#don't reblog.....just comment or idk message me if you REALLY need to

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART III) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering.

a note from Lucy: Well, this is it folks. The third and final instalment of the unholy trinity that is cherub. The fic that i had no idea would get this amount of traction. The fic that gave me my username, blog theme, the majority of my mutuals and the freedom to explore more taboo areas of writing that I never felt comfortable with doing before. I just wanted to thank you all for all the kind words you’ve shared with me. Comments, reblogs, messages, they all mean the utter world. But i also want to specifically thank @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin who was such a huge help for motivation when wrting each of these. She's been there since the first day of cherub and always let me obsess over dealer!joel with her. Ange, i love you baby. Out of all my fandom experiences, this has definitely been one of the best. I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye completely, but it's not i swear! I just never really knew where this was going, but I think this is a pretty good way to end the series and I hope you agree too. Part of me isn't ready to let go after such a short run, but I honestly have no idea where to go from here so I think I did it as much justice as I could. Regardless, Cherub and Dealer!Joel will forever have a place in my heart all thanks to you lovely lot! Your love means the world to me and you are all so easy to share this with, you've given me an environment to flourish creatively and I'm eternally grateful for that. I wish you all the love, hugs, kisses, and angel wishes in the world! 

playlist 

wc: 5548 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, plot? what plot? we all know we're here for the porn anyway, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 50s), gore imagry, religious imagry, Smut, very dubcon in theory but both want it bad, grafic smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl i beg of you), teasing, sort of edging? (idk what to call it but he doesnt fuck you until you beg for it lol). nipple play, biting biting biting!!!!!, references to domestic violence, use of pet names, manipulative! joel, stupid stupid cherub, stockholm syndrome, oral (f receiving), cum eating, pussy slapping, Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, overstimulation. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile vile vile porn I have written thus far…with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, i have my own circle now. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

The danger didn't lie in his hands. It didn't sit in his closed first to be suffocated. Choked out until the life of it was compressed. Until its face was blue, then purple and its eyes were bloodshot and streaked with red. The danger lay in your heart. And it thrived off the beating.

What is ‘it’, you ask? Mania.

The Greeks had it nailed down when they split love seven different ways. To the crucifix through its punctured and bleeding palms. All equal, but different. They understood that one love is different to the other. That love can be either obsession, or lingering in the quiet parts of a person's mind. You cannot hold up a mirror to one and deceive into believing it is another. No matter how sweet the lie seeps into the ear. They don't work that way. You were not Lucifer, you had no forked tongue. And your mania wasn't Eve. There was no apple to devour. Only the strong arm of Joel Miller to cling to like a noose.

Some love passionately. Find it in the scathing friction of flesh upon flesh. The heat two bodies make only in sex. You were no body anymore. Merely a corpse for him to dig up and breathe life into whenever he needed relief. So it was not Eros. Some love playfully. In the back and forth of a conversation that makes the mind and heart float in the clouds among the soul. Entwine them together until you are too sedated to know the difference between the three pillars of personal holy trinity. There was nothing lighthearted about Joel Miller. So there was no Ludus. Affection. The subtle, it-is-there-even-when-it-is-not weight of lovers hand in lovers hand. Joel clutched your throat with his heavy hand. He didn't lace your fingers in his like tapestry threads. And he was anything but friendly. So it could never be Philia. He was not unconditional. Familial. Constant. Committed. Long lasting. Selfless. He crept in through the backdoor and took. Then slipped back out. So the thick blood red line was drawn through Storge. Agape. Pragma. The love you had was not for yourself. Without him you hated yourself. Hated how you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. So Philautia was buried six feet under hot earth, the final nail in the coffin that was lowered into the rotting, thick-with-decaying-mulch, stenching ground. By none other than Mania.

This was something you came to realise as you stumbled from his truck back to your room. His come dribbling down your leg. Luke asleep on the sofa. Months passed of the same thing. He’d take you home from work, only letting you go once he'd had his fill. Played out the sick fantasy from mind to matter, let it bleed through his fingers into fruition. You let it happen for mania. It was the thing inside you that kept you going. Before you thought mania fed off your heartbeat. But now you realised mania fed your heartbeat. The kick it got every second fired the next muted pulse. That's what kept it alive. Energy for energy. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds. That’s a sinner's duty.

—

The usual sight of Luke slumped in his lazy boy, guzzling beer was what you expected. The liquor once again swigged past his lips and dribbling down his stubbled chin. Wiry greying hair greasy on his head, balding. Thinning. Residue from a line on the coffee table. You were never tempted by it before. And you were determined never be a Angel dust statistic like him.

Instead, you opened the flimsy door of your trailer to see him hunched over a small collapsible table. His hand running over his sunken eyes, dragging purple eye bags down with his fingertips in shame. Cards in his other. It had your breath catching in your throat like a hare in a wire snare trap. This time around the small collapsible round table. Cards in his hand. And two other men shared a knowing glance and a grim smile of satisfaction. Him.

Joel Miller.

The tension was thicker than molasses in the room. You only wished it was as sweet. You swallowed it down thickly. It stretched your throat. You watched in morbid fascination when he lay his hand on the table in a fan for all to horror at, a sly smirk slithering over his lips and curling the one corner of it up like a scorpion's tail.

“Full house.”

“Fuck!” And Luke’s hand slapped the tabletop as he folded.

The door clicked. All three looked up to see you. Luke, Joel, and the man who held a familiar resemblance to your own personal devil. With eyes on you, you felt more like that hare in the snare than ever. Clapping eyes on the hungry wolf as mutton dripped bloody from his sneer. Cruel and hungry. You imagined him as that wolf, hyde thick and bristled under your soft fingers as he led you to some deep, dark, thorny place. A place only lit by the eyes of owls who observed while he had his way with you. Ripped your stockings to get to sweet fruit.

“Great, the cunt is home.” Luke spat to the room but you, looking over the table again as he bit his thumb nervously to the edge of the hangnail. “Get me a beer.” Your nostrils flared in defiance at his demand, knuckles pale as fingers furled into a fist. An army of goosebumps had stood to attention all along your arms and the back of your neck. A shiver shattering down your spine. Your heart had enough of its prison of your ribcage in your anger, ramming into it over and over in a frantic hammering. And when that wasn't enough, you felt it in your throat. Among the tightening of your airways. “You hear me girl?” He asked, looking at you. He stood, chair scraping against the floor and you staggered back to the point your shoulderblades hit the door. While he was a thin, wiry man, he had a vicious backhand that stung. Like a vengeful aftertaste. “Y’need me to beat some sense inta ya girl, huh?!” You dared to spare a glance at Joel who was too busy collecting his winnings. You soon to be among them.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, looking to the floor and cowering off to the kitchen to get him his beer.

“Y’short, Luke.” You heard from the doorway, straining to hear the tail end of the conversation. Something about your uncle having it by monday. And then Joel telling him he shouldn’t raise a bet he doesn't have the dough to cover.

It took a second to catch your breath. Tears strung in your eyes and your chest threatened to split in two. Your sternum felt like it was cracking down the middle into clean halves under the weight of your chest. A hand clasped over your quivering lips to bite back a horrible sob and muffle it. Only your palm could know you were crying miserably. So you took a beer from the fridge, heard the hiss as the lid gave way and popped off. It clattered to the linoleum and you bared your teeth at the grating sound, picking it up and tossing it in the bin.

“Here.” You mumbled, placing it unceremoniously on the table in front of Luke.

“Y’got any spare cash on you, girl?” Luke asked, beady eyes staring you down as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink. You grimaced inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth when he made a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

Joel’s brow raised. You should know by now not to lie to a man who can read you like a book. That's the thing about narcissists. They have a way of being able to understand you like a one word sentence on paper. A quick glance and you’re unravelling with concealed meaning and connotation.

“C’mon, Cherub…gotta have something from workin’ this late in that diner of yours…” You dared to challenge Joel with a look. A look that retreated soon after the advance of the glare of his eye. The same glare of the hungry wolf. Of the cheated man. It was unkind, and unyielding, and did not hold mercy upon the souls of the enthralled, the damned, or the harrowed. You might try to cross through the sentence, or turn the page. Or shut the book entirely. But the truth is still the truth even when you chose not to look. This was the man that knew your mind. Knew your body. And coaxed his will out of you each time. His word was all it took to cave, so you took the folded bills from your apron, flicking through them with a bitten back scowl,

“How much does he owe you?” Joel smiled with amusement, counting through his winnings to see what was short.

“Ninety-eight.”

‘What?” you asked, eyes wide, hurt. Disheartened. Fingers stilling halfway through the small stack. And Joel smirked.

“You heard me, Cherub.”

“Give Joel his money.” Luke warned.

“But it’s not his money! And it’s not yours to give!” You tried, and saw the warning tick of your uncle's narrow jaw. It was always set on edge before he threw a hand. Cast a palm across your cheek in a brandishing. It had you cowering. Relenting. Tossing the money in front of him. If it fell to the floor in its flurry he could pick it up and grovel about it. But Joel never grovelled. Only relished. Then reminded Luke of the money he still owed for the drugs.

And you walked back to the kitchen, biting into your lip again. With the devil and your demon in the next room over, you were sure this could be hell. A buzz filled your ears. Like the constant thrum of flies over roadkill. In festering flesh wounds where broken white of bone poked through gaping, bleeding holes. Blood matted in the hyde of the animal helpless and scattered across the road. A leg here, smashed teeth there. You were the roadkill. Joel was at the wheel of that which mowed you down. Luke was howling in the passenger side.

His boots thumped clumsily over the linoleum and he let out a huff through his nose while he adjusted his low slung jeans in the doorway.

“Cherub?” He asked, clearing his throat huskily — a consequence of the smokes he used religiously. You stood with your back to him, palms flat to the countertop and head hung low to fight the sting of tears simmering from within.

“He threatened to hit me.” You whispered, not turning to face him. If you mattered his ears would strain to meet you halfway. “And you did nothing.”

“Come on, Cherub…don't be like that.” he sighed, and you imagined him pinching the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He took my money. You took my money. How am I gonna get out of here without it?” You croaked, your tired eyes seeing faces of gaping mouths and slate black eyes in the speckled linoleum of the counter.

No reply came from the door. And when you turned it was empty. He had left. The other man had left. The tv was on again with the scream of a woman murdered. And Luke fell asleep in his lazy boy.

—

Another day, another shift. And more horror ensued. At first, what set the nerves thrumming was there was no sign of Luke. His truck was gone from its spot. No drunk slumped on the worn leather settee. No scream or grotesque image on the TV. Merely an empty bottle on the coffee table.

You swallowed, shutting the door cautiously with a muffled click of the latch. You didn't dare call his name. Just pushed it down into your stomach for it to churn the thought up in acid. But the horror jumped back up your throat into a lurid scream at the sight of your mattress tossed to the side. The moth bitten pillowcase on the floor, void of money. Your money. Gone. Someone had rifled through your belongings. Turned your only space into a mess. Strewn clothes, bed sheets, pillows in their haste. All your work. All the nights of living off bitter coffee from the pot at work, scrounging together tips. It made you seethe. The heat was an inferno at your fingertips, nails embedding crescents into your palms. You searched all over for it. But to no avail.

When Uncle Luke came home, he smelled of hard liquor. It was a miracle – or curse – he hadn't wrapped his car around a tree. He gloated, and sneered, and shoved it down your throat in his intoxication that he’d found it under the mattress. Joel had called him, told him you planned on leaving. And he connected the dots. Ransacked your room. Oh, how the man would hate his loose lips when you gave him hellfire.

You expected Luke’s reaction. You knew if he were to ever find out he’d snatch it up in his greedy, grimy hands and take it for himself. He spent all of it. Paid his debt to Joel, gambled some on bad luck bets, drank with the rest. Slugged liquor down his throat and got drunk off your labour. And then left you on your floor with tear stained cheeks and a heart of heavy lead.

You wanted your money. But would you take from the man who gave you your everything? Your sense of being. A religion and faith. You believed in nothing more than the way he held your name between his teeth. You forgot what your real name felt like in the same place. And it occurred to you that he had never said it. Did he know it? You weren't them anymore. You were Cherub.

The sweet and mourning lamb in you wanted to go over just to be his again, and not carry out the plan of taking back what was yours. That which he would see as sin. You felt guilt claw up your throat at the thought alone. It seemed blasphemous to conspire against him. Why do you insist on protecting yourself. You who was the sacrificial lamb?

If you did go – and you let him have you again – you were whole. But at what cost? Could you stand another night of temporary hell under the guise of heaven. Of touch so cold, like ivory or black ice. To have him thumb your skin with blunt endearments and the croon of ‘cherub’ past his chapped lips. Definite like black and white. No escape. What he’d do and how. Whispering them in the stone deaf shells of your ears like they were a sculpture. Pygmalion’s Bride. He’d made you all you were today. Took chisel to marble and carved out his masterpiece. Cherub.

You were soft, and pliable. Wax heated by his flame. You kissed back. You moaned for him. Begged him for his release and not your own. Bruised with his handprint. The warmth of life under flesh. But without him…you returned to marble. Another pretty thing to be gawked at. He tempted you with it because he knew more than anyone, more than god himself who watches these exchanges, that you can't live without him. It was like telling a child not to slip off to the woods in the dead of night. That was a pointless warning. You knew what lay there anyway, what threat it would be. That wolf in his thick bristled hyde. Curled up in his den. You would see it as innocence and vulnerability if you weren't so scared. But you knew when he woke up the teeth would shine again. And they’d tear flesh. Let blood. Gnash bone. Dripping from the glaring white once he finished with your carcass. Your matter between them and your crimson lacing his gums. Who knew being eaten alive could be so pleasurable.

But then again, how could bering alone really be hell if the devil wasn't there?

There is mania in your body. But you can't get it out. It rattles in your head and lungs and glues to the backs of your gnashers. No matter how much you wish to spit it out. It infects your tongue. It welds itself to the matter of your bones. Melts into the cracks between your teeth. Claggy against your tongue. All to show the sweetest of words have the bitterest of tastes. You can feel it swell underneath your skin. In the gap between muscles where it festers and heats you up. Like fever it burns, like the fire that consumes and the pillars that hold the temple up crack, the ground shakes, and the beast rears its ugly head at you. You’re losing your body to him. It's a fight you try to win. You dare to. You give your all, tooth and nail each time in the gaps between. In the silence and hollow that nestles in the middle of the meetings. In the quiet, where no one is around but the cracked plaster of your room. You stopped caring who fired the gun first. You were always the one who got shot down in the end. Right in the stomach. Blood gurgling up your throat in a grotesque plea for help.

All these weeks you had shrunk yourself to the size of a bird in his hands, sang a sweet sweet song of his name, until the squeeze of his first closest off your throat. And the sound stopped altogether. Laid there after the warning. Patient while you had your wings clipped and your freedom taken. And he took more. Took the beating of your heart with his teeth. Took the will to want. The will to love. The will to need anything else, as well as the need to have better. Below you were the foundations. Only now you saw them for what they were, a decaying mess of fragments, the stench of wood rot hot in your nose. A musk like no other. His musk. So in your anger you took an axe to a willow to see how it would weep. You slipped past the sleeping drunk you call Uncle Luke. Out the door, over gravel, past the truck he coaxed you to without the need of a sweet treat. You’d yank the axe from the bark of the weeping willow, its sob echoing in the wind that rustled its drapery of lush green leaves. Leaves that will wilt as sap bleeds from its severed trunk. Take the axe to the wolf. Cut him. Scrotum to throat.

Take back what was yours. And leave those woods skipping.

—

Your knocks descend upon his door in quick raps until he opened it with a grumble. Then a smirk. “Evenin’, Cherub.”

No salvation. No going back. No space among the clouds. Just the fall. You pushed past him into his front room. “Where is it?’ You hissed, tossing the cushions of the couch up. Nothing there. So you left them on the floor and did the same for the airchair. Nothing there either.

“Woah, calm down, girl!’ Joel huffed, reaching for your arm, which you tugged back from him in a new found strength surging you forward, out of his arms. “Where’s what?”

“My damn money, Miller!” You bit back with venom laced spit. A hunger for revenge making you salivate like a bad dog.

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about, dickhead!” And he recoiled at your bared teeth, your verbal assault and battery, but went in for his own.

“Watch your damn foul language, girl!” He warned, reaching the end of his already short tether.

“You know how much he stole from me? Three hundred dollars of my hard earned chash. Forget my fucking ticket out of this shithole, I ain’t even paying rent now! And for what? Your god awful drugs!” His nostrils flared, and you watched the vein in his neck bulge under the sweltering heat of his own anger. Coiling inside him. Wounded bitch about to bite back.

“You didn’t have much of a probelm with my drugs after I fucked that pretty little hole of yours. All dumb and needy f’me, Cherub.” You grimaced at the sneer. But the feeling made your knees buckle. The name again. Cherub. You were Cherub. His cherub. “You want ya money back, huh? You can have it.”

That made you stutter. Thoughts skidding to halt at the sight of a brick wall. Crumpled matter as it smashed into it anyway. “What?”

“I ain't giving it to you for free though.”

“You're sick! It’s my fucking money!”

“Not in the eyes of the law its not.” And he folded his great oaks of arms over his chest in satisfaction. Once again one upping you.

“The eyes of the law? Says the fucking drug dealer. I bet you got way worse than coke in duffel over there. Wonder what the law would say about that?” It was said dismissively over your shoulder as you turned to leave. Alas, once again his large hand encompassed your wrist and squeezed. Pulled you back flush to his broad chest. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

“Come on now, Cherub. You wouldn't do me in like that would ya? Not when I love ya…”

The way he said it…it didn't seem real. It was false. Comforting but not real. You knew it was a lie. This wasn't love. He didnt love. If he loved you he'd ask for your number then call you. Take you out. Let you cry on his shoulder and drive you home after. Kiss you in the dark for only the walls to see. Let you stay a night or two, or a whole damn week. Give you your damn money back. Stand up to Luke with a closed fist to the face. Leave swelling and a deep bruise on his cheekbone as a first and final warning.

“You love me?” You asked, voice small and hollow in your chest.

“Yeah, Cherub. I love you too.” He cooed, as if he knew you loved him already. All this and nose running over the curve of the side of your neck, tongue trailing hot in pursuit, it had you keeling over in confession at his feet. “You’re so cute when you're angry. Come on now, lemme make those tears go away…and you can have your money back, and we can forget this ever happened.” That tone…it was patronising. It made the sense in you rattle the cage of your ribs. Claw at the bars of bone and run into them like a caged animal. Because that’s what it was. A caged animal. But your heart was holding its hand over its mouth in a trance as it let his words ebb deeper. Somewhere between desperate and divine. But what was his motive?

God, Jesus, all above that is holy, you didn't care! After all this time, it was still no secret, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt.

He still had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Still ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper. Always would. Always will.

It's what got you here. It would end you if it could. Snuff out your heartbeat and the fire inside of you. All he need do was lick his fingers and press them to the wick. And leave the smoke to string out and curl. You thought you were hungry for love before. But now you realised you were just hungry for the sight of your blood on his lips. The gnashing of you between his teeth. The curl you made of his brow. If it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. And he took again, and again.

So you let him ‘make it up to you’. Let him claw at your clothes until they were scraps on the floor. Tore your stockings. Showed you those gleaming teeth. The wolf. And you, his sacrificial lamb. His Cherub.

“Feel that?’ He asked, with the slow drag back and forth of him inside you, parting you. This wasn’t fast, or rough. This was slow. And it made you need more. Need it faster. Need him hurtling you towards the edge of harrowing oblivion. He knew that. It’s why he took his time with it this time around. “Yeah. You do.” Joel answered for you. You never had to answer. But often he made you say it from your own quivering lips. Just to have the taste of the words from your tongue bleed into his. The neverending praise. “Why would you wanna leave that Cherub?” You couldn't answer, only let out a soft sob. “Huh? Answer me, Cherub. Why’d you wanna fuckin’ leave that?” And he punctuated it with pulling out to the bulbous head of his clock, then slamming back in with one sharp thrust. And then he was still.

You whined a shallow gasp into his mouth. But he didn’t kiss you. Joel never kissed you. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip shut you right up before his tongue delved deeper into it. The thumb of the hand that slithered between your legs rolled over your clit, making you mewl over the buzz of electricity causing you to clamp down on his thick, full cock. You were so eager for more. Anything more than what he was giving you. He smirked into your mouth when he felt your hips buck forward, trying your damn hardest to push his cock deeper into you. Silly little cherub. You should know better than to defy God. “See? Felt good didn’t it?” You nodded as much as you could in your current piston.

“Mhm.”

“See what you can have if you stay. Why fight it cherub?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You gonna listen then, Cherub?”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll listen, just-” You shuddered at the thought of it, tears brimming at the the threshold of your eye. ”Please.”

“Say it.” He waited, wanting you to beg for it in the pretty way he knew you could. The choir voice. The songbirds hymn. The whole time his eyes did nothing but stare you down hungry at the sight of you falling apart from nothing but a hand to your throat and a single his throbbing dick buried in your aching cunt. It all pooled down into your centre, creating a rush your head had trouble keeping up with. “Tell me why you wanted to leave.”

“I dunno-” You stuttered, once again rolling your hips up. His hand at your throat pressed into your skin again, harder. It choked you. It had you drawing in a sharp, meagre breath. And he pulled out, running the underside of himself through the hot, drooling seam of your cunt. You shivered when the tip brushed up to your clit momentarily. The bead of precome at his slit smearing into your sex, mixing with your slick. “I dunno, Joel. I- I just wanted my money. I just wanted out. I hate it.” You babbled through closed eyes, chest heaving with sobs, and hot tears ran thick down your flushed cheeks.

“You hate it, huh?” He mocked and crooned, still catching your clit with the tip of his cock, hips waxing and waning in a slow roll. “You hate me too?” He knew the answer. But again, it was the satisfaction of knowing you were wrapped around his finger. Ready to bend over backwards for him. Him seeping into you through the cracks of your ribs, the gaps between your teeth. The opening of yourself to the twisting knot of denial within you. Your back arched like the lofty roof of a chapel, legs parting like its heavy doors. He followed you with hunger. You opened your mouth to speak but he squeezed momentarily on your throat again, oxygen starvation and the smell of him dizzying you. He relished in the whimper that he garnered from you. That and how he left you breathless just from his cruel touch.

“No.” You garbled as his thumb unhinged your jaw. Saliva in your mouth pooling while his thumb pressed your tongue down, bitter with a smokers telltale tobacco staining. It slipped past your lips, dribbled down his digits making a sticky mess at the curve of his thick wrist. He drew up a glob of saliva in his throat, watching as it drooled thickly, gluttonously, past his lips into your waiting mouth. He watched as you gagged on it, and then he let your jaw go so you could close your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste on your tongue. For what did it matter anymore? One day, you’ll be nothing but dust. Bronchioles in lungs will mimic roots. Navels will copy trunks. Organs will feed worms. Ribs will fossilise and lips that are kissed will mould back to Mother Nature. It's all you have ever been. Quick. Convenient. Easy to please, eager to help. Waiting lips, wanting cunt. Warm, never warm enough. But he kept you like a butterfly in a glass jar. He let you see freedom but never experience it. Why need it when you had the stretch of him inside you. The feeling of him, heat to heat with your sex.

“You want this, cherub? Wanna be stuffed full of me again?”

“Always wanted it, Joel.” You mumbled into his mouth, sniffing back the last this spurt of tears, hypnotised. His hand wrapped around his cock, the large splay of his palm did nothing to dwarf its size with he jacked himself once, twice, three times to the sight of you. He squeezed the base with hiss, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after cursing under his bated breath. He was thick, flushed, the tip swollen and leaking, drooling greedily with a rivulet of precum down the underside of his length. He trod a path with his hands down to your breasts, kneading each one between his palms with a pinch before guiding himself back into the mouth of your heat, your cunt swallowing him down to the base. The needy roll of your hips into his showed just how desperate you were. He groaned at the start of the friction between you, and slowly dragged back out of you, moving just as slowly back inside. He repeated this twice, and then he let loose. The motion turned into a needy clash of his hips to yours. Again. Again. Again. Somewhere along the sting of passion and heat, his hand wrapped around your throat, feeling the flex of it as you swallowed under his palm. He bit down into your neck, reaching out from you as his hips slammed erratically. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each rut forward of his unrelenting. The way he fucked you, was like holding a knife to your throat. It grounded you in the most harrowing way to each of his breaths. His panting in your ear. It swallowed you whole. Mad your legs wrap around his waist and your hips keen up into him.

Your cunt drooled down his shaft, down to the base, down the sensitive skin of his cock. He growled and hissed in your ear, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand dragging back up and grip tightening around your neck. Getting off on the feeling of your pulse under his thumb.

You felt the knot tighten. And tighten. Right in the pit of your stomach, deep in your sopping wet cunt where the mouth of your cervix met his fucking. The walls of your cunt sucking him back in as the angle of his hips snapped up into the spot that had you seeing entire constellations. They darted to and fro across your vision. It blurred the edge, spots of dark matter, deep black, the colour of oblivion slinging over the back of your eyes that now burned with tears of pleasure. His fingers dug deeper into malleable flesh, gripped tightly at your hip with his free hand, thumb brushing over your hip bone down your mound to toy with your clit after a slap to it. And it was the action that sent you spiralling, babbling his name nonsensically among a string of curse words. So pretty and fucked out beneath him. Joel couldn’t help but stare smugly as your eyes rolled back into your head when your orgasm hit like a freight train. He came undone soon after, his climax hitting a crescendo with a growl bitten into your shoulder, bruising and brandishing you with his mark again.

He pulled back, leaving you to the mercy of the cold. Watching was his hips moved again to fuck his release back into you. Your hole quivered in protest, and you squirmed under him. “Don’t be fucking ungreatful now, Cherub.” You relented, going still and boneless on the mattress. Limbs unfurling from their tension. “That's it. Take it. Take it all.” He groaned smoothly. Just like the roll of his hips. He fucked it slowly back into you. And you took his release inside you to keep. “Good girl, Cherub.” He whispered, kissing your lips in a tender dichotomy. Not letting you rest until he was satisfied you took every drop of him. Afterall, it was all you’d have left of him until he next chose to pick you up. All the while, he trailed his tongue back down to your breasts, pressing the flat of it to your nipple, drawing it with a sharp suck into his mouth. Pressing the blunt of his teeth into your flesh. Letting the taste melt on his tongue. Salty with your sweat. He did the same to the others. When he went soft inside of you, and his hips stilled. He slipped out of you with hitched breath, the pad of his fingertips tracing your abused, used sex. Your legs twitching when he rolled your clit under two fingers. “I said stop squirming.” He grunted, landing another slap to your pussy. It made an obscene wet sound. His come dribbling out slowly.

“Open your mouth.” Joel commanded, and you did. Waiting for whatever he had planned. He licked a hot strip from your asshole to your cunt, pressing his tongue in to drag out some of his release. And he climbed back up to spit it into your mouth. A hand clamping down on your jaw. “Don’t swallow. Close your mouth.” And you did with the side of his thumb clamping it shut for you. “Taste that?” You nodded in response. It was hot, heavy and thick and salty to taste. Divine. “Show me.” You opened again, his creamy spend diluted amongst your saliva and he smirked. Clamping your jaw shut again. “Swallow.”

Joel watched in open mouthed amusement as the delicate column of your throat rippled under muscle contract. “Good girl, Cherub. Remember that taste next time y’feel like leaving again.” He warned in a growl. And you nodded, swallowing your pride. Your fear. Your mania aiding in shoving it down your throat to dissolve in acid. Once again you were in those deep dark woods. The one where the wolf lay. Remnants of you in his teeth. The willow is still weeping, slashed in half. The axe free of his bloodshed by the entrance of his den. The owls' eyes still lit the scene of sin where overhead the starlight was snuffed out by the tangle of branches thick in their black greenery.

You never got your money back. Maybe one day you'd get out of this town. But the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering. Even angels can’t resist a slice of that heaven. Fallen angel. Wounded bitch. Cherub.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel tlou #lu’s little bookshelf #joel the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #dealer!joel #joel x reader #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel x reader smut #joel miller tlou

[fandom-hoarder]

Ok, so I got an ask for mutual aid. Of course, it's human to want to help someone in need, even if all you can do is reblog their post. But you also don't want to be scammed, or help spread a scam. So you look for clues, or you only reblog your mutuals' aid posts because you at least know they're *real*, or you don't reblog aid posts at all.

So, what are the tells? (I'm not an expert, this is just what I've learned through osmosis.)

Do they follow/interact with you, outside of the mutual aid request?

Is their username weirdly generic?

Does the blog look like a real tumblr user, and not just someone who made a tumblr to ask for aid? How old is it? Is it involved in any fandoms? Does it seem staged?

Does their aid ask and needs description make sense? Is it overly vague, or bogged down with unneeded details?

If you quote-search the body of their aid ask, do you get any similar hits for scams on other sites or under other names?

Does the account for donations look legit?

What do you find when you reverse image search?

So, having received an ask that sounded very much like someone whose mutual aid I would want to support if they're real, but already having two red flags from the jump (not following me and not in my notifications, weird wording and grammar on ask), I endeavored to suss them out.

Screencaps of my adventure under the cut.

Like someone else has said, please don't go harrass this blog. Even if it's a scam, at some point there's a person behind that screen.

So here's the ask.

Red flags: they don't follow me, I don't know them, the ask is long, the grammar and punctuation are bad, word choices are odd or misspelled. These don't mean it's automatically fake, but it looks more like a weird AI than someone using google translate to communicate in English.

So I check their blog.

Their pinned post is this (click to read, it's a longass pic):

I don't take any links yet.

I take a block of their post and check it in google; all I get are snapshots of tumblr reblogs for their aid post. I click the "buy me a coffee" link, and it looks...idk, fine I guess. There's a tumblr logo, but clicking it seems to do nothing. (I'm on mobile)

A quick search of their name on tumblr gives me 2 posts mentioning them spamming this same message to people.

I read the one with the readmore linked here

After reading wannursyafiqah74's post about it, I got on my laptop and went back to casualdonutfire.

Mostly random reblogs; cats and other random reblogs of mostly pics, many with comments that could've/should've been tags, and no actual tags whatsoever. Like set dressing that says, "See? I'm a real person! I'm leaving comments about my reblogs that show I'm not a bot! I interact! I know what I'm I'm reblogging!"

It gives me a creepy vibe. I try google again to see if I can find their presence elsewhere on tumblr. The returns are still all snapshots of their mutual aid post. I open their archive. Ok, their tumblr has archive on...?

There are no fandom-esque posts until the very first reblog, a comment on One Piece fanart on October 18, 2023.

Their first post about needing aid was on November 7, 2023. Nearly the same wording as their pinned post, except they don't mention having a child. Zero specifics on what amount is needed for what or a timeline or anything. Not even anything about Christmas coming up. Tagged generously for trans surgery and other visibility words.

Oh. AND. The buymeacoffee is different. Adela, not Adella.

Then their next post for aid is fresh on January 11, 2024; nearly the same wording, except now there's a daughter and a birthday -- no date for the birthday, though, is there?!

[reblog linked here] If you go to their January 12th reblog and click on the "video proof," it's an audio-only black screen upload to imgur, with no identifying info for what's going on other than what they describe (and it doesn't really sound like what they describe; it sounds like a kid ready for christmas but not disappointed, like idk what more you're supposed to get out of it)

Then I clicked on their buymeacoffee link and noticed something. When I hovered my mouse over the tumblr symbol under their blurb, the link embedded there showed up at the bottom of my screen. And it was NOT casualdonutfire.

It was deepeagletimetravel. And, of course, it's a nuked tumblr. Hence doing NOTHING for me on mobile.

So I went to google again!

And lo, what do I find in those lurking reblogs?

ANOTHER MUTUAL AID POST IN EVERYONE'S REBLOGS. WITH A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PERSONA AND STORY. BUT THE SAME WALL OF TEXT + BAD PUNCTUATION STYLE

Using a stock photo for their initial "bio" that seems awfully misleading when you don't say it's a stock photo.

And with stolen/uncredited art by thetransformistress as a thank you.

And, of course, the buymeacoffee page it linked for Ameera (buymeacoffee.com/AmeeradelzC) is blank. 👀 Totallynormal, nothing to see here.

But this makes me think. I go back to that Nov 7 casualdonutfire post, with their first buymeacoffee link to "Adela" (buymeacoffee.com/adelladomil)--

and what do ya know, the tumblr that opens is casualdonutfire!

So did they forget they made an adela account, and change their ameera buymeacoffee account to adella for their new post, forgetting to change the deepeagletimetravel tumblr name?! 🤷‍♀️

#possible scam #scam alert #scam likely #casualdonutfire #deepeagletimetravel

[brandycranby]

ce characters + whether your asian parents would like them and how to win them over 🥺😣🫶🏻💕🍵

based on unfortunately realistic intrusive thoughts i have while reading self-insert fics

steve: military? hm. desi peeps leave ur comments bc idk how desi parents feel but i know ALL the east asian and southeast asian parents and grandparents might have something to say about that. the US army has left its mark.. just saying... better highlight his better features such as his sensitive artistic nature!! wait. wait. not that either, no need for them to call him a bum at the dinner table.

just... have him win your mom over with his stunning future son-in-law adorableness and charming smile 😀

andy: lawyer. that's it- no, no it doesn't matter if your EA mom prefers flower boys and he's a little too bearded. lawyer. the desi parents are messaging the Whatsapp group chat, they're calling the fam back in the motherland. look at that beard. lawyer.

tall ✅ upper middle-class ✅ drives an audi ✅ divorced? he has you now.

ari: handsome... ok.. but also. military. hmm. non-religious/non-abrahamic religious peeps, your asian parents might give him a better reception. but um, "divorced?" "has a daughter??" "soldier la??" "he have steady income???" 👁️👄👁️

my super religious background peeps, im so sorry. maybe the part where he's Jewish will get lost in translation. um. that's a fight and a half at the dinner table, good luck 🥲 maybe just elope.

curtis: ... I MEAN IS IT THE APOCALYPSE?? if not, your dad would probably like him. a man's man. strong, silent, built like a brick wall and does whatever DIY project he points him towards when you visit. your mom will call him scary. i don't think that would change whether you're E/S/SEA, your mom is pulling you aside in the kitchen and asking if you're really sure about him.

let Curtis show his gentle side. yeah, he's tall and intimidating but he has a soft heart. tell your lil cousins and niblings to use him as a jungle gym

jake: see Andy above- no, EVEN MORE POWERFUL THAN ANDY. yeah, military veteran, yeah, he's a lil awkward. but. computer science. information technology. wifi. tvs, laptops, phones. your parents are going to turn him into their personal help line and you might have to put a stop to it but goddamn if they don't call him son the minute this convo happens:

"he's in cybersecurity"

"what is cyba-"

"... IT"

"OH EYE-TEE. EYE-TEE VERY GOOD"

ransom: he's rich. he wears L.L. Bean and probably has the Louis Vuitton travel duffle bag. ransom is the nicest dressed, actually fashionable, sleek, and nicest smelling compared to the rest of these bozos. your mom loves him already. your dad is on the fence but also, he's well off enough to take care of you.

don't... say that he writes. yes, he does write. but focus on the fact that he's connected to a big big publishing house. yes yes. if this is an au and he's in charge of Blood Like Wine. BUSINESS OWNER, TAKE THAT.

---

disclaimer, all asian parents different. my dad is a graphic designer/artsy (though idk if he'd want me to date an artist tbh...) if ur parents aren't represented feel free to reblog w ur thoughts 😌

#unhinged. as usual. im sorry. #my writing #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #steve rogers headcanon #andy barber headcanon #ari levinson headcanon #curtis everett headcanon #jake jensen headcanon #ransom drysdale headcanon #ce character headcanons

[suratan-zir]

To my simmer followers

I dreaded to write this post, but I feel like I have to address the elephant in the room, even though no one really cares.

I no longer post any sims content on this blog, and it is unlikely to make a comeback in the foreseeable future.

I wasn't contributing anything good or important, so this isn't a loss to the community, which is why this post is somewhat unnessesary. But I still sometimes get new simmer followers, and I feel guilty about it. At the beginning of the invasion, I said that I would continue to post sims content when the war is over. Then after a while I mixed posts about the war with the sims posts, trying to please everyone. It was stupid. Now I can say with confidence that you can't expect to see any new sims posts from me.

The reason is simple - I don't play any of the sims games anymore. I have an embarrassing confession to make - I lost interest in the game mostly because of the community. Don't get me wrong, majority of you guys have been super supportive and nice to me, way kinder than I deserve. I still very much enjoy posts of my mutuals despite not playing the game anymore, I'm not unfollowing anyone. But the game itself now evoces only negative assosiationg in me.

Let's put it plainly: I had many russian mutuals before the war, many of them I considered my "tumblr friends", you probably follow them too, some have really good content. We interacted often and I genuinely thought they were good people. On February 24, when I wrote my first post about the war, I thought these people would be the first to say something. To at least reblog it or comment anything aknowledging that their country is attacking mine. To message me and say they're shocked, afraid, sorry, ashamed, whatever. To ask me if I'm okay, idk. Instead, they all immediately unfollowed me, and some of them probably wrote me nasty anon asks (I'm almost sure I know who it was). I don't need to ask them what they think of this war or about Ukraine because I already know the answer.

As pathetic as it sounds, I was never able to let it go. I am pitiful like that. I honestly tried to separate one thing from the other, to not let it get to me, but the game just doesn't bring me any joy anymore. So that's that. So please unfollow me if it's only sims content you want. You will be missed, but it is totally fair, as you're not getting what you expected. This blog is dear to me, it's my only real connection with the outside world. I will continue to post about the war and whatever the hell I want, even if I only have one follower left.

(I just like how this photo came out, it has no deeper meaning)

#blog update #personal

[444rockstargf]

hii! omg okay so i absolutely love your works and your writing style and i wanted to know how you started up writing on here because i’ve been wanting to for a while but have no idea how to start 😣

thank you so much for this question! I'm gonna answer it in detail and feel free to dm me if ur confused abt anything!

OLIVIA'S (almost) COMPLETE WRITING GUIDE!

the basics.

i'll start off really easy. to begin, find someone (preferably famous). if this person is in any films, watch a few to get a taste of a couple different characters. this will help you form a hyperfixation to a character. this will be who you write for. for me, it's rory culkin & spencer reid. from here, now we can get to the fun part.

your aesthetic.

your theme is the next thing that will draw in an audience. I'm completely aware of the trillions of different aesthetics in the world, but more popular ones tend to draw a larger audience (odd, I know.) currently trending aesthetics include 2014 grunge (shades of black, pink, and lots of soft filters), coquette (pastel pinks and soft cremes, can be followed with slightly disturbing content), and my favourite, gothic. (falls into 2014 a little. i include themes from my favourite album. music will draw in a crowd too.) but this part is extremely flexible, so choose any style that you want!

friends & your fandom.

one of the best things you can do to give your account a kick start before even starting is to make friends in a fandom. reblog fics you like, leave kind comments, "sneak" into dms and leave encouraging messages. this'll earn you some followers and supporters right off the bat. if you're comfy with it, tell your friends outside of tumblr to follow you too (but I totally understand where that can get messy, so no pressure.)

writing + visuals.

now we're getting to the good part. fanfics are categorized into 3 main parts: smut, fluff, and angst (all I'm sure you've seen on my page.) smut is sexual stuff, fluff usually has a more cozy atmosphere around it, and angst is all the gut-wrenching stuff that really tugs at your heartstrings. as you write for either one of these things, keep in mind that your visual should support whatever the theme of the fic is. idk how long you've been supporting me, but ever since the start (august 2023) I have included some sort of visual in my content. first I only used gifs and ordinary fonts, then I branched out and began putting together my own photos and making the title match. your visual will reflect the quality of your writing.

when writing for anything, second person is usually my go-to (you went to the store, you took a walk, etc). it is the most commonly used perspective and prevent any confusion for the readers. when writing smut, there are certain words and phrases that'll be good with readers, and some that won't. when referring to the vagina, "cunt" and "pussy" will do better than "coochie" or "bearded clam" (yes, I've actually seen that used in a fic). when writing angst or fluff, create a mood by using sensory words that paint a picture in the reader's mind. practice this by googling good descriptive words and weaving them into your fics. this'll boost your writing by a ton, trust me.

conclusion.

this was a lot to take in, I know. when I first started publishing fics on this account, my content was far from good, but I promise you will improve as you go. remember to pace yourself, don't force yourself to write if you just don't feel like it. any writer on this app will understand that feeling. leave your inbox open most of the time to receive good ideas from your supporters, but let them know if you ever need to close it because of an excessive workload. i don't know if you're in school, but finding a good balance between schoolwork and writing fics is a huge part of this whole thing too. thank you so much for the wonderful ask, and my dms are open if you have any more questions.

xoxo, olivia.

#liv's (almost) complete writing guide . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. #444rockstargf

[blamemma]

what you said about maxiel fanfics with endgame lest4ppen, yes, I agree. someone mentioned this before, but maxiel is slowly dying on ao3 while it seems to be thriving more and more on tumblr.

for me it's 50/50 because I don't mind where I'm reading, but here we have more one-shots and pieces of WIPs (which is good because it means authors don't feel the pressure to turn everything into a 50k story, so they can just post their ideas even if it's incomplete), but I personally LOVE longer stories, so I would love to read more and more about every single one of them.

and personally I just don't like lest4ppen at all. I understand the need to tag maxiel because daniel is the bad guy and the "shitty boyfriend" or whatever, but I just don't like seeing those stories 😬

will always preface asks like this by saying people can like what they like and find joy in whatever, i ain't gunna turn my nose up at anyone or anything, lestappen just doesn't make sense to meeee personally, but honestly whatever butters ur bread!!!

as someone who has dabbled here and there in this writing lark, for me there is a distinct difference in ao3 posting and tumblr posting....ao3 to me is formal, ur presenting something perfect, a fully-fledged story, a beginning a middle and an end (not in all cases but i just mean in general). most stuff i read on ao3 is fully-fledged nuanced ideas that the author has obviously spent hours of time crafting and experimenting with.

tumblr fic is inherently fun and blase and easier to throw out there into the ether and forget about really. tumblr fic doesn't need to follow grammatical rules or structure etc etc....it can just be a fun prompt game response or a quick lil fic that you had fun writing and wanna share with ur people?? both have purposes and both are enjoyable to write imo, just depends on what ur feeling and how much u want to expand on said idea??

when it comes to the maxiel of it all....idk how rude or pointed i can get here without getting into shit....so i'll try and word this gently....you have to keep the eco-system alive....i think comments and kudos are GREAT but honestly, if someone reblogs my fic with a fun few tags, i love that more, because in a selfish way, i might get 1 or 2 more readers from that because its going out to an even wider audience?? but its more than that!! engage with ur writers, message them on here and shout at them about their ideas, send them prompts, recommend their fic to ur friends...but i will stand by i think one of the best things you can do, if they make a fun lil post or graphic for their fic...reblog it...ur not only spreading the maxiel gospel, but ur also supporting that writer?? too many times on here i see people's fic graphics flop yet big blogs are leaving them comments on ao3 and look, EACH TO THEIR OWN and also i can sometimes be a bad reblogger dont get me wrong, but LIKE, there are some wildly talented authors on here who just need to be pushed into the limelight a little bit more??? idk if im wording this correctly, but sometimes there are fics that fall through the cracks because no one engages with them, and if ur an author who has put blood sweat and tears into that fic, ur not exactly going to be motivated to post another maxiel fic if u dont think ur going to get engagement from it (again, fic writing isn't necessarily about engagement or response, but let me tell u when i get a fun little comment or someone messages me about a fic i published, it inspires me to write more????)

maxiel is definitely alive and kicking, i follow some stunningly good maxiel authors, but at the same time, its about pushing forward those smaller writers as well and not thinking ur too cool for them???????????????

and so with that, this flufftober, kinktober, spooktober or whatever tober u are a part of, reblog the fic, talk about the fic and enjoy the fic

#if u can understand what i am trying to say here then well done cause i dont think i even do #mean thats a lie i do know what im trying to say but i know a lot of people would hate me if i said what i actually wanted to say :)) #anon #asks

[annesthaeticc]

Sweet November | Dr Strange x Fem!Reader

Sweet November : Chapter One-October 30

| Series Summary: "One month." Stephen said, his gaze intense. He raised his hand, offered it for you to shake. "One month." you agreed, and shook his hand. The sign of a closed deal. Then he smiled at you, and from that instant, you realized, you just broke rule number one; no falling in love.

| Chapter Warning: fluff (i guess? idk HAHA)

| Word Count: 1451 words (keeping it short these days or else i'll run out of creative juices T^T)

| A/N: heya! hope you like this! there'll be more to come don't worry! chapter 2 is already in the works! if u wanna be tagged, please join my taglist (link below) or send me a message! comments, hearts, REBLOGS will help me write <3

"YOU MADE A MATCH!" 

How could four little harmless words cause you excitement and despair at the same time? You'll never know. You weren't one for online dating, you thought it was ridiculous to meet someone through that way. Just exactly what had happened to the traditional way of courting and romance? Strolls in the park? Secret and lingering gazes from across the room? Ballroom dancing? That sort of stuff? Guess it faded along with the era, or maybe you need to stop watching period films and getting your standards way up because— 

"1 New Message" your phone beeped. You quickly swipe to open the dating app to view your match's text. 

"I'm on my way." 

Thank fuck for that. You've been waiting for almost forty-five minutes for him now and you were already having second thoughts about meeting him. But you decided against it and waited. He was a doctor after all, something must've come up. 

All you know about your date is that his name is Stephen V. Whatever 'V' means, you'll never know. His profile flashed a picture of him wearing a classic black suit, and tie. You immediately swiped right the moment you saw his picture, you're a sucker for men wearing suits. He was in his early thirties. And he has an MD, and a PhD. Hotshot doctor, big extra points for your high standards. 

The faint tinkling chime of the restaurant's door made you glance and turn around. And there he was. You watched as he looked around him and down on his phone. Should you wave and catch his attention? Or should you meet him and introduce yourself to save him the trouble of looking for you? You opted to stay back in your seat and compose yourself. 

Eventually he found you. He stood by your table and you immediately shot up from your seat to offer your hand. 

"Hi. I'm Diana." you said, smiling.  Quickly, he pocketed his phone and shook your hand with his free hand. He was holding his lab jacket and case with his other hand. 

"Stephen. Nice to meet you Diana." he returned the sentiment with a pleasant enough smile. 

He took a seat across from you and you passed him the menu. He scanned it quietly and settled it back down. 

"Are you ready to order?" he asked you. 

"Yes, thank you," you replied. He called the waitress and he let you say your order first, saving him for last. 

When the waitress awkwardly walked away with blushing cheeks, you stifled your giggle. You looked at him and found him smirking. 

"So,"

"Yeah," he cleared his throat. Obviously finding the whole date ordeal a bit out of his specialty. 

"Tinder, huh?" you chuckled, and he did the same. Then he quizzes you on how you came upon registering into the dating app. 

"It's ridiculous, really. I always loathed the idea of meeting someone online. But I was feeling particularly lonely one night and decided, 'heck, maybe I should try it'" you said. Then you asked him the same question. 

"Well uh, can I be honest with you?" he said with a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Of course." 

"I was hoping to meet someone, a fake girlfriend perhaps, for me to take to some medical galas that I'm attending this month," he replied and you gaped at him. 

The conversation took an interesting turn, and your iced teas haven't even arrived at your table yet. 

"Couldn't you just, I don't know, date someone and ask them to be your girlfriend?" you said, hope laced your voice. 

"I don't do that," he chuckled. 

"Don't do what exactly?" 

"Relationships. The boyfriend and girlfriend thing," he spat out the words ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’ like it was disgusting. 

"So you'd rather have a fake one?" 

"Yeah. That way I'm not committing myself to something serious," he replied. He gave you a tight smile and instantly you felt yourself become a bit irritated. 

He looks so stupidly handsome and he has committment issues. You instantly regret logging into Tinder in the first place. You look away and sigh. 

"What?" you heard him ask you. 

"Oh it's uh," you distractedly muttered under your breath. Without thinking, you started to gather your jacket and your bag. 

"I'm sorry, I can't do this." you said, gave him a tight-lipped smile and moved away. 

You were halfway through the restaurant floor when you heard him follow you, "Diana! Wait!" You glanced at him then turned to the exit. 

"Don't you want to hear all about the deal?" he asked as he stood beside you. You ignored him and continued to look for a taxi. 

"Deal? No, I'm not interested," 

"Please? Look I'm really desperate and I—" 

"Really? Well sadly, I'm not signing up for your fake relationship thingy because—" 

"You believe in true love, is that it? Diana, you'll never meet him in a dating site," 

"Guess you're right." you started to walk down the street, in hopes of avoiding him. Seems that he really is desperate. 

"Why don't you try? Just hear me out," he came up next to you and caught up with your pace. 

"Okay, I'm listening but that doesn't mean I'll agree to it," you gave in. 

"I'm fully booked this whole month, charity dinners, award ceremonies, galas, all that stuff. I need someone to take to the events. Look, I'll buy the dresses, the shoes, everything you need on the night of the event. Just come with me, hang on my arm for a few hours, eat some fine dinner and wine, then I'll take you home." he ended his speech. 

You gave him a sideway glance and continued to walk down the pavement. He was still walking beside you, as if he's waiting for your answer. But then the first drops of rain started to fall, you halted and started to rummage in your bag for your umbrella. And of all the days you forgot your umbrella, it was today. You quietly groaned and you heard him chuckle. 

"Let me at least drive you home." he said, a smirk teased his lips. You glared at him in annoyance, attempting to keep yourself feeling that way. 

But his eyes, bright blue, shone underneath the lights of the city. You figured, at that moment, you were going to give in. You sighed, rolled your eyes, then acquiesced. 

"Where's your car?" you asked, eyebrows raised. 

"Parked down there." he pointed at the entrance of an hospital's underground parking. 

You looked to your side and realized you both stopped at the very front of New York's Metro General Hospital. It was an easy enough guess that that's where he's working. 

Eventually, you found yourself fastening the seat belt across your body. You sank back into the smooth leather seat as he eased the car into drive. The silence in the car was filled by the stereo turned into the right volume. Quite obviously he's a fan of Pink Floyd. 

"Say I was to agree to your plan," you cleared your throat as the bass of Another Brick On The Wall quietly vibrated in your ears. He pressed a button on the wheel, turning the volume lower. 

"How is it going to work?" you continued. 

"Well, I've drawn up a detailed schedule, a calendar marked and we'll have to discuss it of course. I'll only need you on the night of events," 

"Come over to my office tomorrow, we can talk about it, I'll have my assistant book you 1 in the afternoon."

"I haven't even agreed to anything yet you're already bossing me around, is this how it’s going to work?" you joked. He cocked his head to the side to give you a look. You bit your lip and looked away. 

When the car arrived at your street, it slowed, then you quietly asked him to pull up. He maneuvered the car to park and you clicked the seatbelt off. You looked at him to say thanks, but he beat you to it. 

"Thanks for meeting me. It's fine if you don't agree. I'll just uh, think of another way to solve my little problem." he said. Then he smiled. 

"Thanks for the ride, Stephen." you said with a smile. This time a genuine one. You grasped the handle and clicked it open. 

You climbed out, but before you closed it, before you let the chance escape you, you bent down a bit, and said, "You can tell your assistant to book me an appointment with you tomorrow, 1 in the afternoon." 

This time your true smile was met by his own genuine and beautiful smile. Or at least you felt that it was.

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[aticklishpercivalwriter]

Update from Perz!

The quick version: This boy is tired and needs time to recover. Midterms were awful, but the worst of them are done.

Full version: Sorry for no updates. I'm just so drained this week. Statics mentally drained me. I had to end 5 minutes early because I "cheated" since my calculator has the capability to connect to the Internet. I would've gotten an F for the exam, but she's letting it slide as a warning. But my credibility with my prof is shot and any leniency is probably going to be pretty hard to get back. Ugh.

Also, my productivity seems to go down the drain if stuff like midterms come up. I procrastinate which I know is bad, but idk how to get out of it. Any tips you people have?

Last thing, I'm loosing an hour of sleep once the clock strikes 12am. Officially happened 😭. Daylight savings time in the States 😓.

About writing, I'm currently working on a fic. Pairing are lers Hei and Kazu and lees Ae and GamGam. Nicknames for Heizou, Kazuha, Aether, and Gaming respectively. A tickle chase!*

I'll get back to messages and any requests when I feel more in the mood. It's just a lot of priorities. My job interview is coming up this Friday too. Hopefully I can get the summer job 🤞

I hope you all are doing great wherever you are! Happy tickling :)

*More serious things about me below. No need to read if you don't wanna.

*Idk if I should say this. I decided to post it. This was written when I was very sleepy so just know that. Seems like my emotions come out during that time:

I hope you all like the tickling parts in my fics. Ngl, when I read other fics, I feel a bit inferior since a lot of you are very talented in describing scenarios, how the ler tickles the lee, a lee's reactions, and it doesn't feel repetitive and is unique. I tend to overthink and believe that my work isn't that good and I kind of can't bear to work because my brain is mean and tells me that my work isn't going to satisfy you, the readers, even though I get likes, reblogs and nice, encouraging comments, thank you btw ♥️. I usually fall short compared to other people no matter how hard I try. Though, your comments, likes, and reblogs ease my thoughts and bring me more confidence in my work. I just put high expectations on myself, so that's why I spend so long on things to try and make it perfect whether in school or my writing or just anything personal really. Maybe I should cut myself some slack since I'm brand new to the scene? I will not stop writing though because it's a chance for me to express myself and something to indulge in. But yeah, a little something to know about me.

#percival stuff #non tk #update

[themotherofhorses]

heey vic! :D

i just started following u & i just wanna say how much i adore your series 'just like animals' & 'last of her house no more' .. they're phenomenally written and so addictive to read ! ♡

i was just wondering if you'd like to check out some of my writing concepts? …(totally ok if u don’t)—i saw u reblogged the first one that i posted on this new blog (my old blog got shadow banned) ..</3

..but anyways, i'm also thinking about starting to write longer oneshots & not just concepts... i was just wondering if u had any advice? i wrote a few oneshot imagines on my old blog, but idk.…..it's just really hard for me to commit to writing something longer atm, y'know? anyways, i love ur whole blog & your writing & i’m gonna go reread 'just like animals' & wait patiently for the next part ! ♡

best wishes, xoxo.

heeelllloooo my little love

your words made me so soft and blushy, ily. and the concepts i reblogged earlier i ADORED ! like those modern!aemond w an innocent!reader ones? art. absolutely beautiful. loved it. i look forward to seeing and reading what else you give us <3

as for any advice? okay so this is what helps me a lot in staying productive and motivated (aka my writing routine when i tackle my prompts):

whenever i receive requests or think up new fic ideas of my own, i instantly write them down in my goodnotes notebook. from there, i tweak and outline, trying to figure out what i like and don't like. i think of titles, scenes, dialogue, all that jazz. and perhaps this is so silly, but i use my college essay strategy (introduction, body, and conclusion) CAUSE THAT HELPS SO MUCH! trust me on this, it makes it a shit ton easier. sometimes i start on the body and other times the introduction- whatever feels easiest for me. also, whenever you're working on a larger fic, at times, i find it best to write the part(s) where you have the most ideas and energy, and then gradually branch out.

throw out a rough draft, like a really ugly and shitty base. leave it alone for a day and then work on polishing it. it is much better to approach your writing with a fresh and clearer mind. and if you're feeling less committed to it, move on to something new and come back to it later on!

there is absolutely no use in forcing yourself to do something you don't want to do. nope. not at all. it just ruins everything.

for when i start to lose motivation (or begin to feel that stupid writer's block), i usually pull up a book to read. for my aemond fics, i'll typically reread fire and blood or one of the books in the asoiaf series. i don't know why but reading grrm's writing style fills me with a sudden rush of motivation and encouragement to write for this sexy one-eyed pathetic meow-meow bastard.

(okay well that and i'll go back to all my previous fics and reread y'all's comments, cause receiving comments from y'all is the best fucking fuel EVER.)

my love, my best advice is to find your own writing style. your own groove. as cliche as this sounds, writing is a form of art, and every artist has their own way of creating such. it is what makes us unique. play around, read some books, listen to music, talk to your mutuals (@chainsawsangel is my muse. love you bestie. everyone say thank you cause she constantly motivates my ass to write), and practice until it feels natural to you. think of your followers kicking up their feet in the air while reading your work. how excited they will be when they see you posted something new. "YAY, SHE POSTED!!!"

and if you ever need to bounce around ideas or plan how you wanna write a certain fic, don't feel shy- message me! i'd be happy to talk and help you out. this goes out to everyone.

i love y'all.

#vic’s asks and replies #fav lil luvbugs <3 #writing advice

[aroaceking]

I literally cannot tell if you actually want me to answer any of the things you asked but I'm posting the entire comment and I will answer it. I'm going to be very honest and address that I am autistic so if I've taken the fact there were questions too literally I am actually sorry, I have no intention of requesting engagement from you if you are not actually trying to discuss it with me.

Reblogs are off because I don't really feel comfortable with reblogs when I'm going to address some of my trauma, but you're free to reply to this or send an ask (I think ask word limits are lower now?) if you wish to reply.

tw because I don't know how to explain any of my things without addressing a lot of this: transphobia tw, transmisogyny tw, intersexism tw, homophobia tw, racism tw, csa tw, cocsa tw, childhood sexual trauma tw, medical abuse tw, ableism tw, idk like literally it's just my life idk how to give it enough labels to give fair warning.

under a read more because it's long

@fite-club

okay. there’s a lot to unpack here. i’m gonna first address the “stop sexualizing asexuality” thing— asexuality is about sexual attraction, it is inherently a sexual topic in nature. but you’re alarmingly wrong about something here, and it’s the “recognizing ways I was different from my peers” part as a 14 year old, you WEREN’T different from your peers for not experiencing sexual attraction. MOST 14 year olds don’t. you mention trauma in your past— this is extremely relevant. why do you believe that the majority of 14 year olds were sexual, who told you that? ike, yeah, hypothetically someone who identifies as ace at 14 and experiences sexual attraction at age 18 can change their label from asexual to allosexual. but will they ACTUALLY do that, though? or will they just call themselves a sex-favorable asexual? when you make lacking attraction a part of your identity, what happens to your sense of identity if you DO experience attraction? also i need to point out that there are literal biological functions that are not done developing until you are over 18. your body and brain and hormones are still growing. you definitely cannot say with any certainty that anyone below the age of 16 knows they experience sexual attraction or not finally i need you to understand that by emphasizing “hey, it’s actually completely fine and normal to not be interested in sex at all when you’re in high school” it actually helps prevent teens from being sexually abused. “most teens are allosexual” is NOT the message you want to be spreading.

"asexuality is about sexual attraction, it is inherently a sexual topic in nature."

this is part of what I feel most uncomfortable with. it is innately a conversation about sexuality, but that, too, to me, feels simplified to state as 'sexual' when people are constantly equating sexual with 'having sex' or 'having sexual desires'. developmentally it's a lot more complex than that, especially when you don't use a split attraction model or thoroughly separate/classify all aspects of orientation. I understand why people may break down their identities into the tiniest boxes they can imagine, but I actually don't navigate it that way at all.

I'm deeply uncomfortable with the idea that discussing sexuality is sexual. I know I'm repeating myself, I just am not sure if I'm clear. It's also deeply unsettling to me to see people, of any orientation, act like it's sexual for a child to state if they like boys or girls or whatever else. Or how people act like it's sexual for a child to have a gender identity separate from their assignment.

I will acknowledge the assignment I was given had impact on my feelings on this matter, I was hypersexualized throughout my childhood for being intersex, for publicly going also from 'boy' to 'girl', for my race. I understand that these add to my experiences and are part of why I was reacted to the way I was. That it was a catch-22 because if I had liked boys, I would've been performing gender wrong and if I had liked girls, I would've been performing gender wrong, and that no matter what space I took up, it would be 'incorrect.'

But this experience is mine. I was doomed to be sexualized no matter what I did in the environment I was a part of, and part of that relates to this idea that gender and sexuality in children when 'off the norm' is innately sexual. That if a child expresses a relationship to gender or orientation outside of boxes defined for them that it's somehow sexual.

I tried to define it to an anon earlier also but developmentally I am including things like how children will play-roles as well. A lot of my friends learned gender and orientation through how they wanted to do pretend games or how they felt unfulfilled by them. This isn't sexual, this isn't weird, it's a normal part of development. This includes children picking and pointing out fictional characters or celebrities to admire or joke about wanting to marry/have as a boyfriend/girlfriend/whatever. This includes the way children will also explore themselves through putting claims out like 'so and so is my boyfriend now' or whatever.

"you mention trauma in your past— this is extremely relevant. why do you believe that the majority of 14 year olds were sexual, who told you that?"

I know the trauma in my past is 'relevant.' I'm sure if I had not been further sexualized by adults and children alike for being intersex and the WAY I was intersex that I would not have the same relationship to any of this. As I stated, it's why I feel so strongly about some of it. I don't know who I would be without trauma, I can't just take my trauma aside and yes, I've gone through therapy, multiple attempts, some forced and some me trying to approach it carefully. It's why I tried to study developmental psychology.

I really dislike the statement 'why do you believe that the majority of 14 year olds were sexual'. I believe a majority of 14 year olds weren't and aren't asexual because a majority of the population is not asexual. It's a minority group. So is being gay. So is being trans. So is being intersex. If they feel strongly enough to identify as asexual, it is probably because they have an experience where it has made them feel othered, or at the very least uncomfortable. I don't even see why it matters if they're wrong about it. Nowadays they're constantly seeing people misidentify it as rooted in action, as in if you have sex or not, and some of them are probably very scared of the expectation of sex, and so they may label themselves incorrectly because they want to feel like they have support in language to communicate a perfectly normal boundary to have and when they get older, hopefully they recognize that.

That's part of why I dislike the fixation on if it's about sex or not! Or even the fixation people have on labels staying stagnant! Lots of people identify as straight or cis or whatever before realizing they're not, and it's okay also for them to have gotten it wrong the first or second or fiftieth time around idk. I have friends that still don't exactly know where they sit on both gender and orientation. I think that's normal! We have our whole lives to navigate!

But also 'who told you that'. Almost everyone around me except maybe some of the xtians (I'm not xtian) and mainly the xtians were more focused on telling me that 14 year old girls weren't interested in those kinds of things, which is why they must be 'protected' from 14 year old boys who are entirely too interested in it and my biology would make me unsafe even after I had, against my will, been medically altered due to complications with my hormones and body.

I don't know. I don't know how to explain what I grew up in. I don't know if it's different cultural expectations, I don't know if it's the ways I was seen as a threat by white people, I don't know. It's not 'who' told me that because 'who' was nearly everyone. But even if they weren't telling me that, even if they were telling me I was 'smart' for not dating or that I probably shouldn't date anyway or that no matter who I dated it would be weird, they also thought it was weird I had no actual interest at all. That I didn't admire celebrities or had crushes or expressed any future interest in it. People thought it was weird as hell I thought the entire construct of it was kind of fake, and yes, I was also autistic and so there was a level of them just thinking I was stupid and developmentally challenged because I was autistic, but that's also part of why they tried to 'fix' it, because my presentation was one where I could 'try' to fit.

But also I know lots of people who were raised xtian and expected to be girls who also got really messed up by the confusing explanations and expectations around it. That hurt themselves because they thought there was something gross or wrong with them as they hit perfectly normal developmental milestones. I was also the outlet for a lot of weird guilt and self-loathing from both boys and girls who viewed me as innately sexual for my relationship to gender. That viewed my medical changes as something somehow for them.

I know it's perfectly normal to not date at 14, I don't know how to be more clear about that, I don't know how to say 'yes I am aware plenty of 14 year olds are figuring themselves out, plenty of them don't know or fake crushes or even will explain they don't know if they've had them yet, I know plenty of them are definitely not interested in sex or dating' and also state 'this is why I'm saying it's not about sex! the ways I was othered and hypersexualized and desexualized are about all the tiny other ways I did not fit into the boxes I was supposed to!'

I was trying to express how having 'asexual' as a term helped me cope. Helped me be more compassionate to my peers. Continues to help me now. That's what labels are even for. That's their use. I was upset seeing someone say "#you’re 15!#you don’t want to have sex! that’s fine!#it’s not an identity!" about a niece identifying as asexual on a post discussing how the op's relationship to crushes/attraction has changed from having a lot of them as a teen to mellowing out a lot as an adult (which is normal, which is why I'm so! fucking confused! on the fucking pushback!!!! on me stating that it was othering! to be a child outside of that and attacked by adults and other children over it!!! and now I'm being told 'nothing about ur experience was abnormal' then why!!! was I constantly!!! told!!! it was!!!).

I mean I can tell you part of why. I am not fucking stupid. I am aware I was 'abnormal' also for my body and my brain and my race. Normalcy is socially constructed and upheld. Something can be atypical but not treated as abnormal, and something can be common but socially classified as abnormal for structural purposes. Like we say 'minority' for nonwhite people as if white people aren't actually STATISTICALLY globally the minority. (Yes, I know, that depending on your country, they are statistically a majority, but they only became the 'majority' in the country I'm in through horrific violence and even in countries where they are statistically the majority it's violently upheld as they push back against nonwhite people moving in blah blah blah, ie still socially upheld through structures).

Like I feel like somehow I'm having entirely different conversations about this.

"like, yeah, hypothetically someone who identifies as ace at 14 and experiences sexual attraction at age 18 can change their label from asexual to allosexual. but will they ACTUALLY do that, though? or will they just call themselves a sex-favorable asexual? when you make lacking attraction a part of your identity, what happens to your sense of identity if you DO experience attraction?"

Okay but I don't CARE? The stigma around changing your orientation label needs to go but also I don't care if they're wrong. It's irritating, yes, and often derails these spaces and discussions, but also like it's their life, I can't make them change their identity. I can just share information on how other people have expressed attraction and learning to navigate it and offer solutions and pose questions on how their relationship may have changed and give examples of people coming into it deeper in adulthood.

There are people that think they aren't ace because they don't care if they have sex, even though they aren't attracted to anyone, and eventually reach a point in their life, sometimes late in it, where they learn about it and go 'oh' and suddenly have a word for this thing that helps them better define their experiences. And I don't mean 18, 18 is so young.

What happens to people who identify legitimately as a gender or orientation they later realize doesn't fit them? I can't control them. I had a friend who thought she was straight and it took a lot of self-reflection for her to realize she was bisexual. She had to be out of an environment where her attraction to women was dismissed, desexualized, and recognized as equal and not diminished by her attraction to men.

I've had friends who had been neutral on men in their lives, who realized they were lesbians only in their 20s because they had been neutral about men they tried to date due to expectations. I know women who transitioned and tried to like men out of gender obligation, who had to work through those feelings and the root of them to actually understand their relationship to orientation.

If we allow space and discussion for the myriad of ways it presents or develops or can be defined, then this becomes less of a fixation point. The fragility of people's identities rooted in NEEDING to strictly define them is not helpful for many, especially younger people. I'm still younger people. I know people who've changed their identities in their 50s. I know there are people I don't personally know who have changed and played with their identities even later in life.

I use language the way I use language because I'm autistic and descriptionist. I can't stop people from being prescriptionist with theirs.

I understand the harm people experience when they cling to identities that no longer suit them. But I can't constantly stop people from harming themselves, I can't control them! I ALSO can feel uncomfortable or out of place when people try to relate to me and utilize the same terms I do but in completely different ways. I don't know how to interact when someone my age comes to me identifying as ace but then also being alarmed when I do not relate to the ways they categorize attraction or lack thereof. It can be very strange to do so. A lack of something is even harder to define than the existence of something.

"also i need to point out that there are literal biological functions that are not done developing until you are over 18. your body and brain and hormones are still growing. you definitely cannot say with any certainty that anyone below the age of 16 knows they experience sexual attraction or not"

Okay, and again, they can just change how they define it. People biologically change their whole lives. Menopause biologically changes people but it doesn't mean that for the period of their life before they may utilize labels to describe their experience before that point, or that those identities may still be important to them after that point.

I didn't say they always know or correctly define if they experience attraction or not? I don't think people can really say with any certainty until they have reason to feel certain. I think people can be 16 and not know and 25 and not know and 52 and not know.

As stated before, I'm intersex. I was also medically altered in a way that potentially is part of why I do not experience attraction idk. I know people who were medically altered similarly who do experience attraction. Idk. I would say 'I don't care' if it would have been different otherwise, but I do care actually, I care a lot, but my reality is what it is now and it has been incredibly harmful to me to try and 'treat' it. If something changes, I will change my identity, and not feel ashamed that I utilized language the way I needed to while it was relevant to me.

I'm autistic and intersex. I don't. I don't know how to phrase this but like. I have never been developmentally categorized as in the position of 'normal.' Because normal is socially defined and enforced. There are stages and ranges that are categorized as 'normal.' People who do not fit those stages or ranges are treated differently. Sometimes they utilize language for it. I don't. Like that's all it is to me.

"finally i need you to understand that by emphasizing “hey, it’s actually completely fine and normal to not be interested in sex at all when you’re in high school” it actually helps prevent teens from being sexually abused. “most teens are allosexual” is NOT the message you want to be spreading."

It is in fact true that emphasizing to children that it is their right and completely fine and acceptable and a boundary they can uphold to not be interested in sex in high school, this is good and useful and helpful. Giving them language for that is important, regardless of why they need it.

It is also important to help prevent abuse by giving them better language and resources on how they may be developing sexually and that they do not need to be ashamed of interest or engage in unsafe sexual practices as a way to explore that. I had friends literally manipulated by the idea that there was something shameful in their development that was only suitable for adults to 'manage' for them and it was part of their exploitation. This is in fact an aspect of abstinence-only education being a failure.

Children also need to be taught even if they ARE developing sexual interest, they can also develop boundaries around it anyway! Shame, confusion, hiding, whatever about this literally directly leads a lot of teenagers into the arms of predators. It alarms and concerns me this topic can somehow shift into statements that may further confuse these lines, so I want to be very clear.

And I want to also state I don't. Ugh. I don't think children by and large actually are easily defined as 'majority straight' or 'majority allosexual' or anything like that. I think that obviously the majority of people meet that, hence my earlier statement of noticing a kind of othering, but I don't actually think that means it's fair to label hordes of children as either straight or allosexual or even cis because it is in fact typical that they wouldn't even know or have a definitive enough relationship to it.

Feeling drawn to describing an experience you have with language that is about how you've felt othered doesn't even mean no one else involved could later define themselves with those terms. Some of the people who were cruel to me found out later they were boys or found out later they were girls or found out later they were gay or found out later they were intersex in a different way from me even.

I AGREE that children should be taught they are allowed to have boundaries??? I agree that children should be taught it's acceptable and valid and completely within their right to not have crushes or interest in dating or interest in sex or be more focused on their other experiences (like poverty, like disability, like race, like trauma, like education, like gender, like media interests, like whatever else??) over defining themselves and their gender and their orientation?

I think we should in fact encourage that it is okay to not know or not need to know yet. I think we should encourage people to realize they don't have to rush experiences they aren't ready for. I have friends whose first relationship was 25 and they never identified as ace or aro, they just were never in a position to get into that part of themselves for a variety of reasons. I don't. I do not understand the reaction to what I've said.

I was upset because an individual child individually defined themselves and some adult in their life was alarmed by a fairly simple identity that was not in any way some permanent or damning aspect. I'm upset because in 2020 I saw some adult literally tell a middle-grade child who identified as asexual on the internet they were 'attracting pedophiles' by identifying publicly as ace. An adult thought it was appropriate to define it that way and say that kind of thing to a child because of the child's identity. A whole lot of other adults agreed with it and kept going on about the inherently sexual nature of the term meant to describe an orientation.

It's just weird. When I told my mom in high school, she became fixated on the ways she might have broken me or made me that way. She became focused on listing all the possible other explanations and getting me to counseling and then devolved into belittling me for it, when all it was was an explanation for how I felt I was experiencing the world. It helped my friends be kinder to me. It helped me be kinder to my friends. It still helps me navigate the ways I may be unable to relate to others.

#idk #acephobia #idk I just feel like ppl need this tagged bc it's very upsetting??? #other trigger warnings listed before read more

[cantsaythetword]

Crow's Boundaries:

This is quite a long post but if you want the tl;dr without the ins and outs it's basically this:

- This blog is 18+ followers/interactions only ^^, so no minors please

- Headcanons / fic requests can be requested on my writing account @cantwritethetword

- Ask/anon teasing is all g for the most part

- For DM teasing, close CLOSE friends only (and even then, might not be in the mood for it lmao)

Before I get into it, just repeating that even tho this is an adults only space, this is a SFW blog! So please don't send any NSFW stuff/pics/concepts to me :)

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TAGS:

I use the following tags so feel free to block/follow accordingly:

# he speaks - me rambling about anything and everything lmao

# kinda a vent post - me being stressed / depressed / lemon zest

# zesty (or # kinda zesty) - almost solely used for gifs/fanart that show a lot of skin or uses any kind of bondage stuff (NOT LINKED TO LEMON ZEST ABOVE THAT ONE WAS JUST A JOKEY SAYING)

# irl twords - pretty much what it says on the tin. Any gifs or photos of actual tickling.

# ask - also pretty self-explanatory. For any asks that I receive (anons will always be also tagged # anon)

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TEASES / TICKLE TALK:

General Rules:

- For the most part, teases/tkl talk in ASKS ONLY, and it'll probably only go back and forth once or twice so as not to clog up people's feeds

- Keep it v much sfw !!!

- I'm not really big on rp, more of just fun snarky teases and stuff (hence tickle talk) :)

- Don't send teases in the hopes I will turn the tables

- DM teasing/talk is ONLY for close friends

- Teases/talk from people I'm not close with is generally ok over asks/anons/reblogs but again, very very much sfw only

- I may not respond to teases, and that is nothing personal. I just might not be feeling it OR it might breach one of the rules above ^^

Thank

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POSTS:

- if you're commenting on something and it's not my post (i.e. I'm not the OP), don't spam teases throughout the comments section pls

- if you want to add a lil tease into a reblog, please keep teases/tickle talk that are specific to me in the tags (ESPECIALLY IF IT'S NOT MY POST) to not spam people's dashes

- if you're adding a generic tease as an addition to a post I've made (e.g. this one) then that's all g (cause it's kind of just adding to the post? idk if it makes sense)

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ASKS:

- keep it sfw (as I said at the start lol)

- I'm actually terrible at responding to asks half the time, but I will get there eventually! please be patient lmao

- if you're sending an anon, add a lil sign off or an emoji so I know who you are lmao

- gonna add this here too, any sort of ask teases in anons will probably only go back and forth once or twice so as not to clog up people's feeds

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MESSAGES:

- anyone can DM me (but no promises that I'll answer lol)

- no tickle talk or teases straight off the bat

- I don't do rp, at all, sorry lol

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Holy shit ok we good. Thank you for reading all of this!!! <3

If you have any questions about anything or need me to clarify things feel free to hmu either through asks or DMs ^^

#he speaks #interaction list #boundaries #rules #blog rules #mine

[ask-rw-dark-au]

Hello, you don't really need to answer this ask. I just enjoy your blog and well, idn, I just want to give a little bit of advice/encouragement. I'm bad with words, specially in English, which is not my first language, please don't take this as an insult or offense, I really tried to just come here in friendly terms (terms? That's how you said it? Idn 😅)

What I wanted to say it's, whatever you do in any fandom it's always best to do it for intrinsic motivators, specially if the fandoms are small. Having engament it's great, I'm a fanfic writer, I know that feeling of seeing any comment in my stories, but I learned long ago that I must do things for myself, for my personal enjoyment and fulfilment.

Don't get me wrong, i enjoy your blog, you will probably figure out who I am bc I'm gonna reblog stuff lmao but you know, do this for your own personal happiness, not to seek engament. I have stories from 2013 and even 2015 that to this day have no comments but I'm fine with it. I really enjoyed writing them and I'm proud of them, even if they have almost no engament at all, I wouldn't delete them for any reason <3

What I try to say it's try to not seek motivation in extrinsic motivators like engament and just do it to have fun! Do it for you, not expecting attention, but to just have fun and feel nice inside. Do gender bend, play with sexuality and relationships, explore and come out with new designs and lore, and enjoy it fully. Don't be afraid to take breaks if you need and come back when you feel like yeah, I wanna have fun with this again! I may be shooting myself in the foot since I'm saying dude take a break if you need, that it's totally fine, even tho I wnana see more of your ideas, but seriously, your personal enjoyment comes first :D

So yeah, have fun, ignore the haters and all that people that don't get what Au means can go live under a rock ;v

Have a nice day/night 😘

thank you so much for the ask !!!!! im answering it so other people can see since i think this is a really really good message,,,

i do my best to do things for my own enjoyment, and i do absolutely LOVE this au and i love making it :3333

however, ive always struggled with doing things i enjoy because of how often its ignored by friends, family, ect, so im prone to forgetting even though it was enjoyable

engagement helps me remember it exists, helps me get new ideas, and mostly helps me know that its worth posting to places. i dont enjoy doing things when nobody knows it exists, and although im not sure why, its kinda just how it goes for me idk man SHGSSGD

ive been taking breaks periodically throughout winter break, and thats why i usually answer asks in short bursts since it means they all build up and then i can answer them all at once :3 i get myself hyped to answer and then i can and it works pretty well for me,,,

fr man i think. i think that "au" is a bigpart of the "ask rw dark au"

sure, just about nothing in this au is the same as canon, but thats. thats the point of an au im just silly like that !!!!!!

ive been working on not relying on engagement to enjoy things, ive been getting better about it and i have been able to make things just because i like them

idk if it makes sense or not, but sometimes it feels like i shouldnt enjoy something when nobody else does or seems to, you know? ive struggled with people pleasing for years as well as having problems with adhd / anxiety (unmedicated) making it difficult for me to kinda just. do things guh

im not saying this bc i disagree because i dont at all i completely agree with what youre saying and i do genuinely appreciate this !!!!!

im working on getting better abt it and i think im going to delete the reblog post soon just because i dont really think its worth it, hopefully if i just keep answering asks and making designs and drawing these silly creatures ill be able to get past the worry that people dont like it and just start posting because i like it !!!

thank you so much !!!!!!!

[captain-hen]

I saw your tags on a reblog about the show always preferring drama right from S1. I agree with that post completely. I was just wondering why you phrased one of your tags as "buck sleeps with his therapist". It always rubs me the wrong way when people say that. Surely it should be "buck was taken advantage of when he was vulnerable by a therapist who should have her license revoked"? I really really don't wish to start discourse about the show, especially not from something that happened back in S1, and I'm already kinda annoyed at myself for not being able to ignore this and get on with my day. But this particular topic... he wasn't in a state of mind to to provide proper consent and the sentence structure of "he slept with someone" makes Buck the person who chose to take the action on or with someone else. It places the responsibility on him. It's just like all those headlines of "A attacked by XYZ" instead of "XYZ attack A". Why put the onus on the victim? I just don't understand why most people seem to speak about that scene as if it was "just buck being buck"? Surely using the right words to describe that scene is important? Even years later? I don't know the law in different countries but I think it borders on malpractice and/or assault? I know there's all this debate about the overlap between fiction and morality, but surely that's about not judging what fiction real people read? But we've still got to label fictional events for what they are, right? Like, dub-con is dub-con, whether it happens in a fictional or real setting. If we refuse to do that just because it's fictional characters, that's a very slippery slope, I feel. In the long-term, I feel like it could influence what real situations get classified as dub-con. Hopefully not to a level of changing legal/medical systems, but I could see this mentality influencing someone younger or more vulnerable into thinking that such situations are their fault or responsibility instead of the person who has the power. It just seems so wrong to me to talk about this in such a casual joking manner.

look, i get your concerns, but i think you're making a very unfair assumption about my interpretation of that plot point based on a single tag i left on a post—a tag that wasn't even about that scene entirely, but just to point out that the bucklucy kiss doesn't even touch the list of questionable things this show has done. i didn't feel the need to expand on how wrong what his therapist did was—and i do know that it was terrible, and i've talked about it with friends in private messages—because i assumed its a general consensus around here that it was wrong and it didn't need to be discussed further. idk, i had just woken up and i left a brief comment on a post that was already not a very serious one to begin with, this was in no way me trying to minimize what happened. my point wasn't even about the scene with the therapist at all, it was about the fact that the show has done a lot worse, especially in s1.

#neethu answers #anon #fandom discourse

[thefirstknife]

your friends literally called fluxphage a zionist just because they're israeli, probably should make one of your callouts about that

This is really bizarre. These are not sources. If you want to claim that someone is sending antisemitic harassment, you will have to send me proof. Like, solid proof. I need to see a post, ask, discord message, private dm or SOMETHING substantial that shows the name of these people attached to antisemitic harassment. You cannot just CLAIM that they did it.

I posted the second ask as a screenshot and blocked out the name of the person because they asked me to do so because they were actually harassed over this and sent public death threats. For which I do have proof and I will provide it below.

I don't know Chuddy and have never spoken to them and I don't know what's their tumblr url, but I asked my other friends and they told me Chuddy is Jewish. So it's absolutely not my place to talk about the nuances of this interaction, especially since I don't know either person.

Faggocd is also Jewish. And falconschase is engaged to a Jewish person. So idk, if you want to claim that 2 Jewish people and another that is literally family with a Jewish person are sending antisemitic harassment.... You will have to bring some solid evidence. Otherwise it's incredibly grim to say that.

Misgendering seems to be an accident. I can't find where they were misgendered, but from what I've been told, both chuddy and faggocd have simply not checked the pronouns. Faggocd said he visited the blog once, to block Flux and that's it. There's a difference between malicious misgendering and a mistake.

Surely Fluxphage knows this because they did it to me literally right now:

"Their" buddies? My pronouns are she/her.

As an extra nitpicky sidenote, I don't go by "Bell." I go by "Bel."

I won't hold this against them because it's an easy mistake to make, but I was also just misgendered and had my name misspelled. I don't think it's malicious. I would ask Flux to employ the same standards to other people.

[Omitted the bits about zionism because it was overall apparently a misunderstanding and a mistake on part of Flux for not vetting people they reblogged from.]

This is literally not something I can or should comment on, it's just something that Jewish friends have told me as the reason for why they dislike Flux. There are other reasons that I also can't really speak about because I am not transmasc and it revolves around transmasc issues that these people (who are transmasc) disagree on with Flux. This is not my fight nor have I ever been engaged in it nor do I know any of the details.

The following is the only post made by falconschase that mentions Flux and it had the name written in this way to prevent Flux from seeing negative stuff about them in tags or search:

The other post from the person whose name I redacted is this:

I'm sorry, but this is not antisemitic harassment? It's literally just a note for mutuals to block someone. You don't know why. Maybe because they hate their tumblr theme. Nobody owes anyone an explanation about why they unfollowed or blocked someone. It is literally a one sentence post aimed at mutuals.

If there is something else that I am not aware of, you will, again, have to give me proof. Otherwise it's incredibly shitty to jump to conclusions and say that Jewish people and people with Jewish family are sending antisemitic harassment. Especially that they're sending antisemitic harassment because... of these posts? Is that what this is referring to?

I do have proof of harassment against the user whose name I blocked because they were incredibly upset and distressed over logging onto tumblr and seeing several posts mentioning them with violent threats involved. This is by Flux' friend, Unsaelig who was mentioned in the ask I am bringing this up only because she was mentioned and because we're talking about supposed harassment sent by redacted, when this is the sort of shit redacted was being bombarded with at the time:

This is over redacted making a post that said "block Flux and Unsaelig" which had 3 notes.

This person wants to avoid further harassment and further threats like these being made. This is gross behaviour. As of now, no one that I know has ever engaged with this further because nobody wants to be the next subject of threats of violence.

Are we going to talk about this harassment? The person most of these were about asked not to engage and not to make any drama so we stayed silent and hoped it would go away. We don't want anything to do with either of the people involved. Nobody did anything to them besides said "block them" to their mutuals. I don't know how antisemitic harassment plays into this or how it was connected to this. Flux being Jewish was never mentioned and it wasn't referenced in any way.

Some of these posts included transphobia directed to two transmasc people who were being harassed:

You do know this is transphobic? My transmasc friends were quite upset by a barrage of this crap while they were being actively tagged in those posts.

Calling transmasc people "he/they shaky repulsive purse-dogs" is really transphobic and vile. Multiple of my transmasc friends were incredibly disturbed and hurt by this. You can claim these are jokes all you want, but they hurt people. Jokes can be bad and these "jokes" were bad. Also a lot of them were straight up misgendered because not all of them go by "he/they." So if we want to talk about misgendering again, multiple of my friends were repeatedly misgendered for months.

This is the type of a source I'm looking for, btw. Unless you give me proof that the people you named have sent antisemitic harassment (two of whom are Jewish, one of whom is engaged to a Jewish person and all of whom are transmasc), you (whoever sent this ask) are an asshole and a liar.

I can provide links for all of these posts, if someone doubts they are real, I just really want to avoid revealing the redacted person's name because they asked me to do so. Example of a link for one of the posts where the redacted user isn't mentioned directly.

I don't know what's going on with Flux and I don't want to argue with them or for them to be sent antisemitic harassment. Neither do any of the people you mentioned. I don't care about Unsaelig or anything in regards to that group of people, we don't have to agree or be friends. I hope they find their peace and find out who sent them harassment. I don't wish any kind of harassment on anyone, definitely not of antisemitic nature.

But don't invent things? About people you know nothing about? Especially something like saying that several Jewish people were sending antisemitic harassment to someone.

This isn't a callout post. Everyone is free to make their own decisions from this information. These are the sources I have and was given to explain the situation. If someone wants to show me sources and proof that people mentioned here have sent antisemitic harassment to Flux, I am open to listen. I know that's not the case because as I said, multiple of them are Jewish, so you know.

Unlike these anonymous askers, I take time to investigate the situation and back up what I say with sources. It takes more than 2 minutes to compile a post like this. I apologise if you stood refreshing my blog for 2 hours while I was consulting several of my Jewish and transmasc friends and asking them about the harassment they went through.

Lying really isn't going to get you anywhere. It's just making things worse for you actually. The only note mentioning Flux in my post:

All notes as of me responding:

#discourse #long post #ask

[anulithots]

The Rose. Episode 3 - "Petals"

I like Rose now. Fae gave me a reason to talk about the only one I couldn't save.

A tumblr houseplant story from @briarborealisart

The info post is here

Episode one - "Thorns"

Episode two - "Maidoe"

Note - this is still a first draft, any feedback would be much appreciated. Especially for this one, this is a super interesting concept to explore, but my brain found it so difficult, and comments on if I got to the core of this would be appreciated. <3

---------

Rose waved faer tail. Fae did that. By faerself. Grown to the tallest heights in a place as tame as this. The same could not be said for the other houseplants.

Rose brushed the dirt off faer tail. "I think it's neat."

Puddles hummed. "It is neat" 

Rose flicked faer ears." It took quite a lot of effort."

 "I know" 

 "And it turned out quite nice"

"It did"

"I think its better than having lots of little flowers like Shamrock" 

"Shamrock would disagree with you there"

Rose shook fair head. "I'm pretty sure the splendor of my flower would impress quite a few more pollinators in the wild. In this stale place? Are faer flowers better? Debatable. But the objective fact of the wild is that my flower is superior."

"Okay Rose"

 Rose startled.

" What? No debates? Have you finally admitted defeat?" 

Puddles rubbed the base of faer ears. "It's nothing major. I'm just... really tired."

Rose fluffed up fair ears. "Well there is a simple procedure-"

"Thank you Rose, but I don't - "

Rose tapped Puddles on the snout. "Shush shush. In the wild. signs of weakness grow into an insurmountable predicament. Take it from the bona-fide growth expert..." Rose gave puddles a once over, "You spend too much time daydreaming. But not to worry, the unveiled ignorance will reveal the best possible path -"

"Rose. I didn't ask"

"That's part of the problem. You don't see things until it's too late."

"Rose. Not now."

"Ah, but when? The answer is always now, for you could miss the solutions-"

Puddles stood. Rose blinked. Why did- didn't Puddles need assistance? Rose had plenty to offer, all faer points were valid. There should not be a problem. This was all fae had to offer.

Puddles rubbed fair muzzle. "I - I need some alone time. Okay?"

"I wouldn't reccomend it"

"Thankfully, I'm too tired to care"

Rose bristled. "Fine. But don't come later seeking the advice I am so graciously offering you-"

Puddles turned and left.

Rose stuttered.

Puddles could come at any time for advice.

Rose would never refuse giving advice.

Same with Puddles.

Rose flicked faer ears. No. Something was wrong.

---

[next episode - "wild"]

Having Rose be from the wild and thinking fae is superior, along with wanting to "be faerself with no filter" is just... so interesting to me.

These first three episodes are the ones I wrote at a two am writing session, and I stopped here.

There shall be more episodes on the way tho <3

Annnndddd.. quick question, I think it would be fun to do a "special plant themed tumblr-wholsomeness challenge" once the garden reaches five plants, something like a "send a nice message", maybe a "everyone do some self-care and buy a plant?" IDK, I like the idea of collective things.

if you don't mind the little self-promo: reblog this with one kind statement to "water" rose, let's spread some wonder to this convoluted place <3

And spread the word to anyone else who would like to add their houseplant to the garden, perhaps we can fill tumblr with houseplants.

#writeblr #the land of the fallen fairies #the tumblr houseplant series rose #the tumblr houseplant series #tumblr's houseplants #congrats tumblr #you got a garden now #full of plants with some sort of personal issues #very on brand

[gayforcarstairsgirls]

So you kinda seem like the person to als advice. No need to answer this, so please don't feel any pressure!!!

So I'm 15 y/o and in Highschool. I'm in my 4th year out of 6. There are lots of nice people at my school, really! But I struggle to fit in. I'm kinda in this huge 'friend group' of like, idk, 15-20 people? But I never get asked to hang out and every now and then I hear of some party I'm not invited to. And I've tried. So many fucking times, where I have come to the point that I can say I don't have any friends and for the coming 2 years at school I won't have any. I have tried socializing with other friendgroups but that also didn't work out.

It makes me feel lonely. Don't worry, I'm reaching out for help and I can easily talk about it with my parents. But it's kinda shitty to go to school every day.

Do you have any advice? Or maybe your followers have? But once again, no pressure! Love you <3

Hi anon! First of all, thank you for reaching out to me, hopefully I can help you in some way! (But also I am very sorry if this advice is not very helpful) <33

Honestly I'm really sorry you're struggling with friends at school, I've been in a position before of going to school without any real friends there so I know that it's really not fun and how lonely you must feel

I guess my first piece of advice is to find other smaller groups of people rather than the large friend group (which is easy for me to say, I know you've already tried ofc) and even if you don't try to hang out with them outright, just maybe talk to some different people in lessons, maybe you'll find someone that you can spend a bit more time with? There's probably people in your year or other years who share your interests, it's just not always easy to find them!

Secondly, I would guess that maybe you're not the only person in the bigger group who is kind of on the outside? Is there anyone else in it that doesn't get invited to things or maybe is less happy with them? Cause being lonely is a surprisingly effective bonding tool I won't lie (obviously depends on who is in the group). Also remember that during the two years you will probably have new students, the dynamic of a year group and different friendship groups can really change over that time

I'm aware that these things are way easier said than done and may not apply to your particular situation, but also please remember how many friends you can make online! Please please feel free to message me or send me more asks (anon or not, whatever makes you comfortable), and I'm sure other people on here feel the same way!! Fandom is a great way to make friends, online and irl :)

Based on personal experience really what I did was read books all day until I moved to a different school and found friends there instead, so I'm aware that this advice is probably kind of limited in its helpfulness, but I hope that at least something I've said can help you xx

Anyone else who sees this post and has any other advice please feel free to reblog or add in the comments!! 'Twould be much appreciated

#asks #anon #advice #hopefully useful advice #if it's not useful or there's something else you wanna say/ask pls feel free!! #my asks are always open <33