#I feel like I could say so much more on this topic

[the-palelady]

I love that u gave crime wife!reader a butterfly obsession like deep down she’s secretly super nerdy but her shitty husband doesn’t let her indulge in those things anymore.

Personally feel like Ghost would swoon at seeing her get all excited over seeing a certain butterfly or moth, especially ones she rarely gets to see.

I hope u write more of them in the future!!!

not but seriously he would fall to his knees seeing a woman like her, someone kept hidden from the outside world, get this sparkle in her eyes when she sees something she adores.

ghost, much like his name, ceases to exist when your husband is home. at first, you thought maybe him being there at all was just a figment of your imagination; your mind conjuring up some fake entity so you'd feel less lonely in the prison you were supposed to call your home.

as it turns out though, ghost was not a hallucination. in fact, he was a very real man who came around more and more as time went on. he knew your husbands routine, knew when he would leave the house for extended periods of time, and that's when he would make his appearance.

in the beginning, you never spoke, and ghost never pushed you to. you had grown accustomed to the silence between you and your husband, only ever speaking if he was scolding you or flatly informing you that'd he'd be gone for a few days.

ghost simply watched you water your flowers, sitting beside you on the plaid grey and white blanket you always brought out to sit on while you read. he spoke here and there, asking questions about the flowers you grew, what it was you were reading, or what you ate for dinner the previous night. admittedly, you found his awkwardness…reassuring?

it was like talking to others was unfamiliar territory for him as well.

you felt bad that you gave him little to work with. he was coming from a good place after all, keeping you company all through the afternoon and even late into the evenings while your husband was away. the least you could do was meet him in the middle.

but the more you thought about it the more you doubted yourself. you hadn’t talked to anyone besides your husband in so long. what if you sounded stupid? what if your topic of conversation was dull to ghost? you had been your husband’s little secret for so long, shut off from society, that you didn’t know much about current events, what was popular, what would be interesting. so you kept yourself shut out, continuing to only meet his questions with simple nods and shakes of your head.

until one warm summer afternoon when you sat on a gardening chair, looking over a gardening magazine that you’d read god only knows how many times.

ghost was situated in front of you, eyeing the magazine as well, not exactly interested but you supposed he was looking for something, anything to say. that was his usual way of driving the conversation and you didn’t mind it.

you flipped the page and he noticed a flower that looked awfully similar to a bed of flowers you had planted near the back door, to which he pointed at the page, and looked up at you.

“this where ya got the idea ta plant those?” he asked, gesturing with a nod of his head towards the pastel pink dahlia’s growing in the flower bed near the house. he looked over at the flowers, admiring the color of the petals and how well you had taken care of them until he noted how silent you had been. when he looked up, your eyes were practically bulging from your head, locked on something behind his shoulder.

however, when he made an attempt to turn around, your hands darted forward, keeping him in place before you placed your index finger over your lips, indicating for him to stay quiet.

ghost was beyond confused. even more so when you stood, shaking in your shoes as you tip toed to a large bush behind him.

“i can’t believe it…” a chill shot down his spine at the soft sound of your voice, a light rainfall trickling down during the spring.

he turned in his seat, being quiet like you had asked when his hooded whiskey eyes landed on you, hunched over, gazing at a butterfly that slowly flapped its wings together while it lay stationary on a leaf.

“wha’ is it?” he whispered back, and instead of answering with words, you beckoned him over. he didn’t hesitate to follow your command, a moth to a flame.

leaning forward, he consumed every last word you uttered to him, your voice music to his ears, a song he wanted to put on repeat.

“a purple emperor. i’ve never seen one before. they normally keep to the treetops in the woods. this one is probably a male, resting after his lunch.”

ghost felt his heart lurch forward at the sound of the giggle that left you, breathy and quiet, barely there, but there all the same.

“we should leave him be. i just couldn’t believe i got to see one. the purple on his wings was just too pretty to not want to get closer.”

when you turned to look at ghost, it took everything in him to keep himself from saying, “you’re too pretty.”

[bitchesgetriches]

A Message from Piggy & Kitty

Well, everyone… today is a dark day.

Soon, I know we’ll find ways to rally together and do what good people have always done in the face of tragedy. But today, it feels dishonest to pretend we’re not feeling despair.

Despair is the worst, ugliest feeling. It’s so painful, and so resistant to normal forms of comfort. Can’t say “I’m so sorry” because we’re not sorry—we’re furious, and so are you. Can’t say “it’ll be alright” because it won’t be—not for everyone. It feels like the earth opened beneath our feet, and we’ve fallen into a deep, dark pit together. More than anything, we wish we could make a ladder or a rope or even just a light appear. But we don’t have those things. All we have are words, and the only words that feel honest or helpful right now are “I love you, and I’m here beside you in this horrible place.”

So in that spirit…

Friends, we love you. We're here with you. And we're scared too.

We will bend all of our research and creativity toward generating ideas to help our readers prepare themselves for what's to come, and fight for a better future. But it’ll take a bit for those topics to develop.

I confess that today’s events stopped my writing in its tracks. It feels so fucking silly to write our little money tips while we are all down here, in the pit. But we will push through that feeling, because our mission hasn’t changed. In this dirty world, money is power. When people are desperate, they’re easy to exploit. Acquiring wealth and stability, without exploiting others, can make you righteously, radically powerful. And we’ll need as much power as we can muster to climb back out into the light of day.

If you need a space to vent your feelings, this comment section and our DMs are wide open. Check in with the people you love, and be kind to yourselves as you process this latest development in our shared destiny.

<3 Kitty & Piggy

[luimagines]

The Legendary Mermaid

Another commission!

They asked for a Legend and Reader where mermaids are involved. I'd explain more but I don't want to spoil it. XD

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Link didn’t think much of you at first. You were clumsy. Uncoordinated. One of the most ungraceful beings he has ever had the… um... pleasure to meet.

You spoke in broken Hylian but he could understand you well enough. When he stumbled into you on the beach he tried to go through the number of languages that he knew were native to the area but none of them seemed to click with you.

You were excitable and wobbly. You looked straight out of a ship wreck so you could have been from anywhere.

Still- Link wasn’t about to abandon you when you clearly had no idea where you were.

He took you into his village, set you up with a place to stay with some helpful neighbors and thought that his duty of care was done. He was wrong.

Turns out! You had a habit of running off in the middle of the day and going off to who knows where. The first time it happened, poor Gulley was in a tizzy trying not to panic because he thought you were just really good at hide and seek and he didn’t want you to miss dinner.But he couldn’t find you anywhere.

More people got involved.

They still had no idea where you went. Hours passed and the sun went down but no one had a clue where their strange and sudden visitor could have gone off to.

Link suddenly had the terrible thought that maybe you went off into the lake and something terrible happened. He ran as fast as he could but his panic happened to be unfounded.

You were there, soaking wet but otherwise unharmed, playing a small hermit crab that had somehow made it out of the water.

Link had half the mind to scold you, but your innocent giggles at the tiny creature had enough incentive to get him to calm down first. He bought you back where many of the aunties and elders fussed over you before giving you a warm bowl of soup and tucking you away for the night.

Your galavanting happened at least every other day. It didn’t take long for Link to realize that everytime you went missing, you were actually just by some body of water. 

He thought that maybe you just had a childish way of exploring. Or maybe you just liked to splash and swim. He wasn’t one to judge. He just wished you told people where you were going and when you planned to be back so no one would worry about you.

When you decided to stay in the village and interact with other humans for a change, you were like a fish out of water. 

You crashed into walls. You tripped over your own two feet. You would lose your balance at the oddest of times.

“Whoa!” Link caught you the arm before you could fall over and land face first into a pile of mud. “You know… You walk like a newborn deer.”

“What is deer?” You ask on impulse.

Link pauses and gives you a questioning look but decides to keep his judgment silent. Maybe there’s just no deer where you’re from. Somehow. Which would be strange considering how popular they are. Then again, you’ve never mentioned how you got to where they are or where you grew up. It seemed to be the only topic you actively avoided talking about.

“An animal.” Link says instead. “They have skinny legs and they begin walking on the day they’re born. The males have horns on their heads.”

“....Do they shine? Many colors?” You ask with a hopeful expression on your face.

Link hates to be the bearer of bad news, but he finds that he can’t lie to you. “Not really. They hide a lot so they look like golden grass and dried leaves.”

“Grass.” You stand up straighter, still holding onto his arm. “...Hm…”

Link has no idea how to respond to that.

“Yes.” He tries anyway. “They’re actually quite big once they’re fully grown. They’re majestic creatures.”

“Magic?” You tilt your head.

“No magic.” He shakes his head. “ Ma-ges-tic.”

“...Oh.” 

Is he going crazy or do you sound disappointed? Link swallows the spit in his throat, not sure why he feels the need to not only make you feel better, but to also impress you. “Most animals can’t do magic but they’re still very impressive. You know- if you want, we can always go into the forest and look for them. How’s that sound?”

You smile, but it doesn’t seem to reach your eyes.

Link feels his heart bob. He’s not sure if he’s doing this right. “Maybe tomorrow, yeah? After I’m done with my work in the forge, I’ll come look for you and we can go explore some more.”

Your eyes light up a little more genuinely and you nod enthusiastically to boot.

Link feels better about this suddenly.

Until tomorrow rolls around and you’re once again nowhere to be found.

Link wants to ram his head into the nearest wall. How could he forget? It was a ‘Go for a Swim Day’ today. It was part of your pattern. Did he just forget all his senses suddenly?

Groaning for the extra mileage he has to walk, he heads home first to collect some stuff for the journey. Surely you would be hungry at some point, right? Maybe he can make it a picnic too. There’s a nice spot that overlooks the valley that he knows of. You seem to be the type of person who enjoys the simple things his home has to offer.

Not only that but you seem rather focused on finding magical items. Or at least you try to find something magical in every nook and cranny. …He has a few magical items. That can impress you! He packs his magic mirror, his fire arrows and his mermaid tail. You’ll probably find a river or pond that you’d want to jump in. Since you love to swim so much, maybe he’ll join you just this once and show off a bit. Surely you’ve never seen anything like it.

Once he has everything set, he checks the nearby creek first- hoping you didn’t decide to splash around and find out.

Nothing.

Not a stone unturned and not a single piece of evidence that anyone had been here earlier. 

Link groans louder and turns on his heel to head down to the lake instead. He knows he’s being dramatic, but you’re not around to witness his pettiness, so he’s at liberty to do what he wants.

His feet are aching by the time he finally makes it to the lake. He kicks off his shoes to walk along the warm sandband before he begins his search anew. There’s not much that he thinks he has to look for. A bag? Some footprints? A discarded shirt or something? Your shoes by the side of the bank?

He finds… nothing.

“Where are you?” Link growls and flops onto the dirt. He pouts and puts his cheeks in his palms as he tries to think about what to do next. There goes his plans for the afternoon. And probably well into the evening at that. 

Link can’t help the sinking feeling of disappointment in his chest at the thought of being stood up. Not this was any big deal or anything- but he didn’t realize how much he was actually looking forward to this moment until he couldn’t have it.

Well.. He’s at the lake anyway. And he has the mermaid tail. He’ll get something for you. He can dive to the bottom of the lake and find something cool for you!

Link shimmies the tail on without a second thought and crawls into the water. The magic takes effect at once. He takes his first deep breath and pushes himself further into the cold. He feels his legs become intertwined with his item. The cold loses the sting the further he goes and although it takes a bit longer for his brain to adjust than he’d like, Link is quickly swimming deeper and deeper to where no other Hylian has gone before.

His eyes take longer to adjust. Considering he’s more worried about not forgetting that he can now breathe underwater, he’s still to ignore that little tidbit. All he has to do is swim straight down anyway.

Something moves to his left.

Link stops dead in his tracks.

“What?” He blurts. The sound he makes is warbled, broken as it always is when he tries to speak underwater.

In a split second, the figure blasts in front of him, sending him back a few feet. He brings up his arms to block any unwanted water from going up his nose and growls.

You poke his arm two seconds later.

“AH!” He screams without meaning to.

You seem just as perplexed and confused. You tilt your head and swim back just enough so that you can see him in his entirety. “Link?”

Your voice has changed too, but not quite like his does when he’s in this form. Your voice is clear as crystal and he can physically feel the waves it produces as they curl around his ears and his body.

He repeats your name with the same shocked reverence.

You break out into excited chitters and clicks, sounds he’s never heard before poke all around his body and he thinks he can feel the very effect they have on his brain.

You swim back over to him and twirl him around in earnest. You look delighted to see him here.

Link takes the moment to also look you over.

A mermaid.

He flushes when he sees more than he’s bargained for. Of course. What purpose do clothes serve to a mermaid?

You swim circles around him. The movement is graceful and borderline poetic, nothing like the way you move on land. Your tail was glittery and bejeweled with colors he hadn’t known could sparkle in the low light of the lake water. It trailed after you like a silk scarf or a skilled ribbon dancer.

He was staring.

You seemed to have caught on quickly that he was enthralled by your body. A part of you wonders why. Another feels the need to be embarrassed. You’ve dressed in the way of the finless for so long that you’ve almost adopted their shameful thinking to cover up one's form. The third and final part of you actually likes his attention. He’s impressed. Enamored, almost. This is the part of you that wins.

Smirking, you decide to metaphorically test the waters and dance around him some more, brushing your tail against his and pulling him this way and that with your dance alone. You swim away for just a second, wanting to play some more with the strange boy that can be of both worlds.

Link jolts out of the trance you’ve put him in and skips to follow you.

You laugh.

His breath catches in his throat at the sound of subtle trills and chirps. Link freezes completely in his spot. Your laugh tickles him even as he begins to sink from the lack of movement once more.

“You swim worse than a guppy.”

Link falters and the ethereal moment for him is shattered in an instant.

“Hey!” He says instead.

You laugh again, sending more pins and needles over his skin and tail and begin to swim laps around him, clearly showing off your superior swimming agility. You play with him some more, poking and annoying him but swimming away before he can retaliate and poke you back.

The game catches on from there.

Link is, unfortunately, in over his head and he has to admit proverbial defeat minutes into it. It doesn’t stop him from playing anyway. This is arguably the most free he’s ever seen you and he’s not about to ruin it anymore than his lack of grace does on its own.

It’s nice.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Thank U

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violenc, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bruce Wayne/Batman (Christian Bale version)

Summary: you try to thank the vigilante who saved your life.

In the same universe as Home Sweet Home

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

‘To Batman’ 

No, that sounds ridiculous. All of this is just absurd. You don’t really think this will go anywhere but you just need to get the thoughts out. After a sleepless night, you need to put it somewhere before it boils over inside of you. 

You need to thank the man who saved you. If that’s what he is. He seems inhuman with all that he does for Gotham. 

‘My hero’ 

Ugh. New page. 

‘Hi. 

You don’t know me, but you saved my life. I know I’m not the only one and I hope I’m not the only one to say thanks. That’s what this is. I know it isn’t much but I’m not sure how else to do this. 

If you don’t remember me, that’s okay. I was walking home and there was a man following me. Then two. Then three. Then you were there. 

And just as quick, you were gone and so were they. I didn’t get the chance to thank you but I got home safe. Because of you. 

Batman. My hero. 

I owe you my life. 

Stay safe. 

Just another Gotham citizen.’ 

You reread the letter and cringe. What are you doing? You’re crazy. Is this pick-me energy? 

Ugh. You just can’t get over it. Your heart races every time the scene plays out in your head. Those men, their footfalls echoing yours, getting closer and closer, penning you in as they came at you from all sides. 

Your shoulders rose as you shrunk down and braced yourself for a heedless fight. Then the sudden flapping, the crash and crunch of violence, the shadows at battle against the brick wall as you stood by helplessly. Then the silence and his grizzled command. 

‘Go home.’ 

You ran all the way there. You didn’t look back or stop. And you didn’t sleep. You couldn’t. The dregs of adrenaline are still in you. 

Fatigue finally sets in as the sun rises. You fold up the letter and slide it into and envelope. You don’t expect this to go well. You don’t know what you’re doing. 

You’re in the same clothes as the night before. You feel like you’ve been frozen. That night fogs around you like a cloud. So close... it could’ve been so much worse. You could have been another news story. Another body in and alley. 

You walk down to the precinct. You stare at the doors for a while before you make yourself enter. The last time you went there, the only time, they wouldn’t even file a report about the man who sleeps outside your apartment door. He went away though... just a few days later. 

You go up to the counter. 

“Hi, erm, I need to get this to Commissioner Gordon.” You say. 

The uniformed officer doesn’t look up. He laughs.  

“It’s just a letter,” you plead. 

“Girl, you’re wasting everyone’s time right now,” the man doesn’t look away from the computer screen. 

“Please,” you hold the envelope through the little gap under the thick plastic window. 

“What’s this? A love letter?” He scoffs. 

“Joe, don’t be a dick,” another officer approaches and takes the letter. “I’ll give it to him.” 

“Oh, thank you so much,” you preen. 

“Don’t know if he’ll read it,” he mutters. 

“He just needs to look on the outside,” you point. 

He flips the envelope and reads your writing; ‘Batman, c/o Commissioner Gordon’. He tilts his head as he looks up at you. He shrugs. 

“Whatever, it’s a reason to stretch my legs,” he wiggles the letter between his fingers. “Have a good day, ma’am.” 

“Thanks, officer.” 

You turn and scurry out of the precinct. You don’t think the caped crusader will ever see that letter but at least you tried. It might not help you sleep at night, but it will be one less thing keeping you awake. 

[darcytaylor]

Nicola’s message is a reality check that everyone should listen to. We can - and need to - do better. (Harper Bazaar Woman of the Year Awards)

For a while now, I’ve been saying here on my blog: speculation is not fact. We don’t - and never will - know the ins and outs of anyone’s private life, especially when it comes to someone like Nicola Coughlan. Yet so many people see her holding hands with someone and jump to conclusions, acting like they’re gospel truth. Can we please take a moment to think about why holding hands with a guy is somehow “evidence” of a relationship, but when she holds hands with female friends, no one bats an eye? (and no this is not where I want you to go into detail about all of your reasonings why she is dating someone, the point is WE DON'T KNOW - because we don't actually know her! And if someone says otherwise, they are lying!)

Even if Nicola is in a relationship, let’s remember that we don’t actually know anything about it, which is exactly how it should be. And for those hinting about pregnancy, even if they’re trying to be subtle with terms like “delicate position” - it’s beyond invasive, and it’s honestly FUCKED UP! People know exactly what you're suggesting, and Nicola called that behaviour out directly in her speech. If you’re focusing on her body rather than her work, you’re part of the problem. (You can read my pinned post where I go into more detail why speculating on pregnancy is fucked)

If Nicola doesn't like the way the media is portraying her, it's unlikely she would appreciate fans doing the same thing. Sometimes, people try to justify their actions by separating the media from fan behaviour, but the impact on her is the same. We need to remember that our assumptions, even if you think they are innocent, can be damaging.

What fans talk about often drives what the media focuses on, because they’re chasing clicks. If people weren’t feeding into it, the media wouldn’t have as much to go off.

What the fans talk about and what the media produces, go hand-in-hand, and ignoring that is a big part of the problem. Trying to justify it doesn’t change the fact that it can still affect Nicola - especially if she’s made it clear she’s uncomfortable and hates these narratives.

Nicola’s speech was a call out to reconsider how people engage with her personal life. I know I’ve been working on doing better, and I think everyone else in this fandom could stand to do the same. Instead of spinning theories about her relationships or appearance, maybe we could all step back, respect her boundaries, and celebrate her for what she wants to be recognized for: her achievements and her talent. Let's try not to make her whole personality about a guy.

Nicola took a stand on the insane focus on things like her relationship status, age, or dress size - topics that constantly overshadow her career and accomplishments. You can tell it's exhausting for her to be boxed into these labels, and she deserves better.

One of the best parts of her speech last night, for me, was when she praised her longtime inspiration, Victoria Beckham, who was right there in the audience. Nicola talked about how much Victoria meant to her growing up, especially for how she handled herself through nonstop scrutiny. Both women have had to deal with some of the same pressures -where fans and the media feel entitled to critique and dissect every aspect of their lives.

Nicola made it clear she’s tired of being defined by these things. People are more interested in latching onto rumours about her relationship status (even though we have zero confirmation of who she’s dating) or making guesses about her body, including potential pregnancy, all because of how she looks on any given day. This rush to define her identity based on whether she’s seen with someone or holding hands? It’s reductive and invasive.

Honestly, Nicola’s message is a reality check that everyone should listen to. We can - and need to - do better.

To the bigger creators: you especially have to do better because I can see some of you fuelling everything that Nicola hates. (I actually don’t think it’s the people who ship Luke and Nicola because that is part of her job, that is part of Bridgerton and her work, it’s a testament to how good of a job both her and Luke did, Nicola understands that). But the people who are shipping her with people outside of her work? DO BETTER!

And yes, I am also putting myself in the category of doing better. I think it’s imperative to look at past behaviours and strive to do better and be better.

EDIT: THIS PICTURE IS GORGEOUS! The flowers, the lighting, the vibe. It's perfect!

[lurkingshan]

Hi Shan

I've been watching your commentary on Peaceful Property with regard to its mishandling of its class conflict themes and I have to admit that I'm coming to agree with you on it.

I had to basically go "Welp, I can't see how they get out of the mess they've made now - I guess I just have to give them a pass on the grounds of found family?" in order to keep enjoying the show, which did let me do that but also left a bit of an icky taste in my mouth.

So I guess I wanted to ask - do you think there's a way they could have handled the wealth disparity and classism issues more gracefully within the show's narrative? And also whether there are any QLs you would recommend that do handle the topic to your satisfaction? I could use something good to watch!

Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I feel like you always make me consider topics more deeply and reflectively, even when I don't agree with you.

Hi, thanks for dropping in! I feel you on this, and I want to be clear that my criticism of the show is not criticism of people who still like it despite these failures. If you have still been able to connect to the friendship and family themes without this getting in the way, that's great and I'm glad for you. Just because the show is doing one thing very poorly doesn't mean there's nothing of value in it.

That said, you're right, they've passed the point of no return on their missteps with the class disparity themes. Early on in the show, after several episodes in a row of ghost stories involving poor or working class folks harmed by Home's wealthy real estate developer family on top of the class disparity between Home and Peach/Pang, I said I was confident that the show had something to say about this issue. And that was true! Unfortunately, what it had to say was garbage.

To your first question, I actually think it would have been very easy for the show to handle the wealth disparity and classism issues more gracefully, and that's a big part of my frustration. They had all the ingredients--a family history of exploitation, a ghost busting team including working class folks to shed light on the family's sins, and an ignorant grandson uncovering wrongdoing case by case and learning that there was always a price for his privilege. All the show needed to do was allow Home to come to some natural realizations about his family's treatment of others, via both the ghost case work and his relationship with Peach and Pang, and then use the power and resources he has to take accountability in the form of restitution and reparations to the people and communities they harmed. My ideal story line based on what they set up in the first half of the show would have had Home setting out to right his family's wrongs and take real steps to restore the communities they harmed. Even if a full on wealth redistribution narrative was too much to hope for, at the very least Home should have been made to reckon with what his family did and set out to do better in the future, both by Peach and Pang and by his family's countless victims (including Kan).

But that's not what we got. Instead, the narrative tried to sell us on the idea that none of this is anyone's fault, and that any harm that came to people at this family's hands was the result of a "curse" or one bad apple's wrongdoing. Instead of saying anything meaningful about systemic inequality and the responsibility of the wealthy and powerful to avoid extractive and exploitative practices, they painted Home's Gramps and family corporation as benevolent, concluding that they destroyed a bunch of people's lives by accident and without intent or even knowledge. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how utterly absurd and insulting that is. On top of all that, despite Home being the one with the most power in this little friend family and making some very serious mistakes that caused harm to the others, the show consistently centered him and his feelings in all conflicts, including Peach's near death and the death of Kan's father and destruction of her community. It also ignored the very real stakes it set up for Peach and Pang's dire financial situation whenever the plot demanded. The second half of the show became all about the poor people Home and his family have harmed forgiving him without any accountability because they felt guilty he was sad, and then those same people spending their time and energy fighting to save this rich family's reputation and livelihood. That's not me offering an interpretation, that is what literally happened on our screens!

So yeah, it was bad! It was clear weeks ago that it was not going in the right direction, but I understand holding out hope that they'd pull a rabbit out of a hat or look into the camera and say sike. But that ship has sailed at this point, and Peaceful Property becomes another in a pattern of GMMTV shows that try to incorporate class disparity in their narratives and get it very very wrong.

Which brings me to your second question: are there any QLs I recommend that do this better? Yes! Here is a short list for other Thai shows that have genuinely done this better:

Moonlight Chicken: not a class disparity narrative, but the only GMMTV show to date that has depicted working class people with full dignity and empathy

Dark Blue Kiss: the only GMMTV bl to tell a romance story that involves class conflict and not completely bungle it (snaps to TayNew for having another show that did better on this)

My Ride: a slow burn romance between a doctor and a motorcycle taxi driver that gets the way their class disparity would shape their relationship right

Love Sea: this one isn't perfect (I think the working class character in the pair gets too little narrative attention relative to his rich counterpart) but it does take the class disparity seriously and ensures it informs the relationship the whole way through

Laws of Attraction: don't laugh at me, I'm serious! This show is mostly absurd but the core narrative is all about class conflict, and it informs the romance quite thoroughly, too

The Loyal Pin: including this one on the word of @twig-tea because I haven't watched yet, but I understand it's dealing with class very directly in its core relationship (with the disclaimer that it still has two episodes to go so something could go sideways)

I'd also throw in some shows that aren't really about class disparity but do include it as part of the narrative background to inform characterization and plot like I Told Sunset About You, Love By Chance, Khun Chai, and 3 Will Be Free

Outside of Thailand, South Korea is always a safe bet for strong class disparity narratives, and in QL you'll find the best examples in Hwang Da Seul's works (Where Your Eyes Linger, Blueming, To My Star 2, and currently Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo). Japan and Taiwan actually don't do much of this, because most of their shows are about middle class and working people as a rule. Miseinen, a Japanese BL that just started airing, looks to be tackling a class disparity narrative, though, and doing it well so far (not a coincidence that the source material is from Korea). And We Best Love is a classic Taiwanese BL with a significant class disparity informing the romance conflict. Blue Canvas of Youthful Days is a currently airing Chinese BL that is doing a class disparity romance and has been killing it so far.

So there is my incredibly long answer to your questions! Thank you again for sending me this kind note; I'm so appreciative that we can chat about this stuff and still maintain our love for these shows. I hope you find some things you like on the rec list, as well. :)

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 6

Hello! And welcome to another chapter of this very underrated fic. Thank you to everyone who has given it love in the way of comments, reblogs/tags, and likes.

It's London calling! And we meet a Murray Bauman in the wild. Eddie and Steve get a little introspective and Steve does something rash.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

Their trip through the haunting and beautiful Ireland was amazing. So many tales and history. This is why Steve wanted to do more than just America like Eddie had originally wanted, because America just didn’t have the history Europe and other places did. Not unless you wanted to disturb actual First Nation people and that was something he wanted to avoid at all cost, thank you.

They were on the ferry from Northern Ireland to Scotland and Steve was looking out over his shoulder at the water as he leaned against the guardrail. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the wind to blow through his hair.

Eddie slid his arm around him and Steve laid his head on his shoulder.

Today Eddie had his beard and faux-dreadlocks in a light blue button up shirt and cream colored wide-legged pants. His chunky sunglasses covered the his face.

“You know,” Eddie murmured, “until we reached this leg of our journey and you started to disguise me, I didn’t realize how much I missed just being Eddie Munson, regular guy. I can really see the appeal of you and friends’ way of doing it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Of course it means that we can’t go all out and buy everything we want, stay in fancy hotels, show up at restaurants without a reservation and get in. But I can go into my local grocery store and buy two tubs of mint ice cream because I felt like it.” He lifted his head to look Eddie in the eye. “Like some Karen would judge me, but it’s not going to go up on TMZ that I’m letting myself go.”

God, Eddie had had that happen more times than he cared to count. Like once Chrissy was on her period and he went to go get her chocolate, Ben and Jerry’s, and pads. Before he even got to his car it was all over the internet that he was letting himself go, just because it was 2am and his best friend needed something to help her feel better.

“You think you’ll ever come out?” he asked, pulling Steve in closer.

It was a familiar and well-worn topic of theirs; whether or not Steve would ever come out as bisexual at least.

He ducked his head and looked away. He didn’t know. He didn’t like hiding parts of himself for those he loved. He would like to tell people this is the love of my life.

“Would you leave me if I said no?” he mumbled, not daring to look up.

Eddie placed his finger under Steve’s chin and lifted his head gently. “Of course not, Stevie. There are literal actors who have been married for years and no one knows. It’s just between them. We could do that too. Just a quiet ceremony, Robin and Chrissy as the witnesses, and a justice of the peace.”

Steve let out a weak sort of watery laugh and shook his head. “I want all our friends there, famous and otherwise. I want a full tilt party with music playing into the early hours of the morning. I want fancy tuxes and flowers galore. I know I might not get that, the absolute coward that I am. But if I marry you, it be to scream from the rooftops that I love you.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “Softy.” Steve blushed. “Besides there is nothing in the world that says we can’t have it both ways. Have a quiet little ‘just us’ and then go full tilt when you come out. You don’t even have to tell anyone. Just a little comfort that I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “I’ll think about it.”

Eddie kissed him deeply and then tucked his head under his chin and they stayed like that until the ferry docked in Scotland.

~

God, Scotland and England were beautiful countries Eddie decided as he watched the rolling green hills from his train window. That was another thing he really liked about Europe in general, just all the different ways to travel that weren’t a car.

He looked over at Steve who had his glasses on and reading a book. He smiled at the title. His boyfriend wasn’t a fantasy fan or science fiction either, really, but put a clever mystery in his hands and you would have to pry to the book from his cold, dead fingers.

He glanced over at Chrissy and Robin who were playing Go Fish! They had asked him if he wanted to join them, but he passed. He rarely got time to just relax and watch the scenery go by when he was on tour. He was always doing something related to the band. Writing music, practicing, talking about the next venue, interview, or TV spot.

Him and his friends had fun, because of course they did. But it was nice to just let his mind wander. Currently he was sad that they were going to have to miss Wales this time. He really wanted to buy some Welsh gold jewelry. It’s super rare and absolutely gorgeous.

Maybe he would have to come back later and get something special for Steve. Just something simple like matching bands even if it wasn’t on the left hand. Or necklaces. Just something simple to prove they were it for each other.

“I made an appointment with a well-known tattoo artist in London,” Steve said nonchalant, but like he was reading Eddie’s thoughts.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to Steve. Robin nearly giving herself whiplash in her speed.

“As your friend, manager, and platonic soulmate,” she said darkly, “I advise against that. You can cover it up but someone, somewhere will see it.”

Steve looked up from his book and leveled her with his best bitchy glare. “Not if it’s on my ass.”

Chrissy and Eddie’s eyebrows shot up and they shared a shocked glance. Eddie always loved tattoos, he had a couple of stick and poke style ones from when he was young and stupid and couldn’t afford to pay for an artist to do the job, but there was one place, well technically two if you included his dick, which he absolutely did, that he refused to get a tattoo on and that was his ass. Not being able to sit down properly for what would probably be weeks was not his idea of a good time.

“Not really, though, right?” Chrissy asked with a grimace.

Steve took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Of course not really. Sheesh, you guys. But I hid fucking hickies from the both of you for a year and you never noticed, so I’m pretty sure I can hide one fucking tattoo.”

Robin and Chrissy shared their little ‘manager’ glance and Chrissy folded first.

“You’re right, Steve,” she said calmly. “Not once did you forget or slip up and you should be applauded for that. But is there a reason you’re deciding to get a tattoo now instead of waiting until we’re back in the States and you can use Eddie’s personal artist?”

He looked over at Robin and their little telepathy thing went off again and this time Robin folded first.

“It’s for Eddie,” she murmured. “They can’t be out as a couple and with Steve being the romantic that he is, wouldn’t want to get married without all his friends there, so this is his way of telling Eddie he isn’t going anywhere either.”

Eddie blinked for a moment. “Do you think they take walk-ins?”

“I booked it for both of us.” Steve smiled at him and took his hand. Eddie beamed back at him.

“They are so disgustingly cute,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms. “I bet Steve has this really sweet idea for a tattoo that even if people do notice it they won’t be able to tell the meaning but he and Eddie will know and be so sickeningly precious about it.”

Eddie gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. “I love my super clever boyfriend and can’t wait to see what this brilliant plan is.”

~

Steve’s brilliant plan was half of a white mask on Eddie’s inner wrist and half of guitar on Steve’s and when they held hands it formed almost heart.

The tattoo artist was really impressed with the idea and was more than happy to implement it. Steve walked out of there, completely smug as Chrissy pointed out. Deservedly so.

They were to stay in London for three days because of all the haunted places in London alone, there were so many worth visiting. They were going to start at Jack the Ripper tour and move onto the tour of London.

The tour they learned with deep dismay had accidentally been scheduled at 2pm and not 2am like Eddie had thought it said. It was so boring and their tour guide so dull, Eddie accidentally tripped of one of those concrete pillars they had in the middle of the sidewalk to prevent cars from driving up on it.

“Oof!” Eddie wheezed as he straightened up. “Why do they even put those things here?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” a nasally voice said from behind them. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”

They all turned slowly to see a weaselly little bald man with thick horn-rimmed glass.

“Holy shit,” Chrissy said slowly. “Murray Bauman, as I live and breath. What the hell are you doing in London?”

He shrugged. “Eking out a living doing tours for bored tourists. When the biggest metal band in the world drops you, so does everyone else.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a grimace. Corroded Coffin had deliberately did that to Nancy after the shit she pulled with Steve and trying to be The Fallen’s agent. But this one was a complete accident.

“Oh fuck off,” Robin said with a grin. “You love it. I can tell. You have actual notes written down, you have a map marked with all the spots the murders take place. I bet you have all the great stories.”

Murray flushed and cocked his head to the side. “I mean I didn’t want to brag. But yeah, certainly better than Molly over there.” He jutted his thumb at their tour guide. “Most of the good ones are from tour companies and then you get people like Molly who make it look legit online and trick people into taking day tours.”

“God, I was so bored,” Eddie huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I felt jet lagged.”

Murray’s eyes instantly narrowed and cocked his head to the side and instantly everyone else tensed up. He took in their reactions and mimed zipping his mouth shut.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “if you’re still in town tomorrow, meet me here at 9pm and I’ll give you a proper tour.”

Chrissy licked her lips slowly. “Or what?”

“Huh?” He was confused for a moment before he smacked his forehead. “Oh! No, no. I’m not going to blackmail you. Holy shit. If people want to enjoy a vacation without all the publicity, good on them.” He looked Eddie up and down. “Looks good on you kid.”

Eddie was suddenly glad for the large sunglasses and beard because it hid the blush on his cheeks.

“No, I’m just saying,” Murray continued, “that if you wanted to experience a proper Jack the Ripper tour, I’m willing to do it. I don’t have a tour currently booked and beside I like her.” He pointed at Robin, who grinned back him.

The four them all shared glances at each other.

“I’m down,” Steve said with a shrug. “If you’re as good as you say you are and aren’t trying to actively ‘get back’ at Chrissy for taking your job, I know I’d be interested in seeing what Whitechapel has to offer after dark.”

“I like him too,” Murray said brightly, rubbing his hands together. “So what do the rest of you say?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Steve’s three menaces said together.

He just smiled fondly and shook his head.

~

Part 7

Tag List: CLOSED

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2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

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10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina

[asgardian--angels]

I don't talk about this much but I'm just going to say it now.

there's something uniquely vile about being the daughter of a father who is a trump supporter. and not just a casual supporter, a full drank-the-kool-aid moon-landing-was-fake deep red neonazi maga crackpot. because I had to watch that change happen over the last decade. my father, an intelligent, introspective scientist, whose brain has essentially turned to mush and critical thinking skills shriveled up and died thanks to that orange rapist.

He has always loved me, supported me to be whatever I want to be, given me the most opportunities he could in life. He taught me to be kind, and forgiving, and to remember that we are all in this together. And now, while still claiming to feel that way, he vehemently, and viciously, spews hateful rhetoric and vitriol against women, against climate change, against democrats, against all the things I am, against the field of study I've dedicated my life, my soul to. We can no longer even have a regular conversation because all he does all day is sit online and watch trump rallies, listen to 'patriot' podcasts, and troll people on forums. He has nothing else to talk about, and cannot be negotiated with. Him and I used to love having sparring matches of wit, picking topics to debate in good faith. Now, any hint of a challenge and he becomes enraged, petty, and belittling. He somehow maintains this hypocritic fallacy in his mind that he is a good person, that he does everything to make my life better, and that humankind must come together to make a better future. Just, not *those* people, I guess, not them or them or them who aren't even people to him.

And I must occupy some gray area in his mind, Schrodinger's political prisoner. Because even though he knows I am a democrat, that I am a woman who will be affected by these laws, that I study climate change in the work that he supposedly supports, I must not be to him, one of 'those' people. I'm not like 'those' democrats, 'those' women, 'those' climate change cronies. Except when I am, because if we argue, if we discuss policy at all, I am just a girl, under his roof, and I have no idea what I'm talking about - because I'm young, because women aren't capable of understanding His greatness, because Elite Academia has brainwashed me into being a liberal. That my mom and I are ganging up on him, constantly, to paint him as the villain when he's only the victim. He's going to elect the man who will save us all, whether we want it or not. Our say doesn't matter, because we just don't understand.

I miss the father I knew. He was always petty, always ready to poke and prod - he hurt my feelings plenty, but I could deal with it. But I felt he was genuinely good at his core, that he tried his best. Now, I don't know him. I don't recognize him anymore. I've imagined so many times what I would say to him if I could give a speech, or write a letter, where he could not talk back and just had to listen. I don't know if I'll ever get that chance, or take it. But I know he has truly no idea how hurt and betrayed I am, and he wouldn't believe me if I told him. He knows no shame, and he does not apologize.

I'm not looking forward to spending the winter at home with him every day for two months. I don't see how I can look him in the eye. And how dare he look me in the eye after fucking me over.

I love my father, no matter what, and that's why it hurts me so badly to see him change into a stranger, and wonder if there was anything more I could have done to change his mind before this transformation completed. Knowing that it's not my responsibility to argue with him to try and make him see reason when he's too far gone and all it does is make me feel like shit, and yet.

I'm sorry to everyone who may relate to this within their own families. It's probably going to get worse. These men will feel empowered to speak their minds and force you to hear it. They try to provoke you, just so they can say you're hysterical or overreact as women do, when you get reasonably upset. Know that you're not alone in this, Trump has truly torn families apart in ways that I don't think will ever heal.

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Hiiii! Here's a scenario, so its a day in devildom and MC touches a forbidden book and gets trapped inside it for 2 weeks. I swear the bros will go ✨️frenzy✨️. Luv your writings ^_^

Hello! This is something I feel like MC would definitely do in game. Thank you for enjoying my writing as well!

*context/backstory*

You feel amazed as you roam the halls of the library within the castle. There were books of every genre and topic on top of anything you would even think to question about devildom deep inside. You were just browsing out of boredom. Your eye catches a quite pretty book. It had gems all along it's sides giving a sort of glow to it. You look around for a certain butler demon before suddenly grabbing the book and opening it. The first page read 'Curiosity killed the cat' and you were suddenly sucked inside the book. What a drag.

Lucifer

He was the first to learn of your disappearance. He instantly put his hand on his forehead and let out a heavy sigh. He knew his brothers would be unbearable without you around. He tried to maintain order but couldn't exactly do that without you by his side. He would never admit it but he came to be dependent on your presence. He found himself going back into his old ways of not sleeping and being more snappy to his brothers without meaning to. He tried to busy himself with work but within the second week he felt himself growing even more tired than he was. He even held his face how you would have craving you that much his pride be damned.

Mammon

Well as soon as he heard he immediately went to the castle and demanded that barb do something about you. After a long argument he didn't gain a solution since barb couldn't bring you back due to the books non-existent past or future knowledge. He immediately sulked wherever he was at. His happy go lucky energy completely drained from him. He would be a whining mess at home. He eventually couldn't take much more and left to the castle talking to the book as if it were you.

Levi

He at first was like "Oh this happened in one of my favorite anime's!" Then he immediately felt extremely sad. He was a loner usually but felt himself craving your presence. He holed himself in his room even more so than usual. Not going down for breakfast, lunch or dinner. He even asked Lucifer for chores within the house walls so he wouldn't have to leave. Even missing his anime conventions since they just didn't feel the same with you gone.

Satan

Him being himself immediately searched his library for a way to get you back. When he found himself surrounded by books with no direct solution he found himself hopeless. He reverted back to his old ways alike his older brother. His temper wasn't as bad as before but the smallest things would get him so annoyed and irritated and he became more snappy as well. He started to read romance books thinking of him and you in them. He always felt sadness even when with cats just because it wasn't you who was with him.

Asmos

Once he learned of your disappearance as well he immediately stormed to Lucifer and begged him to find a solution. You two were supposed to go on a shopping spree! He started to hide out in his room finding himself less and less energetic and not craving people's attention only wanting yours. He even skipped certain beauty things he would never dare to do. He also wore less flashy things and more his pretty pink pajamas all over the house not finding the energy to do anything else like he usually does.

Beel

He was obviously very saddened but as always he didn't say much. He tried to go about his day but once he went into the kitchen finding one of the brothers making dinner and not you he actually didn't feel that hungry for food. He did eat of course but not his usual amount he actually wanted to go to his room where he could hold the plushie you gave him. It smelled of you and he didn't like being away from it for long. He did keep up with his normal lifestyle but his stoic nature was broken as it was obvious he was upset to whomever passed him by whether it was his brother's or strangers. He missed you so so badly.

Belphie

He actually was fully awakened when he learned of your disappearance. He immediately went to watch the stars remembering the one you two shared and staring at it until he fell asleep. He actually slept less and less craving things such as your clothes for your scent or your blankets and pillows. Eventually he just laid in your bed and hoped he would wake up and find you beside him. He would whine to Lucifer that everyday is getting harder without you and that he needs to fix it not accepting that there isn't a solution. Beel often times has to calm him down and they have to find comfort in each other both just repeating how much they miss you to one another.

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

November 01 - Great Hall | word count: 787 | @wolfstarmicrofic

Today, is a great day.

It is such a good day; Sirius is certain he is still dreaming. But he never dreams good things, things that make him feel like he is floating, things that make him want to stay in the haze of sleep, things that are entirely welcome. And yet, some part of that is true, because for once, he did get his dreams. His life is no longer a blur of pain and self-resentment, but rather illuminated by a golden ray of autumn sunshine. Because Remus is finally his. Well, no, he is still his own person, but Sirius can hold his hand, and kiss him, and snuggle close in his arms and… well, he can wake up next to him in the morning, content and not afraid of the nightmares.

It's been a month now since they’ve officially gotten together, but the novelty hasn’t worn off, and he isn’t entirely convinced it ever will. After years of pining, then months spent driven apart by his deceitful mind and a stupid decision, then another handful of weeks spent vying from across the room, they are finally here, and Sirius isn’t going anywhere.

He blames this unburdened feeling on the unnecessary risks he’s taking today. Sitting glued to Remus’ side during breakfast, tangling their legs together under the table. The not-so-subtle glances he keeps casting to his right even as he tries to keep them to a minimum. He tries reminding himself that Remus wanted to keep this as a private matter, but how can he look away? How can his eyes find any more topic more interesting than his boyfriend. His boyfriend! Just the word makes him a bit giddy inside, trembling a bit.

So, what he does next shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does. He rises from his seat with the promise to meet the others in Transfiguration after his quick trip to the owlery. But before he leaves, he betrays Remus’ trust once again. He leans down and kisses him, lingering for a moment before pressing another to his cheek. It’s only as he is standing back up, that he realizes what he’s done. That’s when the dread sinks in, an icy cold drip into the pit of his stomach, stopping his heart and squeezing.

He tries apologizing, but all that comes out is a choked sound.

So, he does what he does best when he ruins things, he flees. He spins and swiftly makes his way out of the Great Hall, doing his best to ignore all the burning hot gazes searing into him. He should have known better than to think he could have something as wonderful as Remus in his life. He should have known better, and he should have pulled away before the crash and burn. He should have known better, and now he will be cast out by his friends, and the entire school will think he is a freak. He should have known better. He should have—

“Sirius?”

“You don’t have to say it, Remus. I already know we’re done. I don’t… I don’t think I can bear hearing you say it.”

“Wha—no. Wha are you going on about?”

“You asked me not to… you wanted to keep this private, and I… I mucked it all up. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Now everybody is going to hate you even more, and that’s my fault. I’m sorry, I’ll make this right, I promise.”

“Sirius,” He says, gently cupping his face. Sirus’ mind screams at him to pull away, but his body leans into the touch. “You didn’t mess anything up.”

“Of course I did.”

“No, you didn’t. I promise. I thought you would want to keep things quiet for now, because of… well, this is new to you. I’ve dated boys in the past, and frankly, I don’t care what people think about me. I wanted to protect you; I didn’t want you to panic and spiral and pull away again. But I promise, you did nothing wrong, okay? If you want to kiss me in the Great Hall, hold my hand in the corridors, go ahead.”

“I… really?”

“Sirius, you have to know I’m properly gone for you, right?”

“I—oh I’m so lucky I got to you first.”

“Little do you know that I was waiting for you.”

All Sirius can do in response to that, is kiss him. To pull him in closer, and kiss him. Other students are leaving the Great Hall now, but Sirius isn't going anywhere. Because Remus is precious, and Remus is his, and Remus doesn’t care of other people know. It doesn’t matter if they know, because he is Remus’, and together they will face anybody who dares think otherwise.

Yes, today is a great day.

[throwing-in-the-towel]

i have one thing to say on the sandy thing, and it’s unfortunately both sensitive and topical, so, i understand if you don’t post this, but:

in the book, steve tells ponyboy that sandy’s parents moved her to florida to live with her grandmother because she’d fallen pregnant, and they wouldn’t allow her to marry soda at 16.

and then darry later tells pony that the kid wasn’t soda’s.

i think it’s heavily implied that her parents made her get an abortion, but in a ~read between the lines, context clues~ sort of way. if anyone’s seen the stage play of the outsiders, sandy’s in more than a few scenes, and her being there doesn’t make complete sense given what we know? it almost feels like a lack of reading comprehension on behalf of the adaptive author.

i think the way the musical handles it is much better, in the same way that the movie also cut sandy’s character (they did cast her, there are photos of rob lowe with her actress, lynne hathaway anthony). i do think the plot line is important to soda’s character, but there’s a lot that’s said in the book in a sort-of code that you only get so much stage or screen time to depict, and i understand why it was something they decided to cut

like as much as i would love if they could keep every detail of the story, they don’t have time to really dive into any characters except pony, johnny, and dally in the show. and cherry arguably. they definitely give the characters more depth, i feel like part of that just comes from seeing them live in front of you tho, but there’s no room for every character nuance that makes up the novel

[everybody-loves-purdy]

same Duskfur anon but now i want to talk about other cool things Duskfur did that proves she should've been a complete asshole: - Was willing to attack Jayfeather (a blind medicine cat) - Attacked Cloverfoot (Shadowclan deputy) - Mocked Scorchfur - Met with Berryheart - Mocked Tigerheartstar - Supported Frostpaw's exile to a degree (for mocking Tigerheartstar when he took her in) - Argued about Frostdawn training as a warrior - Argued about Icestar being temporary leader - Once again literally argued Mistystar to death and shown little to no remorse afterward - Argued about Harelight being Frostpaw's mentor - "I'm not convinced the living world needed saving." Just wanted to include that quote from her Also Duskfur is just interesting to me as a character. Her kits have no listed father, so I like to interpret it as the father being a rogue. ik a lot of fan interpretation is Reedwhisker being the father, sorry lol. but a rogue is just more interesting to me. It also makes more sense to me. Podlight has white on him, and is shown to be at least partially a point. Neither Duskfur nor Reedwhisker have a hint of white or is a point (Reedwhisker is described as a black tom). ik warriors doesn't follow irl cat genetics, but Duskfur has unknown parents, so my headcanon is that recessive point runs in the bloodline, and that Duskfur is just a tabby masking point (having the colorpoint gene but not expressing it, thus being a tabby instead) from her parents, and the recessive gene passed to Podlight who expressed it bc the rogue was a colorpoint. how Frostdawn is a colorpoint despite neither Curlfeather nor Jayclaw being described as colorpoints is beyond me. Mistpaw being a tortoiseshell could be explained if the Curlfeather's father was a point w/ white (which is rare but possible), and Jayclaw's side of the family--cutting myself off here before i get completely off topic I would say a kittypet could've been the father, but Duskfur seems to like Leopardstar, who was aligned with Tigerstar I. Obviously that's not saying much in these books, but if Erin Hunter authors were better writers, she'd most likely have some sort of prejudice. Also, despite Tigerheartstar fighting with her, he appointed her as temporary leader. I think it was Finchlight or Sunbeam who said that he liked her for some reason. Literally how?? Did they have a conversation off-screen? This also leads into Duskfur being robbed of deputyship in Star, since she, along with Icestar, were chosen as temporary leaders at one point. hell, I'm pretty sure Jayfeather mentioned at some point that Duskfur was doing Mistystar's job for her, which makes sense imo. she never seemed inclined for leadership, but she also seemed to never turn down the chance when it was offered. I know she's old and everyone and their mother wants a young leader, but I just want someone in power who's an asshole, young or not. I don't think we had a decent one since Leopardstar and debatably Blackstar. Everyone else since then has been "nice" (broad spectrum; Tigerheartstar can be considered nice despite being a bit of a problem) if they weren't antagonists. i want someone who will cause issues because they were mildly inconvenienced, and mean Duskfur would've 100% did that considering she mocked Scorchfur for choking on a mouse (or something similar). Frostpaw also seemed to value Duskfur's opinion to a degree. iirc Duskfur was one of the cats Frostpaw wondered about in regards to Owlnose being accepted as temporary leader. I cannot say the same for Star bc I haven't read it yet (I only read spoilers), but it seems even nice Duskfur in the prologue on the website STILL argues with Frostpaw, even if she's more subdued about it. i could talk more about Duskfur in general (and Riverclan cats actually) but i feel like this ask is getting too long but if i could pretty please send more Duskfur/Riverclan asks that'd be lovely :D also sorry for the tangents lol

This is great stuff, some really good analysis about her!

Erin Hunter please read this and respond and give us mean Duskfur again from now on thank you

Also about an asshole leader I can 100% see Crowfeather being an asshole if he ever makes it that far

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

My blog is generally pretty lighthearted and I stick to reblogging art and fic and fun stuff, but you know what. I feel like I need to say this.

I am a trans teen in the US. I'm seventeen, so too young to have voted. I'm terrified for my life right now. I usually post about college but I'm actually concurrently enrolled in high school still and the kid who sits behind me in first period government is a massive Trump fanboy. I'm going to have to go to high school Monday and talk about the election. I'm going to have to hear my deadname called and hear people in my super conservative high school talk about how happy they are Trump won. Everything is terrifying. I walk outside of my house and I'm scared I'll be shot. Several months ago I promised that I'd kill myself if that bastard won.

He did and I'm still here.

I'm not thriving. I'm not living my best life. I'm barely living. But I'm surviving. I'm coping. I'm trying my goddamned best. It's hard. I want so bad to just go and take as much medication as I can and slit my wrist for good measure and pass away in my sleep. But I'm still here. And I will be here.

I am in so much pain. But I'm living on spite and determination and everything I can scrape together. I know I need support and those around me need support. So consider this a support masterpost.

Support:

First thing you should see if you're a trans person in the US.

Here's a link to the Trevor Project and here's a link to their suicide hotline page. They've already saved my life once before. Please note - they recommend calling if you need immediate support. Donate if you can, please.

This post is both a suicide hotline masterlist and a post mentioning how something feels deeply wrong here with this election.

On the topic of something being wrong, sign this petition. I'm only seventeen but I did this and it might not feel like much but if we couldn't shoot that bastard (I am not pro-gun but I am when it comes to him) then we'll do the next best thing. Here's the link to the petition itself. Make sure to check the post every once in a while - the original petition got taken down and this is important.

I follow a lot of gimmick blogs, so I got to see this post encouraging us to be loud. Because we should be. Because if we die they've won and my mom didn't smoke weed on the steps of the state capital of Colorado to legalize it just so her son could roll over and die.

Here is the Tumblr Hot Beverage Masterpost, as I've taken to calling it. My personal favorites are the London Fog in the replies, earl grey with milk, honey, and vanilla (in the tags), and some additions from me are hot chocolate with peppermint melted into it, earl grey with lavender, caramel apple tea, and really anything else you can think of. Trust me. This post works better than you think.

Read this post if you haven't seen it already. It's half poem, half Tumblr being Tumblr, all wonderful to read.

Things I just like to see:

PM Seymour and Bettina Levy both have shown their support for everyone struggling right now. It might not be much, but I still really appreciate it and seeing support can really help.

The cat with the kind and reassuring face. No other context.

Four panel comic of hope. Because you're more than enough.

Can't find the post where I found this but this is a link to a virtual toy where you can make your own galaxy.

Please. Eat something. Drink a hot beverage. Draw, write, read, knit, sew, sculpt, bake, do something that helps. Reach out to friends, even if they're online friends. Talk to someone you trust. Make vent art. Write vent fics. It doesn't matter what you do as long as it helps.

Do not roll over and die. Live. Live on spite. Live on determination. Live on shitposts and live on heartfelt stories like this one. If you have anything to add to this post please do. Add more resources. Add more love to this post. I know I'm just a guy on the internet saying shit, but I still care about everyone who sees this post.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

The doorbell buzzes. You loathe that noise. You stay as you are, unbothered by the visitor. You already hear Kitty asking Adrienne who it could be. 

You continue to shuffle through the contents of the cigar box. You’re neither surprised or disgusted by the love letters. You know your mother’s writing and you know it isn’t here. You always assumed your father was rotten to the core. No, you were certain of it. The proof only makes you feel worse for your mother. 

The door opens. There’s voices. Soft tones. Kitty’s, Adrienne’s and... his. 

Then, footfalls that ascend the stairs. Too heavy to be your sisters’. You close the box and toss it in the black bag. There is not box to keep. All your father’s stuff needs to go. You have no use for it. 

“You know I’m here,” Barnes says as he appears in the doorway. 

“I do,” you take the old baseball your father made you catch as a girl. He was always disappointed he never had a son. It makes you want to smile knowing he never got the thing he wanted the most. 

“You’ve had your time to mourn,” he says, and nothing else. His meaning is clear. 

You drop the ball and get off the floor. You cross to him with your head down. He’s stoic and still. You reach for his hand. That makes him flinch. As if he’s surprised. He lets you lift it and you kiss the ring on his pinky. 

You let him go and look him in the face, “he’s gone. It’s over. Let’s move on.” 

His brow arches and his eyes narrow. “You understand what happens now?” 

“You take care of my sisters. That’s all that matters to me.” 

“All about family,” he remarks. “Well, real family.” 

You’re silent. You don’t know what he wants you to say. Your heart is in your throat, can’t he see it beating there, choking you. 

“I showed you my loyalty. I did that and I will never tell a soul.” 

“Oh, I know, doll,” he smirks and shifts his weight. It’s your turn to wince as he brushes his knuckles along your cheek. “I don’t just want that loyalty for one night.” 

You blink and fight not to let your fear show. It’s all so uncertain yet deep down you know exactly what he means. It just seems all too much. 

“Sit down,” he drops his hand and turns. He shuts the door. 

You avoid your father’s bed and instead, sit at the vanity where your mother would perch and apply her night cream. He paces and puts his hands in his pockets. He exhales and measures the air. 

“It’s sorted. Everyone knows what happened. Vengeance is taken, the tables are balanced,” he says. “So we move forward. Your sisters are protected. They will have roofs over their head. You will too.” 

You stare at him, waiting for the other shoe. 

“Doll,” he tilts his head, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Just say it,” you sniff. 

“Say what?” 

“Tell me what it costs,” you sneer. 

He snickers, “that’s what I admire about you. You don’t beat around the bush. You come to my office, tell me to off daddy. You won’t even let me charm ya, dammit. You just wanna get down to business.” 

“Please,” you beg. “I... I can’t take any more.” 

His expression softens and he approaches you delicately, like an animal he doesn’t want to scare off, “we’re gonna have a big wedding, doll. You’re gonna wear the most expensive thing you can find, and we’re gonna drive off into the sunset together.” 

You gulp and search his face. It sounds ridiculous. You don’t know this man, he doesn’t know you. Yet, he’s the only man who knows what you did. Who know that you could do something like that. 

“Ah, come on, I’m a real man,” he unbuttons his jacket and reaches inside. “I’m more than words.” He takes out a hexagonal velvet box. “So, let me know if it fits.” 

You hesitate but accept the box. You open it with some effort, the hinges are tight. You snap the lid up and stare at the ring within. It has a large teardrop diamond at the center and four decent sized ovals to each side, with little round diamonds worked in between. The gold gleams with the elaborate style of the thick band. 

You slide it out and turn it in your fingers. It has to be worth more than all the stuff your daddy pawned off. More than even this house. You roll it over again and line up your finger with the band. You push into it and it fits snugly below your knuckle, covering half your finger. 

“Too big,” you say. 

“Loose?” He wonders as he leans a hand on the vanity table. 

“No, it’s... clunky,” you wiggle your hand. 

“Never thought I’d hear a woman complain a rock was too big,” he says. “Doll, I expect you to show off. You’re mine, I’m yours. That’s something to brag about.” 

“Flashy. Distracting,” you comment. 

“Any man stupid enough to try to steal that off ya, he won’t be thinking much longer,” he insists and grabs your hand. “Come here.” 

He tugs you until your standing. He admires the ring on your finger and his cheeks dimple as he grins. He puts your hand on his shoulder and wraps his other arm around you. Sweat beads across your scalp and down your back. He’s so close you can smell his mellow cologne. 

“Always good to have more to love, isn’t it?” his fingers curl into the cushion of your hip as he crushes you against him. He brings his palm up to cradle your face as his eyes drift down to your lips. He purrs and rocks you.  

You shudder as your breath catches in your chest. The idea never fully bloomed in your head. You never dared to imagine this. Yet here it and it’s more startling than anything you could ever fathom. 

He turns his hand to frame your chin and pulls you even closer. He leans in and presses his mouth to yours. His beard tickles you as his lips caress yours and his tongue pokes out coyly. You close your eyes as you open up to let him in. 

Your heart thrums behind your ears as you seal your deal with that kiss. You didn’t barter for your freedom, just another master. 

[mickeym4ndy]

Alternative Storylines

One of the reasons I don’t love the “Mickey came back from Mexico for Ian” storyline (unpopular opinion I know but hear me out) is because of how many more interesting storylines we could’ve got if Mickey had come back in a different way.

For one it would’ve been so interesting to see Ian deal with the fallout from the gay Jesus and prison storyline without Mickey.

Like we know Ian has always thrived when he’s had a purpose and a goal to work towards with first the army, then being an EMT. After prison when he didn’t have either of those, he had Mickey - he found purpose in being a good partner and husband, in getting them out of the south side and earning a living legally. It’s one of the reasons he was so excited about the move to the Westside. In season 11 after he quits the warehouse job we see how much it affects him to not have that purpose anymore (in his mind) and how low it makes him. Mickey helps pull him out of it and makes him shift his focus to a new job that brings on new opportunities and new goals - moving out, expanding the business etc. and we see him come back to himself and think about the future positively again. If he didn’t have Mickey I don’t think that would’ve happened so easily. I honestly think that once he left prison the reality of his actions would’ve really hit him hard and we would’ve seen him spiral similarly to the start of season 6 - “This is it for me, Lip.” In his mind he’d be back where he started after working so hard to get to where he had been. He alludes to it when he says “trying to find the strength to look for another soul crushing dead end job.” It would’ve been SO interesting to watch how he deals with that and see how he pulls himself out of it and comes to terms with his life again.

ALSO there would’ve been a cool callback to season 6 with the storyline of Ian moving on with his life while Mickeys is stuck in prison, except it could’ve been Mickey moving on with his life while Ian is stuck in prison. This would’ve been interesting to explore because I think they’d both understand the other’s actions/feelings so much more. I think Ian would’ve had to deal with the guilt & reality of how shit everything was for Mickey while he was in prison and his own role in that. BUT also I think Mickey moving on with his life would allow him understand more why Ian couldn’t have given everything up to go to Mexico with him and also maybe some of Ian’s actions in season 6. And how they deal with those feelings while finding their way back to each other would’ve made for pretty scenes I think.

I also have more thoughts on how this would’ve given Mickey a chance to have his own growth and development without Ian (which also would’ve been SO good to see) and if he were to come back to Chicago on his own terms, there’s a chance we’d have gotten to see the dynamic of a Mickey who got his life together and Ian who’s life is somewhat in shambles. Not that I think it actually would be in shambles, but I think that’s definitely how Ian would view it himself and witnessing that dynamic would’ve been so interesting.

Would it have been happy? Probably not but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t have been decent TV and character development.

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love