#← i will never elaborate what does it mean

[little-jana]

"Soft Words in a Loud World"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma (vague, non-explicit), hurt/comfort

Summary: You don’t like shouting—haven’t for as long as you can remember. But Spencer knows. And Spencer never does.

a/n: requested by anon! Thank you, hope u like it! 💞

The first time Spencer saw you flinch at raised voices, he didn’t say anything.

He just noticed.

It was during a briefing, when Hotch had snapped out orders a little too sharply in response to a particularly frustrating case. It wasn’t directed at you, but that didn’t matter. The moment the tension spiked, you had gone quiet, your shoulders stiff, your gaze locked onto a fixed point on the table.

You hadn’t reacted too noticeably—probably not enough for most people to pick up on it.

But Spencer wasn’t most people.

And Spencer noticed everything.

After that, he made sure to be careful.

Not obviously, not in a way that would make you feel singled out. Just small things—lowering his voice when he spoke to you, never raising it even when he got passionate about a subject (which, let’s be honest, was often). If the team was in a heated discussion, he’d subtly shift his body so he was blocking you from the worst of it.

He never asked about it. Never pried.

But you knew he knew.

And you were grateful.

It wasn’t until months later that you brought it up.

You and Spencer were sitting on his couch, legs stretched out over a mess of books and case files. The TV was on, playing some old sci-fi movie that neither of you were really paying attention to.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you,” you murmured.

Spencer blinked, looking up from the book in his lap. “For what?”

You hesitated.

“For… never shouting,” you admitted, your voice softer than before.

Spencer frowned slightly. “I wouldn’t have a reason to shout at you.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “But I mean, even when things get intense. Or frustrating. You always…” You gestured vaguely. “You just don’t.”

His expression shifted—understanding settling in like it always did when he pieced things together.

“I just don’t like it,” you said, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I never have.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, considering his words.

Then, gently, “Did something happen?”

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. A long time ago.”

You didn’t elaborate. You didn’t have to.

Spencer nodded, as if that was all he needed to know.

“I get it,” he said simply. “Loud voices can be overwhelming. They change the whole atmosphere of a room. Even if they’re not directed at you, it can still feel like a threat.”

Your breath caught slightly.

Because, yeah.

That was exactly it.

You glanced at him, and Spencer gave you a small, knowing smile. “It’s not the same thing,” he admitted, “but I don’t like shouting either. Growing up, I used to get overwhelmed in loud environments. Too much stimulation all at once.” He tapped his temple lightly. “My brain doesn’t filter external stimuli the way most people’s do. Everything just… comes in at the same volume.”

That made sense. You’d always known Spencer had a hard time with crowded spaces and loud noises.

“I just learned to cope with it,” he continued. “But I always preferred quiet.”

You studied him for a moment, warmth filling your chest. “Guess that’s why we get along so well.”

Spencer smiled. “Guess so.”

And that was it.

No prying. No pushing.

Just understanding.

Just Spencer.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

You never had to ask him to be gentle with his words.

He just was.

[luvst4rc0r3]

"The Unexpected Couple"

Loser!Jinx x Reader

Nobody saw it coming. Nobody.

It was like one day, Jinx was just the chaotic loser that everyone tolerated at best—and the next? She was dating you. You. The person everyone actually liked, the one who had their life together, the one who could walk into a room and make people listen.

People thought it was a joke at first. A prank. Some kind of elaborate bet. But then they saw the way Jinx looked at you—like you were the sun and she was just some dumb little planet orbiting around you, completely at your mercy.

And the way you looked at her? Yeah. You were just as gone.

People’s Reactions:

Vi:

“Are you being blackmailed? Blink twice if you need help.”

She genuinely cannot wrap her head around it. Jinx, her loser little sister, who once ate an entire bag of uncooked pasta for fun, is somehow dating you? She thought it was fake until she saw you casually kiss Jinx on the cheek one day.

She short-circuited. Nearly dropped her protein shake. Stared at Jinx for a solid ten seconds before going,

“WHAT. THE. HELL.”

Sevika:

Doesn’t care much, but when she sees you cuddling up to Jinx at lunch, she just takes a long sip of her drink and mutters,

“This timeline is broken.”

Your Friends:

“Be honest. Did you lose a bet?”

“Are you okay? Like… mentally?”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LIKE HER?”

It’s not that they hate Jinx—it’s just that she’s Jinx. She forgets homework exists and once tried to teach a pigeon how to skateboard.

You just laugh and say, “Yeah, but she’s my idiot.”

And then Jinx, who overheard the whole thing, proceeds to melt into a puddle of emotions.

 Your Teachers:

Your math teacher literally pulled you aside one day like,

“You’re such a bright student. Don’t let… distractions ruin your potential.”

Meanwhile, Jinx is in the background, chewing on a pen, 100% unaware that she’s the distraction in question.

Your Relationship in School:

PDA? Oh yeah. Jinx never cared about being subtle in the first place, but now that she has you? She’s insufferable. Walks you to class even though she’s late for her own. Steals your hoodies and wears them oversized because, “They smell like you.” Leaves dumb doodles in your notebooks (half of them are just little hearts with your name in them). Jinx is constantly showing off. And by “showing off,” I mean doing the dumbest, most reckless stunts imaginable. If there’s a terrible idea, she’s already doing it before you can stop her.

Jinx: “Bet I can jump from this stairwell and land perfectly.”

You: “Jinx, no—”

Jinx: [proceeds to fall flat on her face]

You: “Oh my god.”

And yet, you’re always the first one helping her up, laughing as you brush off the dirt from her hoodie.

She falls harder every time.

She thrives off making you blush. For someone who is usually a mess, Jinx is unexpectedly bold when it comes to flirting.

One day, you’re minding your own business when she leans in and whispers, “You look really good today.”

You turn red. She grins like she just won the lottery.

“I make you nervous, don’t I?”

She does. She really, really does.

Nobody gets how you put up with her. She’s always late, never does her homework, and is basically a human raccoon. But when she falls asleep in your lap during study hall, drooling on your sweater, you just shake your head and pull her closer.

Because yeah, she’s a disaster. But she’s your disaster.

MAN IM JUST TRYING TO LOAD ALL OF MY DRAFTS

I want food and sleep

[catscidr]

// so, if the harbingers are ranked by strength... //

i. note — omg heyyyy guysss tucks hair behind ear. haven't seen this format in a while huh :3 wonder why that is :3 oopsieee :3 i would apologize for not posting anything of substance but i do that every time i post something anyways so i won't do it this time. enjoy my brainworms ii. includes — dottore x gn!reader iii. cw — crack, slightly suggestive at times, established relationship, lowercase is intended. catscidr being unserious as per usual. not proofread im thinking with my dick iv. wc — 1,2k -> ao3 link!

from the very beginning of your relationship with him, you perceived dottore as knew dottore was way more of a recluse than the average man. 

(not that he can even be compared to the average man anyways, but... regardless.) 

your perception of him has always been of a wise, intelligent man (you would describe him as nerdy to get under his skin). you have an easy time picturing him hunched over an ornate desk while jotting down lab reports, or even imagining him elbow-deep into a carcass to study its organs—all things you doubt an extroverted, energetic person would willingly put themselves through day after day. 

which is why you never batted an eye when you would wake up to a cold bed in the morning. you didn’t question him when he would tell you that he just has to get to work early, because you already had an inkling that you knew why he decided to leave the comfort of your shared bed at such ungodly hours. 

going to his lab before dawn breaks would allow him to be alone and to enjoy some peace and quiet before his underlings and segments turn the comfortable silence in his office to a muffled cacophony of arguments. surely, being as driven as he is, he would sacrifice a few hours of sleep (and comfort beside you) to further the myriad of projects he has to keep on the backburner. 

the walk to his office is quiet; save for the occasional chill passing through the halls, you find a sense of comfort in being within your beloved’s personal quarters—as if you’re enveloped in a big, warm hug by yours truly. you’ve visited his laboratory enough times to know your way around, so instead of feeling like a lost deer faced by bright headlights, you stroll on through the familiar halls with a pep in your step. 

the lack of personnel makes your already short trek even shorter, seeing as you don’t have to halt for small talk, and you’re promptly met by sight of the large, ornate oak door separating dottore’s office to his lab. 

you forego knocking—you’re supposed to catch him hard at work, come up from behind and engulf him in a loving hug and pepper him with kisses—knocking would reveal the surprise! 

and so, you carefully hold onto the flat doorknob, turning it until it’s vertical, and step into his office. 

you’ve always pictured him as the nerdy loser-esque type outside of that intimidating harbinger facade—what you never in a million years would have imagined was the sight of il dottore himself on a Stairmaster machine, a stapled document in hand, while practically sweating the entirety of his water weight away. 

naturally, you’ve seen him bare before; though all previous moments of intimacy had been limited to the two of you either beneath your bedsheets and/or your bodies being just barely visible due to the lack of sunlight shining through your bedroom window. he wasn’t one to show off his body, and you never questioned that boundary. 

but, while you stood there in shock unable to think of anything, a little voice in your head was appalled that he had the gall to hide this from you especially after you’ve inquired about the meaning behind his and his coworkers’ rankings before. 

(“hey 'ttoreeeee,” you drawl, stirring the small decorative spoon in your coffee. a quiet, drawn-out sigh graces your ears before his voice does, “what?” 

“how are you second?” you ask somewhat vaguely, choosing to take a bite out of your muffin before elaborating further. “i mean, you’re a pretty normal guy compared to the other high-ranking harbingers. capitano looks like he came straight from the medieval times, and columbina looks like a fucked-up interpretation of a seraphim that came to life.” 

a scoff—one of amusement you’re sure—breaches his lips. “i left all of my unique features to my segments,” he hums. dottore leisurely sips his drink, a twinkle of humor lighting up his scarlet irises. “but either way, it would be quite shallow of the tsaritsa if she appointed our ranks based on physical appearance. we’re all ranked by strength, essentially.” 

you hum, thrown deep in thought. capitano makes sense since he’s built like a brick wall, and columbina is an entire enigma in it of itself. since there’s no way they’re only based on influence and intellect, that means... 

“could you, hypothetically, drop down and do fifty push-ups without breaking a sweat?”  

the man sitting across from you laughs, the reaction filling you with anticipation. but much to your dismay, dottore didn’t take the opportunity to honor his ranking. instead, he just took another dip of his drink and answered with a casual; 

“perhaps.”) 

and by the tsaritsa he could have given you fifty and then some. 

though you knew your way around, you had never truly explored his personal office. he had shown you the main laboratory area where a plethora of ruin guard parts threaten to trip you over at all times, a handful of dissection rooms, and his segments’ working quarters. they were the most popular parts of haeresys and you had no business waltzing around unsupervised anyways, so he didn’t think you would find much interest within his own personal gym. 

the room itself was huge; if you hadn’t known otherwise, you would have absolutely thought this was some sort of luxury fitness center. there’s only one of each machine (which makes sense given you highly doubt dottore would let anyone else in the gym with him), but that didn't make the place any less furnished. 

there’s your standard dumbbell and kettlebell rack alongside a bench with multiple heavy plates nearby, a treadmill, a lat pull down machine, a leg press machine and so much more. there’s even some stuff you’ve never even seen before— 

“what are you doing here?” 

his voice abruptly pulls you out of your state of shock, forcing you to look at him and oh my god you can see the outlines of his muscles through his shirt. 

you swallow before speaking, knowing your voice would crack; to no avail. “i, uh, i just. w-well...” you murmur sheepishly, brain absolutely fried from whatever this was. 

pausing his set and putting down whatever work-related document he was reading, dottore turns his full attention to you. “i’m a little busy over here, dear,” he sighs. “i only have...” ruby irises glance over at the wall, catching sight of the clock reading the time, “...an hour and fourteen minutes before i need to head to a meeting. are you going to spit it out or will i have to reboot your brain for you?” 

oh so now he’s sassing you. 

“well excuse ME, I’M not the one hiding an olympian physique from my partner!” you complain, feeling a mix of embarrassment, frustration and very strong attraction. yes, you had felt his body up before, but feeling and seeing are two completely different things...! 

“well, are you mad about it?” 

“...” 

you pick up your jaw before you start drooling and take the time to let your eyes roll over his body. his biceps were defined, forearms looked delicious, pecs looked squishy, quads looked utterly biteable... not only did he look good objectively, but seeing him in casual clothes—a simple tee shirt and loose pants—made you feel a certain type of way... 

“...can you drop down and give me a hundred push-ups and also say my name between each one?” 

[six-white-venus]

the problem with living in survival mode for all your developmental years is that when it finally does get better, you don't know what the fuck to do with yourself.

"you're still so childish," my mom had chided fondly one day when i was laughing at a crude joke that wasn't all that funny and i had to hold myself back from asking, "really?"

because in all honesty, i don't really know what it means to be a child. i didn't even know happiness before now, and i've never lived a day without the sheer intensity of my emotions crushing me. have i ever been a child? i don't know, because this is how i remember my life so far:

me, aged 6, sitting in front of the TV with my cold plate of food, watching dora the explorer

Sad.

and now

i'm still getting used to the novelty of having a full night's sleep everyday and not waking up wanting to kill myself, what do you mean i have to figure out what to do with my life? i have been handed something that i never wanted, that i never dared to hope for, and i hold this life in my palms with all the care i can muster with my jagged edges and freezing skin.

i'm living life in non-chronological order. i was 37 before i was 15, i am now 13 when i'm supposed to be 20. sometimes i feel older than life and so, so tired. the other day i found myself being hit with a wave of jealousy so large that i couldn't breathe for a second while looking at a 14 year old because i would never be able to have what she does. and it really is a new low, hating a middle schooler just a little because when i was 14 my biggest concern wasn't failing math but keeping myself from breaking my clean streak of two days by reaching for the kitchen knife. it's disorienting to walk around trying to 'act my age' because i feel like i'm in a whole new world than everyone else. everyday i'm made to write a surprise quiz that everyone but me was informed about. not everyone knows how to walk someone down the ledge. barely anyone fists their hands on their lap while listening to lectures on mental health thinking wrong, wrong, wrong that's not how depression works, that's not how children who want to die think, that's not the only reason for a young person to lose themself, that's not how misery feels on your skin, on your tongue. wrong, wrong, WRONG.

no, i don't know my plans for the future but i do know how to carry the weight of the world in my chest and how to hide finger nails bitten till raw and red and how to write with blood and how to cover it all up with a smile and- all of that is useless? oh. oh.

it feels like an elaborate joke, almost; like the universe is having a good laugh at my expense because the world is asking for a sculpture and all i have are my barely healed hands and a broken clay pot that has no hope of being salvaged. it's not about falling behind in the race, it's about being shoved into a goddamn marathon when you haven't even learned to walk yet. and no, dragging myself to the finish line on all fours with scraped knees and palms shredded by gravel is no longer an option.

how the hell do you live when all you know is to survive?

but really, it's not as bad as i'm making it sound, at least not all of it. this liminal space that hangs between childhood and adulthood and everything that comes before and after that, it's not awful. yeah, i'm still not sure if i will get into med school, but i'm falling a little bit in love with the sound of my laugh. i might have a huge void in my head where the last 6 years should be, but i'll never forget the laugh that bubbled out of my chest when my doctor halved my med dosage. i still carry my grief like a cloak over my shoulders but i've been leaving it behind in my house more and more because it's getting too warm for anything more than a t-shirt these days.

and after all that, the question still remains: what the hell do i do now?

laugh with my friends, maybe. make a mean cup of tea. learn everything all over again, from the start. smile till it sits on my face like it always belonged there. go to sleep early, because that's something i like doing these days.

what do i do now? i ask my mom and she tells me to help her with lunch. what do i do now? i ask my sister and she tells me to shut up and listen to the latest gossip from her class. what do i do now? i ask my best friend and he throws me his phone without looking and tells me to order whatever i'm craving.

what do i do now? i ask and they all say, isn't it obvious? you start living.

[vashtijoy]

Hi! I was wondering if you’ve translated the “this is no small potatoes” line from 2/2, where it later got changed to “this isn’t trivial” ? I love the scene so I’m curious if there is another layer of nuance in their discussion in the Japanese version

(Wow, this post was just hanging out in my drafts, totally written. Be free, little post. yeah, it's not little)

Hi anon! I currently have no thoughts of any kind and have forgotten most of what I ever knew, but I love this small sequence so much that I'm going to try to elaborate on it.

In short: these lines are the capstone of Joker and Akechi's arc. They run right back through the third semester to the Jazz Club, and right back to his confidant. They're the emotional heart of them.

Akechi 君は変わらず、丸喜と戦う道を選べばいい。 kimi wa kawarazu, Maruki to chigau michi o erabeba ii All you have to do is stick to your guns and challenge Maruki. [lit. if you choose a different path to Maruki without wavering, it'll be fine.]

First off, here's another instance of that "choose your own path" motif, elided from the localisation. This is not just associated with Akechi in P5, but he really does hammer it home.

now freeze: the callback to conf 7

Conf 7 is probably my favourite confidant stage, and I've discussed it before at some length. Specifically, we're looking at the phone call afterwards, where Akechi sums up what they've discussed:

Akechi 僕らにはお互い譲れないものがあって、そのためにも負けられない。 bokura ni wa otagai yuzurenai mono ga atte, sono tame ni mo makerarenai Neither of us can afford to lose, because we fight in service of our principles. It's the same for both of us. Neither of us can afford to lose, because of these principles we won't concede. ⋯だからこそ、もしも君が自分を曲げたりしたら絶対に赦さないよ。 … dakara koso, moshi mo kimi ga jibun o magetari shitara zettai ni yurusanai yo And that is precisely why… I cannot allow you to change. … And that's precisely why, if you betrayed yourself that way… I couldn't allow it. だって、僕が負けたくないのは『君』なんだから。 datte, boku ga maketakunai no wa "kimi" nan da kara As you are now, as you think now… I cannot allow you to win over me.

This phone call, which likely takes place the evening after Akechi's murder phone call, summarises how Akechi sees Joker, at the start of the Sae mission—and it's a remarkably positive vision. Conf 7 highlights the similarities between Joker and Akechi, before conf 8 casts their differences into sharp relief.

In fact, in his determination to illustrate why the two of them can never be friends, Akechi reveals something he may not quite have intended: the things he most admires about Joker are his loyalty and his devotion to his friends.

Seriously. Joker's devotion to his confidants is the thing Akechi sets alongside his own obsession that has driven him to murder. I don't have space to lay the whole thing out here, but you should check the conf 7 essay out if you have time.

january in the jazz club

This image of Joker as an impenetrable fortress with indomitable will comes up again in the jazz club, and rather indirectly:

Akechi こんな異常事態でも 君がまともで助かったよ。 konna ijou jitai demo kimi ga matomo de tasukatta yo I'm glad you're still normal, even in this bizarre situation. Even in such a bizarre situation as this, you've saved your sanity. Akechi 君まで正気を失ってたら… まあ、その時は叩き起こしてただろうけど。 kimi made shouki o ushinattetara... maa, sono toki wa tatakiokoshiteta darou kedo If even you had lost it… Well, if that happened, I would have slapped you awake.

The logic of the first line has been slightly altered in translation. It's not a huge shift, but it's changed the emphasis—rather than being glad Joker hasn't lost it like the others, Akechi is observing it. He expected it. He would have expected no less of his rival. (That matomo de, by the way, is far more often seen as matomo de nai, and it means that someone is not sane.)

This follows straight on from conf 7—from the idea Akechi has that Joker is someone dependable. And more than that—if Joker should cease to be that way, Akechi views it as his duty to set him straight.

He said so in conf 7's phone call (that "I cannot allow you to change", which is actually far more like, "if you gave way, I couldn't allow it") And he's saying the same thing here: "if you lose yourself, I'll slap you awake."

This gives us a little additional context for 2/2.

back to 2/2

Here's Akechi's next line:

Akechi それとも、君はこの程度で意志を曲げるようなやつなのか? soretomo, kimi wa kono teido de ishi o mageru you na yatsu na no ka? Or, are you really so spineless that you’d fold over some bullshit, trivial threat on my life?

There is a small linguistic callback here to that conf 7 phone call—Akechi uses the same verb 曲げる mageru, meaning to bend or distort, or to give way on a point of principle. The localisation has it as "fold", which does call back to conf 7, but to the wrong part! In conf 7, mageru referred to Joker's principles yielding under pressure, giving way under influence; here, it's in the extended form ishi o mageru—literally to bend one's will, to have it give way or crumble.

This word 意志 ishi is the "will" of Will Seeds, of the will to rebellion; this is the thing Akechi is calling Joker out on sacrificing. This is the thing he believes is so much more important than his own life. This is the callback here, through the jazz club and the phone call to that November night outside Penguin Sniper, to "You're my rival."

Literally, Akechi's line here is "or are you the sort of guy whose will crumbles for as little as this?". Compared to his image of Joker, Akechi's life is nothing. Compared to his image of Joker, the whole world is probably nothing. Again, it's the ideal and the real; 2/2 is when Akechi's image of Joker runs headlong into the reality of him, of a real, breathing, living boy who hurts and cries and bleeds and dies, rather than an icon. Even 11/20 never truly brings this home, because Joker escapes—just as conf 7 suggests Akechi expected him to. It is integral to the pedestal Akechi has Joker on that he would never throw the world aside for Akechi.

This is why it's only rank 10 promise Akechi, primed for the third awakening, who shows up to Leblanc to defend that pedestal. This is why the translation I return to for this line is "Or are you telling me you'd throw away everything you believe in for nothing at all?" Akechi's life is not the point here; he barely mentions it. The point here is supposed to be what Joker is throwing away.

And it's Joker, of course, not Akechi, who refocuses the conversation to what—to who—is really being thrown away.

joker's response

Joker 『この程度』じゃない “kono teido” ja nai This isn't "trivial"! You're not "nothing"!

There are other responses, of course, but this is the big one. This is the one that used to be "This isn't small potatoes"—and I hope I've illustrated why that translation was so bad that Atlus went back in and changed it. Because as well as gutting Akechi's lines of their context, that line gutted this whole moment, the pinnacle of Joker and Akechi's story, of its emotional impact.

Joker simply was not saying that things were a little bit serious—not small potatoes. He was saying Akechi mattered. You could easily render that kono teido ja nai as, simply, "But you matter." and that really isn't small potatoes

An overlooked response here is the third one, the only one Akechi will accept:

[Joker] 意思は曲げない ishi wa magenai I won't fold. My will won't break.

Yep. This one bypasses all Akechi's complaints about mercy, about betrayal, as he cuts to the chase:

Akechi なら、もう分かってるだろ? nara, mou wakatteru daro? Then you already know what needs to be done…

Note that the Japanese is a question—"Then you already know what needs to be done, right?". And it leads directly into Akechi's final demand: "What do you intend to do?"

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (22nd February 2025)—first posted.

v1.1 (22nd February 2025)—correct kanji for ishi.

[muqingslover]

what are the mentioned controversial thoughts about rafayel, if u don't mind sharing?

hello! I noticed quite a few people took interest in that, but guys it's really not anything serious haha! I said controversial just because I don't wanna step on any toes. I'll elaborate on it in general but this is just *MY* opinion.

His story is suuuper angsty and filled with betrayal from MC's side (though she was being manipulated and all that) it's clear that while he does love MC he hasn't fully forgiven her and I don't think he ever will to be honest. He suffered so much because of someone he loves yet he comes back to them but I feel like it's more out of craving, maybe even compulsion, since otherwise all he went through and lost would mean nothing.

Now I'm not saying he doesn't love MC because he absolutely does, I'm just saying the amount of pain he went through caused serious damage and he is allowed to feel hurt and resentful. In-game he's also said a few times about how MC doesn't understand him and I think it's connected to that, how she never fully saw him as a whole. She sees only what he shows her.

I think Rafayel is the only LI I just don't really see with a happy ending because ultimately MC will have to face the consequences of the damage done to him as a whole and he will also have to admit to himself that he doesn't only love her. It's like a love hate relationship by his side and he'd feel conflicted a lot, which I personally like (the angstier the better for me) but I know most people have a mentality where the LI is not allowed to "dislike" the MC and only happy endings are good endings.

Oh I'm still catching up on his lore though! if you guys know more then feel free to share it! I'm always looking for lore blogs or videos so send me them if you know any :)

[intuitive-revelations]

Hmmm....

Thematically i kind of liked that.

But man that plot was... not good.

[fruityfroggy]

Okay but, why are Medpoc’s arms kinda…toned? Like,

WTF GOYLY POPS?

They’re flexing every fckin muscle in annoyance in this scene, the Lucy beef is just that real

[dustykneed]

who’s your most favorite non Star Trek blorbo? :)

hilariously non-fandom (ish) but... mr john keating (dead poets society)! keating/mcallister is one of my favorite ships actually hahah. i know most people ship the boys but i guess i just made a beeline for the old married couple (as always xDD). i have this whole fix-it au for dps... 6k words of complete self indulgence and counting <333

[musingsunderstarlight]

To accuse radfems of deeming the current transgender rhetoric as their single most important issue is wildly wrong and misogynistic. I have not seen a single radfem on here blogging only about trans people, aside from blogs that are specifically for “receipts” documenting the endless bullying, harassment and violent threats that these people hurl at women every day. Radblr is where I learned so much more about issues affecting all women all around the world, why they happen, and the infinite number of ways in which all of our problems are rooted in the single common thread that is male supremacy.

“TERF” is a word meant to be used only as a silencing tactic because it is an oxymoron. You cannot be a radical feminist who “excludes” (more on that word later) all trans people by nature of female people who identify as trans men. Progressives have come to use TERF on any woman (notably never a man) who spouts any transgender-critical opinion, even the ones who openly declare they are not feminists. Again, this is because it is meant as a silencing tactic.

Furthermore, it is extremely misogynistic to call a branch of feminist theory “exclusionary” because it means you do not believe women should be allowed to advocate for their own rights. Something cannot be exclusionary if it was never meant for you. Are prominent black activists being “exclusionary” for not talking about, say, white rappers in their activism? Not to mention that your examples of women being exclusionary are typically relegated to women’s reactions to the erosion of women-only spaces. If anyone can be a woman, and self-ID carries no risks, then you should be opposed to sex/gender segregation entirely. But if you believe that it’s necessary for trans women, then what is your approach for protecting women (and trans women by your logic) from men who could “pretend” to be trans in order to gain access to women’s spaces? If you don’t think it’s necessary, then clearly trans women have no urgent need to be in women’s-only spaces. Just saying that it doesn’t happen isn’t true, and saying it’s “rare” means you think that some women are ok to be sacrificed in the name of males who say they are women.

Why are trans people’s single most important enemy the women who simply want rights for females and not the overwhelming majority of attackers and rapists of trans women which are men?

“How are you oppressed by roughly 800,000 people, who hold basically zero societal power at the current moment, and are actively targeted by the current political situation?”

This question is an egregious, vile dismissal of all women and a perfect illustration of how people like you are so steeped in misogyny as elaborated above. Again, no feminist is out here attacking, raping, murdering or discriminating against transgender women. We are not denying them jobs or housing, nor do we support such discrimination. You cannot meaningfully analyze the inherent homophobia of men towards all gender-nonconforming males without the acknowledgement of female people as a sex class and patriarchy as a structural system meant to favor males. Simply because the oppressor class also oppresses groups within their own class does not make those groups women. Gender-nonconforming men are no exception. Pretending that male supremacy does not exist does not help the countless number of gay men who undergo transition in order to alleviate the sex dysphoria that is caused by the gender dynamics in patriarchy that places the female sex as synonymous with femininity/submission and the male sex with masculinity/domination.

Feminists, especially lesbians and GNC women, have historically been outspoken supporters of GNC men. But then your side chose to accuse men afflicted with sex dysphoria of being trans-medicalists. You chose to prioritize the feelings of men who said “I can participate in feminine gender stereotypes and call myself female for this reason alone.”

After all your misdirected anger at women for the way a small group of males are treated by other males you ask, “How are you oppressed?” How can you not call it oppression when you tell women they are no longer female? That they are not allowed to have the language to talk about issues that specifically impact them for being female? That it’s ok if some of us are routinely sacrificed to males with a fetish? That little girls who get their genitalia cut off is the same as a man who is bullied for wanting to wear makeup? YOUR SIDE chose to attack us for simply existing and cried victim when we spoke up about it. Give me a fucking break.

Welcome to RadicalFeministRoots, a space dedicated to deconstructing patriarchy from its very core and addressing the societal domination of women by men.

Here, we dive into the radical roots of feminism, exploring its historical foundations, key thinkers, and revolutionary practices that resist the existing political and social systems. We critique patriarchal institutions, from the nuclear family to the state, and envision a world free from oppressive gender roles.

We support trans-inclusive, intersectional radical feminism, rejecting TERF ideology, and focusing on solidarity across all movements for liberation.

[chipistrate]

I'm not even upset that Vanessa and Mike are in love or whatever- I'm really just upset that they're rushing into it

Vanessa refers to their meeting as a "meet cute" and Mike tries to kiss her mid-trauma dump- like is that??? Really necessary????

Can we not wait until they know each other a bit better????? Have some nice character moments outside of their traumatic experiences at Freddy's?????????? Please???????????????

I'm just so sick of romance being rushed, can we PLEASE get some nice character moments before we start having the protagonists fall in love I'm BEGGING

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Of course, the relationship between Ellen and Orlok is toxic as hell. That should go without saying. Even her masturbating and him appearing as a shadow at her window during her teenage years is creepy. No one is denying that. I’m just refuting the common belief he was sexually assaulting her as a haunting and that she’s a passive victim of his, which is not the case. She’s the one who controls their communications. Like Lily-Rose Depp says there’s a mutual yearning there and Ellen is the one calling the shots the entire time. Only one has to breakdown the entire story to see what she means by this.

I don’t really like to apply moral standards to supernatural hauntings, but even Orlok appearing as a shadow at her window as she’s pleasuring herself is not exactly “cute”, is it? It’s sexual energy that conjures him, he’s a ghost, but still. Ellen herself doesn’t know this, because Victorian society doesn’t give her the language for her to understand her power (as Robert Eggers tells us in his interviews). And he basically kills everyone around her to force her to accept that her own power (death; him) will never be accepted by the living, because she was the one who cursed him, he’s a monster of her own creation.

Just because there’s a logic to his actions, doesn’t make them “good”. I’m just explaining what that logic is. He’s a cursed creature, a monster. He’s not a “sad vampire” but he doesn’t take any pleasure doing what he does (that’s why he says “I’m an appetite, nothing more” when Ellen accuses him of being a villain). I don’t know about “perfect man” because we don’t even know what his human personality was like, because his curse stripped him of his best human qualities; his passion and desire to merge souls with Ellen was the only “humanizing” trait he kept, and even that is destructive and obsessive for everyone around them. I don’t think this needs elaborate. It’s obvious in the film itself. She’s the reincarnation of his wife or lover (which is actually the most interesting bit to me, personally) but since Eggers didn’t expand on that and doesn’t want us to know the full backstory on his Orlok, we don’t even know how they were as a couple (maybe very passionate and sex-freaks, going by the overall vibe).

Thomas wants to be the good Victorian husband, and be like Friedrich Harding (the Victorian patriarch). It’s not his personality nor his character, per say, it’s the archetype that he represents in the story. Because personality-wise Thomas is naïve, and he just wants to be what society tells him to be. To him, being a good husband is being a provider (money) because that’s what Victorian society tells him. He got caught up in the middle of something he doesn’t understand and almost died. He believes what the Victorian doctors say about Ellen (she’s a “melancholic hysteric”) because he doesn’t know anything else. Like Ellen herself, Victorian society doesn’t give him the language to understand. He doesn’t understand because can’t. It’s not to due “bad will” on his part, he just can’t. This is what Robert Eggers tells us in his interviews. And since Ellen herself is also confused about her power, she’s not exactly the right person to make Thomas understand, either. And after what he went through with Orlok himself, of course he’ll assume the worst, and of course he doesn’t want Ellen anywhere near him. Ellen and Thomas are mismatched because they want different things; he wants status and money, and she doesn’t care about those things. Still, obviously he’s a healthier option. But Ellen power is death. That’s her deal with Orlok, it’s not love per say because he can’t love her wholly because of his curse.

After reaching the bottom of the story, the entire thing is almost a tapestry of characters misunderstanding each other and others dying because of it. The best example I can think of is Ellen and Orlok’s scene at the Harding household. She gives him entrance into the house not knowing she’s dooming everyone inside (and this was foreshadowed by the little girls saying “Papa! Don’t let her feed us to the monster!”), and they are talking about different things. Orlok arrives like “you summoned me, here I am”, while Ellen now believes he’s like a demon possessing her (because of what Von Franz said). This is why this story is not easy to analyze. Each character is talking about what they believe to be the truth, and not the actual truth of the story (exposition).

I actually blame the marketing campaign of “Nosferatu” (2024) for many of these bad takes. When you reach the truth behind this story you can see what bullshit this “possessed Ellen by Orlok” is. I don’t know who came up with this idea, but it’s deceiving the audience. Robert Eggers also doesn't talk about any of this in his own interviews. Orlok doesn’t possess Ellen like a demon, he doesn’t have that kind of power as a strigoi (not unless he has fed on his victims, like he did with Thomas, because he feeds off souls). Those “hysteric fits” are all on her, he only talks to her telepathically, inside of her head, and the film establishes this when you take the time to analyze it.

And the whole point of “Ellen’s possession scene” is her figure this out, when she tries to conjure him without sexual energy and he doesn’t an appearance; it’s not him possessing her, it’s all on herself, and she has been summoning him this entire time. That’s why she says “I’m unclean!” This scene was even marketed as “visit from a vampire” and that’s pure bullshit, too. Orlok is not in that scene; there’s zero visual or sound indication of this; he only appears as a shadow at the window later when Thomas is already asleep. I know that the “online script” says Orlok’s shadow passes through the room but not only that’s not in the actual scene, but the film itself declares that’s impossible because Orlok does not have entrance into this house, Ellen only gives him invitation at the end, by opening the window. He can’t enter that house without an invitation, and the film very clearly establishes that Orlok (like a regular vampire) has to be invited in, so this is another wrong thing about that script. Eggers is being very secretive about this story, don’t expect the atual script to be online; that’s probably the script for the marketing campaign or something. And even Professor Von Franz later comes to the conclusion it’s not a demon, it’s a Nosferatu, in this case a strigoi from Balkan folklore.

[liuisi]

everyday i restrain myself

[icewindandboringhorror]

The evil slow creep of it being like "haha these will just be quick little side quests, not much effort at all!" and then noticing each one is getting progressively longer than the last, thus no longer being minimal effort.. auGh....

[paleangels13]

Helloo, I still exist did anyone even notice I was mostly gone lol

Anyone interested in ehhh...slightly unhinged work-related talk?

No?

Well. Too bad

Anyone that knows me irl please ignore the tags – I'm embarrassed ✨🥰

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

hi mac!!! how's the jrwi campaign finale???? is it fun it looks fun :3

whiskey ive been clinging to the fact that real life person man grizzlyplays genuinely with his whole chest believes that penguins are not birds . he had to google it . this is the only thing keeping me sane