#I am not capable of being concise

[akirathedramaqueen]

Is the knowledge of magic gatekept by Hell's elite?

Time for another shitpost speculative analysis. And, suddenly, no conclusions—just some facts I’ve gathered about the topic from the show and a bunch of questions for you. Because this time, as much as I would’ve liked to deliver some hot details, there isn’t enough information yet, and I prefer not to claim anything without having at least some degree of certainty in it.

So let's just talk and make some fun, semi-educated guesses, shall we?

Yesterday, @tealvenetianmask released a wonderful post about Blitzø and his insecurity regarding his intelligence. Give it a read—it's a topic that isn’t discussed enough. One of the points raised was his limited access to education, which made me think.

Grimoire.

An infinitely powerful artifact possessed by Stolas Goetia is central to the series, at least before The Full Moon episode, as it is the only way for Blitzø to access the mortal realm. While it serves its own purposes for bringing together—and ultimately breaking apart—Stolas and Blitzø, it also has many interesting properties and details that allow us to speculate on magic as a whole.

It made me think: Who theoretically can use this grimoire or other spell artifacts? Why is it that no one but Stolas is permitted to use it? Are there genetic and/or biological reasons for this, or is the restriction societally driven?

Namely, would all hell beings be able to use magic if given the chance to learn it?

Let’s examine the evidence we have and try to answer at least some of these questions.

Clue one: Using the grimoire by anyone other than Stolas is illegal

It is clearly stated by Stolas himself in these two episodes.

You know, I have been... permitting you to access the mortal realm less than... legally for quite some time now? S1EP1, Murder Family, 8:31

You will be able to go anywhere you want in the human realm without fear of consequence. Without breaking demon law. You no longer need my grimoire. S2EP8, The Full Moon, 19:05

The question is, why? We know it’s not crucial to have Goetia blood to channel magic from the grimoire—Loona has read spells from it, as we'll discuss later.

Could the reason be that the Goetia family wants to keep their powerful artifacts a secret and maintain their hold on power?

Clue two: Magic books are written in runes

The grimoire and Stolas's book about Asmodean crystals are written in runes, suggesting the potential existence of a language barrier when sharing magic-related knowledge.

Left - S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 17:44 Right - S2EP1, The Circus, 19:45

It is oddly convenient if you want fewer people to understand the sacred information you wish to keep to yourself.

Clue three: Stolas does not need his grimoire to cast spells from it

It is briefly discussed in the Seeing Stars episode.

[Blitzo]: No chance you can conjure us a couple of those, can ya? [Stolas]: Sadly, no. I'm afraid without my grimoire, my powers are just a tad limited in the human world. [Blitzo]: What, you can't memorize your fucking spells? [Stolas]: Oh, your memory's so great?  S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 6:33

See, Stolas does not deny Blitzø's assumption and gets annoyed when his memory is belittled. Therefore, I believe we can safely deduce that it is indeed a matter of only remembering the necessary chants to cast a spell. It is still possible that the artifact holds power on its own and Stolas needs it to access magic in the mortal realm, but it doesn't seem like the absence of the book prevented him from making two poor little human beings soil their little fancy trousers.

S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 19:11

And he does not need the book to summon the portals, it is seen multiple times throughout the series.

S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 20:10

Not mentioning him performing small magic tricks quite regularly:

Left - S2EP6, Oops, 7:42 Right - S2EP8, The Full Moon, 2:00

So, can we make a conclusion the grimoire is not so unique after all, if to memorize all the spells? Not sure, because... okay, I promise, we will get back to it later.

Clue four: Loona can use the grimoire, even though she is a lower-class demon

And she can shapeshift without any artifacts, which might suggest she has more magical abilities than other members of I.M.P. Her ability to read runes is also noteworthy.

Shhhit! I can't... I can't read the spell in this light! I can't see dick! S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 17:43

Do you think she could become a skilled magician with proper education? It's quite impressive that she knows the rune language to begin with, given her origin!

Clue five: Blitzø, Millie, and Moxxie are never seen using the book

Is this accidental, or are they simply unable to use the book? If the latter, is it because they are physically incapable of channeling magic (e.g., due to being imps), or is it because they don’t understand the language of the spells?

I noticed them bantering about replacing Loona because of her horrible attitude once or twice (such as at the beginning of the Seeing Stars episode). Does this mean they could take on her responsibility of opening the portal, or is it just bluff? There’s no way to know for sure.

If I'm so terrible, how about you just grow a pair and replace me? S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 3:03

Clue six: The I.M.P. crew is never shown trying any spells from the book other than those for portals

I.M.P. never tries any spells other than opening the portal, which seems strange, especially since they could have used disguise spells, as mentioned earlier in clue three.

Is it because they physically can’t use other spells, or is it an unspoken rule not to meddle with a powerful artifact whose true implications they might not fully understand?

Clue seven: Without the grimoire, the I.M.P. crew is not able to access the mortal realm

And it is posed as a big deal—the whole Season 2 setup revolves around Stolas freeing Blitzø by calling off the transactional agreement and providing a grimoire replacement, the Asmodean crystal.

Official Music Video, Just Look My Way, 0:11

This seems to contradict clue three. Perhaps there are specifics we have yet to learn or understand.

Why? If simply remembering the spell is enough, they would only need the book once. If Loona can read runes, she could write the spells down when Blitzø stole it, making the entire ordeal unnecessary.

Maybe, just knowing the spell isn’t enough to use it without the book. Maybe, special education or training is needed to prepare the body for it. Or, maybe, being born into royalty is a prerequisite for channeling magic without artifacts.

Maybe, if not conclusions, let's at least make a guess?

So, here’s everything I’ve gathered on the matter.

Without additional information, it seems a bit contradictory, and I admit, I sometimes get the feeling these might be plot holes left because this isn’t the focus of the story. This would be surprising though, as the show is usually very detailed and well-built in terms of worldbuilding.

I’m going to try to fill in these gaps with my speculations, just for fun. Please don’t consider this as making any claims; it’s more about me engaging in some mental gymnastics because I’m a lore geek and love figuring out how the fictional world works in media.

So, my take on whether the knowledge is gatekept or not: in short, it is.

If not so short:

I speculate (like highly speculate, because I have no proof), that any hellbeing could theoretically learn and use magic. It might require certain genetic preconditions, natural talent, and extensive training, but success is possible to varying degrees;

Artifacts assist in channeling magic for those who are untrained—like the grimoire helps the I.M.P. crew open portals;

Magic knowledge is encoded in runes to complicate the learning process for those not taught in it;

This knowledge is kept secret and shared only within royal circles, with different branches having their own secret techniques and specialties;

There are also laws prohibiting the sharing of this knowledge with lower-class demons.

Why? It’s simple—power wouldn’t be power if it could be used by just anyone. Withholding resources and granting access to it only to the wealthy is a characteristic of non-democratic regimes, and, mind you, Hell is an absolute monarchy at best.

But what do you think? Share your opinion via poll, reblogs, and comments!

Instead of my usual funny giggles at the end, I’ll reiterate from my reblog yesterday:

FREE AND ACCESSIBLE EDUCATION FOR ALL

Because only by sharing knowledge and making it public can the community truly prosper.

[rythyme]

hello ok so i saw your recent ex-morning posts and like i watched sotus but i have No Idea what's going on at the moment. f it's not too much effort can you explain why the ex-morning stuff is so, i dunno how to say it, noteworthy, i guess? like just what's up maybe?

Tl;dr: The Ex-Morning is GMMTV's literal RPF with the serial numbers filed off, starring the actors from said RPF.

i'll do my best to explain more under the cut

ok let's do this

SOTUS and KristSingto were some of the biggest cash cows GMMTV has ever had. I would argue that the success of SOTUS in 2016 is the main reason we have a BL renaissance today.

Krist and Singto have not acted together since 2018. Until recently, it was assumed that they would never be paired up again.

There were rumors that they had a falling out, which supposedly explained why they stopped acting together. Mostly speculation, but who knows.

Krist made a poor taste comment a while back that led to him being somewhat "cancelled" for a few years. He only started dipping his toes back into BL last year.

Singto, on the other hand, never stopped acting in BLs and has had at least 6 on-screen male acting partners since then (maybe more if you count his one-sided crushes on Mike and Lee Thanat in Baker Boys, or whatever the hell was going on in Shadow). This is very notable, since the BL business model tends to keep acting pairs in the same "ship" for years at a time.

Acting pairs almost never "get back together" after getting a new male acting partner. The literal only exception I can think of is when Tay Tawan acted with Joss Wayar in 3 Will Be Free and then continued to act with New in DBK/Cherry Magic.

Despite everything, KristSingto is still extremely popular among fans to this day and is still one of the most popular "ships" of all time.

When Singto's schedule opened up, GMMTV finally got the opportunity to profit off of it again -- in the most intentional and transparent way possible.

The plot of The Ex-Morning -- exes reuniting and falling for each other again -- mirrors the careers and relationship of Singto and Krist. The fact that Krist's character has a publicity blunder and has to restore his reputation is even more fuel for the fire.

The director for The Ex-Morning is the same director who made SOTUS

The flashback in The Ex-Morning shows Krist and Singto with their signature iced coffee and pink milk, which intentionally calls back to their characters in SOTUS.

P'Aof, who is said to be writing some of the screenplay for The Ex-Morning, said that he wrote it to match Krist and Singto's relationship. This story was tailor made for them.

Conclusion: GMMTV is going for the SOTUS / KristSingto cash grab by essentially having Aof write some kind of amalgamation of KristSingto RPF and SOTUS post-canon future fic.

Do I know that it's a blatant cash grab? Yes. Will I will be watching it anyway because it looks low-key good in its own right? Also yes.

[chaos--mode]

@wingsxnlead embraced the chaos : What drew you to writing your current character(s)? Munday Questions. Send in a number(s) to get to know the mun better!

tldr; i relate to characters that: want to care for/protect others, have Big Sibling & Mom Friend energy, are queer<3, and/or highly value/revolve around platonic love & relationships.

omg okay SO

all of my stranger things guys feel like little pieces of me just broken off and grown from the bits. steve being a protector and having this intense Urge to take care of others, even if he's standoffish about it speaks to me, like i'm a Chronic Mom Friend and i have such a deep attachment to sibling relationships and platonic love, i collect people and i feel like steve does too. robin just... asdjhkajsf listen you give me a smart, nerdy queer character and i will loose my mind. for nancy i just love how she seems like this cookie cutter Good Girl and then is genuinely a super smart, self-sufficient badass. i adore her and i would die for her and she can and would step on me irl

for peter and claire (heroes) they were my favs as a kid when i first watched it, and rewatching it now i just. they have my entire heart. especially peter, again it just comes back to wanting to care for others and support others, sometimes at the detriment of yourself? like he's such a genuinely Good person, and other people take advantage of that and i just adkjgd i love him so much.

fringe is like. potentially one of my favourite shows ever. like the ending made me ugly sob, i just love everyone in that show so much. olivia dunham in particular lives in my heart because she's someone who is just so full of love, but she doesn't know what to do with it. like she struggles with showing it, with being vulnerable, but she craves it So Much because she is such a loving person. and then, y'know, there's more of that protector energy with her, always wanting to care for and take care of others. like she can be so soft and gentle when she needs to be.

for connor and sixty and north of detroit: become human, while i have a lot of issues with the plot and writing in that game (fuck d.avid c.age fr) they all have broken pieces of them, struggles with identity and freedom and agency that just really hit me.

i won't talk about any of my oc's individually because this is already ridiculously long and i would never shut up i fear lol all of my oc's have aspects of me in them, particularly some things i've struggled with in the past and really needed a way to explore and write about in a way that was removed from myself.

[whumpinggrounds]

Overused Disability Tropes

Woohoo here we go. I expect this one to be a bit more controversial because I am using specific media as examples. I would really prefer if, when critiquing this post, you avoid defending specific media, and focus instead on what’s actually being said/represented about disabled communities. If you feel I’ve done a really grave injustice, you can come into my askbox/DMs/replies to talk to me about it, but I might not answer.

One more time: I am not interested in getting into a debate about whether something is a good show/movie/book/whatever. I’m not telling you it’s bad, or that you shouldn’t enjoy it! People can like whatever they want; I am only here to critique messaging. Do not yell at me about this.

Newest caveat aside, let’s get into it!

Inspiration Porn

Without a doubt, our biggest category! Term coined in 2012 by badass activist Stella Young, but the trope has been around for literal centuries. There are a few different kinds that I will talk about.

Disabled character/person is automatically noble/good because of their disability. A very early example would be A Christmas Carol’s Tiny Tim, or, arguably, Quasimodo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Real life examples include the Jerry Lewis MDA telethon, or children’s hospital ads that exploit sad-eyed kids with visible illness or disability.

Having a disability does not automatically make you a kind/angelic/noble person. This many not seem harmful, and may even seem positive, but in reality, it is condescending, inaccurate, and sets bizarre standards for how disabled people should behave.

This portrayal is often intended to elicit pity from abled audiences, which is also problematic.

In these portrayals, disability is not something to be proud of or identify with, only something to be suffered through.

Disabled character person does something relatively mundane and we all need to celebrate that. This is less common in writing, but happens in the real world when people do things like post pictures of disabled people at the gym captioned “What’s your excuse?”

This is condescending, and implies that anything disabled people are capable of, abled people are automatically capable of.

Makes it seem like it’s an incredible feat for a disabled person to accomplish tasks.

Uses people’s actual lives and actual disabilities as a reminder of “how good abled life is.”

The “Supercrip” stereotype is a specific kind of inspiration porn in which disabled people are shown to be capable of amazing things, “in spite of” their disability.

The Paralympics have been criticized for this, with people saying that advertisements and understandings of the Paralympics frame the athletes as inspiring not because they are talented or accomplished, but because their talents and accomplishments are seen as “so unlikely.”

Other examples include the way we discuss famous figures like Stephen Hawking, Alan Turing, or even Beethoven. Movies like The Theory of Everything and The Imitation Game frame the subjects’ diagnoses, whether actual or posited, as limitations that they had to miraculously break through in order to accomplish what they did. Discussions of Beethoven’s deafness focus on how incredible it was that he was able to overcome it and be a musician despite what is framed as a tragic acquisition of deafness.

The pity/heroism trap is a concise way of defining inspiration porn. If the media you’re creating or consuming inspires these emotions, and only these emotions, around disability, that is a representation that is centered on the feelings and perceptions of abled people. It’s reductive, it’s ableist, and it’s massively overdone.

Disabled Villains

To be clear, disabled people can and should be villains in fiction. The problem comes when disabled people are either objects of pity/saintly heroes, or villains, and there is no complexity to those representations. When there is so little disabled rep out there (less than 3.5% of characters in current media), having a disabled villain contributes to the othering of disability, as well as the idea that disability can make someone evil. There are also a few circumstances in which particular disabilities are used to represent evil, and I’ll talk about how that’s problematic. 

Mentally ill villains are colossally overdone, particularly given that mentally ill people are more likely to be the victims of violence than perpetrators of it.  This is true of all mental illness, including “””scary””” things like personality disorders or disorders on the schizoaffective spectrum. Mental illness is stigmatized enough without media framing mentally ill people as inherently bad or more suspectible to evil. This prejudice is known as sanism.

Explicit fictional examples of this include the Joker, or Kevin Wendell Crumb in Split.

People can also be coded as mentally ill without it being explicitly stated, and that’s also problematic and sanist. In the Marvel movie Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness, Wanda’s appearance and behavior are coded as mentally ill. This is used to make her “creepy.” Horror movies do this a lot - mental illness does not render someone creepy, and should not be used as a tool in this way.

Visible disability or difference to indicate evil is another common, incredibly offensive, and way overdone trope. This is mostly commonly done through facial difference, and the examples are endless. These portrayals equate disability or disfigurement with ugliness, and that ugliness with evil. It renders the disabled villain in question an outcast, undesirable, and uses their disability or difference to dehumanize these characters and separate them from others. This is incredibly prevalent and incredibly painful for people with visible disability or facial difference.

An example of visible disability indicating evil is Darth Vader’s prosthetics and vastly changed physical appearance that happen exactly in time with his switch to the dark side. In contrast, when Luke needs a prosthetic, it is lifelike and does not visually separate him from the rest of humanity/the light.

Dr. Who’s John Lumic is another example of the “Evil Cripple” trope.

Examples of facial difference indicating evil range from just about every James Bond movie, to Scar in the Lion King, Dr. Isabel Maru in Wonder Woman, Taskmaster in Black Widow, Captain Hook in Peter Pan, and even Doofenschmirtz-2 in Phineas and Ferb the Movie. Just because some of the portrayals are silly (looking at you, Phineas and Ferb) doesn’t make the coding of facially scarred villains any less hurtful.  

A slightly different, but related phenomenon I’ll include here is the idea of the disability con. This is when a character fakes a disability for personal gain. This represents disabled people as potential fakers, and advances the idea that disabled people get special privileges that abled people can and should co-opt for their own reasons. 

In The Usual Suspects, criminal mastermind Verbal Clint fakes disability to avoid suspicion and take advantage of others. In Arrested Development, a lawyer fakes blindness in order to gain the sympathy and pity of the jury.

In much more complex examples such as Sharp Objects, a mother with Munchausen by proxy fakes her daughter’s illness in order to receive attention and pity. Portrayals like this make Munchausen or MBP seem more common than it is, and introduce the idea that parents may be lying or coaching their children to lie about necessary medical treatment.

Disability as Morality

Sometimes, the disabled character themselves is a moral lesson, like Auggie in Wonder. Sheerly through existing, Auggie “teaches” his classmates about kindness, the evils of bullying, and not judging a book by its cover. This also fits well under inspiration porn. This is problematic, because the disabled character is defined in terms of how they advance the other characters’ morality and depth.

In the “Disabled for a Day” trope, an otherwise abled character experiences a temporary disability, learns a moral lesson, and is restored to full ability by the end of the episode/book/movie. Once again, disability is used as a plot device, rather than a complex experience, along with more permanent disability being rejected as impossible for heroes or main characters.

Examples include an episode of M*A*S*H where Hawkeye is temporarily blinded, an episode of Law and Order: SVU where Elliott Stabler is temporarily blinded, and an episode of Criminal Minds where Agent Hotchner experiences temporary hearing loss.

Real life examples include sensitivity trainings where participants are asked to wear a blindfold, headphones, or use a wheelchair for a given amount of time. This does not impart the lived experience of disability. It should not be used as a teaching tool. 

Disabled people as inherently pure. This is related to inspiration porn and disabled people as noble, but is different in that it is usually appears in combination with developmental, cognitive, or intellectual disabilities. These characters are framed as sweet, “simple,” and a reminder to other characters to be cheerful, happy, or grateful.

Examples include Forrest Gump, Rain Man, I Am Sam, and What’s Eating Gilbert Grape.

No matter what the stereotypes of a given diagnosis are (yes, I’m thinking of the automatic cheerfulness associated with Down Syndrome), disabled people have personalities. They are capable of being sad, angry, sarcastic, irritable, annoying - any number of things beyond good/sweet/pure. It is reductive to act otherwise.

Disability as Surreal

Less common than some of the others, but still worth thinking about!

Disabled characters are framed as mystical, magical, or other than human, a condition that is either created by or indicated through their disability status. This is especially common with little people.

“Disability superpower” is when a character compensates for, or is uniquely able to have a superpower because of, their disability. Common tropes include the Blind Seer, Blind Weapon Master, Genius Cripple and Super Wheel Chair.

Examples include Pam from Supernatural, Charles Xavier from X-Men, or the grandpa in Spy Kids.

Disability as Undesirable

Last and least favorite category here. Let’s go.

Disabled people as asexual or not sexually desirable. Disabled people can be asexual, obviously. When every portrayal is asexual, that’s a big problem. It frames disabled people as sexually undesirable or implies that it is impossible for people with disabilities to have rewarding, mutually satisfying sexual relationships.

Examples include The Fault in Our Stars or Artie in Glee.

Abandoned due to disability. Hate this trope. Often equates disability with weakness. Don’t want to talk about it. It’s all right there in the title. Don’t do it.

Examples: Quasimodo in Hunchback of Notre Dame, several kittens in the Warrior Cat series, several episodes of Law and Order: SVU, Bojack Horseman, and Vikings.

Discussed in 300 and Wolf of Wall Street.

Ancient cultures and animal nature are often cited as reasoning for this trope/practice. This is not founded in fact. Many ancient civilizations, including Sparta, cared for disabled people. Many animals care for disabled young. These examples should not be used to justify modern human society.

Disabled characters are ostracized for disability. Whether they act “““normal”““ or odd, characters with visible or merely detectable disabilities are treated differently.

Examples include pretty much every piece of media I’ve said so far. This is particularly prevalent for people with visible physical disabilities or neurodivergence. Also particularly prevalent for characters with albinism.

This is not necessarily an inaccurate portrayal - disabled people face a lot of discrimination and ableism. It is, however, very, very common.

Bury your disabled. What it says on the label.

Examples: Animorphs, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, American Horror Story, Criminal Minds, Dr. Who, Star Trek, The Wire.

Mercy killing is a subtrope of the above but disgusting enough that it deserves its own aside. I may make a separate post about this at some point because this post is kind of exhausting and depressing me.

Examples: Me Before You, Killing Eve, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Of Mice and Men, and Million Dollar Baby.

Disability-negating superpowers imply that disability is undesirable by solving it supernaturally instead of actually portraying it, and giving their character powers instead.

Examples include (arguably) Toph from Avatar: the Last Airbender, Captain America: The First Avenger, The Legend of Korra, Dr. Strange, and Daredevil.

Overcoming disability portrays disability as a hindrance and something that can be defeated through technology and/or willpower.

Fictional examples include WALL-E, Kill Bill, The Goonies, The Dark Knight Trilogy, Heidi, The Secret Garden, The Inheritance Cycle, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, The Big Bang Theory, Dr. Strangelove, Sherlock, The Witcher.

Real life examples include videos of wheelchair users standing from their chair to walk down the aisle at a wedding, or d/Deaf children “hearing” for the first time through cochlear implants.

What Does This Mean for Your Writing?

First of all, congratulations for making it this far!

Now, as I have said again and again, I’m not going to tell you what to write. I’ll ask some questions to hopefully help guide your process.

What tropes might you be playing into when writing disabled characters? Why do you find these tropes compelling, or worth writing about? How prevalent are these tropes? How harmful are they? What messages do they send to actual disabled people?

Just because they are common tropes does not mean they are universally awful. Cool fantasy or futuristic workarounds are not necessarily bad rep. Showing the ugly realities of ableism is not necessarily bad rep. It’s just a very, very common representation of disability, and it’s worth thinking about why it’s so common, and why you’re writing it.

As always, conduct your own research, know your own characters and story, and make your own decisions. If you have questions, concerns, or comments, please hit me up! Add your own information! This is not monolithic whatsoever.

Happy writing!

[mistymem0ryy]

Il Dottore x Reader

The Fall of Icarus Chapter 1 - An unexpected letter

Summary: While being a student in the prestigious Sumeru Academy, the reader begins to form a weird friendship with the genius student Zandik, only to then lose said friendship due to his banishment. Years later a rogue letter finds its way to their report-file desk.

The gender of the reader is not specified.

(Minor spoilers for Dottore’s identity ig)// Word count: 2066

Notes: I am quite tired of the constant fics where the Reader happens to not be at a similar intellectual level as Dottore… Do not get me wrong I understand that it could be quite intimidating since the guy is quite literally a genius, but I always wondered how different his common behavior and developing intellect would have been during his Academia years…

Chapter 2

{No beta we die like Zandik’s grades}

People like Dottore are usually blessed with what I call an Imaginative Genius, he is inventive and curious in nature but that is not all you need in order to excel in an Academic environment. Any undergrad level Science student will complain to you about obligatory courses that range from boring classes on how to write an adequate lab report, to mind draining mathematics units that you have to take in order to graduate but most probably will never need in your actual profession.

Dottore is a genius, yes, but he is also impatient and insatiable, and those are the traits that led him to his unlabeled relationship with you…

The Academia is constituted by various facets dedicated to different areas of research, but they all possess one common thing, and that is the dreadful compulsory mathematics and report units. Mathematics is the language of the world, therefore it would be only logical that a self respecting scientist would have a certain degree of fluency in it…And to add unto that, a great researcher must too be capable of describing all observable phenomena in harmonious text.

Dottore… or should I say Zandik? Well, no matter how much his brain was capable of maneuvering itself into creating unimaginable gadgets and devices while simultaneously researching lost ruins of forgotten civilizations, he simply could not wrap his head around a certain set of classes that he deemed utterly useless.

He wanted to go out and research the unknown, feel his surroundings and understand their development, he wanted to acquire knowledge beyond the one present in the various dust collecting books that encircled him every minute… 

He wants to punch down that godforsaken door and leave this classroom at this precise moment… But to his utter disdain he cannot.

You see Zandik is quite the intelligent fellow, his curiosity leads him further in his personal research but he must balance all of that alongside all the courses the Academia requires from him in order to finish his initial program. But no matter how “important” a certain class might be, if it doesn't strike the interest of the blue haired student then he will not even glance towards its direction twice… His time is precious and slowly but certainly running out, so he must make the most of it, even if it means missing a rather concerning number of classes.

You would like to say that perhaps, in some sick and twisted way, Zandik considers you a friend… an appreciated company? a tolerant fellow student?... 

After years of being in the Academia you have come to recognize the fact that you were the one sole person he did not outright treat with pure hatred. Sometimes you look back to your first year in the Academia, when you were solely a freshman ready to embark on a new intellectual endeavor and happened to be partnered up with Zandik for a class on “The Etiquette of Writing a Concise and Clean Scientific Report”. A boring class that you honestly thought quite useless, I mean haven’t you all been writing for years already? Why would you need a specific class centered around writing a report when you could be spending this precious time on other more alarming subjects? 

After receiving your first graded assignment, and looking to your side only to be met with the hellish mess that was your Partner’s crumbling sheet you finally realized why this class was an obligatory module for graduation… You cannot decipher at which point his description of physical phenomena turned into a horrific amalgamation of scribbled equations, and- is that khaenri'ahn script? Nevermind, you do not want to know…

Zandik catches you fearfully attempting to understand the meaning behind his rather… messy report…and lets out an annoyed huff in the process.

He is an excellent scientist in the making yes, but he has a hard time translating the concepts that take place in his head into a mere sheet of paper, and the fact that someone, especially YOU, happened to be witness to one of his intellectual weaknesses, that he so arduously attempted to hide, stroke a nerve.

The moment the class is dismissed Zandik is packing his materials and leaving this humiliating experience, you quickly come to the understanding that his speed is not necessarily a byproduct of his failing grade, but rather of the fact that you saw said grade.

You knew Zandik had a reputation for being a Genius in the making, and honestly a part of yourself could not help but be relieved by the fact that this class was proof that he could also fail, that he was indeed human.

You gather your belongings as fast as you can manage, and decide to follow the boy into whatever corner of this building he has decided to retire himself into. When you find him you offer to secretly help him with his failing grade, which he reluctantly accepts. That is the beginning of the rather weird relationship you happened to establish with Zandik, you weren't necessarily friends… you knew that despite his act in front of the professors and all the well calculated smiles he threw into the air, Zandik didn't actually see any of your colleagues on exactly friendly terms… but you hoped… You hoped that perhaps after all of this he could find in himself the sympathy to see, at least yourself, in a softer light…And the thing is, he did, trully. You simply weren't capable of perceiving it.

It was rather unnoticeable, and only someone with an extremely keen eye and patience would be capable of noticing the slight ways in which Zandik would relax his composure when in your presence, how his gaze would linger on you while you corrected another maze-like report of his, how he would lie to you about being offered 2 coffees instead of one thanks to his Genius-like reputation among the academic staff, and now you would have to drink the other one so he doesn't over caffeinate his system.

It was honestly quite warming, while it lasted at least. You helped Zandik obtain the grade he needed in order to pass that tormenting class, and sincerely hoped that this would not be the end of the untold arrangement between the two of you.

The unnamed relationship between you and Zandik, to your surprise, remained intact after that class, he continued to talk to you whenever you too happened to be in the same room (which even though at first glance does not seem to be that much, it is actually quite important for him since you happened to be the only other student which he does not see as a complete waste of his time), and when he noticed that you were having a hard time with Multivariable Calculus he took it upon himself to tutor you through that fearsome class. It was those tutoring sessions that really allowed Zandik to learn more about you, from your favorite dish to your family history, and eventually to teasingly referring to you only by the name of your favorite constellation.

“Careful there Icarus you don’t want to burn your wings away now do you?”

“Zandik why is the lab on fire?”

It was all going quite well… until the rumors began…

All the compliments that embellished Zandik’s reputation in the beginning slowly metamorphosed into quick whispers in the hallways pertaining to his rather unorthodox ideas, people began fearing for their safety after the disappearances and deaths began… And the initial worry directed towards your person and safety, as being the closest student to Zandik, eventually transformed itself into comments about how you too must also possess some sort of sickness in that head of yours in order to talk with him so casually…

Zandik was ok with people gossiping about him, that is as ok as one can be when your sanity has turned into a theme of communal discussion, but when the hatred that those around him started to deviate from being completely aimed towards him and began to shift towards your unknowing figure, he had to put it all to a stop. You were the only person in that damned establishment that saw him beyond the performance he put up every waking hour, the only person that treated him as if he were an actual human being and not an interesting concept, and no matter how ardently he wanted to be accursed alongside your embrace he couldn't bring himself to actually bring the both of you into your own doom.

He stopped talking to you completely. It's as if in the matter of a fleeting night your bodily presence had been turned invisible to his eyes, your voice echoed upon deaf ears, your pleas for an explanation gone unheard, left to rot alongside yourself.

You tried, you really did, but Zandik persisted, and at some point your loud requests for an explanation had been turned into a fleeting glance on your way to class, only to then become the impossibility of seeing him for weeks on end…

You want to say that you were surprised when he was expelled, but honestly you saw it coming before he did. Zandik, no matter how many times he bashed in his capacity of predicting the outcomes of any possible situation, was always a victim of his own ego, he thought himself undefeatable and it was (temporarily at least) your job to ground him to reality when necessary. 

He had strayed too far, and now his own genius could not save him from whatever grave he had dug for himself this time, not even you could stretch a lending hand to bring him from the darkest pits of his mind back to the light…

It has been years since the last time you saw Zandik, out of everyone in your sector of the Academia he was the only one you were certain of achieving greatness in the future, only for that hypothetical greatness to be cut short before he could even graduate successfully…

You tried to find him, after he was banished from Sumeru, no matter how hideous his actions, you could not forget the fact that he too was a human being, you had seen parts of Zandik the world considered utterly impossible, and you hoped that he could see that no matter how tarnished his person could become by the words of the masses, you still saw him as the boy that would ramble about Ancient Civilizations while you studied anatomy, the same boy that would take you to the areas of Sumeru streaming with wildlife and lecture you on all the different properties of the various species inhabiting your surroundings, the same boy that sent you letters nearly every two days when you had to temporarily interrupt your studies to help a sick family member…

But now it has been years, and even though you were able to somehow balance out both your professional research and that for the whereabouts of Zandik, you have found yourself with absolutely no fruitful outcome to the latter.

You quickly realized that you had completely spaced out with your various reports left untouched in front of you, recently the amount of times you temporarily lose awareness only to daydream about your old days with Zandik has become alarmingly bigger, you really should get some healthy amounts of sleep from now on…Especially after receiving a heads up from Alhaitham of a wandering Traveler that supposedly is going to pass by your office today in order to request your help.

You begin to clean up your reports, organizing every sheet according to your personal system until your eyes land upon a rogue letter that you cannot recall having in your possession.

The only tip that could lead to the identity of the sender was the initial -D stamped upon the untouched envelope. You switfly grabbed and began to open the lonely envelope in an uninterested manner, that is until it suddenly fell upon your paralyzed feet, leaving your trembling hands stuck in their prior position, as if you were still holding that now forgotten letter within your grasp.

All it took was one inked phrase.

“Greetings, my dear Icarus…”

[syeren]

WORKAHOLIC.

Gepard didn’t realize how much of an impact you made on him.

Being the Silvermane Captain, he had a reputation to keep up and a demeanor to maintain. However, that all changed when he spotted you in his peripheral vision.

You, the leading officer of Belobog’s Judiciary department and first person to ever achieve such a high role next to the Supreme Guardian — in such a short period of time — encaptured the attention of the entire nation. After the fall of the former Supreme Guardian, Cocolia, Bronya took the lead and appointed you to be part of the nation’s main officers. Unfortunately for Gepard, he could only stay in the shadow of your fame, washed out as he continued his daily duties. He was satisfied with his achievements, and he was pleased to be in the role he worked for; he had worked that hard for it anyway. Though, a pang of jealousy reeked within him. Gepard was a slight perfectionist and an obvious hard worker, and the notion of a formidable coworker that rose up the ranks faster than he ever did plagued his mind feverishly. Was he doing something wrong? Surely not. But, his overthinking did more than just be lingering, negative, and obsessive thoughts — you enchanted him. And he surely didn’t expect his legs to be moving on their own toward your figure.

With a stack of files in your right hand, you discussed the further construction of transportation between the Overworld and Underworld with Bronya. The subtle change within the air blew through Qlipoth as Gepard made his way towards you in striding steps. Heavy armour clanked against the cool tiles of the office as he closed the gap between the two of you. A gulp made its way to your throat.

“Excuse me, may I have a word?” he inquired, a twitch in his eyebrow motioned towards the hallway. It was a bit skeptical that a Silvermane Guard spoke to you, and you immediately thought if anything went wrong on the front lines. You gave Bronya a soft smile and a nod, then placed your attention on the male in front.

“I can spare some time, lead the way officer.”

The hallway was dead compared to the bustle of the main street. You peered at the Everwinter Monument that stood tall in the middle of the busy area, glistening in the light.

You cleared your throat. “Well, if you could state the meaning of my appearance here, that would be lovely,” you questioned and matched your eyes with the light blue ones ahead of you. Gepard played with his fingertips before speaking.

“Ahh yes. Well, I was just thinking if the Supreme Guardian has any means of… Letting my rank falter. It seems that my usual capabilities to serve her aren’t the same as they used to be rather— too easy? Might I add,” Gepard replied, tone drifting off in thought. You pondered the fact if Bronya truly felt the need to let him go. Before you got placed in the high-ranking position, Gepard handled the job in a concise and efficient manner. Needless to say, he should’ve been the one in your shoes and you felt a wave of anxiety rush through your body.

You’ve admired his work ethic; his perseverance to keep going forth and setting his goals straight. It’s no wonder as to why he gained such a fanbase and large amount of support — and not to mention, him being your role model towards this job in the first place. Dampness secreted from your palms as you hastily wiped it down onto your sleeves, you crossed your arms together and eyed Gepard.

“I believe not, Mr. Landau,” you continued, “the Supreme Guardian wouldn’t let her most reputable and reliable guard to be put to waste.”

His eyebrows subtly moved upwards at your words, seemingly soothed the worries from his mind.

“I am honoured to hear that,” he replied, relief gracing his tongue.

“And no need for formalities, I am younger than you by a year. Plus, position hierarchy doesn’t apply much to me when it comes to you.”

A joyous chuckle left his lips. “Well then, care to explain?”

“I envy you, Mr. Landau, you should be the one in my position at this point,” you teased and a smile appeared on your face. Gepard noticed and coughed slightly into the side of his wrist, a hue of a faint pink dusted his cheekbones.

“I may have a proposal to solve both of our issues—” you sauntered and fiddled with the ends of your garments, “—if you are up to it, that is.”

A curious gaze befell on his face as he matched the stature of your body.

“Go on.”

An affirmative hum left your lips. “It is not that I dislike my job, I thoroughly enjoy my work. However, the chances of gaining a favourable vacation are out of my reach currently… One that I should have been granted beforehand. The workload I have been assigned isn’t fit for just one person— and I could easily finish it, but I need some time to regain my mental stability back.”

Right. With newcomers sweeping Qlipoth from the Underworld to seek higher-ranked careers, the remaining individuals received a lessened workload compared to the rest. It was a plausible explanation as to why the guards hasn't done their duties as often as before. Gepard dazed into the comforting afternoon sun that draped down Belobog, the bluebells dancing within the air caught his attention.

His stare lingered onto the flowers as he spoke, “so all you are requesting is for settled time off? And to grant that, you must finish the remaining workload you currently have now? Do correct me if I am wrong.”

“Yes, that is correct,” you replied, following his gaze to the flower shop just below the window.

“I’ll grant you that request.”

You whiplashed your head to face him straight on.

“That quickly? I do not mind waiting for a proper answer—“ Gepard stopped you and let out a breathy chuckle.

“That proposal does indeed solve both of our issues... You need time off while I need some more time on," he agreed with a small smile gracing his face. "May I ask one more request on my side?"

You nodded your head curtly and watched him angle towards you, the orange hue from the setting sun basked Gepard in a warm, heavenly aura compared to the iciness of the horrific snowstorms in the distance. Never once had a man bestowed such an ethereal appearance on you, but looking at Gepard in such a quiet and intimate state caused a thump in your heart.

"Allow me to take you on a date once you have been granted some free time, think of it as a 'please' and a 'thank you.'"

[queeranarchism]

Hi! I saw your answer to the question about "Anarchist leadership" and had a followup question. My concept of leadership has been that the practical function of the role itself is how you described a "coordinator," and that the difficulties which anarchism seeks to address arise when team coordination gives way to that individual abusing the opportunity of coordination to divide labor unequally (IE less to themself) or ignore input on how work is done, by whom, or when. To put it simply, my idea has been that the difference between a "leader" and a "boss" is, at extremes, that a leader takes on as much work (or more) as the rest of the group and considers every opinion in the group before making a final decision, while a boss accepts no input and does no work beyond coordination.

My first question is this: When a group is doing work collaboratively, how does an anarchist structure address the potential roadblock of deliberation? If every member is required to provide consensus on a decision affecting the group, what is the method for decision-making when consensus can't be reached? The only option I know of is an individual whose job is making a final decision in a case where one or more individuals refuse to agree with the majority, which is undeniably an authoritarian structure, but are there alternatives that can effectively limit deliberation when there is only so much time available? In short, what is the anarchist method of making a concise decision on something that affects every individual present?

My second question is this: If an individual's responsibility is coordination, or even being the "final say" in deliberation (assuming there is no other option), what is the alternative to rotation of responsibility if there are no other individuals capable of accomplishing that? I recognize that rotation of responsibility is an effective way to avoid one individual being placed in a position where their coordination becomes critical to the function of the group, but there are scenarios where nobody else in the group has the capacity to organize and coordinate and one can't be provided. How does one avoid a power structure when only one person is capable of coordinating?

I also have a followup about how anarchism addresses human vanity & pettiness in both of these cases, but I can save that so you don't have to answer too much in one post. Thanks in advance!

I'm going to start with the simple part: what you describe as the difference between a leader and a boss is, in effect, the difference between a boss and a lazy boss. The authority is exactly the same. The worst bosses I've worked for were willing to work very very hard, they were still my boss and the fact that they worked hard changed nothing about that relationship. A person that has the power to hire and fire others is a boss. If a person can decide that I should no longer have a stable income, I am at their mercy. They are my boss and no hard work or cool attitude can change that.

As for forming consensus: if consensus can not be reached it means a decision that works for everybody can not be reached and to those committed to consensus it is vital to keep working, keep talking, go over all the possibilities, pros and cons, and unorthodox alternatives again until a consensus is reached. For those interested in learning that, i recommend A Consensus Handbook, Co operative decision making for activists, co ops and communities by Seeds for Change. Free pdf here: https://www.seedsforchange.org.uk/handbook

This book probably addresses a lot of your follow up questions. A vital thing to understand before you get started is that in order for consensus to work, there has to be:

No leader ad a commitment to dismantle power dynamics. Not just the pretense that there isn't a power dynamic. It has to be real. There can't be anyone with a 'final say', that's just authority with extra steps. A person with the power to have a 'final say' is a boss. There's no anarchism there. None.

An agreement by all participants to work by consensus.

Time and patience.

When people have spend most of their life not living with consensus, they will come in with attitudes that don't fit a consensus process. They will see the goal as 'reaching the decision that I already know we need to make' instead of seriously considering alternatives that others bring to the table. They will try to gain a majority for their plan instead of working with everyone in the group. They will try to get their way by blocking every alternative. It takes time, practice and experiencing the benefits of a consensus process for that attitude to change.

[eiloveir]

𝖙𝖎𝖉𝖆𝖑 𝖜𝖆𝖛𝖊.

🔞 definitely ain’t for minors (contains frequent strong language and alludes to sexual content)

none are affiliated with the canon naruto series; this is solely an alternate universe of my own creation, purely fictional and set in a modern context compared to the original manga and anime plot.

pairing: uchiha itachi x female reader

gently bathing the streets in hues of reddish neon, an almost beautiful ambiance enveloped tokyo, a city that lived day and night. a woman glided with grace and elegance amidst the steady stream of people. everywhere she went, her appealing appearance attracted admiring looks from those nearby. driven by a thirst for attention, excitement, and power, she smirked quietly beneath her veil of black mascara. she had mastered the art of overcoming life’s challenges by leveraging her beauty in a society that often rewarded charm and appearance.

she understood the harsh realities of their world: those with the face of an angel were granted privileges others could only dream of. it was a brutal truth that even when harboring hatred or committing crimes, they could escape consequences with a mere flutter of their eyelashes.

her beauty was her shield, her weapon, her means to an end.

her heels clicked in time with the pavement as she moved, her movements purposeful yet worn out. she was surrounded by a plethora of sounds and images from the city, yet she didn’t lose focus because she knew where she was going. she eventually found herself at her designated spot after what seemed like hours of dealing with the streets that resembled a maze. she took a moment to compose herself before skillfully removing a phone from her sling bag.

“dei, are you there?” she inquired, her voice barely above a whisper.

the connection crackled, and after a moment of silence, a voice responded tersely, “hm. what is it?” she grimaced and rolled her eyes, a subtle display of frustration meant as a signal that her task was nearing completion, yet all she received was a nonchalant nod in return.

irritated, she demanded, “what am i supposed to do here, idiot?”

“didn't the boss brief you?” deidara asked, his voice is steady with amusement. her frustration seemed to amuse him rather than bother him. “so, are you already there?”

“god, deidara, just tell me!” she commanded firmly, her tone uncompromising. deidara chuckled softly, clearly enjoying her irritation.

“y/n, you need to infiltrate that place. the club is owned by kara. your mission is to gather evidence to bring them down. they’re our rivals, and you know how things work in the mafia world.” deidara’s explanation was concise, devoid of hesitation. almost as an afterthought, he added, “don’t worry, i believe someone’s already there to assist you.”

she exhaled slowly, her annoyance simmering beneath the surface. the implication that she needed help stung her pride. it seemed the leader’s decision was not without some disregard for her capabilities; she prided herself on being competent and self-sufficient.

“it’d better not be hidan.”

she prepared herself for the challenge ahead. glancing at her phone one last time before returning it to her purse, she straightened up and made her way towards the club’s entrance. above, colorful lights flickered ominously. with her senses sharp and her mind focused, she was ready to step into the lion’s den.

the game was on, and she intended to play by her rules.

pausing for a moment in the midst of the crowd, she took in her surroundings. her eyes scanned the scene: older men leering at dancing women with predatory gazes, friends sharing a joint enveloped in a cloud of smoke, and a couple lost in a passionate kiss cheered on by their friends.

nothing appeared overtly suspicious yet.

she ascended the stairs towards the second floor, where secrets might lurk. just as she was about to climb, a hand unexpectedly tapped her shoulder. she turned to see a man, visibly intoxicated but well-dressed, not much older than herself.

“oi, deepa, do your damn job! boss will kick your ass!” a red-haired man suddenly appeared beside him with a commanding voice that cut through the noise.

boss? she wondered, intrigued by the possibility of a potential asset in her investigation.

“don't interfere, code,” deepa retorted sharply, pushing the red-haired man aside to approach her with a drink. she hesitated, cautious of the drink’s contents, but accepted it with a feigned smile. perhaps playing along could work to her advantage.

“thank you,” she purred, adopting a coy grin as she prepared to adopt a new persona. “but what about him?” she teased, gesturing towards the red-haired man, mischief twinkling in her eyes.

“damn it, you’re insufferable.” code muttered to himself, glaring at deepa, flipping him off, and ruffling his hair in frustration before walking away.

she found herself face-to-face with deepa, the man she intended to exploit for her ends. his invitation to retire to a private room seemed to be an attempt to lure her into a familiar situation. yet, she maintained her charade with a smile. as they settled onto plush sofas, deepa poured drinks, offering one to her.

“so, what’s a pretty girl like you doing here?” he asked, his compliment catching her off guard.

“can’t girls have fun?”

clearly enjoying her banter, deepa smiled at her witty response. “of course. you’re welcome here.” he said, pouring himself another drink. he extended another offer to her, though she refused to sip from the glass, knowing they might be poisoned.

“you know, i’ve never seen you here before,” deepa said after a moment, breaking the silence. “are you new in town?”

she shook her head slightly, projecting a shyness. “just passing through,” she responded firmly yet gently. “i heard there are some exciting spots around here.”

“and what do you find exciting?” deepa chuck as he leaned back, studying her intently.

lowering her gaze playfully, she murmured, “you know, good music, interesting company,” she paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “and perhaps a few surprises.”

he grinned, clearly enjoying her company. “surprises? i like surprises,” he said, locking eyes with her. “and i guess you do too, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

raising her gaze, she met his with a playful glint. “you could say that. and what about you? you seem to know this place well.”

“you could say i have a vested interest in this place, i’m responsible for its operation, after all.” he replies, swirling his own drink in his glass.

"so, you’re the boss, huh? that makes sense, considering how well you know the place.” with slightly raised eyebrows, she pretends to be surprised. she just caught the largest fish to aid her in her quest. with slightly raised eyebrows, she pretends to be surprised.

deepa chuckled softly, amused by her assumption. “let’s just say i have a... role in the operations here,” he corrected her. “i’m not the official owner, but i do have a fair amount of influence.”

bingo.

as y/n prepared to advance her mission by cornering him, an abrupt and silence fell over the room. in an instant, he moved swiftly behind her, pressing her against the sofa with a deadly quickness. stepping onto the back of the sofa, he loomed over her, the cold barrel of a gun unforgiving against her temple.

his breath was hot on her neck as he whispered, “you’ve played a convincing game of innocence so far, but i’ve always had a sharp eye for deception.”

heart palpitating, y/n’s thoughts whirled as she considered what to do next. though she had been waiting for this moment, the realization that he was so close still made her shudder. remaining composed, she cocked her head slightly, letting her hair cascade down like a curtain to partially veil her face from his inquiring stare.

“funny,“ she replied softly, her voice laced with confidence that masked the tension within her. “i could say the same about you.”

deepa’s grip tightened on her shoulder, a subtle warning of his control over the situation. “don’t mistake my curiosity for ignorance. who sent you here, and what do you want?”

y/n stayed composed, her thoughts racing to reassess her strategy. when she was this close to getting the information she needed from him, she could not afford to give away too much. she answered his focused look with a measured glance, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered how to respond.

“does it matter?” she countered smoothly, her tone measured with defiance. “you’ve clearly taken an interest in me. why spoil the fun with unnecessary questions?”

his fingers tightened on her shoulder before he released her, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. he straightened up, his expression hardening as he regarded her with suspicion.

“you’re playing a dangerous game.” he warned, his voice low but firm.

y/n leaned back against the sofa, her posture relaxed yet poised for any sudden movement. “aren’t we all?” she quipped, her words a reminder of the balance they both maintained in the world they inhabited.

before deepa could respond, the door to the private room swung open abruptly, startling them both. standing in the doorway was a tall man with long raven-black hair, his silhouette imposing against the dim light of the bar beyond. his manner emanated an authority that immediately altered the atmosphere in the room.

“deepa, you should know better than to handle your guests so roughly.” the man spoke—a calm yet authoritative voice.

deepa’s gaze flickered between y/n and the newcomer, his jaw tightening with restrained frustration. “who the hell are you?” he demanded, his voice edged with disbelief.

the man’s eyes, dark and piercing—met deepa’s with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

“i’m here to ensure she gets what she came for.”

y/n didn’t have any idea who this man was, but she played along—better than having someone pull the trigger of their gun on her head. she looked at the man, examining his face; she didn’t recognize him at all. but thanks to him, deepa’s attention was diverted.

“y/n of the akatsuki, you surely didn't come here unprepared, did you?” deepa asked, her heart skipping a beat with a sinister edge as he spoke her name. it was unsettling that her membership in the akatsuki was acknowledged; she had never disclosed it to anybody outside the group.

“you’re underestimating me, aren’t you?” she said confidently, getting closer to his face. she grabbed his hair and yanked it, making him wince in pain. “bitch.”

y/n cautiously stepped away from deepa, feeling a sudden coldness against her arm—a sharp pain from his stab. shock momentarily froze her, her mind struggling to grasp the sudden violence. “when did he?”

before she could react, a gunshot rang out, breaking the tense silence. the sound reverberated in the club, blending with screams and the abrupt cessation of music that intesified the panic that gripped the air.

her eyes widened as she saw the man, gripping a blazing gun with a tense expression. her voice shook involuntarily, confusion clouding her thoughts. “what have you done?”

“you’ve already messed this up,” he retorted sharply, drawing his gun swiftly. his intense stare unnerved her. ignoring her questions, the man grabbed her arm and guided her through the panicked crowd of the club. “let’s go before they catch us.”

the earlier atmosphere of the club had collapsed into anarchy within. screams that were high in pitch with the smell of alcohol and perspiration. the unexpected hush that followed the music’s abrupt cessation, which emphasizes the seriousness of the situation—fueled panic like a wildfire.

a police megaphone exploded, sending a strong voice resounding off the walls with its urgency among the chaotic scene. the words hung heavily in the air. “this is the police! immediate evacuation is mandatory! leave now to avoid any involvement!”

the man hurried y/n through the crowd and out into the parking lot, his focus solely on escape.

as they drove away, y/n tried to collect her thoughts, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. glancing at the man beside her, she finally spoke, “you can slow down now.” eyes flicking from the road to his unreadable expression. the changed from city life to the quiet of suburbia was abrupt; the car suddenly parked in a secluded spot surrounded by tall trees and silence.

the man complied silently, cutting the engine with a decisive click. stepping out into the cool night air, he opened his door, the quiet rush of the breeze filling the silence. as she took in their surroundings, y/n trailed behind, her footsteps leaving gentle imprints on the ground. contrary to the earlier chaos, her breath formed little clouds in the cold air.

the shock of the sudden events began to subside, replaced by curiosity and a need for answers. turning to face the man, y/n’s voice broke the quiet of the night. “how do you know this?”

for a little period, the man stared at her, his face difficult to interpret in the low light. with his cigarette shining brightly in the dark, he took a contemplative drag. his face was lit by the glow from the ember, which produced deep shadows that showed his features. he let out an exhale, the smoke curling around him like thin, spectral tendrils before vanishing into the evening air.

“i cleared your mission.”

“who are you?”

the man turned to face her, his black eyes meeting hers with a gentle, yet intense, stare. his features’ distinct contours were brought to light by the way the shadows moved across his face. he carefully extinguished his cigarette, allowing the flame to disappear into the night. his presence was dominating and mysterious as he moved to close the distance between them with a subtle ease. he took off his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders. the material smelled warm, somewhat smoky, and very much like him.

“you might catch a cold.”

she silently exchanged emotions with him as his gesture made her heart skip a beat. she felt oddly protected and at ease because of the jacket’s warmth in comparison to the cool night air.

“i’m uchiha itachi.”

[aniamra]

Traits that make people terrible moderators

These are just some observations I've made being a moderator in multiple settings, in wonderful teams and bad teams, as well as being in communities that have absolutely festered due to poor moderation. Many of these traits are things you can identify before the person is even appointed a moderator in the first place. (Most of this applies to large-scale servers and/or communities, and isn't always applicable to small and/or personal servers. I am not writing some sort rule book absolutely everyone has to follow, these are just traits that would not make the mod-team cut, to me, you don't have to agree with me.)

Having any hesitation with confrontation. (being a moderator requires confrontation, this is not negotiable. if the idea of confronting difficult people gives you anxiety or panic attacks, don't apply to be a moderator)

Being too eager to confront and/or unable to use tact/kindness when confronting. (those that seek confrontation should not be moderators)

Gets personally offended easily. (any mod that is constantly getting into fights with other users because of perceived slights, will make the whole community feel unable to talk to the mod team)

Is incapable of repairative reading. (moderators need to be capable of reading the best out of someone and not jumping to negative conclusions)

Lacking in compassion. (using tact and kindness leads to faster, more permanent, diffusion of conflicts)

Views any confrontation as a personal attack. (being a moderator means getting a lot of questions, suggestions, and well-meaning 'confrontation' and needs to be met without hostility. ps: tact and firmness are not the same as hostility)

Cares more about their own wants than the server. This can manifest in the form of, in the case of a server/community created for a single individual, ignoring comforts/needs of the individual; in the case of a collective community, being unwilling to negotiate or compromise with the rest or the community/team. Just any abuse of power in general.

Likes to control others. (moderation is about cohesive harmony for a shared goal, not control)

Incapable of being objective and applying the same rules appropriately to all users. (those that expect exceptions for their friends or people they want to impress, or express any other bias of application of the rules, should not be moderators)

Incapable of following the rules, themselves. (if someone wasn't following the rules before they became a mod, it won't change when they do become a mod)

Wants to be a mod for the social collateral, not because they want the community to run smoothly. (those that are constantly vying for attention and validation, that then apply for being a mod, should not be made mods)

Lacks humility. (knowing when to admit you're wrong or have overstepped, is important to being a good moderator)

Lacks the self-awareness of knowing when to put something down and walk away. (as a moderator, self-moderation is a vital skill that must be learned to be able to moderate others)

Refuses to communicate directly and clearly in any given circumstance. (vague communication is bad moderation, any user being approached by a mod should know exactly what they did wrong, and what is expected for future change)

Is prone to soap-boxing/lecturing instead of being concise. (this goes back to communicating clearly and directly; being overly verbose and preachy can make it difficult to understand. You need to give room to allow the member you are confronting to talk and ask questions.)

Incapable of deferring to others with grace where appropriate. (knowing when you're not the best mod for the job, when you're lacking in information, when your ideas just won't work, or when you're compromised is important. and knowing how to properly delicate tasks is a Must for an admin)

[lucysarah-c]

Levi isn't romantic.

Levi isn't romantic, he simply is not. If we are forced to set an analogy, being romantic is like decoration. Levi thinks that decoration itself is pointless and lacks value, it may even be unpractical. Levi prefers to keep it simple and concise, cleaning is easier when there are not many things in the way and dust simply seems to have an adoration for unnecessary displays of objects in a room.

No, Levi isn't romantic. His love is not decorative, it's not up on display for others to admire its beauty, elegance, or extravagance. It doesn't exist for other humans to admire the lengths and power that humans held to demonstrate feelings, creativity, or passion. No, it's not the Sistine Chapel for strangers to come and go while wondering to themselves how a man can hold so much expression in his hands. It's not David by Michelangelo who some may say that it was a gift to humanity. Others may agree that such a display of capability could only be a physical representation of narcissism and its necessity to say "look at me, look at what I am capable of"

No, Levi isn't romantic. If you date him expecting pet names and endless declarations of adoration toward you, your past, or even your immortal soul... then don't. Don't expect kisses in crowded rooms to take not only your breath away, but those around whose hearts skip a beat admiring so much passion. Don't expect huge preparations for anniversaries and a gigantic bouquet of flowers at your work space.

No, because Levi's love isn't an endless novel that makes you grab a dictionary to understand half of its content.

No, because Levi's love isn't decorative. Levi's love is a quote between friends that stuck with you and makes you keep going when you feel like giving up. Levi's love isn't held in a museum sheltered so it may prevail, it's the overwhelming encompassing tranquility of a forest. It has been here even before humans existed to admire it and will probably overpass us without needing our protection. Levi's love is an old stone guarding house for refugees of a storm, rusty but homely. Levi's love isn't a complicated lecture so snobs can be spooned fed with deepness. Levi's love is a warm cup against your palms during a cold winter day after you're crawling home from work. It's pure, it's simple, it's there day at night, it's up for your reach at a cupboard where he left everything clean and prepare so it's the first thing you do when you arrive home. It's steady as a drum, it's strong as a stormy sea, it's essential and unwavering as Marmol pillar. It's not up on display because making public something so pure feels illicit and sordid.

In summary; no, you won't have a romantic partner if you decide to date Levi. There'll be non of the points I pointed out before, but do you truly need them? Why make a huge deal about San-valentines day, when you're loved every day?

Levi isn't romantic, he simply is not. It even goes against his nature to even try but his love for you isn't up for discussion.

[ghostboycharm]

"it's about the policies" well that's the problem. after watching the debate i still have no idea what the fuck any of biden's policies are because he utterly failed to communicate them.

that's understandable, it was a bad performance on his part. nobody is denying that. however, it is one night, and reading up on his policies, the things he has done for americans, and even listening again to the debate while trying to ignore the tapered off sentences and stuttering, can help to realise he actually has made quite a bit of positive impact. i personally did not have any trouble understanding him, for the most part. however, i am used to speaking with people who have speech impediments, and am also quite good at listening to and comprehending auditory information in general.

anyway, the very next day he was speaking at rallies and was much more forceful, much more vigorous, and much more clear. sometimes it's just a crapshoot --- people have bad days. i do public speaking and performing, and sometimes i am able to speak clearly and concisely, other days i feel like i can't even get a word in without stumbling. the thing to remember is that he is a human being, not a robot, and when dealing with so much pressure and scrutiny, it can be difficult to put on your best face.

it's important to remember that debates are not what being a president is all about. it's also the stuff that goes on in the background. but that's less entertaining than watching a public shitshow, and it doesn't get nearly as much media time. however, it happens to be the more important stuff.

and, for the record: i spend many hours every week in a retirement home, most of it on the second floor, which is reserved for clients with severe dementia. none of them would be even slightly capable of speaking the way biden did. many people are so out of touch with what dementia actually is that they sincerely believe biden exhibits it. no. what he is exhibiting are normal human reactions to pressure --- stupid mistakes, fumbling, and stuttering are all normal. and, remember, stutters are often worsened with stress. it was a shitty performance, yeah. but it was shitty for normal reasons.

people who jump on biden for misremembering the year of his son's death, for example, clearly don't understand loss. my father lost his brother many years ago, and i asked him what year he died, and he couldn't remember. just like biden, he remembered the day instantly. but the year disappeared. nobody would call this a sign of dementia in my father, but when biden does it, he's on death's door.

this is because people are constantly looking for another reason to accuse biden of being incompetent. there is little to no basis for this belief --- much of it is thanks to the pervasive campaign against him. yeah, he's old. we get it. the dude's ancient. but you need to remember that he's still the only thing standing against another trump presidency. and if you think that would be better, please remember:

there is a culture of listening not to the words people say, but how they say them. it's natural, it's instinctive --- often it's a defense mechanism. but you need to work against it. you need to force yourself to listen to the meaning, not how the tone is making you feel.

biden may not be a great guy. he may not even be a good guy. but right now he's the only chance to get america back on track, not even through his presidency, but through the people around him and the avoidance of trump. trump is the biggest threat against america right now. you cannot let him into office.

and here's your daily reminder: voting based on ONE issue (palestinian genocide) rather than looking at the bigger picture is a sign of extreme privilege. it proves that you don't care about palestinians at all. why? because letting trump into office is throwing women, queer people, trans people, AND palestinians under the bus. because trump hates all of those people. and he has enacted policies against all of them during his presidency, and he's confirmed that he will again if re-elected.

you gotta remember that the fight for bodily autonomy in america, for example, is a fight for bodily autonomy everywhere. whether we like it or not, the rest of the world does look to america, and last time i checked, palestinians are humans, and they have bodies, and those bodies are affected by the american struggle for bodily autonomy.

and as a final note, here's my favourite post on this issue. it explains it clearly, concisely, and probably better than i have.

i hope this helps. if you're an american voter, please vote for biden. it sucks, but there really is no better option right now. but hopefully, in the next four years, there will be.

and because i know people in the comments are gonna hit me with the "american dems" bullshit as usual: i'm literally not american. try again

[st-just]

When people decide to listen to trans voices or neurodivergent voices, people are going to listen to me. I have free time to blog. I can talk like an upper-middle-class person; for that matter, I am reliably capable of concise and coherent speech. Hell, I have a good friend who runs a magazine. And, unless I deliberately think about it. all of these advantages are invisible to me. (That’s what privilege does!)

Of course, when asked to speak for trans people or neurodivergent people, I talk about my own concerns and advocate for my own needs. And so deference politics warps our sense of what matters most. Feminism frets about the number of women with C-suite jobs and about online harassment of female journalists. Advocacy for mentally ill people concentrates on destigmatizing depression instead of institutionalized violence against the schizophrenic. We are absolutely obsessed with occurrences on Ivy League college campuses.

Again, I’m not saying that it’s wrong to be worried about those things! Being relatively privileged doesn’t mean that it’s okay for you to be harassed, stigmatized, or discriminated against. But a disproportionate share of energy goes to issues that affect relatively few and relatively more powerful people.

-Ozy Brennan, Against Deference Politics: Or, The Importance Of Building Shit

[ozzgin]

Do you have any advice for those who want to post their stories and ideas on here but are just starting out

Not sure if I'm the best person to offer advice on these matters, as I feel my presence here has been mostly accidental. That being said, I am capable of introspection and I've been here long enough to notice patterns, so I can gladly share my own observations with you! Feel free to draw your own conclusions. Everyone else is invited to offer corrections or additions. :)

Guide under the cut because it's another long ramble divided in 3 parts.

What to post

The million-dollar question. Do you want to share original stories, or fanfiction? Various genres, or reader centered romances? You have the choice to try your luck and dive in with your own thing or scour the market to build a following first.

I've seen trending original stories from accounts who'd just started out, but don't use that as a reference for the quality of your own work. If you're not gaining traction, it doesn't automatically mean it's bad. There are hundreds of variables involved: the time, the context, the people. It takes one big blog to discover your story and share it, and you've taken your first step into recognition. The main issue is, there's no guarantee when or if it's going to happen.

Your other choice is to introduce yourself with fanfiction. Consider it a way of saying “let me show you my writing skills through something of your interest”. If you've been wanting to write fanfiction from the beginning, great! Now comes the next question: what is your goal? If you want more recognition, you'll want to consider the fandoms. Is there something you're into that's currently also trending on Tumblr? Writing for Hazbin Hotel, for example, will most likely get you more notes than writing for some 90s manga very few people know about. At the end of the day, you shouldn't feel pressured to write for what's "selling", but you can always find a compromise that works for you. Once you gain more followers, you can always sprinkle in more variety. Having more people who appreciate your work will give you a little boost when venturing into other areas.

I'll give you my personal case: I decided to share my Baki story right at the time a new season was out. It just so happened that many other people were interested in said character. "I only watched two episodes and immediately searched for fics", or "I saw an edit and now I'm here". So, there were people actively keeping tab on recent works for more content, and one of the relevant blogs in the fandom shared my content as well. That got the ball rolling. I've always been a multi-fandom blog, and thus with more visitors came more diverse requests. "Wait a minute, I came for X, but I see you like Y, too!"

TL;DR: If you're interested in original work or lesser known fandoms but want recognition, try to expand into trending and popular fandoms to gain visibility.

How to post

Is there a specific template you must adhere to? Absolutely not. However, I've noticed many common elements from people sharing their stories. There are authors who will dive right into the story, no title, no descriptions, but they already have followers who know what to expect. If you're just starting out, you might want to offer a helping hand to people who don't know you yet. Have a concise, clear title. Make it obvious from the beginning what your story is about. You can include trigger warnings or content previews. Maybe a little synopsis or two-three sentences to summarize everything. I've seen some blogs mention that their shorter stories get more interaction (1-2k words), so this might be something to consider. If you would prefer going for longer works, perhaps it's wise to give everyone a heads-up and include the word count at the beginning. If you want to encourage people to check out your other works, you can include a link to your masterlist at the top of the post.

Regardless of appearances, once your content is written, it needs to be tagged. Which brings us to the next topic:

This truly isn't meant to call anyone out, just something I noticed. Many people don't know how to use the hashtag feature.

Let me give you a fabricated example: you just published your best fanfiction so far. The magnum opus of your work. Time passes, and you barely get any notes. You tagged the post with #fanfic (because it's fanfiction, right?), #writers of tumblr (to notify other writers of your presence), and #series name. It's not bad by any means, but these are extremely generic hashtags. If your only anchor for the post is, say, #Harry Potter, it will be immediately drowned by the massive influx of various content under this tag: memes, fanart, discussions, screenshots. Everything meets here. If your story is a reader insert, your target is not only the overall fandom, but specifically the people looking for this type of story. Which characters are featured? Is it more of a fluffy romance, or downright smut? Is your original character a monster? If so, what kind? You have to help people find your content. If you're not sure what tags to include, use other blogs as reference. Find stories similar to yours and check the top posts. What other tags did the author use? Is there a common pattern among these popular stories?

TD;DR: Make your posts clear and obvious within the first few lines. Overly general or overly specific tags are not bad, but they shouldn't be your only identifying features. Make it very easy for people to navigate your blog (masterlists, consistent hashtag system, etc)

When to post

At one point I asked myself, out of curiosity, why some of my own posts are more popular than others despite the same amount of effort. Is there a difference depending on when you release your content? The answer is yes! There's an article discussing the best times to post on social media in order to maximize engagement. Of course, there's many variables involved, and these time intervals are not a guarantee. When are your followers most active? When do you notice a peak in notifications? Have a look at this neat desktop feature. It gives you all the answers you need. If your engagement is the highest at a given hour, it might be worth a shot to post your content then. You can also schedule your posts to match the patterns.

Let's say you posted something, and you suspect it hasn't reached all of your followers. Maybe it was a slow day, and it got less engagement than usual. I've seen people who reblog their own content the next day or even regularly, so you can opt for that if you're worried you missed out.

Additionally, Tumblr seems to reward activity. You may post as often or as little as you'd like, as long as you maintain a certain regularity. If you search for top posts/blogs of all time, you'll notice it's not actually an all-time chart, but only the content with recent engagement. A post with a million notes that hasn't been touched in 5 years won't show up. Same for blogs. The recommendations you see are of accounts who frequently post under the given hashtag. This is something to keep in mind as well.

Lastly, if you're willing/are extroverted enough, you can always try to network and build a group of mutuals. Reblog, leave comments, reach out to people within the fandom or who do the same thing. When a post is fresh, it may be temporarily bumped to the top of the search if it receives a burst of engagement. So, it definitely helps to have a bunch of friends who give you a little boost.

Yeah. This is what I have. It's not a matter-of-fact textbook, just what I personally witnessed or my own inferences. The most important detail is to give yourself time, and of course to have fun! I wish you the best of luck, and don’t forget that your ideas are worthy regardless of the outcome.

[alienisticxo]

Before the Fever - Chapter Thirteen

{Master Chief x Reader series - TV based}

{A╱N} nobody knows how sorry i am that this took me longer than i expected it to. life outside of here has kept me so busy, and i hadn’t been writing as much as i wanted, but it’s finally done! (i edited it, but i may be editing more once i read this entire series back to inspire myself further lol) we finally get into the glorious gloriousness 🫠 thank you so much as always for hanging in! i have this whole series outlined to the end so even if it takes me a little while sometimes, i will never abandon this story, its near and dear to my heart and your comments and kudos always keep me going too! 🥹🖤

Warnings: s m u t. i didn't want to make it as raunchy as I could've, so it's just some passionate smut 🥲

I hope you enjoy! ♡ 

Chapter Thirteen - Stardust

She kissed the corner of my mouth, down to my jawline, peppering me with little acts of love, compassion. It was like she was piecing me back together again, healing the scars on my body and in my mind with nothing more than her touch.

I knew the feeling would only last as long as this continued, and I knew it wasn’t the appropriate thing to do. Not amidst the war we were fighting, not amidst the way we were on the run, but there was nothing at this point that was going to stop either of us, it seemed.

There was nothing that could’ve kept me from acting on my love for {Y/N}.

Love.

That was a hell of a word, meaningless to me, at one point. But suddenly I understood it. I felt it. I knew it. I held it, and I was capable of returning it. It still baffled me, how strongly and suddenly it came. But there was no other explanation for the way I felt for her.

Believe me, I tried to find one.

She loved me. And I could feel it in the way she touched me, in the way she responded to my touch; her soft sighs, her quiet moans. Even more, it wasn’t only in this manner. I felt it in the way she held my hand in the Condor— kept it from trembling. In the way the smile touched her eyes when I told Laera she was coming with me. I hadn’t realized I felt it when I watched her staring up at the blue sky on Halo, the sun beams catching her just right; when she opened up to me that first night on Reach, at her lowest moment under Halsey’s control.

But I know now, and so does she.

This was a new field of experience for me— the entirety of it. But something within me had been awakened, ignited. I let the same long-buried instinct from our initial kiss lead the way, responding to her effortlessly as she gave into me just as easily.

Pulling her into my arms again, I kicked off my boots and lifted her off of the set of drawers, carrying her to the hallway. There was a guest room, I remembered that being offered from my first visit. I could’ve taken her right there, my avidity pushing to take over. But I felt she deserved better— she deserved something kinder.

She deserved everything good I could give her.

Her soft lips found mine again, and I occasionally peeled a hand off of her to graze the wall until I found the correct doorknob; not wanting to break the connection we shared. When I finally did, I swung the door open and closed it shut behind us, picking up the pace to the large bed in the middle of the room.

I hardly had time to register the view of deep space through the window wall just beside us, intensifying the heat of the moment. I’d have to compliment Soren’s home when I saw him again.

{Y/N}’s dainty hands traveled along my skin in a way that was still so foreign to me, but welcome beyond belief. Never having been touched so illicitly, so fully, lent to an entirely different range of sensation in various areas of my body. I was used to Medical’s sterile and concise touch when I was forced into frivolous repairs after battle. They were needed, I was told. ‘Stay still, sit down, don’t move.’ There was no love there. No care. Not like her, not like now.

She touched me like I would break— a laughable thought in any other situation. But she allowed me the space, the breathing room. She took care in every movement, and in doing so, allowed me to feel.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what was to come. I was too wrapped up in all that she was as I laid her down beneath me, carefully climbing over her. It was easy to notice how tiny she looked in comparison as we shifted to the middle of the bed, my hands on either side of her frame.

She looked up at me through a half-lidded gaze, a strap to her dress falling off of her shoulder and offering an intriguing view that I’d never expected to see. I drank {Y/N} in, possibly for the first time in such a lurid way. She was even more beautiful in a natural state like this. In the vulnerable moment that we shared— that for once, I didn’t mind sharing.

Her eyes gleamed in the starlight, and I was suddenly more lucid than I’d ever been. Her skin was smooth, holding the smallest of details. I noticed a tiny silver necklace that I hadn’t seen beneath her clothing before. It reminded me of the dog tags I only took off to shower.

But the girl surprised me when she reached down, hooking her fingers around the underwear she wore beneath her slinky gown. So easily she tugged them down and off of her legs, her eyes never leaving their fixation. Her expression had changed. There was a daring look in her eye, but it was smoldered with a desperation I’m sure my own reflected back to her. Her hand dangled off the edge of the mattress, dropping the fabric before I felt her soft fingers return to my skin.  

The urges, need, surging through me were wildly unknown and unfamiliar. They were stronger than anything I’d ever felt before, and while I was usually the king of composure, keeping a handle on it felt impossible. I wasn’t naive to the ways of these acts, I’d simply never felt the desire for them.

Until now.

God, did I need her now.

Just her. Only her.

Always.

———

John looked like a god in the flesh above me, his powerful build just outlined enough in the low light of the vivid stars that hung in the atmosphere just beyond the window. He stared down at me through intensely curious eyes, raking over what he could see of my body. I silently hoped he enjoyed it.

The way he reacted let me know that he did.

He was only half dressed, the top gone but the bottom very much in place. Despite the passion of the moment building all at once, our hands and lips finding one another again, clamoring for any amount of skin we could find, it was still quite easy to feel how aroused he’d become. That alone sent me even higher than I already felt, the faint throbbing between my own thighs becoming more and more apparent; hard to ignore or control.

But I was sure I didn’t want to control it anymore.

Together, it was enough to have me decide I’d help him, taking the underwear I wore off and tossing it aside. To egg him on, let him know without words that he was exactly what I wanted, what I needed— more than anything and anyone in this entire universe. To show him that it was okay to keep going, to take it as far as we possibly could.  

And maybe it was bold to assume that’s what was going to be needed; that that’s what was going to come next. But there was no other act of passion we could partake in that would’ve expressed our love for each other any better than that. Without words, we spoke the same language. We felt one another’s burning desire along with our own.

After a few seconds of intense hesitation, John leaned down again, placing kiss after kiss on the flesh of my throat, eliciting heavy exhales from my lungs. I wanted to breathe him, to have him become a part of me, and me a part of him— entirely.

It wasn’t much longer before I felt his hand on my thigh, brushing it higher and higher until he was pulling the dress from me. My body seemed to arch all on its own to offer him an easier way to remove it, and he tossed the silky fabric aside.

I’d never felt more beautifully exposed to anyone than I had to him at that moment. His hands continued to roam, large digits exploring every curve and divet of my form— caressing; taking the time to relish in me as though he’d never have me again.

His hands were excitingly rough, but held the same delicate touch that they had before as one slid up my waist and over my breasts. He squeezed one, and then the other, a gentle fervency in his hold as his lips explored beneath my ear, traveling to the peak of my clavicle.

He trailed lower and lower until he found my nipples, his mouth wrapping around them as he took his time with both, tongue swirling and lapping lightly until he’d been satisfied with the reaction it pulled from me; a soft gasp in the quietness of the night, my fingers digging into his toned back as it contracted under my hands, and my shoulder blades pressed against the bed.

My core grew warmer by the second, and I squirmed just slightly beneath him, unable to get any kind of grip on my need for him. I was a willing victim to the way he worked at me, his lips moving to my rib cage and back up again to meet mine feverishly, as though he’d been teasing himself just as much.

There was no telling how experienced or not he’d been, the thought only briefly crossing my mind as he seemed to bring every ounce of ecstasy out of me with such ease. He almost seemed to know my body better than I did as his fingers found all the right places, his lips kissed all the right spots, assuring us both that I was warmed up beyond the point of simply being ready for what I so desired.  

I hoped he knew that he could have me forever and even longer after as my own hands began to glide down his sides, fingers rising and falling between the ridges of his own torso; the muscles that rippled and flexed beneath my touch growing warmer with each pass.

Finding the bottom half of his under armor, I tugged down on it intently. But getting him undressed seemed like an impossible feat for someone as fragile as myself in comparison.

It was no wonder these Spartans were so well protected.

But John took notice of this right away, his hand reaching down, brushing against mine to help me get him out of the final article that kept any barrier between us.

It was then that I pulled him down against me as much as I could with the height difference, the metal of the tags he wore around his neck now burning my skin in the most delightful way. I inhaled, his natural scent mixed with the soap he used filling my lungs. Concentrating on every sense I could, it was easy to get lost within him.

My lips pressed against the inside of his neck, the stubble of his jaw grazing my cheek as I kissed back along to his mouth. I could feel every single sensation infinitely, every single nerve ending inflamed with a sweet emblazonment I knew only he could offer me for the rest of my time in the universe.

The moment was so intense, so close to the final act of ultimate devotion.

Our problems, our achievements, our standings and otherwise, all fell away once more— even further into the abyss than they had when we’d danced. It was him and I all over again. Every thought was focused on John. Every feeling enveloped in him entirely.

And I didn’t want to close my eyes; to miss any of the reactions he could possibly have to me. But when he held me captive in the euphoria that was his kiss, there was no stopping the way my eyes fell shut.

And so my other senses kicked in, raising goosebumps along my silky skin as his warm tongue made passage into my mouth, grazing against mine in a heated contest of taste.

The heat that radiated in my center only spread; every small movement, every quiet groan between us, building me up further. My fingers drifted down John’s back gently before moving to take his hand. Once our fingers were intertwined, he pinned my palm back down against the comforter, squeezing it in a needy, but gentle way. I returned the energy, knowing exactly how he felt in the depths of my soul.

I lifted my hips to meet his, a soft buck of his own telling me he was just as ready. The friction was more than I could bear as I moaned against his mouth. His large frame shifted over me, repositioning himself as I opened my eyes again. I had to get another look at him. I had to commit him to memory in this moment, just as I hoped he would do with me as his eyes drifted back to mine.

No one had ever made me feel so combustible. No one had ever made me feel so delicate. John’s touch was like electricity, even the slightest brush sending me over the moon a million times as though it was a direct connection to my dopamine supply.

And then, after all of the anticipation, after the moment had been finessed to the point of no return…

I finally felt him…

as close to me as humanly possible, as bonded to each other as we might ever be in any way.

It was as though the entire universe had fallen apart just to accommodate us; the feeling of my life flashing before my eyes, but in the sweetest, most exhilarating way possible. I was inexplicably lost and found in the same second, a blissful reality I never wanted to leave.

My head spun as I felt John sink into me, evoking an immediate  exhale from the very depths of my lungs, followed by a moan I tried my best to suppress in the silence. The largeness of his length shouldn’t have been a surprise, but the feeling was delectably satisfying, impressive, as he pushed into my slick walls.

It was the groan that escaped him that rang in my ears like music— the most beautiful music I’d ever experienced. Never had I heard someone sound so laced with desire and yet, somehow, relief. As though this was the only thing that he’d ever really needed in his entire life, and now it was all his.

He pulled his hips back slowly, his jaw was tight as he hovered over me. His searching gaze never left my face, treating me as though I were the most important mission in the galaxy, something to be sure of; something he had to assure himself of; to know I was okay and taken care of above all else.

My mouth was slightly agape as I held his stare the best I could, my arms reaching to lock around the back of his neck. Pulling him down as close to me as possible, I never wanted to lose him. I would simply lose myself if I came close.

The thought would’ve scared me senseless in any other moment. But I was too far gone to think about how easy losing each other actually could be.

John sunk himself into me once more, deeper this time, with a bit more fervency. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, my back arching, chest lifting upwards. Another soft moan fell from my lips. If I could’ve been any closer to him, I would’ve been.

I needed John like I needed air.

“Oh, John…” I murmured against his open mouth as he leaned in to kiss me, my leg moving to hook around his.

He leaned up just a bit more to gain better purchase, beginning to thrust then. He was slow and calculated, his hand on my thigh to pull me closer as I held my leg around him. I bit into my own lower lip, tugging on it in another attempt at keeping quiet as he carried on. His stare burned right through me, intense and full of a love I’d never seen in anyone’s eyes before— no less staring back into mine.

My breathing seemed to escape me, his own chest beginning to heave. And every time he buried himself between my thighs, my heart felt as though it might stop. Needy fingertips found any flesh they could then, gripping onto him, nails running along his body as I became plagued with the urge to touch, to be touched; to encourage every movement he so beautifully made into me and against me.

The pleasure was so immense, the connection between us so extraordinary, that as we found ourselves irrevocably entangled within one another, my eyes seemed to grow wet on their own. There was no situation I’d ever been in before in my life that felt as striking and deep.. as perfect as this. I was awash with an emotion that, for once, even I wasn’t sure how to navigate.

John’s voice was a gentle growl in my ear as he leaned closer again, his pleasure deriving from me, all me, only me, as he bit into my neck. It was gentle, yet full of haste, my only response being a moan and a show of just what my nails could do to his solid back before wrapping around his broad shoulders.

Though the moment was full of sensuality, vulnerability and broken down walls, I’d never felt more safe.

My hips began to meet his, the blissful friction within my walls radiating wave after wave in all the right places. I was already hot to the touch with him, easily aroused and even easier to get to the finish line. No matter how badly I wanted the moment to last, it was impossible to keep the pleasure at bay. The way he picked up his movements just fractionally so, I got the sense that he was in the same situation.

The minutes felt like hours in the most sublime way as they passed by; as I fought to keep time stretched forever. But when John shifted, his taut member caressing already sensitive spots within me, I felt my control leave. My chest rose and fell, hands exploring his now hot flesh. His hand reached behind my head, and his fingers tangling in my hair with an instinctual ease that didn’t surprise me as he pulled at my roots lightly.

While I reacted to his pleasure, he reacted right back, acting accordingly to my every dead give away. My release was right around the corner, and as I felt the way he thrusted into me just a little harder; just a little quicker, I knew we were on the same track to beautiful oblivion.

His soft grunts mixed with my quiet moans, both of us becoming just a little louder, no matter how badly I wanted to cry out for him. My walls tightened around his throbbing shaft, my swollen bud spiking each time his hips rubbed against mine. The stars seemed to cast their shine a bit brighter over us as he held my gaze, his light eyes burning through me. There was a romance to the moment that I immediately knew I’d never have again.

Not with anyone else, anyway.

The inside of my thighs were coated with my arousal for him, his ease of gliding in and out sending me straight to the heavens. I finally cursed, gasping as I reached out for him again, taking what was mine and claiming it. There was nothing I ever wanted more than to feel every last inch of him, than to have his strong build smother me in the affection he so willingly offered with no sight of being released from it. And when I felt his body tense, his thrusts grow sloppier, more animalistic, carnal, I lost all control I had left just as he did.

When my name fell from his lips like a prayer, I’d never felt more idolized. I only hoped he felt the same as I returned the sentiment, his name leaving a sweet taste in my mouth each time I murmured it back to him.

My mind drew a blank as the knot in my stomach finally pulled free. There was nothing driving me any further other than John and the way he so spectacularly sent wave after wave of ecstasy coursing from my core outward, the sensation washing over every limb as goosebumps rose on my flesh and my breath left my lungs.

My walls drew him in with a euphoric ease, craving him all on my own, the wetness I’d already felt between us only growing as he continued to push through his climax. I rolled my hips beneath him, suddenly shifting into wanting nothing other than to satisfy him just as much as I was being satisfied, to heighten every sizzling nerve ending that connected within him.

His voice was a velvety rasp, his brow furrowing. His breath was hot against my skin as he leaned back down, his lips brushing against my own, suffocating me beautifully with the love we held so deeply and vulnerably for each other. His mouth moved downward, kissing and nipping at my jaw, my neck, as my frame moved with his.

I cursed happily, my voice a saccharine moan. Unable to catch my breath, my body trembled slightly beneath him as I felt another point of pressure building once more. I wondered just briefly if he could handle it to continue, but without much more time to think, I slid back into another peak, my back arching at the pleasurably painful overstimulation. Even if we’d truly been alone, the entire universe might’ve heard the way I wanted to scream, anyway.

My voice was louder this time, though probably still quite quiet in the grand scheme. His eyes met mine again, and I could see the satisfaction written all over his features as he absorbed every ounce of emotion and ecstasy I showed him— that he caused me.

While I wanted to grip onto the comforter, I couldn’t bear the idea of my hands leaving him. I couldn’t tolerate even thinking about being disconnected from his person. And as I rode out my second climax, my walls gripped his length relentlessly, no doubt over stimulating him right back. But he carried on, the look in his eye needing to satisfy me, needing to allow me any pleasure he could, deriving his own pleasure from it.

If I could collect a thought or two, I’d blame the stamina on being a Spartan.

The feeling was blissful as it sizzled into a slow burn, its radiant spread through my veins and under my skin retracting back to my entrance once more like molasses. I was still thoughtless, and John was still very much focused on the task at hand as he slowed to a stop. We were both breathless, entangled within one another as though parting might destroy us and all that we were.

He pulled himself from between my thighs carefully, almost reluctantly so. While the eye contact was still intense, there was something softer about it. Something warm, and sweet. It was as though we were both being dipped back into the world we were in, unhurriedly, deliciously, together. Something had changed, wonderfully so. Where I’d certainly felt like we were two halves of a whole, I now felt like there were no longer any halves at all.

We had simply meshed into one.

Thoughts began to ease their way back into my mind, though hazily so. And I could see the coherence return to him as he caught his breath— much easier than I. It was when a hint of a smirk touched his lips, that I felt myself smile in return.

I allowed my hands to drift from his jaw, down his biceps, dancing lazily over his muscles, absently in awe of what had just happened. I never wanted to move from the spot we were in. I wanted to relive it over and over until we were both spent— and then I wanted to relive it again.

After another beat, John scooped me up into his large arms, pulling me close with him as he laid on his side. We faced each other, his arm draped over me, both of us still coming down from the highs we stunningly inflicted on each other. The minutes felt timeless all over again as we savored what remained, not another word between us.

My eyes fluttered shut just briefly as his hand reached up to brush a few strands of -what I was sure to be matted, now- hair from my face. But as he began to smile, really smile, I felt my heart leap in a million different styles behind my rib cage.

I wasn’t sure I’d seen a full blown smile from him before. It was dazzling, completely infectious. It felt like a secret, or like some kind of hidden talent that the rest of the world was forbidden to see. I smiled in return, and he leaned in to kiss my forehead, the tenderness I was beginning to enjoy shining through.

“I’ll protect you with my life,” he murmured, his expression solemn again.

Be it that his life’s mission was to protect, to potentially die for his objective, or that the seriousness in his tone was unlike anything else I’d heard him say, that sentiment felt even heavier than the ‘I love you’ we shared before our rendezvous. I nodded ever so slightly, my hand reaching up to rest atop his as he held it on the side of my head. I squeezed his hand gently.

“I would die for you,” I expressed softly in return, my tone just as heavy, just as sincere.

And I meant it.

I really did.

-x-x-x-

Tags: @allthelovefromstylesxx, @grimistangel, @guiltgoldglory, @laurenstacy610​ 

thank you guys so much as always!! it means a lot that you look forward to my lil story! ♡

[thebootycrusade]

Oh man am i going to catch some heat for this but someone needs to say it at least once, and my hot take after reading wottg, even after reading a few other review post from notable blogs here, is that the pjo fandom here whos 20s+ needs to realize that they arent the target age demographic/audience anymore. Ive been reading the books since tlt hit the shelves, and even with that much investment i recognize that these are, at their very core, books still written for older kids and early-mid teenagers.

We've had books where characters die, get tortured, and explore other heavy topics on page, but face it, we as 20somethings will never going to get a cannon rrverse book that fully addresses the trauma or ptsd these characters have throughout the series because those topics we want explored as adult readers are way too dry and a little advanced for that age group to stay engaged, and actually chronicling the healing from them wouldnt be so easily explored in a single series. The trio recognizes that they have been through a lot even in demigod standards, but having the ability to talk and articulate through that trauma isnt easy when youre still in it. Being an adult with hindsight, i can recognize that parts of my early life were traumatic, but in the moment, was i able to recognize it as trauma or ptsd? no, i just knew it sucked. while i was in it or slightly removed from it was i ever really thinking about it in any deeper form past "well that fuckin sucked"? no. (does it sound like a familiar demigod anyone?). was i able to recover from it neatly and concisely in a couple months or years? no. and the most important part: could i do so in a way that would sound entertaining or even the least bit appealing to a 12yo when put into writing? Fuck no.

Even switching it up to ricks actual storyline, are there really mischaracterizations? or do we just think people stay the same from 12-16 or 16-18 especially after taking into account everything in the books? or are we just rewriting cannon to "fix" the timeline because now its not following the fanfic fanon timelines and characterizations again. Percy is objectively an awful and unreliable narrator throughout the books, but because we are only ever shown his view of a situation we as readers have to discern if he is reading a situation wrong or if we are. We already know all three of the trio are impulsive, capable of bad ideas, and still (surprise surprise) figuring out how growing as people works because its already rare for greek demigods to live into adulthood, so of course things will happen or are witnessed by percy that can be observed as being completely out of character. Lets be real, the trios entire past 6 years have been "plans with just enough 'winging it' for the world (and conveniently you) to survive" and now that they are finally given some breathing room together, would they really be cognizant of or care if something was "in-character" and consistent with all their past choices? did you make all the same choices at 18 that you would have at 12? 16? hell even 17?

[sirgawainofgalifrey]

are you proship?

Yeah I'd say I am generally. Like I don't subscribe to every ship, but I view it in more of a thought experiment/creative exercise sort of way.

I'll see a ship and be like, "oh, that's cute," or "oh, why does this exist," or "wtf". And then move on.

I do think what we engage with content wise has an effect on us, but that we also have the capacity to be capable of independent logical and moral judgement. A lot of anti shipping is part of the general big push to avoid anything uncomfortable in media. A lot of people don't distinguish between something being presented and something being supported. Which is why bad guys and characters in general have been getting more boring. (See the whole Sokka sexism debacle in the live action atla show).

I also generally believe that people have the ability to exercise reason in terms of what is actual good or bad behavior. The internet can warp our sense of reality but only to the extent that you let it. And if there's lots of weird harem anime and trash tv that's propagating bad things so I do not see shipping as the source of the majority of the bad influence lots of anti's are so worried about. It might be a symptom but it's definitely not the source.

(I also believe most of them just use those ideas to quash anything that disagrees with what they like, by jumping through mind hoops to get it labeled "pedophilia" or "toxic"

*cough* Wrightworth purists *cough)

I like ships because a character's personality and psychology are what I latch onto in a story, and putting them in different relationship contexts (romantic and platonic) let's you study them more.

And in the context of Ace Attorney I don't have a problem with NaruMitsu I just dislike the Wrightworth Purists going scorched earth on everybody else. So that's why I'm generally supporting all the ships they want to eradicate.

Anyway anon you should know better than to ask me simple questions I'm incapable of being concise.

TL;DR I'm a weirdo that likes to dissect emotions and characters under a microscope so yeah I guess I'm pro ship.