#and not unimportantly

[cartoonjessie]

Matangi's tone is taunting, but Maui's confidence hasn't been broken - yet. "And you'll finish it?" she asks, hiding in the shadows. "Team up with your precious..." Suddenly she's in his ear. "...human again?" Realizing Matangi can see right through him, Maui tries to strike at her with a grunt, but she's already gone. Her laughter fills the cavern, and Maui realizes he's made a mistake by showing her he cares. Trying to bluff his way out of this situation, he replies: "Team? You mean that girl with the canoe and that goofy little chicken? We weren't a team. I just used her to get my hook." Mini Maui, not bright enough to see what Maui is doing, gets insulted on Moana's behalf, slapping him painfully in the chest, to which Maui eyes him in frustration. If only his tattoo could play along, maybe they could stop painting a larger target on Moana's back.

[abrahamvanhelsings]

of all terror lieutenants hodgson is my favourite. see first of all i adore the way he speaks bc he has a lovely voice and an accent that is very soothing. but also i love that he really is kind of a pushover who can never truly make the hard decisions (and he knows this, bc he is not the stuff a captain is made of) and has to sit on his own little tin can cuck chair at cannibalism camp dinner time bc he is essentially a hostage of his own making and he doesn't have the courage to kill a man whose disappearance would save others a lot of misery (and he knows this, but he wants to live). but then also, and you have to understand this is absolutely vital to my enjoyment, for some reason he looks exactly like he'd kill it as a fancast of czar alexander i of russia.

[eeuni]

boyfriend ❦ billie eilish.

!!! : brandon, 2019, friends to lovers, billie cheated (to brandon, deserved) a little bit of smut

2019.

billie's debut album was almost ready, there was not much left really, but something inside billie's mind told her that she needed a closing song.

she decided to put those feelings aside, stopped biting her nails slightly and looked at the phone resting in her hand. the hotel room was almost dark. she needed someone, a person to support her, especially when she didn't know what to do to finish that album. it was killing her. there were two people. her boyfriend and her best friend.

two very different paths.

her best friend was always there, she knew she was just a phone call away to come to the door and hold her like she always did. but lately she was feeling something, something more than friendship and that interrupted her comfort. she had a damn boyfriend.

Q.

billie wasn't even sure if she was in love, but she felt the need to feel him close. he was many years older than her, and billie let herself be possessed like a house in the middle of nowhere. was she stupid to love him? no, it wasn't love.

she needed him to not realize that she actually needed her best friend.

billie decided to call her.

"please answer," she whispered.

"billie?" your sweet voice answered. billie felt a warm sensation in her chest, she quickly spoke.

"can you come?"

she didn't even have to repeat it twice.

"sure."

and you arrived at her hotel room, she quickly opened the door, looking for your sweet embrace. she was surprised at how well her head fit on your chest, as if she was made for you. you noticed her low vibration, billie was feeling tired.

"is it because of him?" you asked softly, after a few minutes without speaking. you continued to caress her hair, nervous to hear billie's answer. it wasn't a word, but an action, and she nodded.

a wave of disappointment attacked your poor heart. she was still there, suffering for someone who didn't value her when you had your own heart, giving it to her. billie didn't seem to see your heart, or at least that's what you thought.

"did you call him?" you asked.

"i was about to do it, but i don't know why i called you instead." billie was lying, lying to herself. she had called you because from the beginning she always needed you.

that answer silenced you for what seemed like an eternity to billie, but you just didn't know what to say. you encouraged her to do it, to call him, to see what would happen. now billie was sitting in the small hotel couch, you by her side, holding her hand. you noticed how she didn't have a loving nickname for him but she did for you, you looked the other way, telling your ego that maybe it didn't mean anything.

billie had to wait a few seconds until he answered, he was driving.

"what do you want, babe?" Q said, almost unimportantly, speeding up.

"are you driving?"

...there was no response, just laughter. it seemed like he was in the car with other people.

"Q?" billie started to get tired. "do you hear me?"

"i'll call you later, billie." her boyfriend ended the call.

you looked intently at billie, worried about what that did to her. she threw her phone to the ground, causing the back to visibly crack. she covered her face with her hands, as if she wanted to tear it off. you quickly removed her hands from her face and she sighed.

"you finally realize he's not good for you?" you said this phrase so softly that it was clear that you were not reproaching her, but that you were truly concerned. "do you want to distract yourself, bils?" you asked something else now, it didn't seem like billie could answer the previous question with one word.

"yeah. fuck everything else." she got up from the couch. she went to the chair she used to record some things, the ones she could. "wanna help, pretty?"

pretty. made you feel weak. you nodded without saying anything, sat next to her and she showed you the demo she had, titled "goodbye"

you weren't sure what you were supposed to do, but you focused upon hearing billie's voice. your skin crawled, creating an incredibly nostalgic aura inside you. "what...what do i have to do, bils?" you asked. she let out a small laugh.

"i'm going to pass you the microphone, you have to sing in a slightly higher tone the same as me."

choirs.

when you understood what billie was trying to get at, you tried to warm up your voice a little before starting, she handed you a sheet of paper with the lyrics.

"please."

you sang.

"please."

she sang.

"don't leave me."

the song wrapped you up in a compilation of her album, which you had been able to listen to over the days. billie's moments with Q came to mind and how you were always behind them. you wanted her love, but maybe that was the prophecy, to love her from afar.

you hesitated a little to continue singing, your voice broke. you stepped away from the microphone, almost with tears in your eyes, and tried to catch your breath.

"are you okay?" billie asked, stopping recording.

"no, billie, i can't."

"but you were singing so beauti-" you cut through her words like a knife.

"i can't handle this, billie." she had that typical worried look, not understanding the reason for your sudden action.

"what are you talking about?" she sat back in the chair.

suddenly you felt small, vulnerable and like you had no words left. it always happened when you wanted to tell billie what you felt. you tried to search in your mind for something to make her understand that you couldn't stand having her as a friend, you needed to be more than just that to her.

"leave Q." was the only thing that could come out of your lips.

"what?" she opened her eyes wide.

"i love you." you said quickly, desperately. it slipped from your lips.

how stupid. you thought. you should never have opened your mouth, why couldn't you stop? you saw billie's lips part slightly, letting out a surprised sigh.

"i love you, and i don't want to." you continued.

was billie dreaming? or were you really confessing something to her that she had been waiting forever for? she was still too shocked to answer you, she needed to get her head in order.

"i love you too." billie confessed, it was the first thing that came out of her lips. "and i never wanted to date that dude but i guess i was scared."

"scared?" you looked up.

"i have never loved anyone as much as i love you." billie felt so stupid for feeling those things, for loving someone so much. still, with her she felt more...real, human, and worth it. she couldn't escape the way she loved her. she approached her dear best friend, planting her hands on her cheeks, caressing her with fear.

you were of course very touched by her words, your breathing became labored as you saw her hands on your face. "can i?" billie muttered, almost as if she were saving an oath.

"please." you whispered.

her sweet lips attacked yours so gently, as if she wanted that moment to last in her mind and soul forever. it felt like a dream, and it felt so good to finally be enjoying this. billie's hands caressed your sides, while your hands played with her hair. your legs spread a little, making billie's body fit perfectly. you gasped as you felt her hands playing with the elastic of your pants.

"billie..." you said sweetly, looking at her.

billie couldn't believe she had missed this by playing at being straighter than a rule.

that rule was flexible.

and as a final act of love (or hate towards Q) she sent him a message to end her relationship with him. she smiled, taking a picture of you.

"it's over, i'm gonna fuck my best friend"

"i correct: future wife."

2024.

your soft moans came out easily as you felt billie's fingers play with your pussy. "that's it my baby, you take me so well" billie sighed. the bathroom was small, and you couldn't make that much noise, but there you were. in the background you could hear "lunch" by your own future wife.

you were excited to know that behind that door there were thousands of fans listening to the album live, for the first time. after that, your innocent and beautiful future wife would come out to talk about "hit me hard and soft"

"i'm gonna-"

"cum, baby, cum on mommy's fingers."

and you did it, just as she told you.

i could eat that girl for lunch.

she dances on my tongue.

"such a goodgirl for me."

she winked at you, sucking her fingers to taste you between them. she locked your lips in a kiss, making you moan into her mouth.

that woman was going to be the death of you.

[nalyra-dreaming]

I keep thinking of the line 'to crush what you cannot own' and how it describes Armand's actions too - if he really did mean for Louis to die in Paris, which seems likely atp. Sacrificing Louis would punish Lestat and stabilize the coven ofc, but do you think it was also Armand ending the relationship on his own terms, once he'd realized Louis couldn't be controlled or 'owned'? Bc killing him was preferable to being abandoned? I know many think it was Loustat's love Madeleine felt in 2.06 (& it probably was!) but IMHO it wouldn't change much even if it was about Loumand. However much Louis theoretically loved Armand, he'd always love Lestat & Claudia more. Armand could never own him completely or be 100% assured of his loyalty & that was the issue. I keep seeing fans ask things like 'why did Armand do X if he loved Louis?' or 'why would they stay together if they weren't in love?' and tbh…I think some got too sucked in by Armand's 'beige pillow' persona lol. Because it's a fully calculated performance designed to disarm & control - there's a grain of truth to it, but it's still v strategic. IMHO 2.05 did a good job of peeling back the romantic facade, and the finale twist further compounded the truth, but maybe I'm off base there. Do you have any thoughts on this? (sorry if you've discussed this before, I can't keep track of the asks you get lol!)

(I don't blame you lol, it's a LOT of asks by now^^)

No, I have not talked about that aspect of it all :).

Sooooo, that "crushed" statement is rather interesting, but let me get to Armand first.

I think wrt Armand betraying Louis and Claudia there (and the show did frame it as the big betrayal, the Judas' Kiss), it has a lot to do with Armand being beyond bitter about Louis not loving him ... as he loved him.

Armand literally says that, in 2x05. Spells it out, when he talks about Claudia's love for Louis - and that it was not the same (level) as Lestat's - or his - love for Louis.

Interesting there is the tense, because it is past tense. "Loved".

I do think, (and that I said before^^), that Armand loved Louis, fell for Louis, in Paris.

Unfortunately though, Louis did not love him back the same way, and thus the betrayal happened (very simplified, but still) - and (Lestat's behavior and) Lestat saving Louis at the trial... changed the game again. Louis became something else to Armand, namely leverage, and a vessel. Something he could own and form, built on history with both Louis and Lestat.

Now the "crushed line".

THAT is a really interesting one. Because "crush" is used thrice in the show. First, when Daniel is served a dish in s1, imho rather unimportantly.

Second, when Santiago describes Louis' kill (the Dreamstat-kiss-kill) in the park:

"A mutilated body found in a park three nights ago. Crushed skull, puncture wounds on neck, chest and shoulder blade."

And third, when Lestat talks about what he did to Louis with the drop.

"I couldn't... persuade... him to return my affections. I couldn't force him to love me and so... I broke him. What is worse than that? Crushing what you cannot own?"

Now.... I always felt this monologue was a bit off, not because Lestat owns up there, or because of the words, but... "forcing Louis to love him"? I don't think it was about that between them. Given we know Armand influenced the tale, this... is one of those things that will be interesting to see IF they were influenced, but that just as a note, because yes - it describes Armand's actions, too. Sam said he left hints and crumbs, and maybe that is one, too.

The word "crush" connects Louis' desire and need for Lestat with Lestat's need and desire for Louis.

It is "crushing" for them both, a strength of emotion that almost cripples them, and makes them behave violently. This is no excuse(!) for any in-story actions, but the writers on this show are playwrights and you can be sure that they know what they're doing :))

There is a quote in the later books, which encapsulates this love for Louis (from that side at least) quite well:

"It was the love of Louis which had at times crippled Lestat, and enslaved Armand. Louis need have no consciousness of his own beauty, of his own obvious and natural charm."

I agree that Armand's beige pillow persona is parts a facade... but then again not, because Armand... is not the hurricane that is Lestat. Armand is old, and jaded, and disciplined. He lives by a strong ruleset, and that little "metronomic, my Rashid" that Louis throws at him in 1x05 makes its comeback in 2x05 when when he spells it out that he finds it boring that everything is so predictable.

Book canonically it is Daniel who changes Armand a bit (at least), who makes him break some rules and principles. And... given what we've seen so far? I think that will stay just the same. Or has already happened in parts^^.

[heretherebedork]

You know what the scene in the school where Jack left Joke to be surprised by his father cemented in me?

That the show is more interested in specific class commentary than in the commentary that the characters themselves offer about their situations.

Which is to say...

Joke's trauma is being underwritten and turned into something funny because Jack's trauma is the serious part of the show, because Jack's trauma from poverty overrules Jack's trauma from his struggles with school and with feeling like a constant scapegoat and unworthy of being loved.

Jack is allowed every trauma, he is allowed to say that he has never dreamed and that being poor means you don't dream even when he's the one who dreamed where Joke never had a thought of his own future in his mind but that wasn't important because he wasn't poor and he wasn't trapped in that way and so it doesn't matter as much ans his lack of dreams is never commented on.

Jack leaves Joke standing in front of a class full of children with a problem he can't solve and it's played as funny, as lighthearted, as if Joke on the verge of a panic attack is something that everyone should be laughing at because his trauma isn't treated as deep or serious. His father, who is the reason for most of this trauma, is sent in to rescue him and then they resolve their relationship. And... that's that! He's invited home. It's over. None of that trauma matters anymore and it was all meant to be funny, to be a joke, to be something Jack did for him... you know, humiliate him because he's bad at school. Funny.

The show is more interested in making class commentary than it is on character commentary and that's why I'm worried that Jack won't be the one to go after Joke but that Joke will have to come back again, that Joke will have to fight for them again, that it will always be Joke fighting because the show doesn't care about Joke's trauma except to solve it as quickly and unimportantly as possible so they can focus on Jack and his neighborhood.

And I'm not saying Jack doesn't have trauma or that commenting about that is wrong or that class commentary is wrong but what I am saying is that Moonlight Chicken did it better and deeper and faced down the fact that trauma happens no matter how much money you have and that trauma might be different depending on class but it's all still trauma all the way down.

Jack has his trauma but so does Joke but the show doesn't care about Joke's trauma because they want to make a commentary on classism and class issues and that means that Joke's issues can never be as bad or as important as Jack's because he's not part of the commentary or at least he wasn't. Now he is and so his new trauma is allowed but the old things? They have to just... stop.

I am struggling with this a lot so I'm making this post to get words and thoughts out. This doesn't mean I hate the show or the characters or the creators or even that I'm not enjoying it! This is just a specific aspect of the show itself and an ongoing issue in Thai B: that has frustrated me for a while tbh because it's so often that they can only honor the trauma of one of the characters in a relationship so the other gets brushed aside (see also: Mhok of Last Twilight).

I also really think that if the show had been more invested in the specific struggles of the characters we could have gotten even more painful social commentary about Rose's trying to help that never does and Jack's struggles with failed dreams and Hoy and Tattoo being trapped where they are and Aran arriving and just so much that would have been just as interesting as The One Ring of Crime.

[radiant-reid]

The Right Person

request:

things spencer would say to his ex who’s his ex but not really his ex bc their hearts always belong to the other but is actually his ex bc they called it quits but just bc it’s over doesn’t mean it’s really over cuz he’s just: last slide

Summary: Right person, wrong time... at least until there's a part two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst, sort of)

Content Warning: a tiny spicy moment

Word Count: 3.3k

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Spencer has always jumped into things too quickly. It's the cocktail of being a romantic, coming from a broken home, failing with most social relationships, and the desperate need for a family.

So when Y/n came along, all smiles and beauty, he moved too fast. Fell is probably a more accurate verb. He fell in love so quickly without any logic that he couldn't help proposing a year in and marrying her six months later.

She offered him support and unconditional love. And for the first time in a tough five years in the FBI, he felt like the world wasn't completely terrible.

The whirlwind relationship would have been much better if taken slowly. It might have even worked out. With their fast pace, neither of them could keep up and after four years, trying to make it work wasn't worth it. The therapy, fights, and long periods without speaking wasted time and drained them both emotionally.

It was like fire. Hot and heavy or warm and comforting, but they were destined for a burn.

Sure, they loved each other more than anything, and they would forever argue that they're soulmates and the timing was at fault.

When Beatrice was nine months old, it was clear things wouldn't, so for her sake, Spencer moved out, the fighting stopped, and they could be friends.

For three months, they've been doing well with their co-parenting routine. Since Spencer had spent so much time away during their marriage, Y/n didn't have to get over the feeling of loss.

Maybe some of that could be accounted for by the fact it still felt like they were dating, the magnetism between them still volatile.

It's Saturday when Y/n's baking in the kitchen. She's yet to enquire about selling it, probably because they're yet to properly get divorced. Somehow, it doesn't feel weird for her to live in their marital home. She ignores how little it feels like they're broken up, especially when she's eagerly anticipating him coming home back from a case. He's not even coming to see her, but she's changed out of her pajamas and put makeup on.

"Guess who?" A voice says while the matching fingers block her vision.

If she didn't know that voice like the back of her hand, she would have freaked out. "You're so close to losing your key, Spencer Walter Reid."

He pulls his hands away, resting his back against the bench with his body facing her. "Boring answer. I would have accepted sexy ex or the smartest man alive." He says, smiling his perfect wide smile.

He looks good, a golden glow still surrounding him, and his shirt fits him tightly around his muscles. She's allowed to say that as his eventual ex-wife, right? It's more of a compliment to herself for attracting attractive, intelligent men. That's how she justifies it anyway.

"Who's been inflating your ego, loser?" She teases.

Repartee of their level is something no one else could ever offer him, and he cringes when other people try. "Jealous?" He asks.

Yes, she is. She'd love to shower him with compliments. Tell him about how nice his hair looks a little bit longer, how he should wear more light blue because it really is his color, how good he smells, and some less innocent things as well. The jealousy boils in her at the thought of someone else doing that. Still, she resists.

"That someone else has to vacate the bathroom for hours each day so you can do your hair? No." She lies. It's a lie on all levels.

Unimportantly, he doesn't spend that long in the bathroom, and he's about the furthest thing from a narcissist there is, but deeply, she would jump at the opportunity to be locked out of the bathroom while he spends far too long in the shower and be greeted with the gorgeous sight of a towel wrapped around his hips and his chest showing.

"Okay." He lets it go, and it annoys her that he won't believe the time. "Can I have some cookie dough?"

"Say please." She directs.

He pouts too much like Beatrice. "Please." He complies before opening her mouth.

She frowns, unsure if he seriously wants her to hand-feed him cookie dough. The answer is yes because he doesn't shut his mouth and tell her it's a joke. She scoops some up, putting her fingers into his mouth. He doesn't let them sneak out without wrapping his lips. It's suggestive, and it doesn't disgust her.

"You'll get salmonella." She tells him when he finally lets her fingers out of his mouth. She tries not to blush like mad while she wipes her fingers on a kitchen towel.

"You'll have to look after me then," Spencer says, justifying it. "As the person who gave it to me."

She shakes her head. "Gross."

"Why are you baking on a Saturday?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her. He's suspicious whenever things change in her behavior, more so than anyone else's.

"I'm anticipating being busy tomorrow." She answers ambiguously.

It was on purpose, but the goal wasn't to make him curious and ask more questions. She just wasn't jumping at the opportunity to hear his opinion on her love life.

Unfortunately, his curiosity peaked when she started speaking. "Why?" She mumbles out an answer that he doesn't catch. "Come on, don't be shy."

"I'm going on a date." She says finally, avoiding looking at him.

That knocks him off guard, the smile slipping from his face as he steps back. Quickly, he forces himself to say something recoverable to hide the hurt and shock he's feeling at the unexpected news. "Does he know you're married?"

He knows he has no right to be upset about it. Not only are they not exclusive, but they're, in no way, romantically involved. It's why there's no bite in his words, nothing vicious in his tone.

It hits him harder with every passing second. Her statement is something he never expected, and questioning why that is while standing in the middle of their kitchen with her in a beautiful new top, yeah, it's gut-wrenching.

She holds up her bare left hand, shed of a wedding ring. "He doesn't, no."

"What's his name?" Spencer asks next. There are a million questions on his mind, but he keeps the conversation casual.

"Bradley."

She feels guilty for it, unsure if it's cheating guilt or mom guilt, and she's forced to constantly remind herself that it's okay, she's allowed to say yes when she gets asked out and be swept away by someone else.

His next move, to her, seems predictable. Whenever he's looking for more information, he stays quiet, waiting for her to feel awkward enough to elaborate. Even though she used to read him like an open book, she can't see that he's processing, replaying their worst moments-the moments that led them here- in his head.

She keeps talking, annoyed that his old trick is working when really she's just breaking his heart more. "He's a defense attorney, but he accidentally took my coffee the other day."

Spencer resists the urge to scoff because 'accidentally.' He's seen Morgan use the move a hundred times: pretend to mix up the coffees, apologize, and seal the deal by asking if he can make it up to her. "Switching teams, I see." He interrupts, predominantly so that he doesn't have to hear anything else. "And a new top." He mentions. Again, a tactic to get her to stop talking. "What color is it? It would look really nice as a feature wallpaper."

He does that, too, only complimenting things adjacent to her. Talking about fucking interior design instead of just saying she looks nice pushes her buttons, and she knows where his are.

"Yeah, I was wearing a jacket in a similar color, so I'm hoping it's a subliminal message." She admits. "Plus he's tall and very attractive.”

Spencer wants to scream something along the lines of 'I'm 6'1, I have three PhDs, you've told me I'm handsome after you held my hair up while I puked after drinking far too much, and I'm so goddamn in love with you,' but he can barely admit the last fact to himself.

"So he's got brown curly hair and sparkling brown eyes?" Spencer teases her, and she rolls her eyes. That dumb eidetic memory would never let him forget the descriptors she'd given him, and his cocky attitude would never stop mentioning it. "It's not your fault you have a type. Scientifically-"

"Shh." She requests, pressing her finger to his lips.

Without thinking about it, like it was second nature, Spencer purses his lips and kisses her skin. After letting it linger for a moment, she takes it away and turns back to what she's doing.

Again, he draws her attention back to him, cupping the cheek furthest away from him and turning her face to look at him. Once she is, eyes locked on his, he holds her other cheek. He steps forward so that he's so close to her that her breath gets trapped in her throat.

Those fingers on her skin make her feel things she shouldn't be feeling, and her heart starts to thump in her chest when she sneaks a glance at those beautiful veins. Maybe her skin is hot or maybe his fingers are just cold but the contrast sends shivers all over her. It's hard not to think about all the times they've been inside her or how they look wrapped around his cock as he lines himself up with her sex.

"Y/n, if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god." He says threateningly, and it would worry her if she didn't know him so well and if it wasn't so hot.

"You don't believe in god." She calls him out, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

"I can find anyone, anywhere." She can't debate that. "And if he lays a hand on you, I'll kill him or put him in jail for the rest of his life. Your choice."

He's acting like he's doing her a favor, letting her decide how he'll hurt someone who hurts her. It's an odd declaration to be making, contradictory to every bit of his sweet nature, and she doesn't hate it.

"What if I ask- beg for it?" She questions him.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that." He's really not.

He would do immoral things that would make him lose his job and even go to jail if someone hurt her, but the deep feelings he's disgusting as an overprotective bravado against someone assaulting her is really just because he can't stand the thought of someone else being with her.

He's not worried about it sexually. She might be anticipating not being home for the night, but she's not the type to ask a first date to get rough with her. What's got him on edge is her being someone else's emotionally. They might be telling everyone they're not together, but if her heart belongs to someone else, there's no chance of him getting her back, and that's all he wants.

His lips are so close that she could kiss him, but the magnetism makes it challenging to resist. She yearns for the feeling of warm lips against hers, more specifically, the pretty pink ones she's peeking at.

They've had slips before. It's been three weeks since their last one. Every time, she swears she won't do it again, but she's ready to tear his clothes off and fuck him in the kitchen.

She's daring him to make that dangerous leap, and he's about to.

The cries of a woken-up one-year-old through the baby monitor snap them back into a harsh reality before their lips can touch. They both wonder if it's horrid that they forgot why he's there. Spencer lingers for a moment with her face in his hands before he breaks away from her painfully.

"I'll go." He says, leaving her standing there stunned with cheeks hot and a pounding heart.

She has a moment to recover, but it's not enough, and soon Spencer's back in the room with the sweetest baby in his arms. She's giggling, clinging to her dad, who she loves dearly. If Y/n didn't love Beatrice wholeheartedly, she'd be jealous she wasn't enough for Spencer to spend time with. But she can't be. Not when Bea has the greatest dad in the entire world, and she deserves every inch of his love.

"Kiss momma." Spencer directs, holding her up to Y/n's cheek.

She plants a kiss that's mostly saliva on her mom, and despite how messy it is, it makes Y/n grin. "How'd you sleep, baby?" She asks, knowing they'll be no reply. Her vocabulary is limited to three words: mom, dad, and love.

"Not so well last night," Spencer answers like it was intended for him.

He sits on a bar stool at the kitchen island, sitting Bea in his lap. "Spencer," Y/n warns, glaring at him.

"Your mom's mad at me." He stage-whispers to Bea. "I never know why."

"Should we start with lying to a child?" She wonders, but it's playful, not insulting. "Add in some pesky comments."

Spencer pouts, holding Bea up so she can see it and copy her father. "Oh, she loves them." He assures her. "And I love you. So much."

Y/n smiles in adoration. He might be difficult to be in love with, but he's the best dad ever. Spencer catches her staring, it's pretty obvious when the bowl of cookie dough sits abandoned on the counter.

"You look so similar." She says, trying to prevent the awkward since and slightly too romantic looks.

"Need another one to look like you?" He jokes, or maybe it's an offer. She can't really tell.

She scoffs, shaking her head. "I'm alright, thanks."

"But she's so perfect." He coos, her entire hand holding his pinky finger. "How could you not want another one?"

She chuckles at his baby fever. It is practically impossible to not want another child when theirs is so incredible, but they're only masochistic towards each other.

"Don't go getting random girls pregnant, Spencer." She jokingly advises him.

“I’m only ever going to get one girl pregnant.” He tells her.

He’s messy. In fact, they’re messy together, and he can’t keep his dick in his pants, but it’s not a problem he has with anyone else.

"That's possibly very nice." She says, frowning as she tries to figure him out.

"You're lucky." He rephrases.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're lucky I don't kick you out now."

"Whoa, I get it." He teases. "It's someone's time to get lucky, hang a sock on the door and all that."

"I highly doubt you got any in college." She reminds him.

"Or now." He adds.

It should be weird. Who casually discusses sex with an ex?

"Yeah, I noticed one of your hands seems stronger than the other." She quips, although there's no discernable difference. They're both equally delicious.

"Mm, reminds me, I need more lotion." He mentions, playing along with the joke. "Vanilla, right?"

She fake-gags. "That's literally disgusting." She chides. "Do not go and get the same lotion I have to jack off."

He shrugs casually. "It's a free country."

"You're disturbing." She reiterates, reminding herself he said it to get her flustered.

"Don't flirt with me like that, or I might start thinking you like me." He warns, fluttering his eyelids at her.

She does feel like she's falling in love all over again with him when it's all flirting and comfortable.

"You'd be begging if I was flirting." She assures him, and it's true. Spencer begs like no one else.

"Alright, I think that's time to go." He decides, clicking his tongue and looking at Bea again. "Your mom's too into me for her own good."

That is hitting the nail on the head. She's into him and she always will be, but it's not wise, and it compromises her self-respect time and time again.

He gets up, bouncing Bea on his hip and walking around the bench. She leans forward to kiss her happy baby before playing with her soft hair. "Just admit you lost, Spencer." She tells him.

A little grin lights up his features as he refuses to comply with her directions. "I never lose." Oh, except for his one true chance at happiness and a family with the most remarkable woman in the world.

"Those beautiful big brains." She coos, moving her hand to his hair to part his curls properly.

"I'm sure yours are equally, if not more, beautiful." He says, once again making her stomach slip with the eye contact. "Smaller of course."

She scoffs out a laugh. "Bye." She says. "Her bag's in the hall."

"When do you want her back?" Spencer asks, holding the baby up so her cheeks can be kissed an obscene amount of time.

Their custody arrangement is nonexistent. With Spencer's hectic schedule and their good relationship, there's never been a need to make it official. Bea's always his priority when he's in the District, and that keeps Y/n happy.

Not fully happy. She'd like to see Bea, and her dad, every day, and she's too far from that with the latter Reid to ever be completely satisfied with her life. Months later, she's still convincing herself she can one day not look at him and wish for something unrealistic.

"Whenever." She says. They start walking towards the front door, slowly, both lingering and dragging it out. "If you need to go, you can bring her back."

"If you're in the middle of a date?" He wonders cheekily, grabbing Bea's bag from the floor.

She glares at him, not finished with her sentence. "Otherwise, I'll text you."

"Call." He insists. "We're not texting people."

"Fine." She agrees, swinging open the door. She takes Bea into her arms, giving her a tight hug. "Love you, sweet baby."

"Mom, love," Bea mumbles back, placing her hands on Y/n's cheeks.

Spencer gets the sinking feeling in his chest that he always gets leaving, but it's worse when he's taking Bea, who's Y/n's entire world. It makes him feel nauseating amounts of guilt. How can he be okay with putting her through the loneliness of a house that big being empty?

He smiles at her as he takes Bea back. "Thank you."

She not sure what for and she doesn't have a chance to ask before he's walking out the door, strapping Bea in her car seat. She waves at her mom, looking as happy as always.

Spencer stops before he gets in his seat. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" She asks, straightening up her posture.

She's hoping he'll say what she wants to hear, although she doesn't know what that is. A Spencer fact would keep things simple, but saying something about how they can get back on track, that she shouldn't go out tonight, would ruin their carefully stacked house of cards.

"He's a lucky guy." He says, and it kills him to know that it used to be him taking her out, watching her grin from across the table, making her laugh until she's begging him to stop, driving home with his hand on her thigh, watching her take off her makeup and become more beautiful, and ending up cuddling in bed, their baby just a room over.

And he can't ever have that again, not with her, and he can't fathom it with someone else.

Y/n goes back inside once he's driven away, hoping for once, after he leaves, that she can not think about him.

It doesn't work. As always, she's stuck thinking about Spencer.

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[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Okay, this idea has been procrastinating in the recesses of my mind for a very long time, but I finally got it out of there and now well yeah

Terribly yandere cookies with a reader who is a master of escape. Like, they can escape from just about anything at all, every damn crazy (and not unimportantly WORKABLE) way they want, and then go back to their ordinary life.

Thanks for your time, have a good day!!!

「 ✦ 🐋 anon ✦ 」

For some Cookies, it's a bit of a nusciance, but nothing that they can't overcome. It's just another way of proving their devotion to you, to showing that you belong to them and them only.

But for others? They enjoy the hunt, and they live for it. They wait for when you finally break free, they give you that headstart, and they make their way towards you. It's a game to them, with how they track you down and stalk you.

They live for the challenge, for what it can pose.

They live to prove to you that they deserve to covet you and you alone.

[psychicspacesquid]

One death is a comedy, a million a statistic

I'm having thoughts about the killing of the UnitedHealthcare CEO, because it brings into focus the contrast between different types of violence. On one hand, there's the violence of shooting a man in the streets. On the other, there's the systemic violence of many, many people dying from the negligence of health insurance companies. Is shooting someone who has indirectly caused untold deaths justice? What should we do instead if it isn't? And, not unimportantly, should we feel bad about rejoicing that this has happened?

I: Systemic violence

So here's the rub: the CEO undeniably had a lot of blood on his hands. He would otherwise never have seen justice for it, because systemic violence isn't punished, it's treated as a fact of life in the way deaths and injuries due to natural disasters or accidents are. The nature of systemic violence is that no one person is wholly responsible for the violence taking place. Make no mistake, this is intentionally so, because those in power benefit from nobody being responsible. Therefore, we can't put a number on how much blood is on the CEO's hands.

The fact that nobody is responsible is due to two factors. The first is simply that organisations like a health insurance company are structured in a way to avoid personal responsibility. If a claim is denied and leads to someone's death, there's not a single person who pushed the button that lead to that person dying. It's a complex web of bureaucracy and management that absolves any one person working there of the blame. The CEO can thus wash his hands, because he has never seen the claim in his life, it was a dozen employees and their managers who processed it.

Second, a death due to systemic violence is rarely due to even one organization in the system. Say, for instance, someone died of complications of diabetes. The person in this example had insurance, but worked for a job that did not pay enough and was reliant on food stamps. Her claim for insulin gets denied, but with food stamps she can make ends meet. However, her food stamps get cut off, she has to choose between insulin and food, and she dies due to not being able to choose insulin. Now which organisation is responsible? Her health insurance for denying her insulin? Her government for cutting off her food stamps? Her employer for underpaying her? In a sense, all are, and therefore, nobody is responsible. Therefore, we can't put a number on the amount of people the CEO of UnitedHealthcare has indirectly killed. Depending on your definitions it's anywhere from zero to many, many, many thousands. Such is the nature of systemic violence.

Now we run into another issue: systemic violence is still violence. The many thousands of people who died due to their healthcare being denied are just as dead as the CEO who got shot. In a purely utilitarian calculus sense killing thousands is undeniably worse than killing one person. That's an important justification for being in favor of the shooter going free or even cheering them on: after all, why should the shooter, who did a lesser crime causing only one specifically chosen death, face justice, when the CEO who indiscriminately albeit indirectly caused thousands of deaths was never going to face justice and even be rewarded for doing so?

II: Retribution

However, there is another factor that's deeper, more primeval and more emotional. It, for many people, feels good that something bad has happened to someone who did bad things but was never going to face consequences otherwise. It feels like sweet revenge. It feels like justice. But is it justice?

In a retributive sense, it is. Under retributive justice, justice is conceptualized as a settling of the scores. If you did something bad, something bad should happen to you. If you got something in a dishonest manner, you should pay that back plus reparations. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth. You caused a death, now you must die.

One appealing feature of retributive justice is that it feels good. We love seeing bad things happen to bad people. That's why this feels like an action movie: the appeal of seeing the villain defeated at the end of the movie is the catharsis of seeing a bad person get what they deserve.

The big downside of retributive justice is that it, in many cases, does not solve the issue at hand. Killing the CEO of a health insurance company does not bring those killed by their negligence back, it does not install a mythical nonexistent "good CEO", it does not automatically change their policy to a better one.

Real, restorative justice, on the other hand, is slow, complex, and not achievable in the short or even medium long term. Justice has in this case, arguably, been achieved, when people no longer die or are otherwise harmed due to the negligence of health insurance companies and those still living that have been harmed by their negligence have been properly reimbursed. Achieving justice would involve completely overhauling the US healthcare system, reworking the entire US social safety net, and restructuring worldwide economic systems that are prerequisite for this injustice to take place. This is not a task achievable by a single human, and we can find ourselves completely crushed under this project if we chase after this impossible goal alone.

III: Justice

Then what are we to do if justice, not retributive justice where those who have done bad are punished but restorative justice where those harmed get made whole again and future harm is prevented, seems out of reach? Is retributive justice then a suitable substitute?

Normally, I would say no. In many cases, retributive justice just leads to more violence. An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind. However, in this case the violence is wildly disproportionate. To stretch the metaphor, it's not individuals that have been gouging out eyes in a chain of violent acts. It's one large conglommerate that has left everyone without eyes, and one of those blinded has finally decided to take a single eye. This amount of violence is a drop in the bucket. Even if this incident were to happen to every major health insurance company CEO in the US that would be a few dozen deaths tops depending on where we draw the cutoff for "major company" versus thousands upon thousands.

However, for this to be retributive justice instead of just retribution, some step towards true restorative justice has to follow from the violence. Political violence is useful as a tool, but only if it's well-thought out and goal-oriented. Smashing without a plan, however cathartic it might be to smash, leads to all sorts of nasty consequences without any payoff to counter-balance those consequences. Political violence cannot be the only tool in the toolbox and should not be pulled out lightly. Political violence should be a surgical tool, not a baseball bat.

We do not know the shooter's motives at this moment in time, and we can only speculate. However, it's extremely likely that this is an action that was extremely well pre-meditated. We can only speculate whether this was indeed political violence with a specific goal in mind. Time will also have to tell whether any positive consequence will follow from this.

IV: Virtue

Now for the big question: should we feel bad about any of this? Should we feel bad about rejoicing? Here, the utilitarian calculus is less useful. Instead, I want to turn to virtue ethics. In my personal view, virtue ethics is not particularly useful in determining which action is the right one. However, it has useful insights into the process of actually doing the right thing when you know what the right thing is.

Under virtue ethics, morality is like a muscle you need to train. You don't always do the right thing, but you learn and get better at being a moral person. Part of that is that we have the correct emotional responses to justice and injustice. This isn't as simple as feeling good when good things happen and feeling bad when bad things happen. Appropriate moral emotions can be extremely complex. For instance, regret even when you know you did the right thing can be an appropriate moral emotion because it means you are seeing the moral complexities of your actions.

Now is the positive feeling that the CEO who got shot got what he deserved you might be experiencing an appropriate moral emotion? I want to cautiously say yes, with some major caveats. The reason rejoicing at his death is appropriate is because it refocuses however we might be feeling about the (relatively minor, death toll 1) violence of the shooting to the (major, death toll many) systemic violence caused by the negligence of health insurance companies. This emotion, especially on a societal scale, might be the impetus needed to focus the conversation on the systemic injustices that otherwise don't emotionally resonate: one death is a comedy, a million a statistic.

However, this emotion needs to be kept in check. Positive emotions about the deaths of other humans are incredibly, incredibly dangerous. They are part of the engine behind dehumanization and the tragedies that follow dehumanization. As much as we would like to think of CEOs as Not People, if we do not think of them as people we cease to understand them properly and the violence perpetuated by those at the head of companies becomes something mystical and demonic instead of something done ultimately by human hands. It's what leads people chanting "eat the rich" at doctors and movie stars instead of, you know, the wealthy.

I want to argue that the correct emotion to keep our enjoyment at someone's death in check is to feel just a little conflicted about it. Yes, we should celebrate because it re-focuses the conversation on the systemic violence that really matters. But we also should look at each other and grin and giggle uncomfortably and whisper "should we really be doing this?"

Either way, it's the release weekend for Wicked where I live, so: Good news, he's dead.

[namu-the-orca]

SALMONIDS of ALASKA The bane of my existence for the entirety of 2020 and part of 2021: the salmon poster. You've seen the separate illustrations, but now, finally, here is the full thing.

This entire project was a journey. I had never illustrated fish before, let alone in this much detail. I have retained an appropriate hatred of scales and fin rays from this project. But also a persistent joy from having created these illustrations, and appreciation for what beautiful animals these salmon are. Putting together the poster, making all elements fit together and - not unimportantly - making the poster fit its allotted space on the wall was an additional endeavour.

It is currently displayed aboard the David B, the vessel of Northwest Navigation who commissioned this piece. If you're interested in having a copy of your own, you can contact them. For now I hope you enjoy reading this (if you open the image in a separate tab, I made it big enough to read) - and mayhaps learn something new about the intriguing world of salmon! I certainly did.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #06 & #05

06. SWEDEN Loreen - "Tattoo" 1st place

Decade Ranking: 19/116 [above Halo, below Adrenalina]

Alright, fine, we've arrived at Loreen. There are plenty of conflicting emotions swirling around in my head, but overall, yeah, you know how I feel about her. It hasn't changed. She's very good, but I'm not obsessed with her. This is where those entries rank.

Let's tackle the elephant in the room: Tattoo is a good song and a boring, uninspiring winner. The two aren't mutually exclusive. Loreen's victory was determined the second she won Melfest, by default. It was unsatisfactory for two reasons:

(1) The moment Loreen was picked the casuals that remembered "Euphoria" immediately started praising her while ignoring everyone else, and this of course snowballed into the biggest jury coronation since Salvador. Lol that the same casuals that were obsessed with Tattoo preshow became upset when she beat Käärijä. What else did you think was going to happen? it was YOU who kept touting her as the best without giving as much as dismissive look at her competition, of course the Eye of Sauron was fixated on her and no one else.

(2) Käärijä. For better or for worse, this year will be remembered as the year Cha Cha Cha was robbed by the juries for the sake of Sweden. Käärijä was not without his own set of problems which directly led to his demise (which we'll tackle when we get to him because this post is about Loreen), but he WAS the year and it was his loss specifically that left a bad aftertaste in many mouths. It's always better when the underdog beats the overdog, and not the other way around.

Once the dust settled, everyone pledged fealty to the crazyparty Fin while "Tattoo" was quickly replaced as the basic gay anthem by "Padam Padam".

However, neither of those things are particularly Loreen's fault?

What I can ascertain is that Tattoo is not Euphoria, obviously. A lot of the love for Tattoo was spillover Euphoria nostalgia. That's fine, but I meant their thematic differences went understated - Euphoria was an ode to the eternity of love, while Tattoo specifically is about the love fracturing apart and Loreen's inabilty to move on - in other words "Euphoria" was a victory, while "Tattoo" always felt like more of a defeat. It's a subtle difference, but one that should always lead to Euphoria being ranked AHEAD of Tattoo, jesus christ ESC250 voters.

However, this is still Loreen, and a lesser Loreen is still lowkey epic. Eventhough "Tattoo" is probably the least good Loreen song, (technically because it's a Cazzi Opeia song with a Loreen sound - "You're stuck on me like a tatoo-oo-oo that is a Cazzi hook if ever there was), it is still a good song. Loreen proved although she's now at an age where her memory is starting to fail her, forgetting essentials such as clipping her fingernails and paying her taxes, she still has the attitude and flat stomach of a cougar ready to pounce. All credits for Tattoo's successes belong to her, SJB and no one else.

And, not unimportantly in a audio-visual medium such as Eurovision, Tattoo also looked really good on the stage. It had A Vision, which is what every winner needs nowadays. Again, the staging is great but also... not that grat lol - it's not the best staging ever. It's not better than Euphoria's or even Vesna's that we'll talk about later. Nevertheless, the song was beautifully framed under the confined space of that impromptu photocopier and Loreen's choreography. The staging was dynamic, artistic and gave the impression real stakes were involved. It Understood The Assignment. It made the song *pop*.

I specifically really LOVE the wide shot during the bridge that really anchors the devastation and desolation she sings about.

It's one of those money shots linger in your mind after the song has ended.

So overall, yeah, Loreen is not my winner or even a top fiver for me, but oh well, whatever? She was a dull winner compared to Käärijä but not an undeserving one. She's still a solid eight-and-a-half out of ten. She alone provided the triple threat of Good composition, Stunning Act and Killer Execution, so ofc juries flocked to her if they're instructed to assess the overal package. If you still think they robbed Käärijä (they did not.) remember that Loreen was solidly second in nearly every televote behind him. If he were destined to always lose Eurovision 2023 like I now believe he was, it's definitely only Loreen who should have taken the W here.

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

05. AUSTRALIA Voyager - "Promise" 9th place

Decade Ranking: 17/116 [Above Adrenalina, below Manizha]

Sometimes the reason is "I like music." Many were surprised Voyager came top 10, but not I. To repeat a common question one final time:

HAVE YOU HEARD THE SONG?!?

Well-executed ProgMetal, at Eurovision! By a charismatic lead! Of course it was going to get a good chunk of jury votes from a group of people that know more music beyond what gets radio airplay. As Danny sings, if you haven't done anything like this before, you haven't been alive, sillies!

Going into the contest though, I wasn't fully sure Australia would grab the top 10 I envisioned for them. Like sure, I saw the vision. But my predictions come from Antwerp, not Delphi and the visions I see don't always come to pass. Voyager were hit the hardest by the fandom's latent misandry for daring to be men (+ Simone). Then again, if the fandom got their way, "Padam Padam" would win every year (lol can you imagine what a nightmare that meta would be? especially because "Padam Padam" isn't even that good to begin with) and not songs that are effectively Synthwave with Metal instrumentation. This is a combo that leads to immersive moodpieces, and not the high energy spikes you might expect from metal.

But what this blog if not for its appreciation for moodpieces and what was "Promise" if not A Mood immortalized by Voyager into An Experience. Danny playing the keytar on the bonnet of his delorean, or nearly choking on a chicken sandwich while getting 12 Portuguese points, THOSE are MY little joys in life.

Everything on stage suits a wholesome song about ~promising your loved ones you're in this life's adventure together, ride or die~, which as a message hits home even harder since Danny's cancer diagonosis (not like this affected their placement here - Australia were coming 5th on this ranking since the beginning).

And let's be honest, "Promise" is a just really good song that doesn't need frills or embellishments, but it got those anyway with everyone's fun adlibs.

It's like S10 or MARO, not the flashiest entry nor the most iconic staging, but never the less, the personality came through well enough to merit revisitations when I have a craving for it. Besides, we need a diverse array of genres at Eurovision, to ensure the bar remains high and we don't get a year full of Liars and Firefighters. "Promise" defo fit that bill well. It was good to have A Real Song into the mix, and one that was very deservedly was rewarded with a top ten placement.

If you think that a bad result, then that's fine. I agree with you, but mostly because I think Australia should have come top five and were robbed by the televote. 🙂

THE RANKING

[musette22]

Can you please write the entire script for the cold war play from your recent evanstan fic? I'm obsessed with it, and with the idea of our boys doing this play. Is there anything else you can tell us about the characters? Also thank you for your wonderful posts, they always brighten my day 😁

Honey!!! Apologies for taking a while to reply to this, I've been having a hard time comcentrating these past few days so I lept being like, I'll get to this when I can think again and give a proper answer 🙈 But let me just say: thank you for this lovely lovely message, it's such a compliment to know you liked that story within a story! 🥰 I very much enjoyed cooking that one up too, so I'm very happy you liked it so much! Oh man, I would also absolutely LOVE to see our boys do something like that together on Broadway, I think they'd absolutely kill a period play (and, not unimportantly, we'd get to see them kiss 😭). If they'd want to, they should let me know and I'd be more than happy to write that entire script for them 😂

As for the characters and what more I can tell you about them: I'm afraid there's not all that much, as I focused on Evanstan's story more than Piotr and Henry's (Hiotr? Pienry?) story in this fic. But I can say that I imagined Henry as someone who is outspoken and very present, not afraid to speak his mind or take risks (unless of course it comes to love, then he is more careful), while Piotr is more inclined to observe from a distance and fully form his opinions before sharing them, and generally more reserved (unless it comes to Henry, whom, after they get together, he opens up to completely).

I also believe they were both very, constantly, aware of the possibility of getting caught and sentenced at some point, but they never discussed it out loud. There was an unspoken agreement between them that if they didn't talk about it, it didn't exist, and unfortunately, that also made them more reckless than they would've probably been if they'd dicussed the risks and worked out ways to minimise them. But ultimately, they were just too caught up in their new, fierce love, unwilling or unable to compromise on that love even a little bit, and that proved to be their downfall in the end. But at least they both knew they had loved with everything they had, and that, they could never regret.

Aaahhh now I've made myself sad 😭 But still, thank you so much for your message, lovely! It means a lot, and so does the fact that you enjoy my posts! Thank you!! 💗🫶🏼🌟

[optimistic-hotdog]

Spirituality without belief: a start and introduction

Introduction

In this post I will be explaining my thoughts on spirituality without belief. I am referring to a spirituality that is not dependent on any supernatural belief and can be lived by anyone, including naturalists like myself. I will be talking about what this spirituality entails and how we can live it.

What is the goal of a secular spirituality?

The goal of a secular spirituality is not singular. On the one hand, we seek to be more in touch with our subconscious. We seek to know what’s going on behind our conscious mind, to become aware of our biases and needs, and to remove the things that are subconsciously holding us back.

We also try to fall in love with life. Loving life to me is a very clear way to become happier. But it is far from easy. It involves a deeper appreciation for things we might take for granted, an acceptance of our struggles and suffering, and participating in the world through deeply experiencing it, and through acting in it.

Lastly, but not unimportantly, we try to gain some peace of mind.

Appreciation

One key spiritual practice for me is appreciation. It consists simply of appreciating things we enjoy, especially those things we might take for granted. This can be anything from fully appreciating a cup of tea, like the whole universe revolves around it for a moment, like nothing else matters, to worship (the expression of deep love and reverence) for things like the sun, the moon, nature, beauty, creativity, things we can all agree are worth our love and reverence, even if they aren’t conscious beings.

We can worship the sun for the light she brings us, thank her for it, love her for it, even if she doesn’t respond to it. We don’t do this because she might shine brighter on us if we appease her, but because it helps us appreciate her golden rays more, and does her shine not feel brighter and warmer then? Why would realizing the sun is a flaming ball of gas take away any of her beauty, light and warmth, and any of our love and honor for her? Supernatural belief is not necessary for worship.

The practice of emotion

A lot of spiritual practices can be seen as the practice of emotion. Worship is the practice of adoration, prayer the practice of hope or desire. It is heplful to practice these strong emotions, whether it is to strengthen them or just to get them “out there”.

Instead of praying for someone, we might just hope for them. And then we can still light candles when someone has an exam, or is undergoing treatment, say this hope out loud or write it down, burn incense for it, offer sacrifices for it, even if no one is listening, we can express and practice our hope.

When we feel a strong emotion, like joy, hope, love, or fear. It is good to see how we can make this into a ritual of sorts so we can express it. To practice joy we might dance or sing praises of the thing we are happy about, when we are scared we might say this fear out loud and light a candle and when we love something we might offer it a sacrifice.

[besttropeveershowdown]

The Best Trope Ever Showdown: Round 4, Side B

Chekhov's Gunman

No propaganda was submitted.

Gentle Giant

Propaganda:

It's fun and very sweet

[moonbreeze19]

we were too close to the stars i never knew somebody like you, somebody falling just as hard - reflections

alarin tumblr debut?? for tsme week?? i think so i think yes! u can consider this a late day 6 post or day 7 i suppose, whatever u prefer!

(in summary: my oc, rin, and alain, have lived in my head rent free for 3 years now. they mean the world to me. i love them. to me, they are THE it couple <3)

details/about them below the break

rin yukino is a hyper competitive trainer with a (shiny) mega gardevoir, goal focused and independent to the point of flaw. born and raised in kalos, but with family from sinnoh, she had spent much of her childhood fitting into her parent's mold for a perfect daughter. she was a straight-a student, principal violinist, preparing to attend a top university - at 18, she realized that wasn't who she wanted to be anymore. she became a pokemon trainer instead.

(somewhat unimportantly, her usual trainer design consists of teal highlights in her hair, orange earrings shaped like the heart that goes through a mega gardevoir's chest, and a lot of black and gray. she matches diva, her gardevoir, like alain matches his charizard. they're both extra like that.)

she meets alain viard when they're both 22, shortly after the events of TSME act 4. she's on the gym challenge, and he's... alain. they battle, and he wins. twice in a row. then they go from rivals to rivals with benefits, then maybe even friends if they weren't both so emotionally reclusive i mean haha what-

alarin, aka rin "i'm stronger on my own" yukino and alain "i only destroy those around me" viard

even if he's won both times, alain can't help but be attracted one of the few people who can keep up with him, who cares about winning nearly as much as he does, who treats pokemon battling like it's all she has. he knows the feeling. he thinks she might understand him.

she's half of the reason behind both his decision to fill out his team beyond charizard and his decision to challenge the gyms

when they fall apart, just a month before the team flare crisis, i like to think of them like a supernova. short lived but bright and brilliant. doomed from the start.

the details of their falling out are complicated, so we'd be here all day if i tried to explain.

rin fails to stand by him during the fight against lysandre. she doesn't have the courage to. but she does, however, find him in the aftermath. she helps him heal and pick up the broken pieces. that's where 99% of their relationship really comes from.

i filter them into the category titled "couples written by taylor swift's the great war" and if you know you know

because it's important to me, rin gets along great with mairin.

at first she's a bit annoyed by her over-enthusiasm. rin is cold, blunt, realistic, and introverted, mairin is the opposite of all of those things. but once she sees how much mairin means to alain she does a full 180

and mairin's only ever had older brothers (both in her biological family and in alain), so having rin around to show her how to do her hair, her makeup, AND annoy the hell out of alain when appropriate is her favorite thing ever.

they are very good at bullying alain into taking care of himself (because he is very bad at that, as we all know.)

eventually, rin will go on to become one of the kalos elite four, after malva gets arrested (for being Very Fucking Evil).

one of my favorite things ever to think about is how the random internet people would claim "rin is only with alain to try and get famous" (and also make lengthy twitter/x callout threads on how alain is a problematic person because of his team flare involvement, and therefore decently-well-known league challenger rin yukino is also problematic by proxy), only for alain to generally avoid the public spotlight (there are lots of headcanons here. in short, he goes to university) and rin to be hired as elite four. and then she becomes far more famous as a result. and then the internet trolls are like "...oh." and a majority of the general population doesn't even know she and alain are a thing, because it's only obvious if you scrolled intensely through her instagram account.

i don't know why alarin getting stupid hate threads on twitter/x is the funniest thing to me but it really, really is!!

the internet is convinced alarin is a manipulative ploy on rin's end and one day she reads one of the twitter threads making all these claims about what she's done and she just goes "bitch i did what" and finds it absolutely hilarious

ANYWAYS that is all for now!! this post is so long and this is barely scratching the surface?? they mean so much to me i'm so sorry 😭😭

if literally anybody ever wants to hear about them i will share more. i would cry happy tears.

thank you so much for reading this if you did!! i'm so glad i got to share them for tsme week!

[izloveshorses]

the camera tracking an extremely unimportant hand hold and an extremely unimportant reaction ,,,,,,, on a sci-fi television show about death and violence and war,,,,, a lead character visibly grasping for comfort before doing something scary.,,,,, unimportantly

[werewolvesspillingink]

what we have forgotten

dreadlocks, summer dresses and welcoming smell of pumpkin pies, i take a step aside and all is fading mercilessly fast into the distance.

today i mourned and i did it because i did not attend an official funeral: my childhood gave me no warning, it ended so randomly and unimportantly like switching channels on the tv.

now dusty toys cohabit the attic and all the laughters on the playgrounds with my friends and neighbours are to this day confined in the teddy bear who is missing an eye, in the bicycle with silver scratches from all the falls, in the monopoly game that’s missing the thimble.

now my imaginary friend is a warm memory, they left unnoticed but i do know they are proud to see me being all a grown up.

but i am a little bit sad, with all that became nostalgic: the colours are not so vibrant anymore, my hops and jumps are shuffled steps to a office job, the laughters with friends are more faded and our comings together tend to be rare - short stays at cafes and game nights instead of sleepless nights that invented so many games and childlike connections.

my childhood is over and i still do not know if i want to say goodbye.