#either way thanks for not vagueing on your blog and force me 2 find a surprise and instead come bravely to my face with anon hate

[ocean-sapphics]

what are ocean sapphics? & flags!

'ocean' is the umbrella grouping term for presentation labels that lesbian & bi/pan sapphics can use regarding femininity, masculinity, and androgyny.

these terms were initially coined by strwbryfemme on twitter, using their gimmick account sapphicimagines back in january of 2022. both accounts have since been deactivated and therefore this thread is long gone. i found them in an old flag hoard album on my camera roll recently and decided to respectfully reupload them in case anyone else would enjoy.

NOTE #1: i will not be putting the rest of this, admittedly quite long, post under a ‘read more’ cut due to the fact that all the information would be lost if someone decided to reblog it and the original post ended up gone sometime in the future. you would not be able to view anything under it, since whatever is there can only be seen on the original page. i apologize if you have to scroll a lot because of this, but that’s unfortunately one of the many inconvenient ways tumblr works.

NOTE #2 (MUST READ): i felt it would be best to swap their usage of 'pearl' to mean masc, not androgyne. this is because these chosen words feel unbalanced in their meanings to me. 'ocean' feels too broad and vague to cover just one category (hence why i made it overarching instead), and doesn't fit its place in the hierarchy of the theme. it'd be like saying, for example: 'cat' is fem, 'animal' is masc, and 'dog' is androgynous; instead of saying 'cat' is fem, 'dog' is masc, and 'furry' (lmao idk ok? bear with me) is androgynous. i then turned what was previously 'pearl' into 'coral' as a replacement, since that made more sense from my perspective. if this confuses you while reading the tweets below, i have put my corrections for the labels/flags in alt text, which you can click on each image to access. if that doesn't help, feel free to ask questions. i tried to make this as easy and least complex as possible, so i apologize if that didn't work.

NOTE #3: if cat (strwbryfemme) and/or atlas (ilikegaycookies, who designed the bi flags btw) finds this and would like me to take it down, i will do so upon request, directly or indirectly, and also delete this blog. i intend no disrespect to either of you and i'm posting this because i like your ideas and don't want them to rot and be forgotten anymore than they already have. i edited the words themselves because i thought they would fit better, but i can also revert them back to their original versions if need be.

with that out of the way, let’s get onto the flags first!

sapphic:

lesbian:

bisexual:

information (REMINDER THAT I HAVE RE-COINED A COUPLE OF TERMS. READ ALT TEXT TO KNOW WHICH WORDS TO SWAP OUT WHEN READING THE SCREENSHOTS!):

any and all help with IDs/PTs are appreciated! i do not have the spoons to write them out as of now due to the rest of the work i'm putting into this post, but if someone wants to volunteer then i can put all the text into a rentry (or multiple) and edit it here to make the images more accessible to disabled readers. thank you!

here is some more stuff i would like to add (please also read these too if you are interested in claiming, or even if you are not on board with all this):

you should keep in mind that i am a white tme bi sapphic who knows my history and claims 'butch', so i will not argue about butch/femme discourse because i strongly support the terms not being lesbian-exclusive. however, it should be understood that i still know my place and privilege regarding other applicable aspects and do not wish to offend anyone or start discourse here. this post is simply a reupload and attempt at re-suggesting cute terms for personal use only, entirely by choice. they are not designed to be forced on anyone or become mainstream, especially not to replace femme/butch/futch or even the infamous doe/stag/tomcat. you do not have to like these or agree with them. you are allowed to dismiss the idea and move on as it wasn't made to erase or hurt anyone. please hold anyone who does spread these in bad faith accountable, thanks.

with that being said, it is my opinion that we should grant their wishes for wanting to keep this series exclusive to the sapphic community. i do not personally consider either of these individuals to be overall 'bad people', even if we disagree on some things heavily. they still deserve respect for the positive contributions they have made to our community, which is why, again, i will remove all of the above without hesitation if asked by a credible messenger.

one last thing to be reminded of ─ if anyone else ends up playing around with the theme of these terms + flags, for any given reason (such as designing pan/trans/enby/etc. versions), please do not use the word 'fish', especially if you are also white, as that already exists within a Black-exclusive context to be a cultural identity adjacent to 'femme'! i will not speak or give an opinion about what to do or not if you are Black, as i'm sure you will be able to take it from there.

this is not necessary to read, so you can stop now lol ─ anyway, thank you for your attention, and enjoy! reblogs are appreciated, and comments will be listened to. if you have any complaints directed towards the content itself, then i unfortunately cannot help you with that as said content is not really mine. however, i will try to respond to stuff related to my act of reuploading and/or adjusting the terminology. remember that i self-identify as butch and am critical of coining ideas with a similar purpose to doe/stag, but obviously i am not against it. as long as you can understand my point of view, your opinions will matter, even if they (respectfully!) dissent. have a lovely rest of your day/night!

#sapphic #wlw #nblw #lesbian #lesbian sapphic #bisexual #bi sapphic #sapphic flags #lesbian flags #bi flags #ocean sapphic #shell sapphic #pearl sapphic #coral sapphic #fem #femme #masc #butch #androgynous #long post

[ivarthebadbitch]

Strange things can happen

Chapter 15 summary: Ubbe attempts to turn on the charm for Aldreda, and Ivar has some unexpected visitors.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 2466

Notes: Yes, I know I said no chapter this week, but lucky(?) for you, I actually got my shit together. No promises for next week though!

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare @danisnotsosecret (let me know if you would like to be tagged)

CHAPTER 15: All we can do is...

Although Aldreda had by her own choice been sequestered in a spare room for much of the day after speaking to her grandfather, with no particular desire to see or talk to anybody, the news of the unexpected arrival of Ragnar Lothbrok and his son Ubbe around sundown had trickled in nevertheless. Not for the first time, she wanted to be a thousand miles away from this place. Getting herself smuggled out of the palace in a wine barrel increasingly sounded like a reasonable solution to all her problems. Maybe Ivar had been on to something after all.

But before she could start planning her escape in earnest, there was a knock on the door. She reluctantly got up to answer it. It turned out to be her father, with a vaguely familiar-looking Northman hovering behind him in the hallway. Her heart immediately sank. 

“Aldreda, may I present Ragnar Lothbrok’s other son, Ubbe,” he said with a strained smile, motioning for Ivar’s brother to step forward. She was extremely relieved in that moment that she was still dressed and did not have to meet Ivar’s brother while wearing her nightgown.

After glancing at Aethelwulf, Ubbe hesitated and dipped into what Aldreda supposed was some sort of bow. Then, to her surprise, he took her hand and kissed it. “Hello,” he said in English.

She let go of his hand and curtsied back awkwardly. “My lord Ubbe, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

He stared at her in confusion. Her father nudged her and murmured, “I don’t think he knows our language.”

“Oh,” she said. Embarrassingly enough, though Ivar’s English had improved to a remarkable degree in the past couple months, the same could not be said for her Norse. She frantically tried to recall her vocabulary. “Ah...how are you?”

He seemed relieved to hear her speak his language, however badly, and he smiled at her. “Our journey was long and difficult, but I am better now that I have met you.”

She had no idea what to say to that in either language. “Thank you,” she finally replied. Then she turned to her father. “I would like to speak to you,” she said in English.

He looked surprised. “Oh, of course. Right now?”

“Yes.” She tilted her head at Ubbe. “And alone.”

“Right.” Her father grasped Ubbe by the elbow and then escorted him back into the hallway with a polite smile before closing the door in his face.

“What is going on, Father?” she demanded once the door was closed.

He took a seat at the desk and ran his hands through his hair wearily. “Should the annulment proceed—and now it certainly will—Ragnar Lothbrok has proposed that you marry Ubbe. Your grandfather was receptive to the idea.”

She supposed she should have expected this: to be handed off immediately to the next available suitor with no say of her own, or even the faintest gesture that her feelings might have mattered in the least. Somehow, foolishly, she had thought that maybe this time would be different. But clearly she was mistaken. Judith had been right after all.

“And you?” she asked in a small voice. 

Her father sighed and looked away. “I did not like the idea of you marrying Ivar,” he said. “Neither of you even had time to get to know each other before you wed, though I admit I was too quick to judge him. You did your duty, of course, for the good of Wessex. But sometimes our hearts pull us in other directions, and that is no sin. Though your grandfather and Ragnar Lothbrok would like this matter resolved quickly, I have requested that you be allowed to decide whether the match is to proceed, and that Ubbe be baptized into our faith. They have agreed to these conditions.”

She threw herself into his arms without hesitation. “Thank you,” she whispered, hugging him tightly. Then she stepped back with a frown. “What will happen to Ivar?”

“The king has decided that the annulment can be formalized the day after tomorrow, once the final details have been worked out with Ragnar Lothbrok,” he said. “Afterwards, Ivar will return to Kattegat with his father. Ubbe will remain here and preparations will be made for the engagement. Tomorrow, you should spend at least a little time with him.”

She nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. It is for the best, she told herself for the thousandth time. Ivar could hate her if that was what he needed. She hoped he wouldn’t.

Her father squeezed her shoulder. “All my life, I have tried to do the right thing for my country, and my father, and my god,” he said. “I believed that if doing the right thing came at the expense of my personal happiness, then the cost was worth it. But now I see that these two things may not always be in opposition to each other. Sometimes happiness can be the right thing, and I would very much wish for all my children to be happy. I am sure that your mother would have wanted the same.” 

“Yes, Father,” she whispered. She was a woman now; she knew she should maintain her composure and not weep in front of him. Once she started, she would not be able to stop.

It must have been obvious. “Oh, my dear,” her father said gently, pulling her close and touching his forehead to hers, and she lost herself entirely. She sobbed in his arms for what felt like an eternity as he patted her back and murmured soothing words. Finally, as her sobs began to subside, he poured her a cup of water from the pitcher on the desk and gave her his handkerchief to wipe her eyes.

“You always raised me to understand my duty towards others came first,” she said once she could speak again. She blew her nose and returned the handkerchief. “In a way, that made everything easier, because then I could say I didn’t have a choice. But what if I make the wrong choice now? What if I make a mistake and I don’t know how to fix it?”

He squeezed her hand. “We can’t always fix everything,” he said. “All we can do is the best that we can.”

With that, her father smiled and left her. Alone in her room, she undressed, blew out the candles, and climbed into bed. She didn’t think she would sleep at all that night, but somehow she had exhausted herself. Within minutes of closing her eyes, she was fast asleep.

                                                              **

When Ivar woke in the morning, the sun was already shining high in the sky and flooding the room with light. He hadn’t meant to sleep for so long. Usually, Aldreda would wake before him, and she would eventually nudge him to get up. But she hadn’t slept there last night, presumably having found herself another room for the time being. Of course, it hardly made sense for them to continue to share a bed if they were no longer going to be married.

His stomach growled and he suddenly realized he was ravenous. He might have elected to stay in bed all day otherwise, having nowhere else to go and nothing to do, but he finally forced himself up, washed his face, and slowly got dressed. Then he crawled over to the door, and finding it still locked from the outside, he banged on it until an annoyed guard opened it and glared down at him.

“Does King Ecbert mean for me to starve?” he snapped.

The guard closed the door in his face without a word, but within ten minutes, a servant came by with a plate of food and then hurried out before Ivar could make any additional demands. He wolfed his breakfast down in minutes. Once he was done, he picked up the plate and turned it around in his hands a few times. Even though he felt a little better after eating, he thought he would feel much better if he threw the plate at the locked door.

The moment it left his hands, the door opened without warning and his father stepped inside. The plate struck him squarely in the chest and bounced off. It clattered around noisily on the floor until Ragnar bent down with a groan to pick it up and set it on the table. 

“Father,” Ivar said in what he hoped was a steady voice, staring up at him.

“Ivar.” Ragnar sighed and sank down to the ground with his back to the door and legs splayed. “I am meeting again with King Ecbert today. Tomorrow morning, you’ll go to the priest and the marriage will be annulled. Then you and I will return right away to Kattegat while Ubbe remains here to be formally engaged to Aldreda. You will do this without making a scene and embarrassing your people, your family, and yourself. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Father,” he said dully.

“Hm.” Ragnar tilted his head back against the door. “Do you have anything to say to me, boy?” 

He had spent hours since yesterday working through various defenses and excuses for his behavior, but in that moment, his mind went blank. He picked at the fabric of his pants, overcome by emotion. “You left me,” he said at last, his voice suddenly breaking. “You left me again and you didn’t even bother to ask how I felt about it.”

Ragnar watched him in silence. As a child, Ivar had seen his father as a giant, unreachable and untouchable, but in this moment, sitting across from him—all he looked like was a tired old man, nothing like the great king and warrior he had always idolized. 

“I remember, you know,” Ivar continued. “Sigurd said I just dreamed it and I couldn’t possibly remember because I was only a baby back then, and maybe he’s right, but it doesn’t matter. I remember looking up at your face. I remember you leaving me somewhere cold. You said you did it because you thought my legs were a weakness and I would die anyway. But I don’t care anymore why you left me. I just want to know if you’re sorry that you did it.”

Without taking his eyes off him, Ragnar slowly got to his feet. “Do you think you’re the first child to be left by his father?” he asked harshly. “I survived. You survived. The gods willed it. It doesn’t matter whether I’m sorry or not.”

With that, he turned and left as abruptly as he had come, leaving Ivar sitting alone on the floor. He sat there in silence and watched the shadows creep along the walls and listened to the sounds of the servants walking by in the hall, laughing and arguing cheerfully. If the door had been unlocked, he would have been tempted to charge out of the room, snarling curses to make them turn and run, but Ragnar had of course been careful to lock the door behind him. Even if his father was not sorry, he was ashamed of what he had done, Ivar realized. It still hurt. But he remembered what Aethelwulf had told him in the carriage: that he didn’t have to make the same mistakes as his parents; that it was possible to be better. He hoped he was right.

With nothing else to do, Ivar finally hauled himself back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling as the sun gradually sank below the horizon. He tried without success to avoid thinking about Aldreda, who was probably off having dinner with Ubbe and blushing when he smiled at her. His brothers all knew how to charm women; a skill he had never bothered to try to pick up—what was the use? He’d never be like them. 

He unsuccessfully tried to wrench his thoughts away from Aldreda and Ubbe and plan for his future back in Kattegat, but he just couldn’t shake the image out of his mind. If Ubbe really could make her happy, though...if this was really what she wanted...well, maybe that was what mattered most. Maybe he just had to figure out how to let her go. 

At some point in the evening, the servants came in to light the candles and bring him another plate of food, even though he had no appetite. He lay back on the bed, shut his eyes, and firmly ignored them, which no doubt made them happy. He even let himself doze for a while. His dreams were fragmented and hazy: he was lying in a tent in Mercia with Aldreda curled up at his side; he was on the boat to England again, watching Jormungandr rising out of the dark water to strike; he was sitting on the throne of Kattegat before a room full of cheering skeletons; he was his own father, looking down at the helpless infant in his arms. No other way, my son. 

He woke to a hesitant knock at the door. “Fuck off,” he snapped sleepily in Norse. It was probably Ubbe dropping by with some long winded explanation about how this was all being done for Ivar’s own good. Ubbe was the last person on earth he wanted to see right now.

He sat up in surprise when Aldreda poked her head inside. She had a hesitant look on her face, as though she thought he would shout at her. “Sorry, I thought you were my brother,” he explained sheepishly, rubbing his eyes.

“Can I come in?” she asked. Before he could answer, she quickly added, “You can say no. That’s all right too. I just...I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

Some part of him wanted to refuse out of spite; to say don’t worry, you’ll be rid of me soon enough and won’t have to look at me anymore, just like you wanted, same as everybody else. He could watch her expression turn from uncertainty to shock before slamming the door. Then she would go back to her own room and he would lie in bed awake all night, and he would only see her one last time in the morning to formally annul the marriage before getting sent home. That would be the end of it. 

She hovered in the doorway, hair loose over her shoulders and dark circles under her eyes for lack of sleep. In that moment, she didn’t look like a princess of Wessex or the granddaughter of a king: just a girl, not much older than himself, and no more certain about the future than he was. He sighed and shifted over on the bed to make room for her. After a few seconds, she stepped inside, shut the door, and joined him.

#vikings #ivar the boneless #fanfiction #fic: strange things can happen

[sunfloweradore]

i’m leaving this blog

hi! this post is a bit long but at the end you’ll find prompts and requests that you are free to use if you’re a writing blog :).

hi there!! if you’re reading this, i hope you’re doing well and staying safe. i just wanted to say that i’m leaving this blog and i’m not sure if i’ll ever come back. the years i’ve spent being a harrie have been great and it’s been a crazy amount of time! pretty much since the x factor! however, for a long time it’s also felt like i’ve been forcing myself to be a fan of harry’s. i’ve put so much energy into being a fan of his that it hasn’t been fun for me in a while and neither has writing fanfiction, which is what this blog is mainly for. it’s felt very difficult to sit down and write a fantasy about somebody who i might not even like anymore and in hindsight it seems a little dumb, but i did stress over writing all the time. this isn’t really about anybody i’ve interacted with on tumblr because you’re all lovely but sometimes it feels as though harries don’t treat him like he’s a human being and instead like he’s a god. me, included. even though i know we joke about harry being the only man we’d let degrade us or destroy our lives or whatever, he is still a person at the end of the day! it took me a very long time to realize that and thinking of him as otherworldly or completely perfect was my way of thinking for a while and i think it was pretty damaging. the fact that so many people would literally die for him is sad because unfortunately, none of us are going to be on his “level”, so to speak. we don’t know him personally and chances are we aren’t ever going to. ahhhh please don’t be mad at me for saying this, it’s just something i’ve realized i need to change about myself and i think it’s something we should all consider about everyone we are fans of. 

anyway, the time and energy i’ve spent on something so ridiculous is exponential and i really feel like it’s time to put it in the past. i’m dedicating this year to self-growth and part of that is learning how to be my own person. feeling like i have to be interested in something or someone in order to be normal has been a common theme in my life and harry has been that someone for as long as i can remember. this isn’t his fault of course but i’m getting older and i don’t want to think of this time in my life as the era that i was obsessed with harry styles. instead, i want to form memories and real life experiences instead of using fanfiction as a way to cope with all of the things that i can’t handle in my life. it worked for a while but at this point i’ve been reading it and writing it for so long that it feels like i’m living inside my head, like i’ve become dependent on it (obviously this is very bad lolol). so, long story short, i will be leaving this blog because it just isn’t good for me anymore. thank you to everyone who has requested things for me to write and anyone who has interacted with my writing. sorry i couldn’t get through them :(. i’d also like to thank everyone i met through this blog because you’re all such amazing people and you deserve the world. i will leave my writing up but the sentiment still applies- i’ve worked very hard on everything i’ve written so please don’t repost any of it without crediting me, thank you.

below are requests i couldn’t get to and prompts(?)/works that i never got to finish. feel free to use them if you want and tag me in them bc i’d love to see how you write them :)

1. paperboy harry!

i think the direction i wanted this to go in was kind of like a 40′s au? or just a long long time ago. not sure why i had this started seeing as i already have harry as a paperboy in a story of mine but go off ig

2. vampire harry!

i had a specific plot i wanted where harry was in a car wreck because of a vampire who ended up biting him in like an alleyway. reader saves him and is a vampire herself! she nurses him back to health n teaches him how to be a vamp with various shenanigans along the way

3. hospital au?

this one i’m not too sure about but if you’ve seen the red band society you’d sort of know the direction i was going with this. there’s kind of an in-between for people in the hospital who are fighting death or going into surgery and in that in-between is a boy who has been in a coma for a long time. i pictured this as being angsty and for harry to be the boy who guides people in certain directions but he ends up falling for the reader while she’s there

4. ghost au!

self explanatory but i pictured harry as the ghost who kind of just wants a friend lol

5. tea au?

this would probably be pretty short, i just thought it was cute! reader has different kinds of tea all the time and it’s a surprise each time he kisses her 

6. strawberry farm au?

reader has a strawberry farm LMAO maybe harry buys them from her or it’s another vampire au, who knows!

7. threesome

most likely has been done b4 but a threesome w 2 guys and the reader where the guy is inside harry while he is inside the reader

8. chocolate by the 1975

a fic based on that song! it would probably be from harry’s pov 

9. space au?

hmm i think i probably saw something that inspired this but all it says is “harry sends letters to space” so i’m assuming it’s an au where he just decided to send letters to space out of boredom or something and mayhaps alien reader finds one?

10. assassin au!

harry is an assassin and in my draft it’s super vague? and almost seems like he’s stalking the reader? it could go in any direction really but i’m assuming the reader is dating him and doesn’t know he’s an assassin

11. chapstick

very similar to the tea one! just w the reader wearing diff chapsticks all the time

12. shower

this is inspired by something i read on wattpad a long time ago and i’ve tried finding it but i think it might’ve been deleted. the reader flicks da bean all the time in the shower and is really loud about it, harry is distracted and confronts her

13. dang ANOTHER threesome

but this time harry is on a date with a girl and they’re at a bar- the girl is looking around, sees the reader and thinks she’s gorg and they end up having a threesome

14. photography au!

harry is a photographer who somehow ends up taking pictures of the reader. in my draft the reader asks him to delete the ones that are ugly but he keeps them all hehe

15. scrapbook au

similar to the last one, harry takes pictures of the reader a lot but it’s not bc he’s a photographer, he just thinks she’s pretty n wants to scrapbook. twist is that he has TWO scrapbooks- one of innocent pics and one that’s lustier (consensual ofc)

16. habits of my heart by jaymes young

self explanatory, angsty

17. roommate au?

this is for some reason also an assassin au? but they’re roommates and reader doesn’t know what he does. they’re bffs, mutual pining

18. don’t forget about me by clove

wow another song fic, big surprise

19. puppyy

harry gets a puppy who hates him :( but the puppy loves the reader!

20. mall au

lol this one is kind of dumb idk why i thought of it but harry is one of those kiosk people at the mall who sells perfume! dunno!

21. condoms

reader works at gas station, harry buys huge condoms

22. poetry

either person reads erotic poetry while touching the other

23. magic au

one of them makes a love potion, kind of dark? like making the other fall in love with them idk it could be an accident though

24. private chef

the reader is a private chef! that’s all i’ve got!

25. message board

this is inspired by..... the sims lmaooo you can pin messages to the message board in your apartment building and i thought it’d be cute if the reader and harry lived in the same building and he leaves notes on the board and she doesn’t know they’re for her! she always thinks they’re cute though

26. raisin theory

inspired by new girl! specifically a comment i saw in like a compilation? video of new girl on yt

i thought it’d be cute for harry to be that person

#tbh i haven't been reading ff either so if any of these have been done already i didn't know #anywhooo ily #hopefully this year will be good for everybody #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #and of course the reader doesn't have to be female or in 3rd person #but yeah idk how many people are even gonna see this but my masterlist isn't linked anymore #if you search for masterlist on my blog it will come up #okay bye!!

[soliavenne]

Ok here we go, ◇ anon here, let’s talk about this mess of a novel (good and bad). Unfortunately I don’t see an option to add the “read more” break in the submission editor - if you find a way feel fee because this will be quite long.

[warning: spoilers of Gaara Hidden from this point on also please read the original post first, this is just a response to the author of this blog]

Link to the post for reference! https://soliavenne.tumblr.com/post/637596997003722752/thoughts-on-gaara-hiden

1. I agree so hard with this one. While I don’t feel like he liked Hakuto in a romantic sense (I mean there was simply no time for that) - it was just heartbreaking that he compares getting an arranged marriage to dying - just the idea that he can’t even have a say in that part of his life is so sad … Then how he becomes hopeful it might be tolerable just because she is not immediately repulsed by him - tragic. 2. yes, just yes. I hate the thought that Kankuro is just like “nah my brother, who until now never showed interest in romantic relationships, should probably be forced to marry a random girl so I don’t have to” and Temari is just ok with it. I mean it’s true that this might be the only real option sometimes, especially when your marriage is a political affair - however, I would at least expect his siblings to get upset that their little brother is made to endure yet another thing because of the elders. I completely agree that it would seem more like Kankuro to consider taking that burden himself. He clearly has already taken on at least some responsibilities for Gaara’s sake (like helping him to support his leadership from the sidelines). Also - maybe it’s because Gaara is a male character - but I have a feeling if he had been a girl the writer might have put more focus on how cruel it is to force someone into a marriage. There was a lot of effort put into making him seem cool and calm in every situation - not so much on his emotional side. Gaara was never emotionless, far from it - he always had some scenes where he acted rather shy/flustered and it’s been shown that, while he is usually protected from physical injuries, the words and actions of others have the capacity to hurt him severely. To me, he feels like the one person you would not want to force in an intimate relationship with a stranger because there is just no way he wouldn’t take it very seriously and try his best no matter how the other person treats him.

3. agree completely. It didn’t feel like the Gaara we saw in the manga and anime up until that point. Although the novel was obviously approved by Kishimoto, I would say there are a lot of people here on tumblr who have a better grasp of Gaara’s character than the author of the novel - keeping in mind that writing a book takes more than fully understanding your main character. The focus was to make him appear cool and always on top of things - not to depict his emotional conflicts and more awkward side. 4. again yes - The point about his mother just feels like a plothole. I also don’t enjoy the thought that Gaara NEEDS a love interest. He has always been written very vaguely about this sort of thing, why not keep it like that? To me it didn’t feel like he was interested in her in that way, he met someone he admired but it really didn’t go anywhere. That space in the book could have been better spent on exploring relationships with existing characters or to add interesting parts about Suna’s culture and politics.

5. and 6. YES Now for the better parts:

1.I like this bit of added background - another part that feels like Suna is a mix of japanese and middle eastern cultures, same with the tea scene.

2. I feel like this line especially is a big reason why people feel like he is asexual or demi. It’s just interesting to see that he can read this type of thing and feel absolutely nothing from it. This supports the idea that he needs a strong emotional connection with people first and foremost. (And it makes him a character to relate to for people who are also on that spectrum. Even if it was never outwardly stated, for me this line hints severely at the fact that he is at least leaning towards the ace-spectrum, yet doesn’t exclude the possibility that he might find a partner one day.)

3. like stated in 1. I like that scene a lot - it’s a cute idea that Gaara would do little charms/rituals here and there because they might help in his daily life. Even he sometimes leans into things that would be superstition for others.

4. I remember telling you that part made me cry - it’s just such an emotional line. 5. This was so cute. I’m a firm believer that the book should have contained more of that and remove at least one of the new characters that ended up being insignificant. 6. For me this fits his character so well. gaara-obsession-blog has been referring to things like that in their analyses quite a bit - It makes sense for Gaara to abstain from things that could take away some of the control he fought for for so many years… 7. Adding to that - I found it interesting that they stated Gaara is very resistant to genjusu because he had to fight for his consciousness with shukaku for so many years. It fits the canon AND it fits his character - definitely one of the bits I appreciate. 8. I knew you would appreciate that line^^ I like the suggestion you made for an alternative plot. Another interesting part for me were the lines of Gaara addressing why he has never had a love interest. He talks about the fact that he believes the girls in the village who admire him, do so more because of the persona they imagine for him - he feels like they don’t truly like him. The line “and because of Temari’s stealthy handiwork in getting rid of unwanted admirers” still makes me think. I wouldn’t think Temari would actually hurt anyone wanting to get to know her brother. The games have a scene where she asks naruto to guard Gaara’s office while she has to leave for a short time. You are basically asked to send everyone away - if I remember correctly this includes people who are disguised as kankuro, a child who wants help with their cat, someone who just wants to see the kazekage in person and - most relevant here - one of the fangirls who wants to get close to gaara. To me, this means that Temari probably did her best to keep all the people away who were fascinated by Gaara because of his reputation - not, that she would actually go after a person who gets too close to him, who has genuine feelings and doesn’t bother Gaara. But this quote definitely made me consider its meaning for quite some time - I mean, if Temari truly wanted to keep someone away from Gaara at all cost - I’m sure it wouldn’t end well for them. I only hope Gaara became better at rejecting people’s requests - otherwise it must have been hell after she left and there was no one to guard his office– I’m sorry this turned out rather long - there is just so much in this book that either bothers me or makes me think if this fits the characters or not. I’m glad to talk about it with someone.◇

---

As expected as always, ◇. You took the words out of my mouth hands down. I also really appreciate the fact that you brought up a trivia from the games (I haven't played them yet AAAA) so it's a whole new interesting information that I wouldn't be able to learn if you didn't mention it! To be honest, the whole "Temari's stealthy work" didn't sit quite well with me at first as well, so I'm really happy that you cleared that up for me! That'd been such a huge help!

You have nothing to apologize for, ◇!  If anything I honestly love receiving your asks/submissions! They're very interesting and I could clearly see the efforts you invest in discussing your points in such a detailed way. You're also able to back it up effectively! It's honestly such a treat to read through. I enjoy them so much.

Thank you soo so much for having me as usual! The feeling is mutual, I'm glad I was able to talk about Gaara Hiden like this with you, ◇. :) <3

#gaara hiden #◇ #submission

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

I love how you made both GLADoS and Wheatley have a grey area of whether or not they’re platonically or romantically yandere over their darling, leaving it up to the imagination, are their any random headcanons about them that you couldn’t squeeze into your last post?? I hope your blog grows, it’s very promising!! Keep it up❤️❤️

Thank you! And I'm so glad that you enjoyed Yan GLaDOS and Wheatley! This made me very happy and giddy haha

And yeah, there's some more headcanons I could share! In the last post I kinda wanted to follow the story of the game but with a bit of a twist, but I do still have more headcanons that can fit in between the events of the story or that are just general ideas of what these two are as yanderes. So here you go!

Warnings: basically the same ones as last time; yandere characters; violence; mentions of death; verbal abuse; spoilers for the game;

GLaDOS

Last time I just mostly glossed over the part when she’s stuck with working alongside you, but it is the most vital part of her epiphany regarding a lot of things, including you.

She couldn't help but feel glad that you were there with her, even if it was a case of you two needing each other for a specific goal.

She got really defensive over you during this time as well. Every time Wheatley either insulted you or threatened your life (no matter if on purpose or accidentally), she would get furious.

Yeah, she's used to anger and the desire to kill those who cause it, but she swears that she hasn't wanted to kill or hurt someone as much as she wanted to with Wheatley. Which is strange, she did thought you were the person she hated the most. Before all of this, anyway.

She felt so relieved once everything was said and done with her back in charge and you safe and sound with her.

But she also thought it would be for the better to get rid of both Caroline and you at the end.

No.

It wasn't entirely her.

She only felt that need after being put back in charge of the facility.

Though, then again, even then she couldn't get rid of you.

She feels like should hate you, but she doesn't.

Not fully anyway. There's an attachment there, one that makes it impossible for her to let you go.

Now, after she decided to keep you trapped in the facility, she can barely even concentrate on her job of monitoring tests.

She does let the two robot test subjects run through proper tests and she does make sure that everything stays in order, yes, but she doesn't even bother overseeing them most of the time.

She only comes back to them to give them some half-assed feedback and vaguely tell them what to expect from the following test. With a lot of cynicism, not-so-passive aggression and even very purposeful death traps.

She also makes sure they can't and won't bump into you in any way, shape or form. She already knows what happens when you come into contact with another robot who isn't her. She won't make the same mistake twice.

Besides... Just thinking about those two walking excuses of living beings entering in contact with you makes her want to crush them into the useless scraps of metal that they are.

She lets out almost all of her frustration on those two poor bastards nowadays.

Otherwise, she spends all of her time observing you.

She doesn't even know why she does it.

You're not going anywhere. She won't allow it.

Though, she might allow you to run around a bit through some test tracks to give you the illusion of progress.

But even then it's not like observing you would be worth her time or supposed scientific research.

But she still does it.

She's capable of watching you for a very, very long time. In complete and utter silence.

If you do speak directly to her she will respond, though.

But if you yourself refuse to speak, then hours and hours and hours will pass before she'll decide to speak up out of her own accord.

What she talks to you about in these situations tend to be a bit strange.

She does like to refer to the outside world very often. Sometimes she'll describe things she has supposedly seen recently, how beautiful it is. Do you miss being outside?

Other times she'll say how everything has gone through hell and back out there. Usually accompanied by describing all the different, awful ways you would die if you were not stuck in here with her.

And, on other occasions, you might even catch her humming a small tune.

Sometimes you get the impression that she's trying to keep you entertained, in a weird and somewhat disjointed way.

She did ask you if you knew how long an unstimulated human brain lasts before it starts to fall apart.

Occasionally, she can't help but wonder, even though she knows she should have long forgotten about it by now... If this... Was what was going on in Cave Johnson's mind when he gave up on his own survival and insisted on preserving Caroline instead? Making sure she would be kept alive.

How ironic... How truly, truly ironic.

Wheatley

If there's two things you're going to need to get used to when it comes to Wheatley is that, n°1: he's really, really clingy; and n°2: he has a tendency to run his mouth.

Those two do not mix well together, especially for you.

Remember the whole "keeping you trapped and isolated until you learn to behave" situation?

Well, Wheatley's not really good at following his own rules, let's just say that.

Oh, that doesn't mean he'll let you out before he decides you're acting like you should, no, no.

That means he won't really leave you alone.

He says that he will, that he'll throw back into the depths of this place and leave to rot there if he needs to.

But will he?

Nope.

He's all bark and no bite in a lot of aspects.

He likes having you around way too much to let you get out of his sight for too long.

He'll constantly come back to the test chamber you're trapped in to try and talk to you, going from asking if you are finally ready to admit how grateful you're towards him to whining and complaining about... A lot of things.

Mostly involving how much smarter and efficient he is in comparison to everything in this facility. Especially those two robot test subjects that he's forced to use for testing, you should see how terrible those two are. It's mad, really.

Also, like I mentioned previously, he's really not hard to fool.

Convincing him to trust you and let you out of confinement won't be hard.

But it'll be hard to keep him convinced.

Mainly because he'll see every hesitation, disagreement and prolonged moment of silence as a reason to doubt you and your intentions.

It feels like walking on glass a lot of times. Very fragile glass.

He'll also be constantly pining for your approval.

And I mean constantly.

Come on, just admit that he's your favorite! That he's amazing! You should feel honored to even be near him, really.

After he lets you out don't think you'll be free to roam around either.

If you try to run away or even get out of his field of view, he'll turn this facility upside down until he finds you.

You don't want that, trust me. This place is already barely standing as it is with him in charge.

He'll probably get the idea to use you as a test subject once again.

That way he has three test subjects, which just means the tests get solved faster, and he can keep you company. Isn't that a simply brilliant plan?

Who cares about the other two? They'll be fine on their own, he's sure. He just needs to keep a little eye on you.

But you both find out that isn't the best option.

He'll go into panic and hysterics every time you get a bit too close to getting hurt.

What are you thinking, you bloody idiot?! Can't you see the obstacles right in front of you?! You're just a human! A fragile, stupid, easy to kill human!

Which is... Contradictory, to say the least. Considering how threatening you doesn't faze him at all.

Basically, if anything other than himself dares to try to hurt or even just generally looks at you, he loses his marbles.

After that he gets the brilliant idea of keeping you in the Central AI Chamber with him. Or his "lair" as he puts it.

Yes, it's perfect! He gets to be really close to you and keep you safe!

Just... Do not try anything funny, you hear? You don't want to suffer the consequences, now do you?

#tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere wheatley #yandere wheatley x reader #yandere glados #yandere glados x reader #yandere portal #yandere portal x reader #tw violence #tw death #tw verbal abuse

[seulgiology]

i like the dances i do with you ㅣjung hoseok

pairing: idol!jhope x choreographer!original character

words: 3.2k 

genre: smut

warnings: smut lol, cursing, mature content

a/n: i really apologize but y/n makes me cringe ITS ADMIN 1 !!!! this is my first post and our overall first post for this blog so exciting. i’m new to writing, this is a very lowkey hobby of mine, admin 2 is the writer out of us two, but that doesn’t mean i won’t try lol. also the gif above is just for an extremely loose reference for the jhope down below, ik what he’s wearing there and the setting isn’t the same just bear with me. i’m open to CONSTRUCTIVE criticism and feedback, i generally want to make this blog a good one

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

--

“Guys, come on, the next part is really easy. All you have to do is-”

“You’ve been saying that for the past 3 hours Jeongyi.” 

“You wouldn't have to say that if Taehyung would stop trying to make Yoongi laugh every 5 seconds.”

“Yoongi needs to smile at somebody that's not Jimin and if it's anybody, it'll be Taehyung”

You let out a breathless chuckle, not even bothering to remove the sweat collecting on your upper lip and baby hairs sticking to your forehead. As you look at yourself in the mirror, you catch a member missing in the specific formation you carefully put together. You survey the idols until you find the suspect.

Your gaze shifted to the spot in the middle where the second main dancer, Jimin should be. You squint your eyes in exasperation when it was empty of him. There's a muffled snicker that catches your ears. Jimin’s dainty hands covered his plush lips, and his brown eyes disappeared into crescent moons as Hoseok continued to whisper in his ear, not realizing that they were interrupting.

“Care to share with the rest of us?” A playful smile graced your lips at the main dancer who jolts from being caught and bumps his forehead into Jimin’s head from being startled. “Hyung…” He whines, followed by murmured curses flying out of the younger's mouth as Hoseok turns sheepish and mutters an apology to him. 

Hoseok then puts his full attention to you, eyes shamelessly raking over your form. The tank that rose and bunched to a cropped state exposed your creamy skin and waist almost as small as the maknae himself. He doesn't care that you watch him look over the fullness of your breast, constricted in the sports bra. His piercing eyes glance at your sweat-covered collarbone and up to your lips.  They lingered there as your tongue darted out to lick their chapped form, and Hoseok couldn't stop his mind running to the dirty thoughts that plagued him. He forced his eyes away from your inviting lips when he felt himself twitch in his sweats and into your eyes that revealed your thick lashes, a knowing glint in your eyes.

You clear your throat and subconsciously rub your thighs together after feeling a slight slickness after being under his scrutinizing gaze. Yet, you continue to wait for an answer from both. When neither of the dancers moves their mouths to respond quickly enough, you say, “Both of you, upfront. Everyone else, you can take a 20-minute break unless I call you back earlier.” 

A mix of thank you and bows from the members cluster around your ears as they either rest against the blindingly white wall and floor as a worker either wipe a rag under their sweat tipped bangs or massages their sore muscles, or slug out of the practice room off to who knows where in the vast building. 

You look them both over, but noticeably keep your eyes on the main dancer a second too long. His white sweats hung tight around his waist, the strings tied for extra measure, and his loose gray tee showed nothing of his body. You vaguely remember Namjoon joking about how the dancer looked like Yoongi due to his simple colored clothes. 

You were about to move on until you reach that tantalizing stare of his, reeling you into his eyes that showed his desire for your body against his. A breath of a chuckle escaped his heart-shaped lips and he looked away while brushing his long fingers through the front of his parted black hair just for it to fall back into his dark eyes. You couldn’t even imagine how bad he wanted to fuck you against the mirror.

“Jimin-ah, you know what? I believe it was Hoseok’s fault over here that you were out of your formation, right?” You look at Jimin, who threw a confused squint at you from beneath his thick fringe before catching on. “Yeah Hobi-Hyung, you distracted me. I can't believe you would do this to me.” The shorter snickered up at the taller. Hoseok guffawed at me and stuttered over his words, the words “unfair,” were all you heard. 

“I’ll take it from here Jimin, you can relax. And drink some water while you're at it,” You smiled at him as he walked away and threw a victorious glance at Hoseok over his shoulder.  “Dwarf,” The older muttered loud enough for the other to hear. “Don’t act like I won't beat your ass, Hyung,” Was followed by the swift click of the door as Jimin ran from the hands of his member.

 “We’re going to dance, starting from the beginning up to the part you just learned,” You said, stopping to his right slightly behind him as were both looking into the mirror. You don't miss his eyebrow cock and the corners of his lips twitch into a smirk at your challenge. “Easy, I can do that.” He was relaxed, ready for an easy request. “Great, if you mess up, I'll have my best bud Seokjin over there hit you anywhere he wants.” You gesture to the male lazily spinning himself in a chair on his phone, mindlessly blowing raspberries through his plump lips. 

“Play the song from the beginning, with a 5-second countdown please,” you say to no one in particular as I ready myself. You see the amusement and mischief in his eyes as he swiftly positions himself behind you, as part of the choreography, close enough for you to feel his hot breath down my neck. “You’re going to dance your parts but I’ll switch between everyone to keep it decent enough, ok?” You whisper to him, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling between your legs.

“Five.” Namjoon’s voice rings out from behind the table.

You role your wrist and take a deep breath in, clenching and releasing your hands.

“Four.”  Jimin and Yoongi walk back into the practice room together, faces flushed as they quietly take a seat next to Namjoon.

You look into Hoseok’s eyes and soon roll them as he winks at you, a suggestive smile playing at his lips.

”Three.”  Jeongguk discreetly places himself against the wall, plucking Jimin behind his head earning him a wince from the older.

You feel Hoseok shift behind you, his front brushing against your ass in the slightest. You let out an almost inaudible whimper, hoping it went through deaf ears. Oh, the things you wish he’d do to you.

“Two.” Taehyung places himself on the edge of the foldable table, his striking eyes never once leaving your figure.

You feel like he's counting slow on purpose. Why are you getting nervous?

“One.” Seokjin lets out a loud "fuck" and wheels himself as fast as he can to the table with the rest.

The sudden sound of Taehyung's deep voice hits my ears as the first verse of "Fake Love" plays and you move your body to the beat.

«10 minutes later»

Well over ten minutes passed and Hoseok managed to get slapped in the ass, thigh, and back. His shirt stuck to his torso and back from his back and faintly painted the outline of his abs. He tried pushing the sweat-dipped hair out of his flushed face but it just smacks against his forehead. He was panting but stood up strong, ready for more.

Suddenly, a manager walked in and informed everyone in the room that practice for the day was over. Everyone but Hoseok and you bounded up before regretting it as their limbs were too sore and stiff from practicing and sitting too long without stretching. You gave Jin a silent chuckle of gratitude and saluted him as he carried a plush RJ in one arm and threw you a kiss in the other. The rest slightly bow towards you and say they'll meet in the van as their manager makes sure Namjoon doesn't trip over his own two feet from exhaustion.

Once they all pile out, along with the other workers, you allow yourself to rest for a few minutes, promising you’ll get up in 2 minutes

«38 minutes later»

Your eyes fly open at the familiar bass of a popular American song filling your ears. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Hoseok position himself in a stance, getting ready to dance. 

You're so, fucking, precious, when you, smile…

His body twists and turns to the beat, movements fluid yet sharp. His face contorted into one of absolute concentration. Sometimes he’ll stop and do a particular move over again, but he's just making it up as he goes. You would've never known with the way he moved, but being a skilled choreographer lets you see his slight uncertainty in most counts. 

Hit it, from the, back and, drive you, wild…

You sit up and catch his attention. He paused the song and looked over at you questioningly. “I can teach you a dance to that song if you want.” You leaned back and placed your hands behind you to await his response, practically presenting yourself to him.

“Only if it’s good,” he said as he helped you up from the floor. You lifted both hands at him and he slid his much larger and softer ones into yours, his hands warm. But he pulled you up to quick, and a squeal left you as you lost your footing and waited for the floor to meet your back. Hoseok sprung into action swiftly wrapped an arm around your upper back and the other around your open waist. You ended up firmly pressed into his chest, your hands tightly help onto his biceps.

“Damn, your hands are cold,” You hissed out, subconsciously digging your nails into his arms. He grunted and tightened his hold, pressing my breast against his chest. He looked down into your widened eyes, his own hooded from feeling how hard your nipples are against him from your thin shirt. “Alright, let's start,” You sputtered out, his intense eyes giving away everything he felt at that moment. He let out a hum and slowly dragged his hands away from my body, ironically leaving it cold. 

You mentally cursed yourself at the song choice. Back in the states with your own crew, you taught a duet. Specifically made for two people involved with each other in a sexual way. We’ll be fine, we’re professionals. You let your hair out of its ponytail and let it drop to your shoulders, missing the way Hoseok put his hands in his pocket to refrain from gripping the soft strands between his fingers.

You start, instructing Hoseok to stand behind you once again, moving his hands to touch you according to the beat of the music and you find a rhythm in your movements together and find the pace. You dance next to each other, a giddy smile on your face at seeing him fall into step with your movements and he glances at you with that sunny smile of his. 

Girl anything I can do just to make you feel alright…

For that part of the song it all had to happen at the same time, no pausing in between. You needed to execute it cleanly, fluidly and full of pure unconfined craving.

He gripped your waist and pulled his body flush against yours, your smaller body fitting like a puzzle, and you rested your head on his shoulder, your neck exposed to him. His right hand steadily and sensually slid up under your shirt until they lied directly under your breast, his thumb lightly pressed on your clothed nipple. Simultaneously, his left hand danced their way down your open stomach, leaving a ticklish sensation as the tips of his fingers glided over the skin before continuing their trek down to your leggings and over your aching center. 

You both were too lost in the moment to realize that his hands should’ve stopped a safe distance away from your sensitive areas, as a breathy moan slipped past your lips and the sound traveled all the way down to his hard-on. He pressed his soft lips to your unmarked neck and relished in the sounds you emitted.  His hand began to gently cupped your breast and give it a light squeeze just as he began to pull your skin between his lips, sucking to leave a bruise. 

The music seemed to fade into the background as the only sounds being heard was your soft whimpers and the light smacking noises from Hoseok’s frantic kisses and hickeys. He let his fingers dip into her sweats and tease their way her mound over her damp panties.

Slow and steady,

“Hoseok… please,” She whined, her hips unconsciously began bucking against his hand, needing the feeling in her stomach to come undone. A low chuckle rumbled in her ear, sending chills down her back. The feeling passed when she felt his fingers push the fabric aside and speed up their assault.

“Look, baby you’re dripping all over my fingers,” Loud, needier moans with the obscene sound of her wetness filled the now musicless practice room turning them both on to return. The song had ended, but another was about to play.

“Please what? If you want something, you need to say it,” He whispered in her ear, “But that doesn’t mean you deserve it. Not with that bratty mouth of yours,” his lips brushed against your ear lobe, an unrestricted needy whine breaking from her. He brought his hand up to softly wrap around her neck to bring her closer. He drifted a finger inside of her, moving at a slow and tantalizing pace, never fully letting her close to her undoing.

“I- ah,” Another digit slipped in with the other, eliciting a higher pitched moan and the grip she didn’t realize she had on his wrist around her neck to tighten. “Fuck, Hoseok we don’t have all night,” Your words slurred with the pleasure the dancer was providing with his finger toying with your sensitive clit, body jerking with every touch of his quick fingers.

As if your words finally registered in his mind that this is a practice room and you had to be quick, he pulled out his fingers, much to your dismay. He walked your back to the closest mirror, the glass now pressed against your back. “Take these off,” He tugged the band of your sweats trying to relay the message. You hurriedly rid yourself of the clothes, and he wasted no time picking you up and pressing your bareback against the mirror. His hands were under your thighs as he pressed his clothed dick against your dripping folds, eliciting a low groan from him.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, too fucked out to realize he had pulled his sweats down until you felt his dick poking at your entrance. “Wha-,” You never got to finish your sentence because of the delicious feeling of him sliding into you. Both of you let out moans when he finally bottomed out inside of you, the feel of your warm and wet walls sucking him in. You feel so full, yet you already wanted more and he hadn’t even started moving yet. “Shit, baby you’re so tight around me,” he grunted out, already starting a swift pace at the feel of finally having you. You leaned back against the mirror, letting him take you as he pleases, the moans spilling from your lips an absolute sin to his ears. “Hoseok, more, please I want more,” You moaned out in his ear. 

If more was what you wanted, then that’s exactly what you were going to get.

He readjusted his grip and roughly pushed you back into the mirror, his cock rapidly slamming into your hole. “This is what you wanted right? My cock filling you up till you cry for me to keep going, and going, and going” He made sure to enunciate every word of his by fucking into you harder and harder. The moans you were emitting were absolutely wanton, your mouth forming an “O” from his thrusts. Hoseok placed his head at the crook of your neck to try and silence his own moans, but the normally eccentric dancer couldn’t control the moans coming from him because of how good you felt wrapped around his waist and how deep he was buried inside you. 

“Sh-Shit, I’m so close,” he practically whined, he was chasing his orgasm now, his pace brutal and relentless. “Oh, right there,” You sobbed as he hit that place inside you that had seeing stars. You opened your eyes and saw yourself from across the room; Hoseok working his hips into your heat, and you helplessly holding onto him for dear life as your orgasm was quickly approaching you. Your head lolled on his shoulder when you felt his fingers quickly working at your abandoned clit, the added pleasure bringing you to your high faster than you could’ve imagined. “Please don’t stop,” You were both moaning messes at this point, the lewd noises coming from your conjoined bodies adding on to the deeper moans from him and the higher-pitched ones from you. 

“I’m… I’m gonna cum,” your body convulsed and you felt him thrust particularly harshly inside you while his fingers hand never stilled their movements on your clit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you saw white. “That’s it, baby, you’re taking me so well,” You sobbed through your orgasm, tears rushing down your face as he kept his pace. He looked up from your shoulder and came from the sight in front of him while whimpers of pleasure were filling the practice room from your lips. You were overstimulated through his own orgasm, his hips relentless as he emptied his seed into your pulsating walls and moaned your name like a mantra. He sloppily milked himself through his high, your mixed cum dripping down his shaft. 

He slowly and carefully slid out of your sensitive area, not missing the wince you made at the action. His softening cock shone with your release, but his eyes sparkled at seeing it drip out of your core. Before it could hit the floor, he pushed two of his fingers inside you, telling you to keep it there as a reminder of him when you returned to your hotel. Like I’d forget what we did here. He put you back down on the white floors, the fatigue kicking in from multiple dance routines and mind-blowing sex. The only sounds left were your heavy breathing, post-sex bliss still suffocating the room as you two silently fixed yourself up, not exchanging a word.

Just before you were about to leave the white practice room, you turned towards him as he just ended his call to one of his managers to send him a car to pick him up. “You know…” You trailed off. He turned his complete attention towards you, waiting for the rest of your sentence.

You were so nervous, but that doesn’t make sense since you were just begging for him. He strode towards you, a smile creeping it’s way up to his face at your sudden reservedness. “I know what?” You looked up at him, his domineering presence almost making you choke up.

“You never kissed me.”

#btssmut #btsmut #hoseok smut #hoseoksmut #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #jhope #jhope smut #bts aus #bts imagines #bts writing #original character #jhope imagines #bts scenarios #jung hosoek smut #jung hoseok

[commentaryvorg]

Danganronpa V3 Commentary Addendums: Oddly-Specifically-Themed Edition

I mentioned back when I finished the commentary that I might occasionally make new posts with little addendums to things I said in my posts. I re-read this commentary a lot just for my own sake, and sometimes I find myself wanting to clarify existing points, elaborate on things, or just make a whole new point that I hadn’t thought of during the original commentary post.

So here’s a post kind of like that… but this one features bonus thoughts on a rather specific theme. People familiar with my content on my main blog may be quite aware of the reason I found myself having these extra thoughts on this particular theme, but for the sake of not alienating anyone not familiar with that reason, I won’t directly mention anything about that here.

Content warning for the entirety of this post: discussion of torture. And I guess a little bit for psychological abuse in a non-torturey way as well.

The escape tunnel

Consider the escape tunnel in chapter 1. After being the first person to flat-out refuse to keep attempting it, Kokichi makes a rather interesting comment.

Kokichi:  “You’re free to keep trying on your own, but forcing us to join you is basically torture.”

Kaede:  “T-Torture?”

Now, not to sound like I’m agreeing with Kokichi or anything (because I’m not, not quite), but here’s my new hot take on the escape tunnel: it really is a literal torture device.

Kaede:  (When I finally woke up, searing pain coursed throughout my entire body.)

Since it’s swallowed up by a minigame, it’s kind of vague exactly what really happens to them in the tunnel each time. But based on lines like this, and everyone’s general reactions after failing over and over, it seems it’s gruellingly physically exhausting and painful. They don’t just fail to escape; they suffer for trying to do so.

Which, when you consider that there were probably plenty of ways to make the tunnel nigh-impossible to get through without making it so gruelling like this, has to have been deliberate on the part of the gamemakers. This is more than just giving them a glimmer of apparent hope and then snatching it away; this is torturing them for even trying to act on that hope.

This tunnel is a torture device, designed to ensnare people like Kaede who are stubbornly determined to escape, and then to psychologically beat them into losing that determination by coming to associate it with nothing but gruelling suffering and failure.

Rantaro:  “They want us to be desperate to go home. Corner us mentally.”

Rantaro says this, but it’s actually kind of the opposite. This is to make them give up on ever getting out of here through their own power, so that they feel like the only remaining option is to do as Monokuma says and play the killing game after all.

It’s easy to see that this works on Kaede. It’s because of the disheartening experience with the tunnel that she can no longer believe things would ever be as easy as the mastermind letting everyone go once Shuichi captures them on camera, which is why she becomes convinced that the only way to be sure of stopping the mastermind is something much more permanent.

But what might not be so obvious is that the tunnel’s psychological torture also works on everyone else. Not only does nobody ever even think about trying the tunnel again until it’s chapter 5 and Kaito’s getting especially desperate to be a hero (and they have a way to disable the traps anyway), but also, nobody ever seriously tries to escape in any other way before then, either. They talk about it, but everyone’s too hesitant to actually act.

Only a few of the weaker people there would have been consciously thinking “escaping is impossible and trying will only cause us to suffer more”, mind you. That’s the same kind of blatantly-unhelpful attitude as Kokichi’s insistence in chapter 2 of “we shouldn’t co-operate because Monokuma will make us suffer if we do”. Most people should be able to realise that this is defeatist, and that of course they should be doing the things Monokuma doesn’t want them to do, whether they might suffer for it or not, because the possibility of escaping in the end would be worth that suffering.

If some of the more determined ones caught themselves having a thought like that, or realised that the tunnel existed to make them think that way, they’d certainly be having none of it. Kaito would fervently tell you that there’s no way that stupid tunnel taught him to just give up on ever escaping this place; why the hell do you think some bullshit like that would sway him!?

And yet, it did. It got to everyone in a psychologically subtle enough way that they don’t even consciously realise it did so, so they’re not able to push themselves to fight against it. It’s rather like how Maki gradually developed a heartbreaking coping mechanism of simply accepting her awful situation without trying to change it, just condensed into one afternoon of what really does deserve to be called literal torture for the sake of making them give up.

…But as for Kokichi being the one to make the point about this being torture, well, that’s more by luck than judgement. As usual, he’s really spouting self-preserving bullshit that completely misses the actual point.

Kokichi:  “You won’t let us give up and no matter what we say, you have the moral high ground… That… doesn’t sound like torture to you? When you say we can’t give up, you’re not inspiring us, you’re strong-arming us!”

Because, geez, way to blame the person who was manipulated by the torture device exactly like it’s designed to do, rather than blaming the people who actually built the device and who are therefore really the ones responsible for torturing everyone here.

  Maki’s assassin training

Another thing I’ve had a lot more thoughts about is Maki’s third FTE, aka the one where she talks about being tortured during her training.

Maki:  “They tried to break me during training, but *I* was still there.”

See, the thing is, while Maki thinks they were trying to break her by torturing her… she’s wrong. Of course they weren’t. They wanted a functional assassin. If she broke entirely, then that’d waste all the time and effort they’d put into training her this far. Sure, they had her friend as a backup option, but it’d still be a waste to have to do all the training over from scratch. They probably very carefully design the torture to not outright break their child-slaves such that they’ll become non-functional, while also making sure to pick kids they know are resilient enough to not completely fall apart through something like that. The possibility of Maki breaking under it was very, very unlikely from the beginning.

Maki:  “They tried to drag my dignity and tear it… To make me feel empty… But even then, *I* found myself. And then, they would do it all over again.”

This is a more accurate assessment of what they were trying to do. They were trying to break her sense of personhood so that she’d just be an empty, obedient tool who would do what she was told without question and never think for herself.

(And they failed, because Maki is incredible. I really love her way of framing it as “I was still there”, “I found myself”. It’s so impressive that she managed to hold on to her sense of self throughout all that, to the point of even being consciously aware that that was what she was doing. She had no-one to help her through this, yet she managed to somehow support herself through it all anyway, out of her sheer determination to do what she needed to for the other kids at the orphanage. Maki is so good.)

Maki:  “It… wouldn’t have been strange if I broke during all the torture. But even so, I tried my best. I wouldn’t have accepted the job in the first place if I knew I couldn’t do it… But most importantly, if I broke, then *that girl* would have replaced me…”

Maki still seems to believe that she was in genuine danger of breaking to the point that they’d have needed to outright replace her, though. If she actually thought about it from a logistical standpoint – which she’s usually very good at doing – she should be able to realise that this would be a very inefficient way to train child-slave assassins. So it’s interesting that she can’t see that.

I can only assume that that’s because the torture was so awful while it was happening that she felt like they must have been trying to break her entirely, and that she was in real danger of becoming non-functional. Which… of course she would have felt that way, regardless of what they were actually trying to achieve with it. Torture is horrible, and those cultists are the biggest assholes in the world for casually doing this to children. (Or at least, they would be if they existed, but I finally thought about this so much in the first place thanks to certain AUs in which they really do.) Maki is so, so strong.

  Something else I’ve been thinking about regarding Maki lately is the notion that, well, she didn’t need to have “willingly” chosen to become an assassin for the sake of protecting the orphanage and her friend. None of the kids they recruit ever needed to be given a choice in the matter. They’re orphans, and the cult runs their orphanages; it would be perfectly easy to force a kid into assassin training even if said kid didn’t care about protecting their orphanage to the point that they’d be willing to sacrifice everything like Maki did.

Maki’s not the only high-school-aged assassin, since there are others from her cult. She apparently doesn’t even have the most inherent talent for it, given that the cult was scouting her friend first. So I wonder if the reason Maki was deemed the Ultimate Assassin anyway is because the fact that she went willingly made her better at this than any of the other child assassins the cult produced. If she didn’t resist the training (beyond the natural human instinct to resist pain and suffering, at least), it’d be easier for her to hold on to herself. She chose to submit to them and shut the regular-person part of herself tightly away in order to be able to do what she needed to do, which meant she never needed to have that part of her be broken.

Maybe kids selfless enough that they’re willing to choose this are a rare exception. (Aside from the fact that it’s still not at all a choice, because emotionally blackmailing a ten-year-old that their effective family will starve if they don’t become a mass murderer is not okay on any level, but you know what I mean.) Perhaps all of the cult’s other child-slaves weren’t quite brave and selfless enough to have willingly walked into hell, even with the threat of what’d happen if they didn’t, and they needed to be dragged there kicking and screaming instead. In that case, if they weren’t choosing to submit already, the training would have had to beat them into submission, probably resulting in those poor kids genuinely losing most of their sense of self rather than just locking it away. They might have actually had to become empty, near-mindless puppets before they could kill people.

If Maki retained more sense of self than the other child-slave assassins, that’d leave her with more initiative in carrying out her kills than the unfortunate kids who could barely do anything except follow orders any more. Although Maki had no real choice over whether or not to kill people, she wouldn’t have lost the capacity to make at least some choices by herself within that, in terms of how to do so most effectively.

(Maki mentions at one point that she specialises in quick deaths – which seems to imply that not all assassins in her cult are necessarily trained to do that as standard. That was something she chose to do on her own terms, because she wanted to be as kind as possible while still doing what she needed to do. She still hadn’t lost the capacity to be that kind.)

So maybe, paradoxically, it’s because Maki had the most kindness and selflessness out of all the cult’s child-slave assassins that she ended up being deemed the “best” out of them at killing people.

  With all that said, while the torture didn’t break Maki’s sense of self, one thing it does seem like it managed to break is her belief in herself, her sense of worth as a person. Maki thoroughly hates herself – but it’s not just in the sense that she hates herself for having killed countless people. She also just doesn’t think she’s any good at anything else, such as taking care of people, persuading people, helping out in cases, even though she is good at all of those things. While she hates the fact that she’s a killer, her skills in killing people are the only part of herself that she has any kind of confidence in.

Maki:  “Something only I can do… I can think of just one thing. …I know what you’re about to say. But… that’s the reality.”

Maki:  “I was confident in my talent as an assassin. I knew I would be able to do it.”

And… that’s almost certainly deliberate on the part of her trainers. They tortured her, physically and psychologically, to beat her down into feeling like she had no worth at all. Then, based on her genuine confidence in her talent of killing people, I can only imagine that they filled up that void of worthlessness by giving her praise and validation – but only when she showed promise in the assassin skills she was learning, and for nothing else. That way, she’d be actively motivated to get even better at it and turn herself into nothing but a killing machine, so that she could get more of that validation and feel like she was worth at least something after all. Those assholes in the cult would have become something like her twisted abusive Stockholm-Syndrome-y parent figures that she was desperate to please despite everything, because she was just a kid and she had nobody else.

Guh. Maki deserves all of the hugs and all of the genuinely supportive and healthy relationships and I’m so glad she has Kaito and Shuichi for that.

  Chapter 5 stuff

There was a thing I alluded to indirectly a few times during chapter 5, not wanting to make it explicit when the game didn’t either because torture can be an uncomfortable subject. But since I’m here openly talking about all of this now with a content warning on this post, I might as well make my point from then clear.

Maki believed it was very possible that Kokichi could be torturing Kaito while holding him prisoner. That’s part of why she was so desperate to get him out of there as soon as she could.

(Obviously Kokichi wouldn’t actually have done that, but Maki completely believed his evil sadist lie. That coupled with her own experiences that paint torture as just normal gave her every reason to assume it might be happening.)

  Meanwhile in chapter 5, there’s the Strike-9 poison.

Although it requires time to circulate, even a small amount in the body will result in certain death.

This is… very unscientifically vague. How small of an amount? Every chemical that’s capable of killing someone is always going to have a minimum threshold beneath which there’s simply not enough of it to do so. The label on this poison bottle really, really ought to actually state that amount. Obviously it would vary from person to person, but the label should at least state the average.

Instead, by not stating an amount, the implication the narrative wants to give here is that any amount of Strike-9 in the body, no matter how tiny, will absolutely definitely be lethal. Which is not how pharmacology works.

I can forgive this, though, because it’s just a writing contrivance for the sake of the case. The writers wanted it to be an unquestionable fact that anybody who was shot with an arrow coated in Strike-9 would definitely die unless they drank the antidote of which there was only one dose. They didn’t want to bog that down with ambiguity based on the threshold of lethality of the poison and the question of just how much the arrows were coated with. Nobody was meant to get any kind of hope from thinking “okay, so Kaito was shot with a poisoned arrow and Kokichi drank the only antidote, but what if there just wasn’t quite enough poison on the arrow to kill Kaito?” Technicalities like that were not the point of the case.

It is also, for that matter, quite a narrative contrivance that apparently the entire bottle of antidote is necessary to properly neutralise the poison, such that there wasn’t the possibility of them splitting it half-and-half or something. Really the exact amount of antidote needed would probably depend on the original dose of the poison, and there’d be all kinds of ambiguity to that, too.

But shush. These contrivances are necessary building blocks to create a case where one of Kaito or Kokichi has to be dead and the only ambiguity is in which one it is. Just like the whole deal with the Exisal’s ridiculously convenient voice changer, I do not actually care what background details needed to be kind of awkward and forced in order to get this story to work, because the story itself is so damn good.

#danganronpa v3 #addendums #torture #abuse

[gfpt-comic]

Hi, I just wanted to hear about if you are still working on this comic? From finding out that you have made it two years ago. I just wanted to make sure, because I like this comic a lot with doing this body swap. But yeah, I am only asking you here of course if you want to answer ok. It's also very nice to meet you. ^^

(ok so I made an EXTREMELY LONG POST and Tumblr ate it so I am now very upset because I talked about a LOT of stuff and now I must find in me the energy to write it all over again ;-; )

I originally answered with a grateful-sorta-bittersweet tone and talked about a lot of stuff, but since everything I said during the past hour or so is now lost forever to the void I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep the same tone... Please bear with me for being too concise this time, that’s really not how the original answer was written :’)

First off, thanks for your message, and despite the fact that the comic is indeed pretty much abandoned, I’m still happy you could at least have a good time for a while during your read. It’s more my problem really for being the type of artist who can’t stay focused on one thing and whose imagination is so wild, I’ll end up creating tons of stories so long and complex that I can rarely ever finish them -- most often I force myself not to look into new stuff just because I’m too scared of getting involved in yet another fandom and getting inspired for yet another story I will never have the time or energy to finish (the will to finish it is always there, although it’s usually more for the sake of my readers rather than because I’m really 100% invested in the story itself by then).

I have multiple still ongoing projects, and Pythagorean Thoughts is the oldest of them... as well as the one for which my notes are the most vague and lacking. Take my Undertale fanfic, Learn When to Quit-- even if I won’t be able to finish it either (it’s just WAY too hard to write, so even if I were to write the rest in fanfic form it wouldn’t have the same quality as the first 13 chapters, so to me it wouldn’t count anyway), the notes I have for it are so detailed, everything from chapter 1 up until chapter ~80 is set in stone, give or take a few details that may show up at the last minute upon writing; there’s, like, only 3-5 chapters that are still “time passes before chapter 74 so just make up some filler-y stuff here.”

Pythagorean Thoughts on the other hand... Well, thing is, the script is very detailed for everything that happens before the comic starts. But for the stuff that happens after...? Well, I do have plot points, important scenes that I want to draw, random jokes and punchlines that I want to include here and there, but when you compare with LWtQ, it’s more like “the important stuff happens on July 12, July 13, July 14, July 16, perhaps July 18, then it jumps to July 31, and then it jumps to the end of the summer. Make as many filler episodes as you can because making ellipses over more than a week’s worth of time doesn’t look good when the purpose of the story is to show the characters’ development over time, step by step.” So... yeah, it’s a bit of a problem when you run out of inspiration and the many, many ideas you do have already are just so all over the place, you can’t use them to create a list of precise plots before the end of the day arrives and you feel terrible for having wasted your precious almost-PhD-student time (technically my PhD starts tomorrow, but it just means that I’ll have even less free time than I used to).

Admittedly, my current Hollow Knight comic (posted on my main blog, @lutiaskokopelli​) is just as all over the place as Pythagorean Thoughts is... except 1) it’s inspired by a walkthrough for which I have a list of notes with set-in-stone events, in which every noteworthy detail is already written (not to mention that I also have many plot-relevant ideas for future scenes as well); and 2) it also counts as an ask blog, which means that the constant flood of asks I get is a constant source of inputs for me to use -- I basically just have to write the characters’ answers to the asks while the story progresses, which is much easier than just making up everything on the spot from start to finish. In a way, the readers/askers make 50% of the plot in my stead.

Not gonna lie... In the previous answer that got eaten up by Tumblr (yes, I’m still salty), I had started a list of what the major plot points for the comic were supposed to be, up until it started becoming a huge wall of text. I’ve been wanting to write a real summary of the script for a very long time, but I could never find a way to write it in the way I wanted it to, so... I guess it’ll just have to be a messy list of plot points, trivia, and random ideas I wanted to include in the comic. It’s not gonna be nearly as good as reading a finished product, but... That’s kinda all I have, I’m afraid-- and, well, I don’t even have it yet, since it has yet to be written. I’ll try to brute-force my way through it in another post, given how I was already doing it before Tumblr trolled me.

All that being said... I’m really sorry for not being able to finish my stuff. I have made a point of finishing my Hollow Knight comic no matter what (just to prove to myself that I can finish a story for real), but that doesn’t mean much regarding my other projects, sadly. Once again, I thank you for your kind comment, and I hope the next post will be compensation enough... despite its likely messiness. Please bear with me, it’s either posting something complete but messy or never posting anything at all because of my crippling perfectionism.

[angelicyoongie]

hey!! i just recently started a writing blog,,, and i was wondering if you have any tips? sorry to bother, i love your fics man, your writing is what inspired me to write on my own ^^.

first of all; hi!! congrats on starting your writing journey ☺️ and it’s no bother at all aksjsk, i can’t believe my fics are good enough to inspire anything but thank you so much 😭💖 as for tips – it’s honestly hard to give because individual styles and preferences vary so much, but here’s some things to keep in mind i guess!

1. use thesaurus’ for all their worth! it’s amazing how just changing "happily” to “enthusiastically” or “playfully” can change up a sentence and breathe some fresh life in your writing. i often search up sheets of descriptive words to have on hand, and it’s such a big help when you’re stuck on a scene or don’t know what word could really convey the emotion you’re looking for. it might sound obvious, but it’s honestly a lifesaver sometimes! 

2. this might just be a pet-peeve of mine, and i know i’m guilty of this sometimes too, but do a quick spellcheck and make sure you have proper punctuation. there’s nothing that makes me click off a work faster than that, and i just feel like i get chucked out of the story when such easy fixes aren’t in order. (obviously, a misspelled word here and there is fine!)

3. might sound obvious again, but write stories that excite you. writing should be fun! think about how you feel when you read stories you love, why do you like them? is it the plot (or plot twists), the characterizations, the descriptions? think about what you like and try to bring that into your own works.

4. clichès are your best friend. tropes are popular for a reason, and that’s because people like them! me? i’m a slut for enemies to lovers and best friends pining after each other but not knowing the other person feels the same way. is it something that’s often written about? yes! but does that mean you can’t use it? nope! honestly, i can read about people accidentally spilling their coffee’s down someone’s shirt all day.  5. figure out what works best for you, and stick with it + don’t be too harsh on yourself if something doesn’t work out. i’ve learned that i write more efficiently and find it easier to pick up where i left off my story if i write every day. ideally i would love to pump out 2k words every day, but that’s usually not something i can do. some days i can barely squeeze out 100, and others i can do 1k easily! 

6. don’t force yourself. if you don’t feel like writing? don’t. don’t force yourself to stick to schedules either, it easily just sucks the fun out of writing and makes it become a chore and stressful, and that’s not something you want. (trust me, i’m currently making that mistake lol)

7. outline! some people don’t like it, some love it, so test it out and see if it’s something for you. i find it works wonders, especially when writing a story with multiple chapters. you can make them as vague or as detailed as you want! i know this was very general, but i hope it can be of help! don’t hesitate to ask if there’s something else you’re wondering about ☺️ again, good luck on your writing journey!! 

#ask #writing tips

[slashingdisneypasta]

Can i get a hoyt x reader smut pls...(this message was brought to u by an awkward ass person)

This is what the Hoyt x Wife!Reader on my other blog was supposed to be but at that point I was still felt iffy about writing smut but as I have unlocked it now, we can do this ^^ I hope you like it! 

Warnings: Super smutty, guys. Angry sex, course language (Terrible language). Also, this is Hoyt so he will say some horrible things. Suggested rape, etc. Not fluffy

Smut under the cut of course. 

You know what? I think, weeks after the transformation. I’ve tried everything to get this man’s attention back from himself, and I’m his wife, so it shouldn’t be so hard.

But the only times he looks at me, pays me any mind, is when he’s pissed or he’s playing boss. And I just want him to look at me like Charlie, like my husband.

So, fine, Hoyt. We’ll do it your way.

By making you really, really mad. Then you’ll look at me, wont you?

It’s been weeks since my husband went missing. And in his place was left a sorry, evil pantomime in uniform called Sheriff Hoyt.

God, he thinks he’s cool in that uniform. Even though the hat looks goofy as hell, and gives him hat hair. Anger stirs in my chest just thinking about my dilemma. I can’t get through to the dumbass bastard wearing Charlies tattoo’s and sleeping in his bed. My bed. Glancing spitefully at him across from me at the dinner table, I consider kicking him like I did, ‘accidentally’ in the middle of the night last night. He was deeply asleep, snoring and dreaming and I found it wholly unfair that he got to rest like that and I was still up, confined by myself to the left side of the bed away from him, and had just done it. Totally bitterly, but it felt good.

Luckily, he believed me when I said I had had a nightmare and sleep kicked, but alas. I don’t think that excuse will work here.  

I’m just, immaturely wondering how I can aim a piece of lettuce at his face and blame it on arthritis when Luda Mae starts up a conversation for the table, successfully causing me too look up her instead of darkly at my fork. I must have really been looking darkly at my fork, too, because Luda Mae looks pointedly at me as if she knows what I was thinking and Monty, beside me subtly shakes his head at me. I look at Thomas and Hoyt, next, and luckily neither of them were paying much attention.

Sighing in defeat, I turn my attention to the conversation, turning my knees slightly to face Luda Mae and Monty. “I don’t really have plans tomorrow, thanks! Monty and I were thinking about chess, since its been a while, but… “I shrug, looking pleasantly at her and trying to ignore the fiery fury still beating in my chest.

The effort becomes redundant when Hoyt speaks up and I can no longer keep it at bay. “Well, you won’t be doing that.” I watch him chew for a moment, feeling my rage levels rise dangerously high seeing him not even lift his head when he’s trying to control me. This is 2003, Sheriff! Not the freaken middle ages, I don’t obey you!

“Actually, yes.” I spit, venomously, looking straight at his forehead and just daring him to look up back at me. I drop my fork with a clatter, and get half the way out of my seat, alerting Thomas that something out of the ordinary is happening. “We will be. In fact, Uncle Monty, let’s go play right now- “

He raises his head to dare an connect eye contact with me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?? Sit back down, we’re eating a fucking dinner.”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” I revel in the furious way he looks at me. It’s better than being ignored, anyway. I may have gone insane, but it feels really good to make ‘Sheriff Hoyt’ feel that way. I get the rest of the way out of my seat and nod with a smile to Luda Mae. “Thanks for dinner, Luda. Goodnight everyone- except you, Charlie!” He’ll have a bad night, because either he’s going to going to get a crick in his back from sleeping on the couch to avoid my crazy ass, or I’m not going to let him get any sleep in our room.

“You call me Hoyt, woman- Argh.” As I disappear up the stairs to our room, I hear Hoyt shout after me and realise I’m not listening, and drop his own fork in favour of violently pushing off the table and after me. I faintly hear Luda Mae sigh and say something shamelessly about kicking us out of her home. I throw the bedroom door open and barge in, slamming it spitefully behind me so Hoyt has to open it himself.

When he does, I’m sitting curtly, stiffly in the armchair by his side of the bed with a book tight in my hands, knuckles white from anger. He looks frustratedly as hell at me and points vaguely toward the dining room. “The fuck was that??”

“Nothing,” I hiss, acting uncooperative on purpose. “What are you talking about?”

“You know goddamn well what I’m talking about, Y/N.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to fight in front of them.”

“Why are we fighting in the first place? I’m lost as fuck, and you need to catch me up.” He looks at me with his hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised all the way up his forehead, frustratingly expectant.

I’m tempted to give him more lip and say that no, I don’t need to catch him up. In fact, I’d love to leave him in the dark and just go to bed. It would drive him mad, and make me feel a thousand times better, but I figure my immaturity has reached its pique for the night. Instead, I try to relax my shoulders and my fingers and look up, seriously at Hoyt. More level-headed. “I miss Charlie.” He looks irritated immediately, and sighs deeply, looking around the room like a huge eyeroll with his head. When he stills again, he’s cleaning the bottom set of teeth with his tongue, squinting one eye at me. Hands still on his hips, patronising me.  Oooh, how I’d love to smack that look off his face. But, I’m elegant.

… ignoring the kicking him in the middle of the night and the attempt I made on him at dinner with the lettuce.  

“Y/N, Charlie’s dead. We’ve been through this. When are you gonna get it through your head- “

“Well then I want a divorce!” I exclaim, getting up from the chair. His eyes darken, but the corner of his lips quirk up, and shakes his head. Calming down, he pulls the stupid hat off his head and runs a hand through his hair to fix it, turning his back on me and turning to start getting ready for bed.

“Don’t interrupt a man of the law when he’s talking, darling, and no. You don’t.”

That’s rich! He can sure parade himself around like a real sheriff with victims if he likes but that is a moot point, with family. “Man of the law?? Man of the la- You’re a murdering cannibal!”

“So’s Tommy, gonna get mad at him?”

“I’m not married to Tommy.” I watch his movements, heart sinking. Is he losing interest again? It’s a weird feeling, wanting the argument to be over but simultaneously being afraid it is.  “And you made him that way.”

“Yeah? Well, this households never been better.”  

Oh. No, that’s it. I drop the book down on the bed, nearly flinging it actually, and cross the room in 2 fast steps to slap him.

He… he grabs my wrist before I can. “Goddamnit, let go of me. Bastard.” Slowly, I look across from his hand on my wrist to his face, or more specifically his eyes. They twitch, like he’s thinking, and I watch as he looks from my eyes to the rest of me. Assessing the situation with self-taught reliability.

“Honey,” His voice is dark now, familiarly husky and terrifying. Well, to anyone but me it might be terrifying. “You weren’t about to do what I think you were,” He lifts his chin and looks down at me. He raises his eyebrows. “Were you?”

If he thinks he’s scaring me he really is an idiot. I straighten myself, squaring up. “I sure was.”

“Now, see. That won’t work for me.”

“Well, then. To the couch with y- “The rude ass bastard cuts off my sentence, with his mouth on mine and strong, greedy fingers scraping at my waist. It takes me 2 seconds to think about, decide and agree to the new medium for my anger, and part my lips hungrily for a deeper connection to curb my anger at him but he pulls back and sets my face with a mischievous look like he thinks he’s in control here. I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“I’m gonna show you who’s wife you are. Its been too long.”

One, that’s not my fault. Two, “Shut up.”

“Gladly.” He growls, and puts his mouth on mine again, drawing a begrudgingly salacious moan from me. What? Its been a long time, since my husband has touched me. To further things situation-wise, I tilt my head slowly to the side against him and tug him closer by the front of his uniform. Hoyt can’t help himself, can’t just stand and kiss me for a few minutes before taking more, and I know it because I feel his fingers creep up my sides, under my shirt and god are they hot. How his skin stays so warm all the time, I have no idea, but as long as it serves me, I don’t care. They feel really good inside me, and oh. They will be inside me before this is over and the bastards out of kick.

Switching tact, because I can’t say I don’t want more then this also -you can’t be married to a pervert like him for as long as I have and be happy with just some kisses when you can have more,- , I turn him around and push him, not at all carefully onto the bed. Honestly, if he falls off, I don’t mind.

He doesn’t, but he does sit up immediately on the edge, knees apart and yanks me down by the arm to him again, causing a yelp to come from me. “You- “A weirdly soft kiss is put on my lips, before the look in his eyes turns completely dark and puts my hand on the tent in his pants. “Feels good.” I tell him, then let go and make like I’m going to leave.

“Oh no you don’t- “He yanks me back and onto the bed, shut me in with his body. I shift, to get comfortable, but get distracted by the way he’s looking at me. “Hmmm,” Looking me over, a lude grin finds its way to his mouth. “I would force your pretty mouth over my cock, darling, god knows you’re good at that, don’t we. But, later. Right now, I’m gonna screw you, my Y/N.” Momentarily slipping in my resolve, I lean into his touch when he strokes the side of my face, twisting some of my hair around a finger.

Ughhhh, fuck! What was it, the rape threat or the basically calling me a whore that did that to you, Y/N? Fucks sake. Let’s just do this. Get your head in the game, Y/N. “Shut up Charlie, fuck me.”

He chuckles and buckles his belt. “Yes ma’am.” Avoiding his eyes and feeling slick and impatient, I undo my own bottoms and wriggle out of them. With a final sigh, and a squish sound, Hoyt fills me up in one satisfying thrust. “Ohhh,” A stutter groan escapes him, before he berries his face in my neck and hides there. I, on the other hand, am a dangerous, mewling mess under him. Having his stiff, thick cock sinking into me feels a wicked kind of heaven. Familiar of a better time, yet wrong. Mostly though just really, really pleasureful.

I lay there with my mouth half open, breathy moans coming out of me as a arch, and frustratedly meet him at every thrust. It’s not enough! “It’s not enou- oh~” As I tried to talk, his hand traced down my body and touched my clit, began rubbing to add to the pleasure. “Oh my god, that’ll do. Ahh,”

Against my neck, he chuckles breathily. The hand not on my clit come up, and wraps around my throat. Doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t hurt. Just holds it, enough to feel my pulse.

As the knot in more core pleasure becomes unbearable, my breaths become short and I get so close to orgasming all over the shaft between my folds. Desperate for more, I wrap my calf’s around him and pull myself as flush to his pelvis as possible in one last, delicious buck. A deep, guttural groan escapes him and when I squeeze my walls around him, he explodes.

The hot cum, just his fingers explodes in me and that does me in. With a slow slide off of him and back down onto the bed, unlocking my legs from him, I sigh and cum in climax, feeling exhausted.

That was the most, frantic exercises I’ve done weeks, of course I’m tired. I watch him sigh, and stand back up. Bluffing me and trying to make me think he isn’t just as tired as he tucks himself away and buttons his pants back up. “Sweetheart, thank you… You stay here and rest up. I’ll be back.”

“Uhuh… “ I sigh, ready to take a nap.

“You look beautiful like that.”

“Go get us new sheets, Hoyt.”

“I love you, too.”

#Smut #Sheriff Hoyt #Charlie Hewitt #Request

[eriisaam]

Ten for Ten for Ten

AFKL:jafklasfjj I have been summoned by @arlithenerd

(Just kidding thank you, now here’s hoping I did this right haha)

My responses will be posted under the cut (cuz I’m a wall of text monster and don’t know how to do read mores mid-post), but in the spirit of the meme, I’ll move my own 10 questions up first, and the tags at the bottom of it.

Now let’s see what to ask, UUUH...

1) Is there a character you really, really like? Could be waifu/husbando, could be just someone you really resonate with.

2) How about OCs? Is there an OC you’re really fond and/or proud of?

3) What’s your most favorite character trope, and what’s your least favorite? (Example tropes: Jerk with a Heart of Gold, Beware the Nice Ones, Amnesiac Hero, etc)

4) Now what’s your most and least favorite plot trope? (Examples: Rags to Riches, Hurt & Comfort, specific AUs, etc)

5) To complete the Trope Trifecta: What tropes do you most or least like in terms of character design (Examples: Capes, futuristic or fantasy style, how practical they are, how complex or simple they are, etc)

6) What are you the most proud of? (Like, something you made or an achievement)

7) Who/What has been your biggest inspiration? (Like an artist or celebrity, a fandom, maybe something you read or watched growing up, etc)

8) When you want to relax, what’s your go-to way to chill? What immediately calms you?

9) Any favorite myths, legends, folklore or themes you really like? Or what kind of theme or element would immediately draw you in to a new series if they have it?

10) How merciful or evil will you be with your 10 questions you’re giving? (Heheheheh)

And now to subject all of you to these questions, but especially you: @mdzs-tgcf-svsss-fanblog @miss-laney @moanderfe @abenignsmile @okamiryuu @flowerytrashpotato​  @milli-and-chika819​ @littlemissdash​ @grimastiddies @avistella (kidding, join in if you want, tag or no. Or don’t, even when tagged. It’s all cool, no pressure~ I have no idea who to tag and/or who is chill about being tagged for something like this, I’m sorry orz)

1) a personality trait that most people wouldn’t know about you (if you feel comfortable with sharing of course!)?

I’m kinda self-defeating. I tend to think of the worst about what I do as default and have to ease eventually to the idea what I did turned out at least ok afterwards. It’s still a mindset I’m learning to work on, though it trickles in from time to time.

2) what are you most passionate about?

Creating.

|’Dc Broad answer, I know, but more specifically, I love a lot of creative hobbies, and it’s hard to narrow it down to any specific one since I love them in different moods and different reasons. Things like writing, drawing(/spriting), textile things like sewing or crocheting or origami... It’s easier to say I like the core theme of knowing you made something, and it exists because of you, and “you did this” kind of feeling.

3) what is your favorite flavor profile? (sweet, spicy, sour, umami, bitter, etc)

Sweet! Depending on the food and my mood, I also like sour and spicy things, but I tend to gravitate more to sweetness with less fussiness of how so.

4) favorite series/franchise (from any medium) and favorite character within that series/franchise?

Oh gerd, there’s a bit, but in a vague attempt to narrow it down that let’s face it, I know I’ll fail, UUUH...

Fire Emblem (particularly Fates and Heroes) - I love both of them for just how easy it is to generate ideas for. It’s funny because I realize it’s admittedly taking a lot of things that frustrate or disappoint or leave me hanging with either games that I end up liking the two most by virtue for how many ideas it paves way for in terms of headcanons or fanworks or the like. I do like things on their own merits as well, but I think the “I wish things could’ve been better/elaborated on, and therefore I will create things based on that!” side to it was what made me appreciate them more (probably not exactly for the best reasons, but! It’s a thing.) In terms of favorite characters, there’s a ton inside and out of just these two games, but I’ll give the honorable mention to Summer Takumi specifically, because the paralogue he (among others) was released in came at a critical point in my personal life that had some effects on me that, tl;dr, led to me commiting to making this blog, and making more art in public, and eventually writing fanfics in public too. 

Pokemon - Was basically my childhood and went a long way into starting the first spark of a lot of the kind of hobbies I end up growing up and obsessing over/enjoying. Things like giving me a massive interest in coding and programming along with glitches and unused beta elements, or how it’s where I got my start in art back when I was little and trying to figure out how to do pokemon fusion sprite edits. I’d probably say my favorite character is a tie between Missingno and Celebi (in case the former doesn’t really count), the former for just how varied it is and being the main part of why I love how game coding works while being a gateway to beta content interests, and the latter for sentimental reasons spanning all throughout the entire time I followed the fandom game-wise.

Animal Crossing - It got me through ups and downs, it made up a chunk of nostalgia since the first game up to New Leaf (no switch, so now New Horizons, oh wellz), and I had a lot of memories both fond and low-key terrifying otherwise all throughout. I got a lot of favorites among villagers and NPCs otherwise, but if I had to narrow it down to one each:

 I love Whitney for being the only snooty-type villager back when I played Wild World who was surprisingly kind to me (and I’m sad I no longer have the original cart and imagine she long since moved out anyways probably), and so she gave me an experience pretty similar to Ai’s own experience with Whitney in the movie.

NPC-wise, I’m going to go with Sable (it was a really tough choice!) for the fact that in every game, she was among the first instances you can get to know a villager so closely that she was willing to explain to you more and more of her character. Usually in many of the games, once her arch is finished, she no longer elaborates on her life and goes right back to talking generally, but if it wasn’t enough that it was among the first times you see how her demeanor changes from ignoring or staying quiet with you, to going out of her way to find things to chat with you, it was also the memories she explained once you start befriending her.

5) how have your closest family members and/or friend(s) impacted your life?

I consider friends more as family than my actual family (to put it vaguely and/or kindly, my actual family did few to no favors for me). My closest friends have picked me up when I fell (multiple, multiple times), and they were much of why I’m still here, doing what I can. I owe the world to them...

6) if you could be anything (any job, other person, type of animal or beast, literally anything aside from what you are now) what would it be?

A multi-billionaire Maybe someone who shapeshifts. The possibilities with that are endless.

7) favorite beverage?

Coffee. There’s quite a lot of drinks I really love, but coffee is the most easily accessible for me.

8) i know this is a generic one but favorite subject/class you’ve taken?

Arts & Crafts and Computers, give or take. Pity they’re usually the least important for grades and also the shortest class semesters of the year. 

9) early bird or night owl?

I’m heavily inclined to be a night owl, which is unfortunate, because I’m in a place constantly forcing me to be an early bird.

10) favorite meme?

I’m completely in love with memes of cat pictures where cats have expressions that are beyond words, yet represents big moods all the same. If I had to narrow it to one specific meme, however...

My heart will always be with Anfisa. Aka Angry Cat No Banana.

#Tag and ye shall receive #but srsly thanks #Also if you get tagged and don't want to do this then again no worries sorry

[nonbinaryresource]

Have any of you ever felt more dysphoric after encountering transmed rhetoric? A lot of transmed stuff shows up in nonbinary tags, and I recently read a post where a trans man claimed that seeing nondysphoric afab nb/transmasc people "flaunting" their chests in photos, videos, etc was "hurtful" to him. After that I started feeling much more depressed and self-conscious about my body in ways and places that I never have before. (part 1)

Up to this point, I really only felt dysphoria in regards to my internal reproductive organs. I hope to have some kind of hysterectomy in the future, but for now, my doctor is having me take low dose birth control and skip the placebo pills so that I can stop having a cycle. It definitely helps with that, but as a side effect, I’ve gotten a little bustier and hippier. I didn’t feel TOO bad about that until I saw that post, and now it’s hard for me to even look in the mirror. (part 2)

I’m hoping that these feelings will eventually pass. I know it would be wrong to bind or have top surgery just bc some guy thinks my personal experiences with my gender, body, and dysphoria are ~incorrectly trans~ or something. This has been on my mind for weeks though, and I think it would help me to know whether other nonbinary people have any similar experiences. Thank you. (part 3, end)

This is what transmed (and terf and any other transphobic) rhetoric is meant to do. It’s meant to stir up feelings and scare people and invalidate them and make them hate themselves and make them doubt themselves. This is exactly what they want. They want to either force you to conform to their self-hating, righteous gatekeeping propaganda or to force you back into the closet/to stay in the closet.

I know this isn’t your question, but I want to cover self-care in navigating these sort of situations so you can avoid this as best as possible in the future.

Block liberally, especially if you’re going to spend any time in the tags. I regularly search asexual, aromantic, and nonbinary on tumblr. My block list is huge. This is healthy. Not everyone is meant to face this rhetoric so they can deconstruct it for others to understand why it’s harmful. We’ve all got our strengths and weaknesses, and that’s what makes life work. It is a totally reasonable reaction to be upset and dysphoric and anxious and depressed regarding coming across transmed identity policing and shaming. It is not a good or healthy way to live being brought to such a negative when you come across this stuff.

Start teaching yourself to scan usernames before you read posts. A lot of transmeds identify themselves right in their usernames by straight up calling themselves truscum in their name. Transmed and terf/radfem communities have really allied in the recent past, so you may even catch usernames with rad or radical in their name. When you see these, block on site. If a name seems suspicious but you aren’t sure, you can also quickly check the profile of the person, as many of them have “transmed” listed in their description. Block before you’ve really even processed the post and skip right over it.

Also, blocking can seem like a useless task at first with so many bigoted blogs in the tags, but once you’ve blocked many of the popular ones, you really only have to watch out for the random new one that pops up, and the tags become much more manageable.

Make sure you have plenty of positive and affirming blogs on your dash. If you’re regularly coming across gatekeeping and cissexism but you’re not taking in regular positivity and validation, these comments can be harder to shake off. You tend to feel more isolated and so can spiral quicker and more easily. Having more positive and supportive and trans-friendly blogs regularly on your dash will help you take in these messages, remember you’re not alone, and work on self-love and self-acceptance. Transmeds may still hurt and impact you, but with a bigger community at you’re back, you may find it easier to brush this off and bounce back.

Avoid any temptation to seek out these blogs, whether to interact or just read to “just see” what they’re seeing and thinking. This can be a form of self-harm, and it will definitely make you spiral faster and more intensely. Block, block, block. Take a break from tumblr if you need. At least take a break from the tags if you need. If you’re subscribed to a tag, unsubscribe. Only go searching for the tag to read the posts when you’re feeling mentally up to it. It can be harder to deal with when you’re subscribed to these tags, as posts like this can randomly pop up on your dash without warning, making them more triggering and upsetting.

Practice healthy coping mechanisms. We’ve got some good stuff under our coping tag. I’ve heard so many trans folk say that learning and practicing CBT techniques has helped them immensely in dealing with dysphoria. Mindfulness, meditation (I prefer guided meditation to avoid dissociation), and breathing/grounding exercises can all help as well.

But anyway. You were looking to know you weren’t alone, and the answer is a resounding no, you are not alone. That rhetoric is designed to harm you. It is specifically targeting you. It makes complete sense that it shook you and impacted you.

Keep reminding yourself of what you know: being trans is not defined on an axis of suffering, some jerkoff loser doesn’t get to define transness for all trans people just because they want everyone to hate themselves as much as they do, and you are valid. Stop and specifically validate yourself out loud when you’re alone and can do so. Write it down (in vague terms if you need to for safety) when you’re around people and can’t say it out loud. Aggressively love and support yourself. Do it out of spite for this jerk if that helps motivate you.

This can pass, but you may have to do a little work so it will.

[gif of daily sky fox, a cute little fox with tiny wings, sitting like a human on the floor, swaying side to side, holding a sign that says “You are strong! I believe in you!” There’s boxing gloves and a round heavy bag in the background]

~Pluto

#mod tera #dysphoria #gatekeeping #negativity #transphobia #cissexism #coping #slightlyoffcolour

[ask-jumblr]

Thank you so much to everyone who’s been constructive.

Both commenters, and the anons below who were open about what they’re struggling with. Since all of the asks were either hateful, or seemed to be addressed at me, the mod, I’m going to handle them. 

Before you get too upset that I didn’t give all y’all equal chance to answer: I’m encouraging the anons to send in some asks dealing with the issues they’re mentioning, formatted in such a way that it’s easier for jumblr as a whole to constructively help. Based on their current asks, I can only ask questions about what they practically need.

Because I’ll be addressing the asks chronologically and the constructive asks come later, I’m going to put it all below the cut. If you don’t have energy today, don’t click through. Even the constructive stuff is heavy.

Here were the first two anon’s received:

Isn't Orthodox just exclusionary extremism? Aren't those the homophobes and transphobes who think you shouldn't be allowed to marry a non-Jew? Why aren't we staying focused on reform/recon Judaism?

It’s okay not to know things, although the assumption was a little harsh so I didn’t want to post it directly. In response I made a myth-busting post. Yes, it is American-centric, but here’s why: I can be pretty darn sure anon is American, or at least North American.

Given that you’re upset about intermarriage, you’re probably not Israeli. Given that the U.S. has the largest diaspora population, anon is likely American. Given that anon is referencing “Reform” Judaism as an alternative, they’re probably not in Britain (”Liberal Judaism”) or outside U.S./Britain/Canada/Israel (”Progressive Judaism” everywhere else).

Realistically speaking, I can’t call up every community everywhere. As an American coming out of a mediocre, Anglo-centric education system, I can only speak one other language with any competence and blurt a few words of a few more. If you want to know about a community in a specific place then please, please ask. There have been folks on here asking about communities all sorts of places who have gotten answers here. Jewish geography + the internet is amazing! When anon is American, with misconceptions about American Jews I’m going to assume such.

Orthodox Jews should probably stop existing. 

This ask is hateful and non-constructive. Hence the threat to block.

After this, I got some anons who are getting at some problems that we can really work on. They aren’t American, so I’ve assumed they aren’t the first anon.

hey if your responses and views could stop portraying us jewery as being the only way things are done and that we somehow all have access to the stuff you do, that would be grand

(cont) or where there zero chance of finding a group of that community that'll accept me and not treat me in hateful ways. I'm sorry that Jewery outside the US/NA is that unfamiliar to you and that our viewpoints and experiences makes you uncomfortable but I guess that's the way US Jews deal with Jewish "outsiders".

I’m going to start with part 1 to stay in order even though part 2 is what gets me antsy to help ya. You’re right. I don’t have a ton of experience with non-U.S. Jewery. That’s why I tag thoroughly and encourage folks who don’t know the answer to signal boost. If you’re specific, someone else on jumblr can help you. 

When anon asks are vague and, as they often do, reference U.S./North American terms for branches (”reform” rather than “liberal” or “progressive”), I’m going assume the anon us in the U.S. or greater North America. Most other respondents likely will too. Anon askers who want otherwise need to use terms that are more globally (”progressive”) or locally (”liberal”) appropriate, or give a little more locational information (e.g. city, country, region). Re-my new explanation above about American-centrism. I respect that you didn’t have the benefit of seeing the language in that ask, but I’m here to help you as much as I can without superfluously emailing every rabbi in every country for another anon who’s linguistically and statistically likely to be in New Jersey or Ohio or somewhere else in the U.S..

Now for part 2 (after “(cont)”), your concerns. (Getting something out of the way: Since you’re saying “Jewish “outsiders”” I’m going to assume you’re Jewish. However, many people reading this might not be; this audience has a lot of prospective converts. I want to point out that prospective converts aren’t entitled to conversion via any particular community. I might personally be dismayed, but it’s that community’s prerogative. Getting that community to a place where people who are already Jewish who are LGBTQ, have disabilities, etc. are accepted is going to be my priority if I were to harangue a community that’s not my own. In other words, people like anon. On that note...) I received another ask with a concern similar to part 2, by someone in a similar situation as a Jewish person under the LGBTQ umbrella whose only option is a community that won’t accept them. I’d like to answer these together. Here’s that second ask:

Not your first anon but there's no non-homophobic Orthodox community where I live. I live in Europe and maybe it is different in the US but the Orthodox communities here do NOT accept lgbt+ people. Or if they do it is under the "don't ask, don't tell" form of homophobia where you're accepted as long as you don't display it publicly or ask them to treat you as an equal in any way. So sorry for not feeling endeared to a group that have always hated me.

This means we’ve got a heck of a problem. There are Jewish people who don’t have a community and need one. Y’all (You all) don’t know me irl, but making sure Jewish people who want Jewish communities have Jewish communities is something I’m very big on. I’ve gotten some flack for being too welcoming or too focused on making sure synagogues are welcoming. I want you to know that we want you here. Unfortunately you aren’t close enough for me to personally offer you that hug.

You see, I’m a U.S. Jew, but I’m not one from a place like New York City where there’s a wealth of Jewish community options. (hint: #SouthernJews #ShalomY’all) I know those people near me who feel forgotten, ignored, scoffed at, or unvalued don’t always have another option (or that it’s a loooong drive and lots of gas money away). I am someone who has had to put in the work to build the community she wants and needs, and a community that is welcoming for the people she cares about. 

Putting aside the extent to which I’ve had to patch up my own education while trying to make sure others aren’t on their own doing it, I’ve also had an obstacle you’ll find more relatable. I know it’s not obvious, I’m also under that LGBTQ umbrella (sexuality, not really gender from my current self-understanding). I’m largely closeted irl because being Jewish makes me enough of a target and is harder to hide. I don’t discuss it much on the internet because I don’t want #woke #discourse about myself as I figure out my own identity, and don’t want my own processing  (yay for internalized -isms!) to hurt someone else. It’s fine that you didn’t know, but I want you to know now so that you can understand my experience:

Yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend in Israel who’s had to make community choices too. My friend (who is also under that umbrella) convinced me that I should go to a shul with a rabbi who was openly homophobic in the past because it’ll be the best balance between programming that meets my needs (adult learning! services!) and driving distance. The rabbi stopped being openly homophobic, so I know I can be in that community. But it’s not exactly my dream. I don’t plan on relying on that rabbi for psak or life-cycle events--at least not until I know more. Then again, I’m lucky. I’m lucky in that there are rabbis I feel comfortable getting psak from who speak my native language. I’m lucky that I know enough to know that a non-rabbi can officiate a commitment ceremony (and actually a Jewish wedding too...), and that I’m from a well-connected extended-family that is friends with rabbis elsewhere (whoot! Jewish geography!) who would happily come in to officiate for me (though it might be costly and they might only do commitment rather than marriage). And I’m lucky that my extended family would be supportive enough to do so for me (they’d be getting eager enough for me to marry anyone...).  I’m also lucky in that I could drive even farther and hit a Reform community that’s been more accepting for much longer. It doesn’t have the resources or programming I need, but I would have hypothetical access to a place with other Jews that has gender-neutral bathrooms and a rabbi who hasn’t said anything (recorded) that’s unaffirming of my existence.

But what about people who don’t have access to an alternate community? Or for whom that other community is even father from being a good fit?                   With work, it is possible to make change. Do you know why that shul’s rabbi stopped being openly homophobic? Maybe compassion. But there was an outside trend too: the community shifted away from homophobia to embrace its LGBTQ members, and he was forced to follow. It’s quite likely that movement stances and responsum helped, but community organizing, changing minds one-at-a-time, those were definitely pieces of the puzzle.

I want this blog to be here for you in figuring out how to make those changes. I began an initiative on here called Tikkunity. It’s a goofy name for an important mission: help people find strategies to make their communities more vibrant, more welcoming, more supportive, more accessible, more whatever someone needs. The ones I’ve put out so far aren’t as heavy as your topic, but Tikkunity is also here for what you’re looking for. I’ve gotten in touch with some other blogs about topics that are less obvious for communities, and a bit heavier too. If either of y’all feels comfortable messaging me from off anon (just make a side-blog with a random url), I’d love to draft a post with you. Alternately, if you send something constructive and specific enough such as “I only have one choice of community and I don’t feel safe or accepted there as a [insert LGBTQ identity/ies] person. How can I make my community more accepting of [my existence/my partnership/my pronouns/etc.]? FOR: Orthodox and [LGBTQ accepting/affirming/or other word or phrase of your choice that describes people who would be in-line with your goal]” or “ I only have one choice of community (there aren’t many Jewish people near me) and I don’t feel safe or accepted there as a [insert LGBTQ identity/ies] person. Does anyone have recommendations of what to do and tools to help me do Jewish stuff to do without the big community? How can I find people from that community willing to join me so it isn’t as lonely?” then I can post it off the bat

As much as I’m not letting askers generalize Orthodox Jews as individually homophobic/transphobic, the U.S. isn’t a utopia for LGBTQ [Orthodox] Jews looking for communities. “Don’t ask don’t tell” is how many U.S. Orthodox communities function. You’ll notice that the Orthodox LGBTQ-acceptance group I linked (Eshel) is an activist-type group from within the Orthodox community. The most effective change comes from within communities, which is why I’d rather you talk to Orthodox jumblrs than me. There are many LGBTQ Orthodox Jews on tumblr who might be willing and able to help you make that change via advice on a Tikkunity post, connecting you with other activists, or via a longer-term messaging relationship as they make change in their own communities. While I don’t think Eshel formally works outside the U.S. right now, that doesn’t mean you can’t ask them about expansion or see if they can connect you  with other laypeople community builders and shifters to provide mentorship and support.

If you can’t start within the community, you can start building alternate spaces with Jewish people you know who have been willing to engage with you. Even communities that are largely homophobic/transphobic aren’t a monolith. There’s lots of advice out there for people making “start-up” communities or “indepedent minyanim” or “chaburas.” It’s not fair that you have to do the work. But don’t take it out on all Orthodox Jews, individually, especially because some of them are on your side.

And if you’d rather move than make those changes then if/when you are able to move this blog can also be a resource for you. If you send in a message with the cities you’re considering and what you’re looking for in a community, someone in jumblr can likely help give some advice on where you’ll find the best community for you.

#ask-jumblr #mod talk #meta #blog #hate #anon hate #LGBTQ #LGBTQ Orthodox Jews

[alitheamateur]

A Taste of Home-Chapter 6

Warnings: Language. Fluff.

You dizzied barefoot around the torn apart suitcase in the floor of your hotel room. It seemed as you’d packed every essential for your time in Malibu, except the perfect ensemble for a date with Chris ‘full of surprises’ Evans. Were jeans to casual? Would heels be over the top? Did you need to wear matching undergarments….?

Assumption isn’t a good look, although maybe better than downright desperation.

Your body wanted him down to the very lowest layer of your flesh. It was needy, and maybe drastic. Careless even. But, your every thought was sickeningly consumed by the daydreams of you in his bed. Whether it be due to his righteous kindness, his charming wit, or those damn fitted t-shirts would be an eternal unsolved mystery. But, you knew he was well aware of his plethora of desirous traits, and more pathetically you were alright with the way he purposely highlighted them.

A: I need something to go on here, Evans. Where are you taking me?

You spritzed rosy perfume over the naked span of your body, and into the stretched line of your neck under your loosely fallen hair. You’d rather look impatient and ruin the surprise rather than dress inappropriately for the occasion, so you texted him.

C: Casual. No heels. Bring a sweater. And Amelia?

A: Chris?

C: Stop worrying.

C: See you in an hour. Smile, gorgeous. Today was a good day.

Your lips obeyed his command and you felt a lax smile creep onto your cheeks.

Choosing the most practical outfit in your suitcase, you pulled the thin straps of a loose, blue cotton dress up, it’s hem dragging to the middle of your thigh. It seemed your hair, once perfectly plain and straight from the earlier photo shoot, had disagreed with the humidity of the hot afternoon. Your blonde, swirling curls were raging at full attention, wild around your pink-stained cheeks.

The dip of its neckline sagged tastefully low, but enough to display your most confident feature. You truly never felt even the slightest bit comfortable in your own skin, which is why clothes sang to you. If your own skin wouldn’t do the job, you’d make it a hobby to find the most perfect piece of fabric to boost where you lacked in self-confidence.

Swiping a melon, lip-plumping balm over your mouth at the bathroom vanity, your phone buzzed.

Shithead: I’m in Boston on business. I’ve got the papers with me, so let’s meet around lunch tomorrow to discuss. You may bring a lawyer, but good luck paying for one.

So many replies that still wouldn’t do his most undesirable actions justice cluttered around your thoughts, but you composed yourself, prepping to defend his unacceptable demands as an adult. Sort of.

A: With your very prompt notice of one day, it seems I’m out of town until day after next. You can either wait, or leave them with my parents. I sincerely hope you choose the latter.

He read instantly your answer, and a reply was in hot pursuit.

Shithead: Out of town? Why?

A: Business. Mine, not yours.

Your thumbs patted against the screen, waiting for the awful reaction your vague explanation would undoubtably ensue, just as a knock patted on the locked door of your suit. Rather than let the sour taste of Ben ruin your evening furthermore, you shifted the off switch and marched towards the man waiting in the hall.

You picked up a small clutch on the way, but it fell to the floor, probably in slow motion like your jaw, when you answered his knock.

Instantly, you elected once back in your bed tonight, you would make yourself decide whether you liked suited, James Bond-like Chris, or this Chris more. The easy jeans, half-torn at the collar t-shirt, dirty sneakers Chris standing in your doorway, smiling behind midnight black sunglasses.

You could smell him with the wind of the opening door, and you hoped he got a warm dose of your scent, too, knowing what the sweet scent of a woman could do to the male species.

“I was going to call, but I thought I’d come up to get you instead. You know, manners and all.” He rolled his eyes, his shoulders danced in a nonchalant shrug.

“Manners are nice, yes. Manners are always good, right?” You wondered if he noticed how you seemed to always get a case of these weird hiccups when he was around.

“Sometimes I like a little impoliteness. It has its place on occasion, wouldn’t you say?” Chris greeted you with a kiss to the feverish curve of your cheekbone, his words humming into your ear not by accident.

You disregarded his already unfair advantage for the evening, and boldly counteracted.

“Oh, definitely. I couldn’t agree more! I may have thrown my manners out the window a time or two, and been downright bad mannered.”

Chris chuckled, and I watched him gulp down his Adams apple. He may have been better at hiding his attractions than you, but you noticed the little hitch in the pattern of his breaths.

You whipped of the switch of your light on that note, double checking your keycard for the room was tucked away in your wallet, and strolled next to him down the abnormally quite hall.

“I see the hair is back,” he commented, staring at the lit-up buttons on the wall of the elevator. “I like this Millie much better. Not that the other version isn’t…. well, it isn’t… you look beautiful. I’m trying to say that you look fucking beautiful, Amelia.”

The way his words stammered on his tongue like a confused drunk pleased you.

Nervous. You, make him, nervous.

“ I don’t think you need little old me telling you how handsome you are, Evans.”

The drop to each floor ticked by like an infinite second, and with every moment your pull the him itched stronger. He seemed to possess his own magnetic forcefield that your body’s every molecule responded to, which made the resistance inexplicably painful. Alone. Trapped in the silent solitude of the elevator, you locked stares. The icy glimmer in his eye played from dangerously calm, to shuddering sensuality when he looked at you. His emotions battling to behave, or otherwise. And, God, his smell. The divine smell of him alone made you think of sex.

When we dinged to the lobby, you gasped in relief at the fresh, open air as you stepped outside the elevator car, needing a momentary escape from his irresistible, palatable force. You felt in control of your senses for a moment, until Chris moved his veined hand to the exposed skin between the blades of your shoulders, close to your sweating nape.

“My car is out back waiting. This way.” He pulled.

The two of you escaped the treacherous clutches of the frenzied paps snapping photos, and tucked yourselves safely into the back seat of an SUV that seemed to follow him around. You buckled yourself into the seatbelt, squirming a bit with the strange feeling of unusual silence.

“Tess was raving about you after you left today. She was beyond impressed.” He caught your attention from gazing out the window at the swaying palm trees.

“I had an amazing day, Chris. That is exactly how I pictured my life when I started up the blog, and it came to pass, finally. All thanks to you.”

He groaned, but with a smile. “If you thank me one more time, I’m dropping you off on the side of the road. Its what friends do, Millie. Help each other.” He swallowed your hand into his. “And besides, seeing you so smiley the entire afternoon was well worth it.”

He pulled his lip between his teeth, as if he was the one suffering from his salacious thoughts. Your self-control, however much longer it may last, was admirably unwavering.

The car slowed, and somehow you managed to shake yourself back to some form of reality to make note of where you had ended up. Pulling into the emptying parking lot next to a sandy beach, Chris leaned to do the service of unbuckling your belt.

“Don’t touch that door.” He commanded as he dropped to the ground, leaving you alone in the second row of the vehicle.

Confused, you followed his jog around the car through the hazy tint of the black windows until he landed directly outside your door, where he pulled it open, offering you his hand.

The sun was still hanging droopily over the endless span of blue, fluffy caps of white waves rolling to the shore. You internally hoped whatever he had planned, you’d at least get to watch the orange-y glow of the sunset fall over the Malibu beach.

“Come with me. It’s just around those rocks there.” Chris tucked your hand into his palm, and you wished he had given you a moment to dry the nervy sweat between your fingers.  

The tepid wind whipped your dress to and fro, along with the wave of your hair as he guided you down the sandy hill of a rocky, secluded cove.

“I hope this is alright for a celebration? I wasn’t sure if you’d feel up to a big crowd after your busy day.  

The hinge of your jaw broke open, and a gasp fell from your lips. A blanket, what looked to be made of expensive chenille was laid into the sand, a basket holding it back from escaping with the gusts of welcomed ocean breeze. There were 2 fluted glasses turned upward onto the lid of the picnic basket, next to a chilling tin of some sort of bottle sealed with gold foil.

“You did all this? How did you manage to pull all of this together in what, 3 hours?!”

“I can’t take all the credit, no. As badly as I want to claim entire responsibility for the look on your face right this second.” Chris brushed back a curl of your hair away from your face, the tips of his fingers lingering heated at the corner of your mouth.

You turned into his touch, happily abandoning your better judgment. Hoping to see that mischievous, roused glaze paint over his eye, you barely popped your lips into the curve of a kiss to the pad of his finger. The stir of his usually sure demeanor crumbled, and you relished that it had been at your hand.

“Behave, Chris.” You heard him mistakenly whisper to himself. 

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