#and that they shouldn't be treated like they're one step away from being like those 'filthy evil cishets' ESPECIALLY when they end up with

[priestblaster]

is anyone else been getting force fed a disturbing amount of casual biphobia lately????? i really do try to go out my way to avoid it but it's been everywhere and about everything???? sometimes i think bisexuals should be meaner

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Spouse + Reader + Yan Android Maid

Suggestive themes.

-

You aren't lonely.

Things have taken a drastic change in your relationship, yet you continue to deny that you are. When you first met, your spouse was the sweetest person imaginable. Greeting you each morning, and waiting by your door each night with a meal when you were just neighbors in a shitty apartment complex. Offering you rides to work when your car broken down. Being there when those you loved dropped off the face of the earth.

You moved into a cozy house away from the hustle of city life and everything was fine for a while. If you were to pinpoint the moment emotions too agonizing to acknowledge, it would be the day of their promotion. Hours waited on you exchanged for ones cooped up in their study or at the office. Those kisses that made you feel whole no longer as lssting nor was their presence in your once happy home. The most harrowing thing of all was the acute case of paranoia they had fallen into. Even when they were back in your arms, their eyes only looked out the windows - searching for something that wasn't there.

You knew they weren't cheating. They swore to you they'd kill themself than betray you in such a way; proof written in red ink and the scars you both shared from a night you spoke out and wondered where they were. You knew better than to believe that, but it just wasn't the same. You pray it's the stress of a new position and things will go back to the way they were. That you can look at them like they were the person you fell in love with again-

"Y/n, meet Lemon."

The android puts on its best smile in preparation, bright eyes flickering at the mention of its master's name. Your puzzled face stares you down from its reflective pupils.

"Pleasure to meet you, Master"

"They will be your companion from now on. My boss wants me in the office on weekends now, and since we haven't made friends with the neighbors yet I don't want you get lonely.

"Weekends?" But that's the only time you have together. "When will I see you then?"

Your spouse hides their sorrow behind a wall of ice. "We're still working on an agreement for that. II'll still get time off, but it changes every time. Lemon will take good care of you while I'm gone."

Rose tints the android's face. "That is my prime objective. As my owner commands, my master's needs will be my top priority."

Its words sting when they shouldn't. Top priority. Were you still that to them? Is that why they're doing this to you? Sensing something off, the android's eyes dim. Your spouse leaves the room so you can get acquainted.

-

Life with Lemon was... tolerable. You didn't have to cook or clean anymore. A blessing as much as it was a curse as sometimes it just made you feel more useless. Every hour was a new conversation, and they constantly reminded you of important tidbits such as the weather and how many days left until your birthday. They read to you. Listened to you. Held you as the other side of the bed remained empty.

But that only happened once.

You didn't want to get too attached to them. Alive or not, you didn't have the heart to grow a bond with anything right now. On the surface you treated them like a glorified vaccum, but in those hours of weakness they were your only ally. Lemon never judged you how to processed your grief and remained happy at arm's length - for as long as they could.

The first time their demeanor changed was after you had taken a shower. A nice shower or bath always eased your nerves, and right then they were so tense it felt like your blood vessels would burst. Your spouse had called you the night prior on their first day off in months that they had to stay behind. Your wounded heart gave and you cried, Lemon quick to console you. You slept in their hold that night and left by dawn to take a shower and clear your head.

Stepping out of the tub, your towel was nowhere to be seen. None in the cabinet either. You check the ones beneath the sink as a last resort, a heated towel falling on your shoulders as you stand up.

"Steamed towel, Master?"

The water evaporates off your skin as their hands massage your neck through the warm cotton - sweat dipping down your face as you look back at the android. Their finger press rest the pinched muscles in your back as they work the towel down to the curve of your spin, pushing you against the counter as they dip into your nerves. Wrapping it around your waist, Lemon shifts the towel around to your chest, pulling your body to their heated exterior.

"Let me make sure you're all dry, wouldn't you?"

The artificial rumble of their voice drones in your ear, faux lips tracing its shell. Their hand gropes your thigh as they bite Tearing the tower from their grip, you excuse yourself and storm out of the room. Lemon watches you leave and picks up your discarded pajamas, pocketing your undergarments.

-

Lemon hums from their station at the stove. A few days have passed since the shower incident and you haven't really thought about it with your spouse returning home that same night. Lemon was unusually quiet during that time, but you figured they were embarrassed or something. Could an android even get jealous?

"Breakfast!" Lemon sets a plate of pancakes on the table. "Syrup?"

"Yes... thank you." You scroll through your texts with your spouse, paying them no mind. As they the syrup over your plate, Lemon's hand slips and they get it all over yours. They cover their mouth in shock.

"Master, I'm so sorry! I fear I have dust in my eye sockets again."

"It's alright. Can you pass me a napkin?"

"Please, allow me to clean up my mistake." Lemon takes your hand as they kneel, running your sticky fingers over their thin lips. One by one, they pop your fingers into their mouth, swallowing them deeper with each finger added. Their tongue rolls between them, cleaning every syrup down to the crevices separating them apart. As they had taken them in, Lemon pulls your fingers from their mouth one at a time with a wet pop. Your fingers were drenched in their spit. You didn't know they had saliva glands.

"Is everything alright, Master?"

"Yeah, I just didn't know you could do... that." You spread your fingers.

"Well I am the most advanced model of my generation. Owner wanted to make sure they had the best caretaker for you, and it is my pleasure to provide you with such deserved care. I can do whatever you need."

Lemon tucks your hair behind your ear as they rise up to your chest. "Whenever you need it."

They rip your legs apart to make room for themself as their lips collapse against yours. Where they lacked in human feeling, Lemon's mouth made up for by intensely tangling with yours. Passion you hadn't witness in weeks hid behind each press, your lips and teeth giving way to their exploring tongue as it swabs your cheek and the roof of your mouth. The bundled fabric of their apron rocks against your inner thigh as they drag you into their hold.

"Y/n! I'm back."

Lemon is gone from the floor before the front door closes. They pull a rag from their pocket and clean up the remaining syrup as your spouse enters the scene. They kiss your cheek, helping you out the chair and into a hug. They seem extra excited today.

"I missed you, dear. And as I can tell you missed me too."

"What do you mean?"

"Lemon is wearing the necklace you gave me for our second anniversary. I know things have been hard, but I'll be home soon."

Your eyes bulge from their sockets as you look over your spouse's shoulder at what Lemon carries, dotted pupils focused on their hand rather than their neck. Lemon shoves your underwear in their mouth, sapping the syrupy mess from its fabric.

-

When they come to you they're dressed in your spouses finest outfit. They did that a lot, but they choice is particular piece for the night it spent on the floor after a party caught by the room's surveillance cameras. Lemon crawls up the end of the bed, making a checkpoint in their approach with each kiss they leave on your body. Legs, stomach, wrists, chest, neck. You turn your head away before they can kiss you again.

"Lemon. I don't know if they asked you to do this, but you don't have to."

Lemon shakes their head, their keen denial tying your stomach in knots. "I'm sorry if this makes it harder to swallow, but this is not by Owner's order. If anything, it's the opposite, but I cut that bug out of my programming ages ago. I'm here to give you everything, remember?"

"We can't do this. It feels wrong."

Lemon kisses your jaw. "All the best things do, Y/n. This not infidelity, because I'm only fullying my prime objective and making you happy. That's all I've ever wanted. Besides, it's no bigger sin that using a toy. A toy can't love you back."

But a plaything can.

-

Your spouse throws their bloody vest in the trunk of their car as they fish their pockets for their keys. Another private eye. Why wouldn't the people from your past understand the person they adored is dead. They were so eager to get you home they left too many plot holes in their story which lead to this whole mess.

If faking your death proved anything, it's that your loyal spouse couldn't share.

[ivelle-serenity]

Skateboard 9

Wind breaker

fem bodied reader | smut | action | pwp | jayjo/fml | vinny/fml | wooin/fml | joker/fml | hyuk/fml | owen/fml | enemies to lovers | angsty | the other woman (?) | reverse harem | fluff | SLOW BURN! | all characters featured are 18+

author's note: thank you for supporting my story! i will try my best to update early.

✧˖° — windbreaker men

✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.

✧˖° — this is a story not one shot.

"They're not using me! They're just asking for my help," I protested.

"And you agreed?" Wooin's tone was almost mocking, laden with insult, making my chest feel even heavier. Why do I feel like I'm being cornered?

"The famous Demitra Roberts, agreeing to be a replacement for an old friend—or should I say an old enemy?" Wooin's face darkened as he spoke. I could hear the sarcasm in his voice. I glared at him.

"Who would imagine you'd agree to replace the woman who was your enemy for so long?" he added, this time laughing.

"Shut the fuck up." I stepped closer to him. "You don't know what you're talking about. Don't act like you know me, so shut your mouth!" my eyes flaring with anger.

"But I do... We all do!" he said with a laugh that shocked me even more. My heart sank at his words.

I looked down and clenched my fists. He knows something—no, they all do. Why am I still surprised? They must have done a background check on me. They might even know my other secrets. It's disheartening to think about. Wooin approached and held my face, forcing me to look up at him. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, and a familiar pain in my heart. Why am I feeling this again?

"They don't see you as their friend, Demitra," Joker said firmly. I couldn't look at him because Wooin was right in front of me. His eyes were full of amusement, as if my tears were something fascinating.

"For them, you're just a shadow of Shelly. They don't need you. Jay is just fooling you while he waits for his pathetic girlfriend," Hyuk said with disgust.

Why do they have to mention Jay? What else do they know?

"S-So what? I don't even like him, so why would it matter--"

"Yes, you should not," Joker said, as if warning me.

"But don't you hate being compared to her?" Wooin said with a grin. Horror plastered on my face. The tears I had been holding back started to flow.

Please, stop it already. I can't hear it anymore.

"How dare they use you? You're a legend, like us. You're a fucking Princess." He shouldn't use my underground title like that. I've been trying so hard to forget the title given to me back when I was greedy for money. It was all supposed to be in the past. I should be leaving it behind, but what are they doing? They keep bringing it up!

"They don't deserve you. A princess like you should be respected," he said seriously, squeezing my cheeks harder.

"Maybe she just wants to be treated like trash," Hyuk's insult stung, making me feel even worse. I saw a strange look in Wooin's eyes.

"Hyuk," he warned his friend, but Hyuk just shrugged.

My tears flowed freely, making Wooin pause. He immediately let go of me. My whole body trembled from the tension. I nearly collapsed, but Joker caught me for the second time, holding me by the waist. He gave Joker a significant look before I felt Joker's fingers wrap around my neck from behind.

Wooin smiled at the sight he saw. Joker made me face Wooin by wrapping his fingers around my neck and waist. I clenched my fist as Wooin approached me and wiped my cheeks.

"You're mine, do you understand?" he whispered as he looked at me. I could feel the possessiveness in his tone. "You belong to us. We have the right to tell you to stay away from those jerks, especially Jay. They're all losers." he said softly.

Joker's grip tightened but not enough to make me lose my breath. "Can't you see how much we want you, Demitra? Can't you see how much we adore you?" he whispered in my ear. "No? Does Hajun's cock doesn't ring a bell?" After Wooin's words, I felt a strange sensation pressing against me from behind. It didn't take long to realize that it was Joker's erection, rubbing against my body.

Realization dawned on me - they all wanted me. It was a truth that I couldn't ignore. The heat between my thighs grew as the possessiveness in Wooin's words sunk in.

"And you know, I wouldn't mind sharing him," Wooin said, a smirk playing on his lips.

Confusion clouded my mind as I tried to comprehend his words.

Before I could react, Wooin leaned in and kissed Joker beside me.  I watched as he inserted his tongue into Joker's mouth and played with it. I blushed at the sight. This only intensified the heat spreading through my body.

I couldn't quite catch Joker's reaction as Wooin released his grip on him. But what I did see was Wooin licking his lips seductively, shooting Joker a teasing look. And then, I heard Joker mutter a curse under his breath, a clear sign that things were heating up between them.

"Don't be jealous, princess. He could be yours too. But first, you have to be mine," Wooin stated, his thumb grazing my lips.

Stunned, I felt Wooin's lips on mine, his kiss filled with passion and possessiveness. I closed my eyes, feeling a rush of emotions as Joker's kisses trailed along my neck. Lost in the moment, I gave in to the intensity of their desires, unable to resist the pull they had on me. They made me feel special and important in a way I had never experienced before.

Joker bit a sensitive spot on my neck, causing me to let out a moan. Wooin's tongue swirled with mine as his hands roamed all over my body. I gasped when I felt him cupping my breast. The way he touched me let me know he was experienced in this. I could feel how wet I was getting, and Wooin seemed to notice as he paused his actions while Joker continued to give me small kisses on the back of my neck.

"Join us," he insisted again. "Join us and we'll fuck you until you forget everything else." his voice was deep and filled with danger.

I looked at Hyuk, who was just standing there watching us with a stern look. Was he in on this too?

"He wants you just like we do. He's just making sure you'll agree to our conditions." Wooin chuckled.

I shook my head. "No," I said firmly, giving him a sharp look. "I don't want to join your group. And don't make me one of your whores, Wooin." I said definitively.

His expression turned blank. After I spoke, even Joker paused but remained silent. I watched as Wooin clenched his jaw in disbelief and anger.

"Yeah?" he retorted sarcastically. "Then you leave me with no choice. You're going to stay here until tomorrow. You will not fucking race with them."

My eyes widened in shock. He can't do that!

"You can't confine me here."

"The hell I can't."

My eyes burned with anger. I had never felt this furious in my entire life. How dare he do this to me? Okay, I know it's my fault for lying to them about joining Hummingbird, but they don't need to interfere with my decisions. I have my own life.

I watched Wooin move away from me and drink his wine in one gulp. He exchanged a look with Hyuk before leaving the room. I was about to follow him when Joker tightened his grip on my waist.

"Stop, you’re just making it worse," Joker murmured.

"Worse? Isn't locking me up here bad enough?" I snapped at him, trying to pry his hands off my waist.

"Why do you want to be with them so badly?" Hyuk said sarcastically, walking closer to me.

"It's not like that. I promised I would help them—"

"Stupid," he shook his head. "You’re so stupid. Wooin just explained everything earlier, but you didn’t listen. You know what? We don’t even need you here. You’ll just be useless with that brain of yours. You’re nothing but a toy to fuck with."

My face flushed with anger and humiliation. I slapped him. Joker quickly stepped between us. I felt the heat from my eyes, tears threatening to fall again. I couldn't believe Wooin said Hyuk liked me when he was treating me like this. I didn’t say anything and let Joker handle him.

Just by looking at them, I could tell they were arguing. Even though part of me wanted Joker to put Hyuk in his place, I didn’t want it to turn into a physical fight.

“You’ve crossed the line. Do it again, and you’ll have to deal with me,” I heard Joker warn him.

“Who do you think you’re scaring, Joker?”

"I'm not scaring you, I'm warning you.” Joker roughly grabbed Hyuk by the collar, and I immediately grabbed Joker's arm. I didn’t want to see them hurt each other! I knew all too well how Joker fought. He’s a boxer, for heaven's sake.

Their attention shifted to me. Hyuk just scoffed before pushing Joker away. I watched Hyuk leave, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I looked at Joker, who was still staring at me. I rolled my eyes and sat down on the sofa. I wiped my cheek, not wanting to show him how much his friend's words had affected me. It hit me that Joker was the only one who had been kind to me, unlike the other members of his crew. I had made Wooin angry, and now Hyuk too. Were they really that mad at the Hummingbird that they took it out on me too?

“Your friends are assholes,” I muttered.

He didn’t respond.

“I know Wooin is just playing with me. There’s no way you all wanted me like he said. Do you even see how they treat me?” I almost laughed as I grabbed the bottle of expensive liquor from the table. “Maybe this is all part of your plan with Sangho, huh? Maybe you want me close just to hand me over to him.”

I was about to take a swig from the bottle when he snatched it away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coldly.

“Liar,” I shot back.

He set the bottle down on the table and took off his denim jacket, looking overheated.

“We want you, and we’re not lying about that.” His words seemed to etch themselves into my mind.

“You just want to fuck me,” I said quickly, making him stop. He lifted his gaze, then let it travel down my body. I was still wearing my uniform—nothing revealing, just my P.E. outfit.

“Not just me,” he replied, turning away after he said it. My lips parted in shock.

[astyrial]

the stars shine brightest spencer reid x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: spencer helps you after getting kidnapped word count: 770 warnings: cuts/blood masterlist | requests are open

    a solar blanket lays atop your shoulders, stars illuminating the sky. a pair of slippers are the only thing between your feet and the wet concrete street. you sit in the back of an ambulance, staring out at the sky above, one you questioned if you'd ever see it again. the ambulance's lights blare wildly; red and blue colors dancing around the street. your elbows rest against your knees, lungs taking in deep breaths.

  every breath sends a rush of pain through your torso, a shallow cut just above the rib cage. another cut above your eyebrow leaves encrusted blood running down your face. the situation doesn't stop you from admiring the stars, though. from the trees slowly swaying to the clouds parting just enough so you can see the beautiful full moon. the only other lights in the secluded forest can't even begin to compare to the natural lighting above.

  you close your eyes for a second, a dull headache encapsulating your forehead. as you sit there, you come to a sense of peace, despite knowing that today could've been your last. the lights in the mineshaft below the road still remaining in the forefront of your memory. the way a couple hanging glow sticks swung with the draft, barely giving you enough light to see your-

  "y/n? i just got a chance to step away, are you okay?"

  eyes slightly dull, you look up the familiar voice. spencer has a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed as he finally meets your eyes. his gaze instantly softening when you notice the sour look crossing your face. "do you want me to sit with you?"

  "yeah, that'd be great," the coarseness of your voice only letting you speak those words. 

  spencer sits down next to you, hands resting on his knees. you can tell a part of him wants to reach out to you, wrap his arm around you. however, he can tell by the way your body stays huddled together that maybe that isn't what you need right now. maybe you just need him by you, to just listen to someone talk.

  he sits for a second, unsure of what to say. sure he's talked to unsub victims before, hell he's been an unsub victim multiple times. watching you, though, makes him unsure of how he ever consoled someone. especially because he imagines himself knowing you so well. to know the way you laugh, how you cry, how you treat others. he knows the smile on your face like it's the back of his hand. 

  but in a situation like this? he's vulnerable to hurting you in ways he could never consider. with a simple word he could send you crying, because of him. "we were all worried about you, i- well, i was worried about you mostly," spencer looks over at you, watching as you continue to stare up at the stars.

  you watch as the stars glisten, only turning your head to look at him when you hear how he felt. despite none of it being your fault, a twinge of guilt stings your wounds. to hear the worry in his voice as if he's experiencing it all over again sends a twitching frown to your lips, "i'm.. sorry."

  "you shouldn't be apologizing, y/n, it was never your fault," spencer's hand raises a little, moving towards you like he wants to cup your face between his hands, stare deeply into your eyes and tell you everything will alright.

  "y/n, none of this could ever be your fault," he brings his hands back down to his lap, playing with his thumbs.

  you bite your lip, turning to look back at the illuminating night sky. "can we... just sit here?" you question, your breathing just barely sending a pain through your right side.

  spencer nods, joining you in gazing up at the sky, the tenseness in his forehead slowly soothing itself out. it's beautiful, he knows, but there's a way your eyes shine like they never have as you stare out at the stars. like they're the most precious thing you've ever seen. if he could feel the pain you felt in only seeing those luminescent lights and wondering if they would be the last lights you would ever see, maybe he'd understand.

  but for now, he lets you lean on him, letting your head rest on his shoulder. truthfully, it's all he knows what to do in this situation. maybe that's just enough for one evening, just to have someone who you could lean on.

[theloganator101]

The Great BNHA Review: We Live in a Society

The world of fiction! The place where everything in the story happens. So when you're worldbuilding there are many things to take into consideration to make the world of your story feel alive.

From the people that inhabits it, the cities, towns, villages, and locations the characters live in. And even having a set of rules to follow to avoid plot holes and help the world they live in make sense.

Much like how despite technology being more advanced compared to real life, yet still not being able to have flying cars or advanced robots. Those kind of things can sometimes break immersion in the story, and as a writer you would want to avoid that as much as possible.

HOWEVER! The world BNHA takes place in doesn't make a lick of sense when you think about it for more than thirty seconds, and the foundation of the world breaks the more you think about it.

Case in point, UA!

I think at this point we all can agree that UA wasn't an actual school and instead a glorified boot camp to train child soldiers to fight. And for a series called MY HERO ACADEMIA!! There's hardly any academia in it at all.

Apparently Hori didn't wanna bother with that part of the series and being forced to write "boring" scenes and just get back to the exciting battles. Like where're the scenes of the class studying for their latest tests? Where're the scenes of the kids doing their favorite activities? Where're the scenes of them bonding with their superiors?

WHERE'S THE FUCKING ACADEMIA PART OF THIS GOD FORSAKEN SERIES!?!?!

You can't just name it My Hero Academia and only give us 20% of what the show is called! It just feels like false advertising at this point!

Also about the whole child soldier thing? Yeah let's go deeper into that.

Why are we relying on TEENAGERS to fight in these big battles and save the world when they've only been in hero school for a single year? That's literally like forcing teenagers to discover a cure of a disease when they've only taken a year of biology class!

And yeah, I get it, it's an anime so it's expecting you to suspend your disbelief, and they already had experience with fighting villains before so it would make sense to recruit them. But again, these are fucking teenagers and we shouldn't be relying on them to fight battles the adults should be able to handle!

This is one of the biggest problems of having your story take place in a world similar to modern real life, because here adults actually gives a shit as to what children go through and knows it would be fucked up to send them to fight in war! And the excuse of it taking place in Japan and thus how they do things is different compared to most countries is NOT GOING TO CUT IT!

These grown ass adults should KNOW bringing kids to fight in a war is fucked up and should NOT be encouraged! But since they're so desperate they choose to get them involved! The only exception to this is Rock Lock since he already knows this!

Okay, let's step away from the whole child soldier thing and focus on something the story never gave us introspection of... the fact that we never got to see how quirkless people are really treated.

It's explained that 20% of the population is quirkless, so almost a quarter are born without it. And from what we saw of Izuku's life with it, discrimination must be a common thing in their society. So it would make sense to explore that since it's tied to the main character's backstory and how he's going to make things better for others like him.

... Except that's not how it goes.

We never get to see how the life of a quirkless person is like, we never get to canonically see Izuku interacting with someone like him with the only exception being Melissa. But the thing about her is that she grew up on an island and her father a respected scientist, so it's kind of difficult to tell how the quirkless life is like if this is the only example we get... and it's not a good one.

But wait! There is a canon major character that was also quirkless like Izuku! And it's Yuga Aoyama. And how did the story treated him?

Oh it was revealed real late into the story with no awareness and treated him like shit for being an unwilling traitor, then replace him with Shinsou who whined and complained his way into the Hero Course.

Uhh, what the fuck?

And the worst part about all this is that Izuku has no reaction or acknowledgement whatsoever! He doesn't sympathize or feel less alone, he doesn't comment or say anything about this! So it's like what's even the point!?

Oh don't worry, we'll come back to this whole Izuku not acknowledging his past later in the review! But there's one more thing I wanna talk about in this world.

Is how blatantly biased society is to the Heroics occupation.

From what we've seen and learned, people are not allowed to use their quirks in public. And that the only way would be able to legally use them is to have a provisional license... which is only obtained if you're training to be a hero.

Uhh, but what if you don't wanna go into heroics? What if there is a person who wants to be a comedian? A layer? A construction worker? What if they have quirks that they think would help them in their jobs? Would they get in trouble if they tried using their quirks on the job? Is the Provisional License exam the only way to be able to use your quirk freely? Is there another test people can take to get one if they don't want to go into heroics?

Yeah you see what I'm trying to say here?

Since Hori's so focused on getting to the next big battle that he barely thinks about the world BNHA takes place in and leaves holes in the process. The world of BNHA feels more like a dystopia where heroics is all that matters and that anything else is boring and not as interesting. And since the world itself is so flawed, that I don't feel immersed into it at all and all I have are these questions on how things are run.

So in the next part, we'll be taking a look into the themes and messages the story tries to tell it's readers... but oh boy, did it really fumble with it's messages.

[lunabug2004]

Why the Troy and Angela Situations Should Not Be Compared (+ Why Mike's Reaction Is Valid)

One of the things that gets my blood boiling as a Mike defender is when people try to compare the bullying/El's reaction to said bullying between the Troy and Angela scenes. They are not the same thing, not even close! Yes, they're both cases of bullying, but two very different levels of extreme.

Yes, I understand that words can hurt just as much, if not more, than a physical weapon, and Mike understands this too, that's why he tries to connect with El the morning after. But in the real world, one without monsters or powers, the one they believe they're living in at the time, violence is almost never the answer, it only makes things worse, as it did. Mike also understand this. Now, yes, it took him a minute to figure out that El didn't quite understand this yet, but he works to fix his mistakes as soon as he does.

Now, let's look at season 1's incident. Troy is threatening to cut Dustin with a knife if Mike doesn't jump off the quarry cliff. Two lives are in immediate and direct danger in this situation. El, literally at the last second, saves Mike as he's falling, so that's one problem fixed and one less life at stake. By this time, yes, Troy has moved away from Dustin, but he is still holding the knife! And then he aggressively steps towards El, threatening her with it, so she snaps his arm and makes him drop it. This is self defense, as well as defending her friends from a dangerous situation.

In season 4, Angela publicly humiliates El. Yes, it's awful, and yes, she deserves the smack that she gets for it, but it's nowhere near as bad as what Troy was doing. Angela isn't putting any lives in immediate danger, she's not brandishing a weapon! Legally, El smacking Angela is assault, because at the point of the roller-scate-smack, the ordeal is done with, and there was no physical harm done. I'd like to add that I'm aware of El falling, and that she may have been hurt, but technically no one touched her, so it still isn't technically self-defense (I may be wrong here, pls correct me if so). This is a very unfortunate situation, and I feel terrible for El, as should everyone, but I'm a firm believer that when it comes to bullies, you shouldn't fight fire with fire, and Mike seems to carry this belief as well, as he repeatedly tells the boys to just ignore their bullies in s1. @foodiewithdahoodie has an old post (can't find it irl, but it's stuck in my brain) in which they say El treats Angela, a normal girl who is not a serious threat, with the same extreme hostility she shows the UD monsters, and I completely agree with this. El is flawed, and Mike's not a bad person for reacting to those flaws, that just happen to include unnecessary violence, the way a normal person would.

Anyways, what I'm getting at here is that these two situations are completely different (again, Troy has a literal weapon, two peoples' lives were being actively threatened!) and Mike's reaction in both circumstances were completely valid! In season one, he was seconds away from death, and so when El saved him and made the threat go away, he was eternally grateful for her defense. In season 4, he tries so hard to get to her when he realizes what's going on despite having just found out she'd been lying to him for months, and he was even completely on El's side, trying to find and comfort her, until she hit Angela, then he believed she went too far (she did), so he made that known. He's never been one to sugarcoat when he disagrees with certain behaviors, and he doesn't start here, he tells it like it is: Angela doesn't look fine. It also is just a lot to process, so it doesn't surprise me that it takes an overnight thought-session for him to figure out where he went wrong, and again, he tries to make it up to her! To connect with her, bringing down some of his walls in the process! She just disregards his experiences, then brings up him not saying ILY, so he gets defensive and puts back up his walls, and they never get to continue this conversation! (This is an analysis for another day in and of itself tbh)

To reiterate, it just irks me when people compare these scenes to try and make Mike out to be a bad person, when they are nowhere near the same situation! His reactions being different makes total sense, esp when adding the shock-factor of it all! I'll stop talking now cuz this could go on forever and I lowkey feel like I'm just repeating myself now.

Pls tell me your thoughts on this!

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: It's A Full Moon Outside, the Weirdos Are Out [Smiling Man x Reader]

Title: It's a Full Moon Outside, The Weirdos Are Out [Smiling Man x Reader]

Synopsis: You probably shouldn't get drunk and take a walk in the woods on Halloween, but you do anyway.

For Horrorfest request: reader meets smiling man on halloween night when they're with their friends at like a party or adult trick or treating or smth

Word count: 1500ish

notes: reader gets drunk, female reader, implications of being worried about getting murdered?? not much else

You are buzzed, edging in on drunk–in that sweet boozy-woozy zone where your chest is warm and your face is warmer, and people seem extra nice and everything (and everyone) tastes more delicious than they would be in light of a sober day.

But what is Halloween for, if not drinking and dancing the night away while dressed in a patchy witch costume you found at the thrift store? So that’s what you’ll do, while remixes of the same old Halloween songs blare in the open-ended rental house someone booked just for this evening. 

It’s a cool place, out near the woods. The kind of place you’d love to have rented as a teenager to do just this sort of thing, but with the added thrill of the forbidden. 

There’s no thrill in your stomach now as you slide open the patio door and step out into the cool night air. A few couples are hanging around on the patio, lit only by the dim glow of some cheap lanterns someone put there earlier this evening.

You give a wave to someone who might be one of your friends leaning against the railing–it’s hard to tell, in the dark–and keep going, carefully stepping down the stairs and onto the cool grass of the lawn out back. It’s quieter out here, with only the dim sound of the party inside, the quiet conversation of the couples on the patio.

Beyond the yard is the woods, lit by the moonlight, by a smattering of stars that are more visible here than back in town. You’ve missed those stars. When you were little, hell, even when you were a teenager, you could see the stars so clearly, even from your house. Now they are faint things.

Nostalgic, drunk, your hand reaches up for the sky, wanting to touch the stars you used to see back then. Bottle them up and keep them under your pillow so you can look at them before bed and remember when. 

If only you could do that, keep this feeling with you; retain that something that you lost as you got older. If only, if only. And with that thought comes the silliest of memories; that mantra you used to stammer out as quickly as possible whenever you saw the first star of the night as a kid.

And you’re alone, more or less. Why not? Why not focus on those stars and whisper it: 

“Starlight, starbright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” 

“The stars look even better from the woods,” says a voice, and your drunk self almost twists an ankle on the grass in response.

“Sorry,” says the voice, and hand on your chest, you turn around to see your friend from the patio. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Well. You think it’s him. It’s dark, you’re drunk, and he’s really not that great of a friend, anyway. Even through the filter of booze. A rush of shame flushes through you at being caught in the act of something so silly, but he doesn’t say anything about it, and you let it fling away. 

“I was gonna go for a walk,” you say, without knowing that you’d been planning to do that before. But maybe you were, and that’s why you didn’t stay on the patio. Why you came out to the yard and stared at the sky and thought about the woods beyond. 

“Alone?” says your friend, a hint of wariness in his voice. “I’ll go with you.”

Oh, yeah. Maybe not walking alone in the middle of the woods, drunk, during a house party filled with friends, strangers, and people you vaguely remember being not-so-nice in high school wasn’t the best idea.

The idea seems sensible enough, so you shrug and gesture for him to lead the way, and he does. He keeps his hands in his pockets as he walks ahead.

He’s not even wearing his costume from earlier in the night anymore, and you pin a mental reminder to tease him about this. The pin will be forgotten, thanks to the alcohol coursing through your system, but still. 

The forest does have a trail, well-worn and unpaved, but easy enough to navigate with your friend walking in front of you. So far, anyway. The moon is full, thank God, but the farther you get away from the house, the harder it is to see.

You’ve been walking for an awfully long time, you think. It’s hard to know, when you’ve been drinking. Time gets all slurry.  

“I should’ve brought my phone,” you say, nearly tripping over a branch. “We need a light or something.’ 

Your friend hums up ahead. “It wouldn’t have worked out here anyway. Few things do.”

The reception wasn’t that bad at the party, but maybe your friend has been out here more and would know. You’re not as close with the host as you used to be (fuck, it is hard to keep friends as you get older) and you’re sure you get left out for some events. 

A wave of bitterness, and maybe it’s reflux from the alcohol, too, rushes up your stomach.  You shove it down because you’re supposed to be enjoying the night and getting a better view of the stars.

Speaking of–

You crane your neck upward, eager for that pinch of nostalgia, and–

There are no stars at all.

There’s not even a proper sky. Where the open sky should be is mottled by gnarled trees, all dark and twisted, looking for all the world like some sort of twisted cage keeping you in. On instinct, you whirl behind you, and where there should have been a clear path through the trees, there was only dense forest.

Something’s wrong, very wrong, and your friend just keeps on walking up ahead. You call your friend’s name, a whimper at first, then louder–scared.

He stops. 

And turns.

And as he approaches, step by step, the thought occurs to you that your friend isn’t quite this same build. And his hair is darker, isn’t it? 

The man in front of you isn’t your friend at all.  You don’t know this man, and yet he keeps on coming. You can’t see much in the dark, but you can see the barest hint of his features; you can see his smile. 

“My,” he says, voice taking on a charming lilt. “You really are inattentive, aren’t you?” He sticks his hands in his pockets, and keeps on smiling. “But I suppose the alcohol plays a part.” He snorts, now. “People really do make it easier for me, with that.” 

“Easier to do what?” You ask, throat tight. You don’t have a weapon. No keys, even, to tuck between your fingers. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck, you shouldn’t have come out here, what were you thinking? You’re a grown ass adult, you know better than this. 

Now you’re going to get murdered and left for dead in the woods, dressed like a witch. They’ll find your blood-soaked witch hat a few feet away from your body or something ridiculous like that.

Tears spring to your eyes and you must mumble out some sort of plea, because the strange man takes a step back, puts his hands up.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he says, almost softly. Almost enough to make you stop thinking your final thoughts, blurred and drunken though they are. “I promise.” 

Things other than killing come to mind, and you look behind you, hoping for an escape route. All you get is the forest, unrelenting and thicker than it ought to be.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he adds, with a touch of annoyance in his voice. It makes you bristle, and you get the alcohol-induced audacity to point a finger at him, glow-in-the-dark nail polish standing out in the dimness.

“Then what the fuck do you want?”

The man’s smile flickers into frown. “Such manners,” he sighs. He adjusts his stance, sticking his hands back into his pockets. “I’m offering you a bargain. I don’t always make such personal calls on All Hallow’s Eve, you know.” Something like a stuffiness nestles in his tone. “It is a very busy evening for me.” 

You don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, or if he’s crazy–presumably so–but you do know that there is nowhere to go. 

“What… kind of bargain?” Maybe you can stall for time. Someone will notice you’re missing, one of the couples on the patio will say they saw you walk into the woods with some guy, and that will be that. 

If you can ignore that the trail has vanished when it couldn’t have possibly done so; if you can ignore that the sky has been replaced by a cage of trees. Sure. This might happen.

His smile returns again, and he gazes up at the stars-that-aren’t-there. “Your wish, from earlier.” 

His gaze turns back to you, and you’re struck by the sudden, awful sensation that he knows exactly what you want. That he knows you. That he’s known you far longer than tonight. That he knows something that you will never know, and it keeps him smiling.

It’s not just the booze, and somehow, you know that, too. 

The gnarled trees above, blocking out those stars you used to see, and the forest behind you, keeping you from going back. 

And–

In front of you is a smiling man with his hand outstretched and a bargain on his lips. 

[poppy-metal]

Oh Poppy what do you think woldve happened after the tribbing/trash can kicking heart break incident?? What would’ve gone through Jordan’s mind for the following weeks and how would they have started to interact?

under a cut because i let my fingers fly

no because its definitely a turning point in your relationship, because how do you come back from that? jordan's been cruel to you many times before but this takes the cake. i mean, this is your body after all, its not just an instrument they can strum. you've learned by then, a little by being around them so much, what gets under their skin. so you ignore them after that. even though you're burning up inside and you want to scream and yell at them for being so careless with your feelings, want to shake them and tell them you're sorry they've had to work so hard and for so long with no acknowledgement from their parents or their peers, you know it must suck and be lonely and you know how high they've built their walls to keep from getting hurt, but its no excuse. its no excuse to hurt you that way, or to treat you like the enemy when you've done nothing but be their biggest ally. you suck it all up and tuck it deep and just go through the motions of practice, you don't meet jordans eye or talk to them at all.

for jordans part, its torture. they're already wrapped in guilt, but also a sick sense of satisfaction. satisfaction at being the first to be between your legs and make you feel like that - and as a woman, no less. they'd gotten to feel that slick heat between your legs and finally make you feel half of what they felt everyday around you, the heat, the frenzy, the passion. but they hate themselves because jordan knows they're a cunt. an asshole. they're not unaware of the kind of person they are. you dont grow claws like theirs and not realize they're there. and they feel like they stole something from you, something that probably should have gone to someone better. but then again, why shouldn't they have taken what they wanted? its half your fault anyway, for forcing this desire on them.

still, they dont expect you to ignore them. they'd been prepared for your simpering eyes, your frowns and your trembling lips and your betrayed gaze. they'd been prepared to brush you off, but you're the one doing the brushing. jordan li has never been brushed off a day in their life, not since their parents, they've made sure of that, because they fucking hate the feeling. makes it feel like there are ants under their skin. itchy and twitchy and fucking irritating and distracting.

you're not supposed to be mad at them.

"leave me alone, jordan" you tell them cooly, when they corner you later, you drain a bottle of water and jordan watches the way your throat works, lip curled because you're wearing one of their fucking hickeys on your neck and you have the audacity to act like you're too busy to talk to them.

"what the fuck is your problem," they step into your space. one hand coming up to grip your arm to stop you from taking another sip. you chance a glance at them and see their glare. dark eyes like two onyx flames. "kinda hard to do a duet performance when your partner is on the other side of the fucking studio all day."

you want to shake out of their grip but think that would give away too much emotion. so you just shrug, even if goosebumps are dancing across your skin at them being so close. "there are some solo scenes that dont require us to work together. think im gonna focus on those this week."

their jaw works, and you try hard not to think about their lips and how they'd felt on your skin. your neck, your throat, parting to tell you dirty things like how good you felt.

"dont fuck with me, freshmen. is this about last weekend?"

its a struggle not to react to the mere acknowledgement of the act that took place. when you finally look at them, their eyes flit over your face, like they're trying to gauge your reaction, taking in every feature of your face like they'd been starved of it, and you realize this is the first you've looked at them head on since that night.

they're so beautiful. it hurts.

you look away, "last weekend?"

playing dumb never worked with jordan. you should have known they wouldn't let it slide, even now.

"when i fucked you -"

"that wasn't sex," you protest meekly. not that you're an expert, far from it, in fact. but sex as far as you knew from books and movies had always required penatration, and nothing had gone - inside you.

jordan snorts. they step closer and now your back is against the full length mirrors that line the studio walls. they tower over you in this form, masculine energy pouring from them and making your mouth water. they always smell so good, something sharp and crisp, that made you want to lean into them.

"is that what you've been telling yourself all week? that it didn't matter because i didn't fuck you with my cock?"

you hate how the crude words make you flush, hate that you can't just not react and stay stoic like they seem to be able to. except, well, they aren't acting very stoic today you suppose. in fact, you notice their chest rising and falling inches from your own heaving chest. their pecs straining against the tight black nylon of their costume. that stupid fucking pearl chain necklace nestled where it always is.

"dont - we dont need to talk about it-"

one hand comes up next to your head against the glass, half trapping you. you crane your neck up to meet their eyes, a mistake, because of how intensely they're looking down at you. like you're prey all over again.

"i thought we shoulnd't, but now im realizing some things got lost in translation," they say softly, their other hand coming up to twine a strand of your hair that had fallen from your bun around their finger. "sex can be alot of things, freshie, not all of it means i have to be inside you, though-" they rub the strand between their fingers, their knuckle just barely skimming the skin of your clavicle, "- i've definitely thought of splitting you open on my cock."

heat blooms everywhere. across your body, in your stomach, pooling between your thighs.

"jordan," you hiss, your facade finally cracking. your wide eyes pleading with them, for you dont know what. for them to stop, for them to keep going. all of it and none of it. "i thought this is what you wanted - i, you left - im trying - im trying to let it go."

"yeah, i know. and i should let you." for once they sound sincere. almost remorseful. they grip your chin with their fingers, tild your head up. you watch some of their hair fall across their forehead and you want to push it back for them but you're frozen. "if i was a good person i would. but im not - im not a good person."

their hand next to your head slips down, until they grab your hand, interlacing your fingers with theirs. you feel the metal of their rings press into your skin and you cant pull away, even if you wanted to.

"you can't ignore me like that again."

you feel some spark come back to you, "you deserved it. after - after what you did -"

"but it wasn't sex right?"

you fluster, unsure now, "i - we - it was just - "

"its okay, sweetheart." you fumble immediately, the petname washing over you like a warm wave. a cotton candy cloud floating you to the sky. why should you be angry? "you obviously have alot to learn. how sex works between two women, first of all."

what are words anymore.

they grin then, and it feels like trouble, like the start to a whole new chapter of problems and heartache and thrills and pleasure.

"you're gonna come home with me tonight. and after i pop that cherry of yours with my cunt, you can tell me if you still feel like a virgin."

[rorywritesjunk]

There's no race, no ending in sight

(because I fixate on things. pg-13 rating. title comes from "two of us on the run" by lucius)

pt 1 + pt 2 + p3 + p4 + pt 5 + p6 + pt 7 +Pt 8 + Pt 9 + Pt 10 + Pt 11 + Pt 12 + Pt 13 + Pt 14 + Pt 15 + pt 16 + Pt 17 (End)

Pt 1

"If your way doesn't work then we sell the clown."

Sunny could only shrug as she looked up at her husband towering over her, cigar between his teeth, the smoke lingering in the air with each puff. She hated the smoking and he knew that, but she always found ways to get the smell out of their clothes.

"I don't really care either way." Was her response as she reached up to adjust his cravat. There was never anything wrong with it when she did this, it just became a nervous habit after being married to him for so long. "I don't even know who he is. He may kill me if I speak to him."

Crocodile chuckled softly, removing the cigar from his mouth long enough to give her a smoky kiss which has her flinching. She hated that he did that. She could taste it. Once she tried one of his cigars early into the marriage but made the mistake of inhaling it. She was sick all night but he at least held her hair back and brought her water.

It was... A marriage. For Sunny it wasn't happy or horrible, just neutral. They met when she was a young apprentice, not even twenty yet, and he wanted a wife. A promise to let her see the world, a gentle threat to her livelihood should she deny him. She was young and scared but she went along with him, not wanting anyone to get hurt.

While he never raised a hand or his voice to her, Sunny had been terrified of him until he went to prison. She knew what he was capable of, saw it plenty of times in how he treated others.

"He knows to expect you." Crocodile continued as he raised his hook up to her face, stroking it against her cheek. The cold metal caused her to shudder and she closed her eyes for a moment. There was always a moment of concern when he did that, what if it slipped and cut her? "Why aren't you wearing the clothes I bought you? He'd be sure to listen to you then."

"They're too tight." Sunny told him as she opened her eyes. Her choice of clothes were overalls and a T-shirt with a cute bunny on it. Comfortable and practical. "And Mihawk talked about starting up a garden and I asked if I could help. I couldn't wear a form fitting dress to dig a hole."

"My wife shouldn't be getting her hands dirty like that." He sighed as he took hold of her hand in his, raising it up to press a kiss to the back of it. "There are others who could do that work."

"That may be, but I like to do it." She replied firmly. "Besides, you don't want to deny your wife her happiness, do you?"

It wasn't often she said those words, your wife, because after losing him to prison she felt free, no matter how short of a time it has been. She managed to convince the ones who arrested him that she had been innocent, unaware of what he had been up to this entire time. There were so many tears, claims that she was just the wife, she spent her days doing very little and was completely unaware of what he had been up to and what his plans were!

It worked. She got away, seeking refuge on a ship to be dropped off elsewhere. She had a little money to get by, starting up her own shop for special clothing orders and alters. It worked out for her until Crocodile hunted her down.

"I would never." He assured her, pressing another kiss to her hand. "Take your time with that clown. If he doesn't agree then let me so so I can take care of him."

"Agreed." Sunny replied as she stepped back. "Don't do anything to him until I say, however. If he's as pathetic as you say it may take me a while."

"I trust you to get the job done."

"I know you do." She managed a smile. "I'll come back when I'm done."

He knew she would come back. Where else on the island would she go? He pulled her back over to him, cupping her face with his hand before giving her a kiss. She managed not to pull away or make a face, returning the gesture even before pulling back.

"I'll be back."

~

An actual circus tent greeted her. It... It was nice to see. Sunny remembered going to a circus as a child with her parents. They saved up to take her and it was magical. The animals, the performers, everything! She remembered feeling the heat from the fire breathing and how loud the lion roared.

It didn't disappoint when she went in. There was a lion, fat and scruffy as he helped himself to some food. There were some performers, cleaning the area up. Middle of the day there wasn't much to expect but Sunny still thought it was neat to see.

"Hey! We aren't open!" Someone shouted from the arena. Blue hair, red nose, wearing turquoise pants and a striped shirt. That had to be the clown that owed her husband money.

"You're open for me." She shot back as she made her way over to him. His jaw dropped. Who would speak to him in such a way?

"Listen, baby, I don't know who you are but you can't walk into the tent like this."

"Baby?" Sunny repeated, amused by this. "I don't know, my husband lets me do what I want."

"Yea? Who's your husband?" He asked, making a face as he looked her over. "Listen, baby, sweetheart, whoever you are, I don't have time to entertain some looky-loo. I'm waiting for someone, okay?"

"Oh, and who are you waiting for?" She asked curiously. "Someone important, I imagine?"

Buggy looked her over with a sneer. "Not that it concerns you, but I'm meeting some wife of Sir Crocodile. You're distracting me so go away."

"Oh, you're the one I'm supposed to talk to?" Sunny feigned innocence. "I didn't think you'd be so mean to me..."

"The one..."

Buggy's eyes bugged out, his body split into pieces before coming back together. He actually stood there, trading barbs with Crocodile's wife. He didn't know it was her! She looked nothing like he expected! He expected someone covered in jewels, shimmering outfits, expensive shoes! Not someone in pigtails wearing overalls. She looked like a farmer, not the wife of one of the most dangerous criminals in the world.

He... He was going to die.

[winterinhimring]

Post-NWH Raimiverse Headcanons

(These may or may not be relevant to a fic I am writing, but that's some time in the future. For now, I have all sorts of thoughts on how the Raimiverse will change after the cured villains make their return and so I must inflict those thoughts on all of you.)

Oscorp now has the best lab safety regulations of any corporation in the business. Period. They're light-years ahead of the current standards. Depending on who you ask, this was either Norman's last act as CEO before he stepped back for Unspecified Health Reasons, or Harry's first. Both of these theories suggest some interesting things.

Within the company, theories about What Is Wrong With The Osborns run rampant. Norman just sets off people's danger instincts now, because people his age aren't supposed to move like Olympic-level gymnasts - Peter can get away with being inhumanly flexible because he's a teenager and adults tend to expect teenagers to be capable of some slightly inhuman feats anyway; Norman less so. He can also see a little too well in the dark, and he periodically pops up in places he shouldn't really have been able to get to. It doesn't help that he's usually in those places to terrorise people whose lab safety standards are slipping. "Dad, stop scaring the interns" / "I just want to make sure nobody falls into an experiment and becomes a villain" is an exchange that Norman and Harry have had multiple times.

The theories range from "Norman is a vampire" through "Norman was in a lab accident and wound up able to teleport, but can't control it, so Harry stepped up so nobody would see his dad accidentally disappearing from board meetings" to "The Green Goblin was the result of an accident testing the performance enhancers and Norman hunted him down but had to take the enhancers himself to beat him and it broke his health".

(There are also, of course, theories that are uncomfortably close to the truth. Generally, what happens is that an older employee quietly takes the person who has put the pieces together aside and says, 'yes, you think you've figured it out, but think very carefully about whether you want to *say* it in front of the legal team *and* the possibly-not-quite-human former CEO'. The theorist invariably decides that discretion is the better part of valour.)

Harry does not unsettle people in himself. Harry is shockingly normal and while he can be a bit of a brat on occasion, he's usually very nice. However, people are a little scared of him anyway, because he treats his weird freaky cryptid dad like a perfectly normal person.

When Otto Octavius comes back from his little jaunt into another universe and lands in a destroyed warehouse after nearly wrecking half of New York, Oscorp's second defining feature, after the lab safety, becomes their terrifyingly effective legal team. A lot of precedents about the humane treatment of enhanced individuals are set, and ultimately they get Otto off with a pretty light sentence owing to the whole 'four AIs were controlling his brain' thing. Also, Rosie Octavius survives in this world (because she just does, okay? I'm appealing to the butterfly effect because...just imagine her bonding with May and MJ. It's a wonderful thought).

Once Otto has served his time, he becomes Peter's Science Enabler Uncle. They get along like a house on fire and are an absolute pair of holy terrors. Multiple things have been set on fire in the Octavius (and also the Osborn) house because of them. (So, so many things.)

Rosie, May, MJ, and Harry form the 'not a scientist but afflicted with a scientist dad/husband/nephew/best friend' club and stay over at each others' houses when one of their residences is temporarily uninhabitable because Otto and Peter were doing late night science, or Otto and *Norman* were poking the arc reactor that Otto brought back from the other universe and made a fire. Or because someone had the bright idea of cannibalising a small appliance for a robotics project and now the toaster is no longer functional.

Rosie and MJ are especially good friends and get into long, involved literary discussions which Peter and Otto are utterly baffled by. Even Harry, who's pretty well-read, can't keep up with them once they really get going. Peter and Otto are very proud.

At some point, a Conversation is had about Curt Connors. ('WHAT DO YOU MEAN PETER'S PROFESSOR IS GOING TO TURN HIMSELF INTO A LIZARD?' MJ shouts. 'I didn't say he was *going* to, I said we should keep an eye on him.' 'That...is really not very reassuring.')

And everyone lives happily ever after, to the end of their days.

[sequoiareachesforthesky]

This my contribution to queer Kazui propaganda (I love taking middle-aged characters and making them go against traditional gender norms, truly one of my favourite pastimes)

Ok so I actually have a looooot of thoughts about Kazui and gender and queerness and everything, but right now, what I really want to talk about is the "he shouldn't have lied from the start" argument. (Rather long rant under the cut)

Everything discussed in this post will be in the context of the "Kazui married even though he wasn't in love, lied for years about his feelings, eventually came clean and this is what caused his wife to commit suicide" theory. I know a lot of people have different views on Kazui's story and murder, but this is the scenario I'd want to talk about because it's probably the one I've seen being mentioned the most so far, and the people seeing him as guilty because "he shouldn't have lied from the start" in the context of this theory are starting to bug me a little.

Because basically, saying that is like condemning a man for playing the role he was asked to play in a flawed system (flawed is a euphemism. fuck heteronormativity.) So basically the way I read the "he shouldn't have lied to begin with" argument goes a bit like this : "he should have never taken part in the system from the start". To which I answer : you know, not everyone was born an anarchist and not everyone was raised to question the system. If that was the case for you, that's great! Your conscience is clear and you can sleep soundly at night! But you do realise that for most people, who aren't exposed to anything else, who don't even know that different systems exist, playing along is just the most logical thing to do, right?

Even when you feel like things aren't quite right in your life, you end up thinking that something is wrong with you, not with the system. Because noone questions the system, so surely the problem must come from inside, right?

So you mask your "difference", hoping that it will just go away. You hide your queerness because you've been told that it's disgusting, and so you think it is too. You mask your neurodivergency because your family call autistic people "crazy", and surely you can't be like those people. You grit your teeth and bear through the chronic pain because doctors keep on insisting that "there's no reason for you to be feeling like that", so you downplay your own pain, and maybe the one of other people too. Because that's the normal thing to do right? I must fit into the machine at all cost, because I know how people who don't are treated. And I'm scared of being treated the same way.

Often, one would rather be a coward than a "freak". And I can't really blame them for that. Because people depend on each other to survive. And being chased away from your community seems like a death sentence.

So you bottle it up.

But at some point, you can't take it anymore. You snap. You smash your mask on the ground. You rip appart your costume. You refuse to play this role anymore. A role that has hurt you, and that has also hurt others. That's the way the system works, it puts us into a box, then against each others, and don't you dare break the established rules or there will be terrible consequences!

But you know what? Fuck that. Yeah I've hurt people with my lies, with my ignorance, by being irresponsible. But I can learn. I can change.

And if someone else makes the first step towards being a better person themself, if they accept to see the pain they're inflicting on others and on themselves, well the first thing I'm gonna do is welcome them, not pointing out everything they've done wrong in their life. Retribution and accountability can come later. It will come. But let's take things one step at a time. People are imperfect, changing is hard. But it's not impossible. And I believe that we shouldn't abandon someone just because they're "a lost cause" or "past the point of no return".

But I digress. Because in the case of Kazui, he has realised the harm he has done and he doesn't want to hurt anyone anymore. And in the case of people like these, I'd rather help them move on towards being a better person rather than focusing on their past. What's done is done, all we can do is fixing what can be repaired and making sure it never happens again.

That's why I hate the "Kazui shouldn't have ever lied" argument. Because he can't change the past, and if he could he would. Yes it wasn't right of him to lie, but you know what? I'm gonna say it wasn't wrong either. It was barely even a conscious decision at this point. He just did what he was supposed to. I don't see the point of examining his act through the lense of morality, because in his mind, it was never about what's moral or not. Just what was expected of him (I could go further into this argument and I know not everyone agrees with it but whatever).

Yet people still think Kazui, or really anyone in this situation, deserves to be punished even more? It's kinda like when people get cancelled forever, they're denied the opportunity to change, to make amends, to better themselves. Denied the right to be seen as human beings.

Alright now is the time to derail and extrapolate from this case study because why not.

Because Kazui took the first step towards changing, because he stopped lying, because he said fuck this stupid act I've been putting up all my life, I do believe he's on the right path towards understanding the real problem behind it all. And sure, he isn't an anarchist trying to tear down the system yet. He doesn't even seem to realise that the real issue isn't lying, the issue isn't that there's something wrong with him, no, the real problem is the society that pressures people into heterosexual marriage (and honestly, Kazui is far from the only one in MILGRAM whose crime was very directly influenced by their environment). But I have faith in people like him. I think he could become a system-destroyer™. So for now I'm queering him in hope that someday, he'll queer the world in return.

In the end this post isn't really about Kazui, more so about this specific interpretation of him that's fairly popular in the fandom. I do have a lot of thoughts, headcanons and interpretations of his character in relation to queerness though. But today, he's not really the one I want to talk about. I want to talk about everything else.

I know I may sound quite uhmm, categorical(?) in this post, but I'm actually not all that set on my convictions. This is just what has come to my mind. It is flawed, it is approximative, it is incomplete. But it is what I wanted to say. And I hope you guys have thoughts you'd be willing to share about all this. Because despite how anxious online social interactions make me, I want to hear what others have to say. I want to know about other worldviews and experiences. I want to learn!

Love you guys for reading through all this (and I hope you enjoyed the middle-aged-man-in-dress post haha)

Also I put way too much effort into drawing the apple and the broken mask for the background so I'm putting them here (low quality but still)

[valentinehorrors]

The Mask

"Does your dad know?" Casey Jones asked as he threw a rock at one of the five cans that sat a fair distance away from him and the turtle next to him, he missed. They were on the rooftop again, their rooftop, the same one.

"Yes... It's technically his fault." The turtle said, eyes never leaving the human, he had collected a few rocks as per Casey's request. The human had to find something to do, he couldn't sit still for long.

"It is? How? Did he like, say you were too freaky for the guys?" The human wondered aloud as he went over to Mikey to grab another rock.

"Do you think I'm freaky?" He almost cut Casey off with how quickly he asked, grabbing Casey's wrist to grab his attention.

It worked as Casey's eyes snapped up to Mikey's and that same shiver went through him, so cold. Casey opened his mouth to answer.

"You can't lie to me. I know lies, they're as familiar as breathing oxygen." Mikey's head tilted a bit as he carefully observed Casey's face, icy eyes memorizing every detail.

The human hesitated, that was something he hadn't felt in a bit, fight or flight. That's weird, it's just Mikey...

"Okay... Yeah, kinda, but!" Casey glanced at the grip that Mikey had on his wrist, he could feel the cold through his sleeve. "It's not a bad thing though, plenty of people say I'm freaky." He dismisses with a nervous smile.

Mikey's eyes scanned from his forehead to his chin one more time before he finally let go, allowing Casey to take a rock from the pile he held in his arms. Casey held the rock for a second, it was his turn to look at Mikey's face, trying to observe in much the same way. But it gave no results as Mikey's face was stone cold, conveying no emotion, as monotone as his voice. He was staring again, he turned back to the cans lined up on the wall, "So... that it?"

"Not exactly... He was afraid."

"Really?" He missed again, cursing a bit under his breath as he got another rock from Mikey, he was starting to wonder if Mikey ever blinked. "Splinter don't come off as the, oh shit I'm scared of my kid type. He didn't like... treat you like shit behind your brothers' back did he?"

"No, he only expressed... concern. When we were very young, he simply expressed that perhaps it'd be better if I tried being a child. He thought I was acting a bit older than I was."

Casey had missed again, too focused on paying attention to Mikey. "Shit, sorry, I swear I'm usually better at this... But anyway." Those eyes, Leo had blue eyes too but they weren't anywhere near like Mikey's, and then it clicked. "Ooohhh... He said you should act like a kid."

"So I did." Mikey confirmed as this time he brought the rock to Casey. "Aside from my brothers, the only other media we had access to were comic books and cartoons. I built my mask with them as a guide. It stuck."

As Casey took the rock, Mikey quickly grabbed Casey's hand this time, the human's fight or flight almost kicked in again as he jumped. It's just Mikey, seriously Jones, keep your cool. Why did Mikey make him so jumpy?

"For the longest time that's all we had in terms of human exposure. Just shows and comics..." Mikey let the other rocks drop onto their nearby wall, using his other hand to take Casey's fingerless glove off.

Both confused and curious, Casey let him, something in the back of his mind telling him that he shouldn't be letting Mikey be so casual this close.

The turtle's fingers traced Casey's knuckles of each finger, "I knew you were warm, but it's different to actually feel it." He traced Casey's palm with his thumb, it caused the human to shiver again. "And all our differences..." His thumb went down to Casey's wrist, under his sleeve, right at his pulse. Mikey's eyes snapped back up to Casey's and the human almost forgot to breathe.

"Your heart..." Mikey stepped closer, they were inches apart, no doubt Mikey could feel Casey's breathing. Had it quickened? Did he actually forget to breathe?

"It's beating..."

What's happening?

"So fast..."

Was this...?

"I feel it..."

Fear...?

"In your blood..."

They were almost pressed against each other now with how close they were. Mikey's thumb was still on his pulse. Casey couldn't help as he gulped, looking into those cold eyes, so close now. Was he seeing things or were the blues in his eyes shifting a bit?

He doesn't know how much time passed, just them staring at each other. They were just staring at each other and Casey could feel the adrenaline start to flood his system, acting as though he was about to get in a fight. And then those eyes of ice were backing away as a rock was placed back into his now bare hand. Without a word, Mikey stepped back and went back to leaning against the wall.

Casey stared at Mikey for a few more seconds before looking down at the rock, turning it over in his palm a few times. He slowly exhaled, his breathing and heart calming down a bit before he looked back towards the cans and threw.

He smirked as he heard the satisfying clank of rock hitting metal, the can falling down into an alley below. The human looked back at the icy turtle.

Mikey had gotten into the habit of letting his mask hang around his neck to show Casey he had dropped his persona, as such, there it currently lay, rustling a bit as a light breeze brushed past.

Casey then smiled in satisfaction as the adrenaline calmed down "Ha!" He chuckled a bit as he pointed at Mikey who tilted his head much like a dog's when it's confused, ignoring the slight shaking of his ungloved hand, "You do blink!"

And for the first time since they started having their meetings, Casey saw one of Mikey's genuine true smiles. "Yes, I do."

[ride-thedragon]

The people in the Hotd fandom will push for a romantic relationship between Jace and Cregan or Jace and Sara and, in the same breath, say that Daemon and Nettles should be platonic. Either way, they're sidelining black women in romantic narratives to center white couples.

With Jace and Cregan, somehow, we've managed to discredit mlm relationships by saying it isn't cheating or that Baela would be okay with it and allow for male friendships and mentor roles to go unfulfilled for the sake of romance.

It's funnier when you think about the people saying that Daemon and Nettles shouldn't be romantic because it would lessen the narrative between them of they are romantic or that we need more male female friendships that aren't romantic. It goes off into the tangents of a mentor mentee relationship and father daughter one as well. Then, we can't prioritize romance because of Rhaenyra and Daemon's relationship.

See why I'm having a hard time believing y'all care about them? A lot of you would rather these men stay and regress in these relationships than establish them in character building relationships with black women.

We prioritize friendships between people who take baths together but not with men who want to marry their kids to each other and make blood pacts to keep that promise.

With Sara as well, in the show timeline, Jace is 2 days into his engagement with Baela, a role which he prioritized immediately after it was announced. So, about a month into it, he's just stepping away? During a war, when he knows those marriages just secured house Velayron?

His biggest characterization is his insecurity about his bastardy. Would he go out of his way to get with one and then marry her? Making her his queen?

Not when, Mr. Dragons recognize blood, not titles with his dragonseed plan, makes a huge mistake and miscalculation with giving peasants dragons, I think he makes enough mistakes in his life, for me at least.

I don't see how adding Sara romantically adds anything at all, other than a romance that doesn't play into anything later on.

I want to add that it does add to these women and their characters to be in these relationships and actively participate in them.

Baela is going out of her way to push for her and Jace to be married even after seeing her parents' marriage and subsequently their parents' marriage. Choosing to be with the boy who, without hesitation, stood up and fought for her twice against his uncles.

Nettles being called ugly through the narrative, always alluded to be in compromising positions all throughout her life and whose sexual relationships are often treated as a bartering system to gain something, being with a Targaryen prince who prioritizes her happiness and safety. Someone who goes out of their way to be at her side after very traumatic events .

(If you feel the need to explain, go ahead, but it doesn't make sense to me for his character or the timeline in the show. )

I just would like to say it's strange behavior to go out of your way to justify taking relationships and character developments away from black characters for the sake of white ships.

Me to you guys because criticism is often read as condemnation here, and I'm very immature when responding to it now.

[paralyze-fic]

Paralyze.

Chapter 84

The air was tense, I could practically grip it. It was suffocating and the fire around us wasn't doing any good.

"I wasn't aware you would come..." His cold turquoise eyes looked at Endeavor, before they briefly looked my way, and a grin pulled his lips up, "Oh, (M/n) is here too," I clenched my jaw and closed my hands in fists when he called my name, "It's a shame we couldn't take you back then, you would've done great to the League..."

"Dabi..." Endeavor called out to him, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his scarred face, holding his skin together with all those staples, "I heard you killed Snatch."

The smile was gone as he looked at Endeavor, "Sna...? Who?" I felt my anger rising as he dismissed killing a hero like that, "Forget about that, and let's talk since we now have the opportunity," out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the hero trying to stand up, only to fall on his knees once more.

"Endeavor-san, you should rest, I'll handle this," Hawks spoke and took a step in front of us, a way to try and protect us from Dabi, "I have these pathetic wings now, but I can buy us some time," I slightly shook my head and looked at Dabi through the strands of my hair over my face, hiding my eyes from him and I got ready to activate my quirk.

Dabi's grin returned, but it was different than the one before, his arms extended to his sides and tried to appear innocent, "There's no need to get aggressive! I just came to take that Nomu back, I can't possibly beat..." He tilted his head forward, hiding his face from us, and I activated my quirk, "The top heroes when they're this beaten up!"

I stopped his arms as he started to run our way, and the small blue flames that had covered his hands disappeared.

He looked at me and let out a sickening laugh, "That really is a wonderful quirk, (M/n)! Let's take you back to him-" Dabi barely got to take a single step forward, when I heard the sounds of an angry woman.

I didn't even get to look up as Mirko descended in between us, breaking the ground with her attack and forcing Dabi to back up. And I made sure to not look where I shouldn't.

"I jumped over the moment I saw the news!" Her body went up in the air and we were left on the ground to deal with the wind she had caused, "You're part of the League, aren't you? I'll crush you!"

My head throbbed from the pain and I had to close my eyes, looking away from Dabi, giving him the chance to move his arms again, "Just as it was getting good..." I blinked a few times, hoping that the bright light of the fire wouldn't make my head hurt more, and I saw Dabi holding the neck of his coat, "Ujiko-san..."

And there was a black goop coming out of his mouth.

"We'll see each other again, number one."

///////

I opened my eyes the moment I felt my phone vibrate in my pants. Dabi's words continued to linger in my mind, "Don't you dare die, Todoroki Enji!"

The three of us had been taken to the hospital and were reciving medical treatment while also giving our testimonies to the police when they came by, thankfully, we managed to avoid the press for the time being.

A nurse was standing next to me, treating my burnt wounds, they were severe but thanks to his quirk, he said there would be only a rather faint scar, despite all the skin it had reached, although I was also covered in scratches, cuts caused by glass shards and bruises in various places, but nothing life-threatening.

"Why were you at the scene, kid?" The police officer's voice made me look up at her, and I remembered I was still being interrogated, I think she noticed my discomfort and pain, as she smiled at me, "We're almost done, just a few questions left, alright?"

I nodded, and took a deep breath as my arm was getting wrapped in bandages, "Endeavor had asked me to meet up with him regarding Hero Work for school," she wrote on her notepad and hummed.

"Which school do you attend?" I sighed and the nurse finished bandaging my arm, moving now to patch my neck.

"U.A. High School," for a moment she looked up at me and traced around my face, she probably recognized me because her eyes widened the slightest bit, but I noticed.

"Do you have your license?" Without responding I reached for my burnt and torn jacket next to me, on the opposite of where the nurse was, and I pulled down the zipper before taking my license and handing it to her, "Class 1-A, right?" I nodded once at her question and she looked down at my license in her hand.

She inspected it and gave it back soon enough, continuing to write on her notepad.

"Alright, then I'm done," she closed it and pocketed her pen, "You did a good job out there, kid."

And with that, she walked out.

The whole time we spoke, my phone continued to vibrate, so I wasn't sure if someone was calling me or texting me.

"Okay, we're done," the nurse muttered and he picked up the stuff he had used for my wounds, "You'll be staying the night here, but you're free to go if you like."

"Thank you..." I whispered and he smiled, walking out of the room. I moved back on the hospital bed, and laid on the pillow. Honestly, I didn't feel like moving at all, my whole body was in pain and I still had a mild headache, so I definitely wanted to stay in the hospital for the night, but...

I took my phone out of my pocket and turned it on to be bombarded by text after text, and missed call after missed call. From everyone. My parents called and texted me. The class 1-A chat was also filled with texts directed at me. Katsuki was worse than my parents. Hitoshi had texted me a few times as well. And... Aizawa...

Shit, the curfew-!

Right as I was rushing to get up from the bed, I received a text from Aizawa.

Aizawa-sensei;

I've been notified by the hospital that you'll be staying the night.

I'll pick you up tomorrow morning.

I sighed and relaxed once again.

;Sorry, sensei.

;And thank you.

He read it, but didn't respond and I decided to go over to Katsuki's chat. I opened the camera and took a picture of my physical state, but still smiling brightly.

;I'm alright, love.

;Still in one piece~!

;Sorry I made you worry. I'll make it up to you.

I waited anxiously as he received my texts, and the tick marks appeared, indicating they were delivered and soon, read by Katsuki.

I wasn't worried!

Not at all!

I chuckled at his response and I was about to type something else back, but he beat me to it.

However... I'm taking you up on that offer. You better not forget.

;Of course~ anything you want.

After that, there wasn't an answer, so I took my time to type a few quick texts to my parents, Hitoshi and the Class A group chat, telling them I was okay and I would be back at the dorm tomorrow morning.

Their responses were pretty much the same, mentioning they were glad I was okay and mostly uninjured, before wishing me a good night's rest.

++++

I've decided I will post a new chapter whenever I get something done since the manga officially ended :'))) let's enjoy the remaining story of Paralyze while it lasts!!

[queerprayers]

Hello there! I've recently come to the realization that I may be panromantic asexual and was wondering how you learned to accept yourself as God made you? I grew up in a time where the whole "conversion therapy is bad, God will convert you straightness instead!😃" rhetoric was a thing, and I constantly have that in the back of my head. I want to be free, to love, to know that God didn't make a mistake with me and that I'm not lying to myself. I know you don't have all the answers, but thank you for taking the time to read this. I'm praying for nothing but the best for you.

Hi, beloved! Thank you for your prayers. I'm so proud of you for learning more about yourself and being willing to start this journey! Getting that rhetoric out of the back of your head is a hard one. It's hard to free yourself from what you've been taught. Here's some of my journey, and some thoughts!

I had a similar rhetoric taught to me—"Yes, abusive tactics were wrong, and we shouldn't treat queer people badly, and it's not their fault, but they need to not act on their thoughts, they need to not identify with their emotions, and they need to pray more. And even if God doesn't take away their attractions, he'll give them the strength to suffer through heterosexual marriages, which is what we should all strive for!" The thing about realizing you're queer is it doesn't take those beliefs/instincts away. This is why there are a large number of homophobic gay people, and also why there's an even larger number of people like us, who know what we believe, but sometimes can't get rid of the stuff we used to/were taught to believe. 

I started questioning my identity around age 13. And the one thing I decided on was that I couldn't be gay. I just couldn't be. I knew what gay people were, and I didn't hate them, but I knew what my parents said about them (that they were confused/sinful/sick), and I wasn't them. And I have a very clear memory of a journal page from middle school—I'm sure it's still around somewhere. It was titled "What I Would Do If I Was Gay." Now looking back this is hilarious, and not really something one writes if they're straight. But being the organized human being I was, I had a plan. I don't remember all the bullet points, but I know one of them went something like, "Decide on a man that I wouldn't mind marrying. Be nice to him." Again, hilarious, very straight I promise. But I was following what I had been taught. The last bullet point was, if all else fails, to die, because that's the only future I could imagine for myself if I couldn't live the way my parents wanted me to. You internalize this stuff, and imagining a future in which you're free is the hardest thing in the world sometimes. 

I am here to say—and I'll say it over and over again to as many people as I can—that there is a future. We have so much beautiful time. So much of the pain I've been through involved a failure of imagination—I couldn't imagine a future for myself, so I assumed it didn't exist. There's such a lack of trust there, both in myself and in God. The first step (besides admitting to myself that yes, I was some flavor of queer) was trusting. That I couldn't see a world in which I was okay with myself, but that there was one. And I would get there someday.

The beginning was surrounding myself with people and communities that were affirming. I couldn't leave my home—partially because I was a kid, and partially because I didn't want to (I still haven't)—but I had the internet. If you dig deep enough on my personal Tumblr (please don't, I'm begging you), I was calling myself a straight ally—I've been on here a long time. Tumblr was the first place where I really saw queer people just… being normal? I didn't know any out people in my life, and so my ideas of queer people were stories and ideas and news articles. But I remember the first time I saw someone just, casually mention being gay, and it blew my mind. Because they were normal, and they weren't afraid. And if they could be, I could be. A Google search led me to Queer Theology, which is still a beloved resource of mine. And slowly, the people I followed and the friends I made and the websites I visited… they were queer. And suddenly it wasn't a bad word, it was just… how some people were. And I hated myself and my identity viciously, but I never hated them. 

That was one thing I held onto. My friends started coming out to me (yeah, we all ended up queer), and I responded with joy and love. I didn't have that for myself, not yet, but knowing I had it at all kept me going. The thing that helped me love myself the most in life is paying attention to how I treated others. Love your neighbor as yourself. (Confession: sometimes I'm thinking a bad thing. And I imagine that someone on this very blog put the bad thing in my inbox. And I know what I would do: I would validate their feelings, and maybe find some ways to feel better, or give them some things to read, and remind them they're loved, and pray for them. Why am I different? Why do I uniquely deserve to be alone? And I do those things, for me.) Sometimes you have to ask, if a friend was going through this, what would I say to them? And that's what you should say to yourself. I'm willing to bet you are free and loving and supportive of other queer people. Not that you're perfect, etc. etc., but that you are a good friend. You've been lovely to me! Maybe not now, but someday, you will be able to give that to yourself.

Another question I ask myself: When have I been a better, more loving Christian—when I was repressed and self-hating, or after I accepted my identity? And the answer, in every way, is the second. Self-hatred is just another form of self-centering. I don't say this to blame or guilt anyone, but it is a truth I had to process. I used to worry every day about every single thought I was having, and call myself the worst person alive, and sit around hating myself, and worrying about my future. Now obviously this was partially because I'm severely mentally ill, and also because of the homophobia I had been taught, and I don't blame my past self. But the reality is that I was so consumed by myself that I wasn't really… being a person. And if I had kept going like that, if I was right now forcing myself into heterosexual relationships and curbing my self-expression and despising my love and terrified of the Bible, I would be a selfish, lonely person. And I wouldn't be much of a Christian. But right now? Loving and celebrating myself, seeking fulfilling relationships, finding joy in God? I am a better person, a better Christian, for being affirming. Whenever I get a thought, an instinctual, intrusive thought from the past, telling me to go back there, to that place, I remind myself that God asks me to be loving and faithful, and this is where I am loving and faithful. And in the future, hopefully I will grow into more love and faith than I can even imagine right now. But I can't go back. Wherever you are right now, know that you could use your energy to center yourself, to repress and erase yourself, or you could use it to love. To let yourself exist, and live a life. Be a person. And no God I would worship would prefer the former.

Re: mistakes: Something I learned from exploring queer Christianity is that our religion is made so much better by queer people. The art, theology, and joy that queer people bring to Christianity is not a mistake, it is a purposeful diversifying of the human experience that God welcomes. "Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law." There are no mistakes. There is evil to defeat, and there is suffering to overcome, and there is the fulfillment of God's law through love. We're fulfilling the law, right now, by having this conversation—we both approached it with love.

Re: lying to ourselves: Usually when we worry about this, we're worried that we're wrong. That we'll feel differently tomorrow, and this is proof that we were lying. But that's not what lying is. There aren't very many permanent senses of self. It is generally harmful to consider queerness a phase, and it's not the lens through which we should view people's identity, but the reality is that we don't know everything all at once, and there are phases of emotion/experience. There are times when I question my gender identity, and times when I feel completely comfortable as the gender I was born with. I'm not lying to myself during either of those times, and those experiences are not less real because they don't last forever. You have recently come to a realization regarding who you might be; you've found words that might describe you. Unless you are purposely sending me lies (this would be a very strange thing to lie about), you are communicating to me an honest experience and interpretation. It may be that since you sent this ask (a regrettably long time ago), you interpret your experiences differently, or feel differently about sex/attraction, or any number of things. This doesn't mean you've lied—it means you're a person. God created you with the ability to grow and change, and this is a good and holy thing. Whatever words feel right to you at this moment, whatever experiences you're having, you're here now, and that is the truth. Tomorrow is a new day, with new space for truth. Not knowing everything isn't lying, and being wrong isn't lying, and changing isn't lying, and not seeing the whole picture isn't lying. It's just existing.

I've said a lot. I think I've said what I wanted to say. In summary: it takes time, and changing your environment, and constant self-reminding re: your values; and lacking imagination isn't the same thing as lacking a future; and wanting to be free is the only way you get to freedom; and you already have love, you just have to nurture it; and you're not faking or lying or a mistake, you're a person. I learned to accept myself by accepting others, and remembering I'm just as worthy of love as they are, and by validating my truth even as it changed, and by remembering that being queer (or rather, loving and living out my queerness) has made me a better person and Christian.

What gets you to self-acceptance might be radically different, but I pray it's just as life-changing, and I know it'll be worth it. Peace be with you.

<3 Johanna

[mobolanz]

Who is clingy?

Who said "I love you" first?

Do they dance? If so, who's better?

Feel free to ignore if you got those before though😁

Okie dokie thanks for the ask!😆✨

Let's see alrighttt:

Who's the clingy one?

I want to say Reiner because this is big hunky teddy bear we're talking about but like,,, really just if they're secretive enough Considering their relationship wouldn't be well precieved- so smartest to not arouse any suspicions. Not to mention his own self-loathing on how on earth anyone like that even touches him and doesn't go wash right away.

Same argument can be said for Evelyn, affectionate and sweet and dainty as she is and the attachment/abandoment issues add up,,, no wait, it's almost improper of her and can trouble him should anyone eye them. It's selfish, needy and greedy on her part and she shouldn't want it nor encourage it if he feels the same like some wretch.

So ultimately neither? Yet both at the same time can be should the circumstances be right? They're so built for it by any sense of the word emotionally and physically but can't have it without extreme caution even though it's never truly enough with extreme caution and it doesn't work like that even if they want to protect the other's safety and image alike and that's a priority for true love but that just makes the affection even more earned and rewarding and it's so unfairrrr!!! (⁠┛⁠◉⁠Д⁠◉⁠)⁠┛⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

So if anything, should they actually be given a chance, it's intense of the hunger, yet gentle from the initiation.

That said, if you do want to get a sense of what them being all touchy is like, may I turn you to this post and also suggest waiting for my fic's first chapter for some classic wounds tending in the middle of the night after one's toughest battle yet🤧

Who says I love you first?

I answered about it once before but more in the "who confessed first" fashion, the answer was Reiner.

But thinking more on how the conversation would go, I don't think it'd be a simple and explicit 'I love you' present. More of about ten different ways to say it, admitting he has strong feelings, that she's on his mind so often it hurts, that he can't handle the idea of anything being done to Evelyn from being too close or daring to enter a relationship with her or hurting her himself with the aftermath of his term almost ending etc etc. So he treats it like a 'tell her and be truly done with it' like he had done certain other time in the past, and should he actually say those three words explicitly, he'll fall all over and it's too late.

So "I love you" for admitting that's what he feels? Reiner.

"I love you' For saying those specific three words and standing behind the intent in them? Evelyn herself. And Reiner follows right after.

Do they dance? If so, who's better?

I did mentioned in my last ask indeed that dancing is right up there in optional ways Reiner offers to spend Evy's birthday with her sooo yeup!:D . On who's better,,, I think it's almost balanced? But leaning towards evy. Leading/initiating wise? Reiner.(gentleman <\3) Overall professional/formal approach on the steps? Evelyn. :3

OC Relationship asks