#so my solution is. horrible but bear with me.

[rockmonopoly]

My coping things r weird but they do work

#i speak #like I felt bad last night and this morning. and everything feels too much. and not real. #so my solution is. horrible but bear with me. #I make these little daily diary tiktoks. just snap a photo of whatever I do. timestamp it in my notes app with what I’m doing #and at the end of the night I edit a cute anime girl onto a nice bg or some other cute character #and post. and then I can look back on these entires when I’m feeling horrible again and realize that I’ve gotten through every other bad day #and that the mundanity of life is just as important

[moonstruckme]

so i read somewhere that sometimes a better response to someone struggling with depression is warmth, rather than positivity and i was thinking if you’d be interested in writing a bau!reader x spencer pre-relationship or established relationship whichever u prefer!! where he comforts a depressed reader having a rougher couple of days & is very gentle and understanding and warm towards her 💘

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: depression

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 638 words

You’ve been completely useless through this whole case. You’d sat with the team during various briefings, gone along to view crime scenes and question witnesses, but your brain just wasn’t working hard enough to put anything together. Lately, the effort of cranking the gears is too much. 

You’re considering leaving the rest of your paperwork for another day. You want to not be here so badly. You want your bed. You want to stop being a burden to the team that’s been carrying your dead weight for the past couple of days (and giving you increasingly inquisitive looks throughout that time), and to go home and sleep the weekend away. 

It’s a testament to your fatigue that you smell the coffee before you hear Spencer approaching. Morgan would hand you your ass if he knew. 

“Thanks,” you say, making an effort to smile at Spencer as he sets the plain ceramic mug on your desk. The coffee inside is barely brown, letting you know that he’s already loaded it down with cream and sugar the way you like. 

“Seems like you might have a long night.” He leans back against your desk and braces his hands on either side of his hips, nodding towards your paperwork. 

You shrug. “I don’t know, I’m thinking of leaving it for Monday. Strauss doesn’t need my report that badly.” 

Spencer nods again. “Are you doing okay?” 

“Yeah.” You blow gently on your coffee, wishing the aroma brought you the same sense of contentment it usually does. “Why?” 

“You never let your paperwork sit overnight,” he says. “And you’re not eating as much, having trouble concentrating, looking tired all the time…” Spencer pauses, meeting your eyes. It’s an effort not to drop your gaze. He sounds like he’s been adding things up for a while. “Do you need anything?” 

You smile again. It feels better this time, more genuine. “I’m just having a tough couple of days,” you tell him. “It happens to me sometimes, it’ll pass. But thank you.” 

Spencer’s face smooths out and pinches all at once. For a profiler, he’s shockingly horrible at controlling his expressions. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel the need to around your team. You read him plain as text: relief at having an identified problem, distress at the lack of an easy solution. 

You know he means well, but you can’t stick around to bear the weight of any more disappointment.

“I think I’m going to head out,” you do your best to sound calm, reassuring, as you gather your bag from beneath your desk. “See you Monday, Spence.” 

“Wait.” You pause, but then Spencer’s falling into step beside you, grabbing his bag to follow you to the exit. “Do you want to come over?” 

You look at him, surprised. “To your place?” 

He nods. “Yeah, there’s a marathon of the Jurassic Park movies on tonight. We could watch them and order pizza, or whatever you want.” 

A little laugh startles out of you. The sensation feels odd and atavistic, like a bubble popping in your chest. “You like Jurassic Park?” 

“I like talking about how unfeasible it is,” Spencer says, pressing the button on the elevator. “Did you know velociraptors were about the size of a large bird?” 

“...I did not.” 

“Probably because you watched Jurassic Park.” He smiles, and you can’t help but copy him. “Really, I’m not attached to the idea of watching them. We can do whatever you want.” 

The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth, but Spencer glances down and you release it. “I’m not sure I can pass up the opportunity to witness that much berating,” you say. “How many are there?” 

“Six, not including two short films or the animated series.” 

“Will you hold it against me if I fall asleep?” 

“Not at all.”

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

[c0la-queen]

RAGHHHHHHHHH

Could you ever so kind and provide some general dating Headcannons for all the four boys?? 🥺👉👈

Maybe some extra with red leader or someone else if you’re fine with that??? 🥺💜

Mwah mwah you have amazing work <3 /p

Oh my gods I am SO sorry that this is so late!! For some reason, Mr. Tumblr decided not to notify me about your ask?? And then I was at my bestie's house this weekend, so I haven't checked my inbox until now. Begging for your forgiveness rn Anon!!

Also literally kissing you for asking for Red Leader!! Mwah, mwah!!

---

Edd

If you are dating Edd... girlie I am so sorry for your sanity.

Don't get me wrong, I love Edd! He was my first Eddsworld love, my pookie bear for real! But he's the biggest bastard of the entire gang and I stand by that.

Calls you dumb pet names to try and make you laugh. Sugar Tits (regardless of gender or lack thereof, might I add), Baby Doll, Sexy.

He WILL grab/slap your ass all the time. Even in public. Only grins when you glare at him.

This man is a horrible influence. It will be so hard to get your shit done if he has decided that you need to be spending time with him. Why worry about work or chores when you could be all cuddled up with him and Ringo on the couch?

Will sulk if you reject his attempts.

If he's trying to get shit done and you're pestering him for attention? He will drop his basket of laundry or the dishes in his hands in a millisecond.

If he's working on a commission or animation, he'll let you sit in his lap in his chair, let you sit all pretty for him while he works. When he finishes, if you've fallen asleep by then -which you usually do - then he'll carefully move you both to his bed and snuggle up to you and take a nap with you.

Speaking of cuddling, he does naturally run hot. Comes with being a big boy <3 But if you don't enjoy that, then he'll use his powers to cool down his skin for you. Anything to keep cuddling!

He also uses his powers whenever possible. Will abuse them without shame. He puts things on the highest shelf, just so you have to him for help. He'll put patches of ice on the floor under your feet, just so he can catch you before you fall (he'll never let you actually get hurt), and uses his super strength to scoop you up randomly and carry you around.

You cannot show your text messages to ANYONE. He will say filthy things, just to fluster you. Horny Bastard. Finds ways to turn even the most mundane conversations into teasing.

He'd do cute couple things with you, like painting together and swapping canvases every 5 minutes. His favorite is going to cat cafes. The cats literally love him, its like he's made of catnip with how they swarm him.

Physical affection is a huge thing with him. Even little touches throughout the day, like ruffling your hair as he passes by, or a big hug from behind while you fix food.

Overall, big teddy bear that just likes to see his darling blush.

Tom

As I've stated in previous works, Tom is a secret romantic.

He's not a traditional romantic like Matt, but he's romantic in his own way.

Likes parallel play a lot. Finds it relaxing to just sit in his room, testing new songs on his bass while you lay on his bed reading a book. Or in your room, lounging on one of your plush beanbag and organizing his Spotify playlists while you fold your laundry.

Dates with him consist of record stores, concerts, and late night walks.

He'll sing for you if you ask him to.

Very down to earth, both as a person and as a boyfriend. If you have problems, he'll listen patiently until you're done, then help you brainstorm solutions. He doesn't downplay or ignore your feelings, but he doesn't jump to emotions like others might.

He tends to sleep in late on his nights off, since he's more of a night owl than anything. You know that, so you've made it a little tradition to fix him coffee around 11. You know exactly how he takes it, and he always thanks you with a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy, mumbled "you're the best."

Very caring. He'll make sure you've eaten and had water. Will usher you to bed if he can see that you're tired, or do your chores for you if you can't do them for whatever reason. If you can't sleep, he'll make you a mug of chamomile tea and sing you a little lullaby.

When it comes to his monster tendencies, he tries to keep you away from it all. He's bitter about what he is, and he thinks that you're better off separated from that side of him.

At the start of relationship, he'd get angry if you tried to push it. He'd snap at you, distance himself, not talk to you for maybe a couple of days. Further on in the relationship, though, if you push the issue and reassure him that you love every side of him, even the monstrous one, then he'd be more willing. Willing to let you in, to let you see that part of him. He'd be nervous about it, but he'd do it because he loves you.

Matt

He is a traditional romantic! His Mama raised him right, and he drinks his Respect Juice.

Makes sure you two have date night at least once every week. Dressing up nice, going out to dinner or a play, taking a walk through the town to wind down the night. Heading back into the house, changing back into comfortable clothes. He'd wipe your makeup off for you, if you wear it.

Absolutely the kind of guy to get down on his knees in front of you and unbuckle/untie your shoes or high heels for you. He's just so devotional.

If, for whatever reason, you guys are unable to have your date night, he'll make it up to you in some way. A bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on your bed with a little note. A passionate kiss before one of you has to leave the house. A heartfelt love letter sealed with wax.

Makes sure to text you throughout the day with sweet messages. Compliments, "I love you"s, selfies, updates on what is happening at work. Or just reminders that he's thinking of you. Misses you.

Likes to cook meals for you if its just the two of you at home. Breakfast is his forte, but he's not the worst at following a recipe.

Always amazing for advice. He'll let you talk to him while he hugs you from behind. If it's something sad, he might cry. Just the idea of you going through something negative makes him sad, too.

If he doesn't have advice for you, he'd do anything in his power to find someone who does. One of the other roommates, or even his mother, if you're comfortable with it.

Speaking of his mother, she absolutely adores you. Since Matt has such a good relationship with her, he's already told her so much about you. She thinks its wonderful that her baby has fallen in love. After a while, Matt will even bring you along to his lunches with his mother. You two hit it off instantly.

If you're okay with it, then Matt would love to show you off on his social media. He thinks you're so gorgeous, the entire world should know that he managed to land you. Its never anything invasive, and he always gets your permission before he posts things. Blocks any weird or gross comments.

Loves going on shopping dates with you. Most of the time, its at the mall or a mall in a different town, because he loves walking around and window shopping. Occasionally, he'll take you to more expensive stores. It doesn't bother him, he loves spoiling you. No matter where you two are, he'll buy you anything that you want. If you are adamant to spend your own money, he won't put up too much of a fuss, though he does prefer to pay for you.

He'll do that couples trend with you where you find nail polish that matches the other's eye color.

Gift giving is just one of his love languages in general. It makes him so happy to give his loved one things that he bought. For you specifically, he'll also throw in hand made gifts. He may not be the most talented artistically, but he'll stay awake late into the night, sitting on the floor with a YouTube tutorial playing, paper and cardboard scattered around, a pencil between his teeth, paint on his hands and smeared on his cheek. The end result may look a little crude, but he'll still present it to you with pride. And, of course, you always love it.

Tord

Tord is probably the most romantically stunted of the four. Its not that he doesn't love you, far from it really. He just grew up in an environment where love wasn't freely given, and was often limited for appearances.

His father, as the Red Leader, insisted that he keep a professional and feared image. So, Tord never saw him being affectionate with his mother.

It might be hard at first. You'll struggle. You two may fight. But you'll always make up in the end. He'll listen to you, try to understand your point of view.

He's not against physical affection, but he's able to live without it. Will indulge you whenever you ask. If he's busy, which he usually is, he'll let you drape yourself over him from behind while he sits in his chair, letting you rest your cheek on the top of his head and watch him work.

More than anything, his love language is words of affirmation. Despite being a man of few words, he'll always give you praise. He'll make sure you know that you are his, he is yours, and he loves you. Nothing will change that.

Scary dog privilege. He'll always walk just behind you in public, keeping a guiding hand on the small of your back. Stays alert of you surroundings and the people around, so that you don't have to. You don't even have to worry about people approaching you in public. One piercing glare from Tord is enough to deter anyone.

Not the best at giving advice to problems. He'll listen, but sometimes he can't quite understand why something is an issue. Doesn't invalidate your feelings on purpose, it just happens inadvertently at times. Always, ALWAYS apologizes and holds you close when he realizes what he did.

His preferred dates are nights in at home. Cuddled up on the couch with takeout watching shitty rom-coms. Cooking food that he ate growing up in Norway while you sit at the kitchen table watching. Going to the convenience store at midnight to get Ben and Jerry's in the middle of anime binges.

You become his crutch. When he's having bad paranoia on nights that are too quiet, he'll seek you out. Just having you lay in bed with him, warm and solid and breathing, always calms him down.

He will never let you meet his parents. You are one of the very few good things in his life, and he wants to keep that away from his fucked up home life. Might let you meet his little sister, but not for a long time.

Surprisingly, he does tend to talk more when its just the two of you. He allows you into his head, verbalizing his thoughts to you. He'll ramble about his projects, tell you about the history behind his culture, or rant about things that annoy him. Denies it vehemently in front of others.

He is a huge tease, second only to Edd. What's dangerous is how casual he is about it. Loves making you squirm, and he'll never even change his expression. Sometimes he won't even be looking at you, but rest assured that he is swimming in satisfaction over how flustered you are.

Red Leader

I have so many thoughts about him. Oh my lord.

This is going off the scenario where Reader is a Red Army soldier and met him through the army, after the events of The End.

I want to clarify that this is NOT following the events of TBATF!!! This is my own Red Army timeline, what I refer to in my Eddsworld bubble as "The Bad End"

There are two ways that you'd be able to catch Red Leader's attention. Either you are an extremely talented soldier that does well among your peers, enough to earn the praise of your superior officers and eventually Red Leader himself. Or, you were assigned as his personal assistant to help with paperwork and meetings, but you were so good at handling his temper and attitude that he found himself surprised.

The latter of the two is my favorite, so I'll be working under that one.

Before you, Red Leader had been through several assistants. None of them lasted more than a month. By nature, he was a moody, temperamental man. The stress of the army and oncoming war only made that worse. He saw those previous assistants as nuisances, only getting in his way. He would yell at them, berate them, drive them to the brink until they beg Paul and Pat to transfer them.

When they assigned you to him, they expected the same thing to happen. The two even made bets on how long you'd last. On your first day, Red Leader was nasty to you. Gruff and rude. But... you bit back. That took him by surprise. Instead of taking the insult and shuffling out like a puppy with its tail between its legs, you pursed your lips and gave him a stern look and talked to him in a way that nobody dared to. He should've been angry. Should have screamed at you, discharged you from the army in a heartbeat.

Instead, he found that he quite enjoyed it. He enjoyed your spitfire. Not that he'd let you know. He only gave you a noncommittal hum and dismissed you with a wave of his hand. But... he kept you around. Even found excuses for you to come into his office more than necessary. His penchant for teasing came back full force. He'd poke and prod, finding ways to make you react with that fire he so loved.

It takes a long time for him to finally make a move. Probably takes a near-death experience for him, or an injury to you for him to realize that he wants this. He wants a future with you.

At first, he may seem a little cold in public. Not to the degree that his father was - he promised himself that he would never be like his father. Simply a more... professional air about the entire thing. It was more out of anxiety than anything. He didn't want to make you a target, didn't want to cause you to get hurt. As his army grows more powerful and takes over more and more countries, he grows more comfortable with PDA. He knows that when he is the most powerful man in the world, he doesn't have to worry about anyone hurting you.

He would probably treat you more like a spouse than a girlfriend/boyfriend right off the bat. He's older now, thinking more about the future than the present. He already knows that he wants to be with you forever, so why go through the formalities and hassle of dating?

Always makes time for you whenever he can. If he's in a meeting with his generals or another world leader, he'll sneak text messages to you. Doesn't give a shit if he's caught. What are they going to do to him, Red Leader?

If he's cooped up in his office all day, his door is always open to you. Loves having you drop by unannounced to bring him food or coffee. He'll let you climb into his lap while he works, or sit behind him in his chair and cling to him. Even if you're just sitting in a separate chair nearby, working on your own stuff. He's happy.

If you want to continue being a soldier, or his assistant, he'll let you. But he's also perfectly happy to have you simply be his partner and not have a care in the world. You could sit all pretty in his quarters waiting for him to get off duty, or use the time to pursue your own hobbies and interests. As long as you're happy and cared for, it's okay with him.

Spoils you rotten. You're Red Leader's, so of course you only deserve the best things. Anything in the world you want, you only have to ask for it. It's yours. He would raze entire cities just to see you smile.

He does enjoy taking you out on dates. While also spending time with you, he sees it as a way to show you off to the world. Dressing you up in the finest clothes that he got you, the prettiest jewelry that he bought. Taking you to restaurants and operas where everyone can see you hanging on his arm. It makes him puff up with pride.

When the two of you are alone, he's so adoring. Loves snuggling. It's a struggle to convince him to let you out of bed in the mornings, he'll just be clinging to you. If you do somehow manage to escape his grasp, he'll catch you around the waist and drag you back to bed. Won't stop until Paul or Pat message him to get his ass out of bed. He always grumbles about how "it's my damn army, I should get to sleep in as long as I want".

Sometimes, at night, he has pains in his right shoulder, the side where he's burned and amputated. It can range from a dull ache to excruciating pain. On nights that it hurts too much to move, you'll scramble out of bed and get his medication from his nightstand, gently coaxing him to take it. You'll hold him and comfort him until the pain subsides and he falls back asleep.

He doesn't like to talk about it, really. It feels weird, letting anyone see this part of his life. Letting you see his vulnerability. Letting you see him.

But he does.

#eddsworld #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld tom #eddsworld tord #eddsworld matt #eddsworld tom x reader #eddsworld tord x reader #eddsworld edd #eddsworld matt x reader #eddsworld edd x reader #requested #eddsworld red leader #eddsworld red leader x reader

[theminecraftbee]

Grian comes to again, flat on his back, and groans. Distantly, he hears Scar yelling an apology. It’s hard to tell if Scar had accidentally dropped sand, accidentally kicked one of the dragon eggs currently littering their bases (causing it to fall), or had missed concrete somewhere and caused that to drop, but the apology, this time, was at least sincere, so he’s fairly certain Scar didn’t intentionally knock Grian out. Doesn’t mean Grian hadn’t been knocked on his ass by, what, a pavlovian reaction to sand? But it means Scar hadn’t been intentionally exploiting it.

He’s rubbing his head when he hears them chittering distantly. He looks up, and then he Looks up, just to make sure he’s not imagining it, and… yep, they’re there. The Watchers. They’re busy happily chittering about the fact that Grian passes out when any block falls to the ground. Of course they are. He wonders if this is their fault. Probably not; Watchers may be annoying, but they can’t see the future, so it’s not like they’d have known about the egg thing ahead of time. No, they’re probably just amused at his suffering.

Joke’s on them. This is mostly just going to make cleaning up slower. And they’re going to have to deal with that too, on account of the fact Grian can’t do much else until it’s done.

He’s trying to hit another egg with a piston when he hears, distantly, “shoot, the beach!”, realizes what has happened, and then he’s waking up on the ground again. He stares at the sky for a moment.

“Trust Scar with sand, I thought. He terraforms all the time, I thought. He won’t keep messing me up with it, I thought.” He groans.

The chittering of the Watchers gets louder. He hears a lot of ‘Scar’ and ‘sand’ and ‘he can’t bear it’ and. Great. Grian’s pretty sure he knows what comment is coming next—

you’ve never left that desert.

“So this is your fault!” he says, accusingly. “Why! All it’s done is make my life more confusing!”

Indistinct noises. At one point, when Grian had been more one of them than he is now, he had been able to tell all of the voices apart easily. Now, the Watchers are somewhere between the wall of incomprehensible, horrible sound that they are to mortals and normal voices. He has to strain to pick out anything overly specific. He supposes if he chose to go all Watcher again he’d be able to tell what they’re saying, but frankly, they’re all annoying, so why would he bother? Better to stick to things as they are.

He messages Scar: If you drop sand one more time I am going to figure out how to add more dragon eggs to your base.

Scar messages back: its an accideet

Grian responds one more time: lol. accideet.

He takes a moment before standing up to check around himself. Scar does seem to have moved on from whatever he’d been doing with terraforming to keep dropping gravity blocks, so it’s probably safe to stand without passing out again. What had he been doing? Right. Eggs. Piston.

you never left that desert, Grian hears again from the wall of noise.

“Right. That’s me. Never left,” Grian says. Honestly.

can’t stand the sight of scar and sand.

“You know you guys are reaching, right?” Grian says.

never left—

“I would if you’d let me!” snaps Grian.

Indistinct chittering. Deep breaths. He’s fine. He's apparently developed sand-based epilepsy or something, and is trying to find the solution to that, but. Fine. He’s fine. It’s not like arguing with Watchers is ever actually worth it. They never change their mind. The thing is that they tend to think they know exactly how he works, and no matter how much he tries to refute their baseless assumptions, they still have a picture in their head, and they still keep working off of it.

A strange shudder runs down his back.

you never left that desert.

“Look, it’s not that I’m not over it,” Grian says. “I’m actually pretty over it. I’ve been over it since Last Life, really, even if none of you believe me.” He puts another egg in his inventory. “Scar’s my friend and he’s a weird guy and I like him, but it’s not like I’m not over that stupid game. Wouldn’t keep playing it if I weren’t over it, would I?”

Indistinct chittering about tragedy and deserts and dramatic final suicides and, look, Grian is good at telling stories. That’s the whole point. That’s why these guys won’t leave him alone. But sometimes, he swears…

“So you know, I would have left the desert by now. It’s just that you all haven’t. So guess who’s still stuck here? Believe me, it’s not me who’s not over it. If you wanted me out of the desert, you could let me leave any time you’d l—”

He has a second’s warning before he’s on the ground, dizzy, hoping he hasn’t gotten a concussion. He glances down at his communicator.

Mumbo says: that was me this time my bad

Shakily, Grian types: you have 10 seconds. start running.

The chittering gets more distant. Grian gets up. He checks to make sure his wings are on. He goes to light a rocket, but not before shouting: “Scar, if you do anything with gravity blocks while I am actively flying I will kill you dead!”

“Have fun buddy!” Scar shouts back. Grian’s not sure Scar actually heard a word he said. Well, hopefully there will be no sand falling from his hands while he goes to murder Mumbo, then. If there is, Grian’s—well, Grian’s going to have a broken bone at that rate, but he’s recovered from far worse falls. Some of those have even been Scar’s fault, by some measure or another.

He Looks back up at the mass he knows are the Watchers. “If this is you all’s fault because you never seem to have gotten over the whole desert thing, I’ll find a way to, I don’t know. Inconvenience you greatly. Not sure what I’ll do, but I’ll figure it out.”

The chittering gets way more fond, then. Pleased. They want him to do that. Can’t even threaten the assholes properly, they like it. Honestly, Grian doesn’t know why he bothers. It’s not like they’ll listen. No matter how many times he says he’s over it, it’s not like they’ll listen.

(Sometimes, he hates that he’s so good at stories.)

Right then. Time to wreak havoc on his friends for exploiting his very exploitable weakness, then. This sword’s got sharpness on it, right?

------

(originally written for @hermitcraftguesstheauthorevent, and posted on ao3 here; now that it's revealed, i figured i'd go ahead and post it here, since it really matches the cadence of one of my tumblr things more than an ao3-only fic. enjoy!)

#hermitcraft #grian #the watchers #desert duo #KIND OF? i think this COUNTS? #a bee fic #anyway guess the author was cool! thank you so much <3 #wrote this like immediately after the falling sand stuff came out as a musing on some of the ways people were talking abotu it #you know how it is. sometimes you've gotta metacommentary.

[queenofcoquette]

how i started to feel pretty

hey loves! i’ve struggled with feeling insecure over my looks, but recently i’ve made changes that have helped me be less insecure. little improvements with my lifestyle and mindset have already made a big difference. first i’m going to talk about my insecurities, then what i did and then general tips.

my insecurities:

hyperpigmentation. i have bad undereye bags due to genetics that landed my family to call all of our eyes “raccoon eyes.” then redness above my eyelids, then darkness above my upper lip no matter how much i shaved. 

facial asymmetry. we all have it, but i felt so bad anytime i took a selfie and i couldn’t bear to take any photos of myself. 

body dysmorphia. this one is weird. i don’t view my body the way others do, and honestly the way i view it changes all the time.

changes i’ve made:

first i started doing things that didn’t help. they were temporary solutions that did nothing. i used concealer and powder for the hyperpigmentation- but it looked cakey and a little ashy-kinda cuz i wasn’t using a color corrector. for my body i did these “abs in 2 weeks!” challenges during covid, and was restrictive, which is the worst thing you can do for yourself.

for my skin:

i started using the glycolic acid serum by the ordinary. this stuff is life changing! i’ve been going makeup free on my skin lately and my skin tone has gotten so much more even. plus it’s affordable and it’s a giant bottle.

for my face:

i started doing face massages for muscle tension

i also realized that my facial asymmetry is 1) normal (we all have it to a certain extent and 2) it’s probably not as bad as i think it is. 

for my body:

i’ve started to focus more on health than appearances, because that my view of my body is distorted. i don’t see it like other people do, so i need to prioritize my health. i started eating MORE- more foods that are healthy, more fruits and vegtables. instead of restricing i allowed myself to have more.

i developed a pilates plan that focused on building strength, and incorporated a little bit of weights. now that i play sports i’ve put an emphasis on strength which has actually helped me get more toned.

journaling. i began to write down about my feelings- the way i view other people vs. the way i view myself. it made me realize how social media gave me an unrealistic image, and how i wasn’t viewing myself the way i really am.

advice:

what are you insecure about? the first step is just writing down your biggest insecurities- aka why don’t you feel beautiful? what made you feel this way? no one is born feeling ugly- we’re all taught to feel this way, whether it’s comments that have been made to us or others.

find people with similar stories. this helped me in the past, watching videos about people who had the same insecurities as me, it opened my eyes to how harshly i treat myself. 

get to the root of it. for my skin i realized that covering up my hyperpigmentation with makeup wouldn’t solve the problem, so i put an emphasis on incorporating things into my skincare routine that could solve the problem, without makeup!

think in the long-term. think about what’s healthy for you, and the most natural way of doing so. for example, when it came to my body i had to think about what’s healthy for me overall, not a quick fix. quick fixes aren’t attainable!

prioritize mental and physical health. i think we should all embrace our natural beauty by focusing on our skincare and the health of our hair. additionally, mental health is equally important, especially when it comes to body image.

positive thinking. a lot of times we tend to vocalize our negative thoughts, ive heard ppl make horrible comments about their bodies and things like that. first of all, stop saying those things out loud- you’re only reaffirming them in your head, and furthering the bad feeling. when you get horrible thoughts about yourself, try to stop them and replace them with good ones. even if you don’t believe it at first, you soon will.

it sometimes takes a while for beautiful people to realize how gorgeous they are. i had friends who i thought were some of the prettiest girls in the world, but they didn’t even realize it. i bet there’s so many people in your life who look at you and see the beauty in you that you don’t see in yourself. just stay healthy and keep positive thoughts, and i hope in time you’ll see your inner and outer beauty.

#that girl #that girl 2023 #self improvement #pink pilates princess #queenofcoquette

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for using my status as an agender person to get a surgery I want although I do not want it for gender-related issues ?

TW : talk of uterus, menstrual cycles and menstrual blood

I'll start by saying this is not the US so please don't make your judgement based on that. I'll describe how things are in my country.

So I (X24) want my uterus removed. The main reason is that I want to be sterilised to stop having so much anxiety about becoming pregnant, which would be a nightmare for me, and I never ever want this to happen again.

But I can't get any other form of sterilisation as then I would keep my uterus, so I would keep my period, and without hormonal treatment it's just not liveable. To give you an idea, my natural cycles are 21 days instead of 28, I get my period for 7 days instead of 5 and it can be hemorrhagic for up to 4 days of these 7. (I used to get post-op medication because of the hemorrhagia before I was under contraception.) And of course I get through excruciating pain every time, beside having iron deficiency among other things. I'm currently trying another hormonal contraception, it's still not going well. There is always something wrong. My first pill just stopped working, the next ones made me gain 20kg, I'm currently trying hormonal IUD and although I don't bleed as much, I bleed for so long and there is so much pain that no available painkillers can block. I'm so tired. I can't imagine going through that for another 15 to 25 years.

In my country, it is written in law that you are allowed to be sterilised using various methods, all of which keep the uterus. Nothing is said for hysterectomy as a sterilisation method. And although many refuse to sterilise you at all, if you find the right surgeon you can be no matter your age. The procedure is also fully reimbursed. Nothing is said in law about hysterectomy.

This means that the vast majority of surgeons won't remove your uterus. Except if you have a pathology related to it or if you're trans (coming back to that later).

So what I described above does look like a uterus with a pathology, right? It certainly looks like endometriosis at least. I went to a surgeon known for doing the other kinds of sterilisation and tried to convince him to just remove my uterus. He refused, not without an asserted pathology. To his credit, he looked for it. He had me take an MRI. Well, they found nothing.

Which means that, although I have a pretty dysfunctional uterus that I never want to use and just keeps causing me problems, he won't remove it. Because they can't find the cause. Even though I feel completely alienated from my body because of that damn organ that keeps trying to make me bear children and will have me bleed out and in pain when I won't allow it.

Then there is the other solution. I said above you could get surgery if you are trans. It's actually a bit more complicated that that. In order to get HRT and gender affirming surgery, you first need to get diagnosed with body dysphoria by a psychiatrist. And then you get a special status in our health system that allows you to get free access to all kinds of things in the medical field (like surgery and HRT) and beyond (like laser depilation).

As I said, I'm agender. They give this status to nonbinary people so my specific flavour of gender (or lack thereof) is not the issue. But I don't have body dysphoria, only social dysphoria. People misgendering me to my face will make me feel horrible but I don't see my body as gendered. My breasts and specifically my uterus are not something that I see as gendered, so they're not something that causes me distress in terms of gender-related issues. Which means as psychiatrist is never going to diagnose me with gender dysphoria as is, and I won't have access to hysterectomy through trans care.

Except if I fake it.

Now, I have no idea if it could even work. If I could even fool someone. But I've been considering trying because I really, really want to get rid of that damn uterus. And technically, I wouldn't be faking my gender identity. Just expanding on my dysphoria. Still, it feels wrong. I wouldn't transition in any other way except removing the uterus. This path doesn't feel like it's mine to take. I feel it would be disrespectful towards actual, dysphoric trans people.

So, what do you say Tumblr ? WIBTA if I tried it anyway ?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[cruciomione]

"fixing" the panic attack scene to be more platonic ™

im extremely active on twt and have been noticing a sydcarmy tweet go viral multiple times a week (like w thousands of interactions its crazy), and its really great to see how much people love and see it for this ship. recently carmys panic attack scene went viral again, and naturally, some ppl gave their piece about how we are all dumb for interpreting it as romantic. that sydney represents his love for his job or his duty to the restaurant (*sigh*).

this scene imo, is the most concrete proof of this ship. i can excuse (not really) interpreting every interaction between them thus far as platonic but this scene....i just refuse. this is gonna be a long post, not analyzing the scene per se because i can't possibly say anything that hasn't already been said but more "fixing" the scene to fit the narrative of antis, and i hope in doing so really shows there's no other way to interpret this scene as other than romantic. again its gonna be a long post bc im just ranting and i think i will lose my mind if i dont type this out.

lets go.

so first off i like to think of this scene as an equation/experiment. simply a problem that needs to be solved.

problem/reason of panic = ...we will discuss this...

solution # 1 = claire -> failed

solution # 2 = sydney -> worked.

Problem/Reason

s02e09 opens up with carmy and claire finally consummating their relationship, with an interesting song choice might i add and carmy dissociating, looking sad, or broken (???) after. because many have said carmy pulling memories of sydney from his psyche to calm down have to do with work i always remember that, it really doesnt make any sense?

carmy is clearly having a panic attack due to him not being "fixed" as soon as he made it official with claire. he felt pressure from his family both currently and in the past to date claire because she is amazing and perfect. add mikey also being a part of that crowd, and carmy so desperately trying to connect with him when he cannot, is why i think he looks so despondent after that scene. i truly think he thought he would be a changed person after everything with claire and when that didn't happen he flipped...

we know this is the reason bc his panic attack starts with their sex scene and the lyric "I dont know" from strange currencies by REM.

this isn't to say that he isn't nervous or stressed about the soft open but its clear that he's not having a panic attack about work nor have we ever seen him have a work-related panic attack (correct me if I'm wrong). in s1 he has one or two due to him greiving his brother.

platonic fix: To make it about work I would have added scenes like when Carmy started that stove fire in braciole, his meltdown in review, some scenes of his horrible time at EMP, and him grieving his brother. i think these would represent his fear of failure, falling back into old toxic habits pertaining his career, the fear of fostering a toxic work environment like the ny chef and also the idea of "failing" mikey

but theres a reason why none of this occurs bc its not about his job or the opening of the bear. this is explicitly about his personal and romantic love life.

Solution # 1 : Claire

carmy proceeds to try and calm down by thinking of claire through literal rose-coloured glasses...

the music is distorted, he's thinking of his abusive family, he remembers every one pushing him to date claire bc shes a #goodthing.

again...this is not about his job and wouldnt make sense to think of sydneys place in his work life as a soultion to his clear personal problem....

platonic fix: in the story of carmys love life claire and sydney act as narrative foils. they have been compared and contrasted for all of s2. my platonic fix for this would be making the NY chef this first "solution" of a work-related panic attack. he represents a horrible time in his life but also represents a time when carmy was at the height of his career. when carmy gets locked in the walk in and has his monologue, its alluded to that he will revert back to that mind set in order to not let everyone down.

NY chef abused him for so long, it makes sense that carmys psyche would readily go back to his insults and the time he himself was an isolated 'psycho' bc it yielded results.

nothing is black and white and i DO think sydney represents a healthier approach to the toxic mess that is the culinary world and does represent that for carmy. if the show was invested in that, sydney and the NY chef could be overtly contrasted like sydney and claire have been.

BUT again this isnt about his job and dedication as a chef...thus why he tries to think of claire to solve his personal problem, and it fails.

Solution # 2: Sydney

LMFAOOO.

carmy then in a crazy plot twist starts thinking of his platonic work bestie sydney adamu....the love song dedicated by the show to his relationship with his girlfriend is then made clear highlighting some pretty damning lyrics about desire and love.....all platonic btw. yes you are dumb if you think otherwise (*wink*)

I actually have two platonic fixes for this...

platonic fix # 1: if we only wanted to focus on sydney as a person who calms carmy down because shes his work bestie who represents his responsibilty to the bear and the postive change they are trying effect in the culinary world, i would add scenes where they are...you know actually cooking???

i think its pretty crazy how the memories carmys immediately jump to are ones that have little to do with their jobs. when they first meet (would also like to note that when carmy first laid eyes on Sydney, he forgot she was there for a job, so this is his raw reaction to seeing a pretty girl lol) and when she comes back after she quit and their break up fight.

i would add their scenes in carmys kitchen (even tho this is extremely damning bc they were flirting DOWN - they don't make this easy at all). this represents their collaboration skills and the way they WORK and bounce ideas off of each other seamlessly. specifically the scene about him wanting to give her a star, representing his duty to her and the restaurant.

*and no shade to carmy but if his responsibility to the bear/syd as a co-worker was bothering him this much and calmed him down wouldn't he have just immediately called the fridge guy.....anyways*

platonic fix # 2 (the best one): if i was chris storer and joanna calo and i REALLY wanted to sell it that carmy isnt in love with sydney then i would put every single member of the OG beef crew + Nat to calm him down not just Sydney.

im talking to them laughing at family, carmy giving tina his chefs knife, richie in his new suit, carmys one on one w Marcus/trying his donut, nat telling carmy shes pregnant (signifing rebirth/wanting to rid all the toxic abuse from his family), carmy trying sydney risotto, and her face when he said it was tremendous etc etc...you get the gist

and honestly?

even as i type this out im tearing up a little bit bc that would have been really beautiful. carmy is changing. he can and is getting rid of old toxic habits from his family and the mess that is the culinary industry. things are changing for the better....that would be beautiful....IF his panic attack was about any of these things lol.

and to even look at this scene without this need for symmetry and we entertain the idea of carmy thinking about his job as a solution for his personal problem...carmy has said himself (s02e01) that this isnt fun for him. i dont think that means he hates cooking i kinda disagree with the ppl who think he isnt passionate about it. i just think currently its something that doesnt bring him joy but i do think its something hes starting to or at least could have started to enjoy if he just committed to working with syd...

conclusion

theres a lot of....delusion? denial? straight up bias? yes all of that, going on.

idk what is happening bc this show is really great at being subtle. but i dont know whats more in your face, dumbed down, even a toddler could understand, than this scene. if you dont come out of this understanding that carmy is falling in love/currently in love with Sydney...and i hate using this term..but you just arent media literate.

bonus: bc it makes me laugh and connects the purpose and solutions.

i think we need a Snyder Sydcarmy Cut™ of bolognese and omelette.

the start of the episode is when sydney and carmy fight over claires inclusion in the menu, and also when sydney randomly asks him to define his relationship with Claire. the episode would continue until we get to the table scene.

i think its WILD how as soon as Sydney asks him to define their relationship, carmy starts calling claire his girlfriend. then the show proceeds to insert sydney in their romantic montage, shows her tattoo about heartbreak and someone getting in the way of your relationship...THEN proceeds to have carmy compare these two women in his mind and only calms down after seeing Sydney.

i could talk about this scene for AGES. wheres the straitjacket....

#the bear #sydcarmy #carmen x sydney #sydney x carmy #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #idk why i typed this out #its not even really meta im just crazy about them and even more crazier about defending them #also tired of seeing braindead takes #yea... #hope you enjoyed my rant #time to go study for this bio midterm #my rants #sydcarmy meta

[stars-and-inkpots]

Ok- sorry I’ve never done this before. But I was wondering if you could do a Gale fic/ oneshot where tav/reader somehow finds a way to like remove his orb but instead of getting rid of it all together it goes to them? Like now they have the orb in their chest and they have like all the pain and the possibility of going boom? If not that’s completely fine- I just had that idea and I felt you’d be amazing for it! I hope you have an amazing day!<3

OKAY! I know I've been gone for like five months, but I finally got motivated again! (Those new patches have thrown me right back into my hyperfixation) I know this is so very very late, but I hope you enjoy! I really liked this idea, and it honestly might end of a part of a multi-chapter thing if I get around to it. This is set before the events of the game.

(p.s. it's 3 am and I haven't really read through this, so I'm sorry if there are some mistakes that I won't catch till I've slept)

What's Yours is Mine | Gale x Reader

After months of research, you finally find a way to get rid of the volatile orb in Gale's chest. Of course, things don't work out exactly the way you intend them to.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, brief allusion to suicide(kinda?)

Ao3 Link: Baldur's Gate 3 Requests

Word Count: 1249

You know it isn’t going to be easy. It’s taken months of research, and even now as you look through the large practically ancient book, you aren’t entirely sure that this is going to work. Gale is sceptical too, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He also knows that when it comes to old magic like this, there is always the chance of something going wrong. It wasn’t like this was simple magic either. The nature of his condition is complicated and volatile, and this could easily cause problems.  

Gale sits in the centre of the chalk circle while you finish drawing the runes around it. 

“Are you sure about this, my love?” 

You’ve been talking in circles like this for the past twenty minutes while you’ve been preparing for the actual ritual. 

“Yes, Gale. We’re so close to a solution now.” You draw the final line of a rune and walk over to kneel in front of him. “I’m sure. If there’s a chance to help you, I want to take it.” You kiss his forehead and he gives you a small smile. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

“I’m sure,” he answers, and kisses you quickly before you stand again. 

With the circle of runes finished, you move to grab the book. The page you need is bookmarked, and you flip to it to study the words on the page once more. Between the lines are notes and annotations in both Gale’s and your own writing. You added reminders on how to pronounce some of the words, and Gale had marked the translation. You look at Gale once more, and he gives you a reassuring nod. 

You start reciting the lines from the book. Immediately, you can feel the air begin to buzz with magic. Three lines in, and you can taste copper, which is a common side-effect when it comes to older magic like this so it’s not too concerning yet. What is a little worrying, is the sheer amount of power you can feel moving through your body while you speak, and the slight purple glow that is spreading across your arms and steadily growing brighter. You chance a glance at Gale and notice that he too seems to be feeling the same effects. There’s a growing apprehension in both of you as you continue to speak the words on the page. By the time you reach the final line, the feeling is almost unbearable. It’s like the pressure in the room has increased tenfold, like a weight has been dropped on your shoulders and bears down on your lungs.

Once you utter the final word, everything seems to slow for a moment. 

Then you feel it. 

A horrible pain wracks through your body. You let out a scream. It feels like something is tearing open your chest- or is it clawing its way in? You can’t tell; you can’t think. Your vision is dark, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you’ve blacked out or because pain has forced your eyes shut. Everything feels cold, far, far too cold, but also so terribly hot. 

Finally, the pain lessens enough that you can take a full breath, though it is interrupted by a sputtering cough. When you eventually open your eyes again, you realise that at some point you must have fallen to the floor. You can feel Gale’s arms around you, he is shaking. 

“Did it work?” You ask, despite how much it hurts to speak. The burning feeling in your chest hasn’t entirely left yet. 

“That doesn’t matter. Are you okay?” 

You try to sit up and wince with the effort. Gods, your chest hurts. 

“I’ll be alright. Gale, did it work?” You ask again, looking for the tell-tale mark on his chest and neck. You find the scar still, skin sunken in some parts and raised in others, but it is no longer the usual, shimmering purple. Now, it just looks like a normal (save for the shape) scar. You smile, because at least the spell did its job. Then you see a look of horror cross Gale’s face. 

“No, gods no,” he whispers, tentatively brushing his fingers along your collarbone. You hiss in pain. It feels like he’s brushed his hands across a fresh burn. 

You bring your own hand up to feel the centre of your chest, and your stomach drops. You know the shape, having memorised it from the number of times you ran your hands across Gale’s scar. This spell worked, but not in the way it should have. 

“We have to do it again,” Gale stands, pushing a still shaky hand through his messy hair. He stares at the special candles that have already burnt far too low to make it through the ritual a second time, and lets himself believe that they will be enough. “I am not going to let you carry my burden like this. Get in the circle and I can start the ritual again.”

“You know that won’t work. The candles are out, and all the herbs and incense are burnt, not to mention the crystals. It will take ages to find those again.” You don’t blame him for this, no matter how much he might blame himself and how much he might want you to blame him. “I’ll be fine, Gale. You managed it for so long, and now it’s my turn. We’ll figure it out.” A part of you remembers what Gale said of his power and how the orb drained it, but you quickly silence those thoughts before you can worry too much about your own magic. 

“No. This wretched thing is the consequence of my mistake. I will not let you suffer through it. I can’t.” He’s kneeling in front of you again, cradling your face in his hands. “What if it becomes unstable? I can’t-” Gale tries and fails to keep his voice steady. “That cannot happen to you.” 

“And it would be better if it were to happen to you? It is fine for you to die with it?” You return, perhaps too harshly, but surely now he might understand how it felt to hear him say such things when it was him with the magic bomb in his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” is all he answers after a few moments of silence. You aren’t sure what exactly he’s apologising for, but you wrap your arms around him and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“We’ll figure this out. We always do. I promise.” The pain still hasn’t subsided completely. You can’t imagine how Gale has managed to grit his teeth and bear it on his worst days if this is how the orb feels when it is, more or less, stable. You feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head. “It’s like we always say, remember? What’s yours is mine.” The phrase was common between you two. It was one of the first things Gale had said when you moved into the tower with him. ‘What’s mine is yours,’ he had said with a grand sweeping gesture. Since then it has been used whenever either of you had to borrow something from the other, anything from books to warm wool sweaters you had no intention of returning anytime soon. It seems strange to say it now, but you hope it gets your point across regardless; by the slight shake of Gale’s chest as he laughs softly, you figure it has. 

#bg3 #baldurs gate x reader #gale dekarios #x reader fic #gale x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate gale

[arihi]

Abuse >:) I won't even toggle anon

(CW: Abusive dynamics and abuse (per the prompt) - skip if that's not your thing!)

“Again.”

I flinched instinctively, my stomach dropping when I heard laughter instead of the tell-tale snap of a riding crop and the associated pain. I felt nothing but deadened, faded welts, the chill of the floor against my knees, and a queasiness in the pit of my stomach.

“Oh darling,” Trina cooed. “What’s the matter?”

“N-Nothing,” I stammered lamely. I pulled my wrists against the restraints, the chains clacking against the pipes and the sounds echoing throughout the basement.

“Why it almost seemed…” She ran her fingers gently down the raised welts across my chest. “…like you didn’t like me.”

“That’s not true!” I blurted out. “I love you, Trina, I do, I just-” I hated disappointing her. “…Can we maybe move out of the basement at least? It’s cold and I like your bed better,” I pleaded in a desperate attempt to have boundaries. And yet, that wasn’t what I really wanted. My skin burned, my muscles ached at the position I had been holding for what felt like hours, and I was ready to stop. I never even wanted to start it, at least not tonight.

But starting here could be the first step.

“Baby, you know I can’t do that.” Trina looked concerned. “Last time, well…you know you’re a screamer, right?” She played at shyness, though I knew she had delighted in my screams at the time. “Last time we were playing, the neighbors heard, and that was a whole thing…and you’ve only just barely made up for it.” Her eyes looked like they were shimmering with tears.

The queasiness again. I looked back down. “…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She pet my hair soothingly. “That’s why we’re down here.”

“I—” I swallowed a lump in my throat. Asserting boundaries. No is a complete sentence. My comfort is a priority. “I don’t want to…'play' anymore. Can we be done? A-at least tonight?” Hesitation had crept through into my voice in the last sentence, but that was the most I had said as a challenge to her in what felt like ages, and a part of me was proud.

“You what?” Trina frowned.

I grimaced from the wave of nausea that slammed into my battered body. Alarm bells went off in my brain, as if I’d made a horrible mistake, as if I’d just committed such a grievous wrong that the very core of my being shuddered in disgust.

“I just mean, I mean we’ve been doing this for a while, and aren’t you tired? We could both take a break!” I desperately recanted, anything to get rid of that feeling.

She stood there, frowning at me, my physical discomfort growing exponentially, my body attempting to curl inwards in agony, if only my arms hadn’t been tied to the pipes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I started mumbling, tears wetting my cheeks. “I won’t do it again.” Shame and humiliation and a rush of chemical pleasure flooded my veins, my body sinking into a sigh of relief, the pleasurable throbbing of my body. Fuck.

“That’s a good girl.” Her face broke out into a wide smile. “I’m so glad you understand. You know, I hate being mad at you. And it’s not right for a relationship to just be one-sided. Fighting is healthy for relationships. I want you to be able to challenge me on things, and then when you’re done and we both come to a solution, I want it to feel good for you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes,” I whimpered, my toes curled and fists balled up trying to bear the pleasure that threatened to overwhelm me.

“Aw baby, it’s okay!” Her sickly-sweet voice dug its claws into me, comforted the inner turmoil in my mind. “Just relax, okay? I know you’re so good at doing that for me. Doesn’t it feel better to just, drop it? To relax?”

“Yeeesss…” It came from the back of my throat in one long sigh, like I was relieving my stress and losing a part of myself with every deep breath. It came from the back of my throat like all the other times I’d said yes to her, like all the times I agreed, all the times I relented…

“What’s this?” She swatted at my crotch with the crop lightly, the fabric of my underwear sticking to my skin. “Are you getting turned on by this?” She spat out with a sneer.

…Like all the times I came.

My ears burned. “I—”

“Sweetie, sweetie.” Trina’s voice softened again. “It’s okay, to like the things that you like. No one can judge you here, okay?” She hugged me gently as I leaned my tired body against her legs.

“But, out there…those neighbors,” she whispered, saddened. “Who knows what they’d tell people if they knew what you did? What you were into? What got you so fucking wet?” She ripped the thin, flimsy fabric from me, the coolness of the air on my slick skin a stark contrast to how feverish my head felt. “It’d be bad, right?” I nodded against her absentmindedly.

“Then we can’t tell anyone, right?” She knelt and met me at eye-level, face to face. “We can never tell anyone about your deepest desires? Your shames?”

“No…” I sighed, a part of my soul fading away with my breath.

“It’s better not to tell anyone about what goes on in this household really, people can be so nosy.” She rolled her eyes with a grin.

“Yes…” My body felt heavier than it’d ever been, my eyes threatening to close.

“Good.” For a brief second her eyes softened, a genuine, small smile on her face. Those were the fleeting moments I lived for. I knew she was a good person who just played at being harsh. Because I was asking for it. Because I deserved it. Because she loved me. Right?

Her eyes lit up in rapturous glee. “Well, without further ado.” She jammed the discarded panties into my mouth, her fingers uncomfortably prying my jaw open as I choked on the fabric being stuffed into the back of my throat.

“Remember, no screaming.”

---

(a short story for sleepingirl, a wicked pervert)

#short prompt #writing #hypnosis #abuse k1nk #abuse k!nk #abuse mention #don't know which to use RIP #this is where I find out that people keep censoring this kink in tags #which makes it hell for people to actually filter it out #this one wound up long for reasons #but do not expect the rest to be so long!! #also anon is not a requirement! #thanks for the prompt #posted this once before but never on my tumblr #so it’s a good time to share now

[xaeoism]

Muichiro tries to help you when you're in pain

You groaned due to the pain coming from the deep gash in your stomach. You looked down to see your clothing soaked in your blood, causing it to cling onto your skin uncomfortably.

You probably should have removed your clothing when the blood hadn't had the chance to dry up yet.

You took a deep breath in, before starting to peel off the clothing around the wound.

"Haah.. I can't.. do it.", you said to yourself as your hands tried to work as delicately as they could around the corners of the fabric. However, it was clearly a bad idea when you saw your skin get pulled up together with the fabric.

You looked up from the wall you had been laying on and sighed. Were you just going to die here, from this pathetic injury?

Suddenly, you heard some voices from around the corner. Then, two figures came into view. It was Muichiro and Shinobu. Once Muichiro saw you in your state, he hurriedly rushed to your side.

"What happened? Why are you bleeding so much?", he asked. You opened your mouth, wanting to reply but it only resulted in a violent fit of bloody coughs.

"You're in a horrible state. We'll need to stitch up that big gash at your stomach right here or I worry that your organs may spill out.", Shinobu spoke sternly, her hands digging through the medical supplies she carried for a pair of scissors, needle, and some thread.

You winced at the cold metal of the scissors coming into contact with your sensitive skin and shut your eyes. Shinobu was quick with her work, snipping off the fabric surrounding the wounded area with a high degree of accuracy.

"I'll need to peel off the dried fabric stuck onto the wound since I didn't carry any saline solution on me, please bear with the pain for a while.", she said, her eyes focusing on getting the fabric off your injury.

You yelped in pain when she tugged on a corner of the fabric.

"Wait-! Please.. Give me some time to prepare..", you spoke, watching her hands go near the piece of fabric once more.

"We don't have all day to wait, do you have a death wish?", Shinobu said, a hint of annoyance surfacing at your ridiculous request.

"No.. Just-Just give me some time to prepare myself for the pain..", you replied, your words slurring a little from the blood and spit that kept coming out from the corners of your mouth.

Muichiro held onto your hand tightly, giving you an encouraging look. He then tore some of the fabric from the sleeves of his uniform and bundled it up, before holding it out in front of you.

"Here, you can bite on this to muffle your screams. You can grab my arm as a way to deal with the pain as well.", he said, reassuring you that you can get through this.

You bit onto the bundle of fabric and held onto his arm as he moved you into a position that gave Shinobu more space to do what she had to.

"I'm removing it now."

You shut your eyes tightly when you felt her hands tug at the fabric again, bearing yourself for the pain. Shinobu peeled the fabric off, and you bit down on the gag as a burning sensation started to form at the location of the injury. Your nails dug deeply into Muichiro's arm and you were sure there were going to be red crescent marks littered on his arm later when you hear him slightly hiss in pain.

The searing pain at your stomach seemed to be burning you from the inside and you wanted nothing more than to just end everything right there and then. It also didn't help that you weren't given a break either when you suddenly felt the cold point of the needle sinking under the burning skin.

You bit onto the gag once more, the hot and cold sensation being too much for you. You grasped onto Muichiro's arm even harder. By this time, you must've broken through his skin already. You'll apologize later, if you're even still conscious by then.

When Shinobu finally finished stitching you up, you were completely spent. Your head was spinning terribly and you wanted to throw up from the amount of pain you had just endured.

Muichiro gently removed your hands that were still holding onto his arm and proceeded to remove the cloth from your mouth as well.

"It's alright, she's done with the procedure.", he spoke softly as he wiped off the blood and spit from your mouth.

You let out a sigh of relief as your eyes started to become as heavy as lead.

"Thank you, mui.", you said before you closed your eyes, giving into the exhaustion.

I'm not counting this as mui x reader since nothing about this was possibly mui x reader so no tagging I suppose.. Probably incredibly self indulgent work

[csuitebitches]

Hello~

I hope you're doing well!

May I ask you a few pieces of advice, please? Reading through your blog, I've discovered that you're Asian with Asian ancestry, and after some thoughts I've come to the conclusion you're the best person to ask. I'm Slavic woman (Eastern European) married to an Asian man (Chinese), exactly how you described, in Asia it's more a marriage between two families, meanwhile me and my husband married for love. In fact, his parents "consented" to our union, only because 1) I'm a good-looking woman 2) he was so stubborn in his feelings and argued whenever someone had something bad to say 3) I'm respectful, accommodating, and listen to my husband 4) good at cleaning, it's important to his father since he's traditional.

But sometimes, drama happens, mostly from his mother-in-law (his father's second wife), always manipulating and saying stuff as, it was better if he married a wealthy Chinese woman, someone who's good at running a business etc.

How can I stand up for myself or just manage these kinds of situations? The only solution seems to be to just take the risk, and do business, so they could finally stop finding faults. Furthermore they don't know, but I come from a wealthy family, but got disinherited by my mother for saying no to an arranged marriage.

Thank you in advance for your time, help and insight, I'm really grateful. Have a wonderful day and take care of yourself!

Hi there love. I’m sorry to read this. Asian families can truly be both a boon and a curse.

the reality is that your in laws will have an issue regardless of what you do. You could start a business, they could still have 10 horrible things to say to you. You could choose to look after your husband and your home, and they’ll still say awful things to you.

here’s what you should do in my opinion. And this advice comes straight from my mother.

my mother came from a middle class family. My father is a self made man, who made a fortune. They had an arranged marriage. My grandmother (my father’s mother) was really awful to my mother. She wouldn’t even let her touch the cutlery in the house. She had a problem with everything my mother did - with the way she raised her kids, what her career was, everything. She would bitch about my mother in front of us kids, she would say nasty things to my extended family. She told my maternal grandmother (my mum’s mum) that she was sure that if she was on her deathbed, my mother would never care for her. Maternal grandmother was SHOCKED and snapped and told her that her daughter was raised with better values.

my grandfather on the other hand, loves loves loves my mother, as though she was his own daughter. Praises her everywhere he goes. But that’s beside the point.

here’s what my mother learned.

She cannot control her mother in law. MIL is stubborn, ruthless, cunning. It all boils down to one thing - insecurity. Insecurity of never being good enough, smart enough, never was able to control my father (he left home because issues with her), and my father gave my mother the attention she deserved.

MIL was very possessive of my father. Asian Mums 90% of the time have a weird incest relationship with their sons. They cannot let their sons be happy with anyone. Your husband seems like a great guy, standing up for his wife. The support may not heal your hurt, but I’m sure it does a lot of good by having him on your side.

regardless of what she did, she knew she would be criticised anyway. So she did what she liked. She was a stay at home mom till I went to school, then she got two masters degrees, got herself involved in a business, has her own clients, has her own name. Even when she became successful, MIL still bitched about her. But you know what else happened? People began coming up to my grandparents and telling them what a wonderful person my mother is. MIL obviously couldn’t bear the criticism but FIL loved it and cherished her even more. She won her FIL’s respect. To this day he sings her praises even to me.

some fights are not worth it. MIL would sometimes antagonise her over small things, just to provoke her. My mother would simply stay calm. Eventually even the extended family realised that my mother had gone through a lot.

she remained emotionally detached with MIL, but she took care of her when she had cancer. She looked after her, proving MIL’s words (“she’ll never take care of me on my deathbed) absolutely wrong. And she did that out of kindness. She did that because SHE was a nice person, not because MIL deserved it.

do what your heart wants to do. The more you live life to gain approval from someone else - someone who may never give it to you - your life will be miserable. The only way to fight these horrible MILs is by standing up straight, being decisive, being able to say no and hold your ground. She has to respect you as her DIL, regardless of what you do. You will not earn her respect by trying to be someone you’re not.

If your FIL is more accepting towards than her - Build a relationship with the FIL. Forget about the MIL, she’s going to be jealous and awful, and I highly doubt such women ever change. Half the time, they behave in this way because that’s how THEIR MIL’s treated them. MIL’s MIL treated her awfully as well - the former was scared shitless of the latter. She repeated the same pattern with my mother, but my mum was too strong to let MIL bring her down.

If you want to be on good terms with your in laws, focus on the father. Be the daughter he never had (even if he has daughters). But do it because you WANT to, not because you HAVE to.

Such women are simply insecure. Insecure to a point where they must hurt other women because it genuinely gives them joy. Do not let her words affect you whatsoever. And do not live your life by her terms. Focus on being a good person to yourself and your husband.

#Q/a #asian marriages

[thelittlepalmtree]

Hey y'all, expecting Jewish folks to speak out against Israeli occupation has the same energy as expecting Arab folks to condemn 9/11. Let me give you some examples of when it is and isn't appropriate:

Antony Blinken: US Secretary of state. Has Jewish ancestors. He is one of the main people in our government in charge of policy. Not only should he be asked about the conflict he is a person who can make change and has power. He is also expected to have a competent knowledge of the situation, history, and current data. He should be questioned and criticized. However, there should not be the underlying assumption of Zionism due to his heritage. He has actually been more supportive of Human rights in Gaza than Biden has.

Gal Gadot: Gal Gadot served in the IDF and currently lives in Israel. She has posted multiple times in support of Israeli occupation. Her Instagram is currently chock full of pro-Israel posts. It is completely fair to question her stance on the Palestinian lives lost because she is actively discussing this conflict. Again, though, her status as Jewish should not mean that she is evil or inhuman. She should be evaluated on her statements not her heritage.

Natalie Portman: Made the movie Freezone about the issues between Israel and Palestine in a way that was very humanizing to both groups. She has an Israeli father and has spoken to the UN about the need for a peaceful solution. She supported Israel after the October 7 attacks but has been noticably silent since them. It is appropriate to question this silence and even criticize it, but it's not fair to paint her as a zionist who has never cared for Palestinians when she has been critical of Israel in the past.

Sarah J Maas: Jewish. Visited Israel once. Literally has not spoken about her experience in years. Has never made any comments about the occupation or Israeli policy. To be honest, probably doesn't know anything about it. There's absolutely no reason why anyone should go to her for any political opinion she is deeply unqualified to make any kind of statement. You shouldn't be asking her for one.

Taylor Swift: Not Jewish. Knows nothing about this. Is just rich and famous. We have no reason to believe she has any understanding of this conflict. Not only should she not be asked for a statement, it would be deeply irresponsible for her to give one as she is neither a stakeholder in the area nor an expert in its history.

Now if you're full of rage because you read this and you think you're somehow saving Palestinian lives by commenting on all of Taylor Swift's Instagram posts, let me give you another ego hit. I'm Egyptian. I am not a direct stakeholder, but obviously, Egypt has a long history with this conflict and currently borders Gaza. Not only that, the US government essentially provides money to Egyptian dictators that they use to imprison public critics in exchange for Israeli security. My family members in Egypt run the risk of imprisonment if they speak ill of the government and the US government facilitates this in order to protect Israel's apartheid state. So I do not make this post because I believe Israel to be good. I think that when we resort to antisemitism, we delegitimize our cause.

I understand that you are angry. I understand that it feels like Israel gets away with so much. That doesn't mean antisemitism is okay. Racism is still bad when it's in service of what you think is a just cause. Dehumanization is still bad when it's being done against people who dehumanize others. It is easy to blame random people you know who actually have zero power here. It is hard to accept the people who have the most power (Joe Biden and Benjamin Netanyahu) are unreachable because of their own horrible convictions. It is hard to accept we (Americans) have all accepted and contributed to a system in which the majority of us are powerless. It is hard to accept your own powerlessness. But that is what you must do.

You cannot do anything but bear witness.

#palestine #israel #free gaza #taylor swift #sarah j maas #natalie portman #gal gadot #antony blinken

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Fluffy fluff. Smthg very heart warming, with a lot of mutual respect and forehead kisses and hugs and goosebumps and domestic physical intimacy. Would be great if its gender neutral.

When the villain came home, they found the hero in bed already. They didn’t sleep but they weren’t quite there either. A few times this had happened before: the hero didn’t speak, they didn’t eat, they didn’t take care of themselves.

The first time the villain had freaked out. They thought their lover was going to leave them but it passed. The second time it happened, the villain tried clumsily to help them.

Now, they felt a weak confidence that could help them fix this. It wasn’t much but it was there. They leaned against the doorframe, their head even resting against it.

“Sweetheart?” Their voice was soft and the hero looked up, their eyes red, their hair a mess. “Have you eaten today?”

The hero shook their head and let themselves fall back into bed again.

“There are some leftovers in the fridge, I could warm them up for you?”

No answer.

Whatever had happened, the villain didn’t want to let their hero deal with this alone. The easiest way would be kidnapping and torturing the person responsible for this. But they also knew this was rather uncivilised and the hero wouldn’t approve.

What a pity.

They took another look at their lover, how their perfect body sank into the blankets, how their hair was falling into their eyes…they were so perfect it made the villain breathless at times. It was just one of those days, they supposed.

Once they were in the kitchen, they fished the leftovers out of the fridge and filled a glass with water. Maybe they should order the hero’s favourite food? Bake a cake? Go out and get them flowers? The villain wanted to give them as much reassurance as possible but they were still a bit unsure if the hero preferred presents over words.

While their mind raced, searching for a solution, for a reason, they didn’t really hear how the hero came scuffing into the room. They only fully realised it when the hero was hugging them from behind and buried their head in the villain’s neck.

“Oh, my love…” the villain whispered, putting a hand on their lover’s wrist. “What is it?”

They turned around to look at their weary lover. They had a few scratches on their face and as always, the villain wanted to nurse them. But they also knew the hero wanted be independent.

“I’m okay,” they whispered.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me. I just want you to know that I’m here without judging you and I will listen no matter what,” the villain said, caressing their cheek.

The hero didn’t meet their eyes.

“I suck at being a hero,” they mumbled.

“You made your greatest enemy fall in love with you. I suppose there’s something you did undeniably right.”

“I can’t save everyone.” The hero’s eyes began to water. “I was on patrol today and there was a robbery and someone got shot…I’m not used to not saving people. But my team was inexperienced and new and they were so bad and it’s my fault, I was responsible and I should’ve known that they weren’t ready, I should’ve—”

“Sweetheart,” the villain said softly.

“I’m not used to losing, I’m not used to making sacrifices. Everything goes perfectly when I’m in charge. It usually does, it’s like working out, it’s not like a job…”

The villain took their hand.

“My love,” they said, “you’ve saved so many people already. I know you can’t give life a value and compare it to others. But without you the city would be ashes.”

“I don’t know…” the hero said. They were close to crying again and the villain couldn’t bear it. They kissed their hero gently on the mouth.

“You were able to forgive me for the horrible things I’ve done. You have to forgive yourself too or these things will haunt you forever.”

And with time and the villain’s help, the hero learnt to forgive themselves.

#be my be myyyy baby #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #fluff

[defining-trans]

Ask a Transgender Person Anything 🏳️‍⚧️

I'm tired of watching the same heated conversations over and over again where nothing gets solved. This blog is the solution I've come up with.

Ask me any question YOU have about being transgender.

I don’t care if it’s phrased “problematically”, insensitive or intentionally invasive, I will do my best to answer. However, you may not like the answer I give you.

Whether you're just trying to learn more about us, are too scared to ask a trans person you know for fear of ridicule, or genuinely believe people like me are deluding ourselves into identifying the way that we do and that we need to be "taught better"/"shown the truth", you have full permission to ask me, a trans person, whatever the hell you want.

Ground Rules:

I will respond only to asks and anonymous messages sent directly to my inbox. Any questions directed at me via comments, reblogs or tags on my posts are fair game for me to ignore.

If your question is indeed rude, or would most likely be perceived as such by a trans person you know IRL, I'll explain why and, if possible, give you an example of a better way to ask it.

If your question is about queer and/or trans discourse in general, I will answer it to the best of my ability. If it's about my personal stances on said discourse, I may or may not answer it. That will depend on whether or not I feel like it.

Regardless of how I feel about the questions I’m being asked, I will not resort to ad hominem attacks. (Your background and personal beliefs have no bearing on whether or not I’m capable of answering the question you’ve asked, therefore the most I will do is discuss how said potential background/belief may have prompted you to ask it.)

The only assumption I will make about you is that you want me to answer your question. I believe this to be a fair assumption, considering you will have to go out of your way to send me your question.

Leading questions (ones intended to coerce a specific predetermined answer out of the party being asked) and sealioning (feigned ignorance with the intention of wearing one down through the emotional labor of continually explaining one’s point of view) will be treated differently than genuine questions—I will first point out what about them I find objectionable, then dissect the question. If any part of the question is salvageable or could be a genuine question in another context, I will also attempt to give a genuine answer.

I am doing this purely out of personal interest. There is no secret agenda, I will not attempt to “convert” you to my “side” of things. I’m just curious about what questions people actually want to ask a trans person but are too shy or afraid of being judged to ask someone they know.

I will answer your questions based on my broader knowledge and my own personal experiences. Neither of these things are reflective of the trans experience as a whole and should not be interpreted as such. The only trans person whom I speak for is myself.

Insults are not questions. Words such as "anything other than male or female is a mental illness" and slur-flinging and so on - by themselves - are not questions, so I refuse to entertain them. Additionally, sarcastic questions like "so were you dropped on your head as an infant or are you just stupid by choice?" will be ignored.

We are not entitled to personal information about each other. You can ask me about stuff aside from being trans (i.e. completely unrelated political beliefs), but the focus of this blog is trans stuff, so I may decline to answer any off topic questions.

I'll get to your question when I get to your question. If you start sending me entitled or guilt-tripping nonsense, it will make me less inclined to answer your question. (Not all of us have the luxury of enough free time to entertain the questions of strangers on the internet who may or may not believe we deserve to die horrible deaths, and those of us that have that and the stomach to do it won't be up for it 24/7.)

It's fine to reblog and comment on my posts even if you don't have questions for me. In fact, that would help me reach more people who might have questions about transness that I can help answer.

I'm undecided as to whether or not I'd like to open my direct messages to people looking for a civil debate or more private atmosphere. Please respect my boundaries and do not DM me with questions or arguments at this time.

#ask a trans person #transphobia #transgender #trans discourse #ask a nonbinary person #queer discourse #queer issues #trans issues #cissexism #exorsexism #gender theory #queer theory #trans activism #define trans #define man #define woman #define nonbinary #transmisogyny #transmisandry #transandrophobia #nbphobia #queerphobia

[gudvina]

The things I do to keep you near.

Ship: Effie Trinket/Haymitch Abernathy

Fandom: Hunger Games

Chapter 12: Taking Chances.

Can be read on AO3. <3

74th Hunger Games, part 10.

He hadn’t been in that office since the loss of his family. In Crane’s space, at the time, had been Festus Creed. He had dished out his condolences for the horrible events in such an unaffected way that, in the same tone, he might as well have talked about what he had eaten for dinner the day prior. He had felt strongly about the wooden desk, the golden accents and the rich blue of the walls. Had dreamed of it often. And yet, now, with Effie sitting beside him and Crane in front of them, it didn’t look as striking as it had back then.

He let his hand slide down and hold the leg of Effie’s chair, ready for whatever Crane had in store for them. The Gamemaker’s ominous expression did nothing but flare up his growing concern.

“Can I offer you anything?” Seneca looked at him, pouring himself a drink. He watched the golden liquid swirl inside the crystal glass and gulped, trying to ignore the thirst. He had drunk enough with Chaff already, and whatever this was required his full attention, so he shook his head and looked at Effie who did the same. Probably more for his sake, than anything else.

“Well”, Seneca started, swirling the drink some more, “I have been called just yesterday night for an urgent, and obligatory, reunion with the President himself, other Gamemakers, and the Superior Peacekeeper”. The Council, Haymitch mused. From the corner of his eye, he saw Effie’s brows furrow in confusion, and he couldn’t blame her, for he was sure the same bafflement was evident in his own face.

“I’m sorry for you, but I don’t see how that involves me or my escort”, he snorted, earning himself a glare from the Gamemaker. He was in no position to make jokes, he knew, but he couldn’t help the feeling of triumph that came with putting in his place the Capitol’s golden child.

“It involves you and Euphemia because, during said assembly, I was made aware of your tribute causing civil unrest in District Eleven. Katniss’ stunt of embellishing with flowers Rue did something for the District, and the concern is that it might do something for other District”, the man explained to them both, before turning to him with a pointed look, “Surely, you can see why this involves you and your escort, now”.

Chaff’s warning coming straight out of Seneca Crane’s mouth was enough admonition to make his humor flee, and tighten his grip on Effie’s chair.

“It wasn’t Katniss’ intention, Seneca. It couldn’t be, and I don’t like the suggestion. An obligatory assembly was an exaggerated measure”.

“I never said Katniss intended to cause civil unrest, but you do realize that was the impact. And clearly the Council didn’t think it an exaggerated measure, so I don’t know what tells you that”. Seneca’s expression darkened as he reproached Effie, rendering her to silence. Effie had always been the Capitol’s prettiest puppy, always said the right words and smiled in the right way, especially with the right people, so much that even he was surprised by the way she had readily come to the girl’s defence.

“Why are we here, then?” he asked, trying to draw Crane’s attention to him and the problem.

“Because President Snow, magnanimous as he is, tasked me with solving this… situation. I tried to find a solution, but try as I might I can’t seem to find one that will do. Since it’s your tribute we are talking about, and I so dislike having to bear this boiling potato on my own, I may as well ask you to hold it a little and maybe give me a hand”. He could read the veiled threats behind his words, and didn’t like them one bit. If this was the case not only was the girl in danger, but her family as well and he wasn’t sure the boy wouldn’t get the same treatment.

“We’re not part of the militia, Sen. I am not sure how we could be of help”, Effie said, casting Haymitch an uncertain look.

“I think he intends to use the games”, he mused out loud.

Seneca Crane nodded in his direction but turned his eyes toward Effie, sporting the same condescending smile he always did. He assumed it wasn’t a real one, as he had seen a fair share of those when he and Effie had been together.

“The Games, dear Phim, need something new, and while I could have chosen another District to supplant yours, I think I’d much prefer to solve the problem at the root”.

Our girl caused the problems, we have to solve them.

He sighed, his brain already put in motion to find a way. “I am gathering that it must give the Districts a nice distraction, something to look forward to”, he guessed.

“Yes, something that will draw their attention away, and, also important, will be believable for Capitols as well”.

“Not like it will take a fit, with the bunch of yours”, he heard himself mutter and ignored Effie’s cluck of her tongue.

Silence fell between them, but then, as he grasped tighter on the leg of Effie’s chair, he broke it.  “We could play the card of young love. It worked when Peeta revealed his feelings, I don’t see why it couldn’t work now”, he said, shrugging, and saw Seneca consider it with a face.

“Do you think it would work in the Districts?”

“Why not? All these kids are sent to butcher each other, if two won’t it will cause spectacle and a little distraction. It will be big, unheard of, that I can vouch for”, he said, and then continued, “And it won’t even be that expensive, nor will it look like you’re trying too much. I am sure you can put Katniss and Peeta together in some way, and that will do the trick”.

“And that will work on the Capitol as well, as it did during your Quarter Quell”, Seneca said, alluding to the speculation the Capitol had held onto for weeks of how jealous his girl must have been of Maysilee. It took all his strength not to scoff, and he almost missed Effie’s uncomfortable shifting.

“You have to give her, and other Districts, a reason to care as well. It can’t be just Twelve.”, Effie said, ignoring what Seneca had said.

“A reason?”

“Love is a universal feeling, but I can’t see why someone from District Two would give two damn about the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve, let alone a sponsor”, she was blunt, and, he could tell, focused on smoothing all the details Crane and he hadn’t seen yet, “You must give them, too, a distraction. And if you make it so that there will be two winners from the same District, it will draw Katniss and Peeta together, give them some time, and the willingness to fight. The time is essential, Seneca, as Peeta is injured. If you give Haymitch time to send them something, I am sure they’ll give us a real show”.

He was thankful that the one thing Effie had in common with Liviana Albus was being an excellent show-woman, one who knew her audience and how to play them well. He could have fucked her right then, but his thoughts were sobered when he realized Seneca Crane felt that way too, given the way he hung from Effie’s lips.

“Well, Phim, I didn’t have high expectations, but you two quite exceeded them. We’re going to give everyone a show, and if someone doesn’t care about two young lovers they will surely care to see their tributes home, or see their favourite District get not one, but two winners. It works. It has to work”, he said, ecstatic with their suggestions. He wondered how much pressure had been put on him, given how eager he looked.

Effie smiled, but otherwise didn’t say anything. Haymitch suspected she wanted his stamp of approval. Deep inside, he knew she wanted him to admit that, for all his making fun of her, she couldn’t be that stupid. He never would out loud, but what husband doesn’t praise his wife, when needed?

“Good job, princess” he smirked and got up from the chair.

“You are leaving already?”, the Gamemaker asked.

Haymitch raised his brows. “Is there anything else?”

“No, no, there isn’t. Thank you for the hand, and sorry for the abrupt invite”.

Effie got up, smoothing her dress with feigned nonchalance, before smiling at Seneca with the jarring Capitol grin that made up her carefully made mask. He wondered how much the man could see through it, if at all.

“Next time, not that I wish for another occasion such as this, I beg you to come look for me. No Peacekeepers. Otherwise, it’s been a perfectly nice meeting”.

“I renew my apologies, dear. Please do come see me. I know you are… busy with work, and I am as well, as you can see, but forget-me-not”, Seneca held her hand, kissing each one before releasing them, and walking the both of them to the door. He hated him, but couldn’t do or say much without ruining the shaky collaboration with the Gamemaker.

As soon as they were on their way to the elevators, and within a few feet of distance from the office, Effie took his arm but didn’t say a word. He couldn’t stay silent, though, not for too long.

“Did he really need to slobber all over your hands?”, he snarked.

“Oh, Haymitch, that’s how a man behaves in polite society. Well, maybe only kissing one hand, but he’s a friend”.

Her words, the way she had said them, made his heart sink. What the fuck did that mean? After everything Crane had said she still had the galls to consider him a friend? Maybe he wasn’t fair. Maybe. But the man was a Gamemaker, so I guess nothing was when it concerned him.

“A friend?! You call that asshole a friend?”, he whispered, but her answer came only when they were in the confines of the elevator.

“He’s my friend, and the fact that he called us proved it. He trusted me. Trusted you because of me. Yes, he isn’t behaving in the best way by making decisions for me, and I do not agree with his way, which is why I am also decided to win, but he’s a friend nonetheless.”

“Your friend there was desperate”, he sneered, “almost as much as he is to get back in your pants”.

“I’d like you to refrain from saying such things. Firstly, because I broke up with him years ago, and secondly, because not everyone seeks me only for sex, even though I understand it’s hard for you to believe it”, she hissed, a flash of hurt passing in her face but quickly hidden by her mask.

He knew he should have dropped it, but for some reason, her sudden defence of Crane had gotten under his skin.

“You keep telling yourself that”, he snorted, and regretted it almost instantly when she looked at him in the same way she had had that day when, in the 70th edition, he had snapped at her in front of Tulsia and Tallia.

He would have said something, but when the elevator stopped at the Sponsors’ Lounge she got out without a word, walking straight to where Portia was sitting, never once looking back. Before the doors closed, Finnick got in and looked at him questioningly.

“Crane wanted to talk about Eleven’s problem”, it wasn’t the answer to his question, but it was an answer nonetheless.

“That’s it? Okay. And why did Effie get out of the elevator upset?”.

“Why the fuck don’t you ever mind your business, kid?”, he asked, irritated by the boy’s meddling in his and Effie’s life.

“Was Crane mean to her?”

“No, he was posilutely amiable”, he mocked.

“Then you were. I knew it. What did you say?”.

“Why don’t you ask her, since you two are so close?”, he glared, and he suspected that he had been a little too direct, because he saw the boy’s expression sober a little.

“Aight, aight, I guess it’s time to visit Blight”, the boy quipped, seeing they were approaching Seven’s floor, “Whatever you have said, say sorry, give her a gift, and drink a little less than usual. She will love it”.

“I will give her shit, get the fuck out of here” he barked.

Finnick snickered and slipped out of the doors. “Good luck, my friend. Do not go gentle into that good night”. The doors closed just in time for him to see Blight look at them with puzzlement. He was alone, at last, but that gnawing feeling that had haunted him just four years ago had returned, their marriage the only consolation, and hope, that she wouldn’t flee again.

If he had struggled to handle it during that edition, he knew that, now that she was his wife, it would be unbearable.

***

It had been a few hours since she had gotten out of that elevator. She and Portia had sipped on their drinks in relative silence, apart from a little idle talk about inconsequential things that, she figured, Portia only stood for her sake. It helped her steam the anger a little but did nothing to drive away the pain.

They had then been joined by Finnick, Blight, Cashmere and, surprisingly, Faustina, who had come all the way to inquire after her well-being. They didn’t ask her much more than appropriate, and she answered in kind, trying to hint as little as possible at the nature of her meeting with Seneca. Finnick had a knowing look, and she suspected he had seen her storm out of the elevator because he acted towards her in the way he did anytime she fought with Haymitch. Delicate, but with an air of knowing this will end just like all the other times.

She hated that he wasn’t that wrong, for, when she saw the hour, she parted from everyone. Portia and Cinna were going to do the nights that day, so she left her to her friends. She reminded them to call her if anything important happened, before retracing her steps towards the elevator.

When she stepped onto Twelve’s floor the lights were on, and she saw Haymitch sit on the armchair. He was snoring softly, and when she took a turn about the room to take a better look at him, she saw a flower resting between his callous fingers, while his other hand held a glass.

She tried to extricate the glass from his hand, being careful not to wake him, but her attempts were vain. His eyes shot open, before softening as soon as he could tell it was her.

“How much did you have to drink?”, she asked, trying to look away. Whenever he looked at her that way it did things to her, and now that she was hurt she felt it hurt her even more. Keep telling yourself that. She had always known it was so, hadn’t she? Why did it hurt, why did it pain her so much? She couldn’t explain it, yet it was there.

“Too much”, he slurred, “I wanted to listen to the boy, but, after a while, I thought you were gone and maybe were coming back tomorrow. I shouldn’t have drunk. Now I have only a sorry and the gift”. He wasn’t making much sense, and she couldn’t understand a lot of it, but she sensed he wanted to say sorry and use the flower as a token. It wasn’t the best apology, but he had gotten the flower right: a light pink tulip. He had never given her a flower, or anything, and she felt an onrush of sweetness.

For all his rough exterior, and his cutting words, he had a way to make her heart beat that was unique to him.

“Is this for me?” she asked softly, looking at the tulip.

“Yes. It’s not the best, I know. I didn’t know what flower you liked so I went with this one, it looked pretty enough”, he stroked her face, before continuing, “I am sorry, I was… I was upset and nervous, and then you defended that asshole and-“

“Uh-uh, I wasn’t trying to defend him, I just said he is my friend. Yes, he is making a mistake, and is hurting us, me, in the process, but he could have asked for another District and our kids would have been done for. He plays fair, where he can”, Effie explained, and Haymitch understood what she had left unsaid. That she was grateful he was her friend, and he should be too, given the way that had given them a chance to bring not one, but two of their children. It was insane that, despite her presence in the meeting, she held hope for that.

“Anyways, I should have never said that”, he muttered.

“No, you shouldn’t have”.

“Not only because I am not one to speak when it comes to getting into your pants, but because… yeah, you’re more than that. For a lot of people, too”, he said.

You’re more than that to me. For a lot of people, too.

She felt her heart skip a bit, and the onslaught of feelings rushing now through her whole body. She had never dared to hope, and he hadn’t said that exactly, but she knew him well. It was the closest thing to an admission, and a declaration, that she was going to get, and the flower… the flower was just the cherry on top.

They had always hidden behind the casual nature of their relationship, but if there was a chance he also thought of them as more... Her eyes welled with tears as she took the tulip from him and softly kissed him, not wanting to say anything that would make him flee.

“Thank you. I like the flower and accept the apology. It’s dreadfully late, isn’t it?”, she smiled, trying to contain her excitement.

“Is it?”, he smirked, his hand ghosting over her face. It was so easy to revert to their banter, almost like coming home after a hard day of work. Rewarding, and yet so comfortable like little else could ever be.

“Yes. Let’s go to bed”. She walked away and heard him follow right after. Her smile turned into a wide grin.

#hayffie #haymitch x effie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #the hunger games #thg series #thg fanfiction #<3

[hussyknee]

Does reading a lot of books "count" if they're all only popular light-read novels? As opposed to classics and literary fiction and whatever 600-page in-betweens are called. I can tear through all of Cat Sebastian (who's either hit or very, very miss for me) before I can pick up, like, Sharon Kay Penman, even though they're both popular historical novellists, because SKP's are about real historical figures and wars where a lot of horrible things happen to people. So of course my brain is convinced that SKP's novels "count" more than CS's, because it only counts if you have to struggle through an emotional morrass that makes you feel glad to live in climate collapse because at least nobody is sticking people's heads on spikes anymore.

This is also why I can only stand well back from literary fiction and poke it with a stick like I'm waiting for rats and snakes to jump out because, afaik, most of them are about people being sad and ruminating on the Human Condition. I don't get why I have to read about that, given I'm a sad person who's trapped in the Human Condition.

(I sometimes think the people that write these things are either so removed from the unwashed masses that they can look at them like a science experiment or five inches from offing themselves at all times. Presumably some of them are those mythical Normal People who have somehow emerged from the existential soup without any mental illnesses. Idk. How tf do you write fiction about real human pain that isn't even self-indulgent whump fic? I'm still trying to recover from having read Ninety-One Whiskey four years ago.)

You'd think the solution would be to just read some escapist fantasy, except the serious non-YA adjacent stuff that get submitted for Hugo awards (or Netflix and HBO adapations that shit all over the source material) are also about Bad Things Happening To People. I suppose this is better than white Christian manifest destiny bullshit like Lord of the Rings* where Bad Things Only Happened to Boromir, whose fans are the kind of people who think Gone With The Wind is a literary classic instead of Ku Klux Klan propaganda or people like me who are pathologically obsessed with conservative white bullshit**. And yet have I ever picked up NK Jemisin, who seems to be for all intents and purposes the queen of decolonial high fantasy? Of course not. Better to bear that media where Bad Things Only Happen To Imbibers Of This Racist Bullshit, than fly to others Where Bad Things Happen To The Characters that we know not of***.

It's really fucking hard to be extremely mentally ill and have OCD that won't let you DNF stuff that bores and distresses you and makes you think anything that lets you have safe, happy fun is just easy mode riffraff of no nutritional value.

***Still trying to figure out where Guy Gavriel Kay fits in. Without, you know, just reading the damn books.

**Tbh the reason conservative white bs is so appealing is because conservatives genuinely believe in the Just World theory. They rationalize the chaos of reality by assuming that the world used to make sense and work the way it should until Bad People happened to it, and it can be restored to its rightful glory if we can just root out all the shit that upended the old order. That's fascism in a nutshell and why its so deeply seductive even to people suffering under it.

*No, I'm not going to explain why LoTR is smuggling white supremacy. Y'all care more about defending the intentions of white men living in the fading era of the British empire than understanding how they could possibly have internalised white Christian supremacy that informs their writings about Fair, Enlightened Folk of the West yearning for a mythical past where they reigned supreme. Figure it out.

#actually ocd #hyperempathy #reading #books #high fantasy #fantasy #historical fiction #decolonization #knee of huss