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nomazee · 3 days

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Hello, how are you? 🥰

If it's okay, can I request, for the event, Ranpo + bodyguard!reader (Ranpo still being a famous?detective) + 3am? 😊

LOVED THIS CONCEPT i hope i did it justice,,, in a perfect world i would write like a million companion pieces to this but this is it FOR NOW… THANK U SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING!!

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

“Do you really have to stay up like that?”

“Yes.”

Ranpo sighs, dropping back down onto the rock-hard bed and knocking the air out of his own chest. Just three feet away from him on the floor, you’re sat against the wall, arms crossed and legs stretched out in front of you. Your gaze is locked on the door of the motel room, which unnerves Ranpo. It feels like you’re a statue in his room, unmoving and cold, and he’d really like to go to bed without worrying about something as mundane as your comfort.

“There’s a couch right over there,” he gestures to the decently-sized sofa just a few paces away from your current position. “You can lay down, you know. Relax a little bit. Our main job is over.”

“This is my main job,” you correct him, breaking eye contact with the door in favor of glancing over at him. He’s turned onto his side now, head resting on top of his folded hands. Having you in his sight is more comforting than it has any right to be. It’s your job to keep him in your sights, but you’re too busy with the possibility of an intruder breaking through the door in front of you or the window behind you.

“Do you even sleep?” he asks. “You’ve been ‘on-duty’ for, what, twenty hours now? Don’t you think you deserve a nap, or something?”

“I’m paid by the hour,” you politely inform him, “this is fine to me. You’re not the first person I’ve done this job for, so I’m not an amateur.”

Another exasperated sigh tears its way out of his chest. You’re more stubborn than he is, and your tenacity is both admirable and frustrating. Both of you had gone around the city, taking buses and treading through alleyways for the entire day. You pulled your weapon out at least twice today, and Ranpo’s asked an awful lot of questions to an awful lot of people in his investigation. His mouth still feels dry from all the talking.

You’d gotten back much later than anticipated after finally making an arrest. Getting the local police to cooperate was a hassle, but Ranpo’s track record was enough to prove his points ten times over. On top of that, you’d singlehandedly restrained the criminal when the cops wouldn’t do anything about it, and Ranpo thinks you might deserve a place in his spotlight for all your hard work.

The point is—it’s late, and you both expended all your energy, yet Ranpo is still on-edge because you’re sitting straight up against the wall like a freakish owl. Fukuzawa was kind enough to let the both of you stay overnight at a motel before taking a train back to Yokohama tomorrow at noon. He’d be disappointed if he learned that Ranpo let you sleep on the floor. Or not sleep at all.

“It’s not about being an amateur,” Ranpo groans, turning to lay on his back again and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s about being a normal person and sleeping when you’re supposed to. Don’t be weird. Just lay down, or something.”

“...the floor is cold.”

“Seriously?” he clicks his tongue. “I told you, there’s a couch right there.”

“The couch is cold too. There’s no blankets. If I can’t sleep comfortably, I’d rather not sleep at all.”

The admission rings a little too loud in the otherwise empty room. Ranpo is sure there’s some underlying story behind that, something that he could easily discern in just a second. But he’s tired, and he actually likes you, so he’ll give you another day before he starts tearing into your background like a rabid animal chewing at fast food scraps.

Ranpo sits up yet again, exhausted from all the times he’s changed position in bed, and shuffles over to the far side of the bed that’s pressed against the wall. He tugs the blankets closer to him but leaves a nice empty spot for you on the other side, patting it with his hand. “Look, a warm comfy place on an actual bed. Can you sleep now?”

You blink up at him, and he’s struck with the image of an owl yet again. It would be endearing if you weren’t so odd. “You really don’t have to do that, Edogawa.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Don’t call me that! Nobody else does. Just lay down and go to bed already! I need a good seven hours before I can even move again.”

You laugh at that, which is a small unspoken victory in Ranpo’s head. It’s a small thing, breathy and meant to be hidden, but Ranpo pays attention to it because of course he does. Finally, you stand up from your cramped place beneath the window and slowly make yourself comfortable on the side of the bed newly reserved for you. Ranpo hopes that you didn't interpret his words as a command, and are doing this of your own volition instead—but a victory is a victory, and he’s just relieved that you’ve stopped staring bug-eyed at the door.

“No one will break in,” he says, a last-ditch effort at reassurance to really make sure you’re not just laying on your back at high-alert the whole night. “And if they do, you’ll just kick their ass. You’ll be fine.”

You make a vague noise in response, back already turned to him as you sink into the mattress. Ranpo’s consciousness dwindles as the weariness starts to sink into his bones like an ache, and he wonders if Fukuzawa would hire you again if Ranpo asked him enough times.

#nora hits 1k #ranpo x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #edogawa ranpo x reader #edogawa x reader #bsd ranpo x reader #i haven’t watched bsd in so long i’ve lost my touch….i hope he’s mostly in character

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manic-marzal · 11 hours

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hot take but i think the novelty of ancient breeds and their line breaking genes has worn out a little and i don’t think it makes up for them not being to wear apparel at all or breed with normal dragons

imo aethers, dusthides, gaolers, sandsurges, and veilspun aren’t wacky enough to be ancient breeds. we’ve got bug with horns, smooth boi fat tail, big shaggy moose tundra, not quite ridgebacks, and bug (?) with hair. they all fit the head neck torso arms legs wings tail layout modern breeds do, it’s literally just the line breaking genes that are the issue and the customization from apparel feels better than what the terts offer anyway imho

abberations, auraboas, banescales, and undertides i understand a little more, but…

abberations literally just have two heads and two tails. you can make head and tail apparel just go on both. some people might not want that but there’s a lot of things on the site some people don’t want already so that’s kinda a moot point

auraboas, okay. they don’t have legs or anything analogous to legs. i get why they don’t wanna have a dressable dragon with no legs. i’ll accept that

banescales don’t have arms, but i feel like that’s more manageable since the wings are in the place the arms should be. i think it’s workable putting arm apparel on wings though

undertides i can understand the most. they don’t have arms or legs and the best they have in their place is tiny fins. i can live with them not being dressable

“but the terts are so cool! it would take too long to draw all the apparel for all the breeds! you’re breaking the rules!”

i don’t think the line breaking ancient genes are cool enough to justify it. i’d rather wait longer for them to draw all the apparel stuff than get something kinda mid quicker. people make fake clothing accents for ancients all the time so it’s definitely doable. hell just get creative with how the clothes lay around the line breaking terts. put the terts on a different layer so they can overlap when needed. idk

don’t get me wrong, i’m really appreciative of the art team and everyone else on staff, i just don’t think this is working as well as intended or paying off enough to justify continuing. make the terts crazier (if you can even do that within the square they’re stuck in) or just make them modern breeds <:/

edit: i don’t expect them to change existing ancients if they change anything at all. that would be an enormous backlog and frankly unreasonable. i just think going forward they should be more lenient on what is a modern breed that deserves time put into drawing apparel for them and what should be dug deeper into to make truly weird and crazy enough to justify not being able to customize them with the thousands of different apparel pieces on site when that’s like half the game

also if they’re gonna add parallel genes anyway why can’t you breed them with other ancients or moderns. if it’d result in a gene the other breed doesn’t have just make it default to basic or something

second edit: just make the weird terts some kind of apparel. no it wouldn't have the same color range as genes but looking at clothing stuff like roundhorns and antlers and feathered wings and claws and whatever else, they could make 90% of the weird tacked on line breaking terts into apparel pieces with a good variety of colors and it'd be more or less the same thing

#flight rising #flightrising #fr #if people get mad at me for this i’m gonna be severely disappointed #it’s not important enough to get mad at i’m just voicing an opinion

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probablyasocialecologist · 3 days

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TikTok was where I learned about SHEIN. For a while my For You page, which had accurately identified my interest in fashion’s more material impacts, served me videos of sustainable fashion influencers decrying SHEIN’s wretched labor and environmental practices. The textile industry is the second-largest polluter in the world, they said, and of all the fast-fashion producers, SHEIN is by far the worst offender. SHEIN uses toxic chemicals in their clothing production; SHEIN mass-produces fabrics like spandex that never decompose (at this point an image would flash across the screen: an overflowing clothing landfill, or a mountain of discarded clothes in the Chilean desert so large it is visible from space); SHEIN exploits and endangers its factory workers. Employees earn $556 a month to make five hundred pieces of clothing every day, work eighteen-hour days, and use their lunch breaks to wash their hair — a schedule they repeat seven days per week with only one day off per month. A more nuanced TikToker might point out, briefly, that conditions in SHEIN factories are not necessarily unique, or that focusing on suppliers — rather than the larger systems of Western consumption and capitalism that create these conditions — is a fool’s errand, but the platform isn’t built for that kind of dialogue. I clicked on the comments and invariably read ones with several dozen likes saying, “I’m so willing to die in shein clothes.” Before long I was watching SHEIN hauls. There are millions of them — the tag #sheinhaul has been viewed a collective 14.2 billion times on TikTok. In each haul, a woman rips open a plastic bag filled with smaller plastic bags filled with small plastic clothing. Sometimes the woman holds up each garment and narrates its merits, but often the clothes are disembodied, laid flat on a floor or a bed in an accidental stop-motion animation. A stretchy red skirt on a furry white carpet is replaced by a strapless watercolor bustier with a deep-V neckline. A zebra-print skirt is followed by a matching pink two-piece set, with a short-sleeve cardigan and miniskirt constructed from a fabric that looks like bubble wrap. Sometimes a haul is five pieces, and sometimes it is too many pieces to count. The garments appear and disappear in seconds, edited to the beat of a trending song. Rarely do we see the clothing on a body. Usually brand familiarity accrues in a slow drip, building from obscurity to instant recognizability over the course of months or years as a designer’s work intersects with the zeitgeist and gains traction on social media. SHEIN was different. One day I’d never heard of the retailer and the next it was inescapable: in thousands of outfit videos, on millions of social media feeds. The clothes weren’t distinct or cohesive; what united them wasn’t style but price. All those SHEIN hauls entered my feeds with such ubiquity that they began to feel like they’d always been there. I’d opened a door to a new part of the fashion internet: a place where girls bragged about their ultra-fast-fashion purchases, delighting in the cheapness of the garments. Here, SHEIN was the obvious choice for new clothes. Why not, when you could buy on-trend pieces at lightning speed for less than the price of a cup of coffee? It was uncanny to bounce between videos: here was a girl showing off her new halter, here was another girl giving a litany of reasons why it was unconscionable to buy clothes for so little money. Didn’t these TikTokers hear one another? But then again, how could they? “This is what we keep missing here in the whole conversation about sustainability in the industry,” Nick Anguelov, a professor of public policy from UMass Dartmouth, said to a Slate journalist writing about SHEIN in June. “We keep failing to understand that our customers are kids and they don’t give a fuck.”

#shein #fashion #fast fashion #tiktok

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milogreer · 7 hours

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so uhh this is gonna be scatterbrained. but i'm gonna ramble about milo and (what little info we have on) colm. sorry in advance if it doesn’t make sense i just had to exorcise this demon 🫡

i believe "camping with your alpha boyfriend (2021)" is the earliest mention of colm in an audio. obviously we don't actually know milo's side of things because it's told from david's POV, but we still get the mental image of little thirteen year old milo sitting shotgun in his dad's pickup as they drive to their camping spot. gabe's goofing around in the truck bed to make david and asher laugh, and colm joins in the fun by swerving the truck to mess with gabe. very basic dad thing to do, my dad's done the exact same thing to me and my siblings. it feels familiar and silly, and david frames it as a good memory, so it feels like a good memory. which is important to the point of this post

in "celebrating the new house (2022)," we get a little more colm lore:

My dad was forever blowing any cash he made on fucking bets and gambling and shit, chasing some fucking high. My mom was the only reason we didn’t end up out on the fucking street. He didn’t pull his head out of his ass and get some help until after I’d already moved out. So I never got to have that feeling of being in a house that was actually ours, ya know?

already this is a stark contrast to what we've previously heard of colm (i don't think there's any real mention of him between sept 2021 and dec 2022?) and it kinda makes me look at that old memory in a different light, especially with regards to david saying marie was "nagging [colm's] ear off about being irresponsible and a bad example." like. ykwim? like i'm just thinking about that interaction and wondering how far along those problems were at the time, if they were present at all. was this a normal, fun family outing? or would milo have rather been in the truck bed with david, asher, and gabe?

(and the fact that it wasn't until after milo moved out that colm tried getting any help?? i could make a whole other post speculating about milo struggling with wanting to move out of that environment ASAP vs not wanting to leave marie on her own to deal with colm)

so then i'm re-listening to "your werewolf boyfriend is worried about you" and having a visceral reaction to (re-)learning that colm was also an alcoholic:

But what he chose to do with that frustration and that feeling of powerlessness was not his job’s fault, those were his choices. He’s the one who decided to lose himself in booze and gambling and never being home. Never being there for the people he said he loved but apparently couldn’t stand to be around.

the last sentence especially is just an absolute heartbreaker because milo's, what, thirty now? and he's been dealing with this since he was a kid. clearly he's not on great terms with colm. the only times he ever talks about him is when he's shit talking the department. that is a crazy weight for someone to carry their whole life. i don't have experience with the gambling side but i do have an alcoholic family member who i used to be really close to as a kid but grew up to intensely resent as a result of his actions, so it hits a little close to home to see that reflected in milo

but i digress. umm. i bring up the camping story to highlight the most recent mention of colm from milo and how there were good times and sometimes maybe it hurts to remember them when the person involved devastated you as you grew up because they weren't what you thought they were. and how these things follow you through life and impact how you approach certain things. milo has to live with the fact that the same system that royally fucked colm is potentially going to do the same thing to the love of his life; i never drink more than one shot or half a beer, if i drink at all, and i don't like being around drunk people. even though we don't hear about colm very often, his influence is still there whenever milo has to deal with the department in any way

anyway i guess TLDR; imagine living the majority of your thirty years of life feeling like your dad couldn't stand to be around you because he was too busy drinking himself stupid and gambling away every penny he had as a way to deal with the strain that his job put on him. imagine having to witness your mom struggle constantly to keep you cared for. imagine the few good childhood memories you have with your dad being overshadowed by thinking he didn't love you or your mom enough to change. imagine watching the department run your soulmate into the dirt physically and mentally the same way it did your father and wanting to be supportive of them but also being so worried for them. it's a really interesting situation for him to be in and i enjoy it but it hurts me. the end

#one thing about me is that i will gravitate towards characters with alcoholic family members whether i know it or not #redacted audio #redacted asmr #milo greer #sweetheart.txt #milo #colm

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idontplaytrack · 3 days

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Hello, I've been reading your fics since I found them recently and I love your writing sm!! I've been wanting to request some smut for AJ Campos, maybe with a strap, possibly during that track race where instead of Paige, AJ is rooming with reader instead at the hotel

Watch You Sleep

AJ Campos x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Oral, fingering, toy use, pet names. Coarse language, drinking

In which reader’s had a lack of sleep lately and when finally alone with her in a room at an away meet, AJ gets creative

“Are you nervous?” AJ asks you quietly, a hand on your thigh.

“Coach says I’d better perform better today otherwise we can say goodbye to placing. How’d Paige get better than me?” You were looking out the window while the bus was driving to the destination.

“Excuse me?” She turned around, startling you.

“I was just saying how you’ve become better than I am at track. Maybe I should quit.”

“What? Ay, no, no, no.” Dylan chimed in, “You love track.”

“Things change, Dylan.” You exhaled harshly.

“Oh.” Paige’s face fell.

“Yeah, oh.” You snapped, “I haven’t been able to sleep in over a week. I cannot wait for this to be over. I’ve got other things to worry about.”

“Like what?”

“Are we not in the same classes, Evans? We have two essays due in two weeks.”

You wished Paige wasn’t sitting so close by…just a couple days ago, she asked AJ out right in front of you.

AJ looked at you, concerned. “Okay, you guys.” AJ shooed them away, “Return to your own conversation.”

For the rest of the drive, you laid your head on AJ’s shoulder while eating the bag of gummy bears that you brought along. And all throughout the ride, you kept feeling eyes on you. And not from AJ- Paige. You looked away, staring out the window now.

“Girl, what the fuck are you doing? Stop being creepy.” Dylan huffed.

Once at the hotel, all the students started pairing up with their roommates according to Coach Murray’s list and went to their rooms. And you? You were supposed to be with Gabi but AJ asked to swap. “Thanks, Gabs.”

“No worries.” Gabi smiled.

AJ quickly takes you into the room, shutting and locking the door behind yourselves, “Are we going to the party?”

“Yes.” AJ decided, “They would definitely play a drinking game and it would be a great way to make it clear to Paige that I’m not interested,”

“Isn’t it random? Like, don’t they just draw phones out of a pile or something?”

“I was thinking more like we…get tipsy and just kiss in front of her.” AJ chuckles. You snorted, “Please. Knowing how fucking gutsy she is, she might actually shove me to the ground. Then, she’d kiss you.”

“There’ll be witnesses.” AJ points out.

“Yeah, a bunch of drunk teens staying up past lights out is real reliable.” You laughed.

“Then we should just…post something? Announce we’re together?” AJ stifles a laugh.

You shrug, “I dunno.”

“We don’t have to go to that party, you know?” She says, “I would honestly much rather just spend some time alone with you.”

“Oh, yeah? And do what?” You ask. “Never mind, we’ll go to their ‘party’ first. You’re right- it’s the perfect place to let her know. There are other students around- so if she pulls any crazy shit? Witnesses.”

After unpacking, you and AJ decided to head out for dinner at the diner down the block. “God, I’m so tired. Why is she everywhere?”

“Tired, tired or because-” AJ says, but you cut her off.

“Both.” You deadpan. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Okay.” She shrugged, the two of you went further down the block to a pizza place. But not before Paige saw you and AJ leaving- the girl did not look happy.

————

Later that night, you and AJ were in Stacey’s room to party with the rest of the team. “Oh, good. You guys are here!” Stacey gasped, “Come in, come in.”

The kicked the night right off with ‘seven minutes in the hotel bathroom’. The rounds went by rapidly and you weren’t even just a little bit hopeful that you and AJ’s phones would get drawn out of the pillow case for a round together. “y/n, you’re up.” Dylan showed your phone to the group. You looked at him then at Paige who was beside him. “Aaaand, AJ, this is your phone, right? Oh, yup. That’s y/n’s face right there. You’re up- chop chop.” The group started chattering about how surprised they were that AJ had been seeing someone all this time. Contented, you grabbed AJ’s hand, stood up and got shoved into the bathroom by Dylan and Stacey. “Timer starts once the door closes!” Dylan exclaimed.

“Did you see that look on her face?” AJ laughs, grabbing your face to kiss you.

You nod, “Oh, we’re doing that here?” You broke away from the kiss briefly.

“Of course- we’re gonna really give them a show.” AJ grins.

“Oh, hell no.” You gasped, “I am not going to purposely-” And just like that, your train of thought was gone as she kisses you even deeper, her lips trailing down your jaw and to your neck which easily draws out a moan. AJ chuckles, her breath tickles your neck making you squirm.

“To be fair she’s been purposely being a little bitch to you.” AJ raised a brow, “I doubt she couldn’t tell we have something going on at least.”

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me.” You exhaled, your hands began roaming her back, but she lifts you up to sit on the countertop. Without even taking your shorts off, she pushes the fabric of it, and your underwear aside, “Do you feel ready?”

“What?” You asked, confused for a second, “Yeah. Sure.”

AJ dips a finger into your folds, gliding it up and down, proving your point, “Of course you are.” Pushing it easily into your entrance, she quickly gains a momentum, not wanting to waste a single second of this quote-unquote ‘mandated’ make-out time. She grins, licking her lips as she watches your face contort, “Baby, you’re acting like I don’t eat you out every other night.” That smirk on your face made you feel you didn’t know what to do with yourself, feeling a strangled yelp in your throat.

“Now you get shy?” She caresses your cheek with her free hand, her fingers ram into you to force a moan out of your mouth. Successfully.

“Fuck!” You whispered-shouted into her ear, “Fuck you. Oh, God.”

“Feisty.” She bit down on your neck, and you whimpered. AJ removes her fingers from you and started to kiss your face again.

“Time’s up! Get outta there.” Stacey knocks.

“You wanna go back?” AJ asks, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Definitely.” You gave her one last kiss before straightening yourself up quickly then swung the door open.

“We’re gonna- go.” AJ stood behind you, a hand on your shoulder. “Message received. Good night- maybe you can finally get some sleep, y/n.” Dylan commented, earning a smack from his girlfriend. “Well, it’s true- she’s barely been sleeping lately.” Dylan reasoned.

“Good night, guys.” Stacey waved.

————

“Give me a minute- I just gotta get some from my bag.” She tells you while you plopped down on the bed. “Okay.” You responded while lying down. “They’re right- you haven’t been getting any good sleep recently.” AJ spoke up. “Yeah, well? I’ve beeb too stressed about performing well at the meet tomorrow.”

“It’s a 2pm- so we have plenty of time to get you some sleep.” She says, “Also- this might help.”

“What- oh, jesus fucking christ. How did you get that damn thing- okay, you know what? I’m not even gonna ask.” You eyes widened in shock when you turned onto your side and saw AJ putting on that harness.

“Thought you might need more to actually tire you out. And you’d probably wake up refreshed if you get some uninterrupted sleep- so you could actually perform better than Paige does.” She shrugs nonchalantly- as if she wasn’t going to impale you in the matter of minutes. “Think you can help yourself onto it?”

Her question snaps you out of your trance, “Okay.”

She chuckles, “If you say so.” AJ then laid down, waiting for you to straddle her. “Face me, okay?” You didn’t say anything else but just followed her order, legs bracketing either side of her as you knelt and positioned yourself to ease that shaft inside. AJ reflexively grabs your hips, giving you the support. “You okay, baby?” She watches you closely to make sure you weren’t in pain. You’d gotten yourself about halfway in, but you decided to get a rhythm going in order to make the rest of it easier.

“Baby?” She asks again.

“I’m okay, AJ.” You confirmed, biting your lower lip as you got used to the stretch. Watching her bare body, as she does yours, you felt yourself slipping further in by the minute. And with her words of encouragement, and a little push, you took the whole length. It was now poking you in the g-spot every time you came back down, making the moans fly put from your move every time.

“So pretty.” Her hands trailed upwards, kneading your breasts after unclipping your bra and tossing it aside, “You’re so pretty, my girl. Come on, give me a kiss, baby.” You leaned down, crashing her lips onto yours, content to be like this for awhile. She instinctively cups your cheeks with both hands, stroking them with her thumb. The kisses progress got heated, aiding in your little task of riding the strap. She was loving watching you and seeing your tits move along with your actions. That grin on her face? She was more than satisfied with your ability to take it. She pushes you off of her, you whine not liking the sudden emptiness. “Lay down, baby.” She pushes you down gently, her hands massaging your thighs. You complied, soon feeling her teasing you with the tip of the shaft. You squirmed, unable to keep your mouth shut. So she does- AJ crawled up to attack you with kisses, trailing down from your face all the way to your core. But of course, the lower she went, the louder you became. “You know I love hearing you, baby. Don’t hold back.” She says, her breath fanning against the juncture between your legs. “The walls are so thin.” You grumbled, “Do you not hear that?”

“So what? This whole level’s our team.” AJ shrugs, “Oh, my God- is that coach-”

“Don’t put that image in my head.” You interjected, laughing, “AJ, please.” Your hands grabbed her hair, pushing her closer to you.

“M’kay.” She grins, her tongue begins to circle your clit slowly. It made you seethe, trying to swallow the whine that was threatening to fall from your lips. “I want to hear you, babe. It’s alright.” She coos, barely breaking away long enough to speak.

You back arched more and more by the minute, and naturally, the faster she flicked her tongue, the more of a mess you were. And finally, the coil in your core started tightening, taking the place of the fluttering sensation. AJ asks if you were close, and you hadn’t even said a thing since many minutes ago- but instead your endless, whines, whimpers and moans have filled the room making AJ more eager to push you over the edge.

You could definitely feel yourself getting closer to the high, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you. “My God. I’m so close.” You told her in a strained voice. She licks your clit one time before pulling away, much to your annoyance. “I got you, honey.” AJ grins, licking her lips to taste you, “Keep your legs open, we’re nowhere near done.”

You whined needily, feeling the ache and pulsing of your apex becoming increasingly unbearable by the second as she deprived you of the contact and stimulation- to the point where you were about to burst into tears because it was becoming too much to bear. As AJ pushes into you, she held her forearm under both your knees to keep your legs in place. And every single time she pounded into you, a sharp moan attacked her eardrums, sending shocks down her spine. “Keep going, keep going…fuck!” Your breath hitches as she retracts and pushes into you the hardest she’s had that night. Her pace became merciless as you felt the wetness dripping down you, the obscene sound from between your legs made you dizzy as did the pleasure from her fucking you with the strap. Her forearm moves away, she tells you to keep your legs in place. And, she looks right into your eyes as she continues to impale you repeatedly while profanities and high-pitched moans spewed from your mouth in an unending string. “Ah- ah! Fuck.” You cursed. AJ grins, watching you with pride as you looked back at her with hooded eyes that soon rolled to the back of your head. AJ kept going and going, watching your face at first. Then your body started trembling so she reflexively slowed down. “Oh, my God.” You cried, “Holy shit, oh my God. AJ, fuck. That feels so good, babe. Oh-”She was now holding onto one leg as she went at a languish pace to help you ride through your high. The pleasure slowly turned into a slight ache as overstimulation took over. You told her to stop and she pulls out, admiring the aftermath in the process.

She removes the harness and abandoned it. You hear it fall to the floor with a thud before she crawls into bed with you. “Hi, baby.” She cups your cheek, kissing you on the nose, “Do you feel okay?” You nodded silently, laying your head on her chest as her embrace tightens. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?” AJ asks.

“I’m a little sore, but it’ll be okay.” You admit.

AJ nods, “Think you can sleep?” She runs a hand through your hair, pressing yet another kiss onto your face.

“Mhm.” You snuggled closer, allowing her heartbeat and her warmth to lull you to sleep.

“Good night, my love.” AJ exhales softly, watching your sleepy figure in her arms, “Sweet dreams.”

#auli’i cravalho #aj campos #crush #crush hulu #reader insert #x reader #female reader #lgbtqia #queer #wlw #wlw fanfic #romance #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw #drama #wlw fluff #wlw angst #queer fiction

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fierceawakening · 14 hours

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I feel a bit afraid to even post this, for fear of someone else lashing out at me for questioning received wisdom but I still kind of feel like people are so invested in explaining their point of view (which I’m already saying is valid) that they’re missing part of mine

And that is that for me, part of my trauma is that I was both physically violated AND physically altered. And also I’m afab, and very often girls and women bear the brunt of purity culture in ways men and boys… definitely can but I’m not sure they always do.

And what purity culture says to little girls is that their worth is in their… well purity. Their innocence. That’s what’s beautiful and lovable about them.

So what happened to me… at least as I experienced it, I felt it stole my innocence. Destroyed my purity. I was still a virgin, but I’d kept a tight lid on any interest in anything dark or sinister or anything like that (and it turned out there was a lot to keep a lid on.)

After my trauma I was so angry and disillusioned I couldn’t do that any more. I got angry. I got cynical. I got bitter.

Which is all understandable. But here’s the kicker: I felt bad about it. Like a monster. Damaged and broken.

I kept getting diagnoses of situational depression. I’d get talk therapy until I felt a little better and then it would end and I’d need it again, later, like clockwork. It didn’t dawn on me that this indicated a chronic problem, not clearly enough for me to say “let’s look at diagnoses that include recurrence.”

In grad school, I read the book Trauma and Recovery which is an in depth look at PTSD, mostly as suffered by women who were raped or sexually abused.

In it, the women described my deep feelings of having been defiled so well it was eerie. They talked about feeling like there was dirt or oil or mud or sludge way down in their soul, where they couldn’t remove it.

That it made them fundamentally unclean in ways other people weren’t. Dirtied deep down, in ways that would forever separate them from other people who hadn’t been polluted.

Which is how I felt and still feel when things get bad, and what makes me feel suicidal. I can never be clean again, so I’m fundamentally unworthy, so I need to die and get it over with already.

Trying to frame it as that I’m still clean, or that the dirty one is the perpetrator(s), may work for other people, and I wish them the best. But trying to reframe it that way has never worked for me personally. As I said my body is literally altered surgically. I can’t avoid that something changed.

So what has worked to help me feel less like I don’t deserve to live?

Seeing the new thing that was created as worthwhile rather than poisoned.

Because of that, I get a lot of reassurance out of monster stories, especially ones where the monster isn’t fundamentally evil, just threatened and lashing out, or confused, or a child that doesn’t know its own strength or the like.

Which overlaps A LOT with “what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”

It’s not quite the same but it’s a cousin concept, a sibling. “You tried to kill me. You really should have finished the job.”

So when I see people say “don’t tell me I’m stronger now, I get to be the judge of that thank you very much,” that version I get.

But when I see “the idea that I’m stronger now is bullshit, all I did was break,” that one twigs me.

Because it pulls me back to the broken doll oozing ichor. Nothing new came out of this. Nothing brave. That’s just a demon trying to justify continuing to exist, when deep down it knows all it is is pollution.

I make these posts not to tell people that they need to see themselves as stronger. I don’t know how they should heal. They know that.

I make them to remind people that there are a lot of different ways to reconstruct a self, and that it’s easy to overstep if you generalize too much.

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smidgen-of-hotboy · 3 days

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Our Angel of Brahma, pt. ix

Travelers. Friends. Mutuals. @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @ananxiousgenz @the-private-eye @demonic-panini @gwenlena

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING BEGINS. MOTHERLY VOICE: I finally got a moment to myself thanks to Eber and Camilla… Thank the Goddess… I don’t know what I would be doing without them. (THE PERSON SIGHS) Where do I begin? I guess… my name would be a good start. (CLEARING THEIR THROAT) My name is Eevee Bell, and I am one of three to four dozen Dome Wardens on Brahma. Our duty is to perform routine maintenance on the planet’s Dome, track incoming and outgoing shuttles and ships, and monitor Brahma’s severe weather outside the Dome. I love my job. I think I do my job very well. From what I’ve heard about other planets, they have robotics and computers to do this job now. Artificial intelligence that the Solar Planets spent a fortune to perfect. Of course just like with everything else though, Brahma gets left behind in the dust. (EEVEE CHUCKLES UNDER HER BREATH) EEVEE: Goddess bless our savior New Kinshasa. (EEVEE LAUGHS A BIT HARSHER) EEVEE: What happened to us though has been brewing under their noses for some time now. I guess it was only a matter of time before… something was done. To be honest I’m still not entirely sure what did happen. I know that our alarms went off when the Reactor Core was removed, and I know they stopped going off when the Core was put back. I know that the Chief Constable called all of our stations, and ordered us to go home. I know that we have not gone back to our stations for nearly ten days. I know that if we don’t accept any imports within the next seven days Brahma will begin to suffer. And if we fall, New Kinshasa falls with us. Cyrus called me while I was rushing to get home to Baird. He asked me how much I knew and after I told him, I asked how much he knew. He said it would be better if he came to speak to me in person. He lives across town with Iris. I told him it wouldn’t be wise to meet up so late, especially with a curfew in place. He disagreed, but I talked enough sense into him that he waited until morning to catch a tram over here to the apartments. Baird was not enthused to see him. He was rather… indifferent, actually. I know it hurt Cyrus’ feelings, I do plan on talking about it with Baird when I can, but it’s so hard to talk about anything seriously right now. I’d rather keep things as light-hearted as possible. I sent Baird over to Camilla and Eber’s apartment while I had tea with Cyrus. He looked so worried. He asked me if I saw the Chief Constable’s broadcast about the Revolutionary, Peter Nureyev. I have. I watched it with Baird the night before after I got home from my post. Cyrus said that he doesn’t know of any Peter Nureyevs in any of his revolution circles. He surprised me by asking me for my thoughts about the Constable they allegedly found murdered by the Revolutionary. I didn’t at the time, and I still don’t now. Cyrus said that he has reason to believe that part was a lie. He doesn’t believe the Revolutionary killed a Constable. He thinks it might be an elaborate lie or cover-up for some more vain truth. (EEVEE INHALES SHARPLY) The revolutionaries are holding a meeting tonight. Cyrus invited me to come. He wants me there. I don’t want to get in trouble, but… I need to keep Cyrus and Baird safe. And by extension, it’s my job to keep Brahma safe. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS: EEVEE: What the fuck! NEW VOICE: What are you doing? EEVEE: What am I doing I’m recording you idiot! Cyrus, don’t you see? If what was discussed tonight has any truth to it, New Kinshasa isn’t going to let any of this get out. More than– I bet you my next paycheck that Dark Matters is going to play a role in covering it all up! (CYRUS TRIES TO SHUSH EEVEE) CYRUS: Alright, alright– you have a point. Keep your voice down alright the streets have ears… You really hope your little comms though is going to play a role in– This? EEVEE: Mark my word, I think my little comms will outlive both of us. If Baird’s lucky it will outlive them. (CYRUS GROANS. EEVEE GIGGLES) Okay, okay… I attended the meeting– CYRUS: The book club. We went to a late-night book club meeting. What? Don’t give me that look. Plausible deniability, Eve. EEVEE: Right. The Book Club. We attended Book Club and talked about the climax of a war story. In the story, the main character kills a man with radical ideas to overthrow their government. The man he killed was not popular amongst the rebels. In theory, they should have agreed with him. CYRUS: In practice, however, the rebels do not condone murdering hundreds of thousands of people. Thus the whole unpopular amongst the rebels. EEVEE: Of course, word got out about the man’s death, and to cover it up, the government claimed him as an Enforcer. And they were getting away with it because the last clothes the man was found in was a stolen Enforcer uniform. I don’t know if I believe the rebel or the government’s of the story– CYRUS: Eve– EEVEE: But! But. But I do believe that it was the right call for the rebels to sit back and wait for information to trickle out to them slowly… I think I’ll need to attend the next meeting to really make sure I understand what I’m getting myself into. Oh– I’m so tired. Can we discuss all this in the morning? With hopefully less ears listening in? (CYRUS HUMS AFFIRMATIVELY) CYRUS: I’ll even let you sleep in if you let me crash on your couch. EEVEE: Of course, I wouldn’t make you walk across town while already breaking our curfew. CYRUS: Thanks, Eve. (LONG PAUSE) Baird’s not going to be mad to see me, is he? EEVEE: This late at night? I doubt it. If anything he’s staying over at that Spade’s apartment probably fast asleep with Charlie. Oh, they’re so sweet together. I went to say good night to them one evening and I couldn’t kiss Baird’s head because Charlie had a death grip on his shoulders. He's always polite and entertains all of Baird’s whims… I wish you were around more to see it happen. CYRUS: You and I both know why that can’t happen. (BOTH OF THEM SIGH) EEVEE: You know he’s only so pouty around you because you and I split up, right? He just wants us all together again. Like a proper family. CYRUS: We are a proper family. Mom who works too hard, dad who left to get milk and never came back– see? Proper family. (EEVEE LAUGHS CAUSING CYRUS TO LAUGH) UNFAMILIAR VOICE: Hey, state your business and show your credentials. CYRUS: Shit, Constables. Run Eve! SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. RECORDING BEGINS. (EEVEE WHISPERS) EEVEE: Cyrus and I got away from the Constables last week perfectly fine. This week on Brahma: we went to another revolution meeting. A few old timers took roll call and one of them said he had reason to believe that the person the Angel of Brahma killed was one of theirs. A man who wasn’t the least bit popular in any particular revolutionary circle. Apparently, he wanted to drop New Kinshasa out of the sky and saw it perfectly fit to kill all of Brahma in the process. (EEVEE SCOFFS) The nerve of some people. No one at the meeting could remember his name though, and no one still knows who Peter Nureyev is outside of the photos projected on every billboard on the planet now. He looks so young. Those dark and haunting eyes and sharp teeth. I find it hard to believe that he’s just a teenager. But– he is. I’m trying to keep my voice down right now because Baird is asleep. The meeting was held before curfew this time so Cyrus went home to Iris and I walked alone back to the apartment. Eber was waiting for me just outside and before I could say hello he was dragging me down the halls to Hank’s apartment. His dog Missy was sprawled out on the sofa but Hank, Camilla, and Josie were all gathered around the dinner table. Mrs. Darius was upstairs with Talia, Charlie, and Baird. I sat down and told them everything I could. The revolutionaries wouldn’t let me record anything with my comms during the meeting, but there wasn’t much that I think needed to be recorded. Just talk about who was storing what, who was leaving their doors open to help others. There was a lot of talk about going on strike. Either food or labor. They want to send a message to New Kinshasa. I don’t think I can afford to do much of anything. Me and the other Dome Wardens just went back to work two days ago, we are working through a backlog of off-planet imports and exports still. If I strike alone I’ll just be fired. If all the Wardens strike, then the Constables will take over and that will lead to certain catastrophe. And if I stop eating then Baird will stop eating and he’s already so… short. Oh– I wish I got a chance to talk to Cyrus before we went our separate ways. He’d help me think of some way I can help. Better yet, he’d probably be able to give the others here at the apartments the answers they wanted from me. Hank didn’t say anything other than telling us to get out. Eber, Camilla, Josie, and I were silent on the walk upstairs. The kids were delighted to see us. Eber walked Talia back down to Hank, Josie was trying to fill in Mrs. Darius, and Camilla and I watched the boys play some sort of game where they kept pinching each other and trying to not shriek? I think that was the objective? Children’s games used to be much less violent when I was that age. I remember when– BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Memma? EEVEE: Bairdy! What are you doing awake? BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): I couldn’t sleep. You were being too loud. (EEVEE TSKS) EEVEE: Then let’s put you back to bed alright baby? C’mon. I’ll even sing for you if you’d like. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS. EEVEE: I have either made the best decision of the revolution that will turn the tides in favor of Brahma, or the worst mistake of my life. I told the old-timers at this past meeting that I work as a Dome Warden, and that a few of my colleagues seemed interested in joining the rebellion but were uncertain on how to go about it. The old-timers were delighted for a number of reasons and had drawn the same conclusion that I had a few weeks ago when a labor strike was first brought up. They think it would be very good if I was able to get some of the other Wardens on board with the revolution. Cyrus was very quiet during the meeting. I asked him before we left if he had any opinions he was holding back, and all he said was to trust my gut. So… I trusted my gut. I told the other Wardens at my post about the meetings. I told them about going on strike. A few seemed skeptical. Others wanted to know when the next meeting was. I’m going to contact Cyrus and get him to help me get the others to the next meeting. I hope… this wasn’t a mistake. I guess time will only tell. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS. EEVEE: –you turned it on. Good job, baby. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Mom, why are you showing me how to use your comms? Is something going to happen to us? Is something bad going to happen to you? EEVEE: What? Oh no, baby. Nothing is going to happen to me. I just think you would find more use out of my comms than I would. Look, since you got it to record you can start recording all those little songs you like to sing. Or maybe you can get Charlie to record a story for you. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): But Mom, I like your singing and your stories more. Will you sing for me? And tell me a story tonight? EEVEE: Absolutely not. You get one or the other. Take your pick. And whatever you don’t choose, you have to give to me. (BAIRD POUTS) BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Fine… I want a story from you, and then I’ll give you a song. EEVEE: Good choice, Bairdy. What kind of story would you like? (BAIRD HUMS) BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): I want a story about Brahma. EEVEE: A story about Brahma? Well… there once was a boy born on Brahma with nothing. Not even a name. He grew up just like everyone else, hungry for more. More food, more freedom, more time. The boy followed a man who dreamed of dropping the New Kinshasa on top of the planet. The boy was very tired. Tired of being poor, tired of being hungry, tired of being alone. But he knew, that if he let that man drop New Kinshasa out of the sky, he would never be able to forgive himself. Brahma is his home. He looked down at Brahma from up high, and saw them: his people. Starving young faces just like his looked up to the sky and stared back at the city as it trembled. The boy had the power at his fingertips to stop a tragedy. This is it. The people thought. This is how we go out. Not with the big bang, but crushed under the heel of our jailor. The boy heard their thoughts. He felt a rush of adrenaline and stopped the man from getting away. The city of New Kinshasa never fell out of the sky that day. The people were ordered to retreat to their homes. But that evening, everyone heard about the great threat against the Guardian Angel System. And everyone learned the name Peter Nureyev. And for the first time in the last half-century, hope bloomed on Brahma. The Boy, The Legend, The Angel of Brahma. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): That’s not a story Memma, that’s history. EEVEE: And what is history but a story we have to learn from? Now, I believe you owe me a song. (BAIRD GROANS AND HUFFS) BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Fine… (BAIRD TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND HUMS. THE SOUND GETS CLEARER LIKE HE’S BROUGHT THE COMMS CLOSER) My angel, I must ask you keep singing for me. How sweet your tune, like a songbird at noon. What a lovely trill, it makes me feel ill. O’ My heart overflows, I could never let go. Like chimes in the wind, it must be destined. I’ll find my way home, with your voice I’ll never be alone. Happy? (EEVEE SNIFFLES) EEVEE: Very. Thank you, Baird. That was beautiful. (FABRIC RUSTLES, BOTH BAIRD AND EEVEE HUM) Promise me you’ll never stop singing baby. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Of course, Memma. I don’t think I could even if I tried. EEVEE: Good. Now– (EEVEE PRESSES A KISS TO BAIRD’S HEAD) Get some sleep. Okay? We have a long day tomorrow. And Bairdy? BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Yes, Mom? EEVEE: You know that I love you, right? BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): To the moons and back, yeah… Mom you promised nothing bad was going to happen to you. EEVEE: And nothing will. Good night, Baird. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Night Mom. SOUND: DOOR CLOSING. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Which button was it to end the recording? Was it this o– SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

- EEVEE BELL. BAIRD BELL. must contact Frannie’s friend about both of those names. - Dome Wardens are indeed an old, out of date job. Eve is right, they’ve been replaced with robots. It’s actually kinda scary how right she was about things. About that, about Dark Matters probably covering everything up with New Kinshasa. - Cyrus and Eve sound so fun together. I can see why they got married and had a kid together. - Bairdy and Memma… right up there with Charls and Dearest. - Oh Baird, he was 12 when these recordings were made. 12. Just almost a teenager, not quite. Almost too old to be called a baby. - Eve loved Baird so much. She reminds me of my mother a bit. And she knew exactly what she was doing tucking Baird into bed that final time. There’s no doubt in my mind this is the last recording with her in it. She was taken away after this and never came back. The Dome Wardens did go on strike at some point according to Baird in other recordings, so did someone snitch to a Constable? Did she the Constable that almost caught her and Cyrus track her down? - I think that’s the most frustrating part of my job. No matter how much I dig and research, there are some things that will be lost to me forever.

#at some point this was like pulling teeth #so i may revisit it and rewrite some of it #or elaborate/add more #BUT im happy rn #funfact: the story eve tells is almost word for word what i wrote on buzzkillgirls post #about nureyev the legend vs nureyev the man #our angel of brahma #the penumbra podcast #private eye's keys go jingle jangle #the penumbra fanfic #a hotboy's writing #FUCKGING BIRDS NEED TO SHUT UP NOW SO I CAN SLEEP-

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magical-xirl-4 · 9 months

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the way that i truly am just non-binary still... idk, surprises me? like, i forget that i am, so i have to remind myself that while i am trans, i'm not a man. at the same time, i'm not a woman. i'm just floating out as something else. something totally new.

but that's why it's so hard for me to affirm myself. there is no exact language to describe me that truly encapsulates my experiences. there's very little representation about what it means to be non-binary. it's why i think about it so much, it's why i fixate on it.

the world is extremely binary, and it's influence over my thoughts is still very strong, despite my gender identity.

it can be lonely. it can be confusing.

my bodily dysphoria is so strong but my social dysphoria is ten fold. to a vast majority of people they will never see me as non-binary no matter how many times i say it, and that haunts me.

i know not everyone will be able to instantly see me as my true self wherever i go and whoever i talk to, but the two binary genders are something that we are innately trained to recognise.

if a person recognises me as 1 or 2 and never 3 instantly, it feels. wrong.

why can't you see me as that? no matter how hard i try; why?

maybe HRT and top surgery will get me there, maybe, hopefully, one day. i want to be seen as androgynous, ambigious, first and foremost. someone who perfectly toes the line of masculinity and femininity. i feel like i am that as a person already but i just want people to be able to see that as soon as they see me.

but ultimately what i truly want is reformation of society. i want- no, need, trans acceptance, and abolishment of gender roles and heteropatriarchy. it's the only way i'll ever be able to thrive and feel comfortable. it's easy for you to people to see man and woman, but i wish it were different. i wish it were more that that.

i still haven't changed my name legally, or moved away from my family, so i'd say i'm in the worst of it. i'm just barely getting enough air to breathe. when i change my name, when i move out, when i go on HRT and get top surgery i will feel better.

but those systems put in place to hold up cisheteronormativity will still exist. i'm not sure how i will feel once i'm up to that point. i'll definitely have more air to breathe. but i can't even picture it right now. i'm still looking up from the well. why do i still have to endure more darkness once i'm fully free to be me?

i really hope for a day where that well won't exist and we'll be able to be on equal level a plain and open field. where we'll get to sit next to each other in the warm gaze of the sun, feeling loved, safe, protected and cared for. where we don't have to fight to exist and feel like ourselves. no conflict, no fighting, no hardship. just ourselves and the purity of it.

#non-binary #nonbinary #ugh. fucking. vent #dysphoria #i think what i also need to get over is my insecurity over being non-binary #specifically. feminine non-binary. it's still a whole process #because i experience such intense dysphoria over being percieved as female i want to just be so separate to any femininity #which is why i think 'maybe i'm just a trans man'#no. i know i'm not. my dysphoria is just so intense #i think when i pass as something other than female and i move out i'll feel a lot better about being non-binary #point is: i am definitely non-binary. i'm just extremely averse to being percieved as female while being feminine #WHICH IS A WHOLE OTHER BAG OF WORMS #I LIKE BEING FEMININE. IT'S WHO I AM. SO IS MY MASCULINITY #DOESN'T MEAN I AM A WOMAN OR A MAN THOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!#abolish gender roles rn i am SO serious #an aside: I’d rather we just not attribute gender or fem/masc to anything at all. please. just see me as me. not as a gender or signifiers

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sualne · 10 months

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been looking for jobs for three years and in the past two months ish I’ve gotten for the first time my first job interview and for a different job my first job essay.

(I did have an actual job as a comic colorist for like six months but nobody around me considered it a Real Job so I feel like I just never have a job even though I very much did.)

and each time, during the interview where I know realise I was kind of being explained the whole time why I wouldn’t get the job and at the end of the essay(which might not be the right word, like a day we’re your try out the job to see if you can do it) one of the reasons given why I wouldn’t be taken it was ‘we need people who can smile’.

(there were actual argument like being ‘too introverted’ and ‘not dynamic enough’. That last one is funny because i had another ‘almost pass out for no reasons’ moment right for break time (genuinely perfect timing) during the essay and while I was cold sweating and going blind on the bathroom floor I realised, if anyone ever know I have health issues I will never get a job. So being told I wasn’t dynamic enough a fourty something minutes later was straight up comedic).

Back to the smiling, my entire life since I was a literal baby I’ve been told I wasn’t expressing the Right Way. ‘If you feel a specific way you Have to emote this specific way, act this specific way and not do anything else otherwise you’re not actually feeling what you say you’re feeling, it means you’re actually lying, faking it or don’t know what you’re actually feeling because your not showing it the Right Way’ and obviously I’ve dismissed this my entire life because I was sure it was obvious and everyone knew that everyone exist differently and people don’t act the same. I kind of assume everyone that ever bothered me about it was some flavor of 1 having a day and decided to being weird about it to me or anyone else that was also not existing the correct way. 2 just kind of an asshole and therefor they’re opinion didn’t matter. 3 just kind of strange about thing and so be it, ´not my problem tho’ I thought.

But seeing how it’s an actual argument people have use twice now to refuse me a job I’m kind of being thinking, it might actually, for real, be a thing people actually are worried about, actually. Which is wild, but also make sense because people have very much for my whole life, to me and to a ton of strangers, made comments on folks not existing the proper way. Like how in horror someone being slightly off, slightly wrong, a little bit not how it usual should be is the trope of all time. And I love this trope, someone who’s voice is in differed from how they mouth work, someone who seems to not walk directly on the floor but just slightly above it. It’s fun and interesting.

Anyway, real life stuff, being told I’m not smiling enough is wild, like yeah I don’t smile much at all that’s a fact, and both job were about interacting with people and every time you go to a restaurant you’ll ear someone saying out of nowhere mean thing about people who work there. Insane things like ‘I don’t like the way they’re standing’ and over analysing someone expression and body languages when they’re literally just doing their job.

This post is kind of a mess but I had a point which was, I don’t understand people and why are so many mean for no reasons but I wanted it to sound less like a kid complaining and be more verbose about it.

And (this isn’t over yet) I did force myself to smile, like I very much did, I tried my best to be as pleasant and polite as possible. And being told again, this isn’t enough, just suck. Like I have to mask and hide and deal with so much I kind of expected that of all thing I was allowed to keep my face. Like people have bothered me about it my entire life and I’ve dismissed it my entire life because it just did not make sense and I couldn’t make it make sense(still can’t). But I’m genuinely at lost at what to do about it, if apparently I also have to change my face to get a job, that I need to exist the correct way in order to have the damn job in order to exist at all is all so, Not Good.

#long post #Im not proof reading this becaus I’ll miss typos either way but yeah been having a bit of a I guess more A Confusion rather than a crisis #but like. yeah. confusion yknow. sending resume all the time. rarely every getting a response and when you do it’s a automotic ‘you’re not #profile we want’ or ‘the employer has move on in the process’ of whatever. so the two time I actually got as for as actually going to #places to talk to people feels both like a huge progress and ?? adjective for what in the world can I do about all this #and like I said i did have a job and k was so happy because it was working on comic and I was ‘oh I’m doing my dream job I’m doing it’ but I #haven’t been able to find anything since. and no one think of it as an actual job and people keep treating my like an helpless child. like #I’ve been told I’m not allowed to stay home alone for a few days even though I’m 23 so I just. wtf at this point yknow.#edit: hehhhh fuck it let’s make this reblogable. his do talk deal with The Everrginf actually. I’d like to ear about it. nothing I can do #how do y’all deal with The Everything***#but keep sending resumes and wait.

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