh really? I’ve never seen her in your neighborhood when I’m around.”

“Babe, why are you getting like this? She’s just a customer. End of story,” he says, shutting down any further conversation on the topic. 

You roll your eyes and head back into the shop to finish scrapping the speeder. But the whole time your mind is preoccupied, worried about Timm and that woman. You’re not suspicious that he spoke to someone of the opposite sex, that’s not it at all. It’s the way they both acted once you caught them and how Timm tried to gaslight you after. 

You finish the work day and part ways without so much as a kiss goodbye; a deliberate choice by you. Now that you’re not working and you’re alone with your thoughts you face the harsh reality that he’s most likely cheating on you. 

You head to the cantina that night to meet up with your best friend, Cassian. You’ve been best friends ever since he was adopted and came to a Ferrix at a young age. Best friends is an understatement; you two have been inseparable. You’ve been there for each other’s milestones, heartbreaks and everything in between. You thought maybe something would happen between you two but it never did. Neither of you were single at the same time and you always respected the other’s relationship. You meet him at the bar and he greets you with a smile and your first round of drinks. 

“Thanks, Cass,” you say, sitting beside him as he slides your drink over to you. 

After just the two words you spoke and presumably the troubled look on your face, he knows something’s wrong. 

“What happened?” he asks, his face shifting into a worried expression. 

“It’s really nothing,” you say, looking down at your hands resting on the bar, “I’m probably overreacting.”

“Tell me.”

“I just… Timm was acting really strange with this girl at the salvage yard today. Like when I walked in on them talking they both looked incredibly guilty. And when I confronted him about it he brushed me off.”

“Do you think he’s cheating on you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have the full picture yet.”

“I’ll kill him if he is.”

“Ha, you’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!”

“I don’t even know for sure yet, Cass.”

“Well, I’m here for you.”

“I know, Cass. I’m lucky to call you a friend,” you say, just as he reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“You’ll always have me,” he says before taking a sip of your drink.

Your feelings of anxiety are temporarily quelled, but not for long. You finish your drink, only in the mood for one round before saying goodbye to Cassian and heading home. 

“Keep me updated,” he says, giving you a hug goodbye.

“I will,” you say, offering him a weak smile before leaving the cantina.

As you walk home a plan forms in your mind; to go over to his place, check on him and see if she’s there. But not tonight, it’ll be too obvious. You have to be patient and wait a few days, make Timm believe you’re not suspicious of his actions in the slightest if you’re going to catch him in the act.

-

Three days have passed since the strange interaction at the salvage yard. You’ve been doing your best to mask your emotions and pretend like everything’s fine. It’s hard to pretend you’re okay when you have a hunch like this; to kiss him and interact with him like nothing is going on. You’re hoping that you’re wrong; that you’ll go over to his house and everything will be normal; that’ll be honest for once. But only time will tell. 

Finally the work day comes to an end and you give him a kiss goodbye despite how badly you don’t want to and watch him walk home. You hang around at the yard, killing time before it’s time to go. When enough time has passed you leave the salvage yard and walk to his place. The anticipation brews in your stomach for what you’re about to find but so does the dread. Because deep down you think you’re going to find everything you don’t want to see; everything you don’t want to be true. You arrive at his door and give it a knock. Timm answers the door after a moment, hair tousled and glistening with sweat. He looks surprised and almost annoyed to see you.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, without a hello first.

“I just wanted to check on you. That’s all.”

“Okay, well I’m fine. Is there anything else you need?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay? What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” he says too quickly.

“Is something wrong? Let me come inside,” you say, pushing past him.

Despite his protests you go inside and head straight for the bedroom. 

You open the door to his room and your worst fears are confirmed. That girl from his salvage yard is in his bed; naked and with a horrified expression on her face. Your ears start ringing and everything sounds like it’s far away. Timm’s shouting your name followed by an incoherent mess of “I’m sorry” and “It isn’t what it looks like” but you’re ignoring him, turning on your heel and bolting as fast as you can. You leave his place and step out onto the street, unsure of where to even go right now. Your house? The salvage yard? The cantina? …Cassian’s place? You don’t know where but you need to get far away from Timm’s place now.

And so you run, not caring who you’re bumping into or caring about the scene you’re causing. You’re stopped in your tracks when you collide into someone full force. You get ready to mumble a lame apology and take off but you bumped into Cass of all people.

“What happened?” he asks, concern on his face and grabbing your shoulders.

You don’t know where to begin. You open your mouth to speak but instead tears start spilling down your face. He pulls you into him, holding you as if you’re going to slip away. He rubs your back as you cry against him, not prying any further as you let your feelings out. 

“It’s true, Cass. He’s cheating on me,” you whisper against his shoulder. 

He pulls back and places his hands on your shoulders again, his anger firing him up. 

“Where is he?! I meant it when I said I’ll kill him!”

“I know, Cass. I know. I just… I want to go home.”

“You’re right,” he says softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “Let’s get you home.”

He keeps a protective arm around you as he walks you home, swiftly weaving through small crowds of people in an effort to get you home faster. All of a sudden it starts to rain and the streets of Ferrix clear up. But by the time you get home both of you are pretty soaked. 

You get inside and make your way to your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your bed and staring off into space out of pure numbness. Cassian kneels on the floor in front of you, trying to get your attention but you’re too zoned out.

“Hey, talk to me,” he says, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze.

You shake your head as if to break yourself out of your trance and look him in the eye.

“I went over to his place and caught another girl in his bed.”

“Was it the same girl as before?”

“Yup,” you sigh. 

“I’m so sorry. You deserve so much better,” he says with the most sincere expression on his face. 

“Do I, though? There has to be something wrong with me that made him go and cheat.”

“Hey,” he says sternly, “He’s the one who screwed up. You did nothing wrong. He was lucky to have you.”

“You mean that?”

“Anyone would be lucky to have you. I’d be lucky to have you,” his eyes widening after he realizes what he said. 

“What do you… What do you mean by that, Cass?”

He gets up and sits before you on the bed, still keeping your hand in his. He looks nervous and he takes a deep breath as if he’s about to say something difficult. 

“I mean that… I’ve had feelings for you ever since we were kids… but I didn’t want to run our friendship. And I know this is the worst time to tell you that and I’m sorry. But it just came out and I-”

You cut him off by kissing him, feeling his wet skin from the rain and his facial hair rub against your face. He’s stiff as a board, almost as if he’s in shock. It isn’t until you pull away and look at him does his posture start to relax.

“Why did you do that?” he asks softly.

“Because I think I just realized that everything I need is right in front of me. And I’ve been denying myself of it for too long.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I do,” you say, squeezing his hand. 

With the confirmation he needed his lips crash into yours. His hands caress each side of your face as you move closer to him. The kiss grows more passionate and you find yourself inching up farther on the bed but careful not to break the kiss. He follows you, coaxing you to lay down. You lay back on the bed and let him hover over you, the kiss growing deeper and needier, like you can’t get enough of each other. He pulls away for a second and you look at each other for a moment. That’s when it hits you; you’re about to have sex with your best friend. The adrenaline from the moment courses through your veins as he tugs on the waistband of your pants. He looks back at you as if he’s asking if this is okay and you nod, the easiest yes of your life. With your approval he slides off your pants, followed by your underwear. He runs a hand over your inner thigh and you shiver at his touch, still not fully rationalizing what’s happening right now but also knowing it’s what you’ve needed. You spread your legs for him and he shifts to settle in between them, gazing down at your entrance. He brings two fingers to your cunt, swiping lightly at your entrance and collecting what wetness has already formed there. 

“How bad do you want me?” he asks, rubbing his thumb against his pointer and middle finger, feeling the physical evidence of how bad you want but asking anyway to hear it for himself.

“So bad, Cass,” you whine, aching for his fingers already. 

He brings his face by yours, a devious smirk on his face and asks, “For how long?”

“Shit, I don’t even know. Too long,” you whine, getting desperate.

“That’s not good enough. How long?” he repeats.

“Since you started dating that girl a few years ago, I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” he questions, brushing his fingers against your cunt again.

“Yes. Yes, I was jealous, Cass,” you whine at his ghost of a touch.

“Imagine how I felt, watching you waste your time with that asshole Timm when you could’ve had me…” he says, bringing his fingers to his mouth and moistening them before bringing them back to your cunt, “Taking such good care of you,” he finishes, sliding a finger inside you.

You gasp at his touch and his eyes scan your features for signs of how aroused you are; the way your mouth falls open, the rise and fall of your chest, your hands gripping sheets beside you as he works your walls. 

“You want more?” he teases.

“Please, Cass.”

“Good girl,” he praises, pushing another finger in. 

You arch your back in pleasure as he hits that perfect spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing small circles around it while his other fingers make a “come here” motion. Your cunt flutters around his fingers as you cum, soaking his hand with your release. He pulls his hand from you when you’re finished, looking down at the mess you made on his hand and deciding he needs to taste it. He lays down between your thighs and licks a long, slow stripe up your entrance, just to see how you taste. You shudder at the feeling of his warm tongue against you, licking you slowly. He wants more, lapping at the rest your release until he moves to your clit. He swirls his tongue around it before sucking on it completely, feeling you writhe against his face. Your hand moves to his hair, tugging on it lightly as he eats you. He loves the feeling he gets from pleasuring you and the physical reactions you show from it, almost growling even when you pull his hair. He sucks your clit until you cum again, this time your release soaking his face instead of his hand and he loves every second of it, taking in your scent and your taste as you ride out your high. He pulls away when you’re done and you waste no time sitting up and taking your shirt off. He does the same, tossing his clothes into a pile on the floor and returning to in between your legs. You glance down between your legs at his exposed cock and can’t believe you’re finally seeing it after all these years of imagining what it looks like; uncut, girthy, and so big it’s a little intimidating. He looks down at your naked form, trailing his hand along your waist and to your lips. 

“I wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, “You underneath me, looking like an angel.”

Your cheeks go hot at his praise and all of a sudden you’re feeling shy, turning your head to the side. He gathers some of your wetness on his hand and spreads it onto his cock, giving it a few strokes before aligning himself with your entrance. But before he enters you, he grabs your chin and turns your head towards him, forcing you to look at him.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he says softly.

You nod just as he enters you, shifting your nod into a gasp at the feeling of him stretching your walls. He lowers himself down by your face, supporting himself on his hands on either side of your head as he draws back his hips and slams them into you, showering you with promises.  

“I’m gonna treat you so well, baby. I’m gonna take such a good care of you,” he says, words coming out deliriously as he plows into you. 

All you can do is keep nodding at his promises, tears springing in the corners of your eyes as he drives his cock deeper and deeper into you.

“I’m gonna worship you, baby. You don’t know how much of an angel you are,” he says, slamming his hips into you on the last word to draw a deep moan from you. 

He bends down to kiss you as he picks up the pace, the head of his cock brushes your cervix now. You moan into his mouth before he moves to your neck, pressing sloppy, wet kisses on the soft skin as you grow hysterical, tears fully spilling down your cheeks now. Just earlier in the night you were crying over your shitty boyfriend cheating on you and now you’re crying from your best friend’s cock plowing into you. 

“Cass. Cass, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out. 

“Do it. Let me feel it, angel,” he whispers by your ear, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

With one last slam of his hips into you, you’re coming undone around him. Your core contracts and releases erratically and he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, making it last even longer. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum on my cock,” he says, moving to kiss your neck. 

Your cunt keeps convulsing his cock like a vice, drawing his own orgasm from him. With the tip of his cock nestled against your cervix he’s cums inside you, painting your insides with his release. He stays just like that for a moment, head by your neck, kissing you softly and his cock still buried inside you. Once he goes soft he pulls out and lays down next to you, pulling you into him. You lay on his chest the both of you rest just like that for a moment while he rubs your back. 

“I’m just so glad I have you finally,” he murmurs.

“Me, too, Cass,” you hum happily.

All of a sudden you hear frantic knocking on the door. You poke your head up and hear Timm calling your name.

“Took him long enough,” you scoff.

“You wanna get that?” he asks.

“Nah. He’ll leave eventually,” you sigh, resting back on his chest.

“Good. Now rest, sweetheart. We’ll go again in the morning.”

You giggle in response but you know he’s right. Gotta make up for all the years you spent apart somehow. 

End note: ✨it’s finally fucking here after like two months of me talking about it✨ 😭💀

Cassian tag list: @wannab-urs @readingfan @thesoftdumbass @twirl731 @hellomoonlightluna @septimaseverina @forlornghosts @vibrantbirdy @pedritosdarling @simpforbritgents @radcollectivesoul @gingaaaaa @dinsdjrn

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor smut #cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor #andor #andor fanfiction #starwarsficnetwork #star wars #star wars fanfiction #cassian andor x you

[starsandhughes]

intrusive sissy and trevor thought- there’s one occasion where sissy, trevor, jamie, and a few others are out one night. of course sissy is touchy(er) when she’s drunk, so she’s basically an extension of jamie and z. but someone (maybe a bartender) comes up later in the night, and they’re confused on who she’s with. sissy pulls out her theater skills from high school and is like “both” just to fuck with everyone. and now anytime they go in that bar, they pretend to be a throuple just to keep the bit going.

“why do i have to pretend you three are dating?” mason asked.

he was coming with you, trevor, and jamie to your favorite post game bar where the entire staff has been lead to believe that you three are dating.

“because steph, our favorite bartender, couldn’t tell who y/n was dating because she’s a clinging machine and when she asked, y/n said both of us,” trevor said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“and you went along with it?” mason continued to question this ordeal.

“she’s very convincing,” jamie said.

“she is. she tricked me into loving her,” trevor said.

“and now i’ve got you locked in,” you joked, wiggling your ring finger. “mwahahahahaha!”

trevor raced towards you and snatched you to his chest, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“i can’t wait to marry you so i can divorce you for that comment,” trevor joked.

“what comment?”

“about tricking me into loving you!”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. jamie?” you joked.

“not a clue. you’ve never done anything wrong,” jamie played along.

“stop collectively gaslighting me! tonight is about gaslighting others!”

“you’re the practice round, babe!” jamie laughed.

“enjoy!”

#penalty box series: blurbs #penalty box series #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #mason mctavish #trevor zegras x reader

[theyandereonmyoji]

General Yandere Silver the Hedgehog Headcanons

Well, I’ve been receiving quite a few requests for Silver, so I thought that, before responding any of those, I should post some of my general headcanons (Also sorry about the hiatus, but thankfully I should be free for a long while) TW: implied murder and kidnapping

This sweet, naive hedgehog would take a long time before he realized he felt anything…special towards you. He’s just happy to have friends he can talk to. After all, he can get pretty lonely back in his future, even with how much he wants to make friends and hang out with them, he can’t. However, after a long while, he starts asking himself tons of questions about his behavior. Like why do his eyes wander off to where you are when hanging out with a bunch of your mutual friends, or why does he get so nervous when you two are alone. Whether his feelings towards you are purely platonic or even romantic, he’ll eventually realize how truly intense his feelings are.

His attitude towards you wouldn't change much on a surface level, he’s still the eager, optimistic hedgehog that wears his heart on his sleeves and likes to be around you. Yet, those traits that would make him a lovable dork in most situations, is what ultimately causes him to be rather intense when you two are together. He’s basically like an overgrown puppy, lovable and ultimately doesn’t want to cause you any issues, yet he can be extremely overbearing and not allow you to have any personal space. It doesn’t matter how boring or mundane your activities are for the day, he’s always there, for better or for worse.

If one day you decide that he’s just too intense for you and ask him to please leave you alone for a while, he will give be noticeably sad even if he tries to hide it, but he will leave you alone…for a little while anyways, him lasting a day without you is a miracle, but eventually he’ll beg you for you two to hang out again, swearing that he will try to give you your space, but to please let him be around you again. And honestly you would need to be heartless to say no to the poor guy, he’s just trying his best, can you really stay mad at him for long? From then on, he respects your personal space a bit more, though he does still have his moments where that type of behavior can resurface.

Despite how sweet and caring he is towards you (and towards any of his friends really) He can be quite…serious for a lack of a better term. If he sees anything or anyone that he might consider a threat, well, mercy might not be in his vocabulary that day. Honestly it’s like a on/off switch, one moment he’s being the sweetest cinnamon roll to ever exist towards all of his friends, and even more towards you, the next he’s willing to commit murder for your sake. Trust me when I say you want to stop him before things get messy, if not for the sake of whatever poor fella crossed him that day, at least to have a healthy conscience at the end of that day. After all, Silver sees no reason to hide what he’s willing to do for you

The poor boy gets jealous easily and he’s terrible at hiding it. The thing he’s not terrible at is gaslighting himself though. After all, there’s no way he would ever harm someone innocent, they must be evil in some way, he just knows you’re not safe with them. Pray to whatever god you believe in (or to good luck if you’re not religious, whatever works) that he doesn’t find enough “evidence” to support his claim that your friend is a menace, because once he does, there’s no stopping him. He’s a stubborn one, and in his eyes, it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. He’s just keeping everyone you safe away from that bastard, but it’s ok now, they’ll be gone soon, so don’t worry about it, ok?

I hope you like gifts, because with Silver you’re going to get a lot of hand-made ones. He wishes nothing more than to make you smile, and he figured out that a good way to do so would be gifts. Baked good, some small crafts, he’ll try to make anything, and while they might not be of the best quality, it’s the intention that counts, and again, you would have to be absolutely heartless to tell him that you don’t like his gifts, especially with those puppy eyes of his. He’s just so happy when you acknowledge all of his hard work to make you happy, he just can’t get enough of your smile, it’s almost like oxygen to him, he just can’t get enough of it. He’s willing to do anything for you, quite literally. 

Silver probably has the least stable breaking point out of everyone, mostly cuz he’s so used to thinking about how everything can go wrong due to his ruined future, that basically anything happening to you is catastrophic in his eyes. You got a scratch? He panics, a fight with someone? Pray they get a quick death. Eventually as things get worse and worse (according to him anyways) he’ll decide that he’s had enough and not let you go anywhere without him, or more accurately, let you go anywhere at all. Reasoning with him is impossible, after all he’s as stubborn as can get, and as much as he loves you, he’s not taking no for an answer, after all it’s all for your sake, so shouldn’t you be happy?

The only possible way I can see you escaping from him is if you somehow gain his trust enough for him to let his guard down, slip up, and give you a chance to peace out…but good luck with that. It isn’t that he wouldn’t trust you, but he’s just incapable of being apart from you, so a moment when you’re alone are too few and far between, I doubt you would even have a proper plan to escape him. In the case you somehow do manage to do so, your freedom won’t last long, he’s really adept with that psychokinesis of his, so the moment he sees you it’s game over. He would try to justify to himself why would you ever want to run away, after all, it’s impossible for him to see what he did wrong, you probably were just anxious, but no need to worry, he will always be there for you

#yandere #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic the hedgehog x reader #yandere x reader #sonic the hedgehog #sth #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons #green tea #yandere silver the hedgehog #yandere silver the hedgehog x reader #yandere silver the hedgehog x y/n

[thewhitefluffyhat]

Ianthe’s Makeover Through a Femme!Harrow Lens

“This seems like a good week to post about how I relate to Harrow as a fellow androgynous-femme,” I say, taking cover behind an industrial strength blast shield. (Joking, joking.)

But in all seriousness, this post has been in my drafts for a while. I’d seen the makeover scene in HtN described as “confusing” when it comes to Harrow’s gender, and I honestly thought it was too on first read.

So I wanted to take a closer look!

Spoilers: I don’t think it’s as simple as Harrow being uncomfortable with wearing dresses in the abstract.

Rather, the main aspect that stood out to me as making Harrow curl up like a shivering wet cat is the loss of control and the sexual haze permeating the whole affair. And I really do want to underline the latter aspect, because even before Dios apate Minor enters the picture, Ianthe herself repeatedly frames what she’s doing in terms of making Harrow more sexually desirable. More fuckable, if you will:

"God, what's this? That's a bit risqué-" You grew desperate. "Let me pick." Harrow the Ninth, p264

"Not even one of the Emperor's fists and gestures could give Harrowhark Nonagesimus a sexy makeover. Sometimes I think you look like a twig's funeral. In the right light, though-" Harrow the Ninth, p264

"You look just good enough that I'm proud of my handiwork, but not so good that I'll be consumed with lust and ravish you over the nut bowl," she said. "I walked a fine line, and I walked it admirably." Harrow the Ninth, p266

But Ianthe also emphasizes: not too fuckable, Harrow shouldn’t misunderstand and become confident in her body, because Harrow is such a pitiful charity case that the only beauty she can ever hope to attain will be scraps distributed at Ianthe’s mercy. She’s… she’s literally doing the High School Mean Girl schtick of “I’ll help you look pretty as a favor, but don’t you dare challenge my place in the pretty pecking order.”

Which, to be honest, probably says a lot more more about Ianthe and Coronabeth and their issues than anything about Harrow! Like, tell me more, Ianthe, how do you feel about constantly being described as the lesser twin to your face? I’m sure that’s never hurt you and you’re not projecting here at all, haha.

But regardless of its effectiveness, to me this strategy reads as an attempt at a very femme-vs-femme power play. You want to talk about gatekeeping femme identity? Surprise surprise, so does Ms. Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss!

As a result, Harrow, being a delightfully contrarian and passive-aggressive little shit even in the depths of having her agency denied, protests this in whatever small ways she can still find:

As an act of meaningless rebellion, you applied the sacramental skull of the Priestess Crushed Beneath the New-Laid Rock, the least beautiful skull in the canon. Harrow the Ninth, p266

“Fuck you and fuck trying to win your rigged game I didn’t even want to play,” essentially.

But note that Harrow doesn't wear a masculine-coded skull to protest Ianthe’s dress. (Are there gendered skulls in the canon? Muir could easily have made one up here, or had Harrow wear a pattern normally used by her father, Crux, or Ortus.) It’s not being seen as feminine or femme that she’s objecting to. Instead, Harrow goes for the ugliest skull, the “I don’t want to be perceived as desirable from any perspective” option.

And this actually reads very true to my own experiences! I’m somewhere between an androgynous and a non-mainstream feminine presentation myself, and I’ve had basically this exact same fight over what to wear at a social event. Right down to finding subtle ways to make myself less attractive to subvert the other person's attempt to control my appearance. Better something ugly that I chose myself than something playing by the rules that femme = signing up to be judged on the fuckability scale.

(Not, to be clear, that there’s anything wrong with pursuing or enjoying sexual attractiveness! Just that being forced into it feels really awful.)

Now, the topic of what does and doesn’t count as femme is… fraught and basically impossible to definitively nail down. But presenting as femme and/or feminine as part of one’s queerness often involves being in dialogue with other forms of femininity, picking and choosing which aspects to keep and which to reject. I’ve seen lipstick lesbians talk about their over the top makeup as a way to mark themselves as different from the heterosexual “natural look” norm. I myself love the gothic lolita look, because I like the idea of being seen as “feminine” in a transgressive way, but also potentially in a way that strikes other people as less sexual. (Though the nuances of lolita fashion could be a whole other discussion…)

Harrow’s presentation preferences aren’t quite the same as mine (she does not enjoy being seen as smaller or more childish), but she seems to share the desire for her unusual femme aesthetic to implicitly deflect from sexual interest rather than attracting it. She’s using her religion as a socially acceptable shield against Ianthe’s advances. Because given Ianthe’s reactions to the subject, flirting with a nun seems to be at least a little as taboo in TLT as it does in our world:

You simply said, “I have always slept alone.” “You don’t say.” You heard the primness in your voice when you said, “I am betrothed to the Locked Tomb, Tridentarius. I slept on a cot in my cell.” “I always forget you were an honest-to-God nun...” Harrow the Ninth, p260

Ianthe is an asshole who ignores Do Not Touch signals, but I think Harrow’s desperate clinging to her nun robes is, in part, another assertion of this implicit boundary. So I read the makeover scene as Harrow having an allergic reaction to being sexualized and objectified against her will (and to the entire idea that correctly performing as femme requires one to aspire to such), rather than disliking being perceived as femme or even feminine in general.

.

A second layer to this scene is the slimy cultural aspect to what Ianthe does. If the paint and full-body coverings are the Ninth's version of proper female attire, then Ianthe is forcing Harrow to perform to a very Third ideal instead:

“Will you take off that grotesque skeleton corset?” “No.” “What about your face paint?” “No.” “I do not know why I ask these questions,” she said. Harrow the Ninth, p265

I'm always wary of assuming modern racial dynamics apply to TLT’s universe, but y'all... this scene is a white woman forcing a brown woman from a stigmatized, minority religion to perform a normalized Western standard of femininity. Up to a rebuffed attempt to remove her face/hair coverings. Regardless of how much this dynamic applies in-universe, the real life parallels are not exactly subtle! Harrow could be the most feminine femme to ever gender within her culture, and what Ianthe does would still be extremely gross and coercive.

It’s also another direct callback to GtN - Ianthe forcing Harrow into fashionable Third norms is an inversion of the scene of Harrow forcing Gideon into Ninth facepaint. The same way that Harrow’s demeaning “Griddle” gets a dark reprise in Ianthe’s “Harry” and several other echoes in HtN of Harrow having to endure similar treatment from Ianthe as she once abused Gideon.

Ianthe is insisting that in order for Harrow to meet the dinner party’s standards, she must compromise her own culture’s standards. That Harrow’s own ceremonial robes aren’t expensive or nice enough to pass in a formal setting. She can be a well-dressed femme, or she can be a Ninth nun, but not both. Again, I don’t see Harrow’s objections to this treatment as being in conflict with Harrow having a femme-leaning identity, so much as Harrow being made wretchedly helpless and humiliated by having her Ninth heritage erased to fit Ianthe’s Third tastes.

.

Still not convinced? Finally, let’s contrast Ianthe’s makeover with the scene of Harrow getting ready for Abigail and Magnus’s anniversary in GtN:

She put on her best and most senescent Ninth robes, and became a skinny black stick swallowed by night-coloured layers of Locked Tomb lace. She fiddled with long earrings of bone in front of the mirror and repainted her face twice. Gideon the Ninth, p168

In any case, both she and Harrowhark turned up, gorgeously gowned in their Locked Tomb vestments, painted like living skulls, looking like douchebags. Harrow clinked when she walked with the sheer multiplicity of bonely accoutrement. Gideon the Ninth, p169

Here, Harrow is dressing purely according to her own decisions, and she actually doubles down on the more stereotypically feminine lace and jewelry rather than aiming for something wholly androgynous. She also does her best to appear neat and presentable here despite being a scruffly gremlin most of the time. Perfectionist that she is, Harrow is still nervous about her ability to perform it, but she’s confident in the specific femme aesthetic that she’s aspiring toward.

(Side note: You know who else wears an excessive amount of jewelry at Canaan House? Coronabeth. Was Harrow trying to look more like Corona, and if so, why? More crunchy gender food for thought…)

Ultimately. if your takeaway from the Ianthe makeover scene was "ah, Harrow would have been more comfortable if Ianthe gave her a suit" …I wouldn’t say that’s unreasonable. You could certainly do an alternative read of the scene as Ianthe force-feminizing a butch or nonbinary-leaning Harrow. (And if someone writes that essay I would love to read it!) But I don’t think that’s the only valid interpretation, and my personal read of the scene is that Ianthe is trying to coerce Harrow into a sexualized and gatekept definition of femme that Harrow strongly rejects.

It’s the pain and powerlessness of being told you’re doing your own gender wrong. Then having someone “helpfully” show you how to perform it right …only to look in the mirror afterwards and recognize yourself even less. And at that point, starting to miserably wonder if you’re even allowed to be your gender at all. Does that make sense?

Well, even if it doesn’t, thanks for reading to the end! 🖤 💀 🖤

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #harrowhark nonagesimus #ianthe tridentarius #tlt analysis #my tlt stuff #my ramblings #read more #note: edited a few bits 1.10.23 for further clarity of terms #anyway this seemed like a good segue #from last week’s ianthe-themed queue #into the harrow&ianthe art queue I'm planning to do next

[merakiui]

https://merakiui.tumblr.com/post/694704858408927232/httpsmerakiuitumblrcompost694504367251914752

ejfjfhjdjddj i’m imagining Azul having the twins bring you to his office and at first you’re tense. does he know your secret? did he tell the twins? oh god what if he wants you to do particularly lewd things? you’re sat down and left alone with Azul until he clears his throat, telling you what he knows of your “situation”. of course you react in the obvious form of being speechless but he gives you no time to react as he gives you a proposal.

“work for me and i’ll keep you safe.” is all he says and what better options do you even have? who knows what will happen if the whole school finds out your secret. so you bite your tongue and sign the golden contract. with the added benefits of health insurance and being paid, the waitressing he wants you to do after school doesn’t seem to bad at first. but then Azul smirks and gets up to the nearby closet and pulls out your uniform. and that uniform being a maid costume.

laughing my ass off at the thought of MC being hired as a maid and still trying to parade herself as a guy when it’s basically an open secret around NRC that you’re female. with the only person under guise that your “secret” is still safe, is yourself. MC gaslighting herself into thinking that no one knows she’s a girl 😭 hell even Crowley knows and doesn’t care because money is money

The fact that it’s a custom-made maid outfit with Octavinelle’s colors and crest makes you wonder how long this plan of his has been sprouting. You’d wear a butler uniform if he had one, but Azul only frowns and feigns misfortune. How sad that this uniform is tailored to you and you don’t wish to put it on. What a shame.

You’ve already signed the contract, so there’s not much you can do when it comes to protesting. So you suck it up, put the maid dress on, and start your shifts. Jade compliments you, saying the dress and all its frills suit you. If you could, you’d throttle him. Floyd hugs you the moment he sees you, comparing you to a sparkling jellyfish instead of the usual shrimp comparison. You can only endure it while he spins you around, thoroughly enjoying himself and the sight before him.

Azul never said anything about protecting your secret. He just said he’d keep you safe. At this point, anyone who comes to the Mostro Lounge while you’re working soon learns of your secret, and it does well to bring in more customers. Azul marvels at the rise in profit. He’s so glad he got you to sign a contract before someone from any of the other dorms tried to snap you up for their own use.

I imagine some of the customers poke fun and cause problems just to order you to fix them. You try to smile through all of the humiliation and irritation despite wanting to tell these guys to act civil. Some of them even attempt to flip your skirt or snap panty shots when they think you aren’t looking. One day, you’re nearing the end of your shift, absolutely defeated and exhausted after putting up with so much nonsense, when one of the customers tries to record you as you bend over to clean a spill on the floor. At this point, you’re too tired to get up and snatch his phone from him.

Who would have thought someone would come to your aid. Floyd steps in front of you, draping a jacket over you while turning back to the unlucky soul. He smiles brightly and you turn to look up at him, soon silenced into both amusement and shock when you see he’s wearing a maid dress. Floyd cracks his knuckles as he approaches the student, who shrinks back in his seat.

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked maids,” he jeers. “Maids clean messes up. Seems like I’ve got extra work. That’s no fun at all.”

Floyd’s already intimidating in his original uniform. The fact that he put on a maid dress just to come to your aid is both scary and amusing to consider. He twirls you around after he’s nearly squeezed the student to death, happily telling you that the both of you match. How fun!! Obviously he wants something for saving his pretty shrimpy, so you’ll pat him on the head and thank him for his hard work. Floyd’s grown very fond of your touch. That instantly brightens him.

Jade gets envious over how much attention you give his brother. He considers donning a maid outfit so that the three of you match. Azul cannot believe his ears when Jade tells him he wants a maid dress as well. He was willing to entertain Floyd’s whims, but now his hardworking Vice Housewarden wants one? What is going on? What effect do you have on the twins for them to be absolutely serious about maid dresses?

He lies awake at night pondering whether or not he should wear one. Would you like him more if he did that? Now is not the time to confuse work with love, but these thoughts haunt him in the late hours of night.

#twisted chit chat #darling really gaslights herself like kalim gaslighting himself into thinking everything’s fine and happy orz

[valeriesrevenge]

okay i just saw a post on the “terf friendly” tag from someone with BPD and struggling with their identity and the dots connected, it clicked right then and there. i’ve just never seen or heard anyone talk about it before. i’m still interested in your thoughts on the matter, but i’m pretty sure i already agree with you.

Hey, thanks for asking!

BPD has a whole range of symptoms listed in the DSM-5 including self-harming behaviours, risk taking, hypersexuality, fear of abandonment and identity issues. I believe nearly every woman has or will fit the diagnostic criteria at some time in their lives, usually as young adults. I know I have, because I’ve been nearly diagnosed with this a few times, and my sister was misdiagnosed with this and only recently got properly diagnosed with anxiety.

A male doctor diagnosing this in a female patient, especially one he has literally just met, is medical misogyny and gaslighting. ‘Borderline’ refers to the border between sane and insane. They are medically and officiall calling (female) patients ‘borderline’ crazy for having pretty normal feelings.

It’s become incredibly over-diagnosed in women, and the symptoms have now been ‘watered-down’ in diagnosing it, meaning they are now diagnosing women that should never have been diagnosed. If you go to a mental health practitioner while a) female, and b) crying, it’s basically what you’ll get diagnosed with. I imagine it’s what ‘hysteria’ used to be, just add new psych jargon.

It’s a personality disorder, so it’s considered somewhat permanent and virtually untreatable. Most doctors also consider it an ‘annoying’ personality type, ascribing all kinds of new symptoms to it like ‘manipulative’ and ‘over-dramatic’ which aren’t helpful.

I think can be traumatic to be diagnosed with this when your symptoms may come from other sources, like anxiety or CPTSD or just being a woman in crisis. It’s incredibly invalidating to one’s emotions and experiences. The patient is basically being told that they are insane for having (what they consider to be) ‘unreasonable’ feelings and being unsure of how they want to present themselves in the world.

In conclusion, most women that think they have it do not, male psychiatrists are lazy and will gaslight you at most any opportunity, and always get another opinion.

#radical feminism #gender critical #gender non compliant #radfem do touch #radfems please interact #radfem safe #radfems allowed #terfs do interact #radfem #fuck male psychiatrists #BPD #BPD is the new hysteria

[waitmyturtles]

Like last week, I’ll write up bigger Double Savage thoughts after the airing of tomorrow’s episode, but some quick notes on episode 3:

(Actually, I don’t know if I can do quick notes, because this episode held a lot.)

It’s clear that, along the lines of 10 Years Ticket, the Midnight Series, The Eclipse, and others -- that this show is about Big Commentary on a number of cultural themes that deeply affect Thai/Asian society and families.

How Korn can remain so loyal to his mother and siblings might well be beyond the understanding of many -- especially from where they stood emotionally as Korn’s father kicked Korn out. How Korn can remain so empathic to his friends and family after what’s happened to him -- it’s a little mind-boggling.

When he sees Pea, Korn reveals his internalized imposter syndrome, learned from his father’s treatment towards him: “I don’t want to drag anyone down. I don’t want anyone associated with me. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

When Korn says to Li: “Our family doesn’t need a jinx like me.” He’s internalized the demeaning, destructive feedback that his father gave him. He wants to protect the family that he still loves by getting the fuck outta that house, and giving his father exactly what his father wants, because Korn thinks that that’s what will be good for his family. Good lord.

As I mentioned last week, when trying to understand why Korn shot the gun: it’s this internalized trauma that’s the key and real reason why Korn has ended up where he is. And how the chips continue to fall during that process -- how Li, of all people, ends up holding a gun. It’s a very predictable journey that a family will take, into poverty/crime/other negative socioeconomic impacts, that stem from an origin of family trauma. 

I’ve been reading that young Asians on TikTok, watching Double Savage, are posting about their own experiences being a middle child, a darker-skinned child, a cast-out, a black sheep. It’s REALLY MOVING TO ME (like, I feel my heart in pain) hearing about young Asians relating to this show, because I do, too. I basically lived out my internalized commentary about myself, believing EVERYTHING my family said about me, throughout my twenties, and spent my twenties recovering from that trauma. It wasn’t until a dear friend of mine, someone who I objectively trusted, stopped me mid-sentence in my explaining why my life was a mess, to tell me: dude, you’re doing fine. You can’t believe that shit.

I’d never heard that before, because in my case, my parents and siblings were all telling me that my life was out of control...when in fact, I was just paying rent and working, which they weren’t doing. I was living a normalized paradigm of society that they had actually rejected -- and gaslit me into believing that it WASN’T worth doing.

So this gaslighting that Korn’s father has done unto Korn -- it’s seriously relatable, completely emotionally unintelligible, and the endgame of where Korn has now ended up is totally believable, considering he BELIEVES WHAT HIS FATHER HAS SAID ABOUT HIM.

And yet. He makes his promises to Win that he won’t have feelings for Rung (BAD CHOICE, KORN AND WIN, THAT WILL END BADLY, no no no no nooooooooo, bros). He makes his promise to Li that he won’t do anything illegal. 

Korn, right now, still believes in the dualism of good vs. bad. He believes people are good or bad. He believes he’s a bad person. We see that Win will get into the police academy tomorrow. The police represent good... right?

Not from what Ah and Mek are telling Korn. We see now that that dualistic vision that Korn has in his youthful mind will get blown to pieces -- and he’ll begin to understand the how and why of how people are so complicated as he grows up. 

I see this show getting into Jojo-esque territory about how the people THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO CARE FOR US VERY OFTEN FAIL US -- our parents, our public enforcement, our politicians, etc. Why do families, like Pea’s, need to go to the local mafia/Robin Hood to borrow money? Likely because social structures are failing families. 

Dang it. This show’s gonna get into the shit. Now that Bed Friend is over, I can likely handle it better. But this show’s gonna get into the shit, and I’m hoping will be good about it. I’m finding these episodes to be quite the opposite of a drag -- they’re VERY well done, and Ohm/Perth/Film are kicking ass together. Let’s see about tomorrow.

#double savage #double savage meta #ohmperth #ohm pawat #perth tanapon #film rachanun #bad parenting #really bad parenting #asian family culture #asian family dynamics

[pelideswhore]

Summary: Agamemnon returns to Sparta from the civil war in Mycenae in order to ask for Clytemnestra's hand in marriage—just to learn that she is now already a wife and a mother. He takes it upon himself to do what must be done to claim what is rightfully his.

TW: assassination, stabbing, neck snapping, infanticide, incest (Agamemnon and Clytemnestra are basically step-siblings), grooming (Agamemnon is 22, Clytemnestra is 16–their ages are not mentioned but reflected in writing), toxic relationship, fade to black, gaslighting

A/N: i still have not gotten over vans’ rating of this fic so here it is despite the fact that i haven’t posted my writing on tumblr in ages. in most versions agamemnon’s tantalus and clytemnestra’s tantalus is the same guy but that literally makes no sense so i just changed him to some guy with the same name here

Word Count: 3,233

AO3 | Request | ask to be added to taglist

Blood-Red Hands

PART I | PART II | PART III

Agamemnon’s personal guard stayed outside with the Spartan guard while he entered the throne room. He smiled at the sight of the formal line-up the royal family was standing in, then started laughing as he walked down the fancy rugs they had laid out for him. “You all look like someone’s shoved a spear up your asses.” He stopped in front of the throne. “Loosen up, it’s me. I’m not a stranger.” Despite that, he bowed low in front of the King of Sparta.

Tyndareus chuckled and Agamemnon stood straight. “It’s not every day you get to meet the King of Mycenae.” He took Agamemnon’s hand with both of his and smiled warmly.

“Just a handshake?” Agamemnon asked, smirking. He took his hand out of Tyndareus’ and pulled him into a tight embrace. “I’m still your son,” he whispered into his ear. Some flattery would do no harm for when he wanted to make his request.

The king of Sparta patted Agamemnon on the back once he had let go and moved on to the next people in the row. Castor and Pollux were grinning from ear to ear as he came closer and pulled them in with one arm each. When he had left for Mycenae, they barely reached his armpits, now they surpassed his chin. “You’re not beating us in any races anymore,” Castor snickered. Even their voices had gotten deeper.

“We’ll see about that.”

Next in line was Helen. She too was smiling, arms slightly opened, welcoming him in for a hug. He put an arm behind her back and kissed her cheek. “It’s always good to see you,” he said, already moving on to his brother before she could return the greeting.

The first thing he noticed about Menelaus was that he had grown out his hair. The strands of what looked like falling fire now reached his jaw—it looked good, and Agamemnon told him as such. But Menelaus snickered. “Couldn’t say the same about you. Your hair looks like a pile of shit that’s been dragged through Tartarus and back.”

Agamemnon inhaled sharply. “You fucking bastard,” he hissed, running his hand through his hair once, then twice.

Menelaus slapped his hand away. “Tell me what it’s like back home.”

“It’s … amazing. We kept our treasures, took what Aegisthus has left too.” Agamemnon lowered his voice. “I might just be the richest king in all of Greece now, and trade is going great. The people couldn’t be gladder that we’re back.”

Menelaus smiled sadly and shook his head.

“No, you can’t.” Agamemnon shook his head. “You belong in Mycenae. You can’t stay here.”

He shook his head again. “I don’t belong in Mycenae, Agamemnon. I’ve spent almost half of my life here, I'm the prince of Sparta now.”

Agamemnon sighed. There was no convincing him of anything else. Besides, the Fates only knew—having a brother in Sparta may prove beneficial someday.

“How’s Pleisthenes? Is she well?” Menelaus continued.

“Couldn’t be better. She got married.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, she gave birth just before I left for Sparta. We’re uncles to a healthy boy,” Agamemnon said, nudging him. “She named him ‘Pylades’.”

Menelaus smiled. “May the Gods bless him and keep him from harm.”

Agamemnon grinned and flicked him on the forehead. “You sentimental fuck.”

He turned, looking for the true reason he’d come all this way. On Tyndareus’ other side stood Clytemnestra, but Agamemnon’s eyes trailed over her to the man she was standing beside. He frowned. He hadn’t noticed him before, but it did explain why they were all being so uptight. Agamemnon frowned, looking between the man, Tyndareus, and Clytemnestra. “Who is this?”

The man extended his hand and Agamemnon reluctantly shook it while Tyndareus introduced him. “This is Tantalus,”—blood rushed to his head—“Clytemnestra’s husband.” Agamemnon’s heart dropped and his eyes sliced to her. She looked up at him with big, pleading eyes and Agamemnon barely stopped himself from stabbing right through the man, then and there.

Tantalus let go of his hand, which had gone all clammy. “No one thought to let me know?” he asked. Even to him, his voice sounded tense.

“We weren’t sure how stable the situation in Mycenae was.” Tyndareus paused. “You know, you getting overthrown and all.”

“Yes, thank you.” I am king now though. He moved on to Clytemnestra with a straight face. Her eyes were glued to his face, practically begging for a reaction, but he avoided them as he leaned down to kiss her cheek like he had Helen’s.

—

The door slammed shut behind Agamemnon even though he tried to sneak in quietly. Clytemnestra turned around and he turned the lock. “What the fuck was that?” he asked, storming inside.

She met him halfway. “Don’t be angry, Agamemnon.”

“‘Don’t be angry’? Are you fucking serious?”

“I wanted to tell you, I really did.”

“You wanted to tell me? What about not marrying him in the first place?”

“It wasn’t my choice!” She pushed him away gently and gestured to her bed. “It’s good enough that he agreed to marry me after you.” She looked at him meaningfully.

He rolled his eyes. “What’s next? Do you have kids now too?”

Her eyes widened and she looked between the floor and the door.

Agamemnon stepped away from her, shaking his head slowly. “No. No, you don’t.” His hand traveled up to his waist. He pushed his sword out of the way. “Clytemnestra…” He exhaled shakily, then started laughing ironically. “You know I came here to ask Tyndareus for your hand in marriage?”

“I want to marry you.” She approached him again and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I would marry you.”

He absentmindedly walked around her room. At least her room hadn’t changed since he’d last seen it. Her large bed was on the platform, the maroon drapes hanging on either side. A chair and loom beside the window, and a door to her bath on the other side. He walked around the sofa in the middle of the room and back to her once he had registered what she had said.

Agamemnon leaned down to put his forehead against hers and smiled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She looked away. “I would marry you. If it weren’t for certain obstacles standing in the way.”

Agamemnon put a single finger on Clytemnestra’s cheek and turned her head to face him. “What are you implying?” he whispered. “If I were to get rid of the obstacles for you, you would marry me?”

“I would.”

He smiled. “Then I’ll show you just how far I’ll go for you.”

Clytemnestra kissed him and smiled against his lips. “The door is locked?”

He kissed her. “Of course."

NEXT CHAPTER

#greek mythology #greek myth #agamemnon #clytemnestra #agamemnon and clytemnestra #i hate tags! i hate tags! yayyy!!! #ancient greece #mythology #greek gods #mythos #greek mythos #greek heroes #myth #iliad #epic cycle #homer #fics #writing #greek mythology fic #menelaus #helen of troy #helen of sparta #castor and pollux #ao3 #my writing #ancient sparta #pre canon #and other tags #just reblog this pls. tysm.

[olderthannetfic]

My fandom’s main “shipwar” is between the canon m/f pairing and the non-canon but ten times more popular m/m pairing. I’m a multishipper and I like both, as well as the mmf threesome. So I don’t really have a dog in this fight, as it were. But one thing that continuously baffles me is how upset the canon m/f shippers get about the non-canon m/m shippers explaining why they don’t ship the canon ship.

The m/f shippers say because they never feel the need to mention the m/m ship on their posts, that the m/m shippers should not mention the m/f ship on their posts. But I think those are two very different circumstances. Like, of course there’s no reason to randomly bring up a non-canon ship when making meta about a canon pairing. The baseline assumption in most fandoms regarding transformative works is “like canon, unless noted” so that would be superfluous and feel targeted. But when discussing a non-canon ship, especially one which requires the canon ship to break up, I think, naturally, due to the same principle, those non-canon shippers are going to lay out what they personally don’t like about the canon ship, and why they think the non-canon ship is better.

I guess, what I’m saying is, I’ve always seen putting up with a lot of different people not liking your pairing and complaining loudly about it as part of the price of having a canon ship. In all the other fandoms I’ve been in, the canon ships have been almost universally reviled, and the handful of people who do ship them don’t seem all that surprised by all the meta that exists from non-canon shippers about why the canon ship doesn’t work. They just find solace in the fact that their pairing is the one that gets onscreen kisses, and seem adept at ignoring the haters.

But in this fandom, the canon m/f shippers act like anyone voicing dislike of their ship is a personal attack. And they frequently write rant posts about it, to the point that I have a hard time following the m/f ship tag, even though I ship it, because I’m tired of it being full of people complaining about the m/m shippers (of which, I am also a member).

To some extent, I understand the canon m/f shippers’ frustrations. The fandom tag is basically unnavigable without running into untagged content for the non-canon m/m ship. And there is unfortunately a swath of the non-canon m/m shippers who are rude, exhibit harassing behaviors, and harbor misogynistic attitudes toward the canon female love interest. Which I’ve called out multiple times on my blog as unacceptable. But one of the canon m/f shippers referred to simple meta discussing the media through the lens of the non-canon m/m pairing as “gaslighting”. And I just don’t think that’s a fair interpretation.

While there definitely have been bad actors on both sides of the “shipwar”, I don’t think just saying “I think the dynamic between the non-canon pairing is more interesting and well written than the canon pairing, and here’s some scenes from the original media that showcase why” on one’s own blog is an act of “ship hate” or “gaslighting” or contradictory to the principles of Ship and Let Ship. It’s just an opinion based on a different reading of the text.

I suppose my question is, do you think its contrary to the principles of Ship and Let Ship to explain why you personally don’t ship a pairing (assuming you’re not harassing or insulting the shippers of that pairing)? And why do canon shippers act like it’s an act of malice for other people to voice that they don’t like their ship for xyz reason?

--

Of course it's fine to explain your own tastes.

Canon shippers have always been prone to whining that their ship isn't the most popular and/or that it isn't the only one that's popular.

[amysubmits]

Where I Stand (For Now)

It’s been an ugly week around D/s tumblr. I’ve been reading and trying to process. 

I’ve done my best to read as much as I could about this topic. I have re-read all of the posts I could find at least once. Still, I have a gut feeling that I have somehow missed something. I saw where CherishedProperty stated that she feels like she has about 5 pieces of a 100 piece puzzle. I feel much the same way. I have seen the two blogs sharing information about this receive asks wanting more information or expressing confusion, and the responses are that the information is already out on the blogs. This is why despite feeling like I’m missing something, I‘ve decided to speak now rather than wait. However, I am absolutely open to changing my mind if I see information that I haven’t yet seen.   

I’ve seen 144 accused of these specific behaviors:

Prioritizing his blog over his sub.

Not texting/calling his sub while “off grid” camping, without giving prior warning that he wouldn’t be in touch. The sub said after he got back he said he though he had told her he would be out of contact. 

Asking his sub to be private about their relationship. The sub has stated she was okay with this at the time.

Responding to asks he would receive about littles by saying things like “I don’t know, I don’t do littles” while he was in a D/s relationship with a little.  

Being married to someone else while having a sub. I have no idea if this is ethical non-monogamy or cheating. 

I saw a screenshot of a DM where someone had basically asked what was going on with these accusations Dani has shared, where he responded that he thinks Dani is experiencing mania. 

Sharing two of his friends’ very personal information with other people.

People on tumblr have tagged him and asked him to respond to these, and he hasn’t. 

*Edit - a day or two after I posted this, 144 did make a statement. 

Also here is Dani’s blog post of compiled links. 

I’ve also seen statements like these said about 144

He is our Harvey Weinstein

This is our #MeToo movement

He’s a predator

His new username is “ped0-like”

Him and JD targeted and corralled littles

He has run a gaslighting campaign on all of his followers.

My take is this....

I believe the specific accusations. I think these behaviors show that he has been dishonest, hypocritical and untrustworthy. I see the lack of communication with his sub as neglectful. It doesn’t sound like he was taking his responsibility to his sub seriously enough or prioritizing her enough. 

I understand why his ex-sub, his old friends who have had their information shared with others, and others in the tumblr community are hurt, angry, or disappointed. I feel disappointed myself and I have never been close with 144. 

What I don’t understand is the list of statements (the ones in italics). For example, “he is our Harvey Weinsein” and “this is our #metoo moment”. Harvey Weinstein is a serial rapist. #MeToo is about sexual assault, too. I have seen nobody say that 144 sexually assaulted them, so I don’t understand these statement being used in reference to what he stands accused of. I have also seen general statements about JD of OLK being abusive towards his sub Pip and I have seen nothing at all to back this up. I’m just feeling a pretty significant disconnect between the specific behaviors people have shared, vs the general statements being said about him. I haven’t seen information that supports the general statements. 

If anyone has content that they think I may have missed, anything that supports the italicized statements or other misdeeds beyond what I listed in the first bulleted group, I would appreciate being sent links. My stance here isn’t set in stone, it’s just where I’m at with what I’ve seen so far. 

[boleynns]

Your new post gives me hope but people are saying apparently the reason why daemon and rhaenyra get married is because alicent comes running at her with a knife and later she’s outside in this coat we see in the trailer telling daemon “she will block my way” so they marry each other because it benefits both of them. I swear y’all I haven’t read the books and I’ve heard so much of opposing perspectives and that this point it seems like the people who were saying it was for “political reasons” are correct😓

I don't know how to help you anon, but I will try to be your therapist. I just one thousand percent don't agree that those people are "correct", hence the 3k word meta explaining my thoughts in detail, but here are more words because I can't let you go on like this.

If those people seriously think there could be no romantic/emotional reasons factoring into their decision to get married -- after they've finally slept together after a 10 year separation, and soon after that Daemon sees Rhaenyra nearly get stabbed in the face -- then I just don't know what to tell those people other than "Please gain emotional intelligence," because those are all extremely emotionally charged events.

Just because something could possibly be interpreted as politically expedient (which literally any decision these two make could be, because he is the king's brother and she is the heir to the freaking throne -- their entire existences are political!), or just because it also could maybe put Rhaenyra in a better political position (which it kind of does, but also kind of doesn't), doesn't negate the obvious love/respect/lust/want/etc. emotions for each other that are absolutely influencing their decisions.

Not to mention, Daemon and Rhaenyra have both had a TON to say in multiple episodes/plots about the absolute hatred they have for being made to marry someone they don't want to marry. That has been a huge sticking-point and theme in both of their character's stories so far, and there is no way they would torture each other by being each other's next unwanted spouse. Ain't NO WAY they are getting married, IN A SECRET VALYRIAN BLOOD-EXCHANGE CEREMONY, if they don't want to. As I said in my meta, if they just were getting married for political reasons, they could just do the Big Sept Wedding with the feasts and the pomp and the copy/paste vows we've seen over-and-over again, but they do not do that.

I feel like I am out of breath from typing so much, but I just refuse to let you all forget that Daemon and Rhaenyra are extremely emotional characters (especially Daemon), and refuse to let you keep gaslighting yourself into thinking that they are robots who only care about power and not each other.

Like. Their very first scene together, which is Daemon's character introduction as well (and so is very telling about his character even outside of his relationship to Rhaenyra), is basically everything I am trying to explain! They banter! They speak Valyrian! They are honest and open with one another in a way they aren't with other people! They meet secretly to have little conversations! Daemon walks down off the throne to be on her level! He speaks to her with love and affection, with zero "political" reason or incentive! He brings her super personal gifts because they connect on a Valyrian/Dragonblood level like no others! How many different ways can I say the same words!

They are going to kick political ass together while also staring into each others eyes and having sex on every available surface, and then they will vanquish their enemies in very sexy and violent ways. It's gonna be great!

#daemon x rhaenyra #accidental addendum to my meta #hotd spoilers #i will usher you to a more optimistic perspective even if it kills me haha #fandom therapy session in my inbox

[demi-shoggoth]

Portrait of the Artist as a Young Enbie

This is going to be a Very Personal Post. You have been warned.

I have not had an easy life. I went to graduate school, thinking I wanted to be a research scientist. I got suckered by a con-man who could see that I was smart but that I was naïve, and that he could use me. Turn me into an absolute slave. And he tried. And he got really close. But he failed.

One of the reasons he failed was because of the woman in my life at the time. She was a childhood friend, and we played games together for years. We had drifted apart, and then drifted back together, and were so happy with each other. And she helped me realize that that bad scientist wasn’t going to control my life.

But she had had a bad life too. Worse than mine. She was basically Cinderella, forced to act as the sole responsible member of a household by an abusive parent whose parents had abused her. And she, my girlfriend, realized that she liked being in charge. And that I was weak, and that she could take advantage of that.

When things were good with her, they were very very good. But when they were bad, they were Awful. We liked to play games with each other, right? But those games now had a nasty edge to them. She always had to win. Always. And that included at games like “who’s right about what happened six months ago?” “Who does more chores?” “Who gets to make all of the decisions?”

And she had a trump card she could always use. My sexuality.

I’ve always been a weird kid into monsters and magic and stuff, and as my sexuality blossomed, that interest became an erotic one. The first time I got erect, it was to a picture in a Monster Manual. The first time I realized that you didn’t have to stay a boy? Was by accidentally putting on a Girdle of Sex Change in Baldur’s Gate. And on some level, I think that she recognized that I was genderqueer and didn’t know it yet. So that was something she could hold over my head. She controlled me with gaslighting, and she controlled me with bullying, and she controlled me with sexual shame.

But I got out. Thank goddess. It was hard, and it took literally a year of living apart before I realized that I never never never wanted to live together again. But I did it.

And the next year? I openly admitted that I was nonbinary to one of my coworkers. After crying in a staff meeting and she was the only one who noticed or cared.

I was doing better by that point, but I was still sad. I thought that maybe I was a bad teacher who didn’t deserve to have a good job, and I took the first job that was offered to me the next year because it seemed Good Enough.

It wasn’t

The commute was miserable, for one thing. And the pay very low. Low enough that it didn’t cover everything I needed it to. Some weeks it felt like I was pouring my entire paycheck into my gas tank, and had no time for anything but work, drive, sleep, repeat.

And the people there. There were definitely a few good people there? But they were outweighed by the bad. Petty little crooks who made you feel like a wretch when you tried to assert yourself. Teachers who casually made transphobic jokes and thought that gender neutral bathrooms were a stupid idea. I was bullied there. I was bullied by my bosses, by my coworkers, and even by my students.

I turned to alcohol to help me sleep, to help me cope. I always like trying new things, so I experimented with what beers I liked best. And, like any mad scientist, I drunk too deep and started changing myself. In bad ways.

It got so bad that I realized, I want to kill myself.

Not “it might be better if I were dead”. Which I had done before, with the bad boss and the bad girlfriend. But “I could make that happen”

And I realized that that was a bridge too far.

There’s a version of this story that ends with me drinking myself to death. That’s what happened to one of my grandfathers.

But you know what happened to my other grandfather? He got out of a bad marriage, found a good one, and was happy for decades.

So I realized that actively wanting to kill myself was an important decision in the Good End/Bad End version of my life, and I got out of that Bad Place.

It was hard. My medical insurance made it as annoying for me as possible. I had panic attacks about missed appointments and phone trees. But I eventually found someone. A psychiatrist, who was also a weird queer woman, just like I was trying to deny that I was.

She told me, as soon as she walked in the door and looked at my blood work, “so it looks like you’ve been binge drinking”

And I could have turtled up. Gotten defensive and lashed out. But instead, my response was, “really? Tell me more”

And she did. And the prescription she gave me wasn’t for pills, wasn’t for drugs. It was for apple cider vinegar and for Vitamin B-12. “This will clean out your liver,” she said.

And I thought that that was a little woo woo. But I did it anyway. Because I felt like I could trust this woman

The apple cider vinegar was tasty. I always liked sour flavors, and I could experiment with how much vinegar to water I could push myself with before I didn’t like it. And, doing all that kept me from buying and drinking so much beer. Vinegar is much cheaper than beer, which meant I could afford more gasoline, and I was able to keep from going broke while working at a shitty job. And so even though it was very clear that that my bosses were just looking for excuses to fire me, I was a good teacher until the day I walked out the door. And the lesson I tried to teach as many people as possible before I left?

You have choices. Don’t make the easiest ones. Make the right ones.

Here’s how the biochemistry of this all worked. Because I am a scientist, after all, even if I don't have a PhD. The liver processes many things, including signals from the bacterial community of the large intestine, and drugs and toxins. Alcohol is both a drug and a toxin, of course. Having so much beer awash in my guts and awash with my blood was changing the bacteria inside me. Only the gut bacteria who could survive regular doses of poison were hanging on. And to deal with that poison, my liver cells were prioritizing making smooth endoplasmic reticulum instead of any other job. And my DNA was being modified, just a little, with epigenetic markers that helped it make more smooth ER and survive the constant alcohol poisoning.

That’s what fatty liver disease is. There are healthy ways to be fat, and unhealthy ways, and fatty liver disease is one of the unhealthy ones. Fatty liver disease is when liver cells have so much smooth ER that they don’t work right. And if that kills too many of them, it eats holes in your liver. Your liver is pretty durable, but not infinitely so. And your liver falls apart. It’s called cirrhosis.

But by drinking apple cider vinegar instead of beer, I was not only reducing the amount of poison, but also reintroducing critters into my guts. My microbiota was stressed and scared, and had a lower diversity. Diversity is strength,  on every scale. By drinking apple cider vinegar, I was bringing in new bacteria to my guts. Fermented foods have living critters in them. And as my guts became less hostile and my liver was better able to do its job, some of those friendly little monsters stuck around. And started pushing out the weedy bacteria to a safer, lower, population level. Turning a vacant lot into a beautiful meadow.

And my liver responded in turn. Making less smooth ER and more enzymes and signals that would help it talk to that meadow, and take care of it. And the Vitamin B-12 helped to lock those changes in place. Vitamin B-12 is what the body uses to make methyl groups, which are used to turn off parts of the DNA that the body doesn’t need right now, in that cell, in that tissue, in that organ.

And I lost weight, and I started sleeping better, and my skin improved. And I didn’t want to kill myself. And I got more comfortable with my sexuality, and my gender, and started telling people I was trans and now just thinking about transitioning. And when I got a bad girlfriend again? Another weird gamer with trauma who wanted to lash out? I made it very clear that she couldn’t manipulate me, and she was in and out of my life in six weeks. Six weird weeks, with some good sex. But I realized that I could do better, both from a romantic and a sexual perspective.

When I went to see that psychiatrist again, she told me that, looking at the latest blood work, I had the liver of a teenager. And then she told me about herself.

She was an immigrant. And queer. And she thought that the United States would be a land of acceptance, and her homeland wasn't. So she left the homophobia there and she found racism in Reagan’s America. And the AIDS pandemic. And she was sad, but she coped. And then helped people survive racism, survive Reagan, survive a pandemic. Helped people with AIDS die better in a loving environment, and help the survivors deal with their trauma.

And now she was happy

Seeing a Cool Weird Science Witch who fought through hard times and survive inspired me. She was a role model, even if I couldn’t admit it to myself.

I nearly killed myself, the easy way or the hard way, but I got out of it with the help of understanding my own biology, my own desires, and my own goals.

I found the love that I needed and deserved.

And I want to share that with you. 

#personal post #long post #not putting this behind a read more #deal with it #about the author #suicide tw #gaslighting tw #emotional abuse #biology #biochemistry #queer #lgtbq #trans #💙💙💙 #💙💚💜