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#I want children to grow up in a better world

professor-beaker · 2 days

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(Warning: very long rant about growing up religious and aroace. Might delete this in an hour. Idk)

Dear mom and dad,

Do you remember when i was 14, and had my first kiss? You probably dont- for you, it was just another sunday. He was one of my only church friends, and he pulled me, alone, into one of the music rooms after sacrament meeting. You encouraged me to go with him, because you could read the signs i couldnt. He was very polite, but when we kissed and he grabbed my hand on the way out, it felt more wrong than anything id experienced before. I ran back to you, crying, and you walked me through rejecting him. You basically told me that i was just too young, that it would get better, but it certainly didnt feel that way at the time. Every time youve reminisced on it since, it was only to laugh at my expense. At my naievety.

I tried to take your words to heart. I tried to listen each time our church would preach about how essential families were and each time you told me how happy you two were. It didnt work.

Do you remember when i was 15, and i told you, mom, that adopting sounded way better than having biological kids? You got so offended, and i had no idea why. I still dont. You told me it was a natural part of life, that we were supposed to bring children into this world. I tried to explain my reasoning- why would i want my own children when there are those who are suffering on their own? When the thought of procreation made me sick?- but you dismissed it. It was just another day.

Do you remember the brief period when i was 15, when i dated a girl? I assume you dont, because you never found out. I lived in constant fear, because the comments you would make at the dinner table described lgbtq+ as an affront to God, as unnatural. I had thought that men were the problem, and she was my first real partner. But nothing changed, it still felt wrong, and we fell back into only being friends. I hadnt told you about that until today, because i knew exactly what youd say about it. I knew exactly what youd say about me.

Do you remember the boy i met when i was 16? The one with the curly hair and the kind smile. You were always pushing me toward him, because you saw how he looked at me (i saw, too- and i didnt like it). He took me to homecoming, and prom, and danced too close to me for my liking. You always asked if we were a thing yet- and when i said no, you smiled knowingly. I hated that smile. And you smiled that smile for years.

I reconnected with him when i was home over winter break. We hung out once, i told him my sexuality, and he barely reacted. When you asked how it went, i told you i rejected him romantically, but we were still friends. Do you remember what you said, mom? You said, "so you broke his heart and left." I cried that night.

Do you remember when you found my aroace pins a month ago? Im at college in a different state- a religious college you wanted me to go to- and you still made it your priority to berate me for it. I dont know if you could tell how angry i was over the phone, but when you said "asexual and things are just looking for attention", it broke my heart.

Because i figured it out when i was 17. Because it took me two years to finally accept it in a religion that very strongly emphasized the family unit. Because i finally felt accepted, i felt heard, i wasnt being dismissed at every corner. Because i had something to explain why i was like this.

Because i finally didnt feel broken.

I never doubted that you loved me- not once, ever, in my life. Not until you started degrading me for something i couldnt control. Not until you started pressuring me to date people i would much rather be friends with. If youre not going to love all of me, then do you even love me at all?

I hope you know that i still love you, despite everything. But i hate the way you talk to me now, the way you talk to others about me. And i hope that one day, you, too, will realize that im not broken, or affronting God, or unnatural. I hope you realize that im still your child.

I hope you realize im still human.

#aroace #aromantic #asexual #arospec #aro problems #aro #ace #lgbtq community #lgbtqia #lgbt pride #religion #literally just a rant #i am not expecting notes on this at all

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cilil · 2 days

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Brief summary of what I think of Elven ages/what I use as a basis in my writing and headcanons

@eunoiaastralwings kindly asked me to share my thoughts which I'll do in my own post since it felt impolite to place it underneath hers :)

When it comes to Elves aging and the like I usually go off of what's written in Laws and Customs of the Elder (LaCE), though please keep in mind that I don't treat LaCE as gospel, not just because it's debatable how "canon" the writings in Morgoth's Ring and other similar sources are, but also because there are elements in it that I don't like too much.

LaCE states that Elven children grow more swiftly in mind compared to mortal children, so that they learn to speak within a year or so and with their "will" also master their bodies faster, as seen with things like walking or dancing that they also learn this early.

However, they take more time to fully grow in body; by the time a human is fully grown, an Elf is stated to physically resemble a 7-year-old. Elves are fully grown at around 50, though it can take up to 100. I see this age range as comparable to 18-25 in humans. It's also around that time that Fëanor and Nerdanel married, so they were young, but not kids anymore. It was also fairly common for Elves to marry "in their youth".

From that point on, Elves do age in a way - despite their immortality - but it's a verrrry slow process. There are three cycles of life that can be loosely defined as childhood & adolescence, adulthood and, for lack of a better term, old age. This third cycle is only for extremely old Elves like Círdan and with the exception of Mahtan also the only time they can grow beards. This "aging process" of Elves is not temporally fixed and correlates more with "world-weariness" brought on by grief than any physical aging (Elves do not age physically after reaching maturity) or passage of time; once again Círdan and especially Gwindor serve as examples.

I get the impression that, due to the rarity of bearded Elves, there aren't many that reached this third cycle, at least not that we see. So in my eyes an Elf can be several thousand years old and still be comparable to middle-aged and even young human adults, depending on how much grief they experienced or how sheltered they were. Lúthien for example was over 3000 years old at the time of her first death, but lived the vast majority of her life in Doriath where she was well taken care of and protected by her mother's power. Her Elven aging may also have been even slower to due her Maiarin heritage (also if anyone wants to hear my thoughts and headcanons on Ainurin aging, let me know).

So yeah, these are my thoughts and what I make of the information I've encountered. I also just want to say that while I do like joking about the age gaps in Elf/human or even Ainu/human pairings, I don't think we can go by numbers only if immortals are involved. As always, everyone has their own level of comfort with shipping dynamics and that is alright :)

#elves #headcanons #thoughts #silmarillion #elven ages #looking into this explains also so much about valinor and some deeper and possibly sadder truths #i could/should make a post about that too

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painterofhorizons · 1 year

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Was at a bookstore today and saw a probably otherwise great book for kids that was titled with "boys club" and "for boys" so I start complaining to my companion about how the unnecessarily gendered title already ruins the otherwise maybe great book to me (I was looking at it for my niece and nephew) and an employer hears me complaining and comes over to ask what's wrong and I tell him what bothers me and how of course that's no issue of the bookstore but of the company making the book but how it's just not necessary to gender this book when you can simply make it an "adventure for kids" book instead of an "adventure for boys" book. And I really appreciate that the employer took time to discuss the matter with us but goodness it is so frustrating.

So I get the whole capitalist "gender marketing sells better" argument and if he had simply let it there I could have probably let it there too. Like I don't like it but I understand that the small store needs to make profit to survive. And the (bullshit) topic of (bullshit) gender marketing is a whole different one and doesn't even need to be addressed here rn.

He even suggested that I as a customer should write that to the company making the book and tell them and how that has more weigth than when the bookstores complain. So that part was even helpful.

But then as the discussion went on he completely started to argue from a biological perspective. That the matter that boys prefer cars as toys and specific activities and girls prefer dolls and other activities was first and foremost a matter of genes.

I wanted to drop to the floor and start to throw a tantrum.

While I am aware of the studies that show that genetic stuff (sorry for not having the correct terms at hand rn, tired non native English speaker at my end) has SOME influence (or can have) on preferences, the much bigger and more definitive part is goddamn socialization and culture and adults. Like, it has REASONS why boys go to this book in the store and girls go to others, and it. Is. Not. Genes. It is not biology. It is not "that's how boys are, I can tell because I see them buy this book and ignore that other book all day long" yes dear sir but have you ever wondered WHY boys go to this book instead of that one. Have you ever wondered about what and whom imprints on children. Have you ever wondered about-

I kept asking him about it and argue with socialization and he kept repeating "no but I know because I see children I read as boys come in and take this book and not that one every day and it's all genes" and aaaaaaaaaaaaaah-

Oh dear cheesecake I aged within those xx minutes of conversation. And really, I appreciate that he took time to have it, but for everything good in this world people like him are not part of the change this world (and the kids!) need to see.

It's not genes that make children prefer this or that book. It's marketing. It's society. It's parents and other folks living with the kids making some activities more attractive to them than others for reasons that are archaic.

I really want to cry.

#Listen I deal with gender equality on my job already #Having to have to the same discussions in book stores is really depressing #Reminds me of that time I worked at a bookstore #And the boss was 'here's the ladies section full of romance'#'and here's the male's section'#And I was like excuse me sir but what the fuck #I really want to cry #I want children to grow up in a better world #One without stupid damn fuck gender marketing #Just to begin with

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jasontoddiefor · 8 months

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Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?

Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.

I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.

Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.

There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.

And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.

And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.

I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.

Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.

#writing #fandom #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own

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sweet-as-an-angel · 3 months

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how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival.

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two.

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

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eelhound · 6 months

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"I think Homer outwits most writers who have written on the War [fantasy archetype], by not taking sides.

The Trojan war is not and you cannot make it be the War of Good vs. Evil. It’s just a war, a wasteful, useless, needless, stupid, protracted, cruel mess full of individual acts of courage, cowardice, nobility, betrayal, limb-hacking-off, and disembowelment. Homer was a Greek and might have been partial to the Greek side, but he had a sense of justice or balance that seems characteristically Greek — maybe his people learned a good deal of it from him? His impartiality is far from dispassionate; the story is a torrent of passionate actions, generous, despicable, magnificent, trivial. But it is unprejudiced. It isn’t Satan vs. Angels. It isn’t Holy Warriors vs. Infidels. It isn’t hobbits vs. orcs. It’s just people vs. people.

Of course you can take sides, and almost everybody does. I try not to, but it’s no use; I just like the Trojans better than the Greeks. But Homer truly doesn’t take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted.

Whether war itself can rise to tragedy, can enlarge and exalt the soul, I leave to those who have been more immediately part of a war than I have. I think some believe that it can, and might say that the opportunity for heroism and tragedy justifies war. I don’t know; all I know is what a poem about a war can do. In any case, war is something human beings do and show no signs of stopping doing, and so it may be less important to condemn it or to justify it than to be able to perceive it as tragic.

But once you take sides, you have lost that ability.

Is it our dominant religion that makes us want war to be between the good guys and the bad guys?

In the War of Good vs. Evil there can be divine or supernal justice but not human tragedy. It is by definition, technically, comic (as in The Divine Comedy): the good guys win. It has a happy ending. If the bad guys beat the good guys, unhappy ending, that’s mere reversal, flip side of the same coin. The author is not impartial. Dystopia is not tragedy.

Milton, a Christian, had to take sides, and couldn’t avoid comedy. He could approach tragedy only by making Evil, in the person of Lucifer, grand, heroic, and even sympathetic — which is faking it. He faked it very well.

Maybe it’s not only Christian habits of thought but the difficulty we all have in growing up that makes us insist justice must favor the good.

After all, 'Let the best man win' doesn’t mean the good man will win. It means, 'This will be a fair fight, no prejudice, no interference — so the best fighter will win it.' If the treacherous bully fairly defeats the nice guy, the treacherous bully is declared champion. This is justice. But it’s the kind of justice that children can’t bear. They rage against it. It’s not fair!

But if children never learn to bear it, they can’t go on to learn that a victory or a defeat in battle, or in any competition other than a purely moral one (whatever that might be), has nothing to do with who is morally better.

Might does not make right — right?

Therefore right does not make might. Right?

But we want it to. 'My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.'

If we insist that in the real world the ultimate victor must be the good guy, we’ve sacrificed right to might. (That’s what History does after most wars, when it applauds the victors for their superior virtue as well as their superior firepower.) If we falsify the terms of the competition, handicapping it, so that the good guys may lose the battle but always win the war, we’ve left the real world, we’re in fantasy land — wishful thinking country.

Homer didn’t do wishful thinking.

Homer’s Achilles is a disobedient officer, a sulky, self-pitying teenager who gets his nose out of joint and won’t fight for his own side. A sign that Achilles might grow up someday, if given time, is his love for his friend Patroclus. But his big snit is over a girl he was given to rape but has to give back to his superior officer, which to me rather dims the love story. To me Achilles is not a good guy. But he is a good warrior, a great fighter — even better than the Trojan prime warrior, Hector. Hector is a good guy on any terms — kind husband, kind father, responsible on all counts — a mensch. But right does not make might. Achilles kills him.

The famous Helen plays a quite small part in The Iliad. Because I know that she’ll come through the whole war with not a hair in her blond blow-dry out of place, I see her as opportunistic, immoral, emotionally about as deep as a cookie sheet. But if I believed that the good guys win, that the reward goes to the virtuous, I’d have to see her as an innocent beauty wronged by Fate and saved by the Greeks.

And people do see her that way. Homer lets us each make our own Helen; and so she is immortal.

I don’t know if such nobility of mind (in the sense of the impartial 'noble' gases) is possible to a modern writer of fantasy. Since we have worked so hard to separate History from Fiction, our fantasies are dire warnings, or mere nightmares, or else they are wish fulfillments."

- Ursula K. Le Guin, from No Time to Spare, 2013.

#ursula k. le guin #homer #quote #quotations #the iliad #trojan war #storytelling #fantasy #fiction writing #war #conflict #tragedy #john milton #paradise lost #greek mythology

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an-apocalypse-of-magpies · 6 months

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I genuinely think it is a rite of passage for a Pokemon fan to champion a Pokemon that is unpopular, uncool, or 'weak'.

For some, it comes quickly. A child sees Gulpin and thinks it's the funniest thing ever. For some, it's trying something new. The competitive battler who just starts messing around, picks up a Pachirisu, and leads it to victory against impossible stakes. For some, it's an accident. The Nuzlocker who got way too attached to an early game friend who refused to die, and grieved for their friend and comrade when their time came. For some, it's defiance. The person who kinda likes Raichu and will defend it from the slings and arrows of all others. For some, it's just comfortably growing up and realising you don't have to justify liking something, just that it makes you happy.

It's easy to be drawn to the crowd favourites. And why not? They can be powerful fighters, cute merch, fanart-bait, they have a je ne sais quoi that draws the eye. And that's still fine! I'm not going to tell anyone they're a bad person for liking Charizard, or Mewtwo, or Gengar, or Pikachu. They're popular for a reason. But there is a kind of zen, a state of enlightenment of sorts, in finding a funky little guy who isn't very good and isn't very popular but makes you smile, and you go out of your way to find them and raise them and maybe even never evolve them, despite them being a damp squib in actual battles.

One of my favourite Pokemon ever is Swinub. Swinub is not a strong Pokemon. In fact, statistically, it's one of the weakest. Swinub has 5 weaknesses, including all 3 starter types. It doesn't learn many coverage moves, and it's abilities are not very exciting either. But I love this little piglet. It's round and soft! It digs up hot springs with its nose! You never see its eyes! I just think it's neat.

It's an important thing, I think, to find a Pokemon you like just for you. Not because it makes you better than 'the normies', but because it makes you appreciate the Pokemon you do meet, not for their battling prowess, but for how much you just want to be around them. When I see @good-pokemon-center-reviews frankly doing the lord's work in sharing people who are just so happy to have their little guys, I see starry-eyed children relishing in the wonder the Pokemon world is meant to bring. Genuine, earnest joy at a plushy Croagunk will always be more real to me that any Smogon tier chart. That guy gets it. The guy being a dick on Pokemon showdown with a team of 5 Zacians and a Mega Rayquaza for spice does not.

#pokemon #feel free to tag this with your unpopular faves #here are some to get you going #swinub #castform #spinda #mawile #sigilyph #venonat #dunsparce

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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month

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First of all your writing is amazing 🤩🤩!!!

You give so much life to your writings.

So I've been seeing a lot of snippets that have Danny claiming Dani as his child and also somehow carrying the cores to her clone siblings. And I was wondering how you would depict that. Maybe with a Dan maybe not. He could be living with Vlad or maybe he had to flee Amity and gets found on the streets by one of the bats if he's in Gotham or Alfred is the one who brings home the stray. Maybe he's Bruce's kid maybe not. He doesn't even need to be in Gotham. Maybe it lines up with Lian and he somehow saves her (I forget what happens to her).

Danny had only been in the new dimension for about thirty minutes when a terrorist attacked. He had originally traveled there with them since Clockwork promised if he relocated in a timeline so far away from Dan. He would allow Dani- de-age to five though her mental state stayed the same- and the cluster of her clone siblings' cores to live.

Clockwork claimed that Dani and the clones were destined to be corrupted, causing more devastation and death than Dan. They would expand their mercenaries' attack across dimensions and timelines, wiping out millions and millions, and so the clock ghost had enlisted Danny to destroy them.

He had gone under the condition that they would leave Dani alone, but when Danny saw the clones' cores, something in him had not been able to kill them off. Seven of them rested in a nest-like ectoplasm cave, and even though they were locked within their cores, Danny could hear their little heartbeats.

Could sense the being within, resting like a child in a mother's stomach.

It sounded a lot like an ultrasound, but he quickly found out only he could hear them, for Tucker, Sam, Jazz, and Dani had only seen glowing egg-shaped targets. He had thrown himself over them, begging them to not harm the children.

Danny didn't know where the connection came from, but there was no denying that there was one. He had bonded with the cores, and he wanted nothing more than to care for and nurture the children that were forming within.

Clockwork's deal hung heavily over his head, but after speaking to his friends and family, he decided to move far away for the children. He would be a single father to Dani and her seven siblings, worlds away from everything he knew and loved.

It is Difficult, but other parents have left their home countries to try and give their kids a better future before. He could do it, too.

Danny would even share his natural ectoplasm with the cores to help them grow like a ghost incubator. Yes, it would weaken him, but no more than any other person who was pregnant, and he would not have to deal with mood swings or food cravings!

He bid his family fair well, taking with him funds from Sam and Vlad, and had hopped over. Dani held his hand, and his core children were safely tucked into his backpack in warm towels. They had five suitcases with them, taking their essentials - such as government documents Clockwork swore would be what that world used, clothes, food, and the few techs they could carry- and had stepped through the spinning portal.

He had stopped between the two worlds, turning back only once to wave goodbye and ignore the tears rolling down his face.

His mother had called out, "Don't look back, sweetie. If you do, you'll never be able to see your children in front of you!"

Danny had turned and not looked back again. He and Dani were dropped in what looked like a large city. The first thing he wanted to do for them was find shelter, so he wiped away his tears, helped a sobbing Dani clean her face, and then marched them away, hoping to find an apparent complex with a vacant room that would be open.

They had just been passing by a sweet of houses when the bombs went off. Dani screamed, throwing herself against Dani's leg as houses started to crumble around them.

For one heart-stopping moment, he imagined the cores shattered like eggs, shimmering against the red of Dano's squished body. Danny had dropped their bags, gathering Dani in his arms and flying to the closest shelter.

He invaded a house, pressing his daughter and her siblings against his chest as more and more bombs went around the city. With a cry, he threw the strongest shield he could muster around them, encasing his ectoplasm in ice, but still, the blasts rocked the house and tore apart the building. Trust Clockwork to throw them into a war zone!

"Danny!" Dani screamed as large bits of the ceiling fell onto the shield. It caused cracks on his shield, and the ghost boy gritted his teeth to strengthen them. He had just feed a lot of his power to the core not even twenty minutes ago. He's basically tapped out. "Danny, I think there is someone in the house!"

I don't care, Danny thinks ruthlessly. You and your siblings come first.

"Danny! I think it's a kid!"

Danny's tunnel vision of keeping his kids safe suddenly shatters as he registers the screaming. It's high pitch and frightened, someone young. It's coming from upstairs, just slightly above the rocking and booms of the city.

"Danny! I can't go ghost; you need to help them!"

But his kids-

"Danny, please!" Dani screams, looking up at him with her tiny five-year-old face and the burning protective core in her eyes.

He can't say no to that. With a flick of his wrists, Danny freezes the inside of the shield, encasing it a second time until only a small hole is left. He throws the backpack carrying his other children into his eldest's arms with a command: "Protect your brothers and sisters!"

He had to force himself and reach deep within to grab hold of what little Ectoplasim he had left, but twin rings of lights formed around him, shifting him from human to ghost. He could tell that the transformation wouldn't last. His limit is likely fifty seconds, but that's all the time he needs.

He flies through the hole, going intangible to the rumble and blaze, flying through the crumbling building until he spots a little girl humbled up and crying as the ground breaks underneath her. It feels as if everything slows down as she starts to fall, descending into the flames that burst around her- a bomb had been flung to the house, and it detonated upon impact- and Danny knew that if she hit the ground, she would die.

Danny knew what he had to do.

He would be cutting his transformation time, but it was a sacrifice well made. Phantom pushed everything he had into flying as fast as he could, reaching her just before her feet hit the flames. He curled his arms around her, pressing her to his chest and encasing her small body as best he could with his ice like a hastily made baby carrier. Then, he flung himself backward towards the first floor, where his children were waiting.

His vision started going blurry, and his flying was uneven. Intangibility failed him as rocks and fire slammed into his back. The little girl he rescued was protected from most hits, but he still curved around her, ensuring that if anything went to her, it would need to go through Danny.

They slammed into the shield, his ice retreating long enough for them to phase before the entire building collapsed. Danny hit the ground hard on his side, absorbing most of the impact as best he could for the girl, who was covered in inguires.

"Danny!"

Dani's horrified scream was the last thing he heard when the world faded to black.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No. No. No. No. no

Roy ran as fast as he could through the destroyed city, racing towards where his safe house and his daughter once stood. When the reports of Prometheus first arrived, he had known that Star City was among the target places, but when they showed him the map of the areas, his heart fell through his body.

He hadn't stayed for the briefing, had ignored the outraged cries of the heroes, and he knows he just hurt his chances of being in Justice League, but none of that mattered.

Lian needed him!

He heard Dick and Jason not far behind him, likely noticing the same thing on the map, but he could barely think as he leaped over destroyed buildings and rescue crews. He almost had no idea where he was; nothing looked the same, and dust and devastation were everywhere.

Only when he spotted a lump of crumbling wood and rocks he realize this was supposed to be his street. The broken building before him was his house, and it had been wiped from the face of the earth.

"Lian!" The scream that was ripped from him was inhuman, grief-stricken even as he crumbled to his knees, trying to push the wood out of the way to reach his daughter. "Lian! Daddy's coming. Danny's here! Hold on!"

He threw everything out of his way, desperately clawing at the heavier bits, but even as he spoke, his sight was blurry from his tears. Dick and Jason quickly helped him, letting pieces and moving stones with steady but sadness clouded their faces.

He's seen those particular expressions on the Bats before. It was during their search and recovery missions.

They were looking for a corpse.

No. no. no. no. no Please not my little girl

"What is that?!" Jason called out, pointing to a large caved-in roof with a faint green glow. Roy looked up, half numb from everything, to watch Dick and Jason push the roofing off with a grunt of effort.

A dome of glowing ice appeared, and he could make out the three figures inside it. The ice cracked, shattering as Roy stumbled towards it, eyes unfocused.

Then his gaze sharpened when his daughter's tear-covered face turned to him. She held out her hands with a sob, " Daddy!"

"Lian!"

He raced towards her, stumbling over a few steps, but he had his daughter in his arms, warm and safe and, most importantly, alive.

"Daddy, the alien saved me!" Lian said, "He's hurt!"

Roy can bring himself to leave his head from his daughter's hair, but he hears Dick take control, racing over to the alien that was crumbling on the ground.

"Stay away!" a young voice said- which- was the alien a child? He peaked one of his eyes up, only glazing at the sight of a body and a little girl hunched over them in a defensive posture.

"Hey, we mean you no harm. We just want to check on your friend there," Dick tells it.

"He isn't my friend, He' s my dad!"

"That's great. Does he need medical attention?" Jason said, stepping closer only to back away as the girl bared her sharp teeth. "We just want to help."

"You promise you won't hurt him?"

"We promised. He saved someone really important to us."

"You won't hurt my siblings either?"

"If we find them, we won't-

"They're right here with Dad. They just aren't born yet." The girl cuts him off, patting her father's back and the little bag.

Shit. The alien was pregnant? And he risked not only his own health but his unborn children for Lian? Roy doesn't care which side this alien is on, how they got to Earth, or what they planned to do.

He would protect them with their lives.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Cluster of Cores Au #Danny is Dani's Dad #Also he will have seven other kids on the way #Like snake eggs #dimension travel #Danny is nineteen #He saved Lian by accident #Now the arrows love him #Part 1

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etherealspacejelly · 7 months

Text

Some of my opinions, in no particular order

golf courses should be abolished. mini golf can stay. actual golf? no. golf courses take up so much water to maintain their grass, grass which, btw, is a monoculture and bad for wildlife. the area that golf courses take up could be used for affordable housing, or natural areas left to grow with wild native plants that are better for the insect populations. but nooo, we gotta use all this land so that stuck up rich people can play the most boring game ever invented. bullshit.

the police should be abolished. i would settle for defunding but really they just need to go.

children are people, treat them as such. kids have thoughts and feelings that are just as real and valid as yours.

on a similar vein, you are allowed to not want children, but that doesn't give you a free pass to hate kids or be mean to kids. they didnt ask to be here, be kind.

there should be a maximum wage. after a certain point, there is no amount of labour you could possibly do to Earn that much money. your workers earned that money, and you are stealing it from them.

there is a difference between millionaires and billionaires. when i say eat the rich im not talking about actors and musicians, im talking about people who are directly responsible for poverty, hunger, suffering, and homelessness around the world. people who hoard obscene amounts of wealth that No One could ever hope to spend in an entire lifetime and simply watch while minimum wage workers struggle to put food on the table and the elderly freeze in their homes.

sex ed should start in primary school, at an age-appropriate level. if kids are old enough to ask questions about sex, they are old enough to learn about it in a safe environment. they should be taught correct anatomical names for body parts (penis, vulva, vagina, etc.).

there should be more research into autism and ADHD in adults, this shit doesn't just go away when you grow up.

diagnostic criteria for disabilities, disorders, and mental health conditions should be written by people who have or have had these conditions. how is someone supposed to know if they have autism, for example, if the symptoms are written from the perspective of someone who has never experienced it?? doesn't make any fucking sense.

hostile architecture should be illegal. unhoused people deserve a place to sleep. or better yet, give them houses. there are literal studies done that prove that housing people saves the government money in the long run, so why aren't we doing that? make it make sense

edit: updated to add more clarity to the golf thing. didn't explain that one well enough and left some people confused

#autism #lgbt #neurodivergent #activism #communist

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lovecanyon · 8 months

Text

Inside Y/N L/N’s Bag | Vogue | Dad!H

MASTERLIST | PATREON

“Hi Vogue I am Y/N L/N and this is what’s in my bag.”

After she introduces herself, Y/N looks down at the bag in her lap. The bag she had used every single day was a personalized Pleasing mesh bag. It was a light pink color and had a blue ribbon tied onto one of the straps.

It was clear that it meant a lot to her.

“What I carry with me everyday is this.” She says grabbing onto her bag. “You can fit anything in here. And the thing about this is, it’s technically Inez’s diaper bag.”

Y/N then grins at the memory of Harry gifting her the tote.

“This specific bag was gifted to me by my husband a while ago, right before he had launched Pleasing. My son actually loves this bag and has one of his own but smaller. He doesn't go anywhere without it.” Y/N shares.

Setting her carrier onto the wooden coffee table in front of her, the Styles woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of candy. Beau's favorite type.

Y/N remembers the night when Harry had got their son addicted to the chocolate minstrels.

“My son is obsessed with these and when I saw them I had to get them for him.” She laughs. “I spoil my kids way too much.”

The next thing Y/N pulled out was her phone. Just a plain iPhone 14 with a case that she had stolen from Harry or borrowed it, so she said. Once she taps on the screen her face lights up.

Her lock screen was a photo of a newborn Inez sleeping on Harry’s chest with Beau right beside them.

She almost shed a tear.

“This is my phone, nothing special until you look at the lock screen.” Y/N grins. She loved her family so deeply.

After placing her phone onto the table, she slides her hand into her carrier pulling out a blue bandanna. It previously belonged to Harry until Inez came around and slid the bandanna off of her father’s head.

It was truly her favorite thing in the world. You could say it was sort of like a safety blanket for her.

“Harry’s bandanna or should I say Inez’s bandanna. That girl loves this thing so much.”

A small bag of diapers, bibs, toy trucks, hair clips that she had stole back from Harry, kids sunscreen, Love on Tour’s backstage/V.I.P passes, bandaids, Harry’s headphones, her family’s passports and a camera

“Since we’re currently on tour and always traveling I always have to carry my children’s essentials.” Y/N explains looking at all the items laid out in front of her. “You can never be unprepared.”

Just five years ago her bag was filled with very different items than now. She was now a mother and had a family with a man she’s always wanted to grow old with.

Two kids later and she’s become a changed woman, a better one. She’s always valued the life she had, especially right now. Y/N couldn't have been more happy.

“Another toy!” Y/N laughs, pulling out another toy from her bag. “A mini statue of our dog Kendall who was actually named after Kendall Roy from Succession since Harry is obsessed with that show.” She holds out a miniature dog in her palm.

Following the toy, she slides out a pair of rings that clearly belonged to Harry Styles since they were his initials.

Y/N leans forward and slips the rings into her back pocket. She remembers the last time Harry had lost jewelry. It was at Coachella and he went insane looking for them.

“We are not losing any more rings.”

Comments:

harryfan2 WHEN WAS THEIR WEDDING OMFG?????

harryfan10 best mother in the world truly

harryfan4 harry’s love for succession has me rolling 😭😭

harryfan8 this. is. what. we. needed.

harryfan13 THE LOCK SCREEN

harryfan7 i cannot stress how much i love this video

harryfan5 the literal girl version of harry

harryfan9 harry is finally y/n’s husband 🧎‍♂️

harryfan11 i’m literally crying

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia

#harry styles x reader #dad!harry #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fan fic #dilf!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 month

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Sneaking Around

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You and Spencer are keeping a relationship a secret from your brother, Derek

Square Filled: "don't you touch her." (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You don’t ever want to leave this bed. It feels too damn good to want to start your day. Spencer has been up for a while just watching you sleep. He likes to see your eyes flit back and forth underneath your eyelids as he wonders what you might be dreaming about. Where do you go when you fall asleep? Based on the smile on your face, your dream is about him.

“Darling. Wake up,” Spencer whispers and nudges his nose with yours.

You scrunch up your nose in the way he loves, the way that makes you look like a squirrel, and you open your eyes slightly. He waits until he sees your bright eyes before kissing the tip of your nose. There you go again with the cute nose scrunch.

“Why did you wake me? I was having a great dream,” you sigh happily.

“Was it about me?”

“When is it never about you?”

“Tell me what it was about.”

You yawn and move away to get a better look at him.

“Well, I was on this boat and it wasn’t a cruise ship-type boat but like a sailboat. You know, the one Rossi lets us use sometimes. We were in the middle of nowhere but we didn’t feel lost or felt scared. We felt content. I decided to go swimming so I jumped into the water, but then I grew a mermaid tail and you were so jealous because I swam faster than you. You jumped into the water to see if you could grow a tail but couldn’t. So, I decided to take you to my underwater world where we had fish children and ate kelp all the time.”

“Sounds adventurous,” Spencer laughs.

“It was weird,” you giggle.

“So, while you were snoring,” you push Spencer away playfully, “I was thinking maybe we can go up to your parents’ cabin this weekend.”

“That sounds ama—wait,” you sigh, “we can’t. Derek is having his friends over. He’s taking the weekend to do whatever it is they plan on doing. The last thing I need is to be caught by him.”

It’s not that Derek doesn’t approve of your relationship with Spencer, it’s just he’s so protective over you. You have nothing to do with the police or the FBI, and he doesn’t want you getting mixed up in that life. It’s bad enough he’s in it, he doesn’t want to add another person you could possibly lose. He’s only looking out for you, and you understand that, but you fell in love with Spencer the second he introduced you two.

You two have been seeing each other behind his back, and it’s been working out so far.

“Maybe we can rent a hotel room, then. I really want to go away with you for the weekend.”

“I’d like that,” you grin.

You lean over and kiss him, but the kiss is anything but short and sweet. It’s the kind of kiss that makes your head spin. The kind of kiss that makes you want to do very bad things with him. The kind of kiss that makes you fall in love with him all over again. The kiss gets heated very quickly and he pulls you onto his lap so you can feel how hard you’re making him.

Suddenly, the front door slams open and your brother can be heard laughing downstairs.

“Reid! You here?”

“Shit,” you gasp.

You scramble off Spencer and fall off the bed toward the window. Spencer laughs at your panic just as you crawl underneath his bed. Seconds later, Derek opens Spencer’s bedroom door, and you cover your mouth to keep quiet. Spencer doesn’t mind that Derek barges in whenever he wants. With him are Matt and Luke, and the latter smirks at the flushed look on Spencer’s face.

“Why is Y/N’s car here?”

“She dropped it off here,” Spencer thinks quickly. “She took an Uber to hang out with the girls. She didn’t want to drive, and it was cheaper to get one from here than her house.”

Luke looks around the room and sees your toes underneath the bed. He smirks but doesn’t comment on it.

“When she gets back, she can sleep in the guest room.”

“No problem,” Spencer shrugs.

“Don’t you touch her,” Derek points at him.

“I won’t. Why did you come here? Not that I don’t love your company.”

Spencer doesn’t want to get up because then they’ll see the boner he has.

“We’re going to a baseball game. Want to come?”

“No, thank you. I have a bunch of books to get through.”

“I can wait ten minutes,” Derek laughs.

“Maybe next time.”

“Alright. Let me know when she gets home safe.”

“Sure thing.”

The three men leave the room and Spencer busts out laughing at the situation.

“Shut up,” you glare and hit the underside of his bed. You crawl out from underneath it when you know it’s safe to do so. You kneel on the bed and kiss him lovingly. “Derek may be my brother, but he’s not the boss of me. I love you with all my heart, but I better go before he sees me.”

“We gotta tell him soon.”

“I know but sneaking around with you is so much fun,” you wink.

Instead of leaving through the bedroom door like a normal person, you sneak out of the window where there is a tree that slopes down, giving you the perfect escape route. Spencer watches you go with a chuckle, glad that someone like you is in his life.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fictino #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fluff

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yuujispinkhair · 4 months

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Hey Winter, babe, what are your thoughts in Dad! Sukuna? I can't stop wondering what type of dad he would be🥺

Aww hey babe 💗 I love Dad!Sukuna! It always makes me weak to think about him!! 💗💗

The first part of this post can be read for any version of Sukuna: King of Curses, Trueform, modern!Sukuna. The second part is specifically about modern CEO!Sukuna. My blog and some of the linked stories are 18+. Minors please don't interact.

Dad!Sukuna is this big, intimidating man who becomes so soft for his child. He is terrified the first time he holds his baby in his hands. It's so tiny, so fragile, so helpless. Sukuna isn't the type to make himself vulnerable, but he did so by allowing you in his heart and falling in love with you. And now you gave him a baby! You made something grow out of your shared love, and now he holds his baby, his and your baby, who has your eyes and his hair, and it makes him so scared.

Such a tiny, helpless little being, who is his responsibility, his to shelter and to protect in this big and dangerous world. This is the next level of vulnerability. Sukuna knows he will do anything to protect his child and his wife.

It gives Dad!Sukuna sleepless nights in the beginning. He gets up several times each night to sneak over to the small bed and sit next to it to make sure the little one is still breathing, and everything is alright. His large hand trembles when he caresses the soft hair on his child's tiny head.

This huge, strong man is so careful and gentle when he holds his baby in his arms. His eyes keep staring at it, disbelief in them because he still can't comprehend how this miracle happened. He never thought he would be the type to want kids, and now look at him!

Modern CEO Sukuna as a dad:

I love to imagine Sukuna as a girl dad. He is the type to raise a spoiled little brat-princess. Her wish is daddy's command. He buys her any toy she wants, and her closet is overflowing with the cutest clothes. The little princess wants to eat ice cream at eight in the morning? Ok, sure, daddy will drive to her favorite ice cream parlor with her. And if they tell him they are still closed at this time, Sukuna will convince them to open earlier just for his princess. Either with a generous amount of money or with threatening to send some food inspectors over to ruin the ice cream palor's reputation.

Sukuna is also the type of dad who is feared by every teacher because he is such an asshole at those teacher-parent meetings. He keeps calling the school and complaining and threatening them with consequences anytime his little princess has a bad grade or gets into any kind of trouble.

And he is just as bad at his daughter's sports events. Sukuna is ambitious and so proud of his little princess and super protective, so yeah, a lovely combination for any tournament ;) Catch him on the sidelines voicing his opinion to the coaches because he knows better, of course! And getting into fights with the referee, and snapping at the parents of the other kids when one of their children dares touch his princess.

Sukuna is a powerful man with endless riches, so he knows how to use his influence to make sure his little girl only gets the best.

Here are some of my other Dad!Sukuna drabbles/stories:

Dad!Sukuna when his little princess grows up and wants to date someone and get married

Dad!Sukuna vs future son in law Gojo

Trueform!Sukuna holding his newborn baby for the first time

Dilf!Sukuna

Sukuna + lactation kink

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #tw pregnancy

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lexsssu · 1 month

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Cherish (Dan Heng | Imbibitor Lunae)

TAGS: Dan Heng/Dragoness!reader, domestic fluff, parenthood, drabble Ao3 ver, | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“Awwwww! I can barely believe just how Dan Heng managed to have the cutest babies in the world!”

“I mean, he only makes up for half of their DNA anyway, so it’s not surprising they look as adorable as their mom!”

Dan Heng only responds to March 7th and Caelus’ with a roll of his eyes, but doesn’t move from his spot beside you on the soft bed situated inside your large family-sized bedroom (because Aeons knew that you might have killed him before the twins were born if he insisted on sleeping inside the Archives).

You’d only just fed the two hatchlings before taking a nap, using his shoulder as your pillow and hugging his arm to your chest like a plush toy as you slept while sitting up. Even if he wanted to escape from the pillowy softness of your breasts caging his arm, he didn’t dare to disturb your rest.

That left your two children (his flesh and blood whom he’d never expected to be blessed with even in a million years) free to bond with their aunt and uncle by the playmat.

Despite losing everything he had and held dear once upon a time, Dan Heng feels that it was because better things were in store for him.

And looking at his odd and growing family, at the beauty of your sleeping visage even as a bit of drool dripped from the corner of your mouth, he couldn’t think of any image more gorgeous than that.

#lexsssu writes #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x female reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #crossposted on ao3

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chatsukimi · 2 months

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ｓｃａｒｓ： "ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜱᴀʏ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴋɪʟʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ʟɪꜰᴇ"

Sukuna x deceased reader. pt 1.

Sukuna whose flames are unleashed solely on special occasions. One day, when Yuji wonders aloud why he has two, he tells the brat to "shut up and get yourself your first technique before asking for seconds." Yuji winces, shutting up nevertheless.

Sukuna who quietens next to the bonfire on New Years. The open conflagration bursts and wanes. He peers at the sparkling flames, dancing before Yuji's worn out sneakers. He wills the boy to let him switch places- one minute, just as he had promised when Sukuna restored his heart. Now the Devil will restore his own.

Sukuna who appears, silent, next to a mossy pillar in the middle of a redwood forest; a trick of Cursed Technique, long lost. He only has a minute: prepare the incense, plant the prayers, spare one longing gaze at your statue. He clenches his teeth as he hears Yuji banging on inside his mind, but it's the one chance he has of being with you, alone.

Sukuna who had always been concentrated compared to the other Special Grade sorcerers, capable of miraculous devotion. Suffice to say, he likes it best when there aren't passerby's, mistaking zeal for shortcoming.

He sinks to the ground, bowing his head, pressing his palms together, before wisps of flame start drifting from between them, touching every candle and incense to life. Wisteria scents float over him.

In this forgotten corner of the world, all who remember you are the monks who tend this shrine, and the strongest of them all.

When Yuji wakes up, on the stone floor of the Fujiwara Clan's tombs, sputtering at the cold. Shocked, later on, by the violent burn in the middle of his chest he had never seen before.

"Curious..." Gojo murmurs, inspecting the wound. "Yuji, you're growing more and more like him."

This used to be his scar.

Sukuna who doesn't come out for days when Gojo informs Yuji about the Fujiwara Clan's destruction. What was he doing at the shrine? Why did he kill them all, the children, the soldiers, the wives?

Everyone assumes Sukuna's just tired of Yuji's moral clamouring. No one suspects he is drowning in the shadows of his domain, his head collapsed back onto the animal skulls, exhales spilling out in long drawn out phrases, in the nightmare he created.

Sukuna who used to hate fire because it quashed the dark, until he saw you manoeuvre flames and arrows as though they were a second skin. He was the Disgraced One, but you- you were kind.

Sukuna who was killed by you, when he killed your clan. He was promised your technique when he said he would protect you. He made a vow. He had to keep it.

So, when it came time, he had simply let you press your burning hand upon his chest and feel him recline in agony. He knew it would be the last time you touch him. He wanted to feel it burn.

"Sukuna, you told me you would try to get better. You told me you didn't care how the others saw you, about us- how could you lie to me?"

He never wanted to lie to you, of all souls. If it makes you feel better, he still thinks of you when he uses your flames, only on special occasions. Your strength, your grace, and the look you wore as you killed him, they all come wobbling, like moth to a flame. Like a lowly cast-away boy on his way, in rage, to destruction.

Sukuna who thinks to himself, "you have given your technique to me, but what if I had asked for your soul with mine forever?", looking for your voice in the flames.

It only cracks and cackles.

It is Yuji who first notices you on the street.

"Hey! Hey!"

You turn around. A boy with pink hair is jogging towards you. He waves.

"Oh. Hi, do I know you?"

"Don't think so. You just look really alike to someone I saw a while ago at a shrine."

You can't pinpoint what but the slit on his face... you can't tear your eyes from it. You shake your head. What is wrong with you today?

"I don't go to shrines," you say. Your fingers itch to reach out to graze his cheek. "... that's a cool scar you've got there. Both sides of your face. They say scars are where you were killed"

"Oh I've got many scars," he mutters sheepishly. "A big one on my chest, s'kinda lame though, 'cause I don't remember how I got it."

You laugh. "Me too." You drag your T-shirt neckline down just an inch, pointing at it with your thumb. "I was born with mine."

A scar.

A burn.

A flaming arrow.

Right above your heart.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna angst #heian era #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori

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