#and components look great as always

[pealeii]

so 2024 stex cast!! excited and nervous but mostly just wanting more information!

[fishnapple]

The purpose of your life, why you're here

This reading is about finding the purpose of your life, why you're here, your current reincarnation (if you believe in reincarnation), or your soul, what you're born into this world to experience. All 6 groups share a similar theme of reaching your highest potential and having the focus on connections.

A similar reading was also done by @claudiafrankie, you can check out their reading here

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ROSE QUARTZ

Keywords: inspiration, leading, expansion, mastery, mental power, innovation, connection to the psyche

I see the theme of big vs small, how we define our life, give meaning to it. Are we just a tiny entity that exists in the sea of existence, or are we the whole universe, embracing everything?

In your life, you will encounter many instances where you're asked to step forward, step outside, go out of your comfort zone. You will be put into experiences that tell you how knotted your life has been and how much it could unravel into something more spontaneous. There's a fight between wanting to focus on the physical plane, doing daily tasks perfectly, concern yourself with details, with what is happening around you and the need to do something bigger, having more impact and influence, to make a change to the world, to live the life you dream about. Confinement vs freedom.

You have a lot to tell, so much to share, so much to experience. At your core, you're an adventurer, a nomad, life is a journey that you need to keep moving. You want to achieve great things, leave a mark in this world and receive adoration from people. But the first step in your journey will be facing your wounds. They are the door that stands between you and the freedom outside. Are you ready to turn the doorknob and push that door? In the past, in your past lives, you might have experienced confinement, mentally, physically, spiritually. You kept standing there and facing the door but didn't decide what to do. So in this life, you're given a choice to choose again.

You might think the components to your success in life are outward actions, ambitions, and material achievements, showing how capable you are. Your mind is buzzing with ideas, with the future, always looking for a new way to do things better, to perfect what you're focusing on, like a windshield wipers working tirelessly on a stormy day. The next piece of information, the exciting new discoveries, the buzzing trends, they busy your mind until it becomes fatigued and obsessed.

Your purpose of this lifetime is to learn how to rest, when to stop, and how to use the information and resources you have gathered to build yourself up effectively. What defines you is not how much you have, how good you are at certain jobs, but how you master yourself and become the highest aspiration of yourself.

To do that takes patience and understanding of yourself. Turning inward, curbing the restless mind and impulses. You might be someone who is quite impatient or impulsive, wanting to execute right away the idea you have in mind, what you think of should be what you have, expecting results and excellence quickly, if things don't go well from the first try, you want to give up and change direction, change the method without giving the old ones enough time to develop. If you are this person, then life will give you many opportunities or challenges to slow you down, the more you try to act, to fix things, tossing ideas everywhere, going around in many directions at once, the more likely you are to be confined and forced to make a clear choice and commit to it. And you will have to choose wisely. How do you do it? By facing that door, those wounds, see how they are projected into your surroundings, your relationships with people, how you go around, anywhere, just to avoid them.

You're given a good pair of eyes (figuratively, or can be literally) to truly see, amidst all those busy movements, a path for yourself. A wide, unexplored path. Pushing the door, stepping out is scary, but you're brave and you will inspire many others to do the same.

LABRADORITE

Keywords: growth, healing, comfort, peace, helping, courage, accepting changes

I see the image of a sword or a cross. Your energy feels young and soft yet resilient and brave. Life gives you many challenges that would forge a sharp and strong blade inside you. The sword here is not for harming or conquest but for protection and striking the lock, through layers of fears that have been imprisoning you for a long time.

Your life is divided or, rather, balanced by two opposing forces and choices. One is the past, the habit, the way you chose to protect your safety. You might have a tendency to go along with other people's wishes or try to avoid direct confrontation for fear of disrupting the peace. This might be one of your defence mechanisms when dealing with life in general. You want to live in peace, quietly go about your way without obstruction and intrusion from outside. This creates a demure aura, in some way, a little submissive or malleable energy. You don't act this way because you want to gain something from other people. You just don't find it necessary to engage in confrontations that lead to dead-end.

The other side is something you're called to embrace more of in this lifetime. Your energy is soft and flowy, like water, but it needs a little solidifying into something more sturdy. It's the hardening of the core self. Hardening here does not have a negative connotation, it's not about building walls around yourself, closing your heart and spirit, acting cold and tough, it's not like that. It's about being more sure of yourself, giving yourself a sturdy and durable foundation, like how a pliable sprout would grow into a robust tree, standing tall and firm on the ground.

Work and career, material achievements will be the ground where you will see yourself grow the most in this lifetime. There will be opportunities and chances for you to break out of your nest and explore. The work environment will be dynamic and full of pleasant surprises. You will find support through the people you work with. A family member might be a crucial figure in your process of becoming the best version of yourself.

I feel a very giving nature, you have so much in yourself, so much to share, that inner abundance, with people, with life. But only when you release the attachments that keep you rooted in constricted safety. There might be hesitancy when trying to think about bigger aspirations, about your life dreams. You might think that those dreams are unrealistic or too far away. Your mind and your heart are going in the opposite direction. Your heart wants to look forward, to the distant, unexplored horizon, while your mind is occupied by anxiety and uncertainty. It's the root of the great divide between your past and your future.

But I think in this lifetime, things will change. Your life is in a great transition period. Events might happen quickly, surprises come more often. What you've been believing in, what you've been doing habitually might suddenly become strange and feel foreign to you. These changes are necessary, you might feel uncomfortable having to depart from what you've been attached to. But if you can muster enough courage to go against the usual, it will be a personal victory for you. You will successfully break the earth above you and shoot up, out of dormancy, to begin a new adventure.

RED JASPER

Keywords: manifestation, beauty, to connect, freedom, commitment, wish vs reality

It feels like you have a starter kit of manifesting love but you haven't learnt how to use them fully yet. Love and other connections will be the focal point of this lifetime for you.

You have a unique power of manifestation. Have you ever had some thoughts and then a few days or some time later, they came true?. Everything could manifest instantly that you might even be scared of your own thoughts, afraid that any "wrong" thought will result in a bad future. If you haven't realised this about yourself, be more mindful and observe how things work around you. Life will feel a lot more magical for you.

One of the reasons why your thoughts are so powerful is because you're given full reign, full freedom to experience this world. It's not something that you can easily realise and put into practise. There's no particular script nor strict rules for you to follow, you just need to experience as many things as possible. The best gift you have in this lifetime is freedom. I think this gift is something hard-earned from countless trials and hardships. The memories of distant pains might still linger somewhere deep inside you, keeping you from fully being free to dream. But no more rules and burdens. This life is meant to be savoured in its vastness. You're a born rebel. Carving your own path, going your own way, never settling, never being fully at ease with the present, always on the lookout for a different future.

And that's where relationships come in. One of the best ways to do that is through relationships and interacting with others. I see a tendency to be hasty or quick to move on when it comes to bonds with other people. With your manifesting ability, combine with your natural charms, you have no problem with meeting and building the connection with someone. But something about commitment might scare you. You might not want to commit because of the fear that your freedom will be lost, or because you put a heavy importance on a commitment that you don't want to step into one too lightly. You might jump, too quickly, into conclusions about some connections. Maybe you would try to find a plausible reason to stop the connection, in the name of practicality and logic, ready to find flaws in the other person, or, on the opposite end, you decide too quickly that this is it, this person is the one and then try to commit, prematurely. It's like you are given something because you wished for it, but then you don't exactly know what to do with it. This will be one of your biggest lessons in this lifetime. To follow through with what you wish for, to commit to something fully and wisely. It's not just romantic relationships but also other relationships, colleagues, friends, families, etc.

There would be two types of people in your life who can guide or lead you into two different directions. They will appear in the form of mentors, someone older or more experienced than you, someone whom you feel you can learn something significant from. One type will encourage you to find your calling, your path. Who will constantly touch your deepest feelings without even trying. They may trigger you, for good or for bad, you would feel their choices of words and actions are dubious and questionable, but there is something undeniably inspiring about them, they push you to be more bold and get in touch with your needs and wishes. While the other type would be someone wanting to dictate every move in your life under the guise of knowing what's good for you. They are powerful, they can make your wishes come true but only if you come under their wings and stay there. You would feel like a child being well taken care of, but your wings will be clipped. Which direction to take is ultimately your choice, you choose whatever to experience, because that's your freedom in this lifetime.

CITRINE

Keywords: uncharted water, discovery, exploration, crossing, in between, balanced, transition

I see your path in this life is going to the unknown, something that you haven't experienced before. You are standing at a gate, a bridge in between two lands. Or, in the vertical sense, you are standing on the dark ground, looking up at the sun, shining bright from above. There are lots of movements, both mentally and physically. In this lifetime, you will constantly move between the two worlds. The inner, dark and cold sea of your private world and the bright, warm air of the outside world. No world is better than other, they need to be their for your life to be in balance, staying in one world for too long and neglecting other will likely result in some events taking place to pull you back into balance.

These two worlds are parallel to each other. The inner world is led chiefly by your mind, they are well organised, block by block, neatly like a library, while the outer world is more dynamic, led by passion and actions. They affect each other in every way, more than you realise. Chaos in the inner thought will likely result in confusion and, in some extreme cases, destruction of the known path. You will stumble upon many paths that are considered strange and out of the norm, but I think you're geared towards them, even unknowingly, your mind has a knack of seeing the unique structure of things, noticing the pattern and the likely outcomes of situations that not many people can. This will help you see more alternatives in life and choose a path that can bring satisfaction to you, in all senses, materially, spiritually, emotionally. This path will likely be an uncharted water, something that not many people have done, there will be many unexplored areas for you to bring in your unique takes.

Another way the two worlds interact with each other is what your inner world needs, the outer world will provide. If you feel anxious and doubtful, haunted by past memories, then you will likely encounter something or someone new who can give you fresh perspectives and encouragement to be brave. If you feel your life is lacking security, you feel low in your self esteem, there will be moments of transformation that bring you closer to what you desire, you will be given opportunities to venture into new territory, meeting new people, getting the support you need to start something. The universe hears your every call and answers back with opportunities, emphasis on the word "opportunities", you won't be given a whole cooked dish, you will be given ingredients to make the dish.

There's an element of settlement. Instead of jumping from place to place, in this lifetime, you need to hold onto something, to make something uniquely yours, something that will be by your side everywhere you go. It could be a legacy, a creation, a lesson, something that lasts. But it's not about stubbornly holding on to something, it has to be integrated into your core being. Throughout life, you will face with many events that will change your perspective drastically, you're not meant to hold on to old beliefs, withered branches that can no longer hold the weight of the birds standing on them. You will constantly meet new people, those that will open your eyes. Foreign people and cultures might fascinate you, somewhere with lots of sunlight, warm hospitality, beautiful scenery and architecture, lots of mountains and flowers. Especially if you're someone who's from a land near the sea, windy and cold, lots of rain and stormy weather. You are a traveller at heart, don't limit yourself to any particular place.

AMETHYST

Keywords: opinion, communication, conflict, to uphold, straightforward, honesty, truth

I don't know why, but upon seeing your spread, the phrase "human comedy" just sprang up in my mind. This life of yours will go through so many ups and downs in regards to connections and relationships. You will experience the full spectrum of them, every facet, every emotion.

You might encounter many situations where you're misunderstood greatly, those will create a very interesting dynamic between you and the world. Interesting might not be the right word, even my choice of word in this reading is muddled up, you might have the tendency to use words that make your intentions seem questionable or odd to people, and they do the same to you. It's like people from different lands from all around the world gathered for a meeting but there's no common language and no one to translate.

Communication will be the point of focus for you. You might struggle to find the right expression, the right words for the things you want to say. Thoughts seem a lot more clear and articulated in your head, but when they are uttered, there's this fog around you that tends to twist and blur the words, making them shift and fuddle. You will need to find a way to clear this fog, to deliver your words in the most direct and straightforward way as much as possible, even at the risk of being blunt and offensive. This might create an obsession or anxiety when communicating. Maybe you want to find the perfect expression, the details, you do notice the tendency of people misunderstanding you so you try so hard to elaborate, which can create the impression of being long winded, rambling or argumentative.

Ideas jump around in your head, constantly born and spread, demand to get out, to be expressed, this forms a rushing energy, impatient tongue. But even with all these misunderstandings, you don't actually offence people. They may perceive you as nitpicking, blunt, or argumentative, but they don't necessarily hate you for it. On the contrary, some even find it amusing and endearing, these people might even intentionally tease or poke at you, it's not malicious, but then again, you also don't read people's intentions too clearly and might perceive these acts of teasing as personal attack. Your reactions would rile those people up even more. Hence, the endless cycles of poking and reacting. The purpose of all of these is to train your resilience of the mind and heart. You should take all of these with good spirit, laugh them off, keep your truth and speak honestly, there's nothing more attractive than that.

On a more serious note, you're reminded to stand firm in your thoughts. I sense that you have so many wisdom to share with the world. Teaching might be a calling for you. Even without actually be in the education field, people can still learn from you, through your unshakable conviction in yourself and the way you speak your truth. It might be intense, it might be difficult to swallow, it might seem strange and outlandish, but nevertheless, it captivates the world through its sincerity.

AVENTURINE

Keywords: artist, bridge, the call, emotional landscape, go with the flow, sensitivity

"Young poet of the moon", "The poet of the soul", those two just appeared in my head upon seeing your spread, so I wanted to write them down. I think those words portrayed you pretty well. Your inner artist heart is beating every moment, it's a force that you can't hide or be ushered into oblivion by some circumstances.

This world needs a lot of people who have a sensitive heart, like you, someone who has the "eyes" to see the beauty in this world, the "ears" to hear its cry and whisper, the "lips" to court it with sweet sweet words. You're here to make people see the world in its naked beauty, helping them realise the small details of living and in the process, elevate their souls.

You offer this world a cup filled with creativity. The way your mind and heart tremble and come alive with all the senses can create striking new creations. The passion for sensuality is there, for the bursting love of life. Sensuality here encompasses a vast spectrum of things, from the aromas of delicious food, the cool and smooth feeling of water lapping over you, the swirling colours of leaves dancing under the sun, the warm and rough feel of someone's hands, ... they are all the materials for you to marvel at, to create, to give back to the world your interpretation of it.

Why did I say "poet" in the beginning? Because you have the gift of gab, your words resonate with people's hearts, because they are spoken from the realm of the unknown inside all of us, we can only be able to catch a glimpse of it here and there, when we allow ourselves to relax and float. You have the ability to connect to that realm , to catch sights of it more often and crystallise those sights into words or messages conveyed by other means. But I sense written words strongly. Even if you do something that isn't related to creativity or the art (but is there anything that truly be detached from creativity?), this gift will still assist you in every endeavour you're in, negotiating, mediating, persuading, counselling, anything that needs these kinds of skills.

Love will play an important role in your life, you're here to experience love in all of its forms, experience all the feelings it can create within us. It won't be an easy journey, heartaches are there, but so is the deepest devotion. You might face delays in love or intense connections that leave lasting marks on your soul. You're not the same person you once were before a connection. These will transform you, plunging you into greater depth and strange waters. But don't be afraid,if you allow yourself to savour the journey, you will arrive at a treasure that many people have been struggling to find. This inexhaustible treasure will provide richness to your life. Also, don't let yourself drowned either, emerge out of the water and share with the world what you've seen. So many people need their hearts touched by a soul such as yours.

[mesetacadre]

So, like, have any of you actually ever had a conversation with a fascist offline about what they believe? I have.

To be clear, this wasn't a sit-down-let's-talk conversation. He (the only one) tried to start shit, and we (me + 2 comrades) confronted him in the act and regrettably got into a 30-minute "conversation".

Fascists, individually, are very mentally feeble. They are cowards who always seek to start conflict while trying to make themselves out to be the victims. This is, of course, until they gain enough popularity and canon fodder to throw 20 unstable fascists at anyone they don't like. But until this exaltation occurs¹ and their organizations enter a relatively stable cycle (in contemporary liberal democracies, they last between 2 and 7 years before disintegrating), there remains a contradiction between their aggressive desire to seek confrontation and their individual and collective insecurities. Fascist ideology is mostly not rooted in reality (more on this later), and it also has an important component of self-hate. They are an inferior specimen, unable to achieve what the fascist martyrs before them achieved (in Spain, Jose Antonio Primo de Rivera usually occupies this position), and to add injury to insult, it's those who they perceive as weak and undeserving who rule over them. They ignore this perceived inferiority by joking about being chads, the superior race, or non-degenerates. But behind their rhetoric and "humor" there is usually a tinge of insecurity and hate against anyone who doesn't fit their increasingly narrow standard, including themselves.

This fascist we talked with kept referring to Jewish conspiracies, to the freemasons in every position of power, to old Falangists, to fascist "theorists", to some kind of esoteric spiritualism within the bounds of Christianity, somehow, and hyperborea. He talked about communists, how they were already in the government (referring to the social-democratic PSOE), how we were degenerates, how the day will come, etc. He attempted to scare us by saying that he was an ex-member of this more notorious fascist party and that they were looking for him to beat him up, which isn't something you admit to people you're trying to start conflicts with. After a while of his ramblings, one of my comrades couldn't help but laugh at him. It was all very ridiculous; I don't remember exactly what he said that made my comrade laugh. He got slightly more agitated, and the conversation ended in ~5 minutes.

Individually, fascists are also not the brightest people you'll encounter. For somebody to internalize fascist beliefs, they have to be unconsciously willing to never dig deeper about their beliefs, to contrast them with one another, or to contrast them with other fascists. They'll read a text (they may be stupid, but a lot of them do read more than you'd expect) about, say, the concept of race, and never really address the fact that it contradicts their own beliefs, or a fellow fascist's beliefs about the nation or about Europe.

And a really interesting thing is that fascism is far from a monolith. It's more akin to an entelechy². The specific contradictions of fascism manifest themselves much more between individual fascists than within a single individual. Like I mentioned before, there are contradictions when it comes to race (racialists like the nazis vs anti-racists like Falange Auténtica), to Europe (the idea of a Great Europe vs every idea of Nationality/Empire, which generally coexist poorly), to the nation (its intersection with race and/or Europe and how it interacts with these), to the reaction against progress (a conception of fascism as progressive, reactionary, or neither³), to science (a realist position based on scientificism such as race science and Kameradschaftrecht (nazi feminism) vs metaphysical conceptions, such as esotericism or the Thule society, reliant on aesthetics and mysticism), or to the economic policy (bourgeois positions, corporatism, vs workerist positions such as Strasser or Bombacci).

These contradictions aren't unique to the contemporary fascist situation of fragmentation and the peculiarities of social media either. Back in the 30s and 40s, there was a lot of disagreement on who counted as fascists. On one end, during the rise of the NSDAP, there was a small cadre of orthodox fascists who narrowed fascism "a la Italiana", and did not consider nazi-fascism to be fascism because of its differences on the scientificist conceptions of race. The Nazi party repressed this small wing. On the other end, it was a prevailing position in the USSR to not consider fascism to start with Italy's fascii di combatimento, but rather in Russia's Black Hundreds, having a broader conception of fascism.

This fascist we talked with considers himself a Carlist⁴, while another member of his groupuscule considers himself a national-socialist, while being Moroccan, and a third is a run-of-the-mill reactionary concerned with the 2030 agenda, globalism, immigrant invasions, the great replacement, that sort of thing. When fascist groups are relatively small and lack any form of inertia and/or formalized structure, their activity is extremely sporadic. There is no discipline to be found, no real planning or broad strategy, they are, rather, a group of similarly-enough-minded friends who sometimes like to do some vandalism or threaten/agitate leftists of any stripe. Their only method of growth is to generate controversies, fights, have a provocative tweet go semi-viral, to generate noise. When it comes to agitation for the fascist, concrete ideology is not relevant. They appeal to both rage and the satisfaction of, for example, seeing x annoying leftist org get their posters ripped off. Discussions of fascist theory rarely, if ever, influence their pragmatic activity, sometimes it's more similar to a circlejerk to see who has the most esoteric, exaggerated and offensive positions.

This is not to say fascist infighting is irrelevant, far from it. Fascists have their own petty disputes between groups, periods of extreme fractionarism, inter-fascist and intra-fascist violence. But when it comes to the philosophy of action, to how they apply all these beliefs, you'll be pressed to find meaningful, material differences. Some might be more or less aggressive, more or less esoteric, more or less contrarian, more or less effective. But they all rely on building that momentum, that controversy -> confrontation -> growth -> controversy cycle. The moment fascist groups lose that momentum, or one too many campaigns fall flat and fail to garner attention, they'll start to turn against themselves, to deteriorate their own structures in the permanent search for conflict that their beliefs demand. There is no way to hold the belief that, for example, race is a scientific category that makes the white/national/aryan/european/whatever race constantly threatened to disappear without exhorting you to seek conflict, whether it's against immigrants or other fascists who don't place as much importance on race.

If you find yourself in the context of a few small fascist groups festering and seeking conflict, it is a strategic error to confront them outright. Unless you're willing to downright kill them or injure them severely enough (with the bigger threat of legal repercussions that entails), fascists will be able to turn your explicit opposition against them into ammunition to attract more reactionaries to their own ranks. The best you, as an organized communist, can do in the period before exaltation, is to quietly collect information about them, study their patterns, and exert as much opposition as is possible without letting them turn it into a visible confrontation. If you're going to cover up their symbols and posters, do it when they can't film you or try to start a fight. If they're threatening someone to provoke them to then cry and hue about the rabid leftists, use the fact that they have low numbers, record them, and intimidate them without physical violence. Even if you can leave them writhing on the floor in a fight, they can use that as ammunition, but they can't use a video of them putting their tails between their legs and running off. You can't debate with fascists, this much is clear. You also can't just use violence to scare them away, because they'll use that violence to gain momentum, and then you can end up with an actually decently-sized and consistent fascist organization.

This is how we have been opposing these small groups of fascists attempting to grow through controversy. We opposed them non-visibly, effectively and professionally. When this group of about 15 fascists total (they never appear with more than 4 at a time because of their inconsistency) encountered this, they were at one point scared enough to stop all activity for about 2 months, and after that have yet to appear again. Meanwhile, other, more infantile orgs, overreacted by opposing them with full force and very publicly, which only encouraged the fascists to keep going and wasted energy in a futile back-and-forth, as well as putting their members in unnecessary risk by engaging in unplanned situations.

¹ Throughout this entire post, all analysis of the behavior of fascists offline assumes this exaltation has not occured

² Entelechy here means an impossible ideal, built entirely in the imagination, or with an unstable and shoddy manifestation.

³ Fascism often positions itself as a revolutionary movement, while other times it places more importance on the opposition against progress.

⁴ Carlism is a Spanish political current originating in the rejection of Isabel II as a legitimate heir to Fernando VII, it became very intertwined with Franco's dictatorship and the Falange during the Civil War

[honeytonedhottie]

it girls guide to haircare, from glossy curls to flawless braids⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💕🧁

your hair is your CROWN 👑 and the prettiest hair is always the healthiest. so in this post i wanna explore tips, routines and recipes that can help you to have healthier hair and start ur haircare journey…💬🎀

BUILDING A HAIRCARE ROUTINE ;

when it comes to building a routine of any sort, consistency is key! the main components of building a MEAN hair care routine are the following ; cleansing, deep conditioning and nourishment. think of ur hair like a garden that you have to water and nourish and in return it'll grow and be beautiful. thats the way that hair is! it needs tender loving CARE to be as beautiful as it can be.

wash 1-2x a week depending on how much u need to, but avoid washing it every single day because it strips ur hair of its natural oils and will give u dry and brittle hair. and thats NOT hot…💬🎀

🧁 cleansing ; opt for sulfate-free shampoos to keep your hair clean without stripping away natural oils.

🧁 deep conditioning ; deep conditioning is a NON-negotiable. choose protein-rich or moisture-based deep conditioners to keep ur hair strong and soft.

🧁 nourishment ; use hair masks on a weekly basis, always use a leave in conditioner or serum to lock in moisture and shield your hair from heat or environmental stressors.

so all in all, wash ur hair once a week or as much as needed, make sure that u choose moisture based, protein rich conditioners, and use hair masks weekly and invest in quality masks and oils to nourish ur hair and give it that extra UMPH.

THE GLOSSIEST CURLS ;

to achieve the glossiest prettiest curls ever, start with damp hair. apply a curl-enhancing cream, and comb through for even distribution. you can also try the LOC method, where you leave in, oil then cream ur hair. this particularly works great for hair that loses moisture.

if u have curly hair, sleeping in a silk bonnet or on silk pillowcases can help you to avoid having frizzy hair and using silk scrunchies is better for the health of ur hair + avoids breakage.

for defined curls and coils that pop, hydrate first by starting on freshly washed or damp hair. apply a leave-in conditioner for hydration. use a curl-defining cream or custard to clump and hold ur curls, make sure that ur working in sections! use a diffuser to dry your curls while keeping their shape intact and finish with a lightweight oil or shine spray for that extra glossy look.

FLAWLESS BRAIDS ;

to get sleek, flawless braids, start by detangling your hair completely. smooth your edges with a gel or edge control, and section your hair evenly. keep your braids tight but not too tight to avoid tension on your scalp. finish with a hair oil for shine and to nourish your scalp. if you’re rocking feed-in braids or box braids, don’t forget to hydrate your scalp regularly to avoid dryness or flakes.

GENERAL TIPS ;

🧁 always work in sections when ur doing ur hair bcuz it makes the process easier + more effective 🧁 deep conditioner instead of regular conditioner 🧁 wrap ur hair at night with a bonnet/sleep on silk pillowcases

AT HOME HAIR GLOSSING ROUTINE ;

for hair glossing at home, combine conditioner, olive oil, and a tablespoon of honey in a bowl and mix it together. be generous with it as u apply it to your hair. leave on ur hair for an hour. after washing ur hair blow-dry it. 

MY PERSONAL RECOMMENDATIONS ;

❤︎ i use the glossy pearl hair mask and it smells SO good, it smells like literal baby powder and it keeps my hair so incredibly soft.

❤︎ i also really love the gisou honey infused hair mask, it smells like honey (duh) and is really nourishing for my hair + leaves it nice and shiny and soft.

SILK PRESS SZN ;

the basic steps to having the best at-home silk press are simple! first, wash ur hair with a moisturizing shampoo. opt for a sulfate free shampoo that will hydrate ur hair, and not strip ur curls of their natural oils. make sure to wash shampoo ur hair 2x and make sure that theres no residual shampoo left!

deep condition ur hair and let that sit for about 30 minutes, then rinse out with cool water. the next step is also a big nonnegotiable with silk presses - using heat protectants. PROTECT YOUR HAIR. step four is to blow out ur hair with a round brush or a hair-dryer brush, after you've done this smooth some serum into ur hair for that shine and frizz free silk press that we're going for. lastly, flat iron ur hair.

so all in all these are the six steps to getting that perfect silk press at home...💬🎀

wash hair with a moisturizing shampoo

deep condition ur hair and let it sit for 30 minutes

dry ur hair and apply a heat protectant

blow out ur hair with a hair dryer brush or a round brush

smooth some serum into ur hair

flat iron ur hair

[luxaofhesperides]

Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.

Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 

The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 

But this time, the summoning feels different.

Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.

“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 

“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”

Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”

“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.

“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 

For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.

“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 

“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 

The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.

“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”

The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.

The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 

His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”

And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”

The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 

Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”

The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”

“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”

Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.

A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”

“Hold up that book for me, please?”

She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.

“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.

“Is there a problem, Great One?”

Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.

“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”

“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.

“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”

Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.

Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.

“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”

Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 

“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”

“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”

“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.

He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”

“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”

“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.

“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.

“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”

Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”

“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”

“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”

“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”

“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”

The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”

“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”

She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”

“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.

Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”

“But you accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 

It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.

“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 

He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.

He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.

Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.

Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 

“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”

“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”

“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”

Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”

“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.

Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.

They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 

Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.

“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.

It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.

Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”

Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”

“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”

“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”

Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”

He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—

“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”

Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”

They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.

“...Put it off until tomorrow?”

Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[tossawary]

A quote and thoughts regarding Shen Yuan's opinions on Liu Mingyan and the "sexiness" of the Liu Mingyan versus Sha Hualing setup. He knows what he should be feeling in this situation as a "normal straight guy", but I don't think he's actually feeling it.

"Shen Qingqiu was very fond of this female lead, and it wasn't only because Liu Mingya's beauty points were the highest. It was also because she had great poise. She always understood the big picture and grasped the general situation, and her conduct was fair and honest. Even in Luo Binghe's gigantic harem, a wife with both intelligence and moral character was rare.

There was one more appeal factor. Liu Mingyan was the only female character for whom Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky didn't write detailed sex scenes. Many readers had been highly dissatisfied with this arrangement, to the point that they spammed the comments with their ranting, but this had given Liu Mingyan something no other female lead had: an image as clear as ice and pure as jade!

Can't be helped, the unobtainable ones are always the best.

[Sweatdropping shrug kaomoji that I can't type out.]

This was what made the second match worth watching. An evil demoness naturally demanded a righteous saintess as a rival. Every man dreamed of being caught between an angel and a devil. To watch them jealously vie with each other over him one moment, then risk life and limb for his sake in the next - that was the highest, most sacred, perverted fantasy of every male organism. He could drunk off the wild, untamed charm of the wicked seductress, and at the same time his heart would ache for the austere taste of the pure saintess who kept pulling him closer only to push him away!

One had to admit, "Great Master" Airplane was genuinely good at nailing what people found satisfying. Shen Qingqiu couldn't help giving Luo Binghe another glance.

Luo Binghe found it very hard to not care about that gaze. Why exactly did Shen Qingqiu keep looking at him? Was it possible that Shizun... really had an interest in him?"

Volume 1, Chapter 2, pages 111-112.

I'm not sure where to start with this! It's a lot! I'll just work backwards: it is very funny to have Shen Qingqiu repeatedly looking towards Luo Binghe, trying to see Binghe's reactions to Sha Hualing and Liu Mingyan, and Binghe's just like, "Shizun is looking at me???" I think "interest" in this case just means interest in Binghe as a disciple with potential, rather than anything else. Binghe is not paying any real attention to Sha Hualing or Liu Mingyan's attractiveness.

Oh! A rare compliment towards "Great Master" Airplane! Shen Yuan, don't strain those rarely used muscles!

I do find it amusing that Shen Yuan refers to Liu Mingyan as "moral" and "righteous" and "pure" here. The vibe I got with Liu Mingyan is that she sided with Luo Binghe to take down her brother's murderer, which I would agree is righteous and abides by a set of morals. But the first few pages of SVSSS inform us that PIDW Luo Binghe viciously destroyed the great cultivation sects, which means that PIDW wife Liu Mingyan either helped or stepped aside when a whole bunch of murder happened.

And the "my favorite wife is the one with no (or limited) sex scenes" is a classic Shen Yuan moment and one of the reasons he reads as being strongly on the asexuality spectrum to me. The way that he talks about heterosexual "male" desire gives me the same vibe. Like he's separated from it. Like he knows this is what he's "supposed" to feel and he just... doesn't... and it's possibly hard for him to recognize what sexual desire feels like (as opposed to, say, general sexual arousal that doesn't necessarily have a target) if he's never actually experienced it himself. He knows what he should be feeling if he was the "every man" reader of PIDW.

Even when he talks about Sha Hualing and Liu Mingyan's appeal, he says "wild, untamed charm" and "pulling him closer only to push him away" as the key components of the fantasy. Like, "being flirted with" and "being fought over and fought for" and "appreciating a distant beauty" are more important than "having sex". "The most appealing thing about Liu Mingyan is that she wouldn't actually go through with trying to have sex with me," says Shen Yuan.

He's like, "Oh, I can recognize that Liu Mingyan and Sha Hualing are physically attractive, that probably means I'm an Ordinary Straight Man." Even though the way that he talked about Liu Qingge's looks in the Ling Xi Caves was... not very heterosexual... and here, he mostly seems excited just to see one of his favorite characters.

Admittedly, Sha Hualing appears 15-16 here and I think Liu Mingyan is around the same age (she doesn't have her spiritual sword yet), so Shen Yuan is probably also not attracted to them just because they're teenagers. (I do not interpret him as sexually or romantically interested in Binghe at all at this point in time.) I headcanon Shen Yuan being 20-ish at this point in time, so he's probably not that much older than SHL or LMY, but they're probably around his younger sister's age (Shen Yuan's younger sister was old enough to be reading non-con, gay, BDSM erotica.) Sha Hualing shows up half-naked and Shen Yuan is just like, "Where are your shoes? Did you walk here like this? Wasn't that painful?"

In my opinion, Shen Yuan seems a little... relieved... to think that no one could be sexually or romantically interested in the scum villain. He does lament that it's hard to get a girlfriend like this, sure. He does think that he's going to die and that he'd eventually lose any woman to Binghe, so there's no point in trying. But he really, really does not try. "Oh, I can't pursue anyone because they'd never be interested in me! How frustrating! ...Anyway! Moving on to enjoy the many other little pleasures of life! Like food and monsters!" I think the closest he comes to flirting with anyone is when speaking to Liu Qingge in the Ling Xi Caves, while Liu Qingge is coughing up blood, and that did not seem intentional.

I think if he had transmigrated into any other character, who wasn't an "unappealing" villain, Shen Yuan still wouldn't pursue women. I think he'd be like, "Well, I want a beautiful woman, because I have standards! But all beautiful women belong to the protagonist, and no one is better than Binghe, there's no way I'd win that competition, so there's no point in trying!" At which point, it's just like, "Shen Yuan, anyone becomes beautiful when you love or like them; I don't think you actually want to fuck women."

I think if Shen Yuan had transmigrated in as Luo Binghe, he still wouldn't try to pursue women. He'd be like, "I'm just raising my standards for the harem! Some of those wives were not very intelligent or in possession of good moral character! Nearly three-digits is disrespectful to the better wives! I'm only interested in especially beautiful and skilled women, like Liu Mingyan, who's perfect! (And also won't try to have sex with me.)"

Like, I am not against a bisexual Shen Yuan. I am willing to be persuaded to go along with many different interpretations! But he does read to me generally as a gay asexual / demisexual who hasn't yet realized that a desire to be fawned over and an ability to recognize beauty is not necessarily the same thing as sexual attraction. (I do think he is attracted to Binghe after Binghe gets back from the Endless Abyss, but his feelings there are tied up in his very real, reasonable fear of murder and mutilation.)

[thatscarletflycatcher]

The problem with discussions about Henry Crawford is that there are two different questions being asked at the same time: 1) Can Fanny reform Henry? and 2) Can Henry reform?

Austen answers negatively to the first one, but I'd argue she's very ambivalent in her answer to the second.

Austen is not in the habit of "punishing" her villains; none of them are struck by accidents of fortune or anything the like, but we commonly perceive the downgrade between what they could have had and what they end up having. Edward Ferrars is an infinitely preferrable husband to Robert Ferrars, but Lucy Steele never seems to become aware of that fact. Isabella tries to get Captain Tilney over James Morland. Mr. Elliot is not crying by the corners over the fact that he lost Anne Elliot. Even Willoughby's regret is not about Marianne's actual goodness, but his personal convenience. Austen's "villains" as a rule are morally stupid people.

When Aristotle says that no one can be good who is stupid, he doesn't have in mind things like being good at Math or being well read or quick-witted; he's thinking of a certain intuition, clear-sightedness about what is good, what contributes to human flourishing, and this seems to be a strong component of what Austen calls sense. Sense is almost convertible (if not completely) with prudence, and prudence is a rather intuitive virtue, as it regulates the when, the how, the how much, etc of the other moral virtues. (and there goes my first thesis topic that I never did!).

In that way it is interesting that only 4 characters are said to possess sense in Mansfield Park: Edmund, Fanny, Henry, and Tom (and Tom doesn't even fully count, because his is expressed negatively: instead of having sense, he doesn't lack it). Here are the Henry instances:

"He did not want them to die of love; but with sense and temper which ought to have made him judge and feel better, he allowed himself great latitude on such points." "Henry Crawford had too much sense not to feel the worth of good principles in a wife, though he was too little accustomed to serious reflection to know them by their proper name; but when he talked of her having such a steadiness and regularity of conduct, such a high notion of honour, and such an observance of decorum as might warrant any man in the fullest dependence on her faith and integrity, he expressed what was inspired by the knowledge of her being well principled and religious." "That punishment, the public punishment of disgrace, should in a just measure attend his share of the offence is, we know, not one of the barriers which society gives to virtue. In this world the penalty is less equal than could be wished; but without presuming to look forward to a juster appointment hereafter, we may fairly consider a man of sense, like Henry Crawford, to be providing for himself no small portion of vexation and regret: vexation that must rise sometimes to self-reproach, and regret to wretchedness, in having so requited hospitality, so injured family peace, so forfeited his best, most estimable, and endeared acquaintance, and so lost the woman whom he had rationally as well as passionately loved."

(I'm not counting the one time Edmund calls him a man of sense, and the one time Sir Thomas does the same, for obvious contextual reasons).

It's not only interesting that he is the only rake to be called a man of sense by the narrator (Mrs. Smith calling Mr. Elliot a man of sense in Persuasion is clearly not meant to be taken straight), but that it is always specifically tied to moral perceptiveness; he was morally perceptive enough to know he shouldn't have played the way he did, and he chose to ignore it. He perceives Fanny's moral worth, and it is the core reason why he wants to marry her.* He also perceives William's moral worth as something both good and desirable:

"To Henry Crawford they gave a different feeling. He longed to have been at sea, and seen and done and suffered as much. His heart was warmed, his fancy fired, and he felt the highest respect for a lad who, before he was twenty, had gone through such bodily hardships and given such proofs of mind. The glory of heroism, of usefulness, of exertion, of endurance, made his own habits of selfish indulgence appear in shameful contrast; and he wished he had been a William Price, distinguishing himself and working his way to fortune and consequence with so much self-respect and happy ardour, instead of what he was!"

Both here and at the end of the novel, Henry's moral perceptiveness leads to remorse for his own moral wrongdoings. Compare this to Willoughby's regret over Marianne:

"Willoughby could not hear of her marriage without a pang; and his punishment was soon afterwards complete in the voluntary forgiveness of Mrs. Smith, who, by stating his marriage with a woman of character, as the source of her clemency, gave him reason for believing that had he behaved with honour towards Marianne, he might at once have been happy and rich. That his repentance of misconduct, which thus brought its own punishment, was sincere, need not be doubted;—nor that he long thought of Colonel Brandon with envy, and of Marianne with regret. But that he was for ever inconsolable, that he fled from society, or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a broken heart, must not be depended on—for he did neither. He lived to exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. His wife was not always out of humour, nor his home always uncomfortable; and in his breed of horses and dogs, and in sporting of every kind, he found no inconsiderable degree of domestic felicity."

This sense/moral perceptiveness of Henry Crawford, and his experiencing remorse for his own wrongdoings sets him apart from the other Austen rakes. He's also not a drinker or a gambler; he does take at least minimal care of Everingham ("Everingham could not do without him in the beginning of September. He went for a fortnight") and did some modifications to it as soon as he got it. The same way Darcy's character is revealed as we see Pemberley, so the inflexion point of Henry's redemption attempt is his trying to become a better master of his estate:

For her approbation, the particular reason of his going into Norfolk at all, at this unusual time of year, was given. It had been real business, relative to the renewal of a lease in which the welfare of a large and—he believed—industrious family was at stake. He had suspected his agent of some underhand dealing; of meaning to bias him against the deserving; and he had determined to go himself, and thoroughly investigate the merits of the case. He had gone, had done even more good than he had foreseen, had been useful to more than his first plan had comprehended, and was now able to congratulate himself upon it, and to feel that in performing a duty, he had secured agreeable recollections for his own mind. He had introduced himself to some tenants whom he had never seen before; he had begun making acquaintance with cottages whose very existence, though on his own estate, had been hitherto unknown to him. This was aimed, and well aimed, at Fanny. It was pleasing to hear him speak so properly; here he had been acting as he ought to do. To be the friend of the poor and the oppressed! Nothing could be more grateful to her; and she was on the point of giving him an approving look, when it was all frightened off by his adding a something too pointed of his hoping soon to have an assistant, a friend, a guide in every plan of utility or charity for Everingham: a somebody that would make Everingham and all about it a dearer object than it had ever been yet. She turned away, and wished he would not say such things. She was willing to allow he might have more good qualities than she had been wont to suppose. She began to feel the possibility of his turning out well at last; but he was and must ever be completely unsuited to her, and ought not to think of her.

I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property. I was not explicit enough with him before. The mischief such a man does on an estate, both as to the credit of his employer and the welfare of the poor, is inconceivable. I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?” “I advise! You know very well what is right.” “Yes. When you give me your opinion, I always know what is right. Your judgment is my rule of right.” “Oh, no! do not say so. We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.

This is even more hammered in by the narrator: "Had he done as he intended, and as he knew he ought, by going down to Everingham after his return from Portsmouth, he might have been deciding his own happy destiny."

All these elements seem to point towards his being redeemable; he almost managed it! If only he'd gone to Everingham instead of London, catastrophic failure would have been averted! And yet at the same time we are told this:

Henry Crawford, ruined by early independence and bad domestic example, indulged in the freaks of a cold-blooded vanity a little too long. Once it had, by an opening undesigned and unmerited, led him into the way of happiness. Could he have been satisfied with the conquest of one amiable woman’s affections, could he have found sufficient exultation in overcoming the reluctance, in working himself into the esteem and tenderness of Fanny Price, there would have been every probability of success and felicity for him. His affection had already done something. Her influence over him had already given him some influence over her. Would he have deserved more, there can be no doubt that more would have been obtained, especially when that marriage had taken place, which would have given him the assistance of her conscience in subduing her first inclination, and brought them very often together. Would he have persevered, and uprightly, Fanny must have been his reward, and a reward very voluntarily bestowed, within a reasonable period from Edmund’s marrying Mary.

Ruined by early independence and bad domestic example. Mansfield Park is in a way a rather pessimist novel: it is a novel about education, and once your education has "set", your character is fixed, and your fate determined. Much of Maria and Julia's disgrace was also directly caused by their upbringing in a household where all importance was given to superficial qualities, and very little effective affection was shared; one can compare the restrained calm of Mansfield as a reflection of Sir Thomas' own unwillingness to see reality and give himself some discomfort in making others comfortable, with the bustle of the Musgrove household, and connect the dots to what makes the relationship between sisters Maria and Julia so different from the one between Louisa and Henrietta in similar situations.

In the end, it's a bit of a Schröedinger's cat situation. Can Henry reform? Yes, says Austen, he has the qualities needed for moral improvement, but no, his upbringing ruined him, and his character is fixed.

While this idea is the strongest in MP, it is present one way or another in all Austen's novels. Characters reforming is usually more about one specific quality or moral tone not being fine tuned than proper metanoia. Darcy was taught to do right, and did right; what he needed was to add proper humility and kindness to his practice. There is an exception, though, the one thing Charlotte Brontë and Jane Austen agree upon: a close brush with death is the best recipe for moral cure in the otherwise incurable.

Maybe the key is to wish Henry a good pneumonia, or a strong horsefall-induced concussion.

_____________

*On a side note, it's interesting that before he proposes, he considers how attached Fanny is to Mansfield, as undeserving as he thinks the Bertrams to be of her affection, and even draws a plan that contemplates giving her pleasure that way too: "I will not take her from Northamptonshire. I shall let Everingham, and rent a place in this neighbourhood; perhaps Stanwix Lodge."

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 2

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Words: 2010

---

He shakes his head, like clearing the fog from his brain, and steps forward. “I’m Jake,” he says, reaching his hand out toward you. 

It’s done in such a casually confident manner that it dares you to take a step back, out of his reach and far from his influence. You take his hand anyway. 

His palm against yours creates a slight buzzing sensation at your fingertips making you pull your hand away and tighten it into a fist before tucking it behind your back. “That makes more sense than the pretty brunette.”

“Oh, don’t flatter her. She’s not that great,” he says. There’s a light chuckle as he slips his hands into his front pockets. On any other man, you’d acknowledge the hint of nerves accompanying the action, but with this man in particular you brush it off. There is no way this man has ever been nervous a day in his life. “I’m surprised you’re up. Are you okay with your room?”

You glance down at the suitcase not far from where you stand. “I didn’t look for it. Seemed like snooping.”

“Oh, shit. That’s my fault.” Hand flying out of his pocket, he runs it down his face again. He blows out a breath that feels like some form of self-scolding for letting himself neglect you, then bends down to wrap his fingers around the handle of your suitcase. “You can come with me.”

The apartment, while nice, isn’t overly large. The door to what you learn is your room can be seen from your first few steps through the front entryway, but still, you’re glad you didn’t peek on your own. You could’ve found yourself face-to-face with his private space and unable to avoid developing opinions of him based on the first-glance contents of his room. 

With a turn and a push, Jake opens your door and stands back against one side of the frame so you can enter. Side-stepping past him, though, is a bit of a squeeze and you can’t help the way your breasts brush across his chest. You don’t miss his flinch and the sharp intake of air through his nose.

“Sorry,” you mutter. 

Whether or not he heard you goes unknown as he sets your suitcase down once you’re inside the room and begins his mini tour. “Um, bed,” comes out a little gritty. He points to the largest piece of furniture in the room like you’re a two-year-old learning the names of basic household items. With a cough to clear his throat, he continues. “That door over there is the closet,” he points some more. “And that one’s the bathroom. It’s small, but I hope it’ll be alright for you.”

There’s a pang in your stomach from his last two words. For you. An unnecessary addition with so much power. Power you refuse to let yourself dwell on. 

“It’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Right, well I’ll, uh–” Those eyes do their scanning of you again. Lips, breasts, hips. Blink and you would’ve missed it. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” he says. "It's nice to meet you."

You would say the same, but he’s gone before you get the chance. Shutting the door behind him, you toss your suitcase onto the bed and begin to unpack. 

—

The funny thing about these towns—while each one is different from another in appearance and people, they always reveal themselves to share a core component. Your willingness to stay put, and for how long, lies with this component. It is a matter of how intense this component—this judgment—is, and whether or not it infects enough around you to transform everything into a reminder of why you do not belong. While many things have the potential to prove you right or wrong as far as the degree to which you might be judged, what remains a constant disappointment is your attempts to obtain a job. 

It doesn’t matter where you look. You get the same once-over, the same raised brow, the same unspoken questions lingering in the air. Are you lost? Did you stumble through the wrong door?

In one day you’ve been turned down by three jobs with ‘help wanted’ signs stuck on the inside of their building’s front window. What’s worse is that, in following typical company policy, they don’t shoo you away at the door. They take your resume, they sit you down, ask you a host of questions, and eventually declare you’re not right for the position. 

A restaurant manager did not see you fit for a waitress. Neither did a cafe owner find you capable as a barista. The most painful, however, was also the riskiest. The head of the sales floor at the lingerie boutique who seemed to think women of a certain size aren’t in need of lacy fabrics that accentuate their best bits and pieces because surely they don’t have sex.

That was the one that did you in for the day and now has you moseying back to the apartment. 

You walk through the door and shed yourself of jacket, purse, and shoes, likely looking as exhausted as your new roommate did when you first laid eyes on him the night before. You knew you recognized something in the weariness of his eyes. While unexpected, last night Jake Seresin was tired because someone—or many someones—had worn him out. 

“Hi.”

You jolt upright, head instinctually turning toward the voice. You’re not used to sharing your space, and obviously so since Jake immediately raises his hands in silent apology for startling you.

“Hi,” you reply, the word riding on the sigh that passes through your lips. 

With as much as you can muster for him, you offer a smile before aiming for your bedroom. But you don’t get far. 

“What have you been up to all day?” he asks, halting you. 

He’s not going to let you go, you realize, not without giving him something in return. Though, seeing as he’s your new roommate who took you in on short notice and charges you pennies to stay, you figure you can oblige. 

He’s sitting at the island in the kitchen, now with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other. His thumb taps away at the screen, but when you near him he quickly sets it down to offer you his full attention. It’s then that you notice his missing shirt. Your mind must have filled in that blank. You’d assumed some sort of tank top was hidden by the angle at which he sat when you entered the apartment; that the fabric’s color was not so different from the tone of his skin. Looking at him in his bareness now, you can’t ignore how ridiculous that thought was.

You also can’t ignore him; sitting there without shame, practically taunting you to run your eyes over every ridge and valley of his sculpted form. And it is sculpted. Artwork. 

But you don’t allow yourself the luxury. Instead, you answer, “Looking for a job.”

Jake sits a little straighter. “I can probably help with that,” he says. “I’ve got a friend who owns a bar down the street, and–”

“No!” you snap. The hope that it wasn’t as harsh as it sounded is snuffed out by the slight widening of his eyes. “Thank you,” is softer, “but no bars.”

He watches you a moment longer before he nods and repeats, “No bars. Got it.” Another moment of silence fills the room until he breaks it. “I’ll ask around.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.” You wave away the thought and shake your head, aiming to get off the topic. Solidifying that is your immediate shift onto him. He seems like a guy who probably enjoys talking about himself, anyway. “So, you don’t fly on the weekend?”

“Not unless I have to.”

“Have people stopped traveling on Saturdays?”

Blond brows pinch as he twists the beer bottle in absent-minded circles with his fingertips. “What?”

Crossing your arms, you step further into the kitchen until your stomach is resting against the edge of the island. “Your friend said you’re a pilot. I just figured you’d be working a lot.”

Jake’s face doesn’t change; still the epitome of confusion, and you don’t know how to fill the painfully long beats while he examines you. Why you let him examine you must be a slip of the conscious mind, but you keep still. Then his face settles. He takes a sip of his beer, sets it down, and, instead of simply looking at you, stares hard into your eyes. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Wh–” you pause, readjusting your stance. “What makes you think that?”

“Anyone who says ‘pilot’ in this town—or frankly, even close by—assumes Navy, not airline,” he says. If he’s insulted, it doesn’t show. “I’m far from some Delta guy.”

Internally you curse. That err in knowledge peels back a layer of your paint, inviting curiosity and questions. And by the gleam in Jake’s eye, you’re sure you’re going to get plenty. “You’re in the Navy.”

“I am,” he confirms with a single nod. “And most people here have ties to it in some way. But not you, it seems.”

You fidget in the gap between his statements. 

“So, where exactly did you come from,” he continues, a wry smile stretching his lips, “And how did you end up here of all places?”

When you meet his stare, you don’t care for the sparkle peeking through. “I drove.”

His head throws back in laughter. “That’s all I get?”

“That’s all you need,” you stress. It’s his own fault for not asking those questions following your email answering his ad. He had an opportunity. He didn’t take it. That’s not your problem. And the longer you stand here, clearly providing him with entertainment, you're once again struck with the desperation to get his attention off of you. 

Without much to grasp, you go for the obvious. You allow your eyes to trail downwards and morph your features into a forced grimace. “Don’t you wear clothes?”

“Oh.” Looking down at himself, a gulp bulges his throat. “My bad. It’s been a while since I’ve had to wear a shirt around the place.” Is that disappointment in his tone? Maybe. Who in the world wouldn’t be insulted at the request to put on more clothes instead of removing an additional article? You certainly have been, so who is to say Jake Seresin—who undoubtedly has never faced such a request—wouldn’t feel the same?

To your surprise, he hops up immediately and rounds the island for his room; a move you would appreciate much more if it didn’t reveal the gray sweatpants settled low on his hips. There’s a defined V and a line of hair that disappears below the waistband. You hate that V. You hate that dusting of hair, blonder against his tan skin. Men with Vs and an irritatingly perfect amount of hair there are trouble. Each and every one of them. 

“I’ll go get that shirt. Don’t go anywhere.”

For whatever reason—one you’re unwilling to dissect—you do as he asks. But then a light flashes in your peripheral vision. The screen of his phone in response to a new message. 

You don’t want to look, not really, but you can’t help yourself. Years of people whispering behind your back, sneaking glances, chuckling, has planted the evergrowing seed of paranoia. Inching closer to the phone, you tap the rectangular block on his screen that reads Nat. Though the phone is locked, the notification expands to reveal the full message. 

See, Paranoid is an interesting label. It accuses you of misunderstanding, of being too suspicious, too anxious, or even crazy; and you won’t deny you’ve probably been wrong before, assuming people are talking about you who haven’t spared you a thought. But sometimes, that label is unfair. Sometimes—often, in fact—you are right. 

And when you read ‘Not what you expected, is she?’ followed by a tiny smirking face, you know this is one of those times.

---

A/N: I hope you liked it! If there are typos blame that on my anxiety. I've got a life-defining procedure tomorrow so wish me luck

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado

[dunmeshichilchuck]

For That One Guy On Tumblr

Chilchuck x !fem ! halffoot Reader

So this starts off during the sauna episode. I'm changing it a bit to where that floor has been that cold since the dungeon was created. There will probably be more installments but right now it's just setting things up. Anyway, enjoy.

The last thing you remembered was cold, leeching into your bones. Cold, and the certainty that this would be the last thing you'd ever feel. Your party had left you to die rather than try to heal your wounds, and this floor was too deep for someone else to come along and take pity on you before your body rotted. You were going to become a ghost, haunting this dungeon without ever being able to leave. 

And then you opened your eyes again, and you were all too warm. 

You took a few shuddering breaths, coughing and gasping. Your lungs burned like they were on fire and your whole body ached. You curled up into yourself, shivering. And then you became aware of what was going on around you. And also that for some reason everyone was wrapped in towels instead of normal clothing.

"YOU MEAN YOU HAD NORMAL RESURRECTION MAGIC THAT COULD DO SHIT LIKE THIS THIS WHOLE TIME???!!! ARE YOU STUPID? WE COULD HAVE AVOIDED THIS WHOLE THING!" 

Another....halffoot? Shouted. 

"I already EXPLAINED why I couldn't have used normal magic!!" A blond elf woman shouted back in an exasperated high pitched squeal. "It wouldn't have worked! The thread between body and soul was too tenuous! And we'd never have been able to get enough regular meat down there! Anyway I don't understand why you're so against it, I didn't see you arguing against it at the time!" 

A blond tall man, blindfolded? For some reason? Interjected. "Marcille is right! Even though the body was in a not so great condition the ice kept it from rotting so all the component parts were still there! We just got lucky that we were able to gather them all together! Once the body thawed resurrecting it was a simple matter! There was no need for special magic like with Falin." 

They continued to argue violently while your recently unfrozen brain attempted to make sense of the situation. 

Had the half foot somehow had enough pull in the party he'd been able to convince them that they should revive you? You weren't much use on this floor and presumably deeper ones where small traps gave way to larger monsters, so you couldn't work out any reason they had for reviving you. You looked around the small, actually extremely hot room you were in. It was...a sauna? Was it really a sauna? What the fuck? 

You smelled something delicious and you looked around to see a dwarf with long black hair and a massive bushy black beard peacefully tending to meat cooking over what looked very much like a wok. What the fuck? They were a high enough level party to have fresh meat down here? That would explain why they'd been able to spare the revival for you. 

There was also what looked like a beast girl crouched next to him, watching the squabbling party members with a bored expression on her face. Well. That was just another one of the things to file away and deal with later. 

Almost instinctively you staggered to your feet and crouched down by the dwarf to watch him cook. Your stomach grumbled insistently. Even in normal circumstances getting revived made you ravenous. Now you felt dizzy with hunger. 

"Ah, hello there!" The dwarf looked up at you and beamed. "Always nice to have new folk eat with us! You must be hungry after getting revived, food should be ready in just a few minutes."

He continued cooking, humming softly to himself. 

"Would you...like some help?" You managed to rasp out. Throat hoarse with disuse. 

At this point it seemed like the other people there remembered your existence. 

"Ah! So sorry, you're awake!" The elf said. "You were out for a long time, I didn't know if the magic would fully take with how long you'd been in the ice."

"How...how long?" You said, almost dreading the answer. 

"At least a couple of years, based on the state of your organs and bones" the blindfolded tall man said enthusiastically. "You were lucky! The extreme cold preserved you extremely well and there aren't any monsters down here that would go to the trouble of digging you out of the ice." 

You blinked at him. 

"How did you get all the way down here?" The elf asked. "Was your party wiped out? We looked but we couldn't find anyone else."

"I'll bet they left her behind." The halffoot interjected dourly. "She probably got injured and they didn't want to waste time resurrecting her or bringing her along." 

"what!" The elf gasped. "that's terrible, no one would do that! Why would you even think of that Chilchuck??" 

"Like I keep telling you guys, halffoots are treated as expendable! It'd be totally within the realm of possibility! Especially since she didn't sign on with the union or we woulda recorded when her party came back without her or she just never came back at all!" He frowned. "That's why I started the damn thing in the first place but if not everyone uses it it's not fucking good to anyone."

he (chilchuck?) turned abruptly to you. "Anyway, why didn't you use the union? We would have been able to look out for you so this didn't happen."

You stared at him in utter confusion. "....union?" 

[cecilysass]

Undercover Smolder Mulder: Pine Bluff Variant Fic Recs

I'd describe Pine Bluff Variant as a low key fan favorite, an episode that I even feel like appreciation has grown for over the years. Oh sure, it doesn’t get the fan love that a Memento Mori or Pusher might, but we sure do see those Mulder Scully intense looks gifs popping up pretty often, right? Plus, it has partner trust angst, undercover intrigue, hurt/comfort, genuine thriller-style suspense, and serious MSR overtones.

I like PBV for all of those reasons obviously, but also because it feels like the show going with a slightly different tone. Starting from its action-based, FBI operation cold open, we know this is more conspiracy / bioterrorist thriller than classic X-file. Yes, there’s a sci fi component to the biotoxin--and the scenes that reveal its victims have a horror feel--but this episode just isn’t as much about the supernatural. It also raises the interesting--and nowadays more pointed--question: aren’t anti-government groups operating under their own rules sometimes potentially as dangerous as the government itself?

TXF tried several kinds of experiments in its later seasons, in production and structure of show (Triangle or X-Cops), in exploring all kinds of playful, self-aware and satirical comedy (lots of season 6, Hollywood A.D., etc.), in making drastic moves with its mytharc (One Son, Requiem, etc). Going in the direction of a more purely action-suspense thriller for a MOTW wasn’t something they ever tried again (that I can think of anyway). And I think that's kind of a shame? It feels like a good change up. Different without messing too much with the show’s basic DNA.

Not to mention, y'all, Scully thinks he betrayed her! And there's the scene with the finger! And Mulder thinks he's going to die! There's so much good stuff here!

Here is a list of Pine Bluff Variant fic recs. (As usual, I really think there should be more. This episode has sooooo many openings. You should write some.)

Calling Bluffs - mangokiwitropicalswirl An angsty little post ep that doesn’t flinch from the way coming close to death affects Mulder (or Scully). It also raises the question of how much their bond always puts them at risk. Moving ending.

Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One Before - pinebluffvariant Immediately post ep, Scully protects Mulder. There is some satisfying hurt/comfort. But what really shines in this fic is the ending, which ties a nice bow on season 5 and kicks me in the feels. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, indeed: sniff.

Passing Solace - DarlaBlack An intensely romantic NC-17 scene set in the middle of the episode, focused on their deep care and need for one another. Beautifully written.

All of This (around) Us - secondsflat In this sweet fic they share whiskey before Scully sets his finger bone, and Scully voices her frustration at not knowing about his undercover work. An intimate, atmospheric little scene.

Snakebitten - onpaperfirst This is a riff on all of season 5 written with great skill and subtlety. So, so good. It’s canon divergent in that it seeds the Pine Bluff Variant / New Spartans storyline back earlier in the season—and it has more RST. Such a treat.

Postcards Slipped Under the Door - skuls Two years after Pine Bluff Variant, some time after the events of En Ami in season 7, Mulder begins receiving ominous postcards from the New Spartans, suggesting they have regrouped. Skinner and Scully think it’s too dangerous for him to get involved in the case again, so Scully goes instead. This is hard on Mulder, as they’re in a recently begun relationship. Angsty, plot-driven, satisfying.

[alphajocklover]

What about a wholesome story?

Nerd is transformed into jock, but the nerd was so annoying, cruel, and rude, and the jock is so cheerful and friendly, that people prefer him as a jock.

Almost everyone hated Francis Williams. Francis was a stereotypical geek, scrawny as can be, with no muscle, but incredibly smart and equally nerdy. But that wasn’t why people hated him. Sure some people hated Francis because he was a nerd, but most hated him for a much more understandable reason: Francis Williams was a fucking asshole.

Francis was the kind of guy that pissed off everyone, seemingly just for fun. He seemed to get a thrill out of finding just the right way to insult someone and watching them breakdown. He’d break down someone to their base components, find their weaknesses and target them relentlessly. He was a miserable person who treated everyone like they were beneath him. Absolutely no one liked him. Except for Josh Hours.

Josh was a jock, one that was popular for all the right reasons. Friendly, charming, funny and kind, Josh got along with almost everyone. Except Francis. Francis was just as cruel and nasty to Josh as he was to everyone, if not worse. Josh always just laughed it off though. He always went out of his way to be kind to Francis, to try and be his friend, and Francis met this kindness with constant insults and unfiltered hate. Until eventually… something changed.

No one was sure how it happened. Maybe Josh wished upon a magic star for Francis to understand him. Maybe one of Josh’s friends, who saw how badly Francis treated him, sent him a mysterious app. Maybe Francis finally woke up to his true self after a strange encounter. Whatever happened, the outcome was the same: one day Francis was a nerd, and the next he was a Jock. Everyone was aware of the sudden transformation, but no one really wanted to look into it. Mainly because jock Francis, or Frank as he liked to be called, was actually a really great guy. He was confident, kind, outgoing, friendly. Sure he was dumb as a rock but somehow that was just part of his charm. Frank had gone from being the most hated kid in his college to being one of the most beloved.

No one was more thrilled about it than Josh. It took about a week for Josh and Frank to become a couple, and soon they were happy as can be. It made sense that they were so perfectly matched. They were both jocks after all.

**Hope you guys liked this one. It’s a little more wholesome and fluffy than what I usually do, but I enjoyed writing it. Plus who doesn’t like seeing two hot guys kiss? Anyways enjoy!**

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Two envelopes arrive in the mail. One makes you and Bradley smile, the other, not so much. But you'll figure out how to deal with what is out of your control just like you always do. And when it turns out you can help Cat in a big way, you're happy to do it. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Cat was still quiet around you, but it felt a little less hostile and a little more innocuous. You didn't need her to be your friend, and as long as work wasn't becoming a nightmare, you figured you could deal with it. Because being at home with Bradley was at times more stressful for you than being at work.

"Are you ovulating, Baby Girl?" Bradley asked when you walked inside after work with the mail in your hands. Your husband knew your cycle by now. He knew it well before you were even married. Before you were engaged. There was no point in trying to lie to him about this.

"Yes," you whispered softly. You sounded so needy with just that one word, no wonder he was all over you. When his lips met yours, you moaned and started to stumble toward the bedroom. The trail of khaki uniform components you left in your wake would make you laugh thirty minutes from now, but in the moment, you needed your husband to cum inside you.

And while you knew Bradley was trying to make every single time count now, he still felt the same as he always did. He worshipped every curve of your body, kissing your tattoo until you were breathless for him. His big hands were wrapped around your thighs, spreading you wide open so he could taste you before he started thrusting. 

"You're perfect," he crooned next to your ear, methodically coaxing your orgasm from you with his words and his body. You wanted this one to be the one that worked, because he felt so good. He was perfect, too.

With your hands on his shoulders and your body sated beneath his, Bradley dipped his forehead down to your shoulder and chanted your name until he was no longer moving. "Fuck," he grunted, still fully seated inside you as he grew softer. His full body weight made breathing a little difficult, but you didn't want him to move yet. He smelled good, and his skin was warm and slick with sweat. You slid your hands down to his biceps and whined when he started to move.

"Stop," you commanded, and he kissed your lips, not moving another inch until you were ready.

A few minutes later, when you came out of the bathroom, you pulled on his discarded undershirt and made your way to the kitchen. "So how was your day?" he asked, picking up all of the uniform pieces.

"It was pretty good, Roo. Jake came up to my lab for lunch since you were working with the instructors today." Bradley had been invited to help instruct several times recently, and you could tell he was cautiously optimistic about what that meant.

"Great," he replied sarcastically. "I'll bet everyone in your lab thinks Jake is your side piece."

You started laughing as you opened the mail. "Nah, here's in there more often than you are at this point. If anything, they think you're my side piece."

You bit your lip as he came up behind you at the kitchen counter and spanked your butt where it was bare underneath his shirt. "That's not funny, Sweetheart," he murmured next to your ear, but he sounded amused. He was palming your butt, and you started to wonder if he'd be ready for round two before or after dinner. 

"Oh look!" you gasped, opening the thick, cream envelope and pulling out the invitation to your promotion banquet. You squealed and spun in his arms. "It's in four weeks!" 

"I'm so proud of you," he promised, holding you as you read the full invitation out loud to him. He kissed the top of your head and promised he'd be there to pin you. "I'll pin my wife. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Sounds ideal, Roo," you said, setting the invitation aside so you could add it to your calendar and text a photo to your parents. Then you opened the rest of the mail. A mortgage statement. Junk. A credit card bill. More junk. And then an envelope addressed to Bradley that made your heart stop for a few beats. 

You handed it to him without a word and watched him open it, but he was more focused on you. The bob of his Adam's apple as he read the first few lines had tears welling in your eyes. He tossed the paper aside and reached for you. As you clambered to get your arms around him as quickly as you could, you whispered, "When?"

He kissed your temple and said, "Two days after your banquet."

You sobbed and asked, "How long?"

"Two months."

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

Bradley only had one more month with you before he'd be spending two months on an aircraft carrier. He sat in the locker room on base and did the math. You were ovulating right now. And you'd be ovulating right before he left. He'd hate to miss a positive pregnancy test, but at least he knew he had two chances before he'd miss a few of your cycles completely.

When he strolled out into the hallway, he saw Nat, and he knew right away. "You got papers."

Her eyes went wide. "I did. So did Bob." 

He let out a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck," he whispered, falling into step next to her as she headed toward the tarmac. "I hate leaving her. But it's so much fucking worse when you're gone at the same time."

"I know," she replied, patting his forearm through his flight suit. "But Jake will be here."

Bradley still felt frustrated that you held back telling him the things that you told Jake right away, but he understood you needed your friend. "How the hell did I end up with Jake Seresin permanently in my life like this? It's fucking ridiculous, Nat."

She snorted. "Hey, just remember... he asked her out first. You could be standing on the sidelines watching a very different game at the moment if she hadn't found him so annoying."

"Nah," he replied with a smile. "My wife has excellent taste."

She smiled back at him as they walked out into the bright sunlight. When Bradley saw Bob, he held up his hand and gave him a thumbs down. 

"Oh, you got papers too? You're with us?" he asked, gesturing between Nat and himself. 

"Sure am," he groaned. "I should be thankful or happy. Being deployed with friends is always better. But I'm just... not."

Bob smiled. "I wouldn't be either if I was married to your wife." His eyes went wide, and he started stuttering, but Bradley just waved him off. 

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied, grabbing his helmet and getting to work. At least he wasn't flying like shit this week. He and Coyote got eliminated first, but it was because of a risky move that didn't pay off, not because he felt out of sync. 

So when he saw Hondo on the tarmac, a smug smile on his face, Bradley gave him a fist bump. "You two almost pulled it off. Almost," he told Bradley and Javy. "Two hundred pushups, fellas."

"God damn, it's hot today," Bradley groaned, dropping into position and digging in while Hondo started counting them off. The first one hundred weren't too bad, but the back end really got to him. He was pouring sweat and huffing a bit while Javy looked completely at ease. Shit, the last fifteen were terrible, and he almost collapsed onto his elbows before he managed to sit up. 

"You okay, old man?" Javy asked him with a laugh after Hondo dismissed them both for the day. "Having trouble keeping up?"

"This shit used to be easier," Bradley grunted, letting Javy help him up. "Thanks."

"Careful. Don't let Mav hear you say that, or he'll get you a cane."

Bradley chuckled on his way back to the locker room. Damn, his shoulders were aching. He wasn't that old. Well, he was old compared to you. And most of the other aviators at Top Gun. "Fuck," he muttered, turning toward the elevator bank and pressing the button to go up. 

You usually made such a fuss over him, sometimes he forgot he was six years older than you. He wasn't bad looking or anything, but you definitely looked younger than him. He would have to hit the gym out in the garage more. And when he was deployed, working out would be pretty much the only thing he could do for entertainment. 

He pulled out his phone before he knocked on your office door, smiling at your name placard. When you opened it with a look of surprise on your face, he was playing your wedding song and singing along. 

"Roo," you sighed, smiling up at him. You pushed your door open wider with a soft laugh. "Did you come all the way up here to serenade me?"

"Something like that," he murmured. "Gotta make the next four weeks count. You free?"

"Yeah, I was just packing up to leave, actually." You bit your lip as you closed the door and ran your fingers through his hair. Your soft moan had him pushing you back toward your desk. "You're all sweaty. God, you look good."

"Do I?" he asked, leaning down to kiss you.

"Bradley, you always look good. The flight suit definitely doesn't hurt either."

He watched you squeeze your khaki covered thighs together while his phone played Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac. He set it on your desk and pressed his body to yours. "Shit. I love how you're reacting to me." He took your chin between his thumb and fingers. "Just look at you, Baby Girl."

"I'm so horny," you gasped. "You know how I get when I'm ovulating. And you're all sweaty. And you smell like jet fuel."

He tipped your chin up a little higher before placing the softest kiss to your lips. You were trying to get more from him, but he just gave you gentle kiss after gentle kiss until you were grabbing at the front of his flight suit. 

"Bradley," you keened. He certainly didn't feel so old now as you begged for more. 

"This isn't why I came up here," he whispered. "Just wanted to see if you left for the day." He let his hand drift from your chin back along your jaw to the back of your neck. You took the opportunity to throw your arms around his neck and place the filthiest kisses on his lips. You were tasting his tongue and pulling his bottom lip between our teeth. But when you actually licked a trail of sweat from his neck, Bradley spun you around and pulled you close so your back was pressed to his front. 

"Please?" you asked softly, and he reached around to the front of your khaki pants with both hands and unzipped them. You grabbed his forearms with both of your hands as he undid the button as well. 

"I can't say no to you," he whispered, easing his right hand inside your pants and running his fingers along your underwear. "These your black and white lacy ones?"

He knew all of your underwear by feel alone, and when he smiled against your neck, you moaned, "Yes. I love it when you do that."

Bradley slipped his hand down the front of your underwear, and you arched your back against him. When he took your left hand in his, he pulled it up to his mouth, kissing your rings as he grazed your clit.

"Fuck," you gasped, jolting a little bit against him. "This is like the first time you ever touched me. Up against your Bronco in the Hard Deck parking lot."

"Shit," he grunted, circling your clit with his middle finger before sliding it down your slit. "I couldn't get enough of you then, and I still can't."

"Bradley!"

"Keep quiet, Baby Girl," he warned, pressing his erection into you while he slipped his finger inside. "God, you're wet. You been thinking about this all day?" You felt like silk to his rough fingertips, and Bradley wasn't in any hurry. He just let you babble nonsensically as you pressed your thighs together again. 

Soon you were begging for release, riding his finger so sweetly, he added a second one for you. Then, with a soft swipe of his thumb on your clit, you were fluttering around him and whining his name. He sucked on your neck as you rode out your orgasm, shaking gently against him. 

"Oh," you moaned, lessening the grip you had on his left hand as he eased his right out of the front of your pants. When you spun to face him, he was licking his hand clean. "Do you want me to go down on you?"

"No," he grunted, leaning down to kiss you and let you taste yourself. "I want you to meet me at home so I can fuck you all night."

"Let's go." You were reaching for your keys and your bag, and Bradley had to pull you close to zip your pants up before he followed you out of your office.

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

You felt so good. Your husband had been treating you to his delicious cock at least twice a day while you were ovulating. On Friday morning, you were flat on your back in bed, full of his cum, watching him strut around the room naked with his bicep tattoo on display.

"Come on, Sweetheart," he rasped. "You'll be late for work."

"I've just been fucked within an inch of my life. I think my boss would understand."

Bradley barked out a laugh. "You want to call Bickel and find out?"

You sat up and shook your head. "No. Could you imagine? Sir, my husband was hitting my G-spot for like twenty minutes, so I'm going to just roll in after lunchtime, okay?"

Now he was doubled over in laughter as you climbed out of bed and adjusted your glasses. You kissed him on your way to the bathroom, and he told you, "Don't forget, Hard Deck tonight."

"I've never forgotten about a single Hard Deck night in my life, Roo."

"Yeah, because I always remind you," he called after you as he pulled on some underwear so he could let Tramp outside and start the coffee. 

It felt like the perfect day as he left with his travel mug after kissing you dozens of times. You were sipping your coffee and thinking about checking when your period was due, but you didn't let yourself. You thought about skipping breakfast after looking at your butt in the mirror, but you ate some yogurt instead. 

Then you got to work early, and your boss called you into his office to make sure you got the invitation to your promotion banquet. You ended up chatting with him for a while before you had to tell him you needed to get your work done. 

"I should be the one reminding you of that, Lieutenant Commander," he replied with a chuckle. You stood as soon as you were dismissed, smiling at your new title as you walked down the hallway. 

When you heard someone calling your first name, you turned to see your friend Cam sticking his head out of his lab door. 

"Hey, stranger," he said with a smile, adjusting his glasses. You strolled back to see him. 

"You guys never work with your door open," you said suspiciously. His boss was way more of a hardass than yours, and you didn't want him to get in trouble. 

He rolled his eyes. "He does hate an open door. It encourages making friends with and talking to people who work in other labs. Didn't you know?" 

"Oh shit," you said, looking down at yourself and wincing playfully. "God, I miss working with you. Are you coming to the bar tonight?"

"Maybe. I was just about to ask you if you were eating lunch in the cafeteria with your dreadfully sexy husband and his mustache."

"Yes," you replied, trying to keep your laughter quiet. "Come join us. You can sit across from the mustache and look at it."

He groaned and tipped his head back. "I wish I could grow one." Then he was suddenly shoving you away from him, and you saw his boss coming as you hightailed it back to your lab. 

When you rushed in with a smile on your face, Cat met your gaze. No, you wouldn't let her ruin your day. "Good morning!" you called out to her and everyone else. Of course she barely acknowledged your existence, but it didn't matter. You would just keep your head down until it was time for lunch. You were already thinking about a veggie bowl with some hot sauce, and your stomach was growling. 

But you ended up getting absorbed in some coding that you'd been neglecting, so you decided to tackle that. You were surprised when you glanced up to find everyone else had already gone to lunch. The only person left was Cat, so you locked up your computer and left before she had a chance to say anything. You made it all the way to the elevator when you realized you forgot your ID badge. It had been tucked under your computer. 

You groaned and turned back to go get it. But you came skidding to a halt, your boots squeaking on the floor a bit when you heard Cat on the phone. 

"I'm at work, but I'll get there as soon as I can.... I didn't know he had a fever this morning or I wouldn't have dropped him off.... Yes, okay. I'll be there soon."

She ended the call and then burst into tears, and you couldn't decide what to do. Part of you wanted to sneak away quietly and hide in your office, but you just couldn't stop yourself from at least trying to help her. You walked into the lab and cleared your throat, and she whirled around in her seat, a look of steel on her face as she wiped at her tears. 

"What do you want, Lieutenant Commander?" Her words were harsh, but she still sounded vulnerable too, and you held your hands up in surrender. 

"Just checking to see if I can help you with anything. I'm not trying to give you a hard time."

She laughed sardonically and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm beyond help," she said, shaking her head. "But thanks."

"Cat, if you need something, just-"

"I need so many things," she said, cutting you off. But you let her, because you sensed she just needed to get this out of her system. Like last time. "But right this very moment, I need to figure out how to pick my son up from his cheap daycare center on the other side of Coronado." She started  to close her computer as she added, "They'll kick him out if I don't get him soon, because apparently I'm a terrible mom who dropped him off there with a fever this morning. And I don't even have my own car."

You doubted she was a terrible mom. A terrible mom wouldn't even care in the first place. "Take mine," you told her. 

She eyed you skeptically. "Take your what?"

"My car. It's pretty shitty, and you need to jiggle it into gear. I don't have a car seat, but Commander Estevez keeps one in her office downstairs."

She just blinked at you, her dark eyes as expressive as always. You never chose to focus on them this long. 

"My car keys are in my office," you added. "You coming?"

Cat licked her lips and whispered, "You'd let me borrow your car?"

You just shrugged. "You can keep it for the weekend. But honestly, when you see it, you might change your mind," you told her with a wince. 

Cat swiped the last few tears from her eyes. "I need to go see if Bickel will even let me leave. I don't have much time off yet."

"Just go," you told her. "I'll cover for you. It's Friday afternoon, and he probably won't even check in again."

"Thank you," she whispered before pressing her lips together and slipping off her stool. 

"Let's go get my keys and the car seat."

A few minutes later, Cat had your car keys in one hand and the borrowed car seat in the other. "I'm parked on level two near the stairwell. It's old and red. You can't miss it."

She nodded once and then took off toward the parking garage. After a few seconds, she turned back toward you and thanked you again. 

You'd missed most of your lunch break, and when you rushed into the cafeteria, you found Bradley and Cam sitting together. 

"Your wife sucks," Cam told him, pretending he didn't see you. "She invited me for lunch and then bailed." He stood with his empty tray and winked at you. "Better luck next week?" 

"Yeah," you said, out of breath. "I'm sorry. Monday? With Maria, too?"

"Yep," he agreed before he walked away.

"Did you have a nice lunch with my friend?" you asked, sliding down into the seat next to Bradley.

"Of course. He likes my mustache." Bradley kissed you and pushed some food toward you. "I got you a burrito bowl, but it's probably cold. Where were you?"

"I was... just taking care of something. Make sure you don't head home without me later. My car is gone."

He perked right up. Honestly, he looked happier right now than he had when he was fucking you this morning. "It's gone? Forever?" 

You rolled your eyes so hard as you dumped hot sauce on your food. "Someone is borrowing it for the weekend."

He kissed your cheek. "I'll be praying that they steal it or wreck it. Why don't we spend the weekend looking at new cars?"

"Because it's Hard Deck night, remember? And you're golfing tomorrow. And my car is perfectly good."

"Yeah," he muttered, kissing your cheek one last time. "We'll look at cars on Sunday." Then he was gone, heading back to the tarmac as you ate your lunch. 

Later that evening, when you and Bradley were walking Tramp before going out for the night, you checked your phone and saw a text from an unknown number. 

Thanks again for your help. I picked Jeremiah up, and now he's feeling much better.

Cat's son was named Jeremiah. You wondered what he looked like and how old he was. You wondered why Cat had him in some shitty daycare across town. You wondered if anyone else knew she had a child.

"You ready?" Bradley asked, holding out his hand for you to take. "It's getting late."

"Yeah. Let's go."

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

Do you feel some ice melting? Ugh, I'm afraid for BG without Bradley at home. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[dragonlands]

There's so much negativity around Izzy's death so I wanted to address some of the points I keep seeing thrown around.

"Izzy's death was pointless"

No, he just had his big speech about how basically they can kill him but they cannot kill the movement. That is a clear paraller to a lot of real life protestors of unjustice. He died protecting the community, he died so the community could go on.

"Izzy's death made his healing pointless"

No it didn't. Healing is always good, feeling happiness and belonging are ALWAYS worth it. We never know how long we've got, doesn't mean we gotta stop trying to be better or happier. His healing was still real. It still mattered.

"Izzy's character arc was left unfinished, it's bad writing"

Oh my god. If you open any writing guide about how to write impactful deaths, and the first thing that comes up is to leave some part of their arc unfinished. And his arc did go through quite a beautiful line, sure there could've been more but his story didn't end like, mid arc. As a writer, of course you want to make the audience sad when a character dies. It's good storytelling. Good stories are supposed to make us feel.

"Izzy died on the arms of his abuser"

Where the hell did this idea come from? Ed and Izzy have been in a toxic codependent relationship way before this show started. You could argue that Izzy was Ed's abuser, but that is not the argument I want to make here. Yes, we saw Ed driven to madness shoot Izzy on screen, but we know Izzy's the one that forced him to be Blackbeart when he didn't want it anymore. There's turmoil all around them. But the final moment is them finally meeting as people, not as components of Blackbeard.

"Izzy's death was unnecessarily awful"

His death was sad, yes, but it was quite beautiful as far as deaths go. He was surrounded by family who cared for him. He was loved, and accepted as he is. He knew his legacy will be carried on.

"They killed off the only character that showed us healing is never too late"

Did we watch the same show? That begins with then unhappy 40+ year old Stede deciding it's finally time to reach for his dreams? Where we see Blackbeard slowly gaining back his humanity? Where Black Pete starts off as toxically masculine dude but ends up in a soft gay marriage? Where most of the crew wanted to mutiny but then they realized being soft is good, actually. Jim's whole purpose in life being revenge but them learning to let that go and instead concentrate on love and fun and family. And so on. Izzy's arc is beautiful, but he's not the only person healing who thought it was too late already.

"Izzy's death was bury your gays trope"

No, what, no. In a pirate show where everyobody is queer some queer people will die. Bury your gays is about only having one or few queer characters and killing them off while the straights get their happily ever afters. This is so far from that.

Also, I want people to be aware of the phenomenon, where creators of diverse shows are subjected to more critism than those of non diverse shows. If this intrests you, Sarah Z on Youtube made a great video on it called Double standards and diverse media. Our flag means death has given us so much, queer love story with a happily ever after, finding community, nonbinary character. And the creators have always been so kind to fans, so let's show them tht kindness back. Because critizicing this one aspect can easily turn to seeming like the whole story is just unwanted. That stories like Ed and Stede's aren't worth telling. And I'm so aftraid that will happen, when just now for the first time in years we are finally getting queer stories.

Also, I understand people are sad. I am sad too - Izzy was an amazing character and his death was sad but that's just. Good writing. You can grieve, but trying to turn it into a moral or dramaturgy issue is just not a good look. And attacking the creators of this wonderful show is just horrible.

Remember - this fandom is a safe space ship 🏴‍☠️🏳️‍🌈

[ckret2]

Are THEY in universe considered as dreamy and handsome as apparently tumblr users find THEM? If yes, does that have anything to do with how THEY won THEIR elections

VENDOR doesn't strike me as the type of person who feels beautiful or attractive; so I doubt THEY've received much of that kind of attention.

To organics, it probably depends on how much the viewer likes the aesthetics of 1950s kitchen appliances with woodgrain. But they still see THEM like an appliance. So THEIR visual appeal generally caps out at "would buy THEM for the break room; wouldn't invite THEM to the bedroom."

To other machines... I'm going by what's frequently portrayed as attractive in transformers fandom: and unfortunately, THEY've got no real points of articulation; no interesting function-related kibble (no tires, no wings, no treads); very few lights at all; lots of unpainted components in a utilitarian way... Plus I feel like most robots wouldn't be into woodgrain, y'know? It's quirky, but "sticking a banana sticker to your forehead" quirky, not "stylishly avant-garde" quirky.

THEY're probably some people's type (THEY're apparently some tumblr users' type), but not many people's type.

I see THEM as like, equivalent to a middle-aged woman who wears just enough makeup to be considered "acceptable" but has never taken pleasure in the process, and has always worn serious business suits with skirts or button-up shirts with slacks in order to be taken seriously, and keeps trying diets that never stick and whenever she vents about this to her friends they awkwardly reassure her that dieting is hard and it's fine when really she's longing to hear someone say "but you already look great" and feel like they aren't just saying it to be nice; and now she's past her prettiest youthful years but has realized she's never been made to feel beautiful, never made herself feel beautiful, and she's a serious businesswoman so she tells herself that that's frivolous and she shouldn't care but she does care, and it's not shallow vanity to care, because all these years of not caring is a side-effect of viewing her body with an air of disdain and resentment for not being good enough and not being worth the effort to make it good enough; and so she buys a paisley shirt with bright green flowers that she thinks looks outrageous but actually really likes and hopes it will be the start of finally figuring out her style, and aside from the print it's still a respectful button up so surely it's professional enough to wear to work, and all her coworkers are like "wowww, that's... different" and she doesn't know if it's because the shirt's really that ugly on her or if they just aren't used to seeing her as the kind of person who can wear these shirts, when the truth is, they can just tell how deeply uncomfortable she is in this shirt, she doesn't know how to wear clothing she likes without being hyper self-conscious. She doesn't know how to make herself feel beautiful. But she wants to.

And that's why VENDOR got woodgrain paneling.

[fleshwerks]

Wait what's the tea on the whole Davrin and Assan situation? I feel like I missed something. Are there links?

It was a Reddit AMA for Veilguard, and it was something of a disaster.

disclaimer: i'm not just lily myself, i'm also not north american, so i'm an outsider fan looking in when it comes to this issue, which does have a heavy, if not dominant, racially charged component, but here's what seems to be the gist of it.

So. When the game first came out, some people noticed and discussed the character Davrin, right? And expressed either worry or frustration with how this Dalish black male elf seemed very interesting, but his whole deal seemed to be dominated by Assan getting in the way with cute dog stuff. Whenever players tried to pry threads on his feelings about the Dalish, and other things out of him, it always seemed like inevitably, all things lead back to Assan and Assan's cute baby pet shenanigans.

So then, when it was time to choose between Harding and Davrin, there were entire reddit threads on the main sub, as well as plenty of Tumblr and bsky content about how everybody chose Davrin to die... until Assan dived after him, and presumably died as well. And then these fans admitted that they instantly reloaded an older save, and chose Harding to die instead. Entire threads of ''oh no, not the dog!"

It hadn't quite reached the fever pitch yet, but then the AMA rolled around.

Now, BW has a bad history with regards to treating their black companions with much dignity. And Bioware fans in turn have a bad history with saying mealy-mouthed shit like "I don't hate them because they're black, I hate them because they cheated on my Shepard (Jacob Taylor)/they're boring (Liam Costa)/they're bootlicker bitch (Vivienne)". That, and having a cast that either all pass the paper bag test, or if BW's generous, have one (1) black person that ends up controversial with the fans due to poor writing choices, or because fandom forgives, idk, solas, more for being Like That than it forgives a black character for comparatively minor trespasses. Double standard.

There's also the trope 'black dude dies first'. And in this case, the 'first to die' choice came down to a black man new character, and a popular white girl from a previous game.

Then the reddit AMA took place, and Epler had this to say:

And the fandom imploded. Some righteously, for Epler outright stating it that Assan dominating Davrin's entire character and being the emotional anchor that'd give Davrin a shot of being chosen over Harding, and for failing to make Davrin stand out enough on his own to compete against Harding (debatable. When it wasn't Assan hour, Davrin was great. Total mensch.) Which is fucked up.

Another part of the fandom suddenly felt like Bioware played them for fools and made them do a racist thing by appealing to them with the cute baby griffon, acting like they somehow got manipulated and not, in fact, entirely catered to.

And now there's further discourse and reaction towards that part of fandom, which I think reveals both BW and the fandom as frankly still rotten and not having learned a goddamned thing since earlier games: Bioware included Assan, because they knew Assan would be wildly popular and that Assan would be what'd give Davrin a shot at being chosen, not Davrin himself... and it worked. And some people keep coping with how 'Davrin's death 'made sense for his arc!' and completely try to downplay the fact that most people saved Davrin because the damned flying dog was too cute to die. That pale fandom can't really wash their hands of it, because BW deliberately catered to them with Assan, and it worked exactly as intended.

Some even got mad at Bioware for making Assan die with Davrin, because fuck the black guy I guess, how dare they make his flying dog be loyal to him until death, it hurts my feelings!

It's a clusterfuck with fans blaming bioware, bioware blaming fans, fans blaming other fans, 'go woke go broke' dickheads still on their same bullshit fanning the flames and neither/none of them realising that 'that' part of fandom, and bioware, deserve each other and mirror one another perfectly.

It's the pits, chief. If you're interested in more, you can search the #davrin tag and sort by 'latest', many people there having their own take and eloquent criticism that further elaborates.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Everything Went a Bit Weird Allasudden

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

BL OLYMPICS! Week 2

I'll be passing out metals in various sporting events, as part of the weekly updates (through mid August) just for funzies.

Aug 2024 Week 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) eps 11-12fin - THE STAIRS ARE BACK and now they’re evil! Frank is truly great. He's out acting everyone else, but I'm just happy to see him pine. OK yes, the ending wasn’t awesome but I still really enjoyed this show. 

In conclusion: (deep breath)

This was a sports romance Thai BL pulp with everything I could have asked for given this sub genre. More, actually, since MeenPing are both great basketball players and the team component really did form part of the connective tissue of the show (vital in a sports romance). Meen has his shirt off within the first two minutes which is all I needed but he's still pretty great as the sullen secret keeper against Ping's cheerful survivor - childhood sweethearts torn asunder and now reunited. Then Frank sweeps in to give everyone a bad case of second lead syndrome. I always try to judge BL for what it is AS BL, and what it’s trying to do within its own territory and purview. This did exactly what it claimed on the tin: gay boys play b-ball and fall in love. That was all I wanted from it. Sure there was random kidnapping and a light bought of mass murder, but what’s a BL in 2024 without a touch of the mafia? You do you little pulp, I’m disposed to be pleased.

Thank you, Rebound, for being exactly what I wanted. Is this gonna be anybody else’s favorite BL of 2024? Probably not. But there is a real good chance it’ll be mine. Is it perfect? No. But for me, it got as close as a pulp can get, so I’m giving it 9/10.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 9 of 12 - Them being boyfriends is so damn adorable. Like PondPhuwin I think I could watch G4 just be boyfriends for 16 eps and not fuss about anything in life. They're my emotional support pair brand. Back to the show:

My goodness Atom is such a frenetic high strung babygirl. He is a near constant emotional pingpong.

Gold in Table Tennis

K is a teenage saint. The lights thing, and the hands to head (reminiscent of certain previous characters from this pair), all made me coo and laugh. 

However, this ep was mostly about the hets. It’s always funny to me when the gays have their shit figured out in a show but the hets are in chaos.

Also they're touted as "a teacher and a baker" but they're playing the gay dads of this narrative and I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. More gay dads in BL!

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 5 of 8 - I’m just gonna say it, because no one else is, this pair kisses like they’re in a Taiwanese BL. There’s no other way to put it except there’s a whole body genuine interest and enthusiasm to the way they do physicality that’s comparatively rare in Thai BL. This kind of on-screen sexual maturity is my favorite, especially in grown-up characters like these. The side couple = awesomesause. JJ is a very appealing character. He hates Methas, he likes him, he loathes him, and also... he definitely wants to see him naked. 

All praise aside? I have questions about why half the hair in this show is so absolutely ghastly. Like bad enough for Japan. Enough of that now, Thailand. Tut tut. Cut cut. Style style. Please & thank you?

Then again who cares when we get...

They already won silver last week, but I guess they're going for

Gold in Weightlifting

Century of Love (Weds Gaga) eps 7-8 of 10 - Well THAT is an interesting take on a Faen Fetale. As expected, a somewhat doomy ep 7. I did enjoy the doctor punching San tho.

Bronze in Boxing

Meanwhile, that camel jacket is a sin against all things, especially Daou. But I eventually got a crying kiss. I love a crying kiss best in the world. Next week looks good! But I miss my nine tailed fox nod. Will we get back to that or was it just a brief weird thing?

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 5 of 12 - It’s kinda great actually. The romance is the only bit that isn’t really hitting for me. Gun’s smile at the "oppa" is so adorable. His little dimples.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - I really do not like the pet name in this one. Khun Dad is too weird for me. But I do think their relationship is ridiculously cheesy and endearing in a terrible way. These two are the equivalent of that couple that always speaks in baby talk. It’s a good thing they’re pretty because they’re not so bright. Wait! No Christmas music in my BL! That's far too weird. 

Bronze in Diving

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 12 - I’m liking this a lot better now. It’s still a little slow for me but since the bullying has stopped relatively quickly I’m not as upset as I was. Also, look at those eyes, our P'Seme is IN LURV. That said, I’m not wild about the sudden suicide plot line. That feels... weird.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) - TutorYim are back and so far this is better than Middleman's Love - but that's not saying much. For a second there I thought they were going to open on the REAL blindfold scene from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. But then I remembered that that’s more Mame than anyone else. On a completely different note, I do like this pair. And I’m willing to give them ever more chances. That said this is very, I don’t know, weird? I’m not sure what is happening, and I’m confident that’s not my fault. I hope it makes sense eventually.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - Peak's dad is so completely frustrating and kind of psychotic. It’s annoying to watch. So I spent most of this episode upset. I'm glad he came around in the end but it was a lot, mostly unforgivable, from this side of the screen.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 8 of 10 - It's committing the greatest sin of all (in the realm of entertainment). It's mind numbingly dull. I'd sooner be offended than bored. Trash watch

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I don’t remember the camping trip from the manga, but I really enjoyed it in this series.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - The bit with the kid was cute but I’m still finding this rather slow and the central relationship unappealing. I think the balance of power has to shift for me to engage, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

It's airing but...

Bad Guy (Korea YT) - yeah, erm, no thank you.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - OMG a uni student who looks too young and a... COP. GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. Please SOMEONE pick this one up?

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me how it goes.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - it's your funeral (or, more likely, one of the main characters'). You can argue but... statistics. You know my feelings on this matter. MY BLOG, remember?

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!!

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming Up This Month!

8/6 Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) 8 eps - office romance around the makeup counter featuring a younger seme and sexual blackmail. I'm intrigued. DFTUJ (don't fuck this up, Japan).

8/8 Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) 12 eps - I am so DAMN excited to see Big finally lead a BL. I can't even with this, one of my most anticipated of this year. He's a great kisser ya'll, he's kissed a lot of boys as second lead. I can't WAIT.

8/12 First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) 12 eps - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan stars Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn tean. I can't wait. With thier powers combined!

8/13 Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues YT) - supposedly Jinlo with air this on their YT channel. Stars August (Love Sick) so I'm excited despite Jinlo's poor reputation. From the trailer it looks like it's following the original pretty closely just Thai style.

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

Addicted Heroin (Thailand adaptation) is also supposed to release this month. GIVE IT TOO MEEEEEE. I don't care about anything else but August back on my screen. It's been almost a decade since he did BL.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

This is the kind of jealousy I like to see. Boys getting pissed about the stupid stuff.

Also, more counter making out. I'm not complaining, but babies the bed is way more comfortable.

All from Long Beans.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

Sports in Play (the jokes write themselves)

Boxing

Breaking

(That's Not) Cricket

Diving (yes, for that)

Fencing (yes, with those)

Handball (exactly what it says, no, read the word.. again)

Rhythmic Gymnastics (obvs)

Squash (snicker)

Surfing

Swimming

Trampoline

Table Tennis

Weightlifting

Wrestling