#also he makes literally every single woman there uncomfortable

[genderqueerdykes]

hey anon saying "my abuser was a trans man so trans men hate trans women" I just want you to know I'm a transmasc person who was literally abused horrifically on the basis of sharing a similar pronoun and gender identity to my then-girlfriend's ex. she used the abuse of an entirely unrelated person as an excuse to insinuate I never respected her and would regularly scream at me and even invalidated my trauma over a relative dying using her own trauma.

she also, unsurprisingly, was a rampant transandrophobe, calling me horrible and transmisogynistic because I challenged her as a trans woman over saying blatantly transphobic things about trans men and transmascs (myself included).

because it was never about truth, it was about being on top and being the most inconvenienced and being in control of the conversation of suffering (this went beyond us fighting over my gender).

think why you feel that way, that you need sole dictation over the conversation and can't let anyone else breathe their words about experiences that may challenge how you feel, anon

if I were to do what she did, and say I was uncomfortable with trans women because they can be abusive, I would rightfully be ripped limb from limb for the transmisogynistic notion that trans women are remotely a monolith or are abusive based solely on my experience

but I guess trans men aren't owed that same equivalence. they are forced to live a double standard there. because you don't respect us enough for it. why is that.

"because it was never about truth, it was about being on top and being the most inconvenienced and being in control of the conversation of suffering,"

"if I were to do what she did, and say I was uncomfortable with trans women because they can be abusive, I would rightfully be ripped limb from limb for the transmisogynistic notion that trans women are remotely a monolith or are abusive based solely on my experience"

i had to highlight these bits in particulare because good god you worded this so perfectly. i am so sorry you have had this experience but you knocked the ball so far out of the park that i am genuinely in awe of how well you conveyed this, and how absolutely fucked peoples' double standards are when it comes to abuse and how people think that trans men and mascs have it "so much easier in life". you're dead on the money. NONE of this has to do with talking about oppression and looking out for one another.

this behavior is about control.

it's about controlling the narrative. some people literally get so insecure when the conversation turns away from them for even a moment, they think it means that everyone is their enemy. yes, trans women have an absolutely awful time in cisheternormative society. so do trans men.

i have been emotionally and sexually abused and harassed by 3 separate trans women. one of which struck me with an object, another who stole something out of my purse while i was asleep and continuously kept trying to get in my pants after she found out i had a vagina despite me repeatedly turning her down, and another who mocked me for my psychotic episodes and repeatedly swore up and down that i didn't have DID and just in general gaslit and emotionally abused the fuck out of me. the woman who hit me also constantly kept insinuating that penises are what make a man a man, and would not stop making me feel bad for not having a biopenis.

once everyone found out i had a vag, suddenly, i was a cishet woman in their house and i was public enemy #1. i had to deal with my cis gay male roommate shrieking about how he's gay, boobs and vaginas are disgusting, he's a MAN attracted to MEN. meanwhile, my ex girlfriend (the one who hit me) made me feel like shit for being a man without a penis almost every single day. she would guilt trip me about how she missed being with partners with biopenises and would spend all day telling me that she loved me, but then would turn around and scream and yell at me and tell me that i'm an evil asshole.

the transandrophobia i have had to deal with at the hands of other trans women has been absolutely fucking staggering. we need to stop fostering a culture where this is okay because it's genuinely getting people hurt. like you said, if a transmasc were to say "i hate trans women, they're all mean and shitty and abusive," they would literally be torn limb from fucking limb. and rightfully so, because it's a dogshit thing to say. but we HAVE to start telling people who do this to trans men to fuck OFF and stop it.

i am very sorry you went through that. i hope things improve for you, and that you're able to spend time in company that treats you with respect. nobody should have to deal with literal profiling just because of their gender.

is that what we're doing now? profiling people based off of their gender? how is that progressive? how is that liberating? how is that trans rights? it ain't.

[k0yaz]

CAN I PLEASE REQUEST A MIZU X FEM READERRR

The reader gets captured by Fowler and Mizu rescues her, the reader is basically another medic, very kind and sweet, polar opposite of Mizu, but she knows Mizu is a woman and the two of them fall in love. Meanwhile when she sees the condition that the reader is in (beat up, used, etc) she literally is like for a second "lowkey I don't need his info lemme kill him." But ofc doesn't do it, comforts the reader, taking off her blue kimono and giving it to her, wrapping her in it and picking her up and carrying her out of the castle <3 while whispering words of encouragement to her. This time it's Mizu taking care of the readers wounds, and she like becomes ringos little assistant to help work on her.

If you want to have them have a pre established official relationship you can! And if it's not too much trouble, please work on this as fast as possible. Thank you so much for your time!

animosity of an onryō.

Pairings: mizu x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, wuh luh wuh, mention of injury, violence, blood, gore, tw fowler he will always be a tw in my eyes, reader got fucking crucified my gods, basically like how taigen was being tortured but worse, guys I’m still recovering from the fact that I found out people ship mizu and fowler unironically sendnhelp, mizu goes genuinely insane like she did in ep 6, mikio is mentioned I hate him more than fowler, I should’ve censored that old bitch’s name sorry guys, not proofread.

A/N: I LOVE HOW THIS TURNED OUT SO MUCH OH MY GOD I FEEL LIKE IM CRAFTING A SPECIALLY MADE MEAL FOR A QUEEN IN A SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME PLACED AS A SPECIFIC TIME BASED ORDER YK also this is how well I write when I’m not rushed and don’t have school and enjoy what I’m writing I’m so glad I have the free time and motivation brain blast to write this rn anyway mizu come home the kids miss u 🕯️

Blurry figures writhed in the line of your fogged periphery, the burning ache of your wrists seared into the wooden board being accompanied by screams of pure anguish and rage in the background. You couldn’t utter a single word as you caught sight of the two people pushing against each other with a heightened murderous intent clouding the area, harboring an awful atmosphere of bloodlust in the vicinity. It wasn’t difficult to immediately identify the figure on your left as Fowler, his broad shoulders and bulky stature quickly making him recognizable.

Coughing out, you uncomfortably writhed against the board, back dragging along the splintering wood as each crimson trickle of blood dampened your clothing. The noise in your ears only vibrated in an agonizing ringing sound, reverberating through every fiber of your body, etching itself into the confines of your skull as your head began to spin from the sheer ache tightening your muscles.

“Where the fuck is she?”

You recognized that voice.

It was one which you found yourself bounding through several stages of affection with. One that you feared, yet also adored. You used every bit of strength you had to tilt your head up, focusing your bleary vision onto the leaner fighter looking up at Fowler with nothing but pure hatred. You were far away from the two, yet you could recognize those piercing blue eyes anywhere, taking note of the bloodthirsty glint that always shone in them at the mere sight or mention of her targets.

You could only watch in your crucified state as Mizu’s elbows dug into Fowler’s push back on her, teeth grinding together as she let out a breaking yell before driving her katana into his shoulder, earning a hiss of pain from his throat. You only found yourself, drowning in the infernal fury of the ongoing fight between them, masking the air with a deathly thirst that could not be quenched.

“You really..really want that damned girl back don’t you? Pitiful little lady wouldn’t even open her mouth no matter what we did, might as well cut her tongue out.” Fowler rasped out, voice morphing into a chuckle gurgling from the blood rising in his throat as he grasped his wounded shoulder. Mizu’s anger only heightened at his degrading words, each movement of her sword against his torso becoming more and more intense as her temper thinned. “Abijah Fowler. You will tell me where (Name) is before I make you regret the very moment you decided to be born.”

Suddenly, a wicked smile quickly replaced the flash of fear in his eyes as soon as it appeared, his head nodding off to the side in your direction as he seemed to raise his eyebrows toward you like some sort of signal. Mizu followed his eyes as she kept her menacing demeanor up, glancing over in the same direction he was locked on. Her eyes widened with nothing but absolute terror.

Her grasp on her sword briefly faltered, almost clattering the metal against the ground as she took in your battered form, loosely hung from the two nails confining your palms into the bloodied wood like a butchered animal. Nearly every single inch of your skin was doused in crimson, various wounds tainting each limb. Whether it was a slash from a knife or a flattened bridge of skin from a hammer, any horrific type of torture that could possibly be conjured up was present across your body.

You parted your lips weakly as you caught sight of Mizu’s racing sights fixed onto you, attempting to call out her name despite the sting that bit at the back of your mangled throat.

“Mi..zu..”

She only felt her heart sink at your brutalized stature, your life barely hanging by a thread as you were practically mauled—rendered to the point of being unable to even scream. A sudden flare of contempt erupted in Mizu’s eyes, feeling a bubbling sensation of fury finally snap within her as she saw you hanging like a ragdoll. Slowly, her head turned back to Fowler, fueled even further by the smug expression plastered across his face.

You couldn’t even register what was happening anymore past the screams, only being able to hear the sodden rips of flesh and blood alongside Mizu’s remorseless onslaught of cries, bashing Fowler in with a blinding wrath which left even her unrecognizable in your view. The well-trained and cold samurai who seemed calculated with every move she performed, no matter how brutal, was now tearing at a man with no coherent thoughts present in her mind—only hate.

The rancorous barrage unfolding before your eyes nearly made your chest ache. Sure, despite your sweet nature completely opposing Mizu’s unfeeling one, you had always acknowledged the importance of her revenge. You knew that she had to kill the remaining three men who had potentially soiled her very existence by bringing a monster into this world, and you were supportive of it.

But this? This wasn’t what she was aiming for. This was just her lusting for blood, seeking to make them suffer more than her own satisfaction required. And it made your pulsing veins nearly run cold and stop.

“Aha. You need me to get to the other two..you can’t get to them without-“

“I don’t care.” She snapped, tightening her hand around the tsuka of her blade to dig through the first layer of his forearm and saw at the bone; earning a scream from Fowler which seemed as if it was elicited from genuine terror and pain this time. You finally hunched your shoulders back to use every drop of energy you had left coursing through you, yelling out for her to stop.

“It’s no..t worth it..stop it, please..”

Your choked out noise almost instantly made the scorching fire within her subside down to a tiny flickering flame, her blade embedded in Fowler’s side pausing at its cut midway. Looking down, it had finally seemed that she had come to her senses, breathing ragged and shallow as she yanked out her katana with a grunt as Fowler toppled to his knees.

Using his immobile state as an opening, she quickly rushed toward you, hands swiftly twisting at the nails hammered into your palms as you whined out hoarsely in pain. Her heart only clenched at your strangled noises, taking your holed hand in hers tenderly as the nails cluttered onto the floor. Mizu wanted to circle her arms around you tightly, squeeze your body against hers and dig her face into the crook of your neck while whispering sweet promises to never let you go again. Yet there was no time to act on what she wanted now. All that mattered was getting you out of that god awful castle where you had been abused past a breaking point.

Your head spun as you focused on Mizu’s face splattered with blood, her worried expression contrasting the violence that she had put on display not too long ago. “It’ll be okay, (Name). Hang on.”

Shrugging off the dark blue kimono fastened by her obi, she scooped your limp body up in the fabric, allowing you to bask in the warmth of her tattered clothing as she held you to her chest.

“I’m sorry.”

She paused, muttering against you once more.

“I should’ve never left you like this. Thank you for being there for me.”

Her uncharacteristically soft whisper brushed over your cheek, hand ghosting the blood seeping through the blue fabric shrouding your wounds, yet she couldn’t care any less about how messy her clothes got. As long as she could get you back.

…

“Now let me be there for you too.”

In one swift motion, Mizu clamped her teeth around the blade of her katana while you were swayed up in her grasp, using her own body to ram into the window and shatter it as the two of you descended down from the ninth level down into the freezing waters below.

Shards of glass flipped through the air, spinning as they scattered in all directions and occasionally grazed your already broken skin. You felt yourself swallowing your own breath in the icy pits of water engulfing both you and Mizu, her arms fastened around you like a lifeline as she held you close. She wouldn’t get caught up in her revenge to let someone precious die. Not this time. Perhaps she had changed from who she once was, transitioning from a cold blooded killer who clear out anything blocking her path, into someone who poured her heart out for a woman who was her polar opposite.

You couldn’t stay awake much longer, the border between life and death currently wavering in and out of sight and disappearing into an uncertain gamble between the two. Eyes shutting as the numbness spread to every inch of your body, you laid back, allowing yourself to be submerged in the blue embrace you had tainted a sickening red.

—

“Is she alive?”

“Master, be patient..she has a pulse but I don’t know if she’s even conscious right now.”

“How can I be? She practically got ripped open by Fowler! Even then these wounds look far too gone to even come close to healing..”

“They’ll heal, trust me.”

Muffled voices exchanged between two people echoed in your ears, a sharp sting interrupting any train of thought you had going on as you became well aware of your consciousness. A sore ache throbbed across every inch of your muscles, contracting tightly as you could quite literally feel the slits ingrained into your body. From what it felt like, they seemed to be stitched up, with a damp cloth pressed against the formerly open wounds.

You slowly blinked open your eyes being met with the dim light of a candle bouncing off the wooden floor. Your back was pressed against a tatami mat as you lay still like a corpse, the biting throb still twitching across your taut muscles. In an instant, you caught the sight of Ringo’s face hovered above yours, his eyes looking off in the distance as his blunt hands were situated on his lap. He was humming to himself while staring elsewhere, possibly waiting for you to wake up.

As soon as he looked back down at you, his expression contorted into one of surprise, delight following up almost instantly. “Master! She’s awake!”

You heard a rush of footsteps thudding across the floorboards, before the silhouette of a lithe woman’s shadow loomed over you, hands planted by her sides. Her slender fingers traced over your battered knuckles, thumb brushing along the torn off ridges of skin still healing before breathing out a long awaited sigh of relief.

“Mizu..?”

She nodded, squeezing your hand a bit and urging you to not strain your voice too much. Her downturned expression harbored a light of vulnerability striking off her cerulean eyes, as if she was mortified at the possibility that she would never see you open your eyes again. Ringo nodded in her direction with a smile, standing up and heading out the front door into the front of the unfamiliar cabin-like structure you were enclosed in.

Wasting no time, Mizu bit at the thread in her hands, pinching the needle between two fingers in the other. “Hold still.” Snaking her hand below your sagged arm, she lifted up with ease, pushing the needle and thread in tandem as you sucked in a breath to endure the searing push of the needle through your skin each time. She carefully stitched up the exposed wound, looking up at your face twisted in pain with her own expression of pity.

Your breathing came out in shallow gasps for air, the wounds still having a profound impact on your body as it was quite difficult to move your limbs without it feeling like being torn apart, much less retain your ability to walk around normally. You found that you were still curled up in her kimono, serving as a sort of padding against your back, layered atop the tatami mat. Honestly, it was a great substitute considering there wasn’t a futon anywhere in sight around here.

Ringo came back in, holding a bowl between his stubby hands as he carefully set it down beside your head to cool, harshly blowing at the steam wafting from the bowl. Once he deemed it was cool enough, he signaled Mizu to lift your head up—to which she did, as he held the bowl carefully, making sure it didn’t slip from his grasp. You swallowed each pour of the soup-like meal down your throat, being able to drink a bit easier after each swig.

—

Ah. What you would do to go back to those times.

You had always trailed behind Mizu with a smile, never leaving her side no matter how many times she had grumbled out for you to leave. Every moment spent with the stoic samurai had held nothing short of your heart racing beside her, as if you were in a realm of bliss no matter how harsh she was with you at times. No matter how many gruesome battles you found yourself walking into at her side, no matter how many times you stood at the brink of death and nearly toppled off the edge, you didn’t regret even an ounce of what you experienced.

For some odd reason, you found yourself captivated by Mizu, drawn in by the cold blue eyed samurai. At times, you even suspected that there was more beneath that ‘unbreakable’ exterior than she was letting on. The two of you had found yourselves closer than you could ever imagine, heart to heart with every wretched and dark secret burrowed in the crevices of your souls, yet still choosing to adore even the most monstrous sides of one another.

Even when you found out that it was a woman who lingered beneath the facade of a man, your view of her didn’t change at all. In fact, your trust only grew, knowing full well you saw a vulnerable side of her that very few had experienced.

You had taken the parts of her she deemed as impure, the parts she kept hidden from others along with the raw hatred engraved into her very existence, and huddled it into the warmth of your affection. Allowing the supposed animosity of an onryō to be hemmed between your arms as you poured our every drop of love you fostered within you to the demon.

You recalled a bunraku puppet show you had once seen, depicting the vexations of a woman who had fallen to once again arise as an onryō. Yet it was clear, that the tempestuous being had only risen from anguish. From the fact that it had been betrayed once, torn apart and trust crumbled right before its very eyes.

Perhaps that’s what you saw in Mizu. A broken woman who seeks nothing but satisfaction, completely shooting down the prospect of happiness at all. Despite how truly shattered she was from the inside, you didn’t mind it at all. You wanted to pick up each shard yourself, piece it back together slowly & carefully. Even if it slit your palms and stained them red.

The supposedly hardened walls she had gradually came down around you, her vulnerability shining through her guarded front. You were right. She had been betrayed by everyone she knew to ever exist, one of them being her late husband.

Mikio. You never knew him, yet his name alone left a bitter taste in your mouth. You promised—no, swore on your own life that you would never betray her in the way that man did. She was your top priority, the only one in this world you would ever feel so strongly towards. So strongly to the point where your bones lit up with a roaring flame of passionate adoration whenever you were in her arms. Mizu was everything to you, and you would rather die than let that change.

Till death do us part was a silly phrase, as you knew that you would grasp onto her, even after your pulse ran cold.

—

“Are you feeling any better?” Mizu inquired, her hand still supporting the back of your head. You mustered up the strength to nod briefly, returning her a smile which made her chest flutter just from the sight. Leaning into her chest, you breathed out a huff of air, clearing up your chest as you were slowly recovering and regaining the ability to breathe. Finally, you were able to speak up, albeit in a strained and raspy voice.

“You know..I never thought that the one whose injuries I always treat ended up treating mine.”

“I suppose that’s life’s cruel way of throwing irony in our face.”

Mizu’s face beholded a somber expression, one that made you tilt your head in confusion as you opened your mouth to ask.

“Hey-“

“I put you in danger. And even then, you endured all that just to stay alive.” She cut you off as if she predicted that you were about to ask her what was wrong, her voice seemingly held up as if it was threatening to break any moment. “I shouldn’t have. I thought that was the last time I could ever tell you that I love you.”

Your still discolored hand reached up to brush against her cheek, to which she was met with a look of surprise.

“(Name)-“

“You know that I would rather die than ever stop loving you.”

Mizu only hummed in response, carefully taking your recovering frame into her arms as she pressed a chaste kiss to your temple. To which you held back onto her with shaky hands, fingers weakly digging into her back.

“Thank you. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thank you for my ember.”

A/N: I am deep fried rn this took so long but I love how it turned out I was far too passionate in writing this I’m screaming yippee

I listens to every bes ost while writing this (and ended up crying at some of them) forgive me but this deadass took like a whole ass 5 hours to write but tbf I did take like a 30-40 minute break at some point sooo

Anyway I love this request so much thank you for making a special request too cause that just fuels me to write good ily

[nobodybetterlookatme]

I ended up getting a lot of writing done today, so maybe I'll get something finished within the next month lmao

[hand-face-chan]

Uhhhhhhhh..... I have some........ thoughts.

Whoops! Sorry everyone!

the thomas thorne affair is clearly better than redding weddy. this is not a judgement on redding weddy but the thomas thorne affair is the third-best episode of the show and redding weddy is not

[iiiiiiis-things]

"But you're the only one that's holding me down!"

pairing- bsf!satoru x reader

cw- igs angst idk i js needed plot to build up, fluff, highschool toru

analysis- your ex leaves you & satoru gets stood up

a/n- HEY PEOPLES i just wanna thank you for all the support and love yall are giving me im close to 1k and i wanna do a special so ill be having a poll posted soon, also this story was heavily influenced by strangers things season 2 when nancy was dancing with dustin !

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"are you fucking shitting me ?" your stern voice could be heard by your ex, who was standing in front of you dancing with another girl but quickly removed her away from him the second he saw your face. "is this what you meant by be right back? to go blow me off with this bitch?" you point to the girl he was dancing with, completely shocked because not to be rude but you knew your self worth and this was just down right disrespectful. "baby i swear she's just a friend-" you tune him out making an overly dramatic eye roll as you feel your eyes began to water, honestly you didn't even know why exactly this little situation had you threatening to spill tears.

your ex was embarrassing you nothing new before- this was the same routine, the same cycle, and he had the same excuse every. single. time. you wanted to quite literally punch yourself in the face for falling for it yet again.

There was something in your gut telling you going to the snowball with your ex would have horrible results, yet you ignored your female intuition and went anyways, now you stood here looking so idiotically stupid in front of everyone as your confront this piece of shit. honestly ? you weren't even close to being as upset as you were embarrassed. hell the only reason you found out what he was doing on his "bathroom break" was because your friend pointed him out with a "uh girl- ain't that yo man?"

"bottom line is- you mean more to me than she does" is he serious ?.. "oh so she means something to you? just not as much as me right" the girl look so uncomfortable in this situation she began to remove herself from the middle of you two "little word of advice sweetheart, don't date him in the future, he's just looking to get his dick wet."

"wha- no what are you- why are you putting words in my mouth?! you know what are being such a bitch about this! jesus y/n you're always blowing things way out of proportion it's why i can't stay in a damn relationship with you ! and i try so hard to be nice but it's like you latch on to me like a fucking leech, just admit it without me you would be nothing! you had no one before me, no one loved you until I came along. your so god damn annoying seriously." staring in absolute disbelief and your eyes are so hot as people were now looking his way wondering what was going on and why his voice was growing louder and louder by the minute.

"let me tell you something you sick fuck. I am my own person and i do not need a little boy who's insecure about his penis size to contradict me about me and my life, you may have gotten me to come out of my shell but you didn't make shit, you are not my father nor my mother so you have absolutely no right to speak to me the way you're doing right now. I am a growing woman with my own liberties and ideals and if you didn't see that before, then that says a lot about the way you view me." hot tears are not streaming down your face as you make your way back to the table you were sitting at. you had made sure to keep your voice down so you wouldn't attract a crowd because lord knows all hell would've broken lose.

you sat at the table trying to dry your tears as a wave of nausea comes over you, feeling upset about everything that just happened as his words relayed in your head 'no one loved you' no. he was wrong so utterly wrong, you had friends, great ones in fact, you even had a best friend the one who stuck by your side through thick and thin.

---

"shit" satoru cursed out as he realized he was crying, he was currently sitting behind the flimsy decorations the at covered the bleachers, alone and out of sight form everyone who could see how pathetic he looked right now.

crying over a female.

satoru honestly didn't even know why exactly this little situation had him crying, he had been showed up. nothing new before- girls who flirt with him for his wealth and ditch as soon as the connections start. of course he was used to it, sad but true. he came to the conclusion of it wasn't the girl herself that he was crying over. it was his inability to find love. most people would laugh when if they hear that satoru was true a lover boy, especially with his reputation for moving into different relationships faster than a virgin boy cumming for the first time.

in fact he had been in more flings you can count on your fingers just this semester. but it wasn't on purpose it's not like his goal was to become a pass around. it just sorta happened...

satoru was more upset than he had realized. thoughts running around his head about how unlucky his love life was. He sat on the bleachers, on the last day and most important moment of the first semester of his senior year, crying and alone.

it was so unfair, he had come here with a group of friends and though they didn't come with dates it sure as hell looked like they were leaving with one, suguru and shoko didn't even have a plus one but in the mist of waiting with satoru on his, they had both picked up someone to dance with. which was fine, he couldn't bring himself to be envy of his friends love life. hell even his best friend who stuck by his side through thick and thin was probably around the gymnasium somewhere slow dancing with her-

"hey." satoru immediately wipes his face as he hears your voice. "uh hey, what's up?" he looks up at you hoping you wouldn't notice his red and puffy eyes, but you were his best friend so of course you did.

"are you okay?" walking over to the bleachers you sit a couple feet away from him "yeah, heh why wouldn't i be?" he said with a little sniffle "oh well- this is just an observation but maybe it has something to do with the fact that you're crying... and alone" shit you had noticed, satoru did not like the feeling swarming inside his tummy he felt self-conscious. he didn't want to look so vulnerable infront of you

"well- technically i'm not alone, you're here" he looks up at you giving his infamous cocky smile that you've grown the love you can't help but giggle at his antics "what's funny?" "you" you catch yourself smiling a little to hard at him which causes you to clear your throat and switch the topic of the conversation. "so uh- where's your date?" looking off to the side his smile faded as soon as it came "i don't know if i should tell you, it's pretty lame" he spreads his legs further slouching down as he picks at his fingernails in the middle of his lap.

"satoru i've been your friend since middle school... i've seen your emo phase" his eyes shoot open as he looks over at you in horror "oh my god! you remember that?" a pink hue dusted his cheeks as he remembers the sight of that god awful side part and horrible black eye liner (sorry nanami) "of course i do" you let out with a laugh gojo leans his head back and groan bringing his hands up to cover his face out of embarrassment. laughing once more you decide to scoot in closer, now sitting right next to him, opposite to the few feet when you were away from him. "so?"

"i've been stood up" his eyes falls into his lap not having the guts to see your face of empathy right now. "if it makes you feel better" you lean back and stretch your arms out on the row behind you eyes having the same fate as his "my ex ditched me for someone else then proceeded to call me annoying" gojo felt his heart squeeze as he looked up to see the waterline of your eyes activate "he's a piece of shit, seriously i don't even know why you keep going back to him" redness around his eyes slowly faded and started to fill with anger as he talked about your ex "it's cause- i just- i just want to be loved by someone who truly wants me for me and every time he walks into my life it's usually at one of my lowest points and i just fall right for it!" your best friend watched intensely as he took in every word you were saying as you began to pour your heart out to him all the while in his head agreeing with you since all he wanted was to be loved.

"i mean its so hard to find someone in this generation who truly cares about me, it's like im" you lean forward and put your face in you palms eyebrows furrowed as you let your frustrations out

"doomed for love"

the two of you make eye contact shocked that the same words fell from both of your lips "i get you in so many ways you wouldn't even understand." a comfortable silence fills the air around you for a moment until he broke it (fucking blabbermouth) "for the record, i don't think your annoying, and-" mumbling the last part you look over in confusion "what did you say?" the blush began to creep back up his neck as he looks to the side "i said-" he voice went inaudible once again "toru i can't hear you" "i said you look beautiful tonight!" he suddenly shouted, turning back around to look you in your eyes, the two of you just looked at eachother not knowing what to say next "well thank you, i think that you look very handsome" you scootch over more and lean you head on to his shoulder

at first satoru tenses up not sure what to do but as time went on he relaxes, slowly bringing a hand around to your waist to pull you in even closer into a nice side hug as the two of you watch the other people have fun on the dance floor "jesus, suguru can not dance" letting out a sigh satoru puts his head down embarrassed for his friend who was currently making a damn fool of himself infront of his date you giggle looking around the gymnasium spotting your closet girl friend "if you think he's bad look at shoko" you sit up and he follows suit only for his jaw to drop at the her cruel dance moves "what about-"

"utahime" in unison the two of you burst into laughter as you seemingly spot her at the same time, she was moving her hips so off beat that it was unusual, but hey at least she was happy. after the fit of giggles you return back into the position before "you know, we shouldn't even have come to this thing in the first place- it's so corny i mean cmon, what's next there gonna play a thousand years by christina pe-"

"heart beats fast"

"oh you've gotta be shitting me" you cackle at the perfect timing of his crude joke as he leans back once more. you take it upon your self to get up and stick your hand out in front of him "y-you wanna dance?" rolling your eyes you snatch him up by his blazer dragging him to the make shift dance floor "uh, i'm not sure if i-" "relax you got this, just like we practiced" right. how could he forget that the two of you practice slow dancing together (it was his idea since he didn't want to embarrass himself) just the night before.

you stretch you arms out behind him, caressing where his smooth skin and the fluffiness tuffs of his hair connected as he wrapped his arms around your mid back the two of you smoothly swayed from side to side looking into at another with a smile. "hey let's try something" satoru says he then adjust your hands on him for a more comfortable position and soon enough he's leading the way as the two of you dance together laughing at the little stumbles here and there "okay you ready?" "yeah" just then satoru spins you around so lightly you would think that he thinks you're made of glass, fragile. everthing is in slow motion and you don't catch it, but your best friend looks at you with love filling his eyes. you looked so beautiful. your pink dress illuminating under the fairy lights that hung around. gojo satoru had never seen such beauty in his life. he begins to think how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. after the spin is over he brings you into a hug one hand wrapped its long arm around your back and the other pushes your head into his chest and he leans his neck down to give you a small kiss on your forehead. the hug catches you off guard by its firmness but you reciprocate nun the less.

"wanna go back to my place and watch a movie?"

[colourstreakgryffin]

I saw you're taking Hazbin hotel requests so I thought I'd shoot my shot! So reader is a young boy who also died around Alastor's time(Early 1930s) . He's so confused and overwhelmed by how fast everything is progressing. So when he hears Alastor humming/singing a song from the 1930s he feels a sense of comfort and familiarity. Bonus if it also happens to be their favorite song! Take your time and you're amazing!

Oooh! Fourth Alastor request and I am having such a great time with this! This man is so fun to write for! After I finish here, I am gonna go cook some Jambalaya then pop it into my pentagram and summon Al so he can cook me!

Alastor- Night & Day

Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom…

when the jungle shadows fall

like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock

You don’t recognise anywhere you are… this place. It’s hot, dark, dangy and uncomfortable. There’s nothing here resembling Earth and it’s shaking you to your core. Not having the strength nor confidence to move anymore from the alleyway you were just dropped into upon arriving here from the pentagram in the dark sky. Everyone is too much for your young mind. Well. Other than that, those lyrics…

As it stands against the wall

Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops

When the summer shower is through

So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you

That song is a symbol of comfort for you. Night & Day by Cole Porter. Something your mother use to sing to you every night before bed, the sound of pretty rain hitting your open window as that beautiful sweet woman would sing over and over again, all without it growing repetitive, until you fell asleep. Having wonderful dreams all the time

Even though you’re scared out of your mind, you begin to walk out to the streets. Packed to the brim with all kinds of weird-shaped adults but you avoid most of the them, weaving through this thick crowd to find the source of the soothing lullaby of your whole life and the voice singing it. It sounds dapper, transatlantic, if not an old radio. Is it coming from a radio?

Night and day, you are the one

Only you beneath the moon or under the sun

Whether near to me, or far

It's no matter, darling, where you are

I think of you

It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Running around to find where that wonderful singing is coming from and it feels like the person is constantly teleporting, no adult should be this frustrating to find. Or, you’re just too overwhelmed from being dropped into literal Hell to even realise your coordination skills are as dropping as you did. Your mind is racing to come to terms with what’s going on

This isn’t New Orleans at all… and not a single trace of your parents around. Are you alone? No. No. You don’t want to be alone, you’re too young to be alone. Is everybody here too evil to care about a literal child Sinner being stuck on his own and having to fend for himself in ways he doesn’t know how to…

By all the unholy gods. Somebody help

Day and night, night and day, why is it so

That this longing for you follows wherever I go

In the roaring traffic's boom

In the silence of my lonely room

I think of you

The loud noises of talking, of the wall of built-in weird flat devices screeching and echoing, the patter of footsteps. It makes you want to hide away and sleep to try shake off all the distress and overwhelming feelings you are being tormented with but that song is way too recognisable and comforting for you to ignore so you just keep pursuing it

Maybe, it’ll be pointless and the singing source will be from a Radio of your year but it almost feels like the song is organic and from a person. That means there is an adult of your time here. A man from the 1930s, Hell, he may be somebody of your family! That’d be wonderful and your hopes are high that when you do find the source, it’s somebody you’ll get to embrace and talk to

Day and night, night and day

Under the hide of me

There's an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me

And this torment won't be through

Until you let me spend my life spreading love

A flash of bright red crossed your eyes when you finally had managed to shakily but stubbornly and determined, pasted through the big careless and if not almost hypnotised by the running TVs crowd, and continued down the road in half sprints. Following a array of melodically humming, recreating the beat and rhythm of the song as it seems the source is quite invested in such a song

It felt like forever following a mere sound across the city’s streets but there he is. The source of the singing, he’s so close that you can finally reach a arm out and take his hand to catch his attention

Day and night, night and day—

The man instantly mutes his singing. He is tall, in a nice fancy coat with long hems at the bottoms, with a pair of what seemed to be tall deer ears on the top of his head and his pale face branded with a permanent toothy grin, he looked both menacing but yet friendly. Turning around to face the nine-year-old Sinner running around the Pride Ring’s own Pentagram City’s streets to chase the source of a song of familiarity and now has chased and caught his hand, Alastor reacted rather friendly and understanding to be presented with a child of his own era

Leaning down to be kneel before this young confused on-the-verge-of-crying boy, the Radio Demon says smooth and curious with that same radio effect almost overlapping his charming transatlantic accent, placing his free hand on your little shoulder

Something about Alastor reminded you of a popular figure from New Orleans you’ve met before

“Greetings there, young man… tell me, where are your parents?”

[yaseraphine]

RANT ABOUT THERAPY AND WHY IT'S NOT MY CUP OF TEA 🤡

+ trying to guess the therapist's rising and our synastry and ranting about it cause I am tired man (and too sensitive lol)

Really messy post btw just a disclaimer lol

(Update 23/11/24 : I might have slightly overreacted 🤡😀😁 lol plus maybe the therapist was actually a Taurus rising lol idk man I am confused as fuck about everything bye 😝🤪🫡)

Just had my first therapist appointment since 2021 and what can I say....it was REALLY awkward. I don't know how people are able to spill their deepest traumas like that bro she just sat down and told me to talk 💀 like what I thought she would interview me or start the first appointment with pre-made questions to make a profile, regarding my background, family relationships,etc .. It was really messy and I was so confused throughout the whole thing.

I understand it's a privilege to afford therapy (it was 60euros for 45 minutes lol of course it is) but it is much more complex than just spilling your guts to a random with a degree.

Something about me is that I always thought i didn't really need therapy, no matter how painful a situation was for me. And it wasn't only therapy, it was also opening up to my own friends 💀 i could take care of myself like i always did anyways so whats the point of paying for it ? I understood people who needed it and felt helped by it. But it just wasn't for me. I have realizations on my own consistantly thanks to my self-awareness and trained and developped intuition.

What pushed me to go back to therapy even though i was , and still am, very skeptical in its effectiveness on me, is that this year, I realized asking for help won't actually kill me and that i have my limits as a human being.

I fear this appointment just unfortunately kind of validated my initial more negative feelings towards therapy and the idea that I don't really need it.

As a really introspective and painfully self-aware person who has a hard time asking for help (but is actively working on it), I really don't know what kind of therapy could help me, really. I know I probably have a few blind spots, but it's so out of my comfort zone to open up like that. I kind of hate it.

I want to keep an open mind, and probably try another therapist but damn if I don't f*ck with any, it just feels forced .. I trust divine timing for that because I don't really want to put myself in such a situation again.

Right now, I feel dirty knowing a random woman knows about my deepest traumas in a really messy and all over the place way. She has fragments of my soul, and despite me having somewhat giving my consent for it, it was too fast. Maybe it's my 8th house moon conjunct Lilith (1181) in Leo that is speaking but I feel literally violated. Strong words but this how uncomfortable it was for me.

Guessing the therapist's rising sign and ranting about 12th house synastry...

Random but I think the therapist in question had a Virgo or Leo rising... I already said it's the most common rising signs (especially virgo) and I am losing patience. We probably had a 12th house synastry that's why our exchange was really weird and scattered. She kept on making weird faces while I was talking telling me she didn't understand what I was trying to say.... I know it all too well because EVERY single person I knew or had interacted with that had a leo rising, my interactions with them were like this. I was saying stuff and it felt like it went in one ear and got out in the other. Like they could hear me but not listen and understand what i was trying to say. This kind of reminds me of Willy Wonka's relationship with Mike TV or wth his name is, in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Tim Burton's movie. Wonka always said stuff to him whenever he opened his mouth like "I cannot hear a single thing you say because you're speaking gibberish"or whatever. (Me being Mike TV and Leo risings being Willy Wonka).

This is how every single one of my interactions with Leo risings went, no matter their gender or age. It was always like that.

[strewwwberry]

About to do a Rant on shen Jiu coz yeah, so ⚠️trigger warnings⚠️for, you know, him lol

(Additional tw please read beforehand even if its just a skim)

I personalize a lot of my writing to the viewer/reader, if you are someone who tends to input yourself into writing, whether purposely or not, please be aware that it may get uncomfortable or too personal to you, be aware of what you can read through and what is uncomfortable or you simply don’t like, stay safe ♡

Also apologies in advance if I project at all through this.

Shen Jiu's story has got to be one of the most tragic I've read, and not just for his slavery, abandonmet, sexual and physical abuse and then extortion after "freedom", and on top of that the old tale of the abused become the abuser. No, not just that, but because he was willing, he was 110% willing to ignore his feelings, brush aside his abuse an torture, everything, if Yue Qinguen just told him why he wasn't there, just gave him a reason, hell not even a reason, a goddam excuse to why he wasn't there.

He would've, he may not have been a good person even after the fact, actually I'd bet that he wouldn't be a "good person" at all. But, I belive that at the very least, it would've calmed his heart ENOUGH to not repeat the cycle of abuse, even If not for any reason but yue qingyuan.

Even as an adult he was still a child inside wanting the comfort of someone he trusted more than anything, and to be reassured that he wasn't abandoned, that his qi-ge was just late.

And to make it worse, he was, yue qingyuan was simply late. He pushed to hard to quickly, refused to ask for help, refused to explain, got himself in a deadly situation, was late and continued to not explain himself but instead give a look of pity and a stupid sorry every single time as if that changes anything.

Now to go into that, that look of pity. I can literally feel in my soul how fucking cruel that was to have done to Shen qingqiu. Imagine you make it out alive through being sold into slavery, abused in all ways possible, had to fight your way out because your one and only wasnt able to, got basically kidnapped and then further used, escaped THAT, and finally made it to a sect where you see your one and only, hoping that no he couldn't have left me... Did he? No he didnt abandon you, there must be a reason. But nothing, just pathetic apologies constantly. He must've thought himself above me, I'll prove him wrong. You make it to be a head disciple on your way to be a Peak Lord, an impeccable position and a near impossible accomplishment for an ex slave, and still nothing, just pity.

Then you finally get to the top, your on your way to Ascension, already immortal despite being too old to even cultivate when you started and your qi-system (whatever it's called) is absolutely wrecked (miracle you can even cultivate, an insane improbability to have made at to a golden core and immortality). But still, even after all you've been through and persevered through, pity, pity for a man who made it. Pity for a man who went through hell and still fucking made it.

I'm just saying, I'd be mad too.

But no, it doesn't end, of course it doesn't.

Your anger reaches a point unmanageable, you refuse to explain, no one explained anything to you and they won't listen anyway! refuse to try because what good could it do? No one will believe me anyway what's the point? Only friends are brothel ladies, who you pay to be with you, you get called a pervert and a lecher for caring for these woman and that girl disciple of yours who you take pride and comfort in. Are you a pervert and a lecher? Is that true? Only you really know.

And then this bastard kid she just had to point out.

Shen Jiu, refused to acknowledge his REAL flaws and blamed everyone else for everything even when it truly does end up his fault. What. Is he just supposed to deny or admit anything? Of course not! Let them belive whatever the hell they want, I've always acted this way making me seem untrustworthy and because they're hypocrites they wont try to find out why anyway, and I'm always the victim.

Which he was for a long time.

But then he wasn't, not really no, still a victim or course, but right now, with his standing and power?

and then even though they were in the wrong, his refusal to try (understandable but still) was his own choice, his refusal to at least get along with them, not start fights, not ostracize and critisize in the form of snide commentary. No one made him did that, he was traumatized and a child, yes, so was it understandable? Of course! Was it still his own actions that even as an adult he refused to stop, let alone apologize for, even if not literally apologizing? Yes, yes it was.

And then a child. Whose had it rough. Maybe not (yet) as rough as you, but rough. And then to abuse that kid, torture and isolate that child become he was so lucky to have had a mother? A mother who, although still his mother, wasn't even blood? And because his eyes reflected that of a monster, his name reminding you of your abuser just like how your own now does to. hes too much like me, that look just can't be humane, he must be a monster. And you know what you were right he was a half demon child. But not even a demon deserved to be pushed into the abyss to die, no child not even a demon child deserved what you but him through.

That is not how that works. You hand him over to the water prison and figure it out, because the laws are fucked but at least that's something then just acting how you think is right even when you know its not. But no you had to, because what would they say, harboring a monster, you must be one to.

Then on top of all that, you swore to yourself that once you got your peak Lord name, you'd bury your past like you literally just spawned in the moment it's given. And then failed to bury it. Because life isn't that easy. But for once you just wish it was. You wanted to kill that child, so for the one that reminds you to much of yourself? You'll kill that one instead.

Shen jiu doesn't deserve excuses, hell he doesn't even want people to make excuses for him, not for himself and not from anyone else (except if that excuse Is qi-ge giving him so much as "I got caught up drinking my hella fancy tea, I dint mean to leave you there") .

But he was tragic.

He was human, so very human. A human playing the part of a trancendial being. A human boy in the appearance of someone untouchable and inconceivable.

Playing this act means no one can use nor abuse you.

Now, no one can hurt you,

Not anymore.

...

But they still did

[mikerickson]

I worked as a poll worker for the first time yesterday

After the primaries in the summer, our County recognized that they had a poll worker shortage leading into the election this year and started putting out advertisements to bring new people in. I realized that I didn't know literally a single person in my life that had been a poll worker before and that it was something I had always taken for granted. With this looming shortage however, I decided to step up and do my civic duty because why not? After a three hour in-person training session and a two hour online training session, I was ready to go.

More under the cut because honestly some of these interactions with voters are kinda depressing:

I had only signed up to do a half-day shift from 5:15 AM to 1:00 PM because I figured I'd be wiped out and exhausted if I did a whole day. Well turns out that my replacement who was supposed to take up the evening shift never showed up, so I ended up staying. I got to the polling location (a local high school) at 5:00 AM and left at 9:30 PM, effectively working a 16.5 hour day with only a 1 hour lunch break. I'll get a $300 check in two weeks, which, hey, beats jury duty!

By law our polling center was supposed to open to the public at 6:00 AM sharp, but we were scrambling and not ready yet when the vote-before-work crowd started banging on the door. Very stressful start to the morning and we immediately had a big line that didn't dwindle down until about 7:30 AM. I unironically wish I had gotten there even earlier.

Our polling location had four districts, and each district had four workers (two to man the check-in table, one to operate the voting booths and ballot scanners, and one to float/rotate out every so often). I was paired with a man and a woman both in their seventies and a woman maybe in her mid forties, but they were all clearly uncomfortable with technology. Two of the other districts were also staffed by old people who just gave up at the first sign of a problem with a touch screen or a printer jam. I'm talking just a complete lack of problem-solving capabilities. I ended up running triple duty checking people in, making sure voters were set up in their booths properly, and doing on-the-fly tech support and troubleshooting. It felt rewarding multitasking and hearing, "get Mike over here, he'll fix it" over and over, but I kinda wish I didn't have to?

We only had two voters make a scene over the course of the entire day. During the morning rush right after opening a woman raised her voice asking why there was a line and stressing out that she had to leave to go to work soon (she stuck it out in line and then bolted out of there). Later around lunch time a guy at one of the other districts' tables shouted something like, "oh, so my dad can vote here but I can't?" He stormed out in a pissy mood shortly after, but I never got the full story of what was going on there.

I had one man who had recently moved and hadn't updated his registration with the board of elections, so his address didn't match what was on file. I explained that he could still vote if he did a provisional ballot, which is basically like a mail-in ballot that you put in a special envelope and leave at the polling station instead of taking it to a drop-off box. Apparently that was a step too far and he just said, "forget it..." and left. Seemed odd to me that he 1) physically drove to a voting location to vote and 2) waited in line to sign in, but that filling out a single sheet of paper was no longer worth it.

Once we were fully set up and getting into the flow of things most of the delays and reasons for lines were the voters taking too long inside the booths. It was basically a giant touchscreen monitor to select your choices, then you review everything one last time before printing a physical ballot. I had multiple people enter the booth and then wait about five minutes before calling for help saying they didn't know what to do. Also the second page/backside of the ballot was for the local Board of Education candidates, and this was really tripping up a lot of people. Also a staggering amount of people just did not see the giant "NEXT" arrow at the bottom right hand side of the screen. Poll workers are not allowed to enter the booth with them, so I had to do a lot of blind troubleshooting from the other side of the curtain.

Lots of men coming in with their wives and girlfriends and just waiting by the wall while the women voted but they didn't.

There was a smattering of young people, but not many. I did have to turn one girl away who recently turned 18 because New Jersey is not a same-day voter registration state. She was visibly bummed out and I felt bad about that.

Our oldest voter of the day was this ancient Polish woman who didn't speak a lick of English. Her daughter, who must've been in her eighties herself, had to sign a special permission slip to enter the booth with her mother to help. They were in there for a good 15 minutes, but luckily this was during a calm period of the day.

In terms of voter attire, we only had two Harris shirts and one Harris/Walz hat we had to ask people to cover up because that's not allowed within 100 feet of the polling station. Lots of Puerto Rico flags, and one guy had this obnoxious shirt of a coquí painted like the flag that I loved. Also had one man come in wearing a very sharp suit with the loudest red tie I've ever seen in my life who proudly shouted, "Let's make voting great again!" as he left after he finished.

One older Hispanic lady (I think she was Puerto Rican) had very broken English and had to do a provisional ballot for some reason. She was so worried she was going to do it wrong, but I walked her through it with my very broken Spanish and after about 20 minutes she was good to go. She was extremely thankful and gave me a hug.

I had one woman, maybe in her mid-forties, call me over to help when she was inside the booth. She asked, "why are there so many names?" I asked what she meant, and she started listing the down-ballot candidates in the other rows below President and Vice President. She said, "what is 'Senate'? What does that mean?" I explained to her that there were other contests to vote for, and after a telling pause she responded, "...okay..." Not entirely sure I got through to her.

One woman took her very young daughter into the booth with her and a few minutes later called me over. Her screen displayed a "USB device disconnected" error. I looked down and saw that the printer had been turned off. I asked how that happened and the little girl started laughing. Her mother was mortified, but I got them sorted out.

We had one teenager who we had to help insert her ballot into the scanner because her hands were shaking so violently. It was her first time voting and she was extremely nervous. I hope she's doing okay today.

Towards the end of the night this contractor with filthy hands comes in and he's clearly exhausted but wanted to vote anyway. We were shooting the breeze while he signed his voting authority and I said, "I bet I got you beat though, I woke up at 4:30 this morning." He looks up at me and deadpans, "I've been up since 3:30." I yielded and he laughed with me.

Our second-to-last voter of the day was some early-twenties guy who moseyed on in at 7:55 PM (polls legally close at 8:00 PM sharp) and said, "I heard this was going on today." Somehow he was registered and was able to get in and out in no time, but that was just such a casual remark to make that it floored me.

Our absolute last voter of the day was a woman who was on her cellphone the entire time trying to coax her husband - who was in his own car about two blocks away from the sounds of it - to hurry on over before we closed. I could hear him hemming and hawing over it, making some excuse. He didn't make it.

Closing the polls was equally as confusing and stressful as opening them was because there are a lot of very detailed ballot reports to print and specific zip ties with specific barcodes and serial numbers to close up the machines. We were missing a certain lock for the ballot bag that we was preventing all sixteen of us from leaving (no one can leave until all districts at the polling location are ready). Eventually I (because of course it was me) found it in a trash can; someone had thrown it out for some reason but no one owned up to doing it.

As we were leaving and all saying goodbye, some of the other poll workers joked, "see you guys in four years!" I pointed out that there are elections every year, and that in fact New Jersey has a gubernatorial election next year, and some of them basically said, "I didn't know that."

Overall a stressful but memorable day. Today I was talking to some co-workers that voted at different locations within my County (so using the same equipment I was trained on), and they were telling me stories of waiting between 45 minutes to two and a half hours at most. My location never got a line that bad, which maybe had to do with the location I got assigned, but it's also just as possible that me and one other guy around my age (shout out to Giovanni working District 27!) held our shit down and prevented that from happening.

It was a very long day that wiped me out. In a vacuum I don't know that I would want to do it again, but after seeing the incompetence of the standard ilk of poll workers and learning what was happening at other locations, I really feel like I need to. I'd rather these things be run by people like me than not.

[imaginesheaven]

National Anthem – F!Reader x Price (x little bit Valeria)

Summary: After Graves’ betrayal another villain appears on the screen for the Task Force. They are nothing like all the others before.

This is kind of inspired by the song National Anthem by Lana Del Rey. I wrote all of this down, but I’m actually not sure what to do with it, so enjoy this little piece of pure braindump. I’m also not sure if I like this at all, so I would really appreciate to know what you think about it :)

Warnings: MDNI – sexual talk; swearing; angst; mentions of death

Length: 2.7 k

“Laswell, you look like you could use a drink”, Price sits down at the bar handing her a glass full of the best whiskey. “Thank you, John, but alcohol isn’t going to get rid our problems this time”, Kate takes a sip of her drink.

Her words make the whole Task Force kind of uncomfortable. Laswell is usually convinced that they can manage everything that the world throws at them, but this time she does have her doubts.

“At first, I thought we only have a usual Russian problem, but it turns out to be way bigger and more than just that”, she gets out two pictures from her jacket pocket to put them upside down onto the table, “There is no room to fail this time.” John exchanges a brief glance with his team, “Hit us, Kate.” As if there would be ever room to fail in their field of work.

“Alejandro contacted me a few hours ago fuming. Valeria got bailed out of jail with an amount of money we all only can dream about. I did a lot of digging to find out what the hell is going on. A woman paid the money to get Valeria back to her El Sin Nombre cartel. It was the same person, who overtook the Shadow Company after Graves’ got killed. This woman is going to be a big problem gathering herself the best army”, Laswell pushes one of the pictures towards John.

The Captain can feel his heart stop for a second as he turns the picture around just to find a very familiar face looking back at him. A thick coldness starts to spread in his chest; doom setting slowly in.

“Price?”, Gaz asks quite concerned about John’s silence. The Captain keeps staring as the seconds tick by. “Fuck”, it’s the only thing he says and hands the picture to Gaz. John literally prayed years ago to never see your oh so beautiful face ever again. His heart can’t get over the fact that you are still looking the same. The way you glance at the camera with a winning smirk makes his knees weak. You know that you were observed from afar and you did not give a single fuck about it.

“You know her?”, Kate can’t explain otherwise his reaction. Price nods his head in agreement, “(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). Met her once years ago. We had a mission together, but never saw her again after that.” He really hopes none of them can see through his lie. It was way more than just a mission. It was way more complicated than that.

Even after all this time John feels everything like it has been just yesterday. The way your hands have been roaming over his chest. So fucking close to him. Skin on skin. The way you felt amazing underneath him. As well as the way you broke his heart into thousand pieces. If there would be ever a regret he has to live through, it would be you.

Price doesn’t tell them a single thing about it. He will not go through every detail of his biggest mistake with his entire team. That’s something only between you and him for the rest of his life.

“So, she is military?”, Gaz asks as Soap hands the picture to Ghost. Neither of them can’t deny that you are absolutely breathtaking as much as you are deadly probably.

“Yes, (Y/N) worked for a special forces team in the American military. There is nothing much to know since almost everything is classified. Only a handful or so have the security rank to gather that information. The team included five members with the call signs X-1 to X-5, which sounds very nice, right? X-1 means Executer-1, so they called them actually Killer-1 to Killer-5. She is one of the best”, Laswell answers and pulls another picture out of her jacket.

John already knows that the picture will be you in your impressive completely black Executer-gear. He hates and loves this one so much. “No, Kate. (Y/N) is the best”, Price doesn’t say those words very lightly, but they are the truth. If you are going to be their enemy, it will be a fucking war.

“She took over the Shadow Company and the El Sin Nombre cartel? For what? What is her goal?”, Gaz can’t make the connections yet. Kate let’s out a deep sigh and turns around the last picture, “I think she is going for this man.”

The Captain shakes his head, “Makarov? (Y/N) is going for the big kill. If she can gather Russians, the Shadow Company and the El Sin Nombre cartel around her, we are all doomed. With that (Y/N) can take over every army and if that happens, she will go back to America getting her final revenge.”

“What do you know, John?”, Kate is almost kind of mad that she isn’t fully in the picture apparently like Price himself. “(Y/N) made a decision the military didn’t want to see. X-2 to X-5 were supposed to execute her. The members were named after their ranks, so (Y/N) was Executer 1 – the best of them. She killed every single one of her former teammates. The American Government classified everything to keep people from talking. (Y/N) escaped in the end, but all of that were rumors years ago. Everyone who told them got silenced. The military didn’t want to acknowledge her existence anymore. So, who really knows if that’s real or not”, Price knows exactly that everything he just told was real.

Neither of them dares to interrupt the silence thinking about the worst that could happen. Someone as power-driven and skilled as you will bring hell over those who did you wrong. What they don’t know is that you are halfway through your plan to conquer the world like you want it to.

A few hours earlier…

“Ah, Valeria. Nice to meet you in person finally. (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). At your service”, you give the soldier your best smile to greet her properly. She raises one of her eyebrows still unsure about your intentions, “Why did you pay for my freedom?”

You mention towards the waiting car, “Let’s talk in the car. It’s way cooler in their and it would be only fair to bring you back to your cartel.” Valeria follows your invitation, “If you try to do something stupid I will kill you.” You can’t help yourself but laugh as you get in the car after her, “I really don’t doubt that for a second.”

“So, what’s the deal, hermosa?”, Valeria asks after taking a sip of the cool drink you gave her. You lean forward smiling knowing exactly how to expose your cleavage and use your body to get what you want. Valeria’s eyes follow just like you planned.

“Mi vida, I want your El Sin Nombre cartel to work with my Shadow Company. I am working towards a goal that is very important to me”, you explain to her leaving out a few important details. Valeria doesn’t ask but you could see the question in her eyes.

“Graves got … detained by me. His former soldiers are under my wings now. And well, there is no nice way to tell you this, but your people are also mine”, you keep on smiling knowing exactly she will understand the hidden threat.

“So, the rumors are true that you are gathering an army. They warned me about you, hermosa. Take my men if you need to. You paid for my freedom”, Valeria knows when she is in a situation without options. She is in your hands without any chance of an escape, better playing along for now.

“I’m really glad you took that so well. Graves wasn’t really cooperating”, you lean back taking a sip of your own drink. Valeria knows how to pick her fights and you are much more powerful than she thought.

“Well, the Gringo didn’t know how to handle dangerous women. Especially when they are as breathtaking as you are, mi vida”, Valeria holds up her glass to clink hers with yours. She can’t help herself but be enchanted by you.

You have already wrapped Graves around your little finger with your sex appeal until you took what was his. Now Valeria, next one will be Makarov. And you are pretty sure he will not resist you just like the others. Your plan is going wonderful. Now comes the fun part…

The ringing of his phone snaps Price out of his deep focus on working out a plan to bring you down before you can raise hell. No matter how many options his brain goes through it will never be good enough to keep up with your next steps.

“Captain Price”, he is only paying half attention to the caller on the other side of the line. “Hi, John”, your sweet voice rings in his ears over and over again. Price is not a man to get shocked easily, but right now his mind is absolutely blank. There are literally not words to form a proper sentence.

“Oh, I wish I could see your face right now. Happy to hear that I’m still alive?”, you can’t help yourself to let a heartfelt laugh, which brings John’s heartrate into a very dangerous zone. “Why are you calling?”, he tries to keep calm, but everything in him turns slowly into panic mode. It’s unusual for him. Only you can make him feel this way.

“Oi, don’t you know anymore how small talk works, muppet? How are you doing? What have you been up to the last decade? We really need to work on your manners, handsome”, you didn’t mean to sound it seductively, still you are not mad about it. You don’t have to be in the same room with John to know that you are still going under his skin with so much ease.

“John, humor me for a second. How have you been? Tell me a bit about your little Task Force”, your voice could play on repeat for eternity and John would still not get enough of it. In this moment he hated you so much for all the love he still has for you in his heart. But the two of you are a shadow of the past.

“You haven’t changed, so I’m pretty sure you know already everything about my team”, John will not give in. Not this time. “Yeah, but it would have been nice to hear it from you. Do you really think your Task Force is good enough to keep up with me? Are they ready to do whatever it needs to take down the devil herself?”, you have been watching him and his team for a while now; tracking their success as a team and still they will never be as good as you are.

“What happened to you? This isn’t you, (Y/N)”, John’s voice is only a whisper over the line. You don’t want to admit it, but you actually missed how sweet your name sounds when it comes over his lips. “Betrayal. So much betrayal that I finally found solace in power and revenge”, you reply replaying in your head what happened long ago.

“You killed innocent people… Children…”, John remembers how you stood right in front of him; trying to explain everything, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it. He knows now that you made the right decision back then. His younger self didn’t know it.

“You draw the line wherever you need it, Captain! Isn’t that something you like to tell your team? I did that, but what did I get for sacrificing so much? Nothing. The military sent my own team after me. You left me. I lost everything to save thousands of lives. But you know what? I will gain so much more for sacrificing those lives now. Revenge is best served cold”, once you get what you want, you will never have to defend yourself ever again, “John, we both know that villains are also human beings with a dramatic backstory. Just like the heroes.”

“You called just to tell me all of that?”, John can almost feel his heart bleeding; knowing he is part of the problem. He is one of the reasons you turned your back against humanity. “No, since we have quite the past together, I wanted to give you a change. I can be merciful, if I want to. You have 24 hours to find Makarov to stop me”, your voice transforms from being bitter to cheerful in a second.

“You already know where he is, eh?”, Price realizes that you are playing with him. You know exactly there would be no chance for him to win this battle. “Oh, of course. I would never go into a conversation like this without having plan beforehand, handsome. 24 hours, big boy. Time is ticking”, without a further word you end the call leaving John alone in a deafening silence. This is a fucking war neither John nor the Task Force can win.

Bonus:

“It’s over, (Y/N). Lay down your gun”, Price points his weapon at you as he makes his way towards you. A slight smile appears on your lips before you do what he says. Your little handgun compared to his gets put on the table right in front of you.

You can’t help yourself but admire how handsome he looks after all this time you have seen him. He is aging like a fine wine. For a moment you remember how young he had looked back when he still was a Lieutenant.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a sore loser”, you raise your hands so he can see them clearly. For once you are not a threat to him. Slowly you make your way around the table. He keeps his gun pointed at you, but still lets you come as close as possible. His eyes never leaving yours for a second.

“We all know it was your decision to lose. You had everything to bring hell upon us. So, why do you give up now?”, John’s finger ache to stroke your cheek softly; to feel your warmth against his skin once again. Your eyes bore into his; looking straight into his soul. “And we both know I can’t do anything against my weakness, John. You are still the only one I don’t want to hurt.”

Your words touch his soul; breathing back live into him. For a moment neither of you know what to say. Softly you push away his gun and he let it happen. The two of you are so damn close now almost breathing the same air.

“Do you still love me?”, John can hear the pain but also the hope in your voice. There is no need to deny the truth any longer. He can’t ignore anymore how his heart calls your name over and over again. How it has been doing that for the last few years.

“Yes, I always have and I always will…. I’m so sorry for everything”, he caresses your cheek with his hand and you lean into the touch; yearning for his attention for such a long time already. “It’s okay. I love you too, John…”, you reply letting your tears fall freely now.

“… But neither heroes nor villains get happy endings, handsome. Right person, wrong time. Maybe we will find each other in the next life again. Good bye, John”, you place a soft kiss on his lips. Both of you savoring this moment as long as possible.

A single shot rings through the silence, then a body hitting the ground. And that’s how this story ends.

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

i wonder if u agree, but sometimes when i read old man rust x younger oc, it's weird to me picturing somebody in early/mid twenties bc, realistically, that would make the oc around his daughter's age, and i don't think rust can go for that. i say that as somebody who's 23, so i don't mean to exclude younger women or whatever. anyway, that's why i really like your oc bc she seems like an actual match for rust and not bc of age, but bc she's just the type of person i can see him falling for, i guess? like directly canonically in the series, so yeah, thank you for your work!!! but that got me wondering: when u started to write, did you have somebody in mind already and thought of how that sort of oc will work with rust, or did u ask urself what sort of person compliments rust best? sorry if this is too much trouble.

NOT TOO MUCH TROUBLE i think this is acc a super interesting ask!

my opinions below the cut…

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

RIGHT so i wanna preface by saying EVERY SINGLE rust oc story ive read so far has meat to it, like the authors know their shit and they should get their due snaps and kudos

i think i read younger ofcs with like a pinch of salt in the sense that i know it’s a bit crazy — btw this is coming from someone who had a “relationship” with a much older man at the ripe age of 16 — but i think it’s still good to read

things we experience can be ugly and uncomfortable but it’s still real and a part of me appreciates like keeping it real 💀 this is going to sound a little femcel of me but let’s be honest, sex is about power and the dynamics of that power give intricacies to stories that make them interesting! rust is a man (😔) and have you ever seen that one study of like ages of women men find most attractive and it’s a consistent 20 even as men get to like 70

yeah

keeping it uncomfortably real but real nonetheless

true detective is southern gothic and what i love about southern gothic is that it doesn’t shy away from touching on the less palatable corners of human existence/nature/WHATever. do i see why a daughter woman child thing as a love interest to a middle aged man with a dead baby is off-putting? YES. do i still read things along those lines because it’s interesting? ALSO YES. because more often than not creators are self-aware and explore these topics with nuance, which i respect massively

now onto like the sort of second part of you ask, beautiful anon…

when writing The Idler Wheel, idk if i was thinking as deeply when creating an oc as i was fixated on the weirdness of rust and ocs like yearning 😭? for each other, and the fact that he felt anything at all was a massive woaaaahhh for them both. the way we experience / act on desire (not even sexual just any kind but actually maybe especially sexual) says so much about a person and i guess that’s the single point from which i branched out, and every other aspect of her came later

the reason she/oc is not like twenty is because, similar to what you said, i cannot picture 1995–2002 (around that time) rust with a youngYOUNGGGG woman becaaaause holy shit i think he’d just die, like out of sadness or hurt, i think he wouldn’t be able to look at her at all 💀

old dog rust on the other hand does not give a shit about doing what’s “right” imo if that makes sense, like he’s who he is and he feels what he feels and i think this version of rust would be much more receptive to a younger woman, even if it’s “wrong” because he literally just doesn’t care anymore

i think the only reason The Idler Wheel girl was able to sneak her way in around that time is because she’s grown and a part of his workplace and therefore she should be “safe”, no more than any of his coworkers. so he lets her in his space and he lets her bring him coffee and he lets her do him favours because she’s just like the others and he just has to tolerate her, just has to see her

but of course she’s not like his coworkers and he can’t place why he wants her so bad, only that he does, which is bad because she should be mundane and she should be nothing and yet unfortunately he wants to be her dog

does this answer your q or did i go off on a tangent

i love you anon 💕💕💕💕

[heliads]

hii! i've been reading a lot of your four fics and i simply need more so here's my requestt, four x dauntless!reader and when she's going into the fear simulation she got scared of the needle so he calm her down. any pronoun is fine and if you don't wanna write it it's also fine lol, so no pressure. tysm i adore you!

y/n is so me for being scared of the needle

masterlist

Most people are scared of what is about to come. This is unusual– not that people would ever feel fear, just that they would show it. This is Dauntless, after all, the place kids born without inhibitions go for cheap thrills and a superiority complex. No one here likes to give off any indication of terror if they could avoid it.

This is different, though. This isn’t another day of Phase One initiation where you’re jumping over the sides of buildings or throwing a few punches. Those are tests, you know how to pass those. The fear landscape, however? Now that’s something no one has any clue how to handle.

The mystery surrounding it all just makes the whole experience worse. Even the few initiates amongst your numbers who’ve managed to win over some older Dauntless can’t glean a single piece of information from their already established compatriots about what you’re going to encounter in the simulations. It’s all in your head, literally. There are no limits to the nightmares your own brain can dream up.

Thus the first afternoon of Phase Two of Dauntless initiation finds a hallway lined with apprehensive trainees all waiting for their turn in the simulation. A couple of rooms are being used for fear landscapes at the moment, so there’s a slow trickle of traumatized initiates coming out of shadowy doors every few minutes or so. Some trainees take longer than others. Some are in there so long you half doubt if they’ll ever come out. All emerge looking like they’ve just had their heart ripped out of their chests.

The screams don’t make the waiting any easier, either. Every now and then, a shrill cry of terror will issue out from one of the locked doors, a clear hallmark of the mental warfare going on inside. In the beginning, everyone would jump the second they heard a muffled yell down the corridor, but hours have passed and fraught tempers have grown weary. Now all you do is sigh to yourselves whenever another victim screams, wondering how much longer you’ll have to put up with all of this before it’s your turn instead.

Waiting is only just that, though, waiting for some grander goal, and at some point, your time of waiting is done. A scared looking boy exits the door on the left, clutching his hands as if searching for wounds that aren’t there, and then your name is called instead. It takes a moment to get up, your body lagging half a second behind your brain, and then you’re out of your chair and down the hall before you even know what’s happening.

There isn’t much time to think between hearing your name and closing the door behind you. You look up and realize the room looks quite similar to the place you did your simulation prior to the Choosing Ceremony. At least there are no new threats. The only change from before is that, instead of some wary looking woman with sleeves pulled low over tattoos, you’re greeted with the sight of one of the initiation leaders. Four.

You can’t help feeling a slight rush of relief. Of anyone here delivering your test, you’d much rather have Four than, say, Eric Coulter. Four is just as intimidating, of course, but Eric’s got this way of making you uneasy. He’s too cruel. At least Four can be counted on to be fair.

Four gestures towards the chair in the center of the room. “Take a seat. Are you ready for this?”

You arch a brow as you settle yourself into an uncomfortable reclined position on the seat. “Was there a chance you’d let me out if I said no?”

Four might chuckle, either that or he was struck by an urgent need to cough. “No, there wasn’t.”

He disappears somewhere behind the range of your peripheral vision and emerges a few moments later holding a needle. It looks highly unpleasant, the metal gleaming in the dim light of the simulation room as if proof of how much this is going to hurt. This is Dauntless, however; this is not a place where you can afford to wince or shrink away from anything lest you see your rankings drop in a second.

You force yourself to stay calm, training your eyes on a bright red light on some machinery across the room instead of the needle puncturing your skin. The moment seems to last forever, and just as you’re certain that the simulation didn’t take, you blink and you’re no longer in Dauntless. In fact, you’re in the middle of nowhere, a broken down city where the wind whistling through shell-shocked skyscrapers sounds more like the howling of people than any tune of quickly moving air.

This is your fear landscape, then. It takes you a few minutes to struggle through that fear, and then you’re successively hit by a few you expected and some you didn’t, too. Hopefully, you’re making good progress, but there is no way to tell for sure. In fact, it’s hard to even remember that you’re in a simulation at all. The programming is too strong, too good at eliciting a fear response from your brain.

You defeat what you thought might be your last fear and find yourself in the simulation room again. Four is still standing over you, needle in hand.

“That didn’t take,” he said, “you’re going to have to go through again.”

He holds out the needle, which seems much sharper than before. This time, blood wells up when he injects you, and every second seems to stretch into hours. There is no light to stare at this time, and your eyes keep finding the needle again and again, no matter how hard you try otherwise. Your fingers clench into fists so long that you can feel your nails slice through your palms. Forcing your breathing to slow and steady, you inhale, exhale, inhale until you look up and Four is nowhere to be seen. The truth about being in a simulation comes crashing back to you, and you realize you must have finally woken up. 

Four walks back to you, brow furrowed. You wince at his expression, taking that to mean that you must not have done too well. It had felt like you weren’t struggling with your fears all that much, but maybe you were wrong.

“How did I do?” You ask tentatively.

Four shakes his head dismissively. “Fine, fine. Solidly above the average, it’ll keep your ranking where it is if not improve it. I just want to ask about your last fear.”

You feel the sudden need to look away. “I faced it, right? No problems there.”

“Yeah, you faced it,” he frowns, “but it made no sense. Are you scared of the fear landscape? Of me?”

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or run from the room. Both feel like solid options at the moment. “No, neither. I’m, uh–” You pause, trying and failing to muster up the energy to finish the sentence, then give up at last and spill your secret. “I’m afraid of needles.”

Four blinks at you in surprise, then laughs for real this time. He does his best to cover it up, of course, but he’s still unable to fight a grin.

You glare pointedly at him. “Thanks for the support. No need to make me feel like any more of an idiot.”

The corners of Four’s lips still stubbornly refuse to tamp themselves down into his typical stony expression. “Sorry, I swear. It’s just– needles? Really? This is Dauntless. You’ve done so many simulations. You’ll probably get tattoos. Needles are everywhere, and you came here?”

You give him a look. “There are other things to Dauntless than just needles, Four. I thought you would know that having, you know, lived here? Go make fun of some other guy’s simulation, mine is perfectly fine.”

“Well, you’re definitely not scared of me,” Four observes, “Still, it’s funny. Anyway, you’re right, I shouldn’t laugh. You’re free to go.”

Despite his solemn expression, his eyes are still twinkling with barely disguised mirth. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and let yourself out. Four’s voice rings out behind you, calling the name of the next victim of the fear landscape.

You don’t think you had that bad of a time of it, though. Sure, the simulation itself wasn’t the best of experiences, but what happened afterwards made all of the terror of it fade away somehow, slipping back into distant memory already. When you think about the fear landscape, you don’t recall the horrors of being inside your worst nightmares, just the way Four tilts his head back when he laughs, how easy it was for his cold demeanor to warm when he smiled at you.

Perhaps that is not why you view the second trial of the fear landscapes with as much dread as anyone else. Your friends are all huddled together with haunted expressions at the mere thought of returning, but you’re actually doing alright. Your spirits are only improved when Four calls your name again instead of Eric, and then you’re back in the simulation room and he’s smiling again.

It’s much easier for Four to revert back to that same state of good spirits. He hardly bothers with an initial glower at the beginning, already looking pleased to see you. It makes you wonder why 

Four holds up the simulation needle with a teasing expression on his face and you give him a sour look. “Don’t even,” you begin, and he holds up his free hand in mock surrender.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he assures you.

This time, Four pauses when he goes to inject you. He takes a seat on the side of the reclined chair, studying your expression for any sign of hesitation.

“Look at me,” he tells you, “not the needle, me. I know you’re going to be fine.”

Something about the way he says it, so confident in your abilities despite only having seen you go through the fear landscape once, erases the last of the worries from your brow. You settle back into the chair, and you swear that this time, the simulation doesn’t take nearly as long to kick up. The needle has hardly pierced your skin before you’re gone from this world and into the one devised by your mind. The last sight you see is Four leaning over you, and that’s the one greeting you when you wake up, too.

The simulations aren’t so bad after that. Part of that is because it’s hard to feel as scared when you know you have Four there on the other side, a calm presence believing in you every time. The two of you start talking more and more during your simulation time slots, and as you progress through the fear landscapes faster, your conversations grow in turn. 

One time, the numbers of initiates were swapped around a little as trainees dropped out and you had to do your fear landscape with Eric proctoring instead. You still got through it just fine, but the experience wasn’t nearly as enjoyable. You were with Four the next time, though. There were rumors that Four had complained and switched the order back to the way it was, but no one knows why. You have a theory, but you don’t dare bring it up to anyone else.

Soon enough, you’ve reached the end of Phase Two of training. After that, graduation from initiation is upon you, and you find yourself walking out of your final simulation with a glowing score. Your ranking is great, high enough that you should have no problem finding the job you want. It’s certainly the best outcome you could have hoped for, but somehow you still find yourself a little bittersweet that certain things will come to an end.

Four finds you later that night, standing at a railing looking over the bustling view of the Dauntless complex below. Everyone is active in some way, throwing parties to welcome in the new initiates or hurrying to tamp down their normal lives before everything is thrown into commotion by a new round of Dauntless jumping into the thick of things.

“You’re not celebrating?” He asks by way of greeting.

You lift a shoulder. “I will. I want to take a moment before all that, though. Just to reflect on it all. Initiation was hard.”

“Didn’t seem that way for you,” Four muses, “you were good the whole way through.”

“Even despite the simulations being my literal greatest fear?” You laugh.

Four smiles, but it’s quieter, more serious. “Even then. This was all you, Y/N. I was there, but it was you.”

You exhale slowly, look back over the city that might be yours more than you ever thought possible. “And now that it’s over? Will you still be there?”

You don’t dare to so much as glance at him lest you see yourself disappointed, but out of the corner of your eye, you can detect movement, Four turning to survey Dauntless as well. “I will be,” he decides at last, “I think I will.”

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @ilovexavierthrope, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[crazy-pages]

Yes - your experiences with RHPC are also there to mistreat and degender trans women. It's indicative of your privilege why these spaces were "welcoming" to you. Learn to realize that instead of shutting your ears.

I am begging you to get out more. Please, actually go to a Rocky Horror Picture Show showing! You don't even have to go in! Just look at the crowd that shows up. You have this absolutely detached from reality notion of who is watching it and why, and I swear on any god you care to name, if you actually go to one you will see throngs of trans women having an amazing time. It's not for everyone, sure, but (and I can't believe I have to say this) no part of the queer community is a monolith and you need to actually try and understand the experiences of others who feel differently than you.

But no, you know what? I'm gonna put a positive note on this.

Buckle in, I'm planning on making up for all the negativity around this with quite a bit of positivity and it's gonna be long.

The very first time I watched Rocky Horror Picture Show, I was in college, freshman year. I knew I was a bi guy by that point, had dated a guy*, and still felt absolutely petrified being openly bi around strangers. I had no idea how messy my queerness actually was by this point.

*She turned out to be a transfeminine mostly woman genderfluid person later, but at the time it was my first gay relationship.

I'd just had a talk with a straight guy on my floor. He'd made some comments about how he supported pride, but like ... not the gay people who are so out there, you know? That's just uncomfortable.

And damn me, I agreed with him. Not because I actually agreed with him but because the thought of disagreeing petrified me. I didn't know how to say that I actually wanted to be one of those out there queer people. That I wanted to have that bravery. I want it to be accepted, of course, but gods I also craved the simply bravery of people who hung pride flags in their own rooms. Who felt confident enough to say any flavor of "I don't fucking care if you want it, I'm here, I'm queer, get used to it."

And then a trans girl I'd met during orientation invited me to watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show with her. I had no idea what this was. But she got what felt like every damn queer freshman in the entire dorm together. Gay, bi, trans, whatever. Our straight friends? Sure. Some of us who turned out to be very queer later and who she somehow clocked? You betcha. She got us all together in the dorm lounge, which was open and faced the elevator. Every single person moving through the dorm that evening would be able to see us.

And she put The Rocky Horror Picture Show on.

It was every single queerphobic stereotype the 70s could throw together. Transmisogyny? Hah! That shit went beyond transmisogynistic depiction, the demons out of the fevered imaginings of 70s straight culture weren't broken down into categories. Faggot? Dyke? Tranny? They all meant the same thing and it was totally indistinguishable to your average suburban straight person in the 70s. They had no damn concept up there being a difference between a guy who wants to fuck other guys and a guy who pretends to be a woman. The decree of vicious stereotypical othering on display was literally beyond current conception. It was everything that straight guy I had talked to was thinking of when he said "gay people who are so out there", distilled and refined.

And it. Was. Joyous.

It was a movie which took hold of all of those stereotypes, even the explicitly predatory and infectious and doomsaying ones, and screamed "YES! SO FUCKING WHAT!? WE'RE HERE, WE'RE QUEER, AND WE FUCKING LOVE IT!" It is a movie which takes the stuffy suburban point of view characters and makes them queer. It does so in a way that embodies every aspect of the 70s fear of infectious homosexual permiscuity and then shows it as joyous! As liberating and wonderful and the best fucking experience of their lives!! Its characters were messy and full of conflict and doomed from the beginning and also gloriously fucking alive and happy to be queer!!!

At the end of it the trans girl I'd met during orientation, who would go on to be my friend for the next decade to this day, asked me what I thought of it.

I said I really liked it.

I meant it had changed my life.

She started gushing about it, and a lot of the freshman went back to their dorms at this point, but the rest of us talked for what must have been longer than the movie itself about all of the queerness in it. Yeah about the trans misogynistic stereotypes and the homophobic stereotypes and the complicated way the movie both mirrors and subverts the way 70s discourse about queer culture and even the way it elided cis queer women. And we did it all in plain view of everybody. We were the queers in your face and it meant the world to me.

The second time I went to a Rocky Horror Picture Show showing, I was actually invited by a straight friend who was invited by some queer friends he didn't know quite as well as me. (It really ended up being the two of us going together.) I was living in Arizona at the time, which is not quite as bad as the Deep South but still pretty damn conservative and it made being openly queer scary as hell.

I had realized at the time that I liked wearing skirts. Like, really liked wearing skirts. A lot. Lots of gender euphoria about it. Now like I said, my queerness is messy. I am very much a man. I am also pretty sure I want to get bottom surgery someday. I genuinely don't know if that makes me cis or trans. Hell I'm not sure what the word for that even is. Transsexual maybe?? But at that time, I was still figuring it all out. I didn't know if I was a trans woman or not. I knew I didn't really feel like a woman or want to be a woman or vibe with feminine secondary sex characteristics, but like ... I dunno when you're getting euphoria over wearing skirts and in the deep dark recesses of your mind you think you want a vagina, it's kind of impossible to not ask that question.

And the thing is, I had never been out in public in a skirt before. I'd never even been out in public with makeup before.

But I had that experience with Rocky Horror Picture Show to draw on. I knew that showings of this movie were where you go to be openly, loudly, unapologetically queer.

So I put on a skirt and a see-through shirt and really intense makeup (not in this picture unfortunately) and the biggest smile I felt like I'd ever worn in my life, and I went to The Rocky Horror Picture Show with my friend.

Now for those of you who don't know, there's a tradition at showings where people who haven't attended a showing before get marked with a V for virgin, and called up on stage before the showing to get kind of lightly sexually hazed. It was very explicitly done with consent at the showing I went to, everybody was made to understand they could bow out at any point and that it was all in good fun and in the service of expanding people's boundaries. Stuff like being asked to kiss other people in queer ways, encouraging a blushing baby lesbian to motorboat a hot older woman in leather, getting two guys to do an overwrought romance improv, etc.

And when I got to the door with my friend, there was someone working the door who was some flavor of queerly transfeminine and supremely confident about it. She looked at my friend and immediately asked him if he'd been before and gave him the V. (He came in a tshirt and jeans.) Then she looked at me.

And I'm never going to forget what she said.

She gave me a look up and down, chuckled, and said, "Yeah you've done this before, go on in."

I had not actually done this before, I hadn't gone to a proper showing and so I missed out on the virgin experience, but I could not bring myself to care. Because I was riding the high of her comment for days. I'm still riding it, to be honest.

She hadn't recognized me as any particular gender or flavor of queerness. All I knew was that she had seen a visibly masculine dude with a buzz cut and a skirt and poorly done makeup and said "Oh yeah. You're one of us. ❤️"

Also my straight friend had a great fucking time and we ended up gushing about it for like an hour afterward and I got to pass on a bunch of the stuff I learned from my old trans friend about the history of the queerphobic stereotypes on display and the underlying meaning of aggressively joyous claiming of that from the '70s queer movement.

So yeah. It is a movie which portrays queerness as intrinsically alien to straight society. The creator is a genderqueer man who believes that trans women are women, but an intrinsically different flavor of women, an opinion which has aged very poorly and quite justifiably gotten him scorned by the modern trans community. And some modern queer people, especially trans women who are sensitive to portrayals of transmisogyny, are going to feel uncomfortable with the movie.

And yet.

I've had people in my DMs and anons in my asks yelling at me for saying there are transwomen who like this movie, and that the question of whether it's trans misogynistic is more complicated than whether it portrays transmisogynistic stereotypes. Most of those have involved people screaming at me that they're sure it must have only been trans men and tme (transmisogyny excluded) people attending showings (and you could really feel the sprayed derisive spittle as they typed those terms), that it's impossible for any true trans woman to enjoy showings of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

And to those people, and to you, all I can hope to do is share these experiences with you and hope you try to understand the different queer experiences of others.

Not just mine.

But the experience of a trans girl who I'm sure was feeling even more alone and isolated as a queer freshman than I was. Who assembled a whole group of queer kids, who sat with her to take the very nightmare stereotypes which haunted her every day and turn them into a weapon of raucous joy and in your face queer solidarity with her.

And the experience of the person at the door of my first showing, queer and transfeminine and supremely confident about it, seeing some baby queer looking like every damn flavor of masculinity rocking up in a skirt and poorly done makeup. Saying "Hey kid. You're one of us," and watching the baby queer's face light up like a million Christmas trees.

You don't have to like the movie. But the people who like it? Are here, are queer, are - yes - even trans women.

Get used to it.

[sanityshorror]

PLEASE give us some tips on writing horror, PLEASE

Honestly, I might do a video about this, as I get asked this/things along the lines of this rather often lol. Off the top of my head though, the most simple but important tips I can give:

Have an actual plot. It doesn't need to be super complex, it doesn't need to build an entire universe, it doesn't need to be ‘orignal’ (literally all artistic expressions are inspired by art that came before, it's impossible to create something truly original), and it doesn't even have to be unique. It just needs to be very solid and it should not be convoluted. And no, the horror of the story is not the plot of the story. The basic plot should be able to work in different genres. The story you tell with the plot and the execution is where you bring the horror.

Don't let your book become overly convoluted. You can tell a complex and rich story without adding every single detail about every single thing. Some things might seem a bit out of place without you including excessive lore, but it's better to just focus on the story you're telling in your book rather than try to explain every single aspect. Also, it adds much more mystery when you don't explain everything!

What is the villain's motive? What are the reasons for the villain's actions? And most importantly, what is your reason for telling the story? Do you have one? (Because you need to have one.)

Show, don't tell. This is off the top of my head without editing so it's not great, but as a general example of what not to write vs what to write: “He smacked the butt of his gun against her head and knocked her unconscious.” [❌] VS “Steel violently collided into bone creating an earsplitting, nasty, unmistakable cracking sound of a skull breaking. The woman's unconscious body thudded to the ground in an unceremonious manner. Blood poured from her head, pooling on the polished, hardwood floor on which she laid crumpled.” [✅] Same scene, but I don't think I need to explain the difference of why the first sucks and why the second is compelling.

If you aren't making yourself uncomfortable and horrified, you aren't going to horrify your readers. Push the limits.

Pacing: don't rush the story and gloss over important aspects of it because you want to get it done or you feel like it's just 'too much effort.' That does not mean adding filler to lengthen the story, either. All scenes and events should be relevant to the conclusion, if it's not relevant, then leave it out. If it is relevant, focus on writing it and doing it as well as you can. I would say for a short story, aim for a minimum of 4k words. For a book, a minimum of 25k words.

Bonus tip: over the top, excessive angst is not horror. Don't confuse the two and don't replace horror with angst. Yes, there may be a lot of overlap at times BUT you cannot write horror without the majority of the story being horror. I add this because I've seen a lot of new horror writers confuse the two and it just comes off as rather goofy when it's executed.

[mythicalartisttm]

What’s your opinion on transgenders people? I ask as i have seen you reblog a few things and I am unsure on your stance. I mean this in no judgmental way i would just like to know your thoughts

anon this ask both excites me and fills me with caution, but! I will provide you with what you seek!

what do I think about transgender people? Here’s my answer to that, but be warned, it is lengthy!

1) they’re to be treated as people, not outcasts. Human is human, and we are supposed to treat fellow humans with love, care, and respect, even if we don’t agree with the people in question, or if it’s just plain hard.

2) I say this with gentleness: their perceptions of themselves are skewed*, and there are many reasons for this with the primary one being that we live in a broken world, which leads to everything else. But one of the absolute worst things we can do to trans people/ people who want to be trans, regardless of the reason, is to go along with the idea that they are or can be any other gender than the one they were born with. As you can probably tell, I believe in the God of the Bible, and that while human hands may have written the physical book, He speaks through the people that wrote it. So let’s let His Word do the talking.

You know the creation story, yeah? It’s ok if you don’t, let’s recap anyways:

Every day for 6 days, God made aspects of our universe, and when He declared everything finished – perfect! God’s work ain’t finished ‘till it’s perfect – He rested on the 7th day (Genesis 1 and 2). On the 6th day He made humans, male and female, and they were made in the image of God Himself (Gen. 2:26). They were also the only aspect of creation God formed with His own hands; Genesis 2:7 says God made the first man from the dust of the earth, and verses 21-22 says He took a piece of the man to make the first woman.

That might not seem huge to you, but it speaks volumes of the care God put into humanity specifically. Everything else – the sun, stars, sky, trees, dogs, almost everything you can think of – God simply spoke them into existence. But for humans; for you, anon? He got up, got His hands dirty, and shaped your head, your heart, your spirit, your body. He gave humanity a literal special touch that He gave to nothing else.

This is reinforced again by God speaking through king David’s Psalm 139, verses 13-16:

13 You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body     and knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!     Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. 15 You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,     as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. 16 You saw me before I was born.     Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out     before a single day had passed.

God is omnipresent, meaning that He’s everywhere all the time any time, and nothing escapes His knowledge. This includes the creation of a new human being (again: male or female, no secret 3rd option for this one). And because God Himself – who makes no mistakes – oversees and ordains the creation of every new little boy or girl, wouldn’t it make sense that God would make them as He intended to make them: perfectly, without mistake? There is then no ground for the “born in the wrong body” argument to stand on, because God made your body with you in mind; your body was made specifically for you, and there were no errors on His end.

Now, what if you just straight up don’t like your body? I think everyone has disliked their body and/or felt uncomfortable in it at some point, that includes me. If someone’s going through puberty then they are almost guaranteed to be uncomfortable in their body because that kiddo and their body both are growing up. Sometimes you’re uncomfortable in your body simply because it’s changing, but this particular change is a good thing! Going through puberty is a sign that your body is working as it should, even if it feels weird. To try and block this transition from happening, or deliberately alter it, is to actively harm your body’s natural progression.

So yes, I do think that a trans person’s view of their body – that they were made for a different body and so they should change it – is not only wrong, but harmful to themselves in the long run. Why are we affirming this; giving people of all ages the means to scar themselves to feel good in the now?

Last bit before the TL;DR: if there’s anyone out there who thinks God won’t except them for any reason that you can think of, I’m gonna stop you right there. There is grace for you. Yes, even for that; please refer to my pinned post. And also this.

My explanation doesn’t cover all bases I’m sure, but the TL;DR is that the human body is a sacred thing designed by God, with care, made differently and specifically for every individual person, and it is medical malpractice (evil) to alter it within the context of transgenderism. If you have undergone the gender transition at any time – or have done anything else, ever – God still loves you with his whole heart, and He wants you to let Him help you with whatever may have dragged you down this time. Even if it was self-inflicted.

Lastly, some stuff I didn’t know how to cleanly fit into All That

*it is worth noting that basically everyone has a skewed perception of themselves about different things and to different degrees, but in this context I mean “a skewed perception of how a trans person relates to their body”

Creation was deemed “good” before people, but after people, God declared it “very good.” Again, in Genesis 1. I literally cannot stress enough how much God wants people to come to Him for whatever the reason

Chloe Cole's discussion with Dr. Peterson + the comment section and the testimonies in it

this post

[justcallmeaubs-blog]

Warning slight nsfw

These are my headcanons for some creepypastas and what they would call you in a relationship

⁰ו°hehe! More headcanons!°•×⁰

Jeff

He would call you

-hottie

-bitch

-babe

My reasons are that he's an asshole but still wants to show you affection. He wouldn't really say these things by yourselves since he would just call you by your name but in public or around the other pastas he would.

Ben

He would call you

-baby

-princess/knight

-mommy/daddy

-babygirl/boy

The princess thing is because he plays the legend of zelda (duh) but the rest he just finds genuinely sweet and he likes calling you mommy/daddy in the bedroom he will call you these things to the point where you dont know if he knows your name anymore

Eyeless jack

He would call you

-love

-sweetie

-babe

Though he may not use these names often, whenever he does you do find it very endearing and like how he gets shy when he calls you these things until later on in the relationship.

Toby

He would call you

-literally any name (for couples) you can think of

He would call you any name because whether he is joking or he's not he wants you to know that he loves you, he will also call you by your name but there is a subtle difference in the way he says it that makes your heart flutter.

Masky/tim

He would call you

-your name

-darling

-hun

The nicknames are for when you two are alone mainly but he does enjoy saying the nicknames around the others every now and then just to see your reaction.

Hoodie/brian

-hun ABSOLUTELY

-babe

-darlin'

-___pie

The whole reason I'm picking such southern (in my opinion) names is because in my head he has a slight southern accent. (I don't know why) And you absolutely love it when he calls you these things (I'm like internally screaming as I imagine him holding you by the shoulders, let's say someone catcalled y/n and he'd just be like, "darlin', dont you worry your little head imma find him." With a kiss on the head and he leaves AHHH I'm kicking my feet Brian is one of my favorites if you couldn't tell)

(I spent too long on that I'm sorry)

Kate

FINALLY SOME WOMAN sorry this is what she'd say

-babe

-sweetheart

-sugar

I don't know why but I feel like she'd be extra sweet with you like getting you lil things anytime she found them and she'd be like "here you go" since she doesn't and does know how to interact with you. She just wants to love you.

Jane

This is what she'd say

-baby

-honey

-darling

-cutie

She sees herself as a badass or more accurately someone dangerous and scary so when she dates you it's pretty clear that she sees you as her cute thing. She doesn't pressure it on you but in her head you're her baby and will protect you, even if she knows you can protect yourself she won't stand down.

Nina

-again, she would call you any name that a couple would use

She LOVES you. Not so much to like, hurt you (like some yandere) but enough to where she's obsessed. She will call you pet names (even before dating) and she just wants to show you her love every. Single. Day.

Liu

(I'm gonna be completely honest I don't know much about liu or what all the hype about him is, please don't kill me)

-honey

-babe

-sugar

So basic I know but to me he looks like a basic book worm I'm sorry I'm not a liu fan I'll try to do more research for my liu simps :')

-Laughing jack

This is what he'd call you

-sugarcane

-candycane

-literally anything candy

He sees you as sweet so he will call you anything sweet, he genuinely loves you and doesn't understand names like "baby" or "darling". He just wants to call you as what he sees you as.

(also laughing Jane would be the same)

X-virus/cody

This is what he'd call you

-honestly I think he'd be a bit too shy or uncomfortable calling you anything

-once in a blue moon he'd call you love or say something cheesy like "if I'm the patient your my antidote" or something 💀

He's not like "UwU I'm shyyy" he's actually just genuinely scared to call you anything because he hasn't even figured out why he feels this way (this doesn't mean he'll fall out of love either he just needs to learn to accept things and eventually will adapt) he's a slow person in relationships so please be patient with Cody.

Clockwork/Natalie

-she would also be a bit shy in the beginning but would adapt faster than cody

This is what she'd call you

-love

-beautiful

-prettygirl/boy

She thinks your the most beautiful thing she's ever seen and she will tell you at least 3 times a week. It's not like Nina obsessed but it's her way of reassurance even if you don't need it. She simply just adores you.

This is all I'm gonna do because I've already spent an hour on it. If there's anyone I missed or you want I am able to take asks still for anything but I will warn you it might take a bit to actually answer. Please don't be afraid to suggest anything!!