#and i know that it's something i want to pursue

[syoddeye]

simon doesn't pursue people, he operates more like a one-man strike team. his approach to human connection is transactional, pragmatic, a matter of logistics.

on the rare occasion he's looking for company, he wants someone easy, who won't fuss when he introduces them to a thin motel mattress. won't ask what he does for work or try to make plans for the morning. won't bother him about 'next time'. nothing long-term. no strings.

he doesn't have a 'type' so much as a protocol: pick someone malleable, pliant, and preferably on the pill.

then you start working at his local.

the first time he sees you, he doesn't notice much beyond the basics: efficiency, attentiveness, pouring pints and bantering with the regulars with aplomb. by the second or third time, he's paying closer attention. you're not just good at your job—you're quick, always three steps ahead of the chaos. you give out smiles left and right, but it's more muscle memory than genuine warmth. and you're clever, too. funny, even, when someone manages to earn your attention for longer than a transaction.

you could probably keep up with his humor. go toe-to-toe.

you're off-limits, though. that's the rule. bartenders are switzerland—neutral territory. don't shit where you eat. it's a system that works, so long as he doesn't let himself think too much about the view when you lean over the counter or the lilt of your voice when you ask what he's having tonight.

then one evening, you take another man's number. some leering idiot, too comfortable with inserting himself into your space, grinning like he's cracked your code because you haven't humbled him. simon doesn't react, not outwardly. he nurses his drink and watches as you smile, slip the napkin into your pocket, and turn back to the bar.

but that's when you become a problem.

he tells himself it doesn't matter, that it's nothing. he doesn't want a number or a date. but the thought of someone else having you—someone who doesn't know what to do with a woman like you—it's a splinter buried just deep enough to keep him thinking about it. irritating, prone to fester.

how to approach you, though? he can't be as direct as he'd like, can't pin you down with a look or crass words. no way to corner you when you're safe behind the counter, or disappearing through a staff door. hanging around until you're off would be pathetic. dog behavior, he thinks, with a twinge of contempt for the mental image. he's got too much self-respect for that, at least.

no, he's got to actually make an effort. use his words.

the next time he comes in, he waits. no more corner tables or watching from afar. he sits close, pretends not to notice how your hands look slicing a lime. he orders his usual and tries not to overthink your tone when you set it down in front of him.

"you alright?"

you reach for his card, fingers pinching the plastic, but he holds on, smirking when you tug and then huff.

this is the moment. his moment. the one he's been building toward in his head for days. but there's a hitch, a blip in his usual confidence, and he fumbles. he blames your perfume.

"so…you come here often?"

not what he meant to say, but not the worst.

the shockwave of his nuclear-level failure doesn't register until your lips twitch, and it finally sinks in. his eyes widen a fraction as the realization lands. oh, he's fucked it. all his rehearsing, for nothing.

"…yeah," you say, voice flat, a single brow raised as you gesture vaguely toward the bar around you. "i work here?"

his mouth dries, but his face doesn't change. he doesn't fight it when you pull the card out of his grasp. there's the barest glint of something in your eyes—amusement, maybe, or pity. he's not sure which is worse.

you turn away to ring him up, but when you glance back, he's gone.

next

[pinkboaclub]

Professor Styles

Summery: Harry is your professor who also mentors you in the field you aspire to pursue. One night, while at his home, things go a little to far.

Words: 3k

Warnings: smut, teacher-student relationship (university-everyone is of age with no large age gap), alcohol consumption, fem!reader

“It asks us to ponder how we preserve the image of power, and what those images reveal about the societies that create them.” Professor Styles said, beginning to wrap up his lesson on Oliver Cromwell's death mask. “That’s all I have for you today.”

As everyone around you gathered their things and headed for the door, you took your time, collecting your supplies. You waited for a moment, knowing you needed to speak with Mr. Styles.

One of your male classmates was already engaged in conversation with him, asking a few last-minute questions before wishing him a good weekend and leaving the lecture hall. As the room emptied out, his eyes found yours, and he offered a small smile.

"Hi," you greeted him.

"Hello, Ms. Y/L/N," he replied, his tone warm and professional.

You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "I just wanted to confirm that we're still on for tonight."

"Of course," He said, his smile widening. "I have a feeling we'll get very far."

To anyone else, overhearing a student and their professor engaged in such a conversation might raise some red flags, but in this context, it was strictly professional.

"Definitely," you replied, nodding. "I've already completed most of the pigment analysis. I just need you to review the results tonight."

"Sounds perfect. I'll see you tonight, then."

"See you tonight," you said, before turning and walking out of the lecture hall, the door closing softly behind you.

You had been working to become an art restorer, specifically taking paintings and reconstructing and restoring them. When Professor Styles had overheard you telling another student this, he offered to be your mentor, as he was very familiar in the field. So, for the past three months, you would come over to his home every Friday, learning and practicing to restore paintings.

That night, you sat on his couch, grabbing some of your research from your tote bag as Professor Styles—or Harry, as he preferred you to call him outside of class—grabbed you a glass of water.

“So, we can go over your pigment analysis,” He places the glass of water in front of you. “Also, I have a gift for you.”

“Oh, a gift? I wish I had gotten you something.” He chuckled at your remark, walking to his book shelf and pulling two large paintings from a portfolio bag leaning against it.

He held one painting in each hand and turned them around to reveal them to you. They were two old, beat up paintings that had severe chipping and cracks all over them, but they were absolutely gorgeous. A gold mine for a aspiring art restorer:

“Wow,” you leaned in closer as he walked toward you to give you a better look. “These are beautiful, what are they? Where did you get them?”

“Won them at an auction, someone’s great grandfather’s old painting, I thought they’d be perfect to practice on.” You had previously only worked on paintings you found at thrift stores, and that was before Harry even began mentoring you.

“They’re perfect, thank you, Harry.” You looked up at him, giving him a smile.

“Of course.” He returned the smile, a soft, appreciative look in his eyes. “Those are going to take a couple weeks to finish, but it will teach you a lot. Let’s go over what you have first.”

He placed the paintings back in their portfolio bag and sat beside you on the couch. As he rolled up his sleeve, you couldn’t help but notice the muscular forearms that were now on full display. The slight brush of his skin against yours every time he leaned in made your stomach flutter, and you quickly tried to focus on the task in front of you to keep your composure.

It would be a lie if you said you had never noticed Harry in a way that went beyond a professor or mentor. He was undeniably handsome—tall, charismatic, with a presence that filled the room. It had become harder to focus on anything but him, especially since you’d started talking more outside of your shared passion for art history.

After a random comment about his bookshelf one night, the two of you had ended up spending the rest of the night talking about music, literature, and sharing recommendations. Those conversations had brought you closer—far closer than you had anticipated—and, if you were being honest, had only made your feelings for him grow.

But you tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"Let’s see what you’ve got," he said. You gathered the stack of research papers you’d compiled over the week from the coffee table and handed them to him. He had tasked you with studying the chemical compositions of paint from various historical periods. "This is great," he remarked, flipping through the pages. "This will also be incredibly useful for restoring those paintings." He said, pointing towards the paintings he just showed you. You took a sip from the glass of water he'd offered, the coolness easing the subtle nerves you felt around him.

The night continued with you two talking about your research, where to go from here, and the paintings he had given you.

As your conversation went on, it started to diverge from art. You now sat comfortably with a glass of red wine he had offered you, him sitting across from you, doing the same. The topics were easy and light until Harry shifted the conversation.

“So, how are things going in your other classes?” he asked, genuinely curious, his gaze focused on you with an intensity that made you pause.

You shrugged, the words coming out a little more candidly than you intended. “Pretty good. They can be hard to focus on sometimes.”

“Hard to focus?” Harry echoed, his eyebrows lifting slightly. “How so?”

You chuckled softly, the honesty feeling strangely liberating. “Mm, it’s just...not as interesting,” you admitted, almost laughing at the thought of telling one of your professors that your other classes sucked, though the red wine helped with that.

Harry didn’t seem offended or put off by your answer—in fact, he seemed more intrigued. “They’re still art classes, right? You don’t enjoy them?”

“I do. I definitely do,” you reassured him. “But, your class is definitely the best. I feel like it’s the only one where I’m actually moving toward my goal of becoming an art restorer.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing on his lips as if he was flattered. “I get it. It’s hard when you’re taking a bunch of classes, and only one of them really feels like it’s leading you somewhere you want to go.”

You exhaled, relieved he didn’t think you were simply disinterested in your studies. “Yeah, exactly. I feel like the rest of them are just kind of...a filler.”

“Well,” he said, leaning back on the couch, “even the ones that don’t seem directly related to your goals still help build the foundation for what you want to do. You might not see it now, but everything connects in its own way.” He looked deeply into your eyes, making you nervous.

“I know,” you agreed, taking a small sip of wine to give you a moment to collect your thoughts. “I know, it’s just hard sometimes when I can’t see the bigger picture.”

Harry met your eyes with an understanding that made you feel like he genuinely saw you, not just as a student, but as someone working hard toward a future they were passionate about. “It’s okay to feel that way,” he said softly. “It’s part of the process. But it will all click, eventually.”

You felt a quiet connection in his words, the kind that seemed to resonate deeper than just the academic advice he'd offered. You hadn’t realized how much his reassurance meant to you until that moment. The wine made everything feel softer, and for a brief second, you let your guard down, your gaze lingering on his face.

Harry smiled gently, and there was a warmth in his expression that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t quite expected. The conversation drifted back to more casual matters, but there was a new undercurrent to the air—an unspoken understanding between the two of you that made everything feel a little more…charged.

As the evening went on, the distance between the two of you seemed to shrink. Harry, though still maintaining his professional demeanor, seemed more at ease. You found yourself laughing more freely, your nerves slowly melting away. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, how his voice softened when he spoke to you, it was all so comforting. You couldn't help but wonder if, just maybe, he felt some of the same magnetic pull you did.

At one point, you found yourself leaning a little closer to the table, showing him a particular section of your research. You didn’t mean to move so near, but the way you both reached for the papers at the same time brought your hands dangerously close. His fingers brushed against yours, and for a second, neither of you moved. It felt like time had stopped, like the world outside the house had disappeared.

His gaze flicked from your hand to your eyes, and you just looked at each other. His expression softened, the playful edge of the conversation shifted into something quieter, something more intimate.

"Ms. Y/N," he murmured, voice low, "you really are talented. I mean it." His voice was sincere, and the way he said your name made your heart beat quicker.

You swallowed, a little nervous but not wanting to back away from the moment. "Thank you, Harry. It means a lot coming from you." Your breath felt heavier as your heart raced and the intensity of his gaze made it hard to look away.

He hesitated for a second before his gaze dropped to your lips and you immediately felt a shift in the air. It was sudden and unexpected, yet somehow felt right. When he leaned into you, you couldn’t help but do the same, instinctively closing the space between you.

Then, before either of you could second-guess it, his lips brushed yours. It was quick, gentle and soft. For a moment you almost forget where you were, until you both pulled away.

You blinked, heart thudding loudly in your chest as you met his eyes, unsure of what to say, unsure of what had just happened. Harry looked just as surprised, his breath was heavy, though his expression was kind, almost apologetic. "I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—"

"No," you cut him off, feeling a surge of warmth rush to your face. "It’s okay. I...I don’t know what that was." You stayed silent for a moment, though it felt like hours.

You both leaned in again, your lips colliding, faster and harder than the first. Though, this time, you didn’t stop. His hand went to your hip, pulling you closer to him as one of your hands went to his face and the other to his shoulder.

You both slowly leaned back, laying yourself on the couch as he hovered over you. He soon helped you out of your sweater, quickly pulling away from your lips, but immediately finding them again once your sweater was gone. His hands roamed your body as both of you got lost in each other.

Harry pulled away again, an almost shocked expression on his face.

“Is this okay? I’ll stop right now if you want me too, we can pretend this never happened, it won’t affect anyt-“ he hastily asked, but before he could continue, you kissed him again, giving him his answer. You definitely wanted this.

You tugged at his shirt, telling him to take it off, to which he complied. He begins to kiss down your shoulders before unbuttoning your pants.

“Professor,” you pulled him back up to your lips. You, your body, needed to skip the foreplay and get right to it, you were desperate for him. “I want you, now.” You said in between kisses.

He nodded his head, understanding what you were saying. He helped you out of your jeans and underwear before you helped him out of his.

His hand travels down, making sure you were prepped enough before he started. There was no question, you were sure you had never been this wet before. His hand traveled to your clit and began rubbing it.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He admired your body before running his cock up and down your slick folds.

“Mm, Professor.” You moaned out with your eyes closed, taking in the very little pleasure he was giving you.

“Harry, baby,” He corrected you. “M’not sure how many times I’m going to have to remind you, darling.”

You smiled and nodded, but to be honest, you couldn’t think of anything else other than him pushing inside you as quickly as possible. When he finally did, you hadn’t realized how big he was, but had to get adjusted quickly.

"Can I move?" He asked as he pecked the corner of your mouth. You quickly nodded and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. He kissed you again as he pulled out, leaving just the head inside before thrusting back in. You kissed each other as Harry rocked his hips into you, quickly slipping into a steady pace. He reached down to circle your clit as he kissed your neck and you gasped at the sensation.

Your moans felt like they never stopped as both or your body’s thrusted, being motivated by the built up sexual tension. His pace quickened, causing you to be louder, incoherently moaning and whimpering, which he loved. He looked down at you, taking in the pleasure you got from his cock.

“You’re so perfect, taking my cock so well.” He grabbed one of your legs, holding the back of your knee to get an angle where he could repeatedly hit your g-spot. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about this? How long have I had to watch you in class, pushing down any thoughts of doing exactly what I’m doing right now?”

You moaned out, acknowledging his confession. Every memory you had in his class came rushing back, every time you accidentally made eye contact, was he thinking abou fucking you then? When you purposely wore a skimpy outfit, did he notice?

As you felt your stomach tighten, your moans called out his name repeatedly. “I’m gonna cum soon Ha-” Before you could finish, speaking and cumming, he pulled out of you and looked back into your eyes.

“Need to see you ride me, is that okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You cried out, climbing on to straddle him. You both moved quickly, eager to please each other.

You lined yourself up with his cock, slowly lowering yourself onto him. His hands tightly hold your hips to keep you steady. You start moving up and down, your hands holding yourself up on his shoulders.

Harry watches you in awe, fascinated by your body moving up and down him, your breasts bouncing up and down, your back slightly arched, and your hair beautifully swaying around. Fascinated at how you still look angelic during such unholy activities. You moved your hips faster, looking down to see Harry appear and disappear inside of you.

Your mouth falls open as his cock hits your g-spot with every thrust and his hand moves to rub your clit. Your bounces started to become sloppy as your legs became weak, both from the repetitive movement and the pleasure.

Harry wrapped one of his hands behind your back, pushing you closer to his chest and letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Shh, I’ve got you, let me make you come.” He shifted his hips, gaining a better position before thrusting up into you.

“Fuck, Harry.” You grunted as his hips slammed into you, but his protective arm still held your back in place.

“I know, I know,” he turned his head towards your ear, holding his lips to it. “Let yourself cum, I wanna feel you squeeze my cock, darling.”

His sultry voice whispering in your ear was enough to send you over the edge.Your cunt pulsed around Harry as your climax hit you, sending him spiraling over the edge as well. You collapsed on top of him, your full body weight leaning into him and your head resting on his shoulder.

You both sat there, bodies sweating, chests rising up and down, saying nothing. You had almost forgotten where you were but, how could you? You were in your professor’s arms, sitting on his cock, coming down from an orgasm.

The words rang in your head again…until you lifted your head up, avoiding eye contact with Harry, despite his eyes trying to find yours. What if he hated you after this? What if this was the end of your relationship with him?

You lifted yourself up, slowly looking for your clothes. Harry, with a worried look on his face, did the same. Both of you put your clothes on, still saying nothing.

“I’m sorr-“

“That was very unprofe-“

You both spoke at the same time, then stayed silent.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line. That was very unprofessional of me.” Harry spoke up, both of you finally locking eyes.

“It’s okay.” You whispered. “Uhm…I should go, though.” You grabbed your papers and your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and heading to the door.

Harry walked behind you, holding the door open, watching you begin to walk away.

“I am sorry, Y/N.” You turned back, not knowing what to say. You weren’t mad at him, at all. You were mad at yourself.

“See you on Monday, Mr. Styles.”

[uncle-fruity]

I appreciate everything OP said here, and so much of it rings true. And while we're on this topic, I wanna bring up something I've been mulling over that I think is related.

We have got to stop thinking of marginalized people as a monolith -- even when that homogenized version in our heads is mostly positive. What I mean is that not every trans person is a good person. Just like not every cis person is a bad person. There will be trans people who are uninformed, willfully ignorant, rude, mean, abusive, manipulative, misogynistic, hypocritical, and honestly pretty bad allies to anyone who they don't understand or don't like or who challenges their worldview. There will be cis people who are extremely well-read on the issues, understanding, supportive, encouraging, open-minded, willing to listen & learn, kind, respectful, dedicated transfeminists, and honestly some of the best allies you'll ever have.

There is this sort of underlying assumption that trans people will always understand each other better than anyone else, that we are safer with our own, but that's not always the case. It is fair to assume that trans people are more likely to connect with and understand each other, but it is (clearly, as demonstrated) not guaranteed.

That's because we are humans! Humans are messy, complex, often hypocritical, nuanced beings. We all have different experiences, surroundings, relationships, beliefs, and priorities that make us who we are. Gender is just one facet of the many many things that come together to make us wholly human. Being trans doesn't make you a good person; it makes you trans. And while being trans may give you valuable insight on gender dynamics and trans oppression via direct exposure, it does not automatically make you a scholar or expert on all trans experiences or the historical context that feminism & transfeminism is built on. That kind of information must be actively pursued if you want a fuller picture.

This is why I've been going off about critical thinking so much -- because if you aren't being critical about this, it gets very very easy to fall into a reactive and/or bigoted and/or narrow mindset, and that can be genuinely harmful to yourself and others if you're not careful. Especially on Tumblr, where someone could very easily misrepresent their identity to stir up shit and push transphobic rhetoric behind the mask of an assumed ally. Thinking critically is a vital tool to help us avoid being manipulated by a false or disingenuous narrative.

When we say, "Listen to trans people," we mean that you need to pay attention to a wide variety of trans people and what we're talking about -- because we will and do agree AND disagree with each other on a number of issues all the time. But the more of us you listen to and consider, the more likely you are to see patterns of oppression and common trans experiences that will broaden your worldview and help you make a better informed decision about what to believe or what to look further into or how to spot common anti-trans sentiments/dogwhistles. "Listen to trans people" is not followed by the secret phrase, "and thoughtlessly accept everything they say about trans issues." Anyone who demands that you agree with them without room for question or comment or criticism is trying to control the narrative. Even if there is good reason to believe someone knows their shit, it never hurts to dig deeper into the worldview someone is trying to get you to internalize before you do so.

So, with that in mind, I encourage everyone to really take stock of their priorities & values within activism and judge people on their actual behaviors & impact & quality of information they present, NOT just their stated identities. If something a fellow activist said feels uncomfortable or rubs up against your values, it's okay to examine that feeling and ask questions to figure out what's at the root of it. The trans women who act the way OP described are not representative of all trans women, nor are they necessarily our allies. The same goes for misogynistic & transmisogynistic trans men. Or trans people of any sort who subscribe to any flavor of gender/bioessentalist ideology. That isn't to say that we don't fight for their rights or support them when they fall victim to systemic violence or ignore their issues or give up on trying to educate & elevate where we can -- we are still fighting the patriarchy for everyone's benefit. But, critically, we also don't have to accept hateful rhetoric into our communities and theories just because the fuckos spouting it off are trans.

honestly, as a trans woman who's running a fairly 'popular' or whatever queer blog, i've noticed so much shit in the past 2 years and i'm just gonna lay it out for y'all. it's a new year. it's 2025. i do NOT wanna carry any more of this bullshit forward. i'm calling everything for what it is. if this pisses you off, unfollow or block and move on.

as someone else put it in the tags on one of my other posts:

i am sick and tired of not talking about extremely important queer conversation topics for the sake of "keeping the peace".

this is not giving trans women and transfemmes a better quality of life to attack literally every every and all trans men for being trans men. it's making people fucking scared shitless of us. i hope people realize this isn't helping improve the opinion other people have on trans women and transfemmes. it's making people absolutely fucking terrified to even exist around us, because we've gotten to the point where we're attacking literally everyone and anyone who says something we don't like. people are fucking terrified of talking around transfemmes and trans women and it's time we broke the silence on that.

other transfemmes and trans women: do you seriously, really want other trans people to be scared to death of you? do you really want other trans people to be absolutely fucking terrified to speak around you because they're scared of getting fucking yelled at? do you really want other trans people to be utterly terrified to speak up about their own trans issues for fear of being told they hate you? do you really want other people around you to feel utterly terrified to talk about anything queer related at all for fear of being corrected, looked down upon, or verbally harassed?

i am just completely done with this environment we've fostered where basically everyone is on pins and goddamn needles holding themselves back from having real, genuine, impactful, substantial conversations about gender because they're absolutely scared shitless of being called transmisogynistic and publicly cancelled and harassed at all times for saying something as simple as "trans men don't have it easy" or talking about how AFAB people can also be trans. it really does not take much at all to set people off on this website and start accusing people of being transmisogynists left right and center.

i'm not participating in this weird mind game anymore. i do not like how this is being used to control the narrative on transness and trans experiences.

i am done with having to walk on eggshells in every. single. conversation. we have about gender.

i am done with acting like talking about transmasculinity and transmanhood is somehow magically attacking and silencing trans women and transfemmes.

i am done with people having to tack on massive disclaimers saying that they're not attacking trans women and transfemmes just for talking about their experiences on just about every post people write about gender.

i feel like every conversation about gender on here has to be so fucking sterile and calculated and meticulously planned out and stripped of most of its contents in order to not immediately get slammed with a "oh so you hate trans women" or a "oh so you're transmisogynstic." it's fine to point out genuine transmisogyny, i'm not gonna say you have to put up with it when it's real, but can we acknowledge that people are leveraging the fear other people have of being called transmisogynistic to shut people up?

at this point it's being used as a scare tactic and i'm so over it. i loathe how accusing people of being transmisogynistic is a default insult. trans men can't make a post about transmasculinity without someone getting pissed off and calling them transmisogynistic. trans men can't talk about a goddamn thing without being told to shut up, for some reason? why is this happening? like literally why are you doing this? trans men can't talk about ANYTHING at this point. like they needed to be able to coin words for the specific types of oppression they face so they could talk about it, and instead they just get fucking yelled at and told they're being copycats and that the violence they faced wasn't real? what the actual hell is this accomplishing?

why are we acting like we own oppression and no one else can even come close to understanding what its like? come on now, we don't own the goddamn concept of oppression. we also don't own transness. i am sick to death of this idea that transfemininity and trans womanhood are the only "real" ways to be trans. we do not own the concept of transness. it's not just about us. "trans rights" applies to more than just us. it can't be about us all the time. WE are the ones being self centered right now. WE are the ones who are forcing the conversation to be about us in situations where it's completely and totally inappropriate.

we need to say it for what it is: we're fostering an environment where, at this point, only trans women and transfemmes are allowed to talk about anything queer related at this point. like can we call it for what it is? for some reason, trans men and transmascs aren't allowed to talk about trans manhood or transmasculinity at all. ever. they're not allowed to say a fucking peep. they have to shut up and listen to a trans woman explain it to them, because for some reason, the trans woman knows trans manhood better than the trans man. this is out of fucking control, we should not have trans women explaining trans manhood to other people unless they are also a trans man. this is just unacceptable. transfems attack transmascs who speak for transfems, and yet this is seen as good and the norm?

you are not cool if you hate trans men and misgender them on purpose. this isn't feminist. this isn't progressive. you're not getting back at the patriarchy- most trans men do not benefit from patriarchy and never will- you would understand this if you listened to them. instead of talking over and for trans men, and listening to people who talk over and for trans men, if you listened to trans men, the source, you'd understand that no, transmasculine lives are NOT easy and no, trans men do not instantly benefit from patriarchal society if at all, ever. if you listened you'd understand that T doesn't make people aggressive and hostile and evil. if you listened you'd understand that there are a lot of wonderful, loving trans men out there are who are not transmisogynistic just by virtue of existing.

nobody is saying that we want to you prioritize men over trans women when we talk about trans men's rights. we're not saying that we need to talk about men all the time and never talk about women, and that men are the only ones allowed to talk, now. we really have to let multiple people participate in conversations. we can't keep doing this thing where One Gender Has To Be Superior Over another. that's gender essentialism. why must you keep yourself trapped inside the binary like that? why are you so desperate to stay stuck inside of the machine that's trying to destroy you?

challenging someone else's transphobia is not being transphobic. challenging someone else's behavior is not hating them or their gender. criticism is not an attack on trans womanhood and transfemininity. transfemmes are trans women are not immune to criticism and we need to stop acting like we are. we're not. we've created an echo chamber where only trans women and transfemmes are allowed to talk right now and it's not transmisogynistic to point that out, because it's literally happening before our eyes.

if we're demanding that other people treat us better, why are we treating other people like shit in the process to get it?

stop silencing other people talking about other trans experiences. transfemininity and trans womanhood are not the only ways to be trans. stop forcing yourself into conversations you don't belong in. if you don't want trans men do that, don't do it as a trans woman. don't barge into conversations you have literally 0 stock in just to be rude and mean and make the conversation about trans women instead. let other people talk. this has gone on for way too long.

let. other. trans. people. talk. we shouldn't have let it get this bad. but i'm not letting it stay this bad. if you want to accuse people having genuine conversations about transness of being transmisogynistic just because they're not a trans woman, then feel free, i'm not gonna stop you, but i'm not listening to you. i don't care anymore. i'm sick to death of not being able to have REAL conversations on here because some people don't like being reminded that they are not the only people who suffer under cisheteronormative patriarchy. if you can't accept that you are not the only one who suffers under patriarchy and that men need to be liberated from patriarchy as well, then i'm not interested in having a conversation with you to begin with.

seriously, if any of this bothers you, please just block me. i'm not participating in these dumb ass little mind games anymore. i do not give a singular shit about offending people who think this behavior is okay. i spent way too long being afraid to speak up about real world issues because of shitty internet trolls. i don't give a fuck if someone you don't like speaking about their experiences hurts your feelings- you are the problem here.

this is affecting real people in real time and i care about that. i care about people, not stupid ideologies and fighting over who is or isn't "really trans". i care about people, not fighting over labels. open your mind and understand that is is about real ass people, and not just ideologies. trans men and mascs are real ass people. they're not antagonists made specifically to attack and piss off transfemmes and trans women. enough of this.

[rednite-dork]

I'm back from the dead!

I had a rough end of the year - I finally graduated, we adopted a new cat and we moved back to my home town, so I held a small hiatus to gather up my strength lmao. But I saw this OTP meme floating around a few months ago and I wanted to do my own version of Sebastian and my MC!

More yapping about them below vvv

I had this laying on my files for a long while actually, but I was struggling with a song that I would put as a "theme song" - I usually don't practice those w my ships lol - but I heard Hozier's version of Do I Wanna Know a while ago and idk it really gave the vibe I was looking for them 🥰

I basically have two endings for them, one that's "fanon" where I can play sandbox with them and they'll have a happily ever after, and the "canon" ending that'll follow the upcoming games' lore (assuming the next games are direct sequels) - honestly I'm a sucker for the idea of them yearning for each other but unable to be together, and I can just imagine Seb possibly yearning for MC after the HL events and going to the HL sequel, he misses her and their little adventures and he kind of starts to romanticize things in his head and starts to have feelings for her - but him being too late to pursue her 🥲 and I feel like the theme song really captures the vibe of that idea!! can't wait to explore this more lmao

I also did some "graphology" specifically for this OTP meme, cause I like the idea of their personalities and quirks showing up from their handwriting, and here's what I have about them! I dunno if it's accurate or not, but hey, it's something, hope you like it anyways!

[kiddotarot]

What kind of love meant to find you in this life ?

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

( we are all meant to find some kind of love in our life but love is not always not the same for everyone . Its always a way we learn something in our life and go for the ultimate self . Remember you are here to learn and grow so don't afraid to love someone and yourself)

PILE 1.

The love which is meant to find you is frivolity and cunning but not immature. It is something unexpected and feels like imposter To you in this life. Actually you know it from the deep down from your heart it makes you feel like a child but that familiarity is old. It may be an old love from past life or a connection which comes back in your life and be an endgame for you . But it has a level of maturity connected to your soul which has already passed childhood and become mature . you going to recognize it by your heart and soul but its still make you feel new adventurous something like you behave like a child when “you are comfortable with a person and they know you so take it easy the not going to judge you be fearless “. The practicality doesn't matter in this love. There is no leadership Role more like two innocent children totally in love and feeling like the high school sweetheart . It's going to be a total endgame for you. I see major transformation and starting a totally new life after leaving old once behind. But for now you need to focus on your current task and master it and you are not enjoying you work or job which is important to you to find or master your hobbies or life lessons which you need to learn and understand.

PILE 2.

The love which you are meant to find in this life can be a way to release your karmic or you are here to learn something in this lifetime through this love. Love can be a mystery for which makes you feel confused and there is not a good condition of feminine energy in this connection that may be less nurturing or trust. You are advised here to not become superstitious here and there is also a lack of planning or a figure which takes control of an unconventional type of love. But the tower reserved here tells me that you are going to learn freedom of body , emotionally and physically or in this life through this love with great cost. The devil in the last shows may be you understand that you are stuck in a love which is totally based on materialism or lust and now it's a sensational separation from understanding. i feel maybe you are in this relationship now or currently going through same situation it's a sign for you to understand that you need to leave things or relationship, connection behind who's don't have love or respect for you.

PILE 3.

The love which is meant for you in this lifetime comes after a hard time emotionally or mentally and you now are in great great grief and after that you meet the love of your life it's a new relationship or proposal for you a new Connection. And the type of love in which you are going to build your own world, you literally are going to manifest your new life with it may be marriage or a new beginning. The connection which means to find you or the love which is destined for you is going to develop a creativity inside you . Love is going to be a solid rock for you, you are going to become wise and very practical. Maybe you become more mature after it. This love connection is very inspiring. Maybe you pursue your studies or something which you want to do in your life and you start to turn your vision into reality. It's also something related to manifestation. You may try to manifest it now … go check you list. For now I see you are stuck because your wishes are not coming true or you are stuck somewhere in your life or having health problems currently because universe is testing you don't worry.

[leia-writes]

hi! i had a dream about this recently and was wondering if it would be anything you'd be interested in writing :)

it starts off with the reader and in-ho going through a really rough break up but they still have feelings for each other. right before the s2 games started, in-ho went to a bar and saw reader there and her job is to perform live music, so she sings about in-ho and their breakup, not realizing that he was actually there

Maybe You'll Be There

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: maybe you'll be there by etta jones

note: thank you so much for your request!!

warnings: angst

“Get out.”

You glared through teary eyes at In-ho, who was standing in the middle of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. He sighed and dropped his arms in frustration, a few petals and leaves falling to the floor.

“I said I was sorry. I really am.”

“How many times have I heard that? You’re a broken record at this point.” You turned away from him and began cleaning up your kitchen. It took everything in your power not to break down crying right then, but you were just so tired of doing this with him. 

“I know. I messed up again. I’m sorry. Please.”

You sighed, dropping a glass into the sink. It clattered noisily as you turned towards In-ho. “Please what? Please forgive you for the thousandth time? Please forget how you ignore me whenever something important happens for me? Please let you play with my emotions?”

He stood there silently, trying to mask the shame spreading across his face.

“Which one, In-ho?”

He clenched his jaw, looking away from you. He still wouldn’t say anything. With every passing second he was silent you could feel your heart breaking even more.

You scoffed. “That’s what I thought. Get out.”

He gave you one last look, tears starting to form in his eyes. You’d never seen him cry, never even close to it. You wanted so badly to run to him, but you had to be strong this time.

You watched him as he set your flowers down on the table and walked to your door. He looked at you once again. For a brief moment you hoped he would say something, anything to make it right again.

Instead, he left, closing the door behind him.

~~~

You cried in bed that entire night. It was supposed to be a good day - you had just performed a full-blown concert all by yourself for the first time ever. Even though you worked for a very dark and secretive organization, you always made it a priority to pursue your passion for music. As time went on, you started gaining a reputation for being an outstanding jazz singer, and you found yourself wanting to move on from your high-stress job and live a more normal life.

After winning the squid games you participated in a couple years earlier, you soon found yourself working for the same organization alongside In-ho. Despite his cold exterior, you got along well. You had been dating almost a year before you started running into problems.

In-ho worked as the Front Man for a while before you joined him. You had only been working with him for a couple years, and you didn’t really have the same connection to that place like In-ho had. You both went through something extremely traumatic by playing and winning the games, but it seemed to bond In-ho to that place when you couldn’t care less. In-ho seemed constantly tormented by his decisions, as if he didn’t want to be there but couldn’t help himself.

As you started becoming more popular, you didn’t feel the need to work for them anymore. You wanted to leave many times, but In-ho always convinced you to stay. He promised over and over that you two could make it work, splitting time between the island and your apartment. And he promised he’d be at every one of your performances.

A promise he was never able to keep.

There were so many nights like that night, where In-ho would show up late in the evening, well after your performance, begging for forgiveness and promising to be better. You’d cry in front of him, break his heart a little, fall for his sweet words, and then make up as if nothing happened. Then you’d have another upcoming performance that always happened to conflict with work, and fight endlessly about how you navigate your relationship. Repeating the same vicious cycle over and over.

You couldn’t stand to keep breaking your heart like this. The love you felt for him was undeniable, something you felt you’d never get over, but the pain was just too much. Tonight was your final straw.

The next day, you finally quit your job and started your new life.

~~~

In-ho waited outside the lounge, the cold, night air whipping across his face. His hands were awkwardly stuck in his pockets as he scanned the people around him, looking for her. He was reluctantly waiting to meet someone on a blind date, set up for him by an acquaintance.

He didn’t want to be there at all, but figured he needed to start putting himself out there. Or at least that’s what everyone else was trying to convince him to do. After looking around for another brief moment, he spotted her approaching him.

She was beautiful. But she wasn’t you.

Ever since your painful breakup, he was tormented by thoughts of you. He couldn’t help but remember you in the little things around him, even now a year later. It was a constant reminder of his failings, how he ruined one of the only things that was good for him and made him truly happy.

He knew he was pushing you away the more you wanted to quit. He knew he was hurting you every time he missed a performance, ignored a call, prioritized anything else over you. He knew you’d be better off without him and his baggage.

In fact, it seemed true. Ever since you had finally broken up, he saw you rise to a whole new level of fame. You were constantly putting on performances and releasing new music. He tried his best to ignore any news he heard about you, but in moments of weakness couldn’t help but look you up and try to get a glimpse into your new life.

She approached him with a smile and they entered the lounge together, sitting at a small, intimate table for two. The atmosphere couldn’t have been any more romantic - warm, low lights, candles and a rose on the table, drinks and conversation flowing with ease around them. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt, as if he was doing something wrong.

A waiter approached the table and took their drink order. Upon returning, he excitedly pointed to the currently empty stage.

“Are you here to see the show?”

They looked blankly at the waiter, and she asked who was performing. In-ho felt his blood run cold when he heard the waiter say your name.

You.

You were performing at the lounge tonight. 

He gave a polite smile as he internally screamed. “Oh, we’re just staying for a drink, so we’ll probably miss it, won't we?” He glanced at his date.

She scoffed. “What? Of course not, we can’t miss this! I didn’t even know she was playing tonight.”

The waiter smiled. “It’s a special one-night performance, just for us. This is where she had one of her first solo performances!”

The waiter and In-ho’s date chatted briefly as In-ho tuned out all the noise around him. The one night he tried to get you off his mind, he found his way into the one place in the entire city you’d be. He felt his heart rate quicken and his head start to spin.

Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts. “Are you a fan too? You seem the type,” his date asked.

He snapped out of it. “Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Yes, I am.”

She smiled. “Great! We can’t wait.”

The waiter smiled and left. In-ho and his date casually sipped their drinks while making small talk. His eyes would dart wildly near the stage, anticipating when you’d appear on stage, wondering if you’d be visible nearby. 

“Are you alright?”

In-ho brought his attention back to his date, who had a concerned look on her face. He smiled. “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Uh… just a bit nervous, I guess.”

She smiled and sighed, relieved. “Oh god, me too. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He laughed softly, but couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable feeling he had inside. He looked around, noticing how busy the place was getting as your performance was about to start. 

“Want another drink before the show starts?” he asked. The waiters were incredibly busy, and he needed an excuse to step away.

“Sure. Just the same. Thanks.”

He quickly got up and walked to the bar. It was filled with people getting their last minute orders in, but he took his time getting the attention of the bartender. Anything to delay having to go back to the table and put on a facade. How was he supposed to act once you began performing?

As he was waiting for the drinks, you arrived on stage. The entire place erupted with applause. In-ho wanted it all to not be real, just a dream he could wake up from at any moment. He wanted to look away from you, to keep his focus on the drinks he was supposed to be getting, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning to you.

It was as if all the air in his chest escaped at once. You were standing at the microphone looking like an angel. The lights had dimmed in the room, with a single spotlight illuminating your face. You scanned the room with a soft smile on your face.

“Wow. Thank you all for coming. I’ve never seen this place so packed!”

A quiet laughter sounded from the audience as you continued. “As some of you may know, this is the spot where I had my very first solo performance ever, almost a year ago now. I have so many memories in this place. Some good, some bad, but… that’s life, isn’t it?” 

You paused to take a deep breath. “Tonight I’ll be singing some of your favorites, some I even performed here that first night. And I even have a new special song I’ll be performing at the end for you. I hope you enjoy.” You smiled as the band started, the crowd applauding again.

In-ho stood still, frozen at the bar as you began singing. He immediately recognized your first song, remembering so vividly even now how you practiced it and played it for him over and over. He didn’t even notice when the bartender gave him his drinks.

Instead, he stayed there almost your entire concert, completely mesmerized by you. With the songs he recognized, it was like watching his memories in a movie in front of him, as if he was experiencing those feelings again just like before. And with your new songs, it was like getting to know someone he’d never met. He saw the parts of your life he had completely missed. It created a deep sense of loneliness and longing in his heart.

Before your last song, he finally became aware of himself and brought the drinks to his table. His date looked surprised.

“Oh. I thought you ditched me.” She scowled.

In-ho gave her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. The drinks…”

“The drinks didn’t take that long.”

In-ho sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

She sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. “You know, it’s fine. I was warned you might be like this, anyways.”

He was taken aback for a second. “What?”

“Your friends, they all told me they basically forced you into this.”

He scoffed. He wanted to defend himself for a moment… but they were right. He stayed silent.

“I just thought you’d have better manners than this,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He wasn’t sure what to say. Before he could think of something, you spoke before your last song.

“I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to have your support. Thanks to you, I’ve been able to make my dreams a reality. I’d like to thank you by playing a brand new song, just for you all. I wrote this recently, but it’s about what some of my life has been like this past year. 

“Like I said before, some good memories, and some bad. I wrote this to reflect on some of those bad memories, and hopefully let go of the pain with them. I’m sure some of you can relate, right?”

Many in the crowd nodded. “This one is called Maybe You’ll Be There. Thank you.”

As you began your song, In-ho’s blood slowly ran cold. He knew after the first verse you were talking about him. He studied your face as you sang, watching how your eyes would subtly flutter at particularly emotional moments. It was something most people wouldn’t pick up on, but he knew you. He still knew you so well.

Your voice filled the space with ease as you reached more intense moments, gracing the ears of the audience with your rich tone. Once you reached the last verse, a tear fell down your cheek in perfect timing. In-ho’s heart strained in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to run to you on that stage and wipe the tear from your face, and do anything to make you happy again, anything to make the two of you whole again, anything to heal the wound that festered over the last year.

He almost cried listening to the final words of your song, hearing how you wished he would come back. After everything you had gone through together, and all the time you spent apart, you still missed him. His heart broke - he didn’t deserve you, and you deserved so much better than him. And you said it yourself, that you hoped you could finally move on after releasing this song.

Although it pained him greatly, and forced him to defy the longing he felt in every fiber of his being, he knew you’d be better off without him. And so, after your performance ended, he politely excused himself from the date and went home. 

~~~

You entered your apartment later that night, pleasantly exhausted. It was late, but you were still buzzing with emotion. You hadn’t expected to become so emotional while performing your new song. It had been a long time since you cried on stage, but singing that song brought back so many painful memories that you couldn’t help yourself. Despite that, you were proud of having such a vulnerable moment become something beautiful.

You collapsed on your couch with a glass of wine, too tired to get changed just yet. The silence enveloped you. You remembered a year ago, the last time you saw In-ho in your apartment. The somber look he gave you as he left. The ensuing rush of tears and pain that you couldn’t keep in that night. 

And the painful ache of longing you’ve had ever since then.

You sighed deeply, finishing your glass of wine and willing yourself to stand up. Life goes on, you told yourself. You were well-acquainted with the act of ignoring your feelings and pressing forward. No matter how much you wanted In-ho to appear in front of you, it wasn’t going to happen. He never once tried to get you back in the entire past year. Maybe now you could finally let go.

As you walked to your bedroom, you heard a light knocking at your door. 

You stopped. Were you hearing things? The following silence was filled with tension.

You were about to dismiss the noise and continue walking when you heard it again, this time louder. Your heart was beating through your chest. 

Slowly, you walked to the door. Your heart leapt, as if you knew who was behind the door. You weren’t sure whether to cry, or get excited, or get angry. A flurry of emotions filled your mind as you grasped the door handle, turned it, and pulled the door open.

You froze at the man standing in front of you. His grief stricken face. Flowers in his hands. The way he breathed a sigh of relief. 

The way your heart breathed a sigh of relief.

In-ho.

[jovialsongdefendor]

"Sonamy is canon and sonic likes amy back! he is just shy!"

What. Uh. The claim that "Sonamy is canon and Sonic likes Amy back but is just shy" is a misconception because it lacks clear evidence in the games or official media that Sonic reciprocates Amy’s romantic feelings in a meaningful or consistent way.

Sonic’s interactions with Amy across the games show that he cares for her as a friend and ally, but there’s no solid indication that he sees her romantically. Sonic often dodges or avoids Amy when she expresses her romantic feelings. While this is played for comedic effect, it’s far from a sign of shyness. It suggests that Sonic may not share the same feelings or simply isn’t interested in pursuing romance. Sonic cares about Amy’s safety and well-being, but this aligns with his general heroic nature and how he treats his other friends (e.g., Tails, Knuckles, or even strangers). His protective attitude doesn’t necessarily imply romantic feelings. And that some fans doesnt understand.

The evidence that some fans showed is mostly mistranslations that sega of the wester side do it on purpose when in the japanese version, where sonic is originated created, the text is completly different. So yeah, the voice over where tails read the questions about sonic having feelings for amy in the sonic cd resume of amy being sonics love interest they are already spreading wrong information, so yeah. They are literrally spreading a lie the america sega when they dont have any power on it lol. (sonadow wiki next)

"If anyone uses this to claim that it is Sonic saying that he is calling Amy his girlfriend, that is misinformation/disinformation, they are lying and it shows that they don’t know how to read Japanese at all.

This sentence has nothing to do with Sonic calling anyone his girlfriend. And what is in the parentheses is not a part of the sentence, that is a personal interpretation of what the person thought of after mistranslating the sentence.

What the sentence says is this: “Sorry but, I find a girlfriend to be an inconvenience (burden or discomfort).” or “Unfortunately, a girlfriend is something that I don’t want to inconvenience myself with, you know.”

The sentence in Japanese: “あいにく, ガールフレンドには 不自由して いないもんでね”

If you take the sentence apart (which you can see on this website) you will see each word on it’s own to see the direct translation.

あいにく = Unfortunately or Sorry, but…

ガールフレンド = Girlfriend

不自由して = Doing Discomfort or Inconvenience

いない = (something along the lines of) Do not (when paired with 不自由して)

もん = Something/Person/Thing

でね = You know

Another thing to point out is that the sentence in Japanese does not have the word or meaning “have” in it. “Have” in Japanese would involve the character or particle “が.”

One more thing to point out is that with the incorrect translation, if Sonic was saying that, then it does not reflect in the game it is in, nor future medias where he runs away from Amy constantly (like in Sonic Battle) or considers her only a friend."

Even Ian sayed that amys love is one-sided and sonic considered her as a friend, nothing more. Everyone, including employess, are just lying to this point!

And even in the video down below sonic sayed that is nothing complicated, and she is just a important friend that can be difficult to handle sometimes.

"Oh, but sonic sounds like a boy with a crush"

NO. That doesnt mean necesarrily that he have a crush People claiming "he sounds like he has a crush" are basing their argument on subjective interpretation of Sonic’s tone of voice rather than the actual words he says. Tone can be influenced by many factors: Sonic might be playful, casual, or dismissive because he doesn’t see the topic as serious.

His tone might even reflect mild awkwardness—not because of romantic feelings, but because Amy’s affection can sometimes be overbearing or embarrassing for him. When Sonic curtly responds to questions about Amy (like saying she's "an important friend" or "nothing complicated"), some fans interpret his brevity as embarrassment or an attempt to hide his true feelings. However, this interpretation comes from the fan’s desire to see a romantic connection, not from what Sonic is actually communicating.

Without concrete actions to back up this tone, interpreting it as proof of a crush is a leap. So no, friends, not everything has to be romantic.

And even in the japanese sonic channel amy is still saying that she is a "self-proclamed" girlfriend so... yeah.

And about that some fans sayed that in sonic unleashed sonic gets sad because amy doesnt recognize him and walks away, more like sonic gets sad because with that form his friends couldnt even recognize him anymore and thinks he looks like a monster. that doesnt show that he likes her romantically. He is trying to adapt to his new form, so is understandable that he felts sad with his new form if a friend doesnt recognize him. And about sonic flirting with lady percival thing: bro, sonic is acting normal like he do with knuckles, tails and even shadow. what are you into bro.

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@mssorceressupreme

⭒ Your Warmth

gryffindor quidditch team throws a celebratory party at the lake after their win, and you decide to go though you were not one for parties. someone then pulls a prank on you (not fred), throwing you in the lake, not knowing you can’t swim.

@mywhisperingwords

⭒ Am I What You Wanted?

casual. no strings. just something to forget the loneliness. right?

⭒ Never Will Be

if one more person called fred your boyfriend, you were going to hex them—and then probably yourself for wishing it were true.

⭒ Old Habits Die Screaming

you move in with your ex, what could go wrong?

⭒ Everyone Wants Him

everyone wants fred weasley, why would he want you?

⭒ A Touch That Never Hurts

you seem to have fallen for your best friend, which you could handle if only he didn’t constantly touch you

@ultravjiolencee

⭒ Wearing Each Others Ties

In the bustling morning chaos of the Gryffindor common room, you and Fred accidentally grab the wrong ties while rushing to get ready for the day. Your mistake doesn’t go unnoticed, and soon rumors swirl among their classmates. mention of slytherin reader just so.

@lovegoodlane

⭒ Pursuing The Prefect

A Ravenclaw prefect catches Fred's eye, but she's not as easy to seduce as he had thought.

@wingyattium

⭒ Quiet Ride

a thirst about sneaking into fred’s room to ride him in the middle of the night

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Ideas: Evil Plan

This trope is the reason "villains act, heroes react"; the villain needs to be doing something evil or the hero has no evil to thwart.

Some popular examples of Evil Plans:

Take Over the World: This is the most popular villainous scheme of all. The scale of conquest can vary depending on the setting and (or) the villain—some warlords are content to settle with conquering a city, a kingdom or nation, while Science Fiction or Fantasy overlords will go for nothing less than galactic, universal or even multidimensional domination.

The Evils of Free Will: A popular means to this end: by robbing everyone of their free will, they will have no choice but to serve their rightful ruler.

Assimilation Plot: Let's turn everyone into a single entity, whether they wish it or not.

Earth-Shattering Kaboom: Why take over the world when you can blow it up? Like Take Over the World, the scale of destruction also varies depending on the setting — some villains are content with merely destroying a city or kingdom (particularly if they feel the city or kingdom has somehow wronged them — i.e., revenge), while Omnicidal Maniacs may well wish nothing less than to destroy the entire universe or multiverse.

Kill All Humans. Related tropes: Feeling Oppressed by Their Existence: A character wants to get rid of a particular person or group of people just for existing. Absolute Xenophobe: Wants to destroy all other sentient life (human or otherwise). Omnicidal Maniac: Wants to destroy absolutely all life, sentient or not. Final Solution: The intentional extermination of a species/demographic is the answer to fix a perceived issue. Humanity's Wake: The outcome of this trope should the opposing species succeed in eradicating us.

In Their Own Image: Not happy with the world the way it is? Try tearing it down, and building it back up as something even greater.

The End of the World as We Know It: Not so much destroying the world or humanity as really screwing up civilization; though the former two may be involved in the bargain.

A God Am I: Forcing everyone to acknowledge their godhood (actual godlike powers optional).

Godhood Seeker: Make your character an actual deity.

Immortality Seeker: Pursue the quest for eternal life, no matter what foul deeds are needed to make it happen.

A Plot in Deed: Steal the deed to a plot of land and you'll own it, so why not steal the deed to somewhere good?

MacGuffin: Steal an ancient artifact with untold powers. This is usually done in the pursuit of one of the other Evil Plans.

Sealed Evil in a Can: Release the source of all Evil from its prison. This rarely goes well for the villain attempting it.

Revenge: You know that guy that wronged you in the past? It doesn't matter how petty or misplaced your grievance is, it's payback time. Time to kill him, or make his life a living hell.

Get-Rich-Quick Scheme: If you're already rich, get richer. Any scheme is fair game in the pursuit of the profit margin, be it theft, blackmail, or auctioning the world off to hungry demons. Unfortunately, this lust for wealth falls prey to poor planning.

Utopia Justifies the Means: You know how people keep hurting themselves and each other? Make them stop, by whatever means are necessary. No ill will required! Just like in Take Over the World, The Evils of Free Will often gets put into play here.

Dystopia Justifies the Means: People hurting each other? That's exactly what your society needs. Use all the means at your disposal to create a nightmarish dystopia where the forces of evil run rampant and people live in constant terror and corruption, just the way the villains like it.

Poke the Poodle: Their idea of evil is harmless behavior like cheating at Solitaire, jaywalking on an empty road, chewing gum in Singapore, pulling the "do not remove" tag off of your mattress, hiding your toothpaste, drinking the milk directly from the carton...

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[freeluigihesbae]

𝓫𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼 - 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝟏

(1,689 words)

summary:

luigi fell in love with you for those sparkling eyes where his dreams of falling in love first came true. but how did it happen?

𝗍𝗐: 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was the fourth year of undergrad at the University of Pennsylvania. There were times when Luigi wished he'd gone to a regular university, where no-one would try to inflate their egos just because they were an Ivy-League-r. It was tiring when fake 'friends' tried to get close to him, only to ditch and snitch when they took what they wanted and left.

Sure, he made some good friends in the years he had spent at Penn, making and leading a few clubs and having a few reliable classmates, but overall, there was a sense of grounding he still hadn't gotten. There was no-one on campus who was down-to-earth the way he was. No-one shared his perspective.

That all changed when it came time for homecoming. Luigi was the star of his friend group and they were desperately trying to set him up with a Philosophy major who, on paper, would be his picture perfect match. She was fairly tall - a humble 5'5" - dirty blonde hair, slender legs and a toned body. She even had perfect grades with a beautiful capability to hold conversation that had meaning, perhaps explaining why she chose, pursued, and succeeded in a philosophy major.

They tried and tried all they could, but failed in making Luigi ask her out. Ash, everyone had called her, did have a huge crush on Luigi, feeling encouraged by how Luigi's friends always nudged her when he came around, but they were doing her an injustice. Things came to a head when she took it upon herself to ask him out for homecoming.

"Luigi?" A soft voice comes up behind Luigi, who turns around, stopping his work on the wall. He was hanging up papers for UPGRADE, encouraging everyone to scan the QR code to register for the first meeting. His tense shoulders relax, but confusion immediately covers his face when he sees not only Ash, but her entire group of friends giggling behind her.

Ash's face is covered in blush, her eyes giving away how nervous she is. Luigi gives a small smile, stepping down from the ladder before repeating her name back.

"What's up Ash?" Luigi speaks with a steady tone, mind scattered across having to deal with the club and unable to focus on Ash entirely, but still caring about what she has to say.

"I-I- was wondering um-" Ash gulps and Luigi is clueless, wondering if she's okay. He watches her friends push her lightly whispering in her ear. She stops moving around and finally straightens her back, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"I was wondering i-if you wanted to go to homecoming with me." Ash finally gets the words out and her friends freeze, staring at Luigi to see what his answer is.

Luigi internally slaps himself - how could he not realize why they were laughing and screwing around with Ash? Of course it was about homecoming and for a second, he felt anger flare up. It was convenient to catch him in the middle of a busy hallway and come with an entire group because the pressure to say yes was tenfold now and it was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

Luigi stares at an unsure Ash, who seems to have her hopes increased after proposing the deal to him. The rational part of him is screaming to say yes and later talk to her in private, but he couldn't. He didn't like Ash because yeah, she was great at holding conversations and she was conventionally attractive, but he never clicked with her. In the few times he had gotten time alone with her, she came across as...boring. She was knowledgeable but gah-- something didn't click. Maybe it was the nuances in how her ego showed and how shallowness presented itself. It was tiring, typical, you know?

Luigi wasn't a pawn; he didn't want to be played and for that reason, he goes against that urge and tells the truth.

"Ash," Luigi starts talking but freezes upon seeing her friend huddle in closer. His smile slowly disappears as he's shaking his head.

"I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to ask me, but I'm going to decline that offer. I'm sorry if my friends have led you on in thinking I like you, but that's not true. I've been keeping to myself in this time and I-I just can't do it." Luigi finishes talking and doesn't know whether the ground or wall would swallow him whole, because he sees Ash getting tears in her eyes while her friends gawked, faces transforming into disgust.

Soon enough, Ash's face followed suit.

"You," she points a finger in his face before talking. "Rejected me in front of everyone? What kind of a guy are you?" Her anger is obvious but Luigi's face becomes neutral. What else did he expect?

"You're the one who came up to me when the hallway is busy and you brought your triage with you. Not my fault. Your attempt to pressure me into saying yes didn't work. I'm not apologizing for say no. Only if my friends have led you to believe something that isn't true." Luigi finishes talking before realizing the hallway he thought was bustling away was frozen and holding up countless phones in his face.

Oh no.

Ash lets out a sob before cursing him out and walking away, her girls comforting her and leaving Luigi forced to feel bad since everyone decided to stare at him silently and add in their two cents by giving blank or angry expressions.

He didn't have time for this.

"What are you guys looking at? Fuck off!" Luigi shouts and people seem to snap, muttering words as their phones lower and everyone starts walking off, still giving glances. Luigi returns to his tasks from before, stapling the papers into the wall for the next ten or so minutes. He feels relieved once the hallway is buzzing again as usual, taking solace in the monotony of his task.

But life just has to ruin that, doesn't it?

Luigi is about to lift his head up and staple the last paper before the short stool beneath him shakes, and eventually, leading him to lose his grip. The wall is smooth and it takes less than a second for him to realize he's going straight down to the ground.

He yelps, trying to keep himself upright but fails, falling over and groaning as soon as he hits the ground, except...

he feels something soft underneath his head.

Luigi looks up, facing the wall before looking to the side and beneath him to see a soft, faux fur backpack placed under his head, perfectly set to stop his head from hitting the ground. He looks up and sees the last poster, ripped into two halves making him nearly tear his hair out. He grabs the bag before scrunching it in his palm and talking.

"Who. The. Fuc-" Luigi's eyes are closed before he turns around to open them, ready to shout at whoever is looking at him before he freezes.

That's when he meets you, or your eyes, more specifically. There you are, biting your finger and looking at him with ridiculously glossy eyes stuttering out apologies and threatening to cry if he even says a word.

"I'm s-so sorry I didn't check where I was looking 'n I had a terrible day and I-I-I-" You're over your own head, afraid of his reaction and worried something had happened to him. You didn't kill him. You saved him and it wasn't your fault people were shoving you around even after they saw your cast on your left leg.

Luigi's eyes flicker down to your cast and back up to your eyes before he gently sets the bag down, walking towards you.

"Hey." He speaks softly, placing a hand on your shoulder, prompting you to look up at him. The tears have already streamed down your face and he gasps, taking in how beautiful your eyes look.

They're shaped like adorable almonds, widening at any shift in movement yet sparkling with so much emotion and fear. The brown hue looks stunning with a docile sun ray shooting right through them; Luigi has to gulp and shake his head before he speaks.

Instinctively, he wraps his arms around you, pulling your head into his embrace. You follow suit, snuggling into his arms.

"I'm so sorry I swear." You say, another tiny sob escaping you before he pulls back, shaking his head.

"Stop. I'm alive and you saved my life with your bag. I didn't see your cast. I'm sorry for getting so mad." Luigi says, running his hand down your back before letting go. You nod quietly, sniffling after you hear his words.

Luigi's heart is leaping out his chest, desperate to just grab your face and kiss those fat drops off of your face. But he can't.

"Listen, how about I make this up to you? Cafe Amore, 3pm. Tomorrow works?" Luigi asks, tilting his head down to catch your reaction. You look up with a gentle smile while wiping away at your tears.

"R-Really?" You ask and Luigi nods, prompting the previous anxiety to melt away and you let your arms drop to your side.

"Okay. Okay. Deal." You say and Luigi's smile widens impossibly more, nodding his head as he turns around but stops. You, getting ready to leave, also stop.

"Do you uh-" Luigi clears his throat, clearly blushing now. "Do you need help getting to class or- or wherever you're going?" You smile, feeling warm at his soothing voice and kind gesture, but you shake your head.

"No. I'm alright..." You pause. What's his name?

"Luigi." He fills it in and you nod, sniffling before you talk.

"I'm alright Luigi. I'll see you tomorrow." You giggle before walking away, limping with ease on your cast. Luigi watches from afar, his heartstrings breaking into two every time he watched you take a step on the same cast. He turns his head away, lightly placing his forehead against the wall.

He just fell in love and your eyes did the trick.

~

@cherrysolo and @luigis-wetdream (whoever the anon was that requested a bambi eyed reader, please tell them somehow a fic is being written for 'em bc idk who they are to tag them!!)

[he3ts]

THIRTY ONE DAYS

pairings: the salesman x reader

warnings: in this part none in particular, except use of guns (?)

plot: a recruiter and an fbi agent. you are mutually obsessed with each other, what could go wrong?

The air was still in the empty hotel, as if the building itself was holding its breath, and there you were, alone, standing in the middle of the lobby. The dim light from the neon flashing above the lobby, filtered through the dirty windows, but did little to brighten the room. Darkness lurked in the corners, like a waiting predator. That darkness reminded you of your training at Quantico, of how you had conquered all fear just to continue your work. Your heart was pounding, every shot ringing in your ears like a dull drum.

After months of pursuits, of traps that seemed perfect and instead failed miserably, after sleepless nights spent calculating and recalculating your every move, there he was.

The recruiter.

He was in front of you at last. He sat in a worn and weathered armchair, his legs crossed and a calmness that disarmed you. The light danced on his face, but the shadow of the cigar between his lips was the thing that stood out in your eyes. It was as if he had been waiting for you, not the other way around. His relaxed posture, that barely-there smile, everything about him conveyed an uncanny confidence, as if he knew your every weakness, your every intention.

"I must say I'm impressed, agent"

His voice was soft, but the sarcasm that accompanied it was as sharp as a blade. Those words made you clench your fists, an instinctive gesture that revealed the anger you were trying to hold back.

"I thought you would have given up long before," he added with a slight tilt of his head, as if he was studying you, looking for a reaction. You stared at him. Motionless, as if you were pinned down by an invisible force. Inside you, however, was chaos. Anger bubbled in your chest, alongside something else you did not want to acknowledge: a deaf obsession, a disturbing attraction to the man you had pursued for so long. There was also curiosity, a disturbing curiosity that gnawed at your soul. You wanted to know. You wanted to understand.

You had imagined it a thousand times, this moment. You had experienced it in your dreams and nightmares, you had predicted it and repeated it in your mind like an obsessive ritual. Yet, now that you were there, the only sound was that of your labored breathing and the distant hum of a faulty electrical tube.

Finally, it was your voice that broke the silence, even though it sounded almost foreign to you. "There is no one here to save you," you said, in a tone you wanted to be harsh, implacable. "This time, you have no way out"

He laughed. Not a full laugh, but a short, sharp one, enough to make you grit your teeth. "Oh, really?" he said, tilting his head slightly. "Do you think I'm the one who needs saving?"

Those words hit you like a fist, heavy and impossible to ignore. For a moment, you hesitated. There was no one there with you.

No allies, no reinforcements. Just you and him. And there was something in his voice that made you tremble, a realization you could not ignore: every move, from then on, would be decisive. Every mistake, potentially fatal.

You realized that no matter how much you had planned everything, the game was starting at that moment, and he, with his unflappable smile, already knew all the rules. You were cursing Gi-Hun for that assignment, but you was technically helping a friend. However, you were missing the evidence, which unfortunately your colleague had disappeared into the ocean.

You had moved a step closer, your eyes fixed on him like those of a hunter who did not want to lose sight of his prey. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to react, but you did not draw the gun hanging from the holster under your vest. Not yet. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your impatience, nor your anger.

"You've been hiding for months," you said, in a tone as sharp as a razor blade, "always one step ahead. But no more. I will stop your fucking inhuman games"

Your words echoed in the empty hotel lobby, but he did not react as you expected. No sign of fear, no trace of anxiety. He tilted his head, as someone observing a painting whose meaning he could not grasp. His eyes scanned you, analyzing every crease in your face, every breath, as if you were an enigma to be deciphered. A lock of black hair had fallen over his forehead, jauntily, nothing seemed to disturb him.

"Oh, honey," he said with a thin smile that made you grit your teeth, "you still don't understand, do you? I was never the one hiding. I let you chase me. Every move you made, every choice you made, every decision--it was mine. I guided you here"

Those words hit you like a punch to the stomach, a shiver ran down your spine, but you would never give him the satisfaction of seeing your upset. "Liar," you spat, trying to maintain control. "You're just a coward playing with other people's lives because you don't have the courage to face your own misery!"

Yet, his smile did not falter. On the contrary, it widened, revealing a dark sparkle in his eyes. He rose slowly from the chair, his movements fluid and calculated, like a predator stretching before attacking. He looked taller than I remembered, or maybe it was the shadow that made him that way.

"Face my misery?" he repeated, with a short, heatless laugh. "You talk about courage as if you know anything about it, but look at you" He took a step forward, and then another. "How long have you been living just for this moment? How long has your obsession with me consumed you? Isn't this the real misery?"

You stiffened, and for a moment you felt the need to take a step back, but you stopped immediately, forcing yourself not to back down. "You're good with words," you replied, your voice colder than you felt. "But it won't work"

He stopped, a few steps away from you, the calmness radiating from his body almost unbearable. He made a gesture with his hand, pointed to the environment around you. "Do you know why I brought you here?" he asked, his voice low and velvety, almost hypnotic. "Because this place is perfect. Empty, isolated, silent. No one will hear you scream"

Your breath quickened, and without realizing it, your hand was already on the gun. But before you could pull it out, he raised a hand, a slow, theatrical gesture. "Wait," he said, his tone calm as if he were explaining something to an old friend. "Before you do something you might regret, let me ask you a question"

You stared at him, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Are you really sure you want to know why I let you find me?" he continued, moving another step closer until you could hardly hear his breath. "Are you ready for that?"

The air felt heavy, as if the very walls of the hotel were tightening around you. Every fiber of your being was telling you to act, to do something, but his words had you immobilized, as if some part of you knew there was truth in what he was saying.

"Because, you know," he said, tilting his head slightly, "you're not so different from me. You like to think you're the hero, but really ... you're just another piece in this game"

The gun slid from its holster with a firm movement, and you pointed it at his chest, your hands steady despite the tremor you felt inside. "One more word and you'll regret it," you hissed, your voice hard as steel. But he didn't seem scared at all. In fact, his smile grew wider, almost amused. "Perhaps," he said, his tone light, almost cheerful. "But have you ever considered that, just like everyone else, you too could be a player?"

The silence that followed was deafening. You felt as if you were hovering on a thin wire, with emptiness beneath you. And for the first time, a thought crossed your mind like a bolt of lightning: what if you were not in control of the situation? That you were going crazy? That this was yet another trouble you had gotten yourself into?

The gun was pointed at him, and you felt your finger resting on the trigger, steady, ready. Every fiber in your body was tense, every muscle waiting for a signal to act. The cold metal of the weapon pressed against the palm of your hand, but it was his gaze, that mocking smile on his face, that weighed most heavily on you. He did not turn his eyes away from yours, not out of fear, not out of anger, but with that disarming calm that made you want to pull the trigger just to erase it.

"I'm not afraid," you said, your voice hard but just a little cracked.

Yet even as you spoke those words, you knew it would not be that simple. You knew it in the way he moved, slow and calculated, as if he was in control, even though you had the weapon. You knew it in the way his every word seemed to slip under your skin, creeping in like poison.

The recruiter did not seem the least bit intimidated. In fact, the smile on his face widened, subtle, dangerous. It was as if he had been waiting for exactly that moment. "Would you really?" he asked, his voice soft, almost curious. "Would you really think that pulling that trigger would solve anything? Or maybe ... you just want to do it for yourself?"

Those words struck you more than you would have liked. For a moment, a flash of doubt crossed your mind. But you forced yourself to banish it, to focus only on him. "Enough of your games," you spat, clutching your weapon more tightly. "They won't work"

He laughed softly, a laugh that seemed made on purpose to irritate you, to test you. He took a step toward you, so slow and measured that you almost didn't notice until he was too close. "Ah, but they work already, Y/n. Look where we are. Look how I got you here, exactly where I wanted you"

You felt the finger on the trigger tighten just a little more. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions: anger, frustration, and something darker, something you didn't want to admit. It was him. His presence. The way he seemed to know your every thought, your every move before you even made it.

"You think you're in control," he continued, his voice a whisper that seemed to fill the entire room. "You think you're the one in charge, but in reality-you're exactly where I wanted you to be. Doesn't that sound curious?"

His calmness infuriated you, but you could not deny the knot you felt tightening in your stomach. It wasn't fear. It was something else, an emotion you could not define. An obsession you didn't want to acknowledge, one that had driven you to follow him, to pursue him for months, years.

"Shut up," you hissed, but your voice was less firm than you had hoped.

"Ah, there," he said, tilting his head slightly. "That's what you want, isn't it? Silence. But you can never find it, can you? It's you. You and your need to understand, to control. That's why you haven't killed me yet"

You felt your breath quicken, your finger trembling slightly on the trigger. You hated it. You hated the way he could turn your every action into his victory, your every word into a weapon against you. But, most of all, you hated the fact that a part of you knew he was right.

And he, as if he had read your thoughts, took another step forward. He was close now, too close. You felt his presence like a shadow, heavy and looming. "Come on, agent" he said, almost softly. "Pull that trigger. Do it. It will set you free, right?"

His words were a venomous whisper that squeezed your throat. But you hadn't done it. Your finger remained there, motionless, still on the trigger, but unable to move. Because, deep down, you knew he was right. Shooting wouldn't have solved anything. It would not have erased what you were feeling. It would not have stopped the game.

The recruiter took another step forward, getting so close that you could almost feel the heat of his body. You could feel your finger on the trigger pulsing, your heart beating hard against your ribs. But he didn't seem to mind. In fact, his calm seemed almost surreal, as if he was sure you would not fire.

Then something had happened that you had not expected. Slowly, unhurriedly, he extended a hand toward you. Your reflexes prompted you to stiffen, to point the gun more firmly at him, but he did not stop. With infuriating slowness, his fingers reached down to your hair, taking a strand between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes widened, your breath caught. You felt your heart quicken as he, with a soft gesture, brought that lock of hair to your face. He sniffed it, closing his eyes briefly as if savoring a memory, or something sacred.

"Agent," he murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper. "This is what I've been chasing all this time. This is what drove me to play"

His words hit you like a lash, but you were too confused, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment to react immediately. He opened his eyes and looked at you, and that look affected you more than his closeness. There was something dark, morbid in those eyes of his.

"You don't realize it," he continued, his hand still in contact with your hair, "but it's always been you. Not the games. Not the power. Not the victory. Just you"

"You're crazy," you hissed, your tone harsh but cracked. You wanted to push him away, push him away, but it was as if your legs didn't respond.

"I know," he replied, with a shameless smile. "But maybe that's why we're perfect. Because you too, deep down, are like me"

Those words set you off; you finally found the strength to back away a step, shaking his hand out of your hair. "Stop it," you said, raising the gun again. "We are not the same. We never will be"

He did not move, his smile barely widening. "Really? Then why don't you pull that trigger? Why don't you put an end to this?"

Yet, inside you, something was breaking. Like a rope pulled too long, ready to give way under the weight of that night, of those words that seemed to hit you where you knew you were most vulnerable. The recruiter, motionless before you, barely tilted his head, his gaze charged with morbid interest, his smile now slow, calculated.

"What's going on? The big moment and you're paralyzed? You can't decide whether to shoot me or stay and watch me, as you've been doing for months!" His voice was like glass against skin, sharp and thin, but it was that amused, almost indulgent tone that made you grit your teeth. "Don't worry, we can stay here all night. I'm in no hurry"

You felt the weight of each word. They dug into you, lurking like thorns, but you wouldn't let go. Not yet. You didn't have to believe them, not even for a second. But those eyes. Those eyes seemed to be able to read you better than you could read yourself. And for a moment, you felt that terrible doubt creep into you. What if he was right?

But you were too weak, because he was right, you had turned around so fast that the gun almost slipped from your hand. But you had let it go. The dull sound of the gun falling to the floor had been the last sound before the chaos. Your legs had begun to move, as if they knew where to go better than you did. Each step took you farther, each breath was a cry of rebellion against the weight of his presence.

You were running away.

His laughter had filled the hotel, bouncing off the peeling walls as you ran down the dark hallway. Your feet pounded on the floor, the sound of footsteps almost covered by the distant hum of neon lights wavering above you.

You had not stopped. You couldn't.

[villain-byteniwoha]

i love this take and i agree with anon like. on their own, diana, selina, and/or talia all fascinate me and i'd love to explore more of their characters but when paired with bruce, it suddenly feels off? and while i blame this on the general (often shit) quality of writing when it comes to female characters, there's also the underlying fact that superbat just feels more consistent

because they're meant to parallel one another, right? they're on opposite ends of cliche tropes (rich city boy/humble country boy, orphaned at a young age/grew up with doting parents, night and day, sun and moon, etc.) those core motifs and traits rarely get lost, and even if their characters get butchered in some series or other, at the end of the day, we all know what batman and superman stand for.

and while they're painted to be polar opposites, they still stand together.

something i absolutely despise when it comes to any franchise is when the narrative so obviously, desperately wants to push a romance that it often neglects the context it exists within to pursue that romantic aspect, and it's usually at the woman's expense. knowing this trend disillusions me from most m/f writing altogether tbh

so for superbat, who've been developing this relationship (which is varied, complex, with so many ups and downs) for literal decades, it almost seems natural for them to end up together, in a way.

op brought up a point at the end there about them being similar and it reminded me of these pages (don't ask me where i got these, i just have them downloaded)

and again, it's this selfless thing between them. they motivate each other to be better, they see one another for their flaws, they see good. it's so uniquely them!! it's interesting, it's touching, it's fucking insane ngl and it's just one of the many facets of their relationship

The thing is... I understand Clark/Lois and Clark/Lana, and Superbat feels coherent to that.

I do not tend to understand Bruce's canon-y ships. I don't quite get WonderBat (which is sweet, but why do they fascinate each other?) or BatCat (Catwoman feels like a sexual icon. I don't get why Bruce Wayne, expert at making himself a sexual icon just as well, would be taken in by that) or Talia/Bruce (She seems a bit... square minded for Bruce?? She's a heir to a legacy, like he is, but she doesn't... need to search for what that means. Ras tells her what to do.) Superbat makes more sense to me than all of Bruce's actual ships.

Am I tripping? What are your thoughts on this?

you come to me, a superbat blog, to ask me if I think it's better than the other Bruce ships? 🤣

in all seriousness, superbat works because their canon friendship is so deep and varied. they are often written in contrast or comparison to each other. they work together nearly 24/7. they hang out together outside of work. even their private lives intersect, despite best efforts. if you write a romantic relationship for the two of them, you're really just building on an already-built foundation. and that foundation is so much more rich and complex than any other relationships the two will have, save maybe Clark and Lois.

the reason they work, in my mind, is that they think they're different, but when those differences are thrown in relief, they're really more similar than they think. they're both good men trying to be something beyond one person, one human or alien. and they both share the belief that the other is a better person, deep down, than they are.

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Awkward Tales - Vignette 1: The Nervous Flirt

When the Great Shift hit the world, everyone was thrown into chaos. However, eventually society resettled into a new and more accepting form. At some point everyone would have to get used to their new bodies… right?

Well for a few individuals out there, after the great shift, they still were… adjusting. No matter how much time happened, some were cursed with an awkward new perspective in life. 

Maxwell, was nervous. More nervous than usual! Before the great shift, he had recently come out as gay to his close friends and family! While, they were all super accepting and happy for him, that didn’t solve his issues… talking to people he liked! No matter how many times he tried, he would turn into a stuttering mess whenever a hot guy was in the vicinity. He was lucky enough that his small unassuming frame meant no one could see his failures.

When the great shift happened, he thought things might be different.  New body! New me! That was the mantra he’d heard many people say as he had browsed forums and self help spaces. Turns out many people just needed a new body to reorient their social skills and  come out of their shell! At first Maxwell thought he’d be one of them!

He knew that he was a lot stronger in this body. He still wore his glasses, but these arms were no joke. Plus he didn’t have any skin issues anymore and he finally had some decent facial hair to work with! It all seemed to add up to something of a turning point for his life. 

That wasn’t the case.

Turns out a new body came with the same issues PLUS a few new ones too. Maxwell couldn’t form a straight sentence around hot guys, even newly hot guys who had never been hit on before! Even if Maxwell was just as handsome and good looking, his words fell apart at the slightest bit of attraction. Not only that, but his pool of attraction doubled. Apparently the guy he’d become was bisexual and loved flirting with men and women! So now not only did hot men make his speech a mess, but beautiful ladies did as well! A single hot woman could ruin his night if she asked for directions! A studly man asking if he wanted a drink would have him run out of the bar! No matter what seemed to happen, Maxwell was still an awkward dork.

Going from 5’5 to 6’2 didn’t help either. Now everyone could see this towering confident stud look like a complete fool! And his quick escapes were a thing of the past since every time he tried to run away he’d trip over his large size 15 feet. The last time he tried to flee from a failed flirt he knocked over two waiters and spilled 3 drinks over the person he was talking to. He needed some help. 

His friends did their best to console him, but even they had difficulty finding a clear solution. 

“Come on dude, you’ve got to stop biting your nails!” Beth, his best friend since college said after another night of failed flirting.

“I’m sorry Beth!” Maxwell whined in his new voice. Previously that expression was met with more nasally tones, but now even his wines made such flirtatious sounds when it came out of his new deep voice. “I just can’t stop thinking about that couple that asked if I wanted to join them tonight. The guy was soooo hot! He was like some kind of bodybuilder! And the girl! She could’ve been a super model. And i just froze and ran away!”

“It’s ok. I know that you want to pursue a relationship post shift. There’s no shame in striking out. Lots of people are having a hard time finding love.” Beth chimed in trying to comfort her friend.

“Easy for you to say. You and your fiance got Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth’s bodies! And you’re still together!” Maxwell complained, burying his head in his pillow, still shirtless and showing off his impressive arms.

“I… I admit. We did get lucky. I know all our friends love Marvel, and my fiance and I are mega nerds… and the role play in the bedroom is fun and-”

“Beth!”

“Sorry! I just mean, that nothing is hopeless.  You’ll find what you’re looking for soon. And hey, if it helps you can try flirting with me and Erin tonight.” Beth offered.

Maxwell blushed… and then slowly nodded. Maybe flirting with two of his biggest celebrity crushes would solve his issue after all.

[gia-batmm-crickle22]

!! Dr. Ratio, Nous & Fuli and Amphoreus Theory !!

Okay, I've got something cooking up, and this is just a theory, don't worry, so please take all of this with a grain of salt ^^; Also, this involves spoilers so please turn away if you haven't played the 3.0 update yet!

So, people have theorized that Dr. Ratio is from Amphoreus. Before the proof was just simply "His clothes and aesthetic are similar to Amphoreus!" But after Amphoreus was released, the theory is actually getting more proof.

Here's one proof:

Ratio and the Titankin of Strife have interesting similarities. Not simply because of the color and the book, but power-wise, they have similar abilities. They both can turn into stone, with Ratio more replicating himself after turning into stone while he has also the ability of wearing a stone bust.

So my theory goes;

What if Dr. Ratio is a half-Titankin that was exiled from Amphoreus?

After the Main Quest, we get a message from Aglaea that sends us to the Adventure Quest "I Once Was In Arcadia", which uncovers a love story between a guy named Paris and a Strife Titankin Furiae Archer.

This was enough for me to understand that Titankins CAN feel more than their original path like Strife. From this quest, I've also understood Amphoreus natives fear Titankins and would have them discriminated at one mistake.

From that, I made the theory of Ratio being half-Titankin. Of course, that would mean his parents were hated and possibly executed. And since Ratio has the face and intelligence of a human with the skills and power of a Titankin, he was seen as a danger to Amphoreus. This aligns to the fact that the Sky Titan Aquila refuses to let anyone leave the planet (from what Aglaea had stated), so the people sent Ratio (probably when he was a child) in attempt to get rid of him. However, Aquila spared him (given he was exiled, not attempting to escape).

Now, ik Amphoreus was destroyed and what we're looking at is just the memory of it, so...

How would this be possible?

Well, in the game, we see that Titankins can change into stone, right? And when you change from Past/Day to Present/Night, the Titankins change too. They turn to stone, almost like a hibernation that keeps them alive despite the years.

With that in mind, I theorize that Ratio was also able to do that, even as a child, his powers/instincts took over and he stayed in stone when he landed in another planet, unbothered and sleeping. When he finally awakens, he's still a child, but Amphoreus is long gone.

Now, where does Nous play a part in this?

As we know, Erudition is one of the paths that's involved with Amphoreus, thus Nous has a role to play in this theory, especially in terms of Ratio. Unlike Fuli, who kept the planet's memory, Nous (as theorized) has no interest with a planet that no longer exists.

This could explain why Nous refuses to answer Herta's questions about Amphoreus.

Now, about Ratio. Ratio was rejected by Nous in joining the Genius Society because he cares about people more than the pursue for knowledge. Ratio has a weakness that Nous makes sure none of the other Genius's have, so THEY turned him away.

But what if it was so much more than that?

What if Nous is aware that Ratio is from Amphoreus and not only do THEY not like the fact that Ratio has a weakness, but THEY also believe that Ratio will take advantage of his place in the Genius Society to help/rescue Amphoreus from ruin? Whether Ratio remembers his home planet or not, Nous didn't want to take the chance, believing that Amphoreus is a doomed planet from the getgo and their fate shouldn't be changed.

This could explain why Fuli (possibly) sent THEIR Memokeeper Black Swan to input the planet Amphoreus into the thoughts and ideas of the Trailblazers while (possibly) sending THEIR Memosnatcher to attempt to distract Nous and Herta from the building of THEIR plan.

When you exit Amphoreus, it's very different from the other Bad Endings. Elio is usually the script supervisor, but Amphoreus isn't.

It's an adventure that started with Black Swan, possibly sent by Fuli, thus the conclusion is that Fuli is the one who tugged on the strings and changed the script/altered the script to have the Trailblazers in Amphoreus, a land that even Akivili hasn't been in, and save Amphoreus.

With this theory, these questions remain:

Why is Fuli trying to save Amphoreus?

Will Nous try to stop the Trailblazers from saving Amphoreus?

Will Ratio return to his home planet after it's saved?

---

Again, this is all just a theory! I'll probably publish this in other platforms, sooo yeah ^^;

[kamily-art]

Pjo au

Who is each of the turtles (and usagi) godly parent?

Are the turtles still brothers?

Were they still created (either by draxum or a god who wants to start a war?)

hihi!! thanks so much for the ask! i wanted to do a couple doodles to go along with it, and ended up yapping a LOT more than i meant to.... my bad....

the godly parents aren't totally finalized for all of them but i'll tell you what i have for now.

Leo - he's unironically the one i've had the most trouble with, but i think i'm gonna go with Poseidon; it matches what with the blue and all, and i think it would be cool for him to have water powers. i still need all their mystic weapons to work, but i'm thinking of having the weapons' power sources be from something other than their godly parents.

Donnie - Hephaestus of course; he's been building things since he was a kid. i honestly think he'd be the one to resist the knowledge that their parents are gods the most. he doesn't want his talent to be because of some dad who doesn't even care about him.

Mikey - he was the easiest- Apollo. has to be, with all of his art, skill at cooking, charm, etc. he also possesses the gift of prophecy, but no ability to control it (like rachel dare). it manifests in the form of drawings; when he's drawing the future, he is in a trance and cannot move, speak or look out for himself. this has led to his brothers never letting him go anywhere alone, something he's annoyed about.

Raph - it had to be Ares; however i like to think he doesn't fit in very well because of how much of a softie he is despite being strong, etc. he likes hitting things; preferably punching bags or bad guys. he doesn't like war.

have a doodle of him when the turtles first met Usagi. (the rest of the turtles are hiding behind him btw. they just got their asses beat by said bunny.)

speaking of Usagi, his godly parent is Hermes! this AU is not meant to exchange specific PJO characters with rottmnt/Samurai rabbit, but, similarly to Luke, Usagi does end up possessed by Kronos. However, it is not willing.

Someone does willingly join Kronos, however. I won't tell you who.

as for whether they'll still brothers- not biologically! however, they met as toddlers and ended up sticking together. it was necessary to survive, with all the monsters after them. point is, they're basically adopted brothers- which brings us to your next question!

essentially, they started off as human demigods. however, they were kidnapped when they were babies and mutated into turtles (i always thought it would be interesting if the turtles were humans originally); but as they were still demigods, they were still pursued by monsters. they were with draxum for a few years before escaping when his lab was attacked. god knows how they survived. i headcanon (whats this? a hc of my own AU? yes) that they had another sibling originally but she was killed early on. trauma for the boys.

there are loads of other mutants created by draxum, by the way. Usagi's actually one of them! he too escaped during the attack; however unlike the turtles, he was found by the Camp Half-Blood demigods and taken in. when he and the turtles first met, they both thought the others were monsters.

anyway that's the end of my yap! lmk if you have any other questions and sorry for being so longwinded lmao

-karma

[queerofcups]

wow hi!! first of all thanks for replying, genuinely. it feels very hard to start any kind of dialogue in this fandom! second of all, just to ground this, I'm definitely not trying to change your mind and you're almost certainly not gonna change mine. I made a little haha at the end of my first reply, but I really just think this is a really interesting conversation/exploration into how differently people can see the same show!

I think we maybe disagree on a couple things.

I don't think Louis is so supremely monogamous. We see him acting in nonmonogamous ways quite a bit. Their first hookup is a threesome. He chose to go and fuck Jonah when Lestat weaseled his way into an open relationship. To your very point, he actively pursued Armand while still being in love with Lestat (I dont think this is actually all that nonmonogamous of an action functionally, but intellectually, if nonmonogamy is pursuing multiple emotional and sexual relationships simultaneously, well...). Is Louis' initial pursual of Armand less real because he's still in love with Lestat?

I suppose you could argue that all of these things are different because they're sexual connections and not romantic? Which, sure, but that's still not monogamy.

I think, in fact, that we agree with that ultimately they're each others #1. I'm actually not a multi-shipper, I'm not particularly interested in watching (or reading) about them in other relationships, I just don't really understand the insistence that they must be monogamous forever, because they love each other.

Which brings me to the next core point where we seem to disagree, which is that it feels like mmm. I don't say this to cast aspersions about what you, as a person, believe, we are literally internet strangers writing fanfic about fictional characters. So I will say that this particular argument feels like one that puts eternal monogamy on a pedestal in which it is the most perfect, most ideal form of romantic love and if these characters stray from that, it must be because something is wrong and their love is invalid or not real.

I think Lestat tries to get Louis to fuck Antoinette because he loves Louis very much and wants Louis to have fun. I think Louis fucks Jonah because he wants to and also Lestat is getting on his fucking nerves and he's hurt by his lover and wants to get his lick back.

I personally don't think its actually that unbelievable to suggest that they'd open up their relationship or pursue someone else in a forever relationship? For toxic, codependent reasons and also for mundane ones. People who love each other very much open up relationships after 5 years, 12 years, etc. I don't think them fucking other people means they aren't THE OTP, you know? I think that's the part we definitely agree on lol, these idiots are obsessed with each other.

anyway, I think we're reading the show very differently, even down to the engagement with outside material. But I think that's great, actually, I'm happy to be having this chat with you.

louis and lestat wouldn’t even hesitate to walk out into the sun if the other ceased to exist and people think they would ever consider polyamory. it’s just not realistic. they invented monogamy and the soul being irrevocably tied to one other soul for eternity and beyond