#this is. VERY different to what i usually post but

[joelsgreys]

flutter

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #fic: snapshots

[cheeseceli]

When you're rejected by your crush

Pairing: BTS ot7 × Gn!Reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, headcanons, just a bit of angst because you were rejected

Request: Hello! Can you please write headcanons for BTS (they have a crush on the reader) reacting to the reader being sad after finding out that her crush (a coworker or a friend) is in a relationship with someone else?

Warnings: none?

A/n: this was inspired by the "secret crush" series by @7ndipity a bit. If you do not allow this, please let me know and I'll delete this post right away!

Jin

Your friend

That's all Jin wants to be for you right now

Of course, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel at least an ounce of hope when you said that your friend, your crush, was now dating someone else

But at the same time, he'd hate to show interest in you when you're so vulnerable

So he settles in being only what you need right now: a shoulder to cry on

I believe he'd be the one to wait the longest to tell you how he feels, scared you're not on the same page just yet

Suga

His mind is a mess right now

Nothing breaks him more than seeing your eyes without its usual shine

But he had been praying for the day where you fall out of love with your co-worker

So he really doesn't know how to react right now

He chooses to listen to you talk about how you found out everything and about how you're feeling

Will try to forget his feelings and focus on being the best friend you could ask for now

But as soon as you feel better and your feelings for your past crush start to fade, he might try to make subtle moves on you, scared someone else could catch your attention again

J-hope

I see this going on a slightly different way

He found out about your crush's relationship before you

He just knew you'd be heartbroken

So he tries to let you down gently, saying that maybe the guy wasn't this big of a deal

But when the time comes and you're inevitably sad after finding out, he tries to comfort you as much as possible

Is very hesitant on being flirty right now though

Besides being sad, he'd hate for you to be confused because of him

Namjoon

Honestly, for a second he even forgot he liked you

His mind went blank the moment you texted him about how you were in need of comfort right now

Will fulfill his role as your friend and, before you even notice, you were already laughing through your tears at something he said

Just later that day that he realises what this can mean for your relationship

He finally had a chance now!

Waits for a while though, planning exactly what he wants to do

Jimin

He feels so bloody guilty and selfish right now

Because he's your friend! And you're sad right now!

He should be only focusing on how to make you happy again

But knowing that this means you'll have to eventually move on from your current crush just gives him so much hope

Obviously, he will try to hype you up

But as soon as he can, he will try to make you see him in a different light

Taehyung

Relief floods over him the moment you tell him the news

He was so scared of what could've happened if your crush were to reciprocate your feelings

He had to hold back his smile

Hangs out with you immediately to try to make you forget things for a while

Is already making a plan on how to confess

But for now he's focused on making you feel better

Even thanks your crush with literally no context at all

Jungkook

Deadass smiled when you told him about the situation 💀

Don't get him wrong, he's not happy because you're hurt!

He's happy because he might have a chance now

But he at least was able to hide (part of) his happiness in front of you lmao

And now he's 100% dedicated to make you smile again

He wasn't even that cool, you could find someone better than him anyways

Either way, he makes it his personal mission to distract you from that other guy and make you realise that maybe you're better off without him

And if he ends up being extra boyfriend material throughout it, it was purely a coincidence

Masterlist | you'll probably like: secret crush (by the author I mentioned in the a/n)

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#next post will be for the 1k event #celi headcanon #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts headcanons #bts angst #bangtan #jin #jin fluff #jin angst #namjoon #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #jhope fluff #jhope angst #hobi #suga #suga fluff #suga angst #jimin #jimin fluff #jimin angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts x reader

[erodasfishtacos]

Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]

summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped

word count: 5k

warnings: angst

author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)

You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here

+

Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.

They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.

Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.

Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.

The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.

While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.

After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.

Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.

YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.

She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.

YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.

It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.

YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.

YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.

Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.

Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.

YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.

YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.

+

YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.

It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.

There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.

Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.

Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.

She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.

YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.

“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.

“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.

“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.

YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”

“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”

“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”

“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.

“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.

“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.

“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.

And YN just…cannot relate.

YN only fell in love once.

Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.

It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.

“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.

As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”

Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.

However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.

+

The next few weeks blend together for YN.

Every few days she actually catches up on her work.

Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.

Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.

Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.

She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.

But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.

YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.

She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.

At least three months have passed since the doctor started.

And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.

“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.

“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”

This didn’t sound good.

YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.

“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”

Fancy.

And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.

Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.

YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?

The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.

YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.

It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.

YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.

Maybe Mitch would be the one.

YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.

Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.

YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.

It was all up in the air.

The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.

Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.

Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.

The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.

YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.

Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.

As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.

However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.

The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”

“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.

Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.

This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.

“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.

He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.

Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.

“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.

Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”

YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.

She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.

“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.

“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.

YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”

YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”

“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.

YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.

They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.

Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.

“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.

YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.

Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.

Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.

From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.

After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.

Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.

YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”

Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”

“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“

“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.

Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.

“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.

She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.

To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.

It works.

The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.

“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.

There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.

You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.

Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.

“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.

Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.

His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”

Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.

“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.

Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.

YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.

Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”

“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”

The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.

Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.

A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.

Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.

He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.

Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.

YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.

The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.

YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.

Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.

How boring.

When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.

Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.

However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.

His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.

YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.

Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.

When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for. 

It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.

YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.

She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck?

YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.

YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.

She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.

When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”

However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.

No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.

“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”

“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”

“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”

The awful thing is that YN wants him too.

“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.

The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.

“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.

“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.

“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.

“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.

Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.

His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.

Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.

He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.

“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”

Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”

YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.

She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.

+

ahhhhhhh.

let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?

😙😙😙

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic

[luvfy0dor]

Heyy, I was thinking about a concept with Fyodor (or whoever from BSD) having a streamer bf, but like, one of -those- streamers where every word they say can be quite questionable (in a “good” way/ironically). For some reason it amuses me to imagine it with Fyodor and Reader occasionally teasing him, calling him their ‘discord kitten’ or streaming for 5 hours (or more lol) saying nonsenses or playing video games instead of paying attention to Fyodor. What do you think?

“Get Off The Game ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu

Warnings;

Description; BSD men with a streamer!reader

A/n; these are in headcannon form, I hope that's alright!!! I think Dazai or Nikolai would be a better person to have this occupation w so I also did headcannons for one of them

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor thinks it's stupid at first, but when he realized you made money from it he learned to tolerate it. He wasn't too fond of the noise, though.

• I don't think he was too fond of the nickname 'discord kitten', always raising an eyebrow when he's called that, he also strongly dislikes brainrot cause what do you mean you're so sigma? No you're not, you're y/n. That's unrelated, but I thought I'd add that in there.

• "A discord what? Kitten? What even is that? I am nothing of the such."

• Catch him dead before he makes an appearance on camera, he much prefers to keep his business private. He doesn't mind you talking about him though, he loves that. He loves that people know you're already taken by him and that all those losers in your chat don't have a chance with you.

• Sometimes he'll watch your streams from a different room in attempt to understand your work and the art of gaming. He enjoys when you play horror games, especially the ones that get you thinking. He sometimes finds your facial expressions when you get jumpscared funnier than anything else in the stream.

• When it comes to the duration of your streams, Fyodor can entertain himself for as long as you need him to, but he can't help but feel like he'd rather be spending that time with you every now and again.

• He usually just takes the time to work on his DOA stuff, and occasionally he'll get so lost in it that he doesn't even realized you've finished with your stream and on whenever that happens, you make some tea and go to fetch him to spend some quality time together, whether it's you laying in his lap while you both read a book or having a conversation about whatever comes to mind

Dazai Osamu ★

• Dazai is your #1 supporter since day one. There's a conversation going on about content creators? He's immediately bringing you up. You need new items for your set up? He's manifesting that said items go on sale ASAP!

• Oh my god, and he LOVES it when you get recognized in public. He's very prideful of you and likes that it's only him and a select group of people that get to see the real you outside of the camera frame.

• He, unlike Fyodor, does have an issue with the long hours, so he busies himself with the ADA and otherwise to keep himself from walking in and talking your ear off while you play your games for umpteen thousand people.

• He doesn't despise being called a discord kitten, but it does confuse him a little bit. But whatever, as long as you have 'my' in front of any name he doesn't care.

• Dazai watches your old streams when he's bored and can't help but giggle at the out of pocket or questionable things you say. He likes to watch the compilations of you on YouTube, too.

• Sometimes he'll quote you out of the blue.

• He doesn't like people trying to flirt with you or talk to you on the Internet as any partner wouldn't, so he is in the comment section of every post reading through individual comments. Type guy to see '❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥' comments on your posts and reply '🧯🧯🧯'

• All in all, Dazai is well received by your fanbase, especially the ones who don't try to romance you and are normal. They think he's funny and a good match for you.

A/n; I hope it wasn't to short!!! I thought it was a cutsey idea, I think Nikolai would be pretty similar to Dazai in this scemario.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd headcanons #fanfic #fanfiction #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x you #fyodor x y/n #dostoevsky bsd #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor #osamu dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd dazai osamu #dazai osamu #dazai bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x you

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.

For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.

Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.

It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!

Hi!

"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.

In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.

It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.

Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.

Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.

The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.

"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."

This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?

"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."

This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.

This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.

I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #fetishization of disability

[shepscapades]

Hi there! Your dbhc au is lovely and I love it very much! Between base level knowledge of hermitcraft, base level knowledge of detroit: become human from rtgame’s playthrough, and extra extra headcannons about deviancy and all that that entails (I forgot androids can’t eat… the post-game au that I love and follow made it so that they could haha…) I love the way you’ve incorporated androids and deviancy to hermitcraft!!!! Not to mention how electric (pun intended) your art is!!!! <3

One question! Are we working with minecraft death mechanics (aka respawn)? What happens when the androids shut down, normally? It’s just a reboot them type of scenario?

(ignore how long I scrolled down your blog for uh haha… oooo you did not see the timestamps of the posts i reboggled ooo /j)

First of all!!! Thank you so much for your kind words!!! <3 Delighted to report that probably at some point doc and xisuma will develop some kind of way for the android hermits to have the option of eating food… I don’t really have any idea of when that happens in the timeline though LOL

The respawn mechanics question is super interesting!! the way I see it in my head, yes… yeah I think respawning is a thing, some kind of magical innate quality of the world I suppose, connected to whitelisted players/entities or what have you. Naturally, when Xisuma begins to “whitelist” deviated androids, it establishes them as players part of the world, the same way the other hermits are! I think in my brain, most respawns in general are inconsequential… in the way that players don’t necessarily retain scars when they die and respawn, unless it’s a particularly painful or meaningful death? That’s kind of how I’ve always seen respawning anyway!

So when it comes to the androids, I think when Xisuma whitelisted them/ reprogrammed them as player entities on the server, he also programmed a way for androids to detect… things that would normally do damage to biotic/ organic players, in a superficial “taking damage” sense? So while androids don’t necessarily feel… “pain,” they have a pain sensor/set of hearts like normal players that will “go down” the same way a normal player’s would. They aren’t completely removed from the damage, though, because I think Xisuma probably also works up some kind of system that would create similar “feelings” that a player might feel when taking damage? For example, as an android takes “damage,” it might trigger a certain fear, panic, or surprise response (such as up-ticks in thirium pump rate, a slight degradation in motility functions (like fumbling with motor skills when you’re nervous/panicking), or brief stalls in processing power (the same way you might hesitate in surprise)). So even if they don’t feel pain the same way, their experience would pretty closely mimic pain responses in humans/organic players!

The vessels themselves are harder to explain I suppose… such as a body being left behind on a server when a player can’t respawn, but you could probably explain the androids the same way you would explain other player respawn mechanics, like a body disappearing when a player “‘chooses to respawn,” stuff like that.

“Shutting Down” tends to be treated differently than dying or respawning, though. A shutdown is most similar to a permanent death, unless an android is voluntarily rebooting, in which case they would probably use the word “reboot” rather than shutdown. For sleeping or other “low-power” modes, androids kind of go into “low-function” states that have specific protocols and stuff like that, some kind of stasis state that xisuma or doc have programmed specifically to mimic sleep. Shutdowns usually only happen when an android loses the ability to function, somehow. Runs too low on thirium to function, self-destructs from stress, any other reason an android would stop working all together and require maintenance to turn back on. So when Etho shuts down at the end of s8 it’s because he doesn’t realize he has a been leaking thirium for so long and ends up not being able to function, and when Xisuma/Doc shut him down at the end of Destruction, it’s a force-shut down (you’ll see how soon enough LMAO).

THATS SUCH A LONG RAMBLE LOL but hopefully that answers your questions!! I’m gonna go back and start tagging posts like this with #dbhc mechanics for anyone who is curious about the application of androids on the server :]

#dbhc mechanics #dbhc ask #ask #listentothelittlebird #dbhc

[mysterycitrus]

Quick question about how you decide what comics to care about? When it comes to characterization?

I know there’s comics that are generally considered ooc and no one really incorporates them into their characterizations. (Eg: I skimmed All Star Batman and Robin for fun. I now understand why people call him Crazy Steve, and I’m obviously not going to be taking this particular iteration of Batman and Robin into account when characterizing them.) But other than these really obvious instances, how do you deal with it? Like, I know fans of pre-N52 comics avoided a lot of stuff during that time? But now that we’re in Rebirth? I know that characterization in comic fandoms is always a bit thorny because of comic books as a medium, with all those different writers, timeline resets, etc… But you seem to have a really good handle on that, cause whenever I read any of your stuff and then read a comic, I’m usually like, yeah, same person here. Which I think is a feat! So, do you sort on vibes? Writers? Another metric? Case by case? TLDR: How do you deal when a character canonically says/does something that makes you go, “he would not fucking say that?”

Love your blog! And your writing!!!! Thank you!!!!!

ahh, crazy steve. what a guy (derogatory)

hmmmmmm for me personally if im writing a character i generally identify a “core” comic, regardless of retcons or conflicting characterisation, and then go off that. im reading a lot of bart allen atm so i focused on mark waid and todd dezago and completely ignored everything geoff johns has done with the character. for dick, scott snyder and judd winick are kinda the benchpoint for me, and then i kinda pick and choose (from wolfman, dixon, higgins, etc) what i think fits with that character. jason is easy cause he’s only had two comics worth anyone’s time. weirdly, some of roys best comics are written by devin grayson. so on and so forth.

wrt “he wouldn’t fucking say that” disease of which i am a chronic sufferer, I look back on dick (as an example) and his legacy characterisation, and whether or not it would make sense. not all legacy characterisation is good, mind!! but it’s generally easier to get a good benchmark if u go off a period when writers weren’t terminally on twitter. a lot of it is case by case, and i just map that in my brain

idk like SO much of it is just vibes and trying to create some internal consistency. like u said — there is so much conflicting characterisation and plotting and events that it can be very difficult so u just kinda have to trust ur own intuition. when i first posted persephone and got positive feedback for how i wrote dick I was kinda surprised — cause how i write him tends to clash with his popular depiction in both fandom and many modern comics. ig my real advice if ur writing (or reading) about these characters is to not fear complexity, and be conscious of exactly how racist most comic writers are.

#so sweet!!! but yeah comics can be whack #never fear conflicting characterisation !!! pick ur own adventure!! #Dick grayson #nightwing #dc comics #Batman #the ask and the answer

[normal-paldean-student]

Muse Mixup Madness—May 1, 2024

hello, one and all, and welcome to our very delayed prompts post! this should be the last time prompts are this late, since i've added reminders in my calendar now.

like i said before, this month there's going to be reruns. specifically, i'm going to be taking the most popular prompts from february and march to offer up again. so without further ado! all prompts are low fantasy.

1. What Once Went Wrong

This and What Once Went Right were originally one prompt, but given how different they are in practice I've decided to divide them into two. For this one, you'll be envisioning what your character's life would be like if an unfortunate event in their past either didn't happen or turned out in their favor.

2. What Once Went Right

Both sides of the coin are here today, but in the future you'll usually only be seeing one of this prompt and What Once Went Wrong. This one's the exact opposite of its twin: take a time in your character's life that worked out well or where they succeeded at something, and find out what would have happened if things hadn't ended so nicely.

3. The Road Not Taken

Decisions, decisions! Everyone's made them, and everyone's path in life has been forever altered by them. Pinpoint a critical choice your character once made, and see who they'd have become if they'd chosen a different option.

4. Home On The Range

We do have one new prompt, though it's a very different style from the other three! In the Pokémon Ranger games, people and Pokémon have a somewhat different relationship. What would your character be like if they were from one of those regions?

#muse mixup madness #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #pokemon irl #pokeblog rp

[sgiandubh]

Lallybroch: copyright vs. trademark

An excellent question was asked by our friend @rosfrank in the comments thread to 'The door faces North' post and given the cosmic amount of uninformed bullshit being ventilated for almost ten years in this fandom, I think it's time to answer it once and for all:

Whenever we are informally talking about 'owning the rights to something', I think it's very important to bear in mind a fundamental distinction between two different categories of ownership rights: copyright and trademark.

The copyright is the most familiar one to many of you. It is what you usually find on those annoying and apparently useless first or last pages of all the printed or digital editions on this planet. Something like this:

In the US, copyright issues are regulated by the Copyright Act of 1976, as included in Title 17 of the US Code. The US public authority competent for registering and managing copyright is, as predictable, the US Copyright Office.

Perhaps the most seminal US Supreme Court decision, as far as copyright is concerned, is the 1991 Feist Publications, Inc., v. Rural Telephone Service Co. In it, the Court ruled that mere compilations of information or facts (such as, for example, telephone books) are not protected by copyright, according to US law. In other words, the ancient legal concept of 'sweat of the brow' (which simply means the amount of work required to gather and compile those facts/information) is not enough to qualify a work for copyright protection, if no creative effort is added to enhance its content. This is why I have always considered absolutely ridiculous Marple's efforts to watermark public information screenshots: it is useless (to the extent that it legally protects her from nothing) and, as her timelines, a mere compilation of facts (legally ditto). A similar approach is preferred by the UK and also by many Roman law legal systems, such as the French one - just making things clearer, here, by the way.

See how 'Erself is roughly doing, right now, in this department:

But I am rambling. In my view, Lallybroch, as a pivotal concept used in Diana Gabaldon's books, is protected by the copyright granted to each and every of her books mentioning it, according to the Roman law principle 'accessorium sequitur principale' (the accessory follows the principal). So it will remain protected for at least 70 years since the last of her books mentioning it would have been published under copyright. Unless she chooses to separately protect the entire finished cycle as a whole, once Book Ten (fingers crossed) is published, preferably during our foreseeable lifetimes.

That being said, that goes only for one copyright category: (published) text - you cannot copyright that secret diary in your drawer, LOL. This is why, the current US Copyright Office records concerning Lallybroch look like this:

Sony Pictures Television Inc owns the copyright to the fictional name Lallybroch in the motion pictures category, as it is the title of the Episode 12, in Season 1 - DG has been handsomely compensated for this, no worries. And someone I have no idea about owns the rights to an original musical score she has written and titled Lallybroch in the music category, since October 2013.

Onwards to the trademark. This is something different and this is all about making your name/concept/idea profitable. It is all about branding it, putting it on a product and selling it under that brand. It includes all the graphic elements and the logo of the brand (accessorium...) - in short, its visual identity to the consumers. In the US, trademark issues are regulated by the 1946 Lanham Act and the public competent authority is the good old US Patent and Trade Office (USPTO).

Right now, the situation for the Lallybroch trademark is as follows:

So, we see three different trademarks: two of them, owned by Diana Gabaldon, are classified as 'dead' (cancelled and/or abandoned) and the third, Lallybroch Spirits, owned by S's Great Glen Company is pending approval - he will not be able to label any booze bottle Lallybroch Drink Me before permission is granted by the USPTO.

Let's unpack:

Both Lallybroch trademarks formerly owned by Diana Gabaldon were filed at the USPTO on February 21, 2000 and granted on December 12, 2000. The first was aimed at producing 'tartan fabrics for the manufacturer of clothing' and it was abandoned in December 2003:

The reason is that the owner did not file in any Statement of Use after the trademark was granted. She had three years to do so, and since she chose not to do anything about it, the trademark was deemed abandoned (Stacy K. Smith is the attorney hired by Herself, btw). That means she specifically implied not to intend using it in the future. As such, she may claim NO rights on a now free to use mark:

The second trademark was aimed at producing 'clothing, namely, t-shirts, dresses and headwear' and also 'jewelry, namely, rings, pins and necklaces'- to cut the story short: OL merchandise - and it was cancelled on March 1st, 2013:

The reason is that the owner did not file the Section 8 declaration (of continuous use for five years) within the allowed legal timeframe (6 months after the fifth anniversary of the trademark granting renewal). Her trademark federal rights are now deemed canceled (but not her state law and/or common law rights!) and if she wants to ever use that name again, she would have to start the whole process over, bearing in mind the trademark could have been granted to someone else, in the meanwhile (not her case).

And for anyone who might ask, 'Erself does not own any other trademarks whatsoever:

The other (Doll Lab - LOL for ages) Diana Gabaldon is a pharmacist from Albuquerque, NM. Chill. 🤣🤣🤣

The owner of the copyright to the fictional toponym Lallybroch, as far as published text is concerned, is Diana Galabdon.

The owner of the copyright to the fictional toponym Lallybroch, as far as motion pictures are concerned, is Sony Pictures Television Inc.

The owner of the copyright to the fictional toponym Lallybroch, as a personal work of music, is Mrs. Kelly Ruth Davis, of Pennsylvania, USA.

The owner of the Lallybroch Spirits trademark will be Sam Roland Heughan, when that trademark is granted by the USPTO.

I hope this answers your question, @rosfrank. Thank you for asking.

#fandom #shitshow #boozewars #business #legal

[butch-reidentified]

if you think agp is a thing(and presumably exclusive to trans women) what do you think of cis women claiming to masturbate in front of mirrors and CIA women who report being aroused by breastfeeding?

literally every single answer to these questions is available on my blog. I'm tired of writing the same posts over and over and over. if you can't find sufficient answers scrolling my blog, searching key words on my blog (or on google citing my blog, which yields better results oftentimes), going through the links in my pinned, or checking the tags referenced in my pinned, then I'd say if it's reeeeally important to you to get answers, your best bet will be to sit tight and occasionally check for updates to my Pinned as I am gradually adding more and more links detailing my views, and/or skim my blog from time to time - it's pretty much guaranteed to cycle through again within a month at most 🤷

I was actually gonna put a partial (that is to say, just not my usual thorough, detailed, and nuanced) answer at the beginning, but honestly I'm getting VERY tired of anonymous strangers who most likely just stumbled across my blog for the first time today thinking they're entitled to a personalized thinkpiece from me when almost every time I get an ask like this (which are distinctly different from good faith curiosities, which I'm more than happy to answer), I've already posted my answer, I've already written about the subject in depth on my blog. so I'll put my answer below instead so you have to read all of the above first, so you at least sort of vaguely kinda earn some response by putting in a miniscule fraction of the work/time I've put into both reading/informing myself about all sorts of different opinions, ideologies, experiences, perspectives, and views (rather than just demanding opinions from strangers on anon, lmao) and writing countless posts (& that's just on here, ignoring the offline side which is where I'm wayyy more active), which are almost always VERY long and detailed and proofread and edited and polished several times over.

btw, kind of a side note -- I have NEVER sent a single anon in my life, and I have NEVER, anonymously or not, demanded someone give me a personalized just-for-me explanation of their opinions (or any at all). the reason I call this entitlement is because you (most likely) aren't asking out of genuine curiosity or good faith. you (most likely) are asking because you dislike what you think my views are (you are most likely misinformed and think I believe things I do not) and you (most likely) think this is some kind of gotcha rather than the same ignorant, unoriginal, boring ass points that I've read countless times as far back as when I was a transactivist and trans-identifying myself. they've been debunked/responded to by a LOT of other women, too, and I'm very confident you could easily find at least one such response. I'm not holding you to a standard I don't also hold myself to; in fact, that I'm going to give you any degree of actual answer at all is demonstrative of my holding myself to a HIGHER standard. because again, nothing I'm about to say on this topic is just now in this post being born into the universe as a novel thought. or even a novel tumblr post; like I said, you could find the radfem answers to this ask yourself with just a tiny bit of effort - and while radfems are far from a monolith, and I am a frequent vocal dissenter on a variety of radblr hot topics, this isn't even really a matter of opinion. read on to find out why.

Part A - Not answering the questions here per se, but a clarification of terminology that may help you (any reader, not necessarily anon) see my perspective:

The word "cis" has different definitions. It used to mean someone who is not trans, whereas trans referred to sex-dysphoric transitioners, a demographic who now often prefer terms like transsexual or transsex or simply "sex-dysphoric" BECAUSE they don't agree with gender identity ideology (GII) and object to the way GII has been actively hostile to them and erased transsexuality (and thus their identities, needs, beliefs, and experiences as well), similarly to the ways in which GII engages with pretty much everything that isn't complete and total blind allegiance. These include but are far from limited to:

1. Obfuscating people's (especially children's/young adults' - as they are the primary consumers of most GII content by far) understanding of biology, particularly as it pertains to the sexes of human beings and sexual dimorphism, and inserting "gender identity" as a direct (but importantly not synonymous or remotely parallel) replacement for the material and biological reality of sex. Sex, absent patriarchy and the gender construct, is simply a neutral and factual categorization of human beings: sex categorizes human body types according to the two developmental pathways that evolved solely for the purpose of producing one gamete type or the other to enable perpetuation of the species via sexual reproduction. What this statement does NOT imply to anyone reading it with even an ounce of integrity/intellectual honesty: "women are defined by having babies," "infertile/childfree adult female humans are not women," "humans with anomalous sexual development of any variety are not male or female, but rather a 3rd sex or even proof sex is a spectrum," or anything along these lines; I refer to these arguments as intellectually dishonest because they are originally intentional (disinformation -> misinformation) misinterpretations & serve to moralize, dogmatize, and essentially theologize facts of nature.

This obfuscation of biology is committed via a variety of tactics that frequently include outright gaslighting; "gender and sex are different" turned into "sex is actually a spectrum" (it's not - read on to learn why not!) and then outright science denial while gaslighting others as being the unscientific, uneducated, "3rd grade understanding of biology" ones (again, this is simply factually not true*).

*Feel free to request to see a peer-reviewed neuroscience journal publication bearing my name and/or my thesis (original research regarding the overlapping genetics + epigenetics of norepinephrine dysregulation in both dysautonomia and attention deficit disorders) if you are skeptical of my credentials regarding biology. alternatively, feel free to cite your sources and I will provide a free-of-charge peer review service :)

2. Building from #1, the erasure of patriarchal sex-based oppression of women & girls (by definition: human beings of the female sex, adults & children respectively) via aforementioned tactics obfuscating sex biology & human biology in favor of an innate, internal "gender identity" which is extremely poorly defined with the individual "gender identities" themselves left utterly non-delineated. Gender identity ideology is to be taken entirely on pure faith, despite the fact that there is absolutely no evidence to support gender identity as a universal component of human beings/universal human experience. In fact, the existence of absolutely any nonzero quantity of human beings who do not experience gender identity firmly disproves it as universal human experience - and we know not all humans have a gender identity. However, every human being experiences sexual development, be it typical, disordered (DSDs, congenital infertility, etc), or otherwise anomalous; the vast majority experience typical sexual development, and one's sex is entirely clear in the vast majority of atypical cases as well. Female humans are oppressed on the basis of our biological reproductive capabilities; patriarchy desires control over the female sex as a direct product of its desire to control reproduction. Patriarchy created the gender construct to instill and enforce a caste system between the sexes upholding the patriarchal dogma of male supremacy and female inferiority. Similarly, patriarchy created father-gods in order to make the creation of life a male act. Erasure of sex in favor of the gender construct serves male supremacy and cannot ever be anti-patriarchal or feminist. Evidence of sex based oppression abounds offline (frankly, you need look no further than menstruation stigma in all its forms up to and including menstrual huts, but there is infinitely more evidence) and right here on my blog as well; I even have some posts tagged to serve as proof of sex based oppression.

3. Erasing homosexuality via working toward erasure of exclusive same-sex attraction (this is particularly targeted at lesbians, and this is VERY well documented. I have many examples of this in my TRA Receipts tag, including a particularly excellent masterpost containing, in total iirc THOUSANDS of screenshots), once again replacing sex with "gender identity" as if one's orientation being defined as attraction to another human's invisible, internal, and highly individual "gender identity," which not all humans even purport to have in the first place, could possibly make any sense. This is uniquely absurd.

As stated in the 2nd link in #1 on my Pinned, I object to the usage of "cis" for non-trans-identifying people. Why? At the core of it, because the most commonplace definition of "cis"/'cisgender" that I see at this point in time is "having a gender identity that aligns with what was assigned at birth." As stated above, gender identity is not universal, rendering "cisgender" equally as personal and internal of an identity label as "transgender" - and these are not a pure dichotomy by any means. Radical feminism does not grant any degree of objective factual legitimacy to the gender construct; thus, no radical feminist is or can be, by definition, transgender or cisgender (this does not carry over to whether or not radfems can have dysphoria or even be medically transitioned). Radfems are not the only humans without "gender identities," and it is dishonest and disrespectful to force the term/label onto everyone else according to an ideology we/they may not share.

Part B - The Long-Awaited Answer! [I changed my mind since this ended up significantly longer than initially planned so here ya go]

Autogynephilia was coined as a term with a specific definition. That definition is still the same one in use today. That definition explicitly states that only males can qualify. That definition is: "a paraphilia that describes when a man experiences sexual arousal from the thought of himself as a woman" per Google, and "a male's propensity to be sexually aroused by the thought of himself as a female" per Blanchard's original stated intention for the term he created. Wikipedia goes on to add "intending for the term to refer to 'the full gamut of erotically arousing cross-gender behaviors and fantasies.'"

I have many criticisms of Blanchard himself and of the quality of his research methodologies. However, the evidence for the existence of the paraphilia itself is abundant and undeniable given that many males outright refer to themselves as autogynephiles and many have openly discussed their experiences as someone with this paraphilia. What I do not believe is that all trans-identifying males are AGPs, that there is proven legitimacy to the HSTS/AGP dichotomy (even Blanchard himself said not all OSA trans-identifying males are AGPs - just a whole lot of them), or that non-trans-identifying males can't be AGPs - actually I think it's likely that most AGPs don't identify as transgender.

The core of the paraphilia, the source of the arousal, is a product of the patriarchal sex caste system; autogynephiles are aroused by the idea of themselves as women - as they themselves have stated - because of the sexual objectification of femaleness and/or because they're aroused by degradation and humiliation (as is blatantly obviously on brilliant display in the existence of and obsession with "forced feminization" and similar female-degrading sexual concepts), and the AGP male views femaleness and the gender that patriarchy has forcibly ascribed to femaleness ("femininity") as inferior and thus sees his engagement in performing femininity as degrading - which in turn sexually excites him.

One reason some women find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states is the same as when men find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states: self-confidence increases libido and associations can be made between A and B. Where women and men inevitably differ, however, is about the arousal surrounding performing femininity and/or sexual self-objectification. It is not at all unreasonable to speculate that some women can be turned on when they "feel hot" for a reason other than just self-confidence; for one speculative example, it's possible that some women may see herself in the mirror all dressed up in hypersexualized clothing and feel that they've succeeded in mirroring the pornified images and sexually-appealing-to-males beauty expectations. Ultimately, this is self-objectification. It's patriarchy and the male gaze that have forced these associations onto all of society, and hypersexual associations have a tendency of causing sexual arousal in people (duh).

Oh and I've never heard of women being aroused by breastfeeding, only complaining about it being painful asf, but like. Nipples are among the most common and well-documented non-genital erogenous areas so? This seems terribly unlikely to be a common phenomenon, but utterly irrelevant to the existence of autogynephilia regardless lol. If this is a thing, like I said I doubt it's commonplace at all, but even just hypothetically, I'd say it would distinctly fall in line with everything else I say in this answer. Patriarchy and its pornographers have indeed sexualized breastfeeding - there are a concerning number of men who ask their partners NOT TO BREASTFEED their babies - his own children! - because it makes him JEALOUS and even resent the baby. I'm dead serious you can look this up, it happens. So... read on for elaboration.

I neither know nor care precisely what you're referencing in this ask, because the answer remains the same: autogynephilia by definition can only affect males, and males who have a fetish for the idea of themselves as female, be that through imagining themselves Fucked (anatomically female, specifically in a sexually objectified - aka Fucked - manner; the anatomical/biological form of autogynephilia fetishizes the male subject imagining himself as the female Fucked object of pornography) or Feminine (as discussed above) fundamentally are not and cannot be the same as women who are turned on by feeling like they look sexually appealing or by their own natural anatomy or biological functions (which have been violently hypersexualized by patriarchy). This is a form of internalized misogyny; when men do it, it's just misogyny. These are not the same.

#mine #ask #anon ask #anon #radblr #long post

[tactfullyinappropriate]

This is part rant, part sex advice so read at your own discretion. Also one of those posts I'll get a lot of flak for.

In lesbian nsfw content on tumblr dot com one of the most prevalent sentiments is 'I want to pleasure my partner' (insert any variation on it) which is fair and all, and there are a lot of service tops around so it makes sense really. But. For some of us who have difficulty experiencing orgasm or even enjoying sex at all, making our pleasure the focal point of the experience is the absolute worst thing you could do.

It's a nice sentiment, I guess, but if it doesn't actually produce pleasure, is it really that nice? And before you come at me with 'some people really are just service tops and they get their pleasure from pleasuring their partner' - I get it, I do. As a top (or dom/me) you have the right to your preferences and you may absolutely refuse to tell your partner 'Your orgasm is inconsequential, I'm gonna fuck you anyway'. Not to mention that approach is verging on kinky and getting near mindfuck territory, which not every top (as in the person doing the penetration in this case) is comfortable with. Heck, not every dom/me is comfortable with that either - pretending to disregard your partner's pleasure can be a particular flavor of kink not everyone is into.

Buuut.. a lot of what I'm seeing here comes across more as a lack of real-world experience rather than a self-aware preference to focus on your partner's pleasure. Like for example, the amount of 'overstimulation' posts I'm seeing is just wildly disproportionate compared to the amount of women who can be forced to orgasm again and again, and again. This has never been my experience on either side of the dynamic, nor the experience of any of my friends or acquaintances. More often than not, women have trouble reaching a climax and can't really be "forced" into it.

Orgasms are not just a bodily sensation triggered by a certain type of mechanical stimulation. They require you to be in the right headspace as well. So if you actually want to bring about an orgasm, dropping the pressure may be (I want to say usually is) your best bet.

Look, I get it. I've been with women who come from a 2-minute clit rub. I didn't feel particularly accomplished with them... but they do exist! How wonderful for them and the people who just love pleasuring them. The rest of us however? 'Your pleasure is my pleasure' is the worst approach with us. Like, thanks, now if I don't come not only am I bruising your ego but also diminishing your pleasure? That's A LOT of pressure put on my fickle mental focus and unreliable vagina.

All of this is to say: it's fine to have your fantasies of overstimulating a partner to the point of incoherence. But be prepared that the reality of sex may be very, very different depending on how your partner's body and mind work. And sometimes, if your partner's pleasure really is that important to you, pretending it's the complete opposite might be the key to the castle - if you can get with that of course. Nothing's done a better job at helping me let go and experience actual pleasure than a partner's response to my 'I'm not sure if I can come though...':

"That's okay, baby. I don't need you to come for me to enjoy your body."

Um. Yes, Sir.

*I use the word 'woman' here purely based on my actual real-life experience so far but I'm sure this is applicable to a number of different identities. Even for some cis men orgasms are not as easy and effortless as porn makes it seem, I've been told.

#claudia says #wlw ns/ft #wlw bd/sm #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #sapphic ns/ft #sapphic nsft #sapphic bd/sm #sapphic ns/fw #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #stone butch #butch lesbian #butchfemme #butch dyke #butch #butch4femme #femme lesbian #high femme #butchfemme nsft

[ididntknowwhattocallthis]

Ok I wanna talk about Ethari's clothing/design over all. His clothes and tattoos are different from every other Moonshadow elf we've seen, and he's one of the few that doesn't wear braids. Like:

The recurring elements are intricate patterning; over layers and under layers; multiple colors in the same garment (or at least same outfit); wraparound construction, color contrast between mediums, lights, and darks; and the dominant color is always the medium, never the lightest or darkest color (usually navy, true black is very rare outside of the assassins). Even arc 2 Rayla follows most of these rules and she's been away from her culture for two years!

But then we have Ethari:

He doesn't have an outer layer, he wears almost solid navy, none of those clothes are wraparound, he has no light color, there's not a lot of contrast, and his dark color is true black despite not being an assassin. He bends all the rules, though he only breaks one completely. He still has that patterning, but it's minimal compared to the others. He has plenty of accent colors, more than anyone else actually, but they show up on him far less. He does have light, medium, and dark colors, but his whole pallet is darker than everyone else's. The only rule he 100% breaks is the wraparound construction

A lot of this probably derives from the fact that he's a metalsmith:

For the most part his clothes quite are practical;

Black/navy hides coal dust/soot very well. It gets everywhere, on your pants and face especially, and is highly visible on just about every other color.

Forging is hot work & you do it next to a fire that needs to be at least 1000° celsius, I never wear more than one layer either.

those sleeves, while a bit looser than I'd be comfortable with, probably aren't going to get in the way. Plus I heard somewhere that they're spelled to repel heat (couldn't find if that's actually canon tho), so if that's true they're much better than my gloves.

The crop top isn't great but he's got that belt to stop most embers. Besides he's probably not the type to yelp every time one lands on him like I am.

if he pulls the scarf over his mouth & nose it'll help delay him getting lung cancer in the death trap of a smithy Wonderstorm designed for him (my problems with it are a post all on their own. I have nothing against the artists, its pretty, but by all rights he should be dead)

There might also be a cultural aspect to his clothing:

I think the navy blue, the arm bands, the boot decorations, and his belt & tabard could all be symbols that mean "I am a metalsmith" in Moonshadow culture. (Quick side note, he's not technically a blacksmith. historically blacksmith means specifically iron workers. If anything he's a whitesmith since he usually works with silver.) We see it with the assassins, why not metalsmiths too?

Plus if you take a look at his forge in the art book, there's a design carved on it that looks almost exactly like the one on his tabard. Elements of it also appear on other parts of his clothing:

I suspect that this is some sort of symbol for metal working or fire protection. If he's in a guild it could be their symbol, or it could just be a wider cultural symbol. Either way it has a meaning that relates to the forge specifically. I couldn't find it anywhere else in the room.

I just realized that I never even brought up the metal hems on his sleeves. Then again what is there to say? It's metal, he's a metalsmith. It's pretty, he likes pretty things.

But what about the rule he completely breaks?

As I said, every moonshadow garment has some sort of wrap-and-secure construction to it-- except Ethari's clothes. I seriously doubt this is a metalsmith thing. Basic garment construction isn't a sensible way to differentiate your group within one culture. I fully believe Ethari is doing this on purpose. But why? That why gets even bigger when you realize that no other moonshadow elves we've met have brown eyes or periwinkle blue tattoos.

Put a pin in all that, I need to explain my interpretation of Moonshadow culture for this to make sense.

"Moon Primal creatures can be private and secretive, and are keenly aware of the power of appearances." - from the official website

"Moonshadow Elves obey a rather rigid, honor-driven culture." - from the wiki

To me this paints a picture of a fairly collectivist culture. They place a heavy emphasis on community and duty, two things that are usually more peaceful/simpler when you have cohesion within the group. Cohesion creates less conflict, less conflict makes your community more peaceful and your duty to it easier to complete.

But they know that this cohesion is- to an extent- only an act, so each person has a sub community where they don't have to act. Your inner self is for family and friends close enough to be family. (I honestly think they might have some sort of ritual to formally adopt friends as family) To everyone else you're supposed to put up a front that makes you seem more like everyone else.

OK back to the pin

Even without his clothes, Ethari is already visually different from everyone else. No other Moonshadow elves we've seen have tattoos or eyes the same color as his. It's a subtle difference but it is noticeable, and in a culture so focused on appearances people would notice. Most people's instinct would be to try to hide or downplay it, to prop up that front as much as they can. Yet Ethari doesn't put up a front, not to the extent that most people seem to. He's even accentuating his differences by dressing in a different style than them- and he's respected.

In my comm class the other day we were talking about groups, and one of the things that came up was that cohesion fosters sameness and diversity fosters innovation. Ethari is an innovator, it's literally his job. He invents the wingalings in bloodmoon huntress, Runaan and Rayla's weapons, and probably a bunch more stuff we haven't seen. Maybe for all they value appearances and fitting in, moonshadow culture still recognizes that people like him are important and they aren't as effective when they have to fit in. They can't be too out there (remember, Ethari only bends the rules rather than breaking them) but as long as they stay within a certain radius of the norm they can gain a lot of respect. I think this is what Ethari has done. The fact that his family (Runaan, Tiadrin, Lain) are all pretty traditional probably helped a lot. They keep him from pushing too hard on the edge of the box and he keeps them flexible.

That they aren't there anymore has probably exacerbated the rift between him and the rest of the silvegrove caused by Rayla's ghosting and whatever news has reached them from the storm spire.

I am so excited to see him in S6. I thought about adding some speculation about what his new design might look like, but I honestly don't think he'll have changed that drastically aside from his hair. My biggest question is honestly whether or not he's still in The Silvergrove.

Bonus:

I bet that some of Ethari's relative weirdness rubbed off on Rayla. She didn't have many friends as a kid so, when she wasn't in school or with the assassins, it makes sense that hung out with Ethari a lot. Since he's less strict than Runaan she was probably only comfortable completely unmasking with him. He heard about all her crushes, fears, and insecurities that Runaan didn't. Which goes a long way to explaining why Ethari was the only one who could see she wouldn't be a good assassin; she was hiding those traits from everyone but him.

This also explains some of why he was so willing to believe that she ran away. Ethari saw all of her vulnerability, but he didn't see all of her strength. While she was out training and facing her fears with Runaan, Ethari was in the smithy and only heard about their exploits after the fact. Neither of them saw all of who Rayla is, but both of them thought they did and had to find out that they were wrong in just about the most heartbreaking way imaginable.

#this started as me going “how actually practical are Ethari's clothes?” while I was forging that touchmark stamp #and spiraled out of control from there #also we're ignoring Redfeather because a) she was ghosted b) I didn't remember she existed when I started this #ethari #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp ethari #tdp meta #character analysis #rayla #tdp rayla

[aurumacadicus]

i'm not sure if tumblr is lying to me or not about when you responded to my ask but i only just got the notification for it, so. if you're still doing the 1-161 stony ficlet challenge, can i request 123 if that one hasn't also been taken? ps i'm really loving the ones you've posted so far, they're great! <3

Thanks! It's been a lot of fun!

--

Steve grit his teeth as Tony carefully, casually prodded his thigh with the toe of his left foot again. They were fighting, and he couldn't tell if this was an olive branch or a deliberate attempt to make him lose his cool.

They didn't fight often. They argued a lot, of course. He and Tony both had very strong personalities, and they also had very strong opinions. More difficult still, Steve was from a different time, and while he'd made great strides in acclimating himself to the time (and while Tony had been very patient as he learned) some things he said and believed still had them butting heads sometimes.

Tony prodded his thigh again, and Steve sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He would not give Tony the satisfaction of reacting.

"I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention," Tony finally declared, prodding him again.

"We are fighting and I'm still mad at you," Steve answered curtly, looking back down at his book. He figured that was attention enough, with the mood he was in and their fight still hovering at the edges of their conversations.

The ball of Tony's foot stayed pressed to his thigh a moment longer before he slowly drew it back. "Oh. Sorry."

Steve slanted his gaze over at that, brows furrowing together at the tone of Tony's voice. It was the one he used when he knew he'd misstepped but didn't understand why. He looked genuinely upset before his emotional shutters came back down as he returned his gaze to his tablet. He pulled his feet in closer, tucking himself tighter into the corner of the couch.

Steve watched him, considering, then carefully asked, "We... are still fighting, aren't we?"

"Of course. Obviously," Tony scoffed, prodding at his screen a little harder than he usually might.

Steve waited a beat, but Tony didn't plow on like he usually did when he was angry. He'd had no problem shouting for hours yesterday, but Steve had no doubt he'd come up with new things to shout if he was still very upset. He cast around his mind for what Tony's sudden change in heart and remembered, frowning, that Colonel Rhodes had huffed out a frustrated, 'well, his parents never apologized to each other, at least not in front of him, so he thinks fights just stop eventually and you carry on as usual.'

Tony must have just been... ready for things to carry on as usual. Steve set his book in his lap and sighed again, tipping his head against the back of the couch. He'd been the second one to sit down on the couch. Tony must have thought that was an olive branch. And maybe it had been, he realized, turning to look at Tony again. Maybe, unconsciously, he'd been ready to end the fight, too. But not like Tony wanted, where they simply stopped talking about it and returned to life as normal.

"I'm sorry," Steve said, because he was. His ma always said it took two people to fight, after all.

Tony prodded at his tablet a couple more times, then turned his head a little, peering at him out of the corner of his eye. "...For what?" he finally asked, skeptical.

"For fighting," Steve answered simply. He'd learned early on that if he said too much, Tony would have more to read into.

Tony turned his head away, then looked back at him, eyes narrowed. "...I'm... sorry... too," he finally said, slowly, like he was waiting for Steve to spring some sort of trap after each word.

It hurt a little, Steve could admit to himself. But luckily, he'd learned that it wasn't his own shortcomings as a boyfriend that caused Tony to be suspicious of something he thought was a good thing; the lists of people who had hurt Tony in the past were all available online, after all. Not necessarily under that label, but Steve was pretty good at reading between the lines.

And it was a step in the right direction, Steve figured. Acknowledging their wrongs to each other was certainly better than just letting them go unsaid. They could have a discussion about it later, when the hurt wasn't so fresh and they had time to decompress.

Until then, Steve reached out to grab Tony's ankle and drag his leg back out, and Tony squawked as he was pulled across the cushions. "C'mere."

"Brute!" Tony howled, trying to claw his way back across the couch, but Steve's grip on his leg was immovable. "Stop fucking dragging me everywhere you want me, you neanderthal, I--"

"You what?" Steve asked, flipping him easily, and immediately dug his thumbs into Tony's arch, exactly where he knew Tony got sorest. Tony let out a moan, and Steve knew he had won, at least for the moment.

#aurumacadicus answers #daeshikoba #1-161 stony ficlet challenge #stony

[very-straight-blog]

I want to join the fandom discourse a little bit, @st-eve-barnes inspired me huh. Sooo... In my blog, I try to avoid drama as much as possible - I quite rarely talk about the blacks in general, never discuss TB blogs and don't argue with their authors. The description of my blog clearly states what it's dedicated to and I put the right tags under the posts. My main goal is to create a cozy and safe space for people who read me, who love the same characters as me and agree with my opinion. However, even this doesn't save my blog - I regularly receive hate asks, TB fans who want to argue come in comments, my posts are often discussed in TB blogs, usually with insults. I really don't understand what these people's problem is - obviously they take this fandom VERY seriously. They don't understand the difference between characters and real people, and that scares me. If you're ready to bully a real person because of their taste for those who don't even exist, it's scary. Touch the grass.

#house of the dragon #hotd #team green #pro team green #anti team black #fandom discourse

[worldunbent]

a difference between the experience of reading the natsuyuu manga and watching the anime which is only interesting to me is that there's no distinction between special chapters and regular ones in the anime. the reason i find that interesting is that the specials are, so far in my reread, the only chapters that spend any time completely outside of natsume's POV. when we see other characters' perspectives in regular chapters, it's typically part of an extended monologue or a memory being transmitted to natsume, so we're still not really leaving his perspective. the only times we leave his POV are when he's physically not present in a scene, and in those instances we usually don't get any narration or interior monologue from the other characters.

tanuma in "a suspicious visitor" is the only exception i can think of off the top of my head, though i'm sure there are others i'll get to and just don't remember at the moment. the scene between matoba and ban at the end of the homura arc, for example, is outside of natsume's POV by necessity but is pure dialogue with no interior narration because these are not characters to whom we have that kind of access! (for more on matoba's elusive subjectivity see sp15, says tumblr user worldunbent.)

the special chapters jump all over the place; so far i've gotten to chapters from the perspectives of little fox, an unnamed youkai, nyanko, tanuma, and hinoe (although hinoe's chapter is framed as a story she's telling natsume, so it could have fit in a regular chapter). they have a separate numbering system from the regular chapters, are much shorter, and almost always come at the end of volumes*. in the anime, however, there's absolutely nothing to distinguish the episodes adapting the specials from the ones adapting regular chapters other than the POV shifts, which gives anime-only viewers a very different impression of how the series approaches character interiority. i don't think there's anything wrong with this as an adaptation move and it's pretty much necessary, but it's just notable because in a series that's all about how people see the world differently, the choice to make such a distinction between chapters in the protagonist's POV and chapters from everyone else's POV is a significant one.

the reason i'm paying so much attention to POVs in this reread in the first place is because i've been listening to the podcast media club plus and jack, who is pretty new to anime, keeps pointing out the constant perspective shifts in hunter x hunter and the other hosts are like, "yeah, that's normal." this post from another listener expands on how and why it works as a genre norm in shonen battle anime/manga specifically. so now i'm just cursed to be hyperaware of POV shifts in anime/manga, and given that the three series i'm reading/watching at the moment are hxh, dungeon meshi, and natsuyuu, natsuyuu really stands out in how rarely it leaves natsume's head in the regular chapters. i guess i need to go read some more shoujo for a larger sample size lol

*i have a chapter spreadsheet 🤓 and the exceptions to this are sp18, which is just stuck in the middle of v22, sp20, which is the second-to-last chapter of v24, and sp21, which is the first chapter of v25. i understand the placement of sp20, which is "intermission detectives" and makes sense to have as an break between regular chapters, but i'll have to figure out what sp18&21 are doing when i get to them.

#i think as i get to more plot-heavy arcs with more characters there will be some POV shifts within regular chapters #but either it hasn't happened yet in what i've reread or i haven't noticed lol #natsuyuu.txt #the conversation between ban and matoba is fun to me because it's one of those only times in a regular chapter #that the reader gets access to concrete information that natsume doesn't have #there are definitely other moments like this such as the locked room in the miharu arc #but that's more about characterization and vibes. #after 100 chapters midorikawa is finally like you can have some dramatic irony. as a treat.

[farfetchedshow]

You're making a lyric video for the new song, right? What stage of production is the video at?

I am yes. The lyric video is only at rough boards and concept art currently. The song would have released with a lyric video if we were doing our standard practice of just have one piece of art and moving lyrics, but this song is important to me so I want to go a little above and beyond for it. But as that's on me, and I don't want to waste budget for the pilot in doing so, I'm likely going to need to make the entire video myself. (I've also been very very busy lately so I haven't had a ton of time to work on the lyric video) The previous videos have also been primarily made by myself so that isn't horribly different from the norm, but usually I don't handle much of the art as I'm not the most skilled artist compared to my team. However! I need to learn and get better. I'll post updates as the video comes along and probably even stream some of the work on it.

-🐰

#far fetched answers