#‘it’s a tool that will help us later’

[zorilleerrant]

So the differences between these two cover a lot. They are both con men. They are both autistically obsessed with their special coats. They do pay careful attention to fashion trends and tailor their appearances to the space they're trying to infiltrate, something that seemed fun and easy to them to begin with. (Altho I do get the impression Captain Jack signed up initially out of some sense of duty or protecting his fellow sapients.) They're both family men who are terrified of endangering their families. The type of guy is likely to draw the same crowd in a lot of cases. The details vary a lot.

First, erotic relationships - while Constantine sleeps around whenever he's single (or, rather, used to when he was younger), he's a serial monogamist at heart. He falls fast and deep for whoever's caught his eye this minute, even when he's trying to keep it casual. He always expects it to be long term, and his overly intense expectations inevitably cause him to fuck something up. While he's open to sexual experimentation with his current partner (orgies, etc.), he can't really handle polyamory. Captain Jack, on the other hand, is capable of understanding monogamous relationships (it probably exists as a queer identity where he's from), but he struggles to engage in one. He meets people where they are, though, and so sometimes engages in relationships that are dispreferential to him, figuring he can fill that in elsewhere.

Second, killing - Captain Jack considers himself a soldier, even when he's doing civilian things, even when he's on the run, even when he's working for a very different cause than a war. War shaped him, and war stole away his limits. He has no hesitation about killing people if it's necessary. Even when he knows them, loves them, doesn't want to hurt them: when he knows it's necessary, he simply acts. He doesn't enjoy hurting or killing people, but he does consider it a tool always available to him. Constantine is capable of killing people, but just barely. Even when he knows it's absolutely necessary, he will hunt for every other possible option, often until the time is up. He's incapable of killing a child even when he knows that child will grow up to destroy the universe. Until his life or the life of a loved one is directly threatened, he has trouble acting. Counterintuitively, this means that Captain Jack feels directly responsible for any death that he orders or obliquely causes, while Constantine in much more picky about what blood he carries on his hands.

Third, trauma - Captain Jack exists to embody heavily dramatized impossible traumas that, while they have analogy to real people's problems, exaggerate and contort them until they're safe to deal with in a fantasy context. Constantine does the opposite. Constantine's traumas are almost exclusively meant to be very real, very concrete things that happen directly to real people, and where his reactions to them are realistic, even when they involve magic (in either causing or healing the trauma). Captain Jack's bad memories are symbolic, metaphorical, allegorical. Constantine's bad memories are relatable and believable. (Both of them are direct explorations of common queer experiences, though.)

Fourth, powers - Constantine is almost entirely self-taught. While he did obtain mentors and friends to help him expand his repertoire later in his career, this was after he learned everything that was dangerous with no guidance, oversight, or support. He's often said to be a relatively weak magic user, and most of his impressive skill comes from the fact that he had to learn loopholes and exploits to do everything he ever did, from the ground up, instead of following any established pattern of magic users. That and making terrible bargains with all manner of more powerful creatures, most of whom only ever had his worst interests at heart. Captain Jack, on the other hand, was taught rigorously by many different organizations. He was considered exceptionally skilled, a prodigy even, and always enjoyed easy support from his colleagues. Everything else is from one specific accident born from love.

Fifth, self-image - Captain Jack has lots of regrets and lots of wishes, but in general, he thinks of himself as someone who's trying to do good things. He doesn't think he's the worst person just because he's not the best person, and he always strives to improve, because he believes in himself. He's suicidal mostly because he thinks it's unnatural the way he exists, and because of grief. Constantine hates everything about himself at all times. He's trying, he's desperately trying, but he doesn't think he's capable of turning himself into someone who deserves to be alive. He has all kinds of internalized bigotry that he'd be horrified if anyone else said, but believes is true about himself. He firmly believes he is the worst person who ever existed and yet he's afraid to die.

Themes Constantine focuses on that Captain Jack doesn't:

addiction

religion

sexual abuse and recovery

poverty/systemic classism

solidarity and mutual aid

footie

Themes Captain Jack focuses on that Constantine doesn't:

exile/cultural history erasure

chosen family

the ethics of coverups

the universalism of violence/the universalism of kindness

ties through time and place

workplace sex

Themes that both focus on:

grief and loss

alienation from wider culture

power and responsibility

star-crossed love

how good and evil on a grand scale interacts with the personal

monsterfucking

You seem like you would know the answer to this question, are Jack Harkness and John Constantine the Same Guy? I know they're from different things and only have the vaguest dashboard osmosis idea about either of them but the instinct is so strong. What is causing this? Help

you've osmosed them into a single slutty bisexual disaster man that doesn't mind his own business and refuses to die

[formerplumi]

(concept: redstart) batfamily x reforming criminal reader

tw: vv small description of burning bodies.

> reader, who used to scramble around the depths of another city, homeless, hungry and orphaned at nine. naturally became independent, turning to petty crime and sometimes even violence to survive.

> gets caught in the middle of a brawl between adults and almost dies, then caught again by an unmeaning police officer, who relocates you to a children's home.

> your adoption is coerced by the odd head-lady, who justifies it by claiming a strict, but caring family could reform you from your "unruly behaviour" within the centre halls.

> she was right about the strict, not about the caring. father was a hyper-militaristic, obsessed with proving worth through strength type of guy. even had a whole base of operations dealing in organised crime, without even doing so much as hobby-boxing.

> you were incredibly indoctrinated into "goods" and "bads" and how to solve the issue of corruption by a moralistic, anti-moral man. he was the corruption, but painted himself in bright lights.

> you were a lonely child. you began to look up to him. obsessing over everything he said and did and holding it like a knife to your throat.

> adoptive father never much considered you as much compared to his other two, older sons, and treated you as a tool for some unmade project.

> life was like lucid dreaming. you had full control, but none, none, at all.

> concious enough to feel hurt by his treatment and dismissal, but felt too indebted to ever complain, or speak about it. grew up knowing little outside of subservierence. brothers were shadows in the backgrounds, implied ghosts of what you wish you could've been.

> not allowed to be a part of society. father considered it weakness, a threat, a vulnerability. the one time you did get friends, you were punished for it harshly, and isolated further.

> no personal aspirations outside of hoping, barely, to make the man who so tediously took you in proud.

> trained obssesively, five times harder than the brother's you'd never outshine, with ten times less the recognition or support.

> firmly believes your father's course in life is correct, and wants to support it, but can't because he doesn't trust you enough to tell you his goals.

> completely in a frienzied panic when your father and brothers drop dead. your way of life, your identity, all gone with them. completely. a mere child, with nothing to live for.

> batman bad come originally as an 'ally', to take your father's side jn subduing crime worldwide. but you had identified his ploy to take down your father's plans immently as soon as he earned his trust.

> your father was not a clever man. did not think batman knew of his intentions, his mannerisms. believed himself to always be superior.

> but he didn't believe you when you told him, and you watched as their conversations progressed with desperation. he believed this old bat more in these few days than he had you in your whole life.

> when batman reveals his intentions, an accident causes your father to set off an esplosive he himself had planted incase of emergencies. you couldn't help, watching with raw agony as his skin burnt away to reveal boiling flesh. watched with uncontrolable shaking at the batman trying to put it out, trying to perhaps save him and your brothers.

> lunging at him with such practiced fervour, he was caught off guard for a second. realising that the man had another child (not knowing of their mistreatment), he felt immensly guilty and indebted. to stop you from trying to claw his face off, your weapons hidden away by your father before his death, he knocks you out.

> when you wake up, two days later; not due to the force of his hit, but sheer exhausation from all the gruelling work you did daily, you're suprisingly compliant.

> even as an eldey man dressed in a deep black suit, accompanied by a tall black-haired boy you're sure you don't recognise, you don't struggle or scowl.

> they had expected you to.

> maybe it was slow adaptibility, shock, subconcious relief and unconcious reasoning that resulted in your quiet demeanor. without the antics of your usual routine, you were a little timid, like a little doe.

> the boy takes to you immediately, speaking warmly, introducing himself as dick grayson. the name strikes no bells, and you only stare in response. he talks of friends, family, getting better and getting up, but you listen only to half of what he says, nodding once in acknowledgement.

> and so begins the guilt-ridden journey of the batman, trying to protect gotham, the world, and reform a child whose parent he didn't kill, but couldn't save. you begin shadowing your guardian and his... guards (so you term them) on patrols, stalking behind them at gatherings, make appearences in a civilian identity crafted for you on the media. everything you do feels lost, like a deer caught in traffic.

> later, when they talk to you more about your life before the manor, jason simply says, "bruce didn't not do anything. he didn't do anything at all."

> you think he might be sad.

> you piece together the little memories you have, training, fighting, eating, sulking and sleeping with both eyes open into a big, big story. you look at the family come together atleast once a month, a warmth from them you've felt so very rarely, from a distance.

> you feel bruce's reassuring pat on your shoulder, encouraging you to join them.

> you think you might be sad.

INTERACTIONS & Reblogs appriciated !

gahhh i love this idea thingy in my head. so much angst potential. fluff potential. character expansion, relations, dynamic potential... cass, damian, steph, on your end of the coin. tim, dick, duke, on the other... jason, on the edge. i think the whole concept of wanting but not feeling like you deserve what u want is such a batfam thing, a reader with that attribute would be a puzzle piece locking in, or the exact opposite.

anyway, hoped u liked this little drabble. tell me if u think this is smth worth going after.

thank you for reading!!

[gatheringbones]

[“In the dungeon, the dominatrix was a paragon of high-femme adornment, training submissive men in the supposedly organic wisdom of her gender. In reality, I was trying on this kind of glamour and ultrafemininity for the first time.

Two things helped me to fall in love with mani-pedis and skin creams and click-clacking around in dramatically slanted stilettos in my 20s, despite rejecting these sartorial amusments growing up. One was that I was making cash money to do it, which was much more motivating than the Seventeen magazines and peer pressures of my adolescence. Second, I was surrounded by beautiful naked women encouraging me to develop my own style. Most of my colleagues were much more experienced with makeup, hair, lingerie, jewelry, heels, nails, lotion, and perfume, much more confident in products, styling, shapes, and colors than I was. Some of them were sweetly excited about my ineptitude, eagerly turning me into a doll they could experiment on. I smelled the sizzle of flat irons as they tugged at my hair from behind, I squeezed eyelash glue nervously along the rinds of falsies as they timed me, I sat on the cold linoleum and snapped their garters into place every day for weeks until I could do it with my eyes closed. As their hands and tools stroked my body, conditioning me in more ways than one, I felt an ASMR buzz all over. If I felt objectified, it was as an exalted precious object, like a car being tuned up under my hood, my exteriors waxed until I shined.

A colleague turned to me out of the blue one day, snapping, “What is your skin care routine?” When I sheepishly replied that I had none, she marched me into the bathroom, sternly showing me how to cleanse, moisturize, and always wear sunscreen. I have done this every single day since. That’s all it took for me to learn to care for myself in this way. A little feminine superiority.

If this sounds familiar, it should. Despite being assigned female at birth, I was just as enchanted as any dude could have been by confident pros guiding me into a realm of prettiness, and I needed every bit as much coaching. I would get femme trained by my colleagues, and minutes later I would lead clients into session rooms and train them to be femme too.

I’m hardly the first person to observe that drag is drag no matter your resting gender, your genitals, your orientation, your motivation. Not to put too fine a point on it, but most sex workers know we are drag artists. Much in the same way that pro wrestlers exaggerate their own masculinity, the dominatrix is a femme maximalist entertainer. The fact that a cis woman can feel like a drag queen speaks to the performative nature of gender expression, of both drag as an art and cross-dressing as a fetish. By and large, my cross-dressing clients didn’t want to be women. They wanted to be bimbos! They embodied their own ideas of insatiable sluts and campy cartoons. Maximalist girls, exaggerated girls, megawatt girls. They wanted satin corsets, jewel tones, iridescent glitter, fishnets, freesia body spray. They spoke like Betty Boop and did their best to stiffly dance along to Prince songs. They saw this glamour as sparkling dynamite to bust them out of the prison of their toxic masculinity, even if just for a few hours, even if only superficially.

I didn’t find these fantasies a reminder of the awful pressures of girliness I had initially rejected; gender-bending in the dungeon showed me that I had been positioned to see femme all wrong. The bimbo is an archetype, a shimmering human invention waiting to be embodied by anyone who cares to summon her. It’s the choice to play with gender as an adult, as opposed to a lifetime of imposed messaging about what kind of gender you can and can’t be, that generates the erotic pleasures of cross-dressing.

I enjoyed being bullied into girliness by my fellow pro-dommes, so I empathized with our clients, regardless of the gender trajectory that led us to femme power play. All of the qualities that we expressed as feminine—from soft clothes to luscious scents to sucking cock—had belonged to all of us the whole time. I get why a cis dominatrix wouldn’t want to participate in forced feminization. I also get why many trans people, trans women in particular, find the existence of transvestitism to be so painful. When you have to fight so hard every day for the fundamental dignity and civil rights of your gender, it can be agonizing to see someone treat that gender as frivolous. Cross-dressing clients were often annoyingly reductive, like young adults on rumspringa, gorging themselves on the sugar high of femininity after being denied it for so long. It was clear to me that some of these fetishists liked cross-dressing sessions because it happened to be the variation on humiliation that their submissive tendencies had alighted on, emasculation being one of a hundred ways of having your social status lowered by a dominatrix. Others would have liked to wear dresses and bubblegum-flavored lip gloss more often, including in situations where they weren’t necessarily aroused. Still others weren’t actually cross-dressers at all, but closeted or crypto-transgender women. The kinky space was the only one they knew where they could be themselves using what they saw as a safe, private, and limited method. Some of them would transition eventually, and some would keep that part of themselves compartmentalized their entire lives. All three of these categories of person deserve the space to explore their gender expression through erotic fantasy.

Some cross-dressing fetishists are cis. Some trans women are butch. Some drag artists are straight. There’s no one way to do or be any of these things, and while we can experiment with identity through art and erotics, we shouldn’t conflate persona with personhood. Most importantly, trans people of all kinds deserve an existence that is both sexually liberated and not constantly sexualized. I would love to report that we have reached the point in the gender revolution where cross-dressing is redundant because there is nothing to cross. But erotics are still a viable way for us to explore who we really are, or would like to be.”]

tina horn, from why are people into that? a cultural investigation of kink, 2024

[milkoomi]

a guide on becoming an academic weapon. ᥫ᭡

being an academic weapon is one of the top goals for a lot of us. we strive for excellence and hope to achieve top marks in all our classes so that we can continue to reach whatever it is that may be our final goal like getting into a top university, graduating as valedictorian, or getting into the career of our dreams. this guide will be about all the habits of an academic weapon and what tools & methods you can incorporate into your study/school routine!

let’s begin …

୨ৎ — lecture preperation

pre-reading chapters/lecture powerpoints

skim through chapters, make note of important headings, highlight key terms! if you can, look through any powerpoints that will be used for lecture notes as well!

jot down quick notes like vocab terms, key pieces of information, and/or any questions on topics you want to understand further!

read chapter summaries & highlight important headings

set up your notes

if you like to use different note-taking methods, try setting up your pages beforehand! this will take up less time while in class and you’ll come in already prepared to take any notes!

i have a post on note-taking here on my blog that you can refer to for a few different note-taking methods!

begin homework assignments

my professor will publish homework assignments on sunday mornings for each week that we’re learning new material, so if your teacher does something similar or you’re taking an all-online course, start by working ahead on those homework assignments!

getting a head start can …

help with having a better understanding of the material by the time of your lecture

help you apply the knowledge you learned from the assignments into your lecture

help you come up with questions for better comprehension of the topics

help you manage your time better

reduce your work load later on

start creating flashcards

if you’re required to know key terms/vocab, start creating flashcards ahead of time! this will help you get familiar with the vocabulary that’s related to the material and will jumpstart that increase in understanding of what’s to come in your lecture or any required readings!

୨ৎ — smart studying

we’re always told to “work smarter, not harder” and i believe that doing so can help you achieve success more quickly and efficiently! while it’s great to dedicate a lot of time to your studies, it’s not always optimal. spending hours upon hours working with no breaks in between and forgetting to take care of yourself can lead to burn out, so it’s important to find ways to study that not only help you study more efficiently but also work with your learning type!

trial periods

there are a plethora of study methods out there that you can try out to see which ones work the best for you!

posts with study methods ( + how-to’s ) …

how to study effectively - @milkoomi

non-basic study techniques - @glowettee [ this post is PHENOMENAL! mindy includes so many unique study methods— some that she created herself! — that give an entirely new way to study & learn material! 100/10 recommend reading through this! ]

take some time each week to try out a new study method while still incorporating techniques you’re used to! pick one study method for the week & test it out at the start of your study time slot.

trying out new methods/techniques also help with keeping your study routine fresh and it creates a bigger study arsenal for yourself! having multiple ways of studying just means having a variety of ways to learn the material! every method has its benefits, some will help with memorization while others can help with better comprehension!

pick your big 3

amongst all the different study methods out there, you should pick your top 3 techniques that help you the most! they’ll be your ultimate go-to study methods!

factors to think about for your big 3 …

how much time does the method/technique take?

what is your success rate with the method/technique?

how easy was it for you to incorporate the method/technique into your study routine?

your big 3 study methods should help with maximizing your productivity time, help you achieve your desired grades, & be within your limits while studying, meaning it shouldn’t make you feel like you’re stretching yourself thin because, again, we need to study smarter, not harder!

my personal big 3:

Feynman Technique - teaching others

active recall - practice questions & flashcards

knowledge application - making real life connections

textbook tests

i feel like a lot of us view textbooks as these giant, daunting bricks we’re forced to lug around, but they’re required material for a reason! they’re more than just a giant book of “boring” chapters!

a lot of textbooks have mini assessments at the end of every chapter, so take some time to do them! they’re just practice tests and they’ll be extremely useful for active recall (plus, you don’t have to worry about creating your own practice questions!)

୨ৎ — change your mindset

being an academic weapon means having the mindset of an academic weapon. the way you think and feel about your schooling plays a huge role in this!

“i have to” to “i get to”

treating your academics and studies as if they’re chores will make you lose your motivation and passion for learning. getting to have an education is a privilege and i feel like a lot of us forget that. be thankful that you get to pursue an academic career and get the chance to further your education! instead of “i have to study” say, “i get to study”!

getting an education is a beautiful opportunity in life, so practice gratitude when it comes to learning!

self care

i will always advocate for self care because you can’t do your best when you aren’t at your best. being an academic weapon doesn’t mean throwing your entire life away or setting your health to the side to solely focus on your studies. going to the extremes for your academics shouldn’t be normalized.

you don’t need to pull all-nighters every other day to study, you don’t need to work/study for 14 hours, you don’t need to harshly motivate yourself to get back to studying— you need to treat yourself kindly and shoe yourself gentle care.

get enough sleep

shower, do skincare, brush your teeth

keep yourself hydrated & well-fed

get your body moving

make time for your hobbies & things that make you happy

remember to take breaks when your mind & body needs them

don’t sacrifice your well-being to get ahead on your road to success. you’ll only bring yourself farther behind if you neglect your health.

final notes —

becoming an academic weapon is 60% mindset, 40% work ethic. you have to motivate yourself to give your best work, but! you have to take care of your mind and body before you even think about giving your best work. be kind to yourself, affirm yourself that you can do this! you are more than capable of achieving academic success!

the work you put in as an academic weapon has to be work you’re proud of. be sure that you’re using your time wisely, that you free yourself from distractions while studying, that you give yourself enough time to get work done (and take breaks & do something for yourself!), and that you always give it your all when you’re completing assignments, writing notes, or studying.

i know that you’ll be able to truly be an academic weapon! you have what it takes! you just have to remind yourself of your own potential.

with lots of love, faustina 🌷

[froggiequarium]

1k words; rafayel making nail art... for you (working on this when i'm supposed to be working on a new fic for main oops.... raf invaded my mind what can i say?)

-

rafayel noticed your little habit of constantly switching out your press-on nails every couple of weeks. infact, you often began asking him his opinions on which to use next after catching his curious eyes glued to you as you prepped your nails for the newly decided set, and he'd confidently point out the one he thought would suit the season or occasion better.

one day, after showing him the new sets you'd bought during a sale and oogling at the cute art and charms they were decorated with, he offhandedly asked if they were difficult to make.

"hm? well, i've seen videos that make it easy, but usually things look easier than when you actually try it yourself, so i just stick to buying them," you sheepishly point out with a little laugh.

and suddenly, rafayel has an idea.

in the next week or so, when its around the time to switch out your nails once more, rafayel calls you and tells you to meet him at his studio, that he has a surprise waiting for you.

curious and excited, you immediately make your way there, having no other plans for the day, mentally going through special days to make sure you're not forgetting any occasion.

though, it wasn't likely, given rafayel's nature of spoiling you with surprise gifts for no particular reason.

you make your way inside of his studio and find him in the living area, just finishing arranging some things before his gaze flits up to yours.

"well hello, miss bodyguard. you got here quick."

you take slow steps towards him, grinning.

"a certain fishy said they had something for me, i couldn't just keep him waiting."

he grins back.

when you close the distance and are standing right before him, he holds his hands out, palms facing up.

"give me your hands," he coaxes.

you do as you're told, sliding your hands over his, and he grips them gently, inspecting your hands— you don't have a new set on yet, just as he expected.

perfect.

"why don't i do your nails for you this time?"

you tilt your head.

"is this your surprise?"

"part of it."

"are you sure? i didn't think you'd be interested, and i'm used to doing it myself...."

"nonsense, let me decorate your hands for you this time, cutie."

you raise an eyebrow, suspicious at his insistence, but allow yourself to be dragged to the couch and seated next to him as he reaches for the utensils that you use to prep your nails.

"why did you have everything ready? were you that confident i'd let you do my nails for me?"

he holds up the nail clippers, moving close to begin snipping down your nails.

"its already been a couple of weeks since your last set, so i knew you'd be working on another one sooner or later."

something about the attention to detail rafayel pays when it comes to you makes your heart thump a little faster in your chest.

"right..."

he's finished trimming and filing your nails quickly before he grabs a spikier tool to push your cuticles back, trimming some as he sees fit. afterward, he's grabbing another tool and begins gently buffing the surface of each nail. when he reaches for a small alcohol wipe to drag over each nail bed, you speak up again, realizing something.

"wait, what set are you even going to put on? did you decide without me?"

he cleans the last finger, setting the wipe down beside him before reaching for the nail glue to have ready.

"give me a second."

he reaches for a little box that was hidden in plain sight behind a cup of paintbrushes on the nearby table. its a pretty blue and wrapped in a little purple ribbon. he hands it to you, and you slowly take it from him.

"this is the real surprise," he smiles, gesturing for you to open it.

you look up at him before pulling at one of the ends of the ribbon, gently unraveling it and popping the lid off of the box. you can't help the little gasp that escapes you at the sight within.

it's a new set of nails, pristine and pretty, looking like the ones that are on the pricier end of the websites you buy from.

they're a mix of pearly white and ocean blue, different images from seashells and little fish to a seahorse being painted on a few of them, embellished with small colored-pearl looking charms and some shiny gold glitter for highlight. even more, the shape of them is exactly your preference.

you're looking at them for a long time in silence due to the awe of the detail and beauty of them. rafayel watches you marvel at them, but grows too eager to hear your thoughts.

"do you like them?"

rafayel's voice breaks you from your trance and you finally manage to tear your gaze away from the nails to meet his eyes.

"did you.... make these?"

rafayel only shrugs in response.

"i decided to try it out. it wasn't the easiest thing, but it was simple enough, and i got the hang of it easily. still, i think my back is still hurting from the weird angle i had to be at to paint on such a tiny canvas," he whines, rubbing his lower back for emphasis.

you breathe out a laugh, pushing yourself forward and kissing the pout off of his lips.

"these are the prettiest nails i've ever had, raf. thank you," you beam.

his ears are bright red.

"its not that big a deal," he looks to the side, shy. the volume of his voice is lower at his next words. "besides, there's more where that came from, so its nothing..."

you nod, making a note to ask to watch him at work later. for now, you hold the box out to him, gaze expectant.

"well, i'm ready for my new nails, mister nail artist~"

he's back to his normal self at your words, pleased expression crossing his face as he snatches the box from you before picking up the glue.

"leave it to me!"

needless to say, you received the most compliments on this set than you had from the other sets you wore, everyone hounding you for which new nail place you went to this time for such a beautifully effortless result.

you were all too satisfied to turn to each of them and proudly reveal the secret nail tech, the curious gazes immediately growing stunned.

"my boyfriend!"

-

you cant convince me he wouldn't be good at nail art.... inspired by the next press-on set im going to use looking cutely painted (not ocean themed though) & it made me think ab how rafayel would definitely make you your own sets.... nail tech raf anyone???

-

[ravennaortiz]

2/4 A: Boxed Chocolates with Tig requested by @privatetruths As always 18+

“Chocolate?” you inquired innocently as you held out a Heart shaped box to Tig as you stepped into the TM garage.

Tig eyed you suspiciously as he wiped his hands on the rag hanging from the hood of the car. You and him were not enemies but not exactly fans of each other either. You offering him a treat seemed like a trick. Though maybe you were trying to extend an olive branch and if he was honest he had come on to strong when you first came around.

“There cream filled. I know you like when things are filled” you teased as you shook the box at him.

“Doll. You know the way to get to me” replied Tig as he gave you a smile before reaching for one in the center and popping it into his mouth. His eyes flew open about the time you started laughing.

“The fuck is in these” demanded Tig as he spat the chocolate out and wiped at his tongue.

“Oh you know things to help clean that filthy mouth of yours up” you replied with a smirk as you started to turn and leave the garage.

Tig chuckled before quickly moving and grabbing your arm. You let out a gasp as he spun you to face him. Pressing you up against a tool box. “Good thing I got my mouth all minty fresh cause I’m about to get it dirty again. I got you figured out Doll” sated Tig lowly into your ear before lifting you onto the tool box sending items clattering to the floor.

Minutes later he was buried between your thighs as they squeezed his head. Your hand buried in his wild dark curls, nails digging into his scalp as he made you come again. “Fuck Tig” you groaned as he pulled from you with a smirk.

“If you think that was good wait for my next trick. I’m going to  make something disappear” stated Tig as he pulled you from the tool box and pushed you to the car he had been working on. “Bend over and spread those pretty thighs” he ordered as he undid his pants.

“Oh” you moaned as he slammed into you with a hard thrust that sent you further over the car.

“Now I will make it reappear” murmured Tig as he slowly pulled from you. Eyes locked on where your bodies met. “Disappear again. Calling me a magician” he joked as he slammed into you once more.

“Just fuck me Trager” you demanded as you looked over your shoulder at him.

“Happily” replied Tig as he placed one hand on the small of your back and use the other to grab a handful of your hair pulling it back as he pounded in and out of your soft fluttering walls. Your moans and the lapping of skin echoed through the TM garage. You were almost at the brink of another orgasm when you heard someone speak.

“Glad to see you two getting along finally” called Gemma as she stepped out of the office making Tig pull quickly from you spraying your ass and back of your thighs with cum as you screamed to pull your dress down. “Don’t stop on my account. I’m gonna get lunch so office is free” she added as she left laughing.

[theocddiaries]

[A couple of days later, Shadow and Sonic are at the latter's house]. Sonic: Bed made every day with clean bedding, he even ironed Amy’s plushies’ outfits. Not to mention the garage: spotless. I went in earlier, and I didn’t even need to turn on the lights because his stupid tools were shining so bright I almost went blind. Let me tell you, Shadow, I am NOT having a pet in this house. Shadow: I don’t know, maybe we got the tactic wrong. Sonic: We?? [Tails arrives home with a loaf of bread and a grocery bag]. Tails: Hey, guys. Sonic, look, I bought bread and did the groceries. You wanted to make rice tonight, right? I got the ingredients you usually use. Sonic [throws a furious glance at Shadow before taking the bags with a forced smile]: That’s great. Such a good kid. Tails: I am, aren’t I? Sonic: Yeah… I made you a snack. Your favorite. A ham and tomato sandwich. [hands it to him]: And since you’ve been behaving so well, you can eat it on the couch while watching TV. Tails: No, Sonic, not on the couch, it’ll get dirty, and that would be very irresponsible. Sonic: Okay. Well, but you’d like a nice big bowl of mint ice cream, wouldn’t you? With mint chips and some chocolate syrup. Tails: I doubt I’ll still be hungry. Sonic [through gritted teeth]: Okay. Tails: And you can watch your show in peace, I’ll clean the plate when I’m done. I bought a new sponge-- Sonic [snaps]: Oh yeah? Do you even know what a sponge looks like? Because last time I checked, you wouldn’t have touched one even if it helped you grab your tools!!!! Shadow [steps in]: Sonic-- Tails: The sponge would probably do a better job than you. [takes a smug bite of his sandwich and heads to his room] Sonic: OOOOH, the audacity! GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE--! Shadow [grabs him by the shoulders]: Calm down-- Sonic: No, I am NOT calming down! That kid is mocking me! All over that stupid chao! LET GO OF ME, YOU SECOND-RATE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT PLUSHIE!!!! Shadow [takes a step back]: Okay! But breathe, you're gonna pop a vein! [Sonic breathes heavily, running a hand through his quills.] Shadow: Look, the kid has been behaving well. We should give in on this, we promised him. Sonic: “We” again? Look, Shadow, you better be referring to you and your damn people-pleasing, because for once, I didn’t open my mouth. So you better march over there and tell him there’s no chao, you hear me? [huffs and starts to leave the kitchen. He slaps the grocery bag childishly]: Bought a sponge… the little bastard!

Part 1

[cordjefferson]

Hi! Not sure if you still answer questions on here, but I feel lost as a screenwriter right now. In my final year of film school, I’m afraid the “industry” we are about to be let out into no longer exists. I don’t want to go back to journalism, but I also don’t want to fail at screenwriting in vain. I’ll keep going, but just wondering if you’ve ever found yourself in a similar place. Hope you’re well.

A few days after Trump was elected the first time, I called my dad to complain and commiserate. He listened to me worry for a few minutes and then he said, "You know, when I was a young man, it was common to wake up and find out that Medgar Evers had been killed or that Malcolm X had been killed or that Martin Luther King Jr. had been killed, or that another person had been lynched somewhere not too far from where I grew up. It was terrible, but we had to go on living our lives."

It was a helpful reminder that shit's always sucked -- in many ways it used to suck worse. That doesn't mean your fear is unfounded. You have every right to be afraid as all the world's ghouls circle their wagons in an effort to eternalize their wealth and influence, thus making our already intractable problems feel even more intractable. But the great news is that now is the perfect time for you to make your art.

Hard times can make for excellent work. Consider that punk rock and rap blossomed under Reagan. I'm currently in the middle of a novel called The Oppermanns, which follows a trio of German-Jewish brothers in 1933 Berlin dealing with the rise of Nazism. It's a great book on its face, but the whole piece becomes even more interesting when you discover that it was written by a German-Jew in real time as the Nazis rose to power.

Even if what you write isn't taken seriously at first, making art is never a failure. Artists aren't athletes, meaning you don't need to produce your best work before you turn 35 and your knees give out. Creativity is a lifelong pursuit. You'll only get better at it the more you live, learn, and grow. And because the winds of industries and the world are always changing, allowing their vagaries to scare you into inaction would be a death sentence.

I had a very long dry spell in the year 2014. I went to meeting after meeting trying to get into a TV writers' room and was rejected over and over again. After almost nine months of being told no, I finally emailed my manager one night to say that I was going to quit "working" in TV and go back to what was left of my journalism career. He asked me to stick it out for one more month, and two weeks later I got an interview with someone who hired me. Work has fortunately been pretty steady ever since. So, of course, stubborn persistence is also a valuable tool in all of this.

I can't imagine I'm saying anything that you don't already understand somewhere in your heart. You know that you've picked a challenging career. The arts are infamously cutthroat and chancy, and many of your contemporaries are going to quit somewhere along the line. It's a tough road to hoe, and the only thing that makes it at all tolerable is the ability to find value and joy in the making of your thing, whatever that may be. If writing something feels like it's been done in vain because you don't sell it or it doesn't become a hit TV show, I recommend you don't do this work. Only do it if the doing of it is what sustains you, because the doing of it may be what has to sustain you forever.

I'm rooting for you from afar. XO

[tinynicooo]

eurovision - joost klein x reader | 16+

summary: Joost is still dealing with the memories about Eurovision.

a/n: my first fic(drabble??) here!! i used to write a lot earlier but then i lost my previous acc, so here i am again:)) i also had a big pause of all this writing thing & english is not my first language! sorry!!!

warnings: rpf, angst, fluff

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

One year ago he wore that blue suit.

One year ago he performed for the whole Europe: and the whole Europe cheered for him.

One year ago his biggest dream came true - almost.

Now, one year later after all these moments, he is laying here, in his bed, with your head tucked under his chin; the soft beats of his heartbeat softly thumping in your ears; his arm draped around your shoulder lazily, such comforting weight (considering how much bigger this man was) is already making you sleepy, yet the angelic sight in front of you was just too marvelous to take your gaze away yet.

Your man, your Joost - his eyes closed, pale eyelashes and eyelids wavering from time to time: the evidence of his frequent nightmares and sleep problems, but it could fade away - even for just a bit - when you were here. His pink lips parted slightly, so kissable and always so tender to you: covering your whole face with soft pecks, murmuring words of adoration in your ear, praising you with excitement when you’ve done basically anything, laughing at your jokes - and smiling every time he saw you. And the way his blue eyes lit up every time, and the way his face beamed, and his dimples were being showed - it all didn’t change.

Yes, he himself changed. He needed so much time alone after all this Eurovision chaos, yet he also needed you close - closer, than he ever did: it was absolutely unbearable to find a perfect contrast between his mood swings, but your heart was soaring, breaking to help this man, and it still does that. Sometimes you find some papers with such simple, yet deep words - his poetry - about all this pain and thoughts he has, but never fully shares even with you. Keeping the secret, you always put these papers back, pretending you never even knew about them. The problems with his sleep started during all this court processes, what took a big tool on him and his mental state; of course, you were always anxious too, never able to relax properly while your boyfriend was on his breaking point and you couldn’t even help him.

You still don’t understand his feelings about all this stuff.

Sometimes you catch him rewatching this performance - so bright and colourful, a completely opposite of things he does now, yet you love both absolutely equally, being fascinated by everything he creates - and he smiles, a warm glance in his eyes, but this smile contains a hint of sadness behind it.

And sometimes you catch him being unexpectedly quiet, even lonely in your shared apartment. These are days when he wants to just sit in front of his laptop, pretending to work on his music, but truly just needing time to think, to be alone with all the remorse he has in his heart, and you can’t do anything to help him: you hold him when he needs it, you soothe him when he comes for this, but it can’t be enough for such big deal.

It’s a hard thing to be over it - and you get it. You get him.

His eyes flatter open, and you see that familiar sparkle again, and then the smile appears, and the dimples… you lean up, gently bumping your nose against his own, when he carefully flips you over, his massive body pining you down to the mattress and he props himself up on his elbows only. Your gentle palm covers his cheek, running a thumb under his eye and feeling the soft skin of his face. You watch adoringly as he smiles down at you - genuinely! - and his gaze lights up with happiness; sleepy drowsiness is already gone.

“You were staring, I felt it in my sleep,” he said with a soft giggle, this adorable giggle that you loved so much, and his voice was slightly raspy now after a small nap: gosh, so tender and exciting.

“Sor-“

“I love you.”

You smile, and your free hand subtly covers the Eurovision tattoo on his forearm.

“I love you too.”

[harukyuu2]

HI!! Can I req luka x reader (alnst) where reader genuinely feels hideous no matter what? Like reader doesn’t like their face, etc Thank you mwa

hi hii! i was a little blank to write Luka's character, but i hope you like it still <33 !! - Fluff, Luka still has some subtle weird behaviours, a little suggestive, neutral reader, Luka is pretty serious while talking...?, maybe a little ooc, use of a petname (dear) "HIDEOUS? PURE NONSENSE." - Luka x Reader !!

This man doesnt understand your mentality at all

He doesnt care about your opinion about yourself, BUUTTT in the way where he cant see why you keep calling yourself ugly when in visuals you got a pretty good score??

Even Luka— who has some issues understanding what feelings are, can tell he likes seeing your face

He wouldnt say much when you started ranting about your face, and if he ever caught you looking at yourself in the mirror with disgust, he would simply ignore it for the moment thinking that in anytime you will realize that youre pretty and not as hideous as you think you are

...Still, if you get too dense about it, its time for Luka to shut you up! with facts more than anything. He would use your visual score, standards and any tool that could prove his point

The most reassuring way he has to make you feel better and not hideous—is simply sitting you by his side and kissing or biting every part of your body, lingering on the ones he likes most. He's pretty sick, honestly. Im sure he has licked your face once or twice

You couldnt help but whine when your attempt at a new makeup style ended in failure—not even a different brand, thousands of tutorials, or countless tries could make you stop feeling hideous. You started to feel uncomfortable in front of the mirror. Maybe ignoring your reflection would make it better? It didnt matter, its always the same feeling anyways. Quickly, you began wiping off your failed makeup attempt when you sensed a presence walking through the hall. Peeking out, you caught a glimpse of blonde locks—it was Luka

Once you ended up washing your face and went to the living room you found Luka sitting on the couch looking at the Tv, a program presenting the secrets and photoshoots of the stars in Alien Stage— of course he was one of them. Was he studying his opponents? admiring himself? Who knows, you sitted on his side without saying too much because you were already feeling that Luka was tired of your low esteem even if you discreetly saw him from the side of your eye, he noticed it since you entered the room, but he didnt call you out until a couple of minutes later. - "Whats on your mind?" - Luka asks bluntly without taking his eyes out of the TV. You hesitated for a moment, but at the end you talked just like Luka wanted. Your own thoughts camed out in almost a soft murmur since you were embarassed of them:

"i...i didnt like the makeup our guardians gifted me, not because of the brand or something! but because it doesnt fit me i guess, not even that makeup managed to go well with my features..." - You sigh frustated leaning your head back into the couch. You tried to soften your words as much as you could, but you knew very well that you could rant for more than three paragraphs about why your face didnt look good with anything Yet, your words managed to irritate Luka— there was no way you could be that stupid. So, in a chance for you to actually hear him for once and change your opinion about yourself, he pinned you against the couch— not giving you the opportunity to escape in anyway from this scolding. Luka was planning to actually do this until your mind understanded for once the value of your beauty "Stop saying such stupid things, if you were ugly you wouldnt be in Alien Stage from the start, you wouldnt even enter on the top of visuals for the aliens, cant you see the reality, dear?" - He looks intently into your eyes, not giving you the chance to escape or avert your gaze. It doesnt matter how surprised you look at his words or if you start protesting about him being on top of you, he wont let you go Luka continues - "What's so hard to understand about how pretty you are? Do I need to be more affectionate for you to get it? Well, Im tired of waiting for you to change that mindset of yours. So, I guess its my turn to get inside that little head of yours…" He takes one of your hands, kissing and biting your knuckles lightly without breaking eye contact, almost forcing you to see things his way instead of drowning in your awful thoughts

Luka started to kiss, lick or whatever he managed to consider it would show you the affection you needed to feel for yourself too. He focused on the features of your face— the ones you always complained didnt match the rest. He took his time, longer than you expected, almost like a slow, drawn-out torture meant to make you surrender

When he finally reached your lips, it was a slow yet deliberate kiss, lasting longer than the usual ones Luka gave you— short, always meant to satisfy him when he needed it. He found it pretty amusing when you pouted, wanting more

When he pulled away, his eyes remained fixed on your embarrassed expression, boredom flickering in them. He didnt let you hide behind your hands. Instead, in a serious and firm tone, he whispered into your ear:

"No, youre not moving from here. Youre not leaving until you accept how gorgeous you are, until you give up those shitty thoughts and finally acknowledge how your face can give you so many advantages with the aliens votes and everything."

[beef-brisket]

It wasn't that Lucifer wasn't listening. It was more that he was distracted. But, he still tried to rack his brain so it wouldn't be obvious.

Lucifer: Hm... that's a good theory...

Finally, he thought of a question that didn't make him look like a tool.

Lucifer: But why wouldn't he kill the person he's really after?

Adam: Hm... personal reasons? Maybe he's compensating for the fact he can't touch his real target... maybe it's someone he can't get near. Like a celebrity or someone in power.

Adam turned back to the board and looked over the photos. Each body was set up in some kind of pose, and their cause of death was like art. Bones and flesh used to create a morbid picture.

Adam: ...What if... it's a message...? Like... he doesn't want to hurt the person... so he takes it out on others. He wants everyone to know, especially the person he's really after, so he uses the bodies as a way to show that? Or... maybe he has an accomplice? Someone else that takes joy in it... that would explain the crime scenes that seem to have more activity than some...

Lucifer nods along, his eyes on Adam's hips the whole time. He swears he's listening, his eyes just wonder, that's all.

Lucifer: Hm... that's a very interesting theory, detective. I'm impressed.

Adam smiled, he's definitely going to here off about this later.

Adam: Thank you, sir. I just think it makes logical sense.

Lucifer: Good. You need to be confident, Adam. Especially is claiming something so bold as their being two people involved.

Leaning back, Lucifer couldn't help but smirk: Or, perhaps, love could be a motive.

Adam: ...Love...? Love... could work... but if we're going that route, I think obsession and need for possession fits better... huh... that's interesting, actually... obsession... but... why wouldn't he target the one he wants? A message is one thing, but pure obsession? Surely, that would be enough to make the killer go after the one they really want...

Lucifer: Perhapes, he doesn't want to hurt them...

Adam: Maybe... there has to be something in these crime scenes that will point out who he wants?

There was a knock at the door, and Angel and Alastor walked in. Alastor fiddled with a bunch of papers.

Lucifer: Ah, gentlemen, good evening.

Angel: Evening captain. Hey Ad.

Adam: Hey Ange, what's up, Al?

Alastor sighed: You're not going to like this.

Lucifer: Oh? And why is that?

Angel and Alastor shared a glance before the papers were slid over to the two detectives.

Alastor: It's not David. The DNA doesn't match.

Adam: What? But... fuck, I was so sure...

Sighing and defeated, Adam sat on the bed: I can't believe it... Steve gave us a name. How did he know what weapon was used?

Angel: Turns out this David guy has a few cousins in our police force... they've been telling him shit.

Lucifer: Unbelievable...

Alastor: Their being punished... but with the killers DNA in the system, we can keep running a matching process every few days. If they ever get arrested, we'll be able to match the DNA.

Adam signed: And if he doesn't get arrested?

Angel: Don't look so sad about it, babe. You'll catch the sick fuck. I know it.

Serial Killer x FBI Agent

Bonus points: Lucifer is the senior agent training Adam and is also the killer he's training Adam to find.

Stalking

Possessive behavior

He would (and will) kill for Adam

How did you know I love problematic!Lucifer?

Poor Adam just wants to do his job, and now he has a serial killer after him.

[chirpsythismorning]

You basically sabotaged the whole day.

Seconds after El literally just got assaulted…

But no Mike’s hung up on Will moping being the cause of the day sucking even though Mike looked pretty much unbothered in all those moments he’s referring to

[katabay]

some other fake byzantine empire ocs! completely unrelated to the other ones, these guys are for a story focusing on the viscera of the imperial household

[fearandhatred]

if aziraphale doesn't grab crowley by his gay little scarf in season 3 then what's the point. why does he even wear it. take that shit off if it's not important to the plot

[blackwaves]

considering this forever btw. gestures at how the first time we see fyodor, he's playing mindgames and tricking ace into killing himself so that fyodor is able to walk out unhindered.

thinking about how much chapter 42 relied upon his lie about the Rules Of The Game (his lie about how his ability worked) and upon ace believing it. tearing up the page would be profoundly stupid from the "this is a secret tool that'll help us later" manga and from one of bsd's 5d-chessmasters; i think it's fake, but i also believe that everything going on (including the final panel of atsushi looking at his hallucination of dazai) further supports that The Book Doesn't Work How We Think It Does.

more and more convinced that the book doesn't work how we were initially told it does—the information was sourced from fyodor, who (1) is a lying liar who lies (2) gets more suspicious as each chapter goes on. tearing up the page would be a stupid move for plain spite, and it contradicts multiple things we know iirc. atsushi as the bookmark indicates that it works differently than we thought as well. anyway this is just to say asagiri What are you doing...

[ruegarding]

so. percy's arc in boo (learning to step back, allowing leo to sacrifice himself despite his loyalty/fatal flaw) sucks. for many reasons.

for one, percy yielding is such an integral part of pjo. all of pjo. but even if u somehow missed it in the first four books, tlo explicitly spells it out. "sometimes the hardest power to master is the power of yielding" hestia says to percy. "i yield when necessary. can you do this?" and then this is the climax of the story. "you are not the hero...it will affect what you do." percy has spent the last five books being told that he's the super powerful chosen one able to save or destroy the world, and he still chooses to yield to someone that has done nothing but betray him. "the line from the great prophecy echoed in my head...my whole world tipped upside down, and i gave the knife to luke." hoo acting like this is a lesson percy needs to learn is an affront to reading comprehension. percy lives bc he yields. and then he does it (yielding) again when he surrenders godhood, and power, to choose other demigods instead. this is not subtle writing.

for two, percy has rejected power, and his title, for the entirety of his story. percy doesn't even fully recognize how powerful he is until the volcano in botl. and he had to be told directly that it wasn't a fluke. then in son, percy immediately rejects the power and status offered to him. repeatedly. reyna offers him praetorship, he turns it down. frank is abt to let percy climb the wall first in the war games, percy says it was frank's claim. percy doesn't even want to go on the son quest but relents bc frank asked him. in moa, percy never demands that he lead. instead, he includes frank where he probably wasn't necessary, supports hazel, encourages annabeth, follows leo and piper's lead, and strategizes w jason. he isn't acting as a leader, but rather as part of a team. percy didn't need to "step back," the writing for the other characters needed to step up.

for three, percy had to be kidnapped and manipulated to be on this entire quest. he's not there bc he has a hero complex. acting like he has to learn to step back when he was quite literally shoved into place is wild.

for four, an integral part of percy's character is freedom, autonomy, and he extends this to the ppl he's loyal to. this is pretty explicitly established in tlt: "you're enough like me to understand," sally says. "if my life is going to mean anything, i have to live it myself." percy respects ppl's decisions. this is one of the first lessons he learns when he becomes a hero and an integral part of pjo: percy has to let sally save herself. percy has to let tyson go to the boiler. percy has to let bianca defeat talos. percy has to let nico walk away. percy has to let annabeth fight. if he loves them, he's going to let their lives mean something. even in hoo, percy still lets annabeth go on her quest alone, despite hating it, despite disagreeing w it, bc it's not his place to tell her what she can and can't do. this is her life. she has to live it. so this plotline doesn't even work it we ignore all of pjo and focus solely on hoo.

this theme of autonomy is especially important bc pjo is abt disability. one of the first things ppl try to take away from u when ur disabled is ur autonomy. the fact that percy vehemently defends it not just for himself but for others is essential to the narrative. percy advocates for other demigods, other disabled kids, and tyson, and he does so while maintaining their autonomy. it's why he's the leader, it's why he's the protagonist, it's why there is a callback to it in every pjo book. trying to act like he wouldn't respect someone's autonomy is a bastardization of this entire theme. which is actually fitting for hoo considering it bastardizes the rest of pjo anyway.