#i have a few more i don’t think i’ve shared that i might post today also…

[thelivingend]

it’s their day <3

#i have a few more i don’t think i’ve shared that i might post today also… #my photos #yes i’m in cst so it’s not even the 9th here. who cares.

[much-ado-about-whumping]

Help for when you’re having a rough time

(If you're looking for my old pinned post with my whump masterlists, you can find it here.)

In light of some deeply sad news in the whump community today, I’m thinking about how many of us here struggle with mental health, sometimes including physical or mental self-harm and suicidality. Since I know lots of folks might be having a hard time right now, I wanted to share some resources that have helped me in rough moments. Please feel free to add on to this post (or make your own, if you want!) with the resources that have worked for you. 

First, a note:

Trauma, shame, and suicidality all tend to isolate - they make us feel like we’re all alone in the world, like no one else would understand us, and like the only solutions we have available to us are ones we can think of all by ourselves. In my experience, the antidote to that is connection. If you’re feeling scared or alone, you can hop into my asks or DMs if you want. I’m sure there are other folks in this community who would offer that, too. Many of us have grappled with mental health struggles, including suicidal ideation, and sometimes we can offer each other the care that can be hard to offer ourselves. Don’t be afraid to reach out if you need support.

A quick note about location: I live in the US, but about half the resources in this post are written guides you can access from anywhere. The hotlines and warmlines linked below are US-based. One or two are accessible in Canada or have an online chat or moderated forum that could be accessed anywhere. If you have good local resources from another place, please reblog and add them! (Thank you, @straight-to-the-pain, for flagging this in the notes!)

That said, here’s my absolute first recommendation if you’re feeling generally awful and don’t know what to do:

1. You Feel Like Shit (also available at its original site here)

If you’ve read a lot of ~self care tips~ in your life (and if you’re a bit of a salty bitch like me), you might be sick of being told to eat something and take a nap. (I don’t think we can hydrate our way out of long-term trauma and late-stage capitalistic hell, but thanks.) That said, I’ve found this site REALLY helpful. Personally, I have ADHD and CPTSD, a combination that makes it ROUGH for me to know how to take care of myself sometimes. This site speaks to you calmly, like a non-judgemental friend, and walks you through steps that you might struggle with if you have a hard time with executive function in general, or if you’re ill, grieving, overwhelmed, or otherwise just off your game. I pretty much always walk away feeling at least a little better, even if I don’t complete every step.

There are more suggestions and resources below the cut. Wishing everyone in this community love and care. <3

2. The 15-Minute Rule (info available in many places; after a quick google, I really like this site as a place to start)

One key principle to understanding the resources I’ve put together here is the 15-minute rule. If you’re feeling an urge towards physical or mental self-harm or suicide, studies show that the urge is unlikely to last more than about 15 minutes at its peak intensity. (Sorry I don’t have data on this off the bat - anecdotally, I can tell you that this rule also tracks with my own personal experience.) This means that, if you’re presently feeling overwhelmed by grief or pain that’s turning inwards on you, if you can stay afloat through the next few minutes, the tide of it is likely to ebb. The site I linked above has information about this concept and some great harm-reduction ideas, too. (Another resource on this that I liked in my quick search is here.)

3. Read This First (a compassionate distraction from feelings of self-harm)

I’m gonna be honest; this resource is aimed at folks having urges towards physical self-harm, but it looks like something I would find helpful with urges towards emotional self-harm, too. (It also looks like it could be handy for body-focused repetitive behaviors - BFRBs - like dermatillomania/skin-picking or trichotillomania/hair-pulling).

4. Resources from Pete Walker, psychotherapist and author of Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving

Obviously not everyone reading this will have complex PTSD (also called C-PTSD), but if you’re a person who, in general, tends to beat yourself up a lot, I’d highly recommend checking Pete Walker’s work out. If some of it doesn’t apply to you, that’s okay - take what you need, and leave the rest. This site (and the book it references most heavily) assumes you may have had parents who were emotionally or physically abusive or neglectful. If that doesn’t ring true for you, but other parts of the resources seem helpful, use them anyway! A handy place to start maybe this page on Shrinking the Inner Critic in Complex PTSD (that is, reducing the volume of the voice that screeches unpleasantness at you when you feel ashamed or scared).

As a note: this website looks VERY mid-2000s (which I kind of love). Most of the resources you want will be in the right-hand column full of links. Some of those links will open new pages, and some will automatically try to download a PDF of the article you want to read. 

5. Warmlines:

This is something I just learned today - if you’re feeling really lonely and sad, but you’re not in immediate crisis, there are warmlines you can contact! These seem to be numbers where you can call (or sometimes text) to talk with a counselor or trained peer when you need support and connection. I can’t vouch for any of these numbers personally, but as someone who has definitely thought, “It’s not bad enough to REALLY need help,” I think this is a fabulous idea. Here’s a list of warmlines you can check out in the US.

6. Specialized hotlines: 

There are lots of good crisis hotlines out there, but some may be better for your needs than others. For one thing, if you’re feeling seriously suicidal, it’s good to know the policies of the hotline you’re calling. In my opinion, everyone deserves bodily autonomy and the right to refuse care; for that reason, I think it’s important to know the policy of the hotline you’re calling as to whether or not they’ll call emergency services without your consent. Everyone has to make their own judgment call on this one, and I’m a little too (lightly!) triggered to go deep into my analysis on this right now, but I wanted to flag that it’s something to be aware of - if you’re going to call a hotline, you can try to look up their policy on calling emergency services before you contact them. You could probably even ask them in the beginning of the call. (A script: “Before we start, can you tell me what your policy is about contacting emergency services on behalf of callers?” If this is true, you can add: “I’m having some feelings of [suicidality/self-harm], but I’m safe and am not in danger of hurting myself or others.”)

With that in mind, here are some hotlines that seem promising to me, in no particular order:

A. For queer and trans folks in general:

Trans LifeLine

Available in the US (1-877-565-8860) and Canada (1-877-330-6366)

Available in English and Spanish

Will NOT call emergency services without your consent (you can read more about this policy on their website, including here)

Peer to peer support for transgender and questioning folks; also, microgrants (small amounts of money) for trans-related needs!

Does not offer text/chat-based support

I’ve never used Trans LifeLine myself, but I’ve heard excellent things about it from peers who have.

The Trevor Project:

Support from trained counselors for queer, trans, and questioning folks

Definitely available in the US; I’m not sure where else.

Offers support via phone [phone]), text message (678-678), and online chat (link here - scroll down to Start Chat)

Also offers an online peer support space, TrevorSpace, for folks ages 13-24

Their site says, “In very specific instances of abuse or a clear concern of an in-progress or imminent suicide, Trevor counselors may need to contact a child welfare agency or emergency service.” When you click Learn More, it takes you to their Terms of Service (informative, but in legalese that might be hard to parse if you’re in crisis).

Again, not a service I’ve used myself, but I’ve heard good things!

B. For BIPOC folks (Black folks, Indigenous folks, and people of color more broadly), especially those who also hold LQBTQI identities:

Call Blackline:

Available via phone or text (both at 1-800-604-5841)

Available for people in crisis. Call Blackline can also help connect you with local community organizers and officials if you need to report a negative, inappropriate, or physical interaction with police, other law enforcement, or vigilantes.

From their website:

Call BlackLine® provides a space for peer support, counseling, reporting of mistreatment, witnessing and affirming the lived experiences for folxs who are most impacted by systematic oppression with an LGBTQ+ Black Femme Lens.Call BlackLine® prioritizes BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color). By us for us.

Here’s what I found regarding their policy on emergency services:

You do not have to provide any personal information to use the service. All calls remain private and will never be shared with law enforcement or state agencies of any kind.

Of course, a BIPOC person can contact any hotline for support, but for people dealing with racism, anti-Blackness, and other specific bigotries, I can very much see the importance of talking to someone who shares or understands that experience.

C. For folks processing bad psychedelic trips:

Fireside Project:

This one is something I didn’t even know existed! They do call- or text-based support (1-623-473-7433, or 1-62-FIRESIDE) for people processing psychedelic drug experiences, available 11am to 11pm Pacific time. I don’t have a ton more info, but their site seems really interesting and like they’re serving a unique need.

7. A soothing distraction:

One of the glories of the internet is the fact that it enables us to conjure up images of kittens at a moment’s notice. In that vein, I want to offer up a VERY cute distraction: Peptoc is a hotline [phone], or 1-707-8PEPTOC) where you can hear encouraging messages in English or Spanish from kindergarteners. How sweet is that? (Thanks to the wonderful @newbornwhumperfly for this suggestion!)

--------

Beloved whump community, I want to know about things that help you when you’re struggling. Please feel free to share them if you want.

And, Moya - we’ll miss you so, so much, even those of us (like me) who didn’t know you well. May your memory be an absolute blessing. <3

(I was going to put this in the tags, but oops, it’s going up here - I really hope this post will be helpful to someone, but it was also helpful to me to build. I feel better in a crisis when I can find a way to help - it’s how I soothe myself when I’m sad or scared. I really hope this doesn’t seem preachy or self-aggrandizing - it’s really just me processing-processing-processing. <3)

One more note: if this post makes you think you might want to follow my blog, you're totally welcome, but you should check out my note here first. This is not a DNI list; it's just a heads-up about my content, which could be inappropriate or triggering for some people.

#whump community #how to be a person in the world #ways to stay afloat #suicide mention cw #suicidality mention cw #self-harm mention cw #resources for taking care of yourself #bel talks #touchstones #sorry another disclaimer but also i know my experiences are not universal #my feelings might come from a really different place than other people's feelings #idk for instance if any of the shit in this post would have been at all useful to moya #but I'm sharing it anyway in case it's useful to SOMEONE

[imshymorph]

Gather around everyone, here’s some soft!Gaz headcanons. Idk if it's a blorbo or me ranting and fangirling but i need to share the brain rot. another post today cause fuck it, i’ve been thinking about it for a while. also this was like a constant stream of thought and not proof read.

I truly don’t understand why this man gets ignored so much and I never will. He literally has everything you could ever want, saying he’s a ten doesn’t cut it. And yet I barely see people talking about him. (Except the gaz nation pookies, I see you).

This man absolutely bags the hottest significant other, doesn’t even know how. Don’t get me wrong, he 100% has rizz but he’s also just naturally attractive and inviting so i feel like by the time he starts to flirt on purpose it’s been two hours of pure smoothness. He’s also absolutely whipped but plays it off really smoothly.

- - - - -

Not only does he bag the hottest and meanest pookie aka you, but he also absolutely knows he did. And he’ll let right about everyone else know. I do think he’s more private about his life than say Soap, so it’s not like he’ll stop a random recruit and tell him about you (which i truly believe Johnny would do). But he has absolutely followed Price around base while he tells him about the two weeks leave he took to be with you.

Poor Price on his desk, dealing with the paperwork that comes as a necessity after Ghost and Soap blew something up during a drill that didn’t involve explosives at all. Not only is he having to fill out like fifteen different forms and reports, but he has Gaz sitting across from him, scrolling through his gallery and showing pictures of the place he took you out to on your Friday dinner date. Not only that but if Price just pretends to look but doesn’t actually pay attention Kyle will know and insist until the captain actually looks at the slideshow.

He doesn’t hammer your dates' knowledge onto Soap and Ghost as much, but he’ll definitely do subtle flexes. He chest the time on his phone instead of his watch so they’ll see the picture of you he has as a background. If someone brings up a weekend plan he’ll say how he can’t because he’s already going out with his darling. Subtly will tell anyone that will listen how you got him his new shirt, pants, cap, whatever it is tbh.

He also knows every single product that you prefer, doesn’t matter what kind it is. Makeup, skincare, cologne, fabric softener, snacks, beverages, food places, clothing brands. He doesn’t care, he knows all of them by heart. It’s like he has a six sense too, every time you’re close to running out of them he’ll randomly stop in the store on his way back to you from base and get them.

While i headcanon that Johnny gets into skin care after his darling introduces him to it (which you can read here, if you want). I believe Kyle absolutely has his own routine and that he is the one who first brings up the idea of having a spa night once a week. He’s the one to get the products, he even goes all out and does them themed, like by scent or colour or something.

Has a bunch of hoodies in rotation (or any other clothing piece you might steal from him) always making sure to wear at least one of them for a few days before “forgetting” it at yours or “forgetting” to take it to base once you’ve moved in together. He knows how much you love wearing them and how important it is that it smells like him. So he dutifully makes sure you always have a fresh Kyle™ piece of clothing available. Also it absolutely works for him too because he takes back the one you’ve had with you meanwhile. The mix of your cologne, body wash and fabric softener his favourite scent for sure.

And last but not least of my Gaz is the perfect boyfriend agenda (for today) is the fact that i know he just gives the best back massages. You don’t even have to ask for it, he’ll just come to the living room, lightly pat your shoulder so you move forward. He fits himself between the couch and your back and just gives you the massage of your life. He just laughs it off when you tell him he could be a masseuse if he ever retires from the military.

It takes less than 5 minutes to have you absolutely melting, and when he’s pleased with how comfortable and relaxed you look he just pulls you back against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulder as you sit between his legs, the both of you watching a random show he saw good ratings of.

#cod x reader #x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x you #gaz x reader #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz nation #soft!gaz

[mrs-snape5984]

„And there's a black mark where your heart should've been….“

„I could've laid down and died, but my head was spinning round. It was spinning round. I wanna know what it's like, so I can feel it inside…“ („The Blue, The Green“ by Lonely The Brave)

Trigger warning: I’ve written this post in a moment of frustration and grief. If anyone has a problem with reading the sad thoughts of a depressed, middle-aged woman with the tendency to curse and swear too much, please feel free to skip the following five paragraphs.

It’s one of those especially hard days today. I had to leave my dark room to be taken to a medical appointment. Leaving my dark room means crashing hard again…with prior announcement!

So, leaving the house goes hand in hand with a sudden feeling of disorientation. Noises, movements, lights…those are all things, which my brain can’t comprehend anymore since I’m struggling with ME/CFS. When I’m overstimulated like that, I’m losing my grip on reality. Everything gets blurry and I feel as if I don’t know, who I am anymore.

It’s hard to describe, but I need to be guided into the right direction in these situations: Walking very slowly with my cane…having a break after every few steps…being held on my other arm…always wearing my dark sunglasses and my noise canceling earplugs…all these aspects together are making me feel so helpless…

I have to take my mother with me to the doctor’s office, because I wouldn’t understand a single word otherwise. And when I’m home again, back in my dark room…lying in my bed, the big crash starts to hit me right into my face! I’m getting feverish…my whole skin hurts as if it would be pulled off my body…my lymph nodes are swollen…my limbs are hurting and I can’t make a single step anymore. My head seems to explode from aching and I’m losing my ability to communicate properly. Every fucking time!

After some hours (sometimes even up to 24 hours) of sleep, I’m regaining consciousness again…still not capable of leaving my bed. And this is the worst moment…the moment, when my brain starts thinking about the humiliating feeling of being so helpless in my age. The moment, when I’m realising, that there are still so many years left to live….probably the same way as I was living for the past 1,5 years. The moment, when I’m grieving for the life, I’ve lost. The moment, when I’m hating myself for being too sick to be the active mother, friend, employee, I’ve been before this goddamn disease ME/CFS destroyed everything!

And this is the moment, when Severus has to take over. This might sound strange, but drowning in my fantasies about him is the only way to prevent my mind from going insane. Every time, when my own reality becomes unbearable to me, I’m imagining myself to be hidden beneath his robes…searching for shelter in his arms. Severus has been my safe haven for the past 21 years…and right now I’m clinging to him as tight as I can…in order to stay alive.

The wonderfully talented @alinearthp has transformed my fantasy into this beautiful artwork and I’m more than happy with the outcome of it. Aline, my friend, I love your art and the way, we’re sharing our thoughts with each other. You are a precious person, my dear, and I’m grateful to know you. Thank you so much for everything!

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

#severus x julia #severus x oc #he’s my safe place #commissioning artwork is my goddamn coping mechanism #this is my red carpet for all the artists of snape fandom #fuck me/cfs #mecfs #he’s by my side for 21 years now #he’s my comfort blanket #he’s my guiding light #i love severus #severus snape #i love snape #snape #snape love #snape content #snart #severus fanart #severus snape fan art #severus snape art #snape art

[explorationsoftheid]

Autism: A Senior Perspective

Recently there was a post on here where someone was saying how everyone automatically hates us because of our autism. How they may act nice to our face, but trash talk us once we’re out of earshot. How everyone will abuse, even kill us, because they can’t stand our autism. I replied that they were just wrong about that. That everyone doesn’t automatically hate us.

The more I thought about it though, the more I saw this was an opportunity for those of us who are older and are autistic, to share our perspectives, our experiences. I think it might help those who are young to know what we went through, how we coped, how our lives have turned out. Most importantly that it can get better.

I’ll start:

I’m 62 years old. Looking back with what I know now it’s clear that I was definitely autistic as a child. Today, my teachers would have pressed to get me tested, but in the 1970s, well autism wasn’t on anyones radar. I doubt my parents would have gone along with that anyway. They were the, “Straighten up and do what you’re supposed to”, and “Boys don’t cry” attitude so common of their generation. I had significant trouble with social interactions, I stuttered, and fought like hell to not melt down in loud and overwhelming situations. Public school was unfortunately full of those. I liked procedure and process, there was a right way and a wrong way to do things and I would get upset if someone broke ‘the rules’. I would obsess over particular subjects. Actually I drove some of my teachers nuts. They would give me a writing assignment and I would turn in a top quality report, but I would have somehow twisted what they wanted into what I wanted to write about.

High School was very confusing. People started dating and going to dances, and all that. I kept asking, only half as a joke if I had missed a class or something because it was all so strange to me. I went off to University and really did well there. My grades weren’t good, (I had to work well over full time to afford to stay in school) but I loved academia. The order, the quiet of the library, being able to study a subject that I was totally onto because I had chosen it as my major. The people I worked with, at all of my jobs, grew to understand my ‘quirks’ and were fine with them. I only wish I hadn’t had to work so much. My middling grades meant that by the time I graduated, I was mentally exhausted, and didn’t qualify for Grad School.

So, I got a job and had to move across the country. There I met someone who I have spent the succeeding 36 years with. They understand me, accept that sometimes I’m a bit odd. Sometimes I react badly to things. Sometimes I just have to say no, and they roll with that.

So I’m now approaching retirement. In the last few years I finally figured out that autism was the reason for all the trouble I’ve had over the years. I’m not lazy, or dumb, or anything like that, I’m autistic. I’m neurodivergent, and that’s the way it is. The worst time frankly was in my childhood and my teens. Since then I’ve learned how to deal with the world. I’ve found people who like me for me, people I don’t have to mask or put on an act around. I’ve found other autistic people and am not the only one anymore. I figured out what jobs suited my talents, and limitations (Retail? No! Computer Wizard or someone who makes things work in the background? Yes!) I’m approaching retirement and honestly things are going pretty well now.

So fellow Autistic Seniors, (That is to say anyone that thinks of themselves as older than most), what was your experience living your life as an autistic person? How have things turned out for you? What advice would you give to children or teens that are struggling to cope?

#autistic adult #autistic community #autism community #autism #autistic experiences #autistic #neurodivergent #autistic feels #actually autistic #autistic culture

[bp-zb1fics]

A little crazy

pairing: overprotective bf shanbin x s/o reader

genre: university au on unhingedness (same verse as perils, and no, it's not lasik), fluff

tw/tags: established relationship, some stereotypical characters, hanbin has a few quirks, character study lowkey, unwanted flirting, unintentional flirting, pet names, intimidation, he's sweet but a psycho, drinking, getting a lil tipsy, lowkey stalker vibes but not really, for plot purposes we will find it cute, threatening, idk how to tag this pls tell me if i missed something

wc: 2078

summary: your boyfriend is legitimately the sweetest person ever…except when someone tries to make moves on you. Then he gets…well…

a/n my advanced birthday fic for hanbin! Bc idk why I thought it was today I must have hallucinated but also idk if I have time to post on the actual day bc of real life commitments lmao whoops I struggle and try my best. Shout out to Kara aka @boysplanetmorelike for sparking this lil idea~

Check my pinned for more fics~

It’s not like he was perfect, even if people liked to think he was. Well, yes he is very boyfriend. That’s why he’s your boyfriend.

You, of all people, can attest to the fact he isn’t perfect. You’ve seen his hair in the morning. He’s definitely not at his prettiest. Sometimes he becomes a little control freak. You know that. You’re the one who they call to get him before he makes one of the poor freshmen cry unintentionally and then ends up feeling guilty about it and apologising profusely for the rest of the day, your poor soft-hearted man. And some might argue that yes he has his little ticks but they’re only minor character flaws if they can be considered flaws at all.

If only they knew.

Those who have had the pleasure of getting to know Sung Hanbin on a more, well, personal level are probably the only ones who will ever know. Poor souls, really.

And perhaps it isn’t as effective to explain as it is to show what exactly one of his more problematic personality issues is. Let’s take one unsuspecting, innocent afternoon.

Perspective. You’ve just finished class. It’s a pleasant day. You decide to meet at one of the benches under the trees outside your building. His class finishes a bit after yours so you wait, scrolling through your phone, peaceful, unbothered.

Enter unfortunate victim. For the purpose of this exercise, he shall remain unnamed. We’ll call him Victim #444. Or well, that guy.

He’s your typical fuckboy. Good looking in a sort of lukewarm way, hugely overconfident, probably thinks he has a bigger dick than he actually does, a horrible flirt, we’ve all met that type.

You share a class together. That’s how he makes conversation. Otherwise, he might not dare to approach at that time. Your talk goes something like this.

“Hey, you’re in Choi-seongsaengnim’s class too right?”

“Yeah?” You look up from your phone and he’s just there. He takes a seat on the same bench without asking. Well, it’s public property but he’s a little closer than you would like.

“He’s such a hardass, don’t you think? Like sure, he knows the lesson but he doesn’t need to act like this is the only class we’re taking.”

“Well, I mean-”

“-Like seongsaengnim, come on, I have a life outside of trying to figure out what the fuck your lessons mean.” You can add self-absorbed and stupid to this one’s list of notable traits.

“I think-” And definitely not letting you get a word in.

“Speaking of, have you got a partner for the latest project? Because, you know, I’ve been asked but I’m happy to make an exception if you want to pair up.”

“Actually, I already have-”

“Let me give you my number so we can contact each other? Maybe meet up, you know? I’ve got a nice little place to myself on the other side of campus.”

Ugh, as if. He’s leaning in so close that you can smell his cheap cologne. Before you can get up from the bench, arms wrap around you from the back and a very familiar voice coos in your ear.

“Ahh nae sarang, sorry I’m late.”

You turn your head, leaning into him.

“Hi Binnie-yah.”

He beams at you before directing his stare at the other guy. And so it begins.

“Oh, who’s this?”

You’re pretty sure Hanbin knew who this was. He knew who everyone was and at least one notable thing about them because he was quirky like that. Well, he wasn’t known as the university’s social butterfly for nothing. And you don’t want to spoil his fun so you let the guy introduce himself.

“Ah, you’re taking that major, yeah? So Junho-yah is your senior, how is he these days?”

“Oh, ah yes, Junho-sunbaenim’s been doing well, I don’t really see him around much actually.”

And bingo. The guy starts squirming. Faster than it usually takes. Your boyfriend’s made himself comfortable even though he’s half-hunched over and resting his chin on your shoulder, looking at the other guy with an unwavering stare. Sort of the way a spider would probably look at a fly before, well, you know.

“Really, well last I heard from him, he was complaining about how disrespectful his underclassmen are…but you’re not like that, aren’t you?”

“Ah, no, of course not sunbaenim.”

You can feel Hanbin’s smile get wider, his eyes crinkling in a way that you find adorable but you suspect might not be as cute for your unfortunate companion.

“That’s good, keep up the good work. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if any of my underclassmen were being disrespectful. Ah well, actually I can….”

He pauses and you swear that the guy stops breathing.

“...and I can definitely say that they’ll be very sorry that they even tried that with me.” Hanbin continues cheerily.

Suddenly he walks over and starts patting him on the shoulder. The guy flinches back.

“So next time, remember to be on your best behaviour and keep being polite, hmm? Don’t be so obvious? Maybe try not to be so shameless, yeah?”

“Ah, yes, of course, sunbaenim. Actually I- I just remembered I- I have to go- ah- sorry to disturb um- excuse me-”

You watch as he does a roughly 90 degree bow to both of you before walking off quickly.

“Less than 5 minutes, Binnie, that’s a new record.”

And your cute boyfriend is back, pouting and grabbing at your hands and squeezing them softly. If you were anyone else, you would have gotten whiplash.

“It’s not my fault if I want you all to myself, hmmm?”

Did you mention that your boyfriend was a little off in the head? Not in the should-be-confined-to-the-mental-hospital way but that slight sort of insanity that possesses him when someone tries to go for his little brother (rip Gunwook) or his little sister or his close friends or well, you.

And everyone else? Everyone else was not safe. If murder was legal, literally everyone else would probably be fearing for their lives. Which is probably a good thing that murder isn’t legal. Those incredibly lucky bastards.

Take one of the freshmen trying to chat you up during a party. They’ve been incredibly nice all evening, pouring you drinks and asking you all sorts of thoughtful questions about the major. So yes, you’re very happy to answer and give them little tips on how to ace a certain project.

“And it’s honestly fine if you mess up a little on your first test for Hwang-seongsaengnim’s class, he’s very nice when it comes to students forgetting a few names so don’t stress too much about it and make sure to ace the extra credit he gives.”

“Oh, thank you so much sunbaenim. That’s so helpful, I’ll definitely try my best.”

You can’t help but smile. So cute. Maybe it was the alcohol but you remember how it was like being a wide-eyed, overeager freshman listening attentively to your own seniors.

“It’s really no problem. Ask me anything, anytime. Seriously, don’t be afraid if you need advice.”

You reach over to pat them, swaying just a little from the amount of soju running through your body. They’re awfully red as well. You wonder why.

“How are you getting home, sunbaenim? Do you live nearby? I can walk with you if you’re comfortable with that, I don’t think it’s too safe to be out at this time.”

“Oh it’s no worries, I’ll be taking them home.”

“Ah Hanbinnie, meet my new dongsaeng” you’re not too sure when he got here or even why he’s here but Hanbin’s incredibly warm and his hands around your waist feel so nice. 

“This is my boyfriend.” You introduce him to the freshman. He dips his head in greeting as the other nearly tips over trying to bow. You make a concerned noise, making to catch the other but Hanbin firmly keeps you from moving, letting the freshman catch themselves instead.

“So nice to meet you, we’ll get going if that’s alright. It’s really not safe to be out this late, especially with someone you barely know.” You hardly register your boyfriend’s words but you’re not that drunk that you don’t know the smile he’s giving is about 95% fake and razor-sharp.

“Ah yes, get home safely, sunbaenim. I’ll find my way back so don’t worry.”

“Oh we won’t” You think you hear Hanbin say. Maybe. Could be your imagination. Because the next moment he’s nuzzling at your neck like a very spoiled cat, arms firmly holding you up as he guides you out of the bar and into the car.

“Nae sarang, you really need to take better care of yourself or I won’t want to let you out of my sight.” He says to you softly as he practically carries you into the passenger seat. It’s sweet, well the implication behind it is kinda creepy but you know he doesn’t mean it that way. (Does he?)

“You drove here?”

“Of course, I can’t let you go home all by yourself, can I?”

Like you said, there’s just a tiny screw loose in that head of his, considering the bar where you’re drinking is over an hour away from campus. You chalk it up to it being Hanbin. He can get a little paranoid on occasion. 

And sometimes, he goes a bit psycho. A little. Not a lot. Still, according to Gunwook, it’s terrifying. You really wouldn’t know but you’ve seen it.

You’ve come to wait for his dance club to finish when someone collides into you. It’s not too hard but it still knocks you off your feet and onto the ground with a thud.

“Yah, watch where you’re going, huh? I have a performance next week and I could have injured myself.”

It’s definitely one of the newer members because you don’t recognise them. Before you can say anything, Seo Won, one of the veterans, is already helping you up and asking if you’re okay. The one that knocked you over huffs and is about to say something else when Hanbin calls their name sharply.

Your boyfriend’s eyes narrow and maybe you’re a little lightheaded from the fall but also from the way his shirt clings to his body and his hair weighed down by sweat. It’s kinda hot but you’re not admitting that out loud. Not now, at least. He calls the other member’s name again and gestures him over.

He speaks too quietly for you to hear anything. All you know is that the other’s face pales drastically and he bows several times, walking over and apologising to you before practically hightailing out of the room.

Hanbin’s all over you in a matter of seconds, practically lifting you off the ground. It’s not good for your heart. Seo Won quickly backs off.

“My poor sarang, are you okay? Do you need anything? Ice? Are you bruised anywhere? Let me check.”

You don’t ever see the person who knocked you over again. Ever. You’d wonder about it but you’ve learned that it was better not to question sometimes. Especially when Hanbin insists on carrying you around for the rest of the day and practically waits on you hand and foot until the bruises fade. And it’s just a bruise. You do admit to him later that maybe you find it attractive when he’s a shade pissed and sweaty. Maybe you both get a little sweaty after that. And later, when you’re rightfully tired and sprawled out on top of him, you think about it.

Really, you wonder what goes through his mind sometimes.

[cut scene]

Hanbin smiles, all teeth and no sympathy. It’s like the serial killer before the murder.

“You speak to anyone like that ever again and I can do injuring for you, understood? No, don’t talk, just nod if you’ve managed to get it into that head of yours, hmm?”

A nod. Hanbin likes it when they’re like this. Quiet and white-faced and sweating nervously.

“Now go apologise to them. Sincerely. Like you mean it. And then, get lost. I don’t want to see your face for awhile, yes?”

Another nod. They take one step back and make to turn around.

“Oh wait.”

They freeze.

“Remember. Sincerely, okay? And don’t think I won’t know if it isn’t.”

A final nod.

“Very good. Now go.”

They go. Hanbin sighs. God, you’re going to drive him insane one day. (He already is)

#boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet x reader #boys planet mnet #boys planet 999 #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #kpop fics #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 fics #sung hanbin #sung hanbin x reader #sung hanbin imagines #sung hanbin fluff #sung hanbin fic #boys planet hanbin #zb1 hanbin #gender neutral reader #birthday fanfic #birthday fic #bp-zb1fics

[deer-knight]

they/them

the winter paladin has a new look! (2022 on left, 2021 on right)

so, when i did the autumn knight photos this fall and the winter paladin started gaining notes again this winter i wanted to further develop this seasonal fighter series, and because i only have one set of armor pieces initially i was just putting the same character into different seasons. however! then i thought wouldn’t it be more fun if they were all different characters?

so! the winter paladin i’ve redesigned a bit. i dropped the arm gear and chestplate and added more layers in wool, fur, and leather. this fighter is rugged, serious, and a survivalist. paladins fight for a greater cause, right? this one fights for the earth. so they’re angry, they’re sad, and their patience wears thin.

they’re also actually dressed for the cold! i’m wearing three layers of wool, one of linen, and a shirt of mail (not in that order) in this new version, and shot the recent set of photos today in close to sub-zero (F) weather. my fingers are the only part of me that complained for the ~hour i was out there, but i’ll maintain the fingerless gloves for now cause it’s hard to operate the camera/remote without constantly taking gloves on and off. (i dress for this weather daily in winter for work, which is all outdoors - please don’t lecture me in the comments about dressing for the cold)

i’m excited to share more of this new version! im not usually an outfit design person, but when it comes to armor/fighter concepts, i get hyped.

and since i got a few asks in my box recently about using my photos for drawing reference, i’ll say again that i LOVE when folks use my art to make their own, especially if i get to see it :3 i’ll 100% reblog it if you post it on tumblr too.

feel free to share any lore you think this paladin might have too. i love stuff like that.

<3

#winter paladin #knightcore #medievalcore #character design #they/them #nonbinary #nonbinary knight #paladin

[peterman-spideyparker]

Mr. Russo (Billy Russo x Secretary!Reader)

Author’s Note: I’ve had this fic and other Billy Russo stories in my drafts for ages, and I figured while I was working on other Daredevil and Moon Knight fics, I’d throw in some of these older ones that I’ve never posted. I think the original intention was for this to be longer and a multi-part series, but I don’t like that idea anymore. I cut about a thousand words, and I might include those as a bonus separate part--I’m not sure yet. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Working for Billy Russo wasn’t a challenge like most people would expect. You know how to do your job and how to do it well. One late night of working allows something about your past come to the surface, changing the trajectory of the relationship you share with your boss.

Warnings: Fluff, Billy softening up, angst (mentions of crappy experience in New York and the foster care system/Billy Russo being brooding and sad/hurt and rage/delicious tension), implied smut, cursing, mentions of addiction (drugs/alcohol)

Other Characters: Frank Castle

Word Count: 5,495

Another day in the books. Although everyday at Anvil is never the same, it can get a little monotonous. You answer the phone, respond to emails, draw up contacts, and do whatever Mr. Russo needs.

Oh, Mr. William Russo.

Intelligent, suave, cultured, and the definition of sex on two legs.

He works so hard in his business, and he cares about what he does. Anything that you can do to make his day less stressful, you’ll do it, and that definitely came in handy today, even if it still is a late night for him. You catch a glimpse at the clock on your screen—7:14pm. With a tired sigh, you hear him shuffle some papers around and push his chair out, moving a short distance to slide on his coat. You hear the click of his Italian leather shoes move closer to where you sit, and you smell his expensive cologne in the gentle breeze he brings by. You watch him as he walks with a purpose when he stops in his tracks, turning around to address you. “Do you ever even go home?” he asks.

“Sir?” you ask, unsure where he’s going with this.

“You’re always here before I get here—no matter how early—and you always stay after me. I just don’t get it.”

“I do my job,” you tell him. “It’s that simple. I do it, and I make sure that I do it well.”

“You also deserve a break—a life. Don’t you have friends around to go out for a drink or anything?”

“No, actually,” you admit. “Last friend I made in New York was one from when I got here. She then took 180 dollars from my wallet and ran away, making me scrape by for food for the rest of that week. My family isn’t nearby, either, if that was your next question. Work—this—is all I have, really.” Oh God, do you sound pathetic.

“Where is your family?” Mr. Russo asks, slowly moving back to your desk.

You scrunch up your bottom lip in a frown and shake your head. “I don’t know. I grew up in the system. I’m assuming whoever my parents are, they live in the Boston area, since that’s were I grew up.”

His expression softens to something to one that you have only seen twice before. It’s not quite pity, but it’s deeper than sadness. “You grew up in the system?” he asks softly.

You give a small nod. “It changes you pretty quickly.”

“It does.” His lips part like he wants to say something more, but he presses them in a tight line and sticks his hand in his jacket pocket, his eyes swirling with a mix of emotions. 

“Is there anything I can do for you before you leave, Mr. Russo?”

He blinks a few times before he shakes his head. “N-No,” Billy breathes. “Have a nice night, (Y/N).”

“You too, sir.”

There’s flowers on your desk when you walk in the next morning. How are there flowers on your desk?

“Hello?” you call into the office, sliding pepper spray out of your purse. “Anyone here?” Dead silence. Nothing looks out of place except for the bouquet, and after a quick sweep of the office, you see that you are alone. You look through the flowers and don’t see any card. Logging into your computer, you quickly pull up surveillance to see who delivered these. Your jaw drops when you see Mr. William Russo himself walk in at four in the morning with the same giant vase of flowers to your right. You lean back in your chair, your brain not really comprehending what you just saw. After a few minutes, you move towards the beautiful assortment of white gardenias, yellow lilies, red tulips, and magenta lilacs. You stick your nose to the flowers and take in a perfume of scents that make your chest happy and bring a smile to your face, and that smile remains on your face as you get to work and organize Billy’s day.

“Mornin’,” Billy says with a nod, walking a few hours later, not acknowledging the assortment on your desk.

“Morning,” you respond as he moves closer. “Thank you,” you say just before he enters his office. You don’t need to turn around to know exactly where he is—about a stride and a half from being in the doorway to his office, his right foot mid-step. “They’re beautiful.”

He doesn’t respond, but he takes a minute before he continues his gait into his office. 

The rest of the day proceeds as it normally does: you respond to client emails, answer the phones, do other office work, and hand Billy files, briefing him before his meetings.

“Have a nice night, (Y/N),” he says, adjusting his scarf on his peacoat as he walks past your desk.

“You too, sir,” you say. “And remember you have a 7:30 meeting tomorrow morning at the Four Seasons with Thaddeus Ross to discuss security for the SHIELD weapons conference.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” he says, turning to look at you, flashing you the faintest of smiles. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, considering you built this company from the ground up, I think you’d manage.” His smile grows a hair bigger. “Safe travels, Mr. Russo.”

The next few weeks proceed as they usually do, but you are dumbfounded yet again when you walk in Monday, about a month after you found the flowers on your desk.

“Morning,” Billy says, placing a coffee cup on your desk as he walks by. “Sweet cream cold brew, right?”

You turn in your chair and look at him, confusion and surprise written all over your face.

“Yeah,” you say. You notice he has a hot cup for himself in his hands. “You hate Starbucks.”

“I needed some extra caffeine this morning,” he shrugs.

“So the ‘shit-water jet fuel’ is what you were craving this morning?”

He nods, taking a sip of the drink in his hand. “Exactly,” he answers after he swallows. You can tell he still hates the brew.

“Well, thank you for thinking of me,” you say. “If you find yourself needing some more caffeine, just let me know and I’ll make a pot.”

His face says I’ll be taking you up on that in five minutes, but his lips say, “Thanks, (Y/N).”

The next morning, there is a bouquet of blush colored peonies, white gardenias, and purple roses on your desk.

“Vultures today, huh?” Billy says as he comes out of his office and to your desk, placing some outgoing mail in your organizer, adjusting some of the flowers in the assortment of roses, chrysanthemums, and asters. “That phone hasn’t stopped ringing all morning.”

“It’s the political season,” you hum as you shift your gaze upward. “All the big wigs want the best security money can buy. You’ve made it clear that you and your people are the ones for that job.”

“You know how to flatter a man,” he chuckles, shaking some nuts you’re snacking on in his hand before plopping them in his mouth. 

“While you’re here,” you say, picking up a few slips of paper, handing them to him in an ordered fashion. “These are those calls back you were waiting for, these are inquiries from the three biggest politicians running for Senate, this is a message from Frank wanting to know if you’re on for dinner at Karen’s, and these are the Ulrich files you were waiting on.”

“Thank you, paperwork Santa,” he says, moving his gaze to quickly examine what is in front of him. “And here I thought it was gonna be a slow day.”

“Around here? Unlikely,” you grin.

He is about to say something more when he turns his head to the ringing of his direct line in his office. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “We’ll talk more later.”

You turn back to your computer in astonishment. We’ll talk more later? Is this the same Billy Russo that hired you? And does he mean casual talk or work talk? He would have made it clear, wouldn’t he?

“Anvil, this is (Y/N),” you say as you continue typing a contract on your desktop.

“(Y/N), hi,” you hear Mr. Russo say on the other end of the line.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you ask, spinning around in your chair and watching your boss  give you a little wave through the industrial loft windows.

“We’ve been over this, you can call me Billy,” he reminds. “We’ve known each other long enough.”

“Sorry, it’s a force of habit.” You have to suppress a blush. “What’s going on?”

“I just got off of a call about that veteran’s fundraiser,” he says, and you shift to flip through the calendar.

“The one on Saturday night?”

“Exactly. They asked me to present an award and introduce a speaker that night. So in addition to networking and schmoozing, I’m gonna need to do some more things.”

“Let me know what you need to have ready, and it’ll be good to go by Friday night.”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d come with me Saturday. With my upgrade in duties, they gave me a plus one.”

What? “I appreciate the invitation, but I don’t know if I have anything black tie like that,” you say. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll have it all taken care of. So can I take that as I yes?”

“Y-Yes,” you stutter. “And—.”

“Perfect, you’re the best,” he says, having up the phone with a click.

Did your boss just ask you out? Or is this really just a work engagement?

When you come home from work on Friday, you see a black dress bag hanging off a garment rack with black bag hanging next to it. Locking up and putting down your things on the table by your door, you slowly move over to it.

“Told you I had it taken care of,” the note reads on the bag.

“What did you do, Russo?” you breathe, undoing the zipper. Inside, there is a stunning pine green gown. You look at the label and your mouth drops open: Oscar de la Renta. Taking it out of the bag, you see that it has a v-back, but has fabric coming off of each shoulder to give it a kind of cape effect. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion when you dare look over at the jewelry bag on the right next to it, seeing Harry Winston embossed in gold lettering. Carefully, you take it off of the hangar and peak inside, seeing three boxes neatly arranged. Placing it on your breakfast bar, you pull out the large necklace box, opening it to reveal both a sparkling diamond necklace and its matching earrings. Shocked, you pull the other two boxes out and find that they are the corresponding bracelet and ring. As you look down in disbelief, you catch a Louis Vuitton shoe box at the bottom of the rack.

You sit down on the barstool, lightheaded about the luxury that is around you. As if on cue, you see Billy’s contact light up on your phone.

“I’m assuming you’ve seen what you’ll be wearing tomorrow?” he says after you pick up.

“It’s way too much,” you say. “I appreciate it, but all this is more—it’s too much.”

“It fits the event,” he shrugs off. “It’s a ritzy event full of high-rolling investors, contributors, and other people within the top one per cent. Trust me, you’ll fit right in.”

“I just . . .”

“It’s a lot?” You swear he’s smiling like a devil on the other end.

“A hell of a lot.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the jewelry is on loan,” he says. “But the dress and shoes are yours to keep. Oh, and before I forget, you have an appointment to get your hair and nails done tomorrow with Donna at the Marigold Spa. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before your brain can think to ask him more, he is off the line, leaving you stunned in your apartment. 

“Who is it?” you call from your apartment, responding to the rap at the door.

“Your chariot has arrived,” Billy says through the wood.

“I’m almost ready,” you say, nearly falling over as you try to put on the heels standing up. “Come in! It’s open.” You hear the door open and shut, and the click of expensive shoes against the vinyl floor.

“You know, for someone that works for a security company, leaving the door unlocked isn’t secure,” he teases.

“I knew you’d be over soon and I was still getting ready,” you say. “Just a courtesy.”

“To robbers.”

You chuckle as you successfully gain your footing in one of the shoes. “There’s water in the fridge if you’re thirsty,” you start as you slide on the other shoe, throwing a few last minute things in your clutch, and taking one final look at yourself in the mirror.

“I’m good," you hear him chuckle in a low timbre as you clack your way out of your room. “Thank you, though.”

“Alright, I’m all set to go,” you say as you enter the main living space.

Billy turns toward you and stands stock still. His eyes slowly look over your body from head to toe. It’s as if he’s drinking you in.

“Wow,” he finally says, his dark eyes twinkling in the lights of your kitchen.

“Well, the guy that picked it out has really good taste,” you say with a small grin and a blush rising up from your neck to your cheeks. “Thank you.”

He continues to look at you for a little while longer before he realizes that he’s staring.

“These are for you,” he says, holding out a bouquet of burgundy, cream, and lavender roses. “A little thank you for agreeing to come.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say, smelling them. You move to find a vase, getting the flowers settled before walking back towards Billy.

He puts out his arm for you to take.

“Shall we?”

“I still can’t figure out how you manage to do it,” you say as you walk beside Billy after he schmoozes the last of the big-wigs in tuxedos.

“Do what?” Billy asks with a lift of his eyebrow.

“Work so well with these upper-crusty people. Some of them very clearly just a face at this fundraiser and don’t care the same way you do. I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Unfortunately, that’s just what the business is sometimes,” he sighs. “But then I remember that Anvil gives veterans an outlet when they get home—a legitimate career. Then it makes the schmoozing and pretending to care about their Hamptons houses easier.”

“That’s a great way to think about it,” you say softly. 

“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

Instead of walking to the direction of your table, Billy leads you to the edge of the dance floor.

“Care do dance?” Billy smiles.

“I can’t promise that I won’t step on your toes,” you say, feeling a blush prick at your cheeks and your ears.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have the band play something slow.”

You wouldn’t be surprised if his Marine-trained ears could hear how hard your heart is beating. 

“How can I say no to that, then?” you say with a small smile, your mouth suddenly very dry.

Billy takes your hand and leads you in. As if the band knows, the song shifts to something slow. Billy holds one of your hands in his while the other rests on the small of your back, his palm spread wide, securely holding you as you both move across the floor.

“And here I was thinking you had two left feet,” he grins.

“Well, I guess it helps that it’s not a formal ballroom dance,” you blush. Seriously, he has to know how fast your heart is racing right now.

“Is this what you thought you’d be doing with your life?” Billy asks as you slowly move in a circle. “Being a secretary, dealing with executives and government officials, and going to charity fundraisers?”

“Isn’t it every little girls dream?” you smirk, quirking an eyebrow.

He chuckles, twirling you to the music before he pulls you back into frame.

“No, really,” Billy whispers. “What did you want to be when you were younger?”

You think about it, but only briefly. “An author, I think. With all the time I spent in the system, I always tried to figure out how I could get out or what it would be like when I did. I’d just write about it. It moved from that to creating these different worlds and different people that were everything that I wasn’t and everything that I couldn’t be. Those are what made me happy. Scholarships from those stories is what got me through college to get my undergrad.”

There’s something soft in his eyes, tender even, as he listens to you talk about your childhood dream. It’s soul-churning and completely devastating in every sense of the word.

“What about you?” you return. “I’m assuming that the military wasn’t six-year-old Billy’s dream.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he admits. “I wanted to be a baseball player. But there were things that happened when I was a kid . . .” He clears his throat. You’ve touched a nerve.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—.”

“No, it’s okay. Saying that my childhood was shitty is an understatement, but it made me who I am and brought me here. In a way, I think the Marines was the only thing that made sense for me.” He gives you a gentle smile, pushing away the dark cloud that emerged on his face. “And just think: without it, we wouldn’t have met. And I don’t know about you, but our time together makes me happier.”

Your heart stops and leaps into your throat. He has to just mean as a coworker—maybe just even someone who isn’t an ex-Marine that he gets to see to break up his environment. You can’t let your mind go to these conclusions. It’d just be a disappointment, and he’s my boss. Still, you find yourself unable to look away from his hypnotic gaze, the tenderness in his expression making you melt. The song stops and he drops the frame, and you let your eyes flutter a few times so you can adjust your head out of the haze he has placed you in. Billy keeps his hand in yours as you stand, pointing his head towards your table. 

“C’mon,” he says. “I heard the steak was supposed to be amazing.”

“Did you have fun tonight?” Billy asks as you hand him a bottle of water, his elbow cooly leaning against the island.

“Surprisingly, yes,” you admit, taking off the heavy jewels. “I don’t know, I hear fancy fundraiser, and I don’t think ‘party.’”

“That’s cuz you’ve never been to a Billy Russo fundraiser,” he smirks.

“I guess those are the only ones worth going to, then.”

“You know, I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“You are?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Oh,” you blush, but a nagging question starts to echo in the back of your brain. “I-I didn’t mean to. Just tired.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll let you be for the night,” he says with a soft smile, giving you hand a gentle squeeze on the island before he moves away. “See you Monday, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. 

Okay, that’s it.

“Are you only being nice to me because you found out I grew up in foster care?” you blurt as he walks towards the door. There’s no turning back now. “Before, you’d never say more than you needed to to me, and now for five months, you’ve gotten me flowers, you ask about my day, you know my coffee order, and you left me an insanely gorgeous gown and jewelry to wear to a fundraiser that I wasn’t supposed to go to in the first place.” You pause for a moment, processing that you’re probably running a bond that you’ve wanted for a long time, not to mention your job, probably. “What’s changed?”

“You know I grew up in the system?” he asks, his head turned to the side while his back is still to you.

“I do,” you answer. You had done some deep digging when you were applying for the job, trying to find out as much about the company and its founder as possible.

“Then you should realize that I sympathize with you. Pouring your life into something to move yourself as far away from your past as possible.”

“What I’m really hearing is that all of this from the last few months has just been pity,” you say bitterly, and you try to push away the feeling of tears stinging at your waterline. “And if that’s what this job has turned into, then I don’t need it. I know my worth, and it’s more than that—than whatever this is.”

Your statement causes him to spin around so fast you think he’s gonna get whiplash. He strides over to you so quickly you almost can’t process it. He drops his keys to the ground before kissing you hard, one hand on your waist as the other holds onto the back of your head. He almost knocks you off your feet, but his hands on your body assure that it can’t be a possibility. Your hands rest on his shoulder as your lips move against him, kissing him back just as urgently. His beard tickles a little, but you’re not moving in a way that makes it scratch. When Billy finally pulls away, you’re both left panting for air.

“It’s not pity,” he clarifies. “It’s admiration. I had always thought you were some brown-noser with daddy issues, but you always had this integrity and determination. And then . . .” he trails, his eyes intent and glassy. “I know that drive you have, and that fear of being a disappointment. Hell, that’s how I got here. I wanted to show you that we’re not that shit that happened to us. I wanted to show you that I care.”

“It’s a hell of a way to show it,” you say quietly, looking at his big brown eyes. “I, um . . .” you swallow hard and let emotion contort your face, reeling your feelings in before you continue. “Every time someone finds out, they treat me differently. I really didn’t want you to be one of those people. You might not have thought so, but the way you treated me before made me feel like I finally had a place, y’know? I had a purpose to do something. That I was needed and wanted.”

“I know,” he nods.

“I guess I’m just confused why now.” 

“You’ve been my secretary for four years. You know things about me that I don’t even know all the time. You know things about me that you don’t need to know, but you care enough to. I’ve always wanted to know those things about you, but . . . I’m not great at communication with people that—.” He stops to clear his throat, furrowing his brows together. “The only good relationships I have are with Frank and Curtis, and that’s because we’ve been through hell and back with and for one another. I didn’t know where to start with you, because you just come in and you’re like this . . . force to be reckoned with. I guess that finding out we had something in common made me think I could know you better.”

Billy tucks some stray hair behind your ear as he looks at you. “I don’t want to go back to what this was before,” he says softly. “I like this. Having a friend. Connecting with someone. And . . . I like to think this has the potential to be more than that. Than friends.” 

“Well, I guess I need to know if you kiss all your friends like that.”

A small smile spreads across Billy’s face. “Just the ones that use lemon shampoo and look good in designer dresses.”

“I’m not fired, am I?” you whisper. “Because I think a kiss like that is some kind of HR violation.”

“Not if you don’t want to be,” he responds. “I will say, though, the job market is tough right now.”

“Is this something we can do?”

“I’m willing to make it work if you are.”

You nod your head. “Let’s try it.”

Billy leans back in for a kiss, this one more gentle that the last, but just as deep. Your arms wrap around him and settle on his back, and you feel him lift you up slightly as he pulls you into him.

“We’re gonna do this slowly,” he breathes, brushing his nose against yours, his chocolate eyes staring into your soul.

“Okay,” you quietly agree. “Slow.”

“We have different definitions of slow,” you hum as Billy presses a kiss to the back of your naked shoulder.

“Trust me, I wanted to, but I have a thing for brunettes in designer dresses,” he says, dragging his hands down the bare curves of your body in post-sex bliss. “And it looks just as good on the floor as it did on you tonight.”

You laugh as you roll onto your back, your head resting on his shoulder. 

“Hi,” he says with a dreamy look on his face.

“Hi,” you say, returning his gaze. He leans down and presses a soft, tender kiss to your lips before resting his cheek on the crown of your head. You lay like this in blissful silence as his fingers play with yours, the pale moonlight trickling into your bedroom through the curtains. You think he has fallen asleep—and you almost have—when he shifts a little on the mattress.

“Did you ever think of finding them?” he asks quietly. You know exactly who “them” is.

“I did find them,” you say. “I found out all about them, too. A little after I told you about growing up in the system, actually—curiosity got the best of me.” You think about what you know, and the silence weighs heavy in the bedroom. “My father was an alcoholic, and my mother used all kinds of drugs. They had a short and nasty relationship and split before I was born. My dad worked on the docks, showed up one day drunk, hit is head, and drowned. Based on his obituary, I was six when he died. My mom sobered up around that time, got married, and lives in Cape Cod.” You feel hot, angry tears sting at your waterline. “Two kids, and a freakin golden retriever.”

“And I’m guessing you don’t want to reach out?” he asks carefully.

You scoff. “No. Didn’t want me then, won’t want me now. I’m a part of that past that she worked to forget. I don’t want to go near her with a ten-foot pole. Besides, if she wanted to know me, she’d find me. She’d find a way. And she hasn’t. That says all I need to know.”

Billy wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, pressing a long kiss to your forehead.

“She’s missing out on the best person that I know,” he whispers.

Too emotional to respond, you snuggle into him and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

“Have you?” you whisper. “Found yours?”

“I found my mom,” he swallows. “She chose meth over me—she safe-havened me. From then on it was group homes.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I think I’ve made my peace with it all. Can’t change it. But it made me who I am, and I’m okay with who I am.”

You don’t ask any more onto the subject. Instead, you snuggle in closer to him.

“For what it’s worth,” you breathe. “I really like who you are, too.”

Billy turns so you’re huddled together chest-to-chest, his arms holding onto you tightly, kissing your forehead before tucking your head under his chin. You fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart.

You practically jump out of your skin when you feel a pair of arms loosely wrap around your middle.

“Jesus, Billy,” you sigh. “You really don’t make a sound if you’re not wearing Italian leather shoes.”

His laugh comes out as a hum as he places a kiss on the back of your neck, right on a bundle of nerves he found out about last night.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” he murmurs into your skin. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” you grin as you turn the waffle maker.

He kisses your neck again before resting his chin on your shoulder. “I thought the guy was supposed to make breakfast.”

“Not in my house,” you say, running your fingers through his hair as you move to flip some bacon. “My place, my job to make you some food.”

“Fine,” he sighs, moving from you, but not before placing a light smack on your rear. “But I make the coffee.”

“You want any eggs?” you ask.

“Nah,” he says, pouring coffee grounds into the filter. “This all is more than enough. I don’t usually get to enjoy this part.”

“Well, if we’re gonna make a habit of this, it’s something you better get used to.”

You finish making breakfast in harmony, exchanging sections of the newspaper as you eat.

“Wow,” Billy chews, taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re destroying the crossword.”

“It’s a talent,” you smirk as you pause before filling in the rest of your answer. “Now, is it ‘ei’ or ‘ie’ in Steinbeck? I can never remember.”

“I guess you got cocky too soon,” he smiles.

“Yes, and I’m big enough to admit it. Which is it?”

“I’ll tell you, but it’ll cost ya.”

“Oh?” you say as his hand slides into mine, silently inviting you to get up and sit in his lap. You do, and his free hand squeezes your thigh.

“It’s gonna cost you a kiss,” he hums.

“Mm, you run a hard bargain, but I think I can afford that,” you smile, biting your lip as you press your mouth into his. It’s tender, and even with coffee in your systems, there’s something sexily sleepy about the embrace.

“It’s ‘ei’,” he breathes, his lips brushing against yours before placing another kiss on you lips.

“Thank you,” you say, filling in the squares and placing a soft kiss on the freckle just below his eye. His hand then gently holds your cheek, bringing your lips down to his. The kisses grow more needy, and just after he adjusts you so your legs straddle his lap, his phone starts to ring. Reluctantly, he pulls away and looks at his phone.

“Shit,” he hisses before he answers. “Hey, Frankie.”

“Brother, where are you?” you hear Frank ask through the phone.

“Yeah, no, I’m on my way,” he sighs. “I just got a little held up this morning.”

“Mm, yeah,” you hear him chuckle. “Where’d you find this one?”

Billy looks at you with warm, sparkling eyes. “I think she found me.”

“And the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day.”

“Yeah, shut up,” he chuckles. “I’ll be there soon.”

Billy hangs up to avoid any more snark over the line from his friend, but not before kissing you once more.

“I didn’t realize it was this late,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

“I know: ten o’clock runs with Frank, every Sunday. And if you go by the office, you have some extra workout clothes there so you don’t have to run in a tuxedo.”

“Nothin’ gets by you.”

“Nope,” you smile, popping the ‘p’.

You get up from his lap and begin to clean up the table while Billy moves back to your room to get his clothes.

“I will trade you one dress shirt for one very soft and fluffy robe,” he offers when he comes back into the kitchen, your Hello Kitty robe hanging from his finger.

“I guess I accept,” you sigh dramatically. You slide Billy’s shirt off of your body and hand it to him as he slides the robe onto your shoulders.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, adjusting the collar on your robe.

“Tomorrow,” you nod. “Have fun with Frank.”

“Somethin’ tells me I’d be havin’ more fun here.”

He leans down to kiss you, repeatedly procrastinating his delay with each punctuation of his lips.

“Okay,” he kisses. “I’ll see you—.” Kiss. “—tomorrow morning—.” Kiss. “—bright—.” Kiss. “—and—.” Kiss. “—early.”

You giggle as he takes you in for more kisses. You pull away from his reach, only to be swept back in for one final kiss.

“I really gotta go, now,” he sighs, tucking hair behind your ear.

“I know. I’ll see you soon.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​​​​​​​​​ @steampowerednightvaler​​​​​​​​​​ @themusingsofmany​​​​​​​​​​ @just-the-hiddles​​​​​​​​​​ @toozmanykids​​​​​​​ @dangertoozmanykids101​​​​​​ @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother​

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fluff #billy russo angst #billy russo smut #billy russo x you #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction #ben barnes #billy russo punisher #the punisher #the punisher netflix #the punisher disney+

[humming-pokemon-helpers]

Okay, I promised gay Pokémon, I will deliver (so I can distract myself from thinking about anything else relating to this day!!)

🏳️‍🌈💝Let’s Talk About Gay Pokémon Courtship!💝🏳️‍🌈

Firstly, a note: this post is mostly about Pokémon that form long-term partnerships (exclusive or not). That doesn’t mean there isn’t any gay romance going on in non-pair-bonding species, just that it’s more of a short-term fling! (Did you know Yanma have been recorded to be gay? Now you do.)

With that being said… I want to look at a few specific examples for today! Birds are by far some of the most dedicated, but I’ll focus in on a lesser known one today, Mandibuzz! I’ll also touch on a wonderful Zoroark pair I’ve gotten to know myself, and finally, as bears discussion in any talk of couples, Tandemaus! (I might add more if there’s demand, later.)

1. Mandibuzz

Mandibuzz, as many may be aware, are a primarily (I would say solely, but biology doesn’t like absolutes much) female species of buzzard Pokémon! Typically they produce their eggs by pairing with Braviary, but… that’s about where the “straightness” ends with many Mandibuzz.

See, Mandibuzz raise their young in nests made from bone. But what many neglect in this fact is that nests are not made for one singular Mandibuzz. Instead, Mandibuzz go through a long and arduous courtship process to choose fellow Mandibuzz to pair up with, consisting of bone collection and adornment (which the Pokédex, to my loathing, lists as “showing off for males” that don’t exist), specialized mating calls and courtship dances, and finally, the exchanging of bones.

Once these nests are formed, Mandibuzz nest together for life. They’ll hunt for carrion together, adorn each other with pieces of bone, and groom each other, in addition to diligently raising their young together. Newborn Rufflet and Vullaby view both Mandibuzz as their mothers, regardless of which clutch they’re from. Perhaps as the most bittersweet example, bonded Mandibuzz are willing to fight to the death to protect not just their shared clutches, but each other. Love those lesbians.

2. Zoroark

I know, I know, it’s a cop-out from me to throw in another Unovan Pokémon of my species, but if I didn’t add this all of my examples would be lesbian. Zorua, like many other gender-skewed species, typically have an abundance of males and not many females around. You might think this would lead to intense competition for mates. You would be very wrong. Firstly, because not many pairs are exclusive for life (some are, still). Secondly, because male Zoroark, on average (again, this tends to be similar for many male-skewed species!), are gay as hell. (My brother being exclusively straight is weird, and I blame human heteronormativity jokingly.) (ALSO, this may just apply to my pack for all I know.)

Anyhow. Zorua essentially form hunting partnerships in childhood. Hunting used to be an essential part of our lives before McDonphan’s showed up down the street to raid instead. …Okay, it still is. Now, these pairs are mostly formed between same-gender Zorua, and stick through the rest of one’s life. Female Zoroark who pair tend to raise their kits together (though kit raising is pretty communal already), and often have similar closeness to female Mandibuzz. Male Zoroark who are paired at a young age often focus exclusively on their partners! They serve as teachers to the younger Zorua in the pack, much-needed babysitters, and often adopters of the ‘weaker’ kits whose survival is uncertain. Outside of kit rearing, though, some paired Zoroark have formed their own solitary pairs far-flung from local packs, subsisting off their own paired hunts or taking on lives in the human world together!

3. Tandemaus

Tandemaus, as a species, are presumed genderless due to their never being separated. That being said, there are gender differences in the mäuse, with there being pants-wearers and shirt-wearers. What field researchers have found recently, though, is that up to 15% of couples consist of two pants-wearers or two shirt-wearers! (Sadly, could not get such a picture for today.)

There’s no observed behavioral difference between two-shirts and two-pants couples… and what’s more, they are just as likely to show up with one or two more mäuse suddenly. Genetic testing has found these newly-acquired mice are just as genetically equivalent to their “parents” as mixed-pair born Maushold… I wish I could begin to dig into that, but good for them! Good for them.

#pokeblogging #pkmn irl #long post #//mostly silly headcanons :)

[im-overstimulated-and-im-sad]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tag, @paperstorm @sznofthesticks @carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom @actualalligator @anewkindofme @honeybee-taskforce @jesuisici33 💝

This is from the second chapter of my TK finds Carlos's favorite movie fic - which has been posted as of a few minutes ago -

“Babe, are you coming out here?” TK called, craning his neck to see what Carlos was doing. “Who are you texting?”

“Just Judd,” Carlos answered. “He asked if we were still coming to the thing this afternoon. I was gonna say probably not”.

“No don’t!” TK sat up, wishing he could get off the couch by himself. “I forgot that was today. I thought it was next week”.

“Well, it was next week last week,” Carlos pointed out. Judd and Grace were having everyone over for a barbecue/126 hang/Grace’s parents wanted to meet everyone/they had gotten a new play structure for Charlie for the backyard and Grace didn’t want Judd putting it up by himself.

“I still wanna go,” TK said. “I’ve never been to a play structure raising before”.

“A play structure raising?” Carlos repeated as he sat next to TK on the couch.

“It’s like a barn raising,” TK explained, “Only without the Amish people… and more respect for women”.

“I see”. Carlos nodded as he reached forward to thread his fingers between his husband’s. “But baby, you might find it a little bit difficult to play structure raise if you can’t put both feet on the ground”.

“Carlos”. TK pouted. “I know that I can’t help. But I want to go see everyone and hang out”.

“Baby”. Carlos’s hands migrated so one was resting on the back of TK’s neck and the other was combing through his hair. “I’m not trying to keep you from missing out. But you,” he tapped TK’s nose, “are a social butterfly at these kinds of things. Hell, I can think of Catan nights where you barely sit still”.

It's late - but open tag for anyone who hasn't shared and wants to 🫶

#seven sentence sunday #911 lone star #tarlos fic

[floral-ashes]

Book release day! Very queer, very trans, very fun~~ <3

🚨📚 Today is the Canadian release day for my new book Gender/Fucking: The Pleasures and Politics of Living in a Gendered Body! Reviews of the book and links to where you can get it are at the bottom of this post.

But first, some pictures!

Asking what we can learn from sexual arousal, the book takes an incredibly raw and thought-provoking look at community, queerness, fetishization, trauma, and hope. The book tricks you into reading theory by sandwiching it in erotica. Or maybe it tricks you into reading erotica by sandwiching it in theory? I don’t know anymore...

I decided to go with an indie press that believed in the book and its transformative potential. But it means we don’t have the marketing budget of Penguin et al. I really need your collective help with spreading the word about it. Because it could benefit so many.

Early readers told me it’s a book that unmakes you and puts you back together piece by piece. It hurts, it troubles, and it nourishes. It gives voice to truths that were hidden deep in your bones. That’s how I felt writing it, and what I hope I get to share with all readers. I was using the expression “academic smut” to describe the book, but someone said it might be better called “smut therapy.”

I’ve joked a few times with friends that this is a book best read one orgasm per chapter. But it has more than a grain of truth to it. I do believe that we can learn from arousal, instead of seeing it as the antithesis of knowledge. Don’t disavow the truths of the body.

The book is an ode to the messiness of human experience. I wrote it as a way of healing and of connecting with others. While I foremost wrote it with other queer and trans people in mind, everyone can see themselves in this book and gain from it. We all share in humanity.

This year has been rough, between the intense harassment, death threats, and hate hitting really close to home. Knowing that this book was coming out has sustained me. Knowing that I would have this moment of community, of shared passion, has been a balm on those psychic wounds.

Once you get your copy, post pictures and share your impressions as you read under the hashtag #GenderFucking. You can also tag me! This book is a journey. You will feel deeply. You will have many thoughts. Some challenging, some cathartic, some freeing. All worthwhile.

You can also help me out by posting reviews on Goodreads and Amazon. If you want to write a longer review for a blog or a magazine, or suggest it for review at your favourite newspaper or magazine, that would be tremendous! All help spreading the word is truly appreciated.

Ignite the flames of passion and curiosity. Join me in embracing the raw, vibrant truth of our gendered existence.

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤:

“This book is a light among a sea of uncertainty and darkness.” -Haley (spoonie.reads)

“This book aroused me, laid bare my trauma, and rang a bell deep in my soul. […] This book could change your life. It changed mine.” -Gwen Marshall, philosopher

“Transsexuality has never been sexier.” -Cáel Keegan, author of Lana and Lilly Wachowski: Sensing Transgender

“By introducing new ways of thinking about love, sex, relationships, and the impending future, this book meditates on the stigma against daring to have a body—and especially a transfeminine body—in public space.” -Amy Marvin, author of Laughing at Trans Women: A Theory of Transmisogyny

For longer reviews, head on over to Goodreads.

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐲:

Find a local bookstore in Canada by using the “shop local” function of this website.

For a partial list of bookstores in Canada and elsewhere.

For the ‘muricans among you.

#transgender #trans #lgbtq #queer #lgbtqia #gay #lesbian #lgbt #books #trans lit #trans literature #literature #smut #wlw #sapphic #bisexual #pansexual #nonbinary #trans woman #trans women #trans joy #transfem #transmasc #bookworm #booklr #bookblr #book quotes #books & libraries #reading #books and reading

[broomsick]

Sharing a bit of UPG: underrated, lesser known aspects of some of the Gods!

Hi, people! We’ve got some beautiful rain over here, today, and it’ll soon be warm enough for me to plant my garden! How’s everybody doing? Today, I want to write up a fun and laid back post to share with you all a few of my UPG’s concerning some of the norse Gods and their lesser known aspects! Since my posts are often focused on historical practices and beliefs, I thought it’d be fun for me to write a bit about my personal experiences, for today. Without further ado, let me get into it!

A while ago, I was blessed with the opportunity to talk to a fellow pagan about my thoughts on Eir and my experiences with her! I thought to myself some of you might be interested in hearing about this, since I have posted a few prayers to Eir in the past, but I have not gotten into too much detail concerning my worship of her. The reason for this is that since she is a deity whom we unfortunately don’t know much about, I found it quite difficult coming up with a clear, personalized Eir worship. Hence, my work with her ended up being very casual. Some could say, a bit messy! But I do my best! What I mean by “messy” is that I don’t hold specific events in her honor, but I pray to her quite regularly, for good health and the like.

Now, I mostly want to address one aspect of Eir that’s less spoken of, but which I share with other followers: her ties with intellectuality, scholarly practices and the like. She’s often regarded as a Valkyrie, and as such, it’s possible to associate her with Óðinn, making her ties with knowledge all the more prominent. In my experience, praying to her for help with studies is not unheard of, and it’s certainly not a bad idea! The study of medicine is quite complex, and to master such a skill requires much reflection, especially considering that Eir was primarily worshipped during an era when proper medicinal care was harder to access and all the more necessary. Which is why, in my opinion, associating Eir with anything related to research, studies and the like isn’t too much of a reach!

As a Goddess of medicine and health, amongst other things, she’s often described as kindly and compassionate, even gentle. However, though she is very kind, of course, my experience with her is a bit different! In the sense that, she can have quite a serious aura about her. When it comes to medicine, she takes things quite seriously. So when you pray to her for help with healing and the like, she’s kind of like a fussing mother who tells you to take better care of yourself while she’s making you her homemade remedy!

The next deity I’ll be touching on is Njörðr! Lots of historical evidence, as well as little details I have noticed along my spiritual journey have led me to associate him strongly with leadership, and even fatherhood/parenthood. Many of the people I’ve met and who worked closely with him told me his presence felt fatherly and noble, and I have also experienced this feeling, during the few times when I strongly connected with him. While he generally isn’t viewed as some sort of “King of the sea”, especially not when compared to Ægir and his large hall and opulent feasts, I still tend to associate Njörðr with leadership. For one, due to Yngvi-Freyr’s ties to the concept and the many parallels that can be drawn between these two deities. However, a small, seemingly insignificant detail has also made me to see him as a leader figure. It is the fact that he is more often than not depicted holding an oar! The oar is a symbol of the sea, of course, but there’s something else I came to think of. I was reflecting on this once, during adoration, and thought to myself: “He carries the oar because he isn’t one who stands at the prow and gives out orders, he is one who rows along with the other men.” He accompanies us and leads by showing example! Of course, this is just one of my personal interpretations of the symbol of the oar in Njörðr depictions, and there can be many possible explanations to the presence of this symbol. This interpretation is quite emotional and subjective indeed, but it feels right to me, especially given how a handful of other Njörðr followers have shared this thought with me!

Next on my list is kindly Frigg! Something I find to be very unfortunate is that many pagan sources will boil down her domain to one singular concept: family. Sure, she can indeed be associated with marriage, pregnancy, children and the like. But reducing this Goddess to just these things, for the simple reason that she’s a female figure, and the wife of Óðinn is quite crude (I would even say misogynistic, depending on the context) in my eyes. She is a complex deity whose domains of influence are wide, in my experience. For example, one of her aspects that’s quite prominent in the myths is her ties with divination, fate and prophecy. It’s even said that she knows the fate of all but won’t reveal it, and that she’s adept at the divinatory arts. The extreme resemblance between her character and that of Freyja, which has led many scholars to believe they might have been the same deity at some point in time, has made me draw parallels between the two and eventually associate both with magic, or seiðr. I have asked for Frigg to help me improve my tarot and rune casting skills, in the past, and each time, she has delivered! In that sense, she can be viewed as a patron for those who practice witchcraft, divination or other magical arts. 

Eir art

#personal #spirituality #upg #deity work #deities #Eir #Njord #Frigg #norse paganism #norse gods #paganism #norse polytheism #heathenry #polytheism #norse mythology

[flush-it-down]

Reject Rub

“So I’ll be the first to admit, I love grabbing my dicklette and having a good wank. But let’s be honest, a good jerk is how real men masturbate. We’re pussyfree betas. We don’t deserve to masturbate that way.

So how should we be masturbating? The answer is the reject rub. It’s simple, you use one finger and rub up and down the most sensitive part of your clittie. Kind of like how a girl masturbates. Do this with your legs spread and open. It’s a more frustrating masturbation experience but it will feel right. Rubbing your rejected dicklette this way is a great reminder that you’re not a man and you’ll never get pussy. And I think you’ll find that it is pretty hard to have beta inappropriate sexual thoughts of penetration when you’re rubbing like a pathetic bitch in heat.

Try it today. And be a good beta and stick with it. Your clittie doesn’t deserve to be gripped and tugged by you or anyone else. Imagine how humiliating it will be to be jealous of guys who get to grip their dick to masturbate knowing you don’t get that! Get rubbing, reject! Thanks to sissycensoredeserved for helping me learn the right way to pleasure my clittie.

Reblog and spread the word. And whenever you’re tempted to grip your clittie remind yourself that you only make reject rubbies from now on!

Glad so many of you are taking to the reject rub (https://cum-in-kleenex.tumblr.com/post/164160793122/reject-rub).  Now that I’ve become more of an expert I had a few points I’d like to share.

If you’ve tried the rub you’ve probably realized that the pleasure comes in waves as you rub.  It takes time to get up the waves and it can be a little frustrating, I know!  I bet before a cresting wave of pleasure from your rub you want to grip your little shame so bad!  Don’t! Don’t ever!  I know the temptation to grab and stroke is so strong.  When you are having that feeling, I want you to rub even harder and remind yourself you aren’t a man so you don’t masturbate like one.  

During that moment of frustration it’s normal to think about stroking, maybe even fantasizing about it. That’s ok, but you should be imagining big cocks stroking and being stroked.  Think about how they get to feel that while you get your sad little rub. That should feel nice and appropriate.  When you fantasize about sex you should be imagining other men fucking the girl of your dreams and its that same for stroking, you should fantasize about men with real cocks who deserve that pleasure.

Once you’ve mastered that you might find that it is pretty fun to reject rub with a nice dildo in your mouth or your sissy ass. I’ve found having a nice realistic dildo in my mouth while I reject rub really helps me stay in the right beta space.

Let me know how the rub is working for your little clitties!”

#reject rub #repost

[cosmicdream222]

have you entered the void before?

I'm asking cause I've seen you post about it a bunch times with different methods to enter

Also, thank you for introducing me to the phase method! I'm using it and another method (one I created) to enter

Hey! Glad to hear the Phase has been helpful for you! Happy to answer your question, but it’s a bit more complicated than a yes/no answer and I’m feeling rambly today so you’re gonna get a whole backstory on how this blog came to be 😂

Backstory about me & this blog

I’d been in the personal development manifestation community since around 2016, and it was my life for a long time. But the kind of manifesting these people taught was basically like… wake up at 5am, work out, journal, meditate, shadow work, tarot cards, affirmations, cold showers, start a business, post no less than 10 times a day across your 5+ social media channels, and maybe if you hustle hard enough and cleared enough past life karma and Mercury isn’t retrograde, then the universe might grant your wishes... (if you don’t die of exhaustion first. 😅)

It really was a mess and realize now despite the facade of positive thinking and good vibes, the whole community really just keeps themselves identifying with lack & victim mentality so the coaches at the top profit off everyone else’s misery.

I believed in manifesting and had faith I would achieve my goals, but despite years of trying a million different things, only saw small or short-term successes and never seemed to get anywhere. I was feeling pretty burnt out and miserable, so summer 2023 I decided to stop trying so hard and just spend some time focused on myself and what I wanted. I went back to the two methods that I’ve always loved and had success with: affirmations and tapping.

I tapped every day and started making affirmation art and lockscreen wallpaper for fun. I posted the affirmations on Pinterest, which eventually lead me to finding affirmations pinned from tumblr. I think it was a screenshot from blushydior I saw at first, but her blog was deactivated by then. So I started stumbling around tumblr (around Aug-Sept 2023 at this point), where I eventually came across loa, the void, and shifting.

I was surprised because despite my extreme research into all things personal development & spiritual, I’d never heard of it. Although I’d read about quantum physics and more supernatural things, every coach/teacher had major limits. “Manifesting” only meant getting logical earth things like making 6 figures in your business through hard work and hustle so you can afford to travel and buy luxury cars & Chanel bags. Stuff like changing the past, waking up with all your desires, etc was absolutely impossible and not even talked about except “you can’t change the past”.

So having only heard about these incredible overnight life-changing manifestations from tumblr, I was skeptical and wanted more information. I basically started this blog to collect information from outside tumblr to prove it to myself and share with others. Which of course sent me down a rabbit hole of research and overconsumption and overcomplicating the void 😅

I did get kinda obsessed and throw myself into trying every shifting & void method I saw right away, which just left me frustrated with “failed” attempts. But I see now I was just repeating the same victim mentality from the old community - that everything had to be hard and a struggle, that I was a victim of circumstance and limited by a higher power. (This is also a really commonly held limiting belief in religion and society in general that affects many people.)

It took me more than a few months to realize, but I’m finally switching my default programming to that of a creator instead of a victim. Because I don’t want to be obsessed and put the void on a pedestal, I’m currently just working on my self concept that I am in control of my reality and can manifest whatever I want - with or without the void. I still do want to experience it of course, just want to make sure I’m going at it with a healthy mindset.

However!

About a week or two ago I read someone’s void success story that triggered a memory from many years ago: I realized I actually did wake up in the void and manifested something, long before I even knew what manifesting or the void was 😭 Because I’d always believed in supernatural things, I thought I had a “psychic dream” but now I know it was the void! (If anyone wants storytime I can make another post with more detail).

And since at the time, I entered without even knowing about the void’s existence, I realize we here or tumblr really do overcomplicate it. Like the video I posted where the void is described as the midway point between wake and sleep - it really is that simple!

I’ve noticed now that whenever I wake up naturally (not getting woken up by an alarm, outside noise, or cat jumping on me) I do always seem to wake up in the void. It’s the same kind of experience, and I don’t hear anything, but my first natural instinct when I wake up is to wonder where the sounds of my environment are. So I end up tuning in to my room and snapping out of the void.

I guess I just have to train myself to make my first thought an affirmation for my desires instead of just wondering where the sounds are 😅 But regardless, now I know it’s absolutely real and possible for me, I know it’s only a matter of time until I figure it out!

#manifesting #about moi #void state

[harfblarf]

“Help my Cat” Scam Going Around

Have you received an ask in your inbox from an account that previously wasn’t following you, pleading for a signal boost on their vet-related post? I got one today, but something felt fishy. Or perhaps “phishy” is more accurate?

Here’s the ask:

Now a couple odd things right off the bat. This is a blog I’ve never seen or interacted with, who wasn’t following me prior to sending the ask, so I immediately wondered how they pulled my name to ask for help. And while the world in general is a shitshow, so I can sort of see why a person would default to saying it “isn’t the best time to ask for help”, they say it with such confidence without knowing me at all.

Odder still, from their posts-- which at least do look extremely normal and human-like, down to the mishapocalypse profile picture-- we don’t share any interests aside from... well. Cats.

The other odd thing is them specifically requesting I reply privately, through DM or a private answer. I wouldn’t think much of it except they’re already asking me to publicly share something on my blog; if I’m going to answer the ask, why can’t I do so publicly?

I scroll through their blog some more. Their pinned post is, indeed, asking for help with their cat:

Weirdly, though, an earlier version of this post uses a completely different name for the cat??

This is bizarre to me and my red flags are pinging louder. Maybe it’s innocuous, though, I mean, it could just be a nickname or something? Why would you change it though?

Also, the post’s ratio is weird-- 101 reblogs to 44 likes. I suppose not too shocking if they’re doing this use-an-ask-to-get-a-boost tactic widely, but the ratio is pretty extreme. I check the notes. Every single reblog with tags has some variation on ‘boost’ or ‘signal boost’; there are no comments. No one has mentioned knowing this person, no one has vouched for the legitimacy of the post... but two mention that they were asked to boost the post.

*EDIT: Per a polite anon, I will clarify that signal boost/boost tags themselves aren't a red flag; what bothered me was that the post's ONLY interaction history came from boosts from seeming strangers. An active fandom blog, active enough to think posting a plea for financial help might get traction, SHOULD have at least one or two mutuals or friends who are willing to push the post and vouch for its legitimacy. Because the only engagement was from people who had clearly been approached via ask, like me, I got the heebie jeebies.

Okay, I’m doubtful enough that I’m not comfortable boosting this post myself. But let me check one more thing.

I search google for the exact phrasing of the help-requested post.

Ah.

There’s well over a dozen blogs pulled up with this exact phrasing. Most of them use the name “Koppi” instead of either “Ashel” or “Biscuit”, but a few use “Ashel”. The oldest result, from 2016, uses “Ashel”; more commonly, these results are from 2022 or earlier this year and again, most say “Koppi”. Also interesting: basically none of these posts exist anymore. Google can identify the exact wording even beyond what I included in my search query using whatever demonic powers allow it to reference removed content, but they’ve clearly been deleted.

Additionally, which I clarify for those like me who attribute Google’s quirks to demonic powers rather than an actual understanding of how it works: if the dates didn’t make it clear, these aren’t the blogs in the notes of falesyorac’s post. I cross-referenced the names. It’s not pulling up those reblogs, so presumably the majority of these results at one time came from someone who drafted and posted the wording to their blog, not from reblogs.

Maybe it was once a real post, maybe it’s always been a scam, but evidently the content of the post has been stolen and recirculated at this point. Along the way I found this as well, an anon warning someone who must have reblogged a version of the scam post:

So this is at least partly confirmed as a scam from another source.

Please be wary, do your due diligence before you put your money anywhere, and block & report falseyorac. I’m not sure the nature of the falseyorac blog originally; it may have been a real account that got hijacked, it may be a very convincing fake, it may be a real person’s blog who is trying to to leverage their innocuous appearance to pull quick money with a beggar scheme. Regardless, it is evident there is not a genuine Ashel/Biscuit needing help today and that whoever holds the falseyorac account right now is trying to pull a scam.

One more thing-- one of those reblog’s tags I showed earlier.

I also have a tag for reblogs of cats. (It’s “cats”.) I suspect this is where this particular iteration of the scam is pulling its targets from-- after all, people who reblog cats enough to tag them must care about them, right?

Finally, I am tagging the people who reblogged falseyorac’s post with tags (there’s too many for me to do everyone who reblogged it at all) below the readmore-- if I messed up and tagged the wrong person and/or you want your name removed, please just contact me and ask. I want to make sure you can see this warning, but I’m happy to untag you if it bothers you for any reason.

@thislilfecker​ / @koreanbibliophilegirl / @kingminyard / @sss-shyshy / @shoutmonishere / @cleocatrablossy / @mothmansass / @aroanehring / @valkyrie-ellis / @jae-writes-fanfiction / @ninja-chibi / @iambecomeahamburger

(A few people’s names didn’t come up when I tried to tag them, so I wasn’t able to include them here, rip.)

#cats #scams #scam #cat #signal boost #warning #boost #mutual aid #community aid #community support #pet scam #donation scam #harf blarf blib blab #i spent too much time on this

[lesbianoms]

Hey guys. A few things.

I recently hit 350 followers!! Wanted to thank all of you for showing your love. When I started all this I was a bit worried because vore had always been a source of shame to me, but the kink community here is so nice and accepting!! So again, thank you.

And secondly, I wanted to talk about the future of this blog. More specifically, the “side” aspect of this sideblog. For those of you who don’t know, yes, this is a sideblog. No, I will not be sharing my main.

Lately it has been a slight source of anxiety for me that this is not its own separate, fully functional account. Mostly because I want my regular fandom content to be separate from my fetish content. I’m worried about if someone irl or from my main were to ever find this.

There are also times when I wanna take a break from kink writing and the like, and switching between two accounts would make this easier. Whenever I’m not feeling horny I always see kink stuff, even sometimes when I don’t want to, when browsing on my main. Sometimes eh… I don’t like it.

So the best solution for me may be to make a completely new Tumblr account for NSFW/kink stuff, instead of just having a sideblog.

I am a bit reluctant to make that switch though, since I’d have to reblog about 400 posts, and I still have wonderful submissions in my ask box I’ve yet to answer. That’s why I haven’t been as active in the last week(s).

Just wanted to let you guys know. I might start answering asks again today or tomorrow once my anxiety over someone I know finding this blog goes down, but I’ve definitely been thinking about making a new blog for a while.

#v.ore #v0re #vore blog #belly blog #nom’s thoughts #kink blog #blog related #important #minors dni