#and they have no desire to actually help in any capacity

[supernalspirits]

Fuck Amazon. I don’t mean this in a general “fuck capitalism” sort of way, I just hope that they and their shitty, useless, accusatory “account specialists” legitimately burn in hell.

[zorthania]

A piece about survivors guilt.

This comic isn't perfect. I started it back in October 2023, and every time I picked up my pen, I wept.

I bring this to you today, on 9/11, in hopes that you reflect on this day a little differently than how most Americans would. Let it move you to continue to boycott, protest and challenge your family, friends and colleagues. You have a bigger impact than you would believe.

Thank you for reading this with an open heart.

From the river to the sea...

I'd like to bring to attention the fact that the figures depicted above are a gross undercount of the actual number of deaths. I scoured the internet high and low to source my findings and not a single one could break down the devastation that befell an individual ethnicity. Instead, they lumped a bunch of ethnicities together, provided a general timeline, and called it a day, reinforcing the sheer scale of dehumanization propagated in the west. The only consistency between all the articles I looked up was the 4.5 to 4.7 million figure I've included above, and even then, they were all published by western media news outlets... the very same that have been so unreliable and complicit in the genocide of Palestinians today. So I have to take everything they say with a grain of salt.

We are not just numbers.

All of us have ambitions and desires and lives worth living.

With that said, this is your friendly reminder to:

Donate an e-sim

Donate to PCRF to provide Palestinian children aid

Donate to Pious Projects to provide woman with feminine hygiene kits

Donate to CareForGaza to provide food to displaced families in Gaza either through their Gofundme or their paypal

Donate to any of the vetted gofundme campaigns on GazaFunds to help Palestinians trying to flee Gaza.

And if you or someone you know sees or experiences a hate crime and can afford it, SUE. This is a more effective use of your money than most realise. The reason zionists act with impunity is because of the normalization of white supremacy and oppression of ethnic minorities. Challenging that in any capacity tells them that there are consequences to their actions and makes them think twice before engaging in hate crimes and helps raise all of us up against the systems currently in place that let them get away with it.

If you can't donate or spend any money, you can:

Do your daily clicks.

Boycott targeted companies on the BDS list (if you're like me and you don't want a single dollar to go towards anything supporting Israel right now, you can use Bdnaash to double check what products are okay to buy, but the BDS list is sufficient as it is a strategic attack and proven very effective thus far)

Flood your representatives emails and voicemails with how you won't be voting for them unless their politics align with an immediate ceasefire in Gaza.

Attend a protest, be LOUD.

Challenge your circle of friends, family and colleagues with conversations about Palestine. (THIS IS THE MOST UNDERRATED AND MOST EFFECTIVE THING YOU CAN DO)

and if you're really up to, be disruptive in any capacity that you can think of towards major corporations benefiting from this onslaught. (i.e. halting military manufacturers from production + shipments, sticking boycott stickers on products at your market etc)

And finally, if your country wasn't mentioned in the above excerpt, it was no deliberate omission on my part and I encourage you to come forward and tell your story about the suffering of your people so that this may be a learning opportunity for everyone.

You are seen.

You are not alone.

Thank you again if you've read this far.

From the river to the sea...

[theminecraftbee]

because it amused my friends but is also a useful metaphor, i'm going to tell a story now: so there was this one time i punched my dentist.

i have never done something like that before or since. i was getting a filling, see, very routine. (side note: i quite liked that dentist; he has since retired but he's always been not exactly "nice" but not mean about things like this. had a specific manner that worked well with my anxiety.) the dentist numbed the nerve that went to that part of my jaw and got stuff to start on the work.

what neither he nor i knew was this: i was actually in the small percentage of people that actually needed a SECOND nerve numbed to fully numb that part of my face. so when he started trying to do the "drill the cavity and give the filling" part, i started to feel pain. now, he'd warned me ahead of time this was a possibility! there was a thing i was supposed to do if that happened!

what actually happened is that my brain went: "I NEED TO MAKE THIS STOP I'M GONNA PUNCH THIS GUY".

i then immediately burst into tears.

luckily my dentist is a dentist and has had people fight-or-flight far more spectacularly and also far more effectively given that i don't know how to hit people. i managed to do exactly jack shit and he was bemused afterwards.

the thing is: this was not a sensible response to the situation! the dentist still had both a drill and a needle! i was way more likely to hurt myself than the dentist! my brain did not care. i was experiencing an adrenaline response, my brain felt helpless in the face of the pain to flight, so fight it was.

anyway, that's the emotion i am currently experiencing. i do not have the capacity to flight. so goddamn is my brain trying to find a good way to punch the problem.

this isn't a BAD impulse--hitting the dentist DID make him remove the drill from my mouth--but it's an impulse more likely to hurt me than help me unless i take a moment to go "maybe i SHOULDN'T punch the guy holding sharp objects right at my face", because it's not a rational brain response, it's a pure instinctive response. and it's an indicator i'm in fight-or-flight and should do everything in my power to avoid making any decisions that can't be undone, be those decisions "impulsively buy a bunch of tea" or far more severe.

my brain is currently trying to punch the dentist, and by the dentist i mean the election. i am not trustworthy.

but what i CAN do is this: i am going to volunteer at my local homeless shelters. this is an action i can channel my desire to punch the problem into that will help someone. look up your local volunteer organizations. organize into action. and do something that's more like "inform the dentist in the way you planned ahead of time that you're hurting" than "punch him and nearly get your eye poked out", you know?

and we will continue.

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your Fall Awakening

✧ "I loved watching the base of those thunderstorms, the billowing tops of the cumulonimbus, the lightning that effortlessly lit up the lake and the sky. It was gorgeous, so energetic. I was in love." - Ginger Zee

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you. Also, the tense changes from past to present to future, I hope this doesn't make the reading difficult.

Also! Thank you so much to everyone who put in a paid reading request, when my life stabilizes, those will be on the top of my priority list. <3

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

Pile One (King of Cups, 5oC, The Sun, The Knight of Cups)

This energy feels sudden but fated. This year’s eclipse season has been insane and you were always destined to reach a cosmic juncture of complete renewal around this time. The scales are tipping in your favor and this is your season to receive. 

This is my emotionally attuned pile. You were a sensitive child—a walking bundle of warmth and acceptance—until people took advantage of your gentle soul. You could have been the typical sunshine kid always giggling, easily making connections, and being a bright energy people were easily attracted to. Whether or not you were aware of it, people saw your capacity for love and happiness as intimidating and “fake”. Their reality did not shine as bright as yours so they could not fathom your authentic happiness.

That doesn’t mean people did not try to take advantage of your gentleness. Society associates friendliness/happiness as weakness and sees you as an easy target to get over on. Being trusting isn’t naivety, it isn’t your fault that you extended your time and resources to greedy people, it is their loss that they ruined a genuine connection because they were too far gone in their own misery to recognize a helping hand out of the shadows. 

This is a general reading so the details of what happened vary greatly, for most of you, there was a series of traumatic events involving your interpersonal relationships that scarred your heart. I visually see a wilting flower or a chest caving in on itself. 

Betrayal, cheating, abuse, years and years of lying, bullying, isolation, being ignored, and just overall feeling less important than the other people in your life.

But we don’t need to get into the nitty gritty of that bullshit. That chapter is closed, burned, and a renewed phoenix is rising from its ashes. 

To any other person, these events would have turned them rotten and nasty, but you never passed this hurt onto others, you just held onto it and kept holding on until it slowly drained and left all the cavities in your body empty and numb. You’re used to depletion, giving and giving, but being left in the dust after everyone else gets their fill and moves on.

Listen to me, you are stepping into your rainfall- the world revolves around you- era. You’re being rewarded for your resilience and “the cycle ends with me” attitude. A hurt person hurt you and you turned that into further reason why you would never be so cruel to another soul.

You got the sun, the best fucking card in the deck, right in the middle of your spread. With the lies you’ve been fed over the years, at some point on your journey, you got lost in the illusions of lack and fear. Fear that you weren’t enough and less than the magnificent being you truly are.

But this juncture is like a lightning strike of clarity to your consciousness, you are realizing that this journey is just that… a journey. A life lesson circling you back to your power so you can acknowledge just how fucking desirable your heart actually is.

People tried to rob you of your happiness because they wanted it. People tried to squash your kindness because they wanted it. People abused your time and energy because they yearned for it but could never have it. Think about it, if you had nothing of value, they wouldn’t have plotted on the resources you offered. 

We’ve all heard the saying, “You don’t know how good you have something until you lose it.” Life put you on this course of being on top, hitting rock bottom (deep depression), and then climbing up again so you can cultivate the strength to have a sensitive soul and defend it against all the greedy hands who want a piece. 

This journey taught you discernment, who to trust and who not to trust. It taught you how to pick yourself up and dust off. You learned to be stingy with your time and treat yourself as high value. Most importantly, you experienced your first full cycle of rebirth, where you learn that even your lowest of lows are temporary and it is universal law that all things eventually come to an end to be reborn bigger and better.��

True strength is seeing the world’s ugliness and not letting it taint you. You’ve been the victim of cruel actions and you wouldn’t dare enforce those on anyone else. The universe honors people like you. You were always meant to experience this upcoming win fall.

If you’re reading this, you’re already beginning to feel it. Shifts like this happen internally before manifesting externally. You step outside and the world looks more… romantic.

You can feel it in your bones that you are about to receive your fairytale life. The moon is smiling back at you and the stars are spelling out your name.

Embrace this Knight of cups energy and follow the whims of your heart, they’re leading you to your new timeline. Fall in love with yourself and acknowledge the battle you not only survived but won. 

P.S. Little you is so motherfucking proud of who you are and what you stand for. They knew you would make it back to them. It pained them to see you lost in other people’s lies but they never doubted your capability to see love in life again. Your kid self lived and breathed this joy and they knew nobody could truly take it from them. They are happy to see you realize it too.  

"Sometimes, the strongest roots grow in the softest soil."

Pile Two (King of Swords rev., King of Pentacles, 10oW, Queen of Wands rev.)

YOU ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH! There is no fucking reason to fixate on changing yourself when you are already perfect as it is, sugar plum!

You carried your family’s burdens up a verrry long mountain. You were trekking through life with a generational weight strapped on your back. Your greatest devil was expectations. 

You were told who you should be, what you should do, how you should act, what you should believe in. 

There weren’t many loving voices in your home, your efforts were met with harsh critiques and a heavier load on your plate. This is the classic case of being pushed beyond limits no child should have to reach. In your upbringing, it was perfection or nothing. Not only did you have to excel academically, you had to be attractive and have a thriving social life, do extracurriculars, and anything else that exemplified you as a model child and citizen. 

And even then, when you did all those things, you didn’t get the proper acknowledgment or congratulations you deserved. Lots of you just got higher expectations set after you proved you could reach an already unrealistic standard. God forbid you didn’t reach those standards, some of you got shunned or abused. 

Sometimes you felt more like a project your people flaunted rather than someone they authentically loved and cared for.

This fucked with your young psyche. I mean… what's the point!? You jump through all these hoops to barely get a pat on the back? Yeah, you seemed perfect on the outside but internally, you were teeming with self-hate and the contempt of not being enough for anyone. 

I am getting frustrated just channeling this message, damn you deserved so much more! 

(Do you get migraines or tension headaches?)

This is my pile of people who did not get the privilege of choosing their own career path. Your guardians told you to study to become a doctor, engineer, scientist, artist, or whatever the hell they wanted to flaunt as an extension of themselves. 

But get this, your people didn’t do that shit either! They push so hard for you to be someone they’re not because they’re projecting their (fear of) failure onto you. 

For some (those who were not ignored or abused), it wasn’t malicious. They pushed you to be great because they wanted the best for you, but the way they handled it was fucked up.

There was a lot of fear about falling short of expectations and disappointing the people around you. Creating this mindset that you had to perform for affection and needed to prove that you were of value to people in order to be loved.

Some of you heavily rebelled against this authoritarian force in your life. Explicitly, through using sex to satiate your desire to feel loved. Like with your family, you viewed love as transactional and went into “relationships” with people who disguised their lust for you as love but only truly wanted to exploit your vulnerable state.

I am sorry you did not deserve that, you are better with those energies out of your life. 

BAAABBBYYYY, this season is rinsing out all that gunk between your ears and pushing the weight off your back. Can you feel your spine unfurl?

This season you’re letting all the bullshit go. You’re garnering strength the rest of society only talks about. You’re looking at yourself in the mirror and saying that nobody’s expectations are worth living a life you don’t want to live. Those people were empowered by you not recognizing your own capability, they were the only measurement of how worthy you were and the only source of the approval you craved. 

(why won't this center???^)

You’re awakening to just how much of a bad mf you truly are! You’re the king of pentacles- you’re your own empire! You’re reclaiming your power and acknowledging that with all the time and effort you put into building someone else’s dreams, you have the strength to build your own!

With every challenge thrown at you, YOU BODY THAT SHIT!

I’m getting chills, I feel like a hype man lmao. I’m your biggest fan fr. I want you on my team! You’re an irreplaceable asset that anyone would be blessed to work with. 

All the pressure you faced has forged you into a one-of-a-kind gemstone and you are shining brightly! 

This journey taught you the power of control and how to take the reigns of your own chariot. You will never allow another soul to take your will from you again. 

*Clears throat* Don’t tell anyone I said this but… expect your life to blossom in ways you can’t even begin to fathom.

Your 5th house: leisure, pleasure, romance, creativity, and your 10th house: higher self, your image, and how you carry yourself once you leave the shadows is getting a major activation.  

The dreams of your future that you wouldn’t dare whisper to the people in your life are being heard by Source and they’re being packaged (with a cute lil bow) behind the scenes, ready to be delivered at your feet. I am not kidding, your oracle cards are: 10th house, 5th house, Venus, fated meeting, and “Blessings you couldn’t even dream of are walking to your front door”.

There is a special emphasis on your creative endeavors, unleash the side of you that was shunned, and allow it to garner the love and attention that has always been meant for you! It is your time to live life the way you’ve always wanted to. 

P.S. People don’t want to hear it because getting your expectations high is a “bad” thing or whatever, but you will meet someone. It’s a fated meeting and you two are meant for each other. Royal love. You got all court cards and while I was typing, “one-of-a-kind” autocorrected to “one-of-a-king”. 

Pressure Reveals Our Brilliance

Pile Three (10oS Rev., 10oW, 8oP, Queen of Swords, Emperor)

Growing up, my mom always told me that when we feel like we’re wandering aimlessly, we’re actually slowly inching closer to where we’re meant to be.

I pass these words of wisdom on to you because you know the pain of wandering all too well. When you were younger, your energy was unadulterated and you dreamt big without any doubt creeping around your skull to sully your aspirations. You are naturally a very ambitious person with a killer drive to get shit done.

However, something shifted. I don’t think it was a specific event, it happened over time. The wrong people and painful situations slowly chipped away at your spark for life until your body lost its will and you slowly staggered to the ground with all ten swords in your back. 

There was a dense fog around who you were and what you wanted. You questioned your desires and your ability to achieve them, growing more frustrated with your own confusion. Until eventually, you stopped dreaming. Anything to curb the painful disappointment of feeling like a person coming from a broken mold. Or a human without an outline, just an indistinct blur melting into the background. 

I feel static in my bones. I see that your shadows locked you in place- paralyzed. Limited only to the realms in your head as you watch the world evolve and move on without you.

This pile struggles with the most intense anxiety. Have you seen Inside Out 2? There is a scene where the anxiety emotion goes into overdrive and can’t remove herself from the control panel and Riley has an ongoing panic attack. For a huge chunk of your life, your anxiety couldn’t release itself from the command center. Your whole life has felt like you’ve been holding your breath, waiting for the panic attack to subside. 

You’re a nervous nelly, I’m afraid. Not to be offensive, but I imagine a nervous, wet chihuahua shaking like a leaf (haha, been there).

Something about your friendships and the negative influence of others is important. The ten of swords is typically a betrayal card. These situations left you with an aching sense that you didn’t have control over the direction of your life, so you spent your days worrying about everything that has and will go wrong.

Maybe people told you that you weren’t capable? Maybe you felt like you didn't measure up to the people around you who had direction in their lives.

You have a lot of energy, pent-up energy. It is actually one of your blessings, you have an abundance of energy to achieve all that you set your mind to. But these traumatic events locked up this vitality and prevented it from being properly expressed. It didn’t go away, it got transmuted into mental energy and you “thought” yourself to death. 

It’s funny—you probably daydream about taking action and doing the everyday things that others do without a second thought. For them, it’s normal, but for you, it’s a wild dream. 

This is my late bloomer pile. The things people your age typically do, you haven’t gotten around to because you can’t seem to get your body and mind on the same accord. 

You had restless energy, your body was always on but not in motion. Think of a tightly stretched rubber band aching to be released anywhere but stuck in this moment of tension. You felt the pull, the urge to leap into action, yet something held you back—whether it was doubt, hesitation, or simply the weight of expectation. Each day was a reminder of your potential, a constant yearning to break free and finally express that energy in a meaningful way. But, the second you went in for the kill, your bones locked up and left you stagnant.

I want to cry writing this. Your wishes are so simple and you will get them tenfold, quote me. 

This season you are getting the key to freedom from your mental prison- clarity. Clarity on just how possible everything is. You are awakening to the world at your fingertips and the very road map woven into your heart.

It sounds silly, but you dream of work! You want to go out and create without paralyzing fear looming over your shoulder. This is your deepest desire because you are meant to do it. You’re the fucking emperor AND the queen of swords. Your name is meant to be plastered on a building somewhere, and no amount of fear or doubt is going to keep you from that. 

This journey taught you how to build mental fortitude and define yourself. You won’t listen to any voice that prevents you from living the life you want to live, not even your own. The next time you get stabbed in the back, you won’t even flinch and you sure as hell won’t stop your motion. 

You don’t need to think, just be. Your feet will take you to where you need to go.

(Shoutout to my Rahuvians!)

Your wildest dreams have been heard and answered, and you’re beginning to find your direction again. I know it’s hard to believe, especially after spending so much of your life in an illusionary prison—a mental construct that felt all too real. But take a deep breath and allow those bars to melt away. Remember, this chapter is just that: a chapter in your life. You are ready to turn the page and embark on a new adventure, one that could be your very first! Embrace the possibilities ahead, and tell any lingering fears to shut the fuck up and kick rocks.

This next phase in your life is anything but slow, it’s a complete 180 from what you’re used to. Get ready to be a busy bee and in high demand. Your mind and body will be sharp, focused, and honed in on your craft. You are mastering something and achieving great success. “Blessings you couldn’t even dream of are walking to your front door.”

P.S. I know that was a long, agonizing, period in your life but jump for joy now that it’s over! I promise you, it truly is!! Don’t stress about the past or worry about what you should or could have done differently. You did everything perfectly and you were always meant to be where you are right now. 

I know this might sound cliché, but the situation was out of your hands. The lesson was about learning to surrender control and trusting in the only constant in life: change. Nothing lasts forever, your pain is temporary. Trust that this experience has shaped you, and now you have the opportunity to step forward with newfound strength and resilience. Embrace the future—it’s waiting for you!

She's Using the Colors of Her Aura to Define Her Being

Pile Four (2oP, 7oW, 4oW, 90P, Clear, Third Eye Chakra, 1st House, Pluto)

Hmmm, pentacles (earth​ = stay and grow, grow, grow) and wands (fire = go, go, go)… “Should I stay or should I go?” 

Nobody wants to hear it, but you’re being pushed into hermit mode. But fear not! ☝🏾 This will be your last and most peaceful retreat. You’re caught in a battle between the urge to slow down and prioritize your wellness and the temptation to jump up and grind. Embrace this time for reflection and self-care—it’s essential for your growth. When you take the time to recharge, you’ll emerge stronger and more focused, ready to tackle whatever comes next with renewed energy. Trust that this phase is necessary for your journey.

The right answer is a blend of both. Make a steady meditation and fitness plan you can rely on where you feel productive yet kept to yourself. Your energy is sensitive at this time and people are going to try and purposely trigger you because they can sense that you’re getting ready to pop out and do your mf jig!

You are crazy intuitive and are awakening to this fact, but just like the start of any journey, you’re trying to find a balance between your intuition and judgment.

Spoiler alert, they're the same thing! 

ESPECIALLY for you. Check to see if you have Pluto, Ketu (south node), Jupiter (Sag or Pisces), Mars (Aries or Scorpio), or Moon (Cancer) in your first, fourth, seventh, or tenth house. Or literally anything in your eighth house.

You are blessed with the ability to see beyond the veil of illusion and are meant to nurture and refine this gift. Embrace it as a powerful tool for understanding yourself and the world around you. Trust your intuition and allow it to guide you through challenges, helping you uncover deeper truths. 

This season is bringing changes to your physical body and immediate environment, you feel most vulnerable to the weather changes and are probably having trouble sleeping. You are likely feeling tension between your eyebrows and are seeing images that aren't actually there. 

You’re experiencing a third eye awakening and a major karmic clearing, this is my most spiritual pile by far. If you’re not into these types of things, this isn’t your pile. Actually, this group really stands out from the others, I don’t have advice for you per se; this message is to assure you that you’re not delusional. 

I am here to tell you to trust what you’re seeing. You’re right! Whatever you think is happening… is happening. If you think great things are coming, they absolutely are. Conversely, if you feel that something shady is going on behind the scenes, then that’s exactly what’s unfolding. Trust your instincts; they’re guiding you toward the truth.

Here’s a secret about intuitive judgment: If the thoughts are causing anxiety and plaguing you with fear, they’re not true. On the other hand, if your instincts provide insight into a situation and help you feel more in control, you’re on the right track. Even if the truth is harsh or painful, knowing it empowers you to make informed decisions about your next move. 

The truth is enlightening, even if it leads to a tower moment where everything you thought you knew comes crumbling down. Lies may feel comforting at first, but they can slowly trap you, binding you to a life that isn’t truly yours. Your soul craves deep transformation and healing. It may sound cryptic, but this is your season to die and allow yourself to be reborn anew. Embrace the intensity of Scorpio season; it’s a powerful time for you to shed old skin and welcome a higher version of yourself. 

Who is this higher version? You have been cultivating them bit by bit with every trial thrown your way and it is finally time for them to rise to the surface. This version embodies your resilience, wisdom, and strength, shaped by your experiences and the lessons learned along the way. Embrace this transformation and let your true self shine. You are ready to step into your power and create the life you’ve always envisioned.

(Any Mula natives in the chat?)

I am excited for you, it’ll be tiring and unpleasant but the world waiting for you on the other side is one of bountiful harvests and celebrations! Hang in there! 

Embrace the slowness and allow yourself to relax while it's here because this next chapter is TURNT. 

P.S. You’re hot—like really, incredibly sexy. Your gaze is piercing, and people feel as though you see straight through them into depths they aren’t even aware of. You don’t have to do much to unsettle others; they’re easily triggered because they can’t hide behind the safety of their masks when they’re around you. Your authenticity and intensity shine through, making them confront their own truths. Embrace that power; it’s a gift that not everyone possesses!

She Follows the Blueprint Woven Into Her Flesh

[ckret2]

idk if you've ever answered this before (probably, the answer is always probably) but is Bill, like... capable of empathy? Of sympathy? Of love (any kind) or compassion? I guess what I'm asking is how does he relate to other people? Are they all just tools and idle amusements, or does he develop any actual genuine (positive??) attachment to them?

Everything I know about him comes from 8+ year old memories of a cartoon I haven't rewatched since, and discourse I see through your blog, so I'm not sure what the canon consensus is but your word is god enough to me on at least your specific interpretation of Bill.

(I guess it would be moot to ask why he's so fucked up. Feel free to ignore any and all of this ask, it's 12 AM and I'm trawling the web before bed)

for my specific interpretation of Bill? Have this post about empathy and a couple of posts about romantic love. (Okay—three about romance.)

But now let's forget about my interpretation and talk canon.

Empathy! You can roughly split empathy into two categories: "I can logically identify and understand what you're feeling" empathy, and "when you're sad i feel sad and when you're happy I feel happy" empathy.

We absolutely know that Bill has "I understand what you're feeling" empathy, because he uses it again and again to manipulate his victims. He has VERY good emotional intelligence. He understands his victims' insecurities, their desires, how to make them feel happy, angry, ashamed, trustful, mistrustful; he knows when and how to manipulate them based on their mood to maximum effect; etc. We see it in how he manipulates Dipper & Mabel in the show; we see it in how he turns Ford against Fiddleford in Journal 3; we see it in TBOB and on thisisnotawebsitedotcom in the way he talks about how and why he manipulated Ford.

We have no evidence he experiences "I feel what you feel" empathy. That doesn't necessarily mean he DOESN'T, but there's no evidence for it. Never see him get excited just because someone else is excited, never see him cringe sympathetically when someone else is hurt. You could say "maybe on top of being a manipulation tactic, when Bill relates to Ford's estrangement from his family by talking about his destroyed universe, he's also feeling empathy for his situation," but you could also just as easily say "nah it's just manipulation."

Common sense would say well, if he feels other people's pain, it would be harder for him to manipulate, betray, and hurt people so blithely. But we're not talking about common sense, we're talking about canon evidence! It's possible for empathetic people to hurt other people; they can just... learn not to care about that person's feelings. Which is particularly easy to do if the target is someone the person sees as "less important" or dehumanizes them. Bill sees everyone as less important than him. We can't rule either way on whether or not he's got a capacity for emotional empathy we just never see. All we can say for sure is he doesn't appear to turn it on for anyone we see.

Though we see him come close. Although he doesn't feel with any of the Pines, we can see him relate to Ford (during Weirdmageddon, throughout TBOB), to Stan (on TINAWDC), and to Mabel (in TBOB and the Dipper & Mabel's Guide book) via projecting his struggles and beliefs on to them. But in a way this is sort of, reverse empathy?; it doesn't let him feel how they feel, but it makes him assume they feel the way he does.

Sympathy! The definitions of empathy vs sympathy vs compassion are contested so I'm gonna present the definitions I'm using for this post: empathy is "i [feel/understand] what you feel" and sympathy is "i care about how you feel." There's a couple of moments in his interactions with Ford in TBOB that are blatantly manipulative (when he shows Ford what's left of his dimension; to a lesser extent, when he "helps" Ford celebrate his birthday) that might also secondarily be fleeting displays of sympathy. It's ambiguous.

Compassion! Compassion is "i'm moved to help because of how you feel." There's a moment in TBOB when he gets so irritated at Puritan misogyny that he teaches a bunch of Puritan wives how to be witches and has a girls' night burning men at the stake with them. He apparently gets no benefits from this himself, aside from funsies. Is he motivated by compassion for the ladies or ONLY by irritation at how boring the men are? Again, ambiguous.

In TBOB when discussing his exploits in the Nightmare Realm, he mentions freeing patients from insane asylums and criminals from prisons. He also repeatedly mentions disliking captivity. He might be motivated by compassion derived from empathy for prisoners. He doesn't present his motives.

Love! He calls the Henchmaniacs his "family," repeatedly brings up their worries about being erased from reality, and says he takes his party hosting duties to them very seriously. We don't know whether he actually cared about them, or merely called them a family in recognition of their consistent loyalty and obedience. He's pretty disrespectful/violent toward them but that isn't incompatible with being emotionally invested in them beyond their utility. We don't have confirmation he cares for them, or confirmation he doesn't.

Hidden in TBOB and absolutely riddled through TINAWDC are references to his parents caring about him and tender quotes. When he's so blind drunk he doesn't know where he is, he tries to call his mom and asks her to make him a sandwich after school. We know he resents how they pathologized a mutation he was born with; beyond that we can't confirm whether or not he loved them; but just beneath the surface, he's unceasingly haunted by how they loved him.

Romantic love! I wrote a post about the evidence for/against romantic attraction in TBOB. He's confirmed to have at least two ex girlfriends; in the book, he mentions missing them both. He mentions having "seduced" galaxies; we don't know whether these seductions were sexual, sexual+romantic, or metaphorical. He denies having in the exes in the same book where he discusses them, and claims that love is the pupa for hate.

You can choose to interpret this multiple ways. To me it reads most strongly as "he's been in love but sucks at maintaining a relationship because he's an asshole, and he's got sour grapes about it"; but you could read it as "he wants love but his relationships fall apart because he can't feel it and he doesn't examine why" or "the relationships were based on something other than romantic love" and not technically be wrong based on the evidence we have. What we know for sure: he's had multiple relationships; he misses them; he tries to deny they happened; he claims love's dumb.

Genuine attachment to his tools! Bill claims torturing Ford was normal Henchmaniac hazing and he wanted him to join the gang. (Dubious evidence of emotional attachment.) He goes on a raging bender when Ford refuses to join him and escapes before Bill can torture him into joining. (Stronger evidence of emotional attachment.) In Weirdmageddon, seconds after Ford tried to murder Bill, he asks Ford to join him and then turns him into a statue he carries around everywhere when Ford refuses—and this is BEFORE he discovers Ford might still have a practical use for him.

On TINAWDC, he has an exchange that boils down to "Ford was just a tool?" "You say that like it's a bad thing!" "So you never cared about him?" "I didn't say that." He goes on to refer to Ford as his pet and henchman. Demeaning—but, people do feel positively toward their pets.

(It may be worth noting he also calls Teeth the Henchmaniacs' pet. Maybe this is a consistent element to how Bill relates to sentient people.)

There's evidence in TBOB that he felt similarly about his first human henchman, the shaman—at minimum, he's very bitter when the shaman turns on him and he says he's gonna find a "new best friend."

Summary: There's evidence that Bill develops facets of positive attachments to the people around him; but we don't have any evidence that any of these attachments ever added up to a positive & healthy relationship. In all the relationships we see in depth, the toxic aspects outweighed the positive ones.

Summary of the summary: Bill has the capacity for healthy relationships but is too big a douchebag to utilize it.

[witchconnectingdotes]

PICK A CARD : What is a quality of yours that u perceive as a flaw 🍃

Hello everyone I wanted to do a quick short very very disorganized pick a card today.

What is a quality of yours that u perceive as a flaw.

These are the piles (1,2,3) pls I do my reading in voice notes so there are MANY spelling errors in this. I just feel more comfortable speaking when doing a reading.

This is for entertainment only take what resonates leave what doesn’t ofc I am trying to pick up on collective energies I’m sorry if it doesn’t resonate 😭.

also I haven’t done PAC for a while I’m pretty rusty 😔

Pile 1 🌊

Hello pile number one welcome to your reading so for you guys it’s obviously kind of a cliché thing, but you guys might be very very generous with your empathy with your love for people I feel like you guys don’t hold back when you care for someone you are not at all stingy with the affection you give to people and I would also go to say that you put your whole soul you pour your love into people and you provide them consistency you provide them help you provide themsupport I feel like you guys are very supportive of this person and the way you might see it as a floss sometimes is that maybe you guys have had people take advantage of you before? Like you feel like being a lover boy or a lover girl is kind of a sacrifice in the society or something like that you feel like kind of led to the slaughter but because you can’t help but to give love and empathy to people and you think that you should work more on your boundaries well, it is true. I’d say that there is a part of this to be healed with the seven of ones here I feel like you should stand up more for what you like and maybe you are in this pet already, making more firm boundaries but here I feel like you should not see the love your capacity for love and the amount of love that you have in you you should not see it as something to have to with or limit because I feel like if you just let it out with the right person you will have something that is so beautiful.

Pile 2 🌱

OK, so pile two is very very different from pile 1. I would say that on the contrary, this person well you guys have more of a cut off kind of behavior when it comes to people who have wronged you, and this can be taken to the extreme in your opinion, I feel like some people might’ve told you that you guys are very rigid or kind of cruel or that you guys really hurt them or you’re very detached but what I want you to focus on here is that you you are just very intuitive. You know when something doesn’t serve you anymore. You know when someone is being deceitful with you. I feel like you guys are kind of sometimes you might think how bad people think and it has helped you in a lot of situations where you knew when to get out I feel like you might perceive yourself as a little bit cold or heartless, but I want you guys to know that it is not, true you guys are equipped with a very precious skill, and that is to take action to know when to send back to know when to let’s go to know when to take the decisions that you know might be hurtful for you and for the other person, but it must be done because it is better I feel as though you are not afraid of being alone. This is a pile of people who are not scared of walking alone, and they might see it as a flaw in the sense that it might make you a loner or you feel that you can’t make connections with people because people can be very bad but it’s actually agift to know how to protect yourself

Pile 3🦋

For the third pile, I would say that a quality of yours that you see as a flaw is your desire or kind of seemingly always being on the move like I feel like you might not feel like you belong to any place in particular you feel like you are a multi ul being in some sort or like someone who belongs to multiple places someone who can stick to one place and the issue here that you might see as a floor is you don’t see yourself as very grounded, but I wouldn’t see it that way in my opinion it comes more as someone who is a word being, I would see it as someone who can adapt anywhere I would see it as someone who can travel anywhere and basically survive anywhere because they are a quite cooperative person and a person that integrates different cultures quite easily. It’s someone who is not very rigid it’s someone that is not very tight to one place and it’s not at all something that is, bad or something that shows lack of sadness I would see it more as a sense of being grand or big. I don’t know how to express it, but in a way it’s as if you are a child of the word. this reading is a little shorter because it’s very difficult for me to express I would say that it’s more so an openness. You are very open to the different possibilities and while some people might see it as someone who doesn’t stick to one plan someone who’s not organized or someone who doesn’t stick to it I would say that it’s someone who can see different possibilities and who can move from part to part who can, walk away from a place and from a person and jump to another but not in a way like not in a serial dating way or in a bad way more so as an open and adventurous way, I feel like there is a wisdom in your adventurous because it helps you learn from different places

[12thhouse-sun]

Axioms of heavenly bodies; an intimate analysis of systems unknown and the pleasures contained therein

Gale x f!Tav

6.8k words

Explicit

Ao3 link

Tags: named Tav, modern era au, pwp, mostly smut, mystra mentions, blowjobs, cunilingus, penis in vagina sex, science puns

banner from @firefly-graphics

Gale can’t believe she’s here in his kitchen.

He lives in a perfectly serviceable post-divorce apartment with a small and if he’s honest too small kitchen. But it’s his and she is here, sitting on prime countertop space but her dress shows off her legs and she’s drinking his wine and thus Poppy is probably the finest addition to his kitchen possible. Occasionally he’ll feel a brush against the back of his leg and he’ll turn and find her bare foot swinging away, her eyes observing his every movement over her glass of wine with a teasing look in her eye.

The talk never stops as he works, and whenever he has a few minutes to let something sit on the stove he steps in between her legs with his hands on her knees, his thumbs rubbing her soft skin as he hangs on her every word.

A few kisses are shared and all are lingering, them only having shared their first kiss but a few days ago. As such, every brush of their lips against one another feels loaded with anticipation. They also are incredibly distracting, Gale almost burning the meat on the stove when he became too enraptured with how she moaned into his mouth and he wanted to figure out how to make her make that sound again.

When he decided to “get back out there” he had intended on taking things slow with whomever he met. But his attraction to Poppy is well and truly beyond anything he could have anticipated and her obviously reciprocated attraction only amplifies his own even more. The wine helps but only to a point, Gale having to pass up a refill so he can actually finish their dinner instead of turning all the burners off and carrying her to his bedroom. Poppy does nothing to deter this, or rather she does everything to tempt him. After slicing up some cherry tomatoes he picks up a half and offers it to her, bringing it up to her mouth. Her lips sensually wrap around the juicy fruit without breaking eye contact and Gale is half-mast in no time at all.

She makes him nervous, of all things. Her mere presence is enough to soothe him and simultaneously drive him wild. His need to impress is ever-present, still not quite sure how he attracted such a vibrant woman and he is trying his best to keep her. She has this grounded nature that Mystra, who kept him at arm’s length for the entirety of their courtship and marriage, never had. Poppy may love to tease him but she doesn’t toy with him like that, she gives freely; all touches, all words, everything. Even just a look from her is enough for Gale to know that she wants to be here with him, in any capacity. He’s forgotten what it feels like to be desired, to not have to constantly chase in the hopes of receiving crumbs in return.

Even just a few nights ago at the end of their previous date, Gale found himself snogging her against her car, all hot breath and frantic hands, in public. Mystra would have never, even when their relationship was finally out in the open, even when they were long-married. He’s barely known Poppy a month and she’s shown him more affection than Mystra had in their 15 year-long relationship. He told her as much, feeling awfully raw and vulnerable after being so thoroughly kissed by her and she replied with a resolute, “Then clearly you need to make up for lost time,” before kissing him once more.

“Can you bring our wine to the table, my heart? Dinner will be ready in a moment.”

“Your heart?” she asks wryly, jumping off the counter nimbly. “Who, me?”

“Yes, you,” he emphasizes. “I’m sorry to say you have replaced that all-important organ, I hope you understand. Terribly sorry.”

“I can think of much worse fates,” she murmurs, bridging the distance between them with half a step and kissing him on the cheek. Gale can’t help but stare at her and warm at her closeness, at how her pupils are dilated slightly and how her mouth is pink and swollen from the wine and the kisses. Grasping her by the waist, he pulls her in for a quick kiss, earning him a most delightful giggle, before letting her continue on her way.

Despite how quiet her feet are on his hardwood floors, he hears her stop and effuse a quiet, “Oh hey there, pretty lady.”

Gale looks behind him and sees that Poppy has crouched on the floor and is looking at Tara who has decided to emerge from one of her hiding spots. His mottled Maine Coon and oldest friend rubs her cheek up against the corner of the wall and stares at Poppy, taking her in from a safe distance.

“Ah, apologies if she doesn’t seem interested, she’s quite particular and doesn’t get overly familiar with new people.”

“That’s fine,” Poppy replies, keeping her voice soft and low. “I’m willing to put in the work. Whatever pace she wants, I’ll follow.”

No food in danger of burning any longer, Gale begins to plate while stealing distracted glances over at Poppy, who has reached out a hand for Tara to smell. Tara, old stubborn girl that she is, takes her time making her way closer and at first seems to be wholly uninterested in Poppy, giving their guest her best cold shoulder. But it’s when Gale looks away that he catches the slightest gasp that has him whip his head around to find Tara primly sniffing Poppy’s outstretched hand, Poppy not giving any excitement away except in her eyes, not wanting to startle Tara. 

But it’s the next thing that’s even more surprising—instead of sniffing Poppy and walking away, Tara instead tucks her head and pushes her cheek into Poppy’s hand, asking for pets. Poppy’s mouth is agape in awe and triumph, and dutifully begins scratching at the spot behind her ear that Tara has requested.

Gale is dumbfounded, not having seen Tara treat a guest like that in…well quite some time. He wracks his brain to remember all the times this has not happened and it occurs to him that any houseguest she has met has been a friend of Mystra’s, Tara never taking kindly to his ex either now that he thinks about it. It’s as he’s wrapped in his own thoughts that he doesn’t register that Poppy now fully sits on the floor and Tara crawls into her lap, batting her paw at Poppy’s other hand, asking for even more attention. Just like with him, Poppy gives her affections freely, scratching Tara behind both ears and singing her name over and over again with a different intonation each time, as if she’s tasting a new food and trying to get a sense of it. 

He can’t help it. Without thinking about it, Gale pulls out his phone and swipes over to the camera app, aiming it across the tiny kitchen to where Poppy sits with Tara in her lap, smugly accepting pets from her new thrall. Poppy hasn’t stopped singing Tara’s name, adding in some hums here and there clearly trying to fit something together and it’s after a few more mumbled words that something coherent quavers throughout the small apartment.

“Oh hey there Tara

What’s it like to be a kitty?

I’ve heard so much about you and 

Tonight you look so pretty, yes you do…”

She’s singing. About his cat. To his cat to the tune of…is that? “Is that the Plain White T’s?” he asks incredulously. “Did you change the lyrics of ‘Hey There Delilah’ to be about my cat?”

Poppy tears her attention away from Tara at his words without stopping her hand’s attentions upon her. “And so what if I have?” she asks with a grin.

Gale can’t stop the look of complete and utter adoration that possesses his face. He doesn’t remember ever feeling this happy. He imagines a similar image of Tara draped over Poppy’s lap like she is now but Poppy is dressed down, comfortably, and sitting on his couch next to him—no, laying against him while he reads. A lazy Sunday, just the three of them, something Gale now wants so very desperately. More than he’s wanted anything else in quite some time. 

The moment ends, however, Tara’s head shooting around to something only she can hear and she bolts away into the living room for some feline-related shenanigans. Poppy stands, stretching her back and making it pop before turning back to him. She’s smiling wide, in that irresistible dress, and covered in cat hair. Gale just might be falling in love.

“There’s a lint roller by the entryway if you need it,” he suggests, portioning out their dinner onto plates.

Poppy glances down at herself and the copious amount of cat fur that covers her front. “As rewarding as that was, I will take you up on that.” 

Dinner is served and anticipation thrums under his skin. Their conversation never stops, a boon to Gale as he has no idea what he would do if there were any silence between them. He still itches to apparate her to his bedroom and she continues to not help by tangling her feet with his own under the table. Does she like feet? He would give it a try, for her. 

Even dessert passes through smoothly, Gale’s galaktoboureko he slaved over yesterday going over well with the woman next to him. Poppy hums and moans over her first bite and Gale feels his pants tighten even more at the decadent sound.

Poppy almost gets one over on him and tries bringing dishes to the kitchen to clean them but he deftly brushes her off, stealing the plates right out of her hands and quickly loading the dishwasher. Only one more thing is on his mind tonight and he intends to follow through.

When he leaves the kitchen, he finds Poppy looking over his bookshelves by the hallway, taking in his collection. He comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, planting soft kisses on her shoulder and slowly traveling up her neck. She melts into him, one of her hands coming up to weave into his hair, encouraging his attentions. 

Hungry, so very hungry for her, he spins her around and captures her lips in a fierce kiss, pulling her into him by her hips. They’re alone. Beautifully, gloriously, alone, and now he can do with her as he likes.

They stumble down the hallway, Poppy’s hands tugging at his clothes as they go. So lost in her, Gale doesn’t notice how effective she is until he feels a cold wall press against his bare back, his sweater and shirt discarded somewhere back down the hall. Her hands make quick work of his belt and quickly enough his now fully-hard length is in her warm hands. Poppy’s lips move from his lips to his jaw, to his neck, down his chest and stomach, until he opens his eyes in a haze to see her kneeling before him, pumping his cock in front of her face.

Suddenly overcome—this is now how this was supposed to go, she doesn’t need to do this—Gale cups her face and pulls her back so she looks at him. 

“Darling, he gasps, “You don’t need to do that. Let’s move onto the bedroom.”

She kneels there, eyes black as night and glazed over with unmistakable desire that contradicts everything Gale has ever known about this sort of encounter and her brow furrows just a bit as if something just occurs to her. “She never did this for you, did she?”

He has told Poppy only a little about Mystra. They had been seeing each other for such a short time thus far, and he didn’t want to inundate her with the details of that whole sordid affair. But clearly it was enough for her to be able to hit the nail right on the head of this particular situation. Mystra never did this for him, vocally revolted it in fact. And so seeing Poppy nuzzle against his arousal with obvious want short-circuits something in his brain.

“Never,” he utters, trying to make sense of this woman below him. 

Poppy leans back and reaches a hand up, taking one of his own in hers. This one act is so unbelievably grounding, Gale doesn’t realize he had felt unmoored until the feeling dissipates just by her touch.

He shakily removes his other hand from her hair and cups her cheek, rubbing his thumb against her cheekbone.

Poppy stands, pressing herself fully against him and still gripping his hand. “Well professor, if you’re so concerned about my enjoyment I have a proposition for you. An experiment, in fact.”

His mind buzzes with her using those words in this context and his curiosity is piqued.

Gale merely nods, signaling for her to continue.

Poppy takes the hand she holds and guides it under her dress, pulling aside her panties so that his fingers directly touch her arousal. They both moan, Poppy at the relief and Gale in shock at how wet she already is.

“You haven’t touched me yet, but this is all you,” she says breathlessly. “Aren’t you curious to see how much wetter I’ll be after I go down on you?”

“You’re this wet already?” he asks, awed. He slides his fingers through her slick and pushes a single finger into her, enjoying how her mouth hangs open in pleasure, reveling in how hot and wet and soft she is.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all evening, all day.” Poppy steps closer so that she speaks directly into his ear, “I think about you when I’m home in bed, imagining all the things you’ll do to me, imagining you fucking me, imagining sucking your cock until you come in my mouth.” She moans out the last few words and Gale feels her gush over his hand at just the mention of going down on him.

If he was unmoored before he’s lost to the wind now, but with Poppy at the helm, pulling him hard and fast down into heady arousal that completely and utterly overtakes his mind and all his senses. Cupping her sex, he thrusts his finger into her and grinds his palm against her clit, making Poppy cry out and sling her arms around his shoulders, hips rolling into his hand, begging for more.

She is intoxicating, Gale notes every move she makes, every sound. He has never experienced anything more glorious, more beautiful. He feels dumb, of all things, brain sluggish with how all his blood is rushing elsewhere. He feels her slip and so he wraps his other arm around her, keeping her from falling. Every breath of hers comes out as a gasping pant, so different from how she normally composes herself. He’s always liked the idea of being worshiped, of being adored. If she’s this worked up by just kisses and his hand, what will she be like when he has more of her? What will she be like if he listens to how much she wants to please him, and lets her?

“You really want to taste me? To get me off with your mouth?” Gale shudders as he keeps working her with his fingers.

Her “yes” comes breathlessly, ending on a whine, her tongue flashing out to lick her lips and Gale is entranced by the action. 

“Well I can’t have you kneeling on the hardwood floor, let’s get you undressed and in my bed, shall we?”

Gale removes his hand from her and as he guides her down the hall by the small of her back. He licks his fingers clean, groaning at her taste. He can’t wait to taste all of her.

Once in his bedroom, he closes the door for no Tara interruptions, and is upon her once more, kissing her and guiding her backwards to his bed. Her hands are busy, tugging on his pants and underwear until Gale stops to step out of them, now fully bare. But unlike him, she’s still fully dressed, this damnable woman.

He pushes her onto the bed, hands roving down her back to try and find the zipper while he kisses and licks at her neck. Poppy’s hands are everywhere, touching every inch of skin she can find. “God, you’re gorgeous,” she coos. 

“I’m just Gale,” he murmurs into the crook of her neck, “but I appreciate the affectation nevertheless.” His joke has her scoffing into the dark bedroom and it’s at that moment that Gale’s fingers finally grasp the tiny zipper pull and finally pull this dress away from her body. 

He backs away for a moment to switch on his bedside light as the dress pools on the floor between them. Looking back the dim yellow light casts a warm glow over her, alighting her body to him. She sits there, draped across his bed, looking utterly divine. 

Poppy still wears her bra and underwear but when he kneels on the bed to cage himself over her, she instead meets him and pulls him down so that he’s propped up against the pillows. Her mouth returns to his, kissing him eagerly, hands dancing over his chest. Gale has no time to feel self-conscious as she kisses and nips her way down his chest and stomach, he’s not sure he even has the brainpower. Her dark pink hair pours over his skin like water and he pulls it back with a hand so he can see her face.  

Finally reaching her quarry, Gale once again finds her face nuzzling against his impossibly hard member, and he moans at just a brush of her cheek against his sensitive skin. She finally raises her eyes to his and he can see her asking a silent question, if he still wants this. He nods, nervous but also so terribly excited.

She starts by mouthing at his cock, leaving open-mouthed kisses up and down his length. Gale can’t help but tremble under her touch and his hand in her hair flexes as he tries his best to not thrust into her face, especially when she hasn’t even put him in her mouth yet.

This is made difficult when her tongue finally makes an appearance, swirling circles into his skin while her mouth sucks along his sides. The whine he squeaks out would be embarrassing if it weren’t for how Poppy’s eyes flashed at him in triumph and lust in response to the noise. She continues her work, one hand grasping him at the root and pumping gently while she drools all over his cock.

Just when he feels like he can’t take it any longer, she swirls her tongue around his soft and sensitive head, closes her eyes, and begins to take him in her mouth. His eyes close involuntarily and the groan he unleashes ripples throughout his whole body along with the pleasure. Poppy is done teasing him now and gets to work, working more of his length into her mouth in consistent strokes while her hand gripping him pleasures what she cannot reach. Her head bobs up and down beneath his hand and while his other hand grips the duvet. If he had enough blood left in his brain, he’d be worried about how he’s coming first, about how she hasn’t been taken care of yet, that he should stop her before she finishes him. But he’s unable to think through all of that when her mouth feels incredible and her tongue is doing whatever maddening thing it’s doing whenever she slides down his length each time. 

So lost in it all, he doesn’t realize until it’s already happening that the head of his cock is hitting something and when he opens his eyes he sees that Poppy’s hand has been removed and her nose is almost pressed into his abdomen. Her eyes water and make her makeup run and drool pools over his balls and he has never seen anything more beautiful. He’d be concerned for her comfort if it weren’t for how she’s humming in pleasure around him, how her hands now grip his hips as if he were to float away, her thumbs rhythmically rubbing circles into his skin in time with her bobs.

It’s so overwhelming, all of it, and his end is fast approaching out of nowhere. 

“Poppy, I’m going to come,” he gasps. He doesn’t recognize his voice, how desperate and raw he sounds. His words embolden her and she works faster, backing off his length enough so that she’s no longer choking on him and giving room for one of her hands to return to its spot on his cock. She’s so good at this, taking him like this. Even any of the attempts at this pre-Mystra pale in comparison to how she’s pleasuring him now. Poppy keeps pace, pushing him farther, farther, until he cries out raw and vulnerable, shooting ropes and ropes of spend into her mouth.

It feels an age before his mind clears, the orgasm having rippled through him like a lightning bolt. Opening his eyes, he finds Poppy peering at him, looking quite pleased with herself. He opens his mouth to say something but stops short when she opens her mouth and he sees all of his seed pooled in her mouth and about to pour out before she shuts her mouth and visibly swallows, licking her lips afterwards.

Of one mind, he releases her hair and grabs her by the shoulders, hauling her up until she’s face to face with him. He kisses her like she’s the air he breathes, he kisses her so thoroughly that he tastes more of himself than he does her. Encompassing her with his arms, he turns them over so that their positions are switched, Poppy’s shoulders and head now propped up by the pillows.

She is still more clothed than him, a tragedy that must be resolved with due haste. Gale reaches behind her while he continues to explore her mouth, grasping at the hooks to her bra until it comes undone. Backing off to remove the garment, his eyes are arrested by two glittering bars piercing her nipples. 

A growl he didn’t know he could produce rumbles through him and he descends upon her, lavishing her breasts with his mouth and hands, his plan to continue undressing her temporarily forgotten. If her noises earlier when she was wrapped in his arms in the hallway, the mewls and keens she utters as he obsesses over her breasts are on another level. Both of her hands tangle their fingers in his hair and he feels how her hips roll into his stomach, aching for friction. 

Removing himself from one of her breasts with a pop, he looks up to her and sees her debauched, eyes heavy-lidded and lower lip quivering with every panting breath. Satisfied, he returns to his original plan and kisses down her front until he reaches her lace underthings, deftly removing the final barrier between them.

Fully bare to each other now, Gale pushes her legs back, exposing herself entirely to him, and dives in, all restraint gone. She is the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, every drop ambrosia. Oh, how he wanted to take his time, oh how he wanted to tease her and build her up slowly. But fresh off of his own wild orgasm and tasting how wet she is for him after all that, he has become a man obsessed. 

She was right, she is impossibly wetter after pleasuring him, without a single touch from himself or one of her hands. Gale laps up every drop and begs for more, sliding his tongue up and down her folds, teasing her entrance for more. One of his hands comes up and presses atop her mound, pulling it back to expose her clit for him. Moving his lips up to kiss and suck on her clit has Poppy bucking against his face, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging hard. 

He hungers for her, all of her. Gale wants no, needs nothing but for her to fall apart on his tongue, to hear her scream his name. And with how she’s gasping his name as he ravishes her, he is very likely to get his wish. Gale Dekarios is very good at achieving whatever he sets his mind to, after all.

He desperately wishes he could spend all night between her legs, the weight of her thighs on his shoulders something that he finds simultaneously comforting and deeply riling. He just came a few minutes ago but his desire hasn’t abated in the slightest, if anything it has only increased, magnified, in the wake of all of her before him, under him, tasted by him. 

Poppy on the other hand hasn’t stopped trembling since he unveiled her breasts, every action enough to make her whimper and gasp. He’s heard her sing and she has one of the most beautiful singing voices he’s ever heard, but these noises are on another level and he has a deep-seated need to learn every way he can produce each of those sounds by pleasuring her.

Between how wet she is and his added fluids, there’s a puddle forming under where he works but he doesn’t give a damn. The sheets can be washed whenever, Poppy must be attended to now.

Despite the pace at which he started, Gale does not slow down. He ruthlessly devours her like she’s his last meal, like he just spent years in the desert without a drop of water, and she pays him back with her sweet, sweet, sounds.

“Gale,” she quavers. “I’m so close, I’m so close, fucking hell you’re so fucking good at this—”

The praise pours over him like hot water, rippling through him and straight to his core, his cock twitching in acknowledgement of all that is happening. He listens to her and doesn’t stop, his thumb on her clit and his tongue all over the rest of her, willing her to come.

It surprises him, her hips thrust forward once harder than they have been and then she’s shaking, crying out his name and working through her orgasm on his tongue just as he wished. Gale keeps working her until her hands are no longer tugging but pushing his head, and he reluctantly extricates himself from her legs, his face completely drenched in her.

Poppy has turned to a literal puddle before him, a sheen of sweat over her skin and her limbs laying almost lifelessly upon his bed. Her breaths come in shudders as she regains herself, coming out of the haze of ecstasy. He takes her in from where he kneels before her, spotting tattoos normally covered by clothing he has yet to admire and he realizes that he has yet to take in all of her like he originally intended to for this evening.

He doesn’t realize that he was lost in thought over this, over her, until movement catches his eye: her hand raising up to beckon him closer. Poppy’s eyes are now open and they are full of awe and something Gale cannot place. Gale comes as he’s called, kneeling over her and kissing her collarbone and neck, feeling her overstimulation shakes from his attentions. 

“You’ve been keeping that trick up your sleeve this whole time?” Poppy jests, her voice hoarse.

“Now, to reduce that to a trick I find belittling of the art of cunnilingus and as for sleeves,” he raises one arm, “none here to be seen.” This earns him a trill of giggles from the beauty beneath him. He can’t help it, he leans down to kiss her and she hums into his mouth, cupping his face with her hands. He’s certainly getting her arousal all over her face but that does not stop her from kissing him deeply, lingering every time they pull away slightly.

Loath to break the kiss, but with a new goal at the forefront of his mind, Gale sits up and drags his hands down the front of her chest. “Pardon me, I must now take my time with you after being so effectively swept up by your wiles,” he drawls. This earns him yet another giggle and he sets his focus to the rest of her, leaning down to kiss her sternum.

Gale lingers over every inch of her, attempting to dedicate all of her to memory. Poppy is perfection, whether beneath his gaze, under his fingers, or teased by his mouth, to the point of obsession. She is impossible yet so very real and grounded and here with him. He takes mental notes of every freckle, every scar, every line of every tattoo; where she is ticklish, where she tenses under his touch, where she hums and blooms under him. She is delightfully responsive, a novelty to him. Mystra had seemed to be, at first, but as the years went on her enthusiasm had waned, making him want to try harder. But this? How a brush of his beard against her breasts makes her shiver? Unheard of. He needs more of it, of her.

“Why do I feel as though I’m under one of your microscopes?”

His trance is broken then, and he looks up at her from her abdomen where he is inspecting a particularly rougher looking scar there, likely from the removal of her appendix. Her gray eyes are alight with amusement and now he feels as though the tables are turned and he is under her microscope and not the other way around.

“Forgive me, I am merely familiarizing myself with my most remarkable discovery to date. Surely you’ll understand I must commit a not insignificant amount of time into admiring you, enjoying you. Taking note of every lovely bit of you–my yield thus far is 100% by the way,” he ends with a wink.

She scoffs at his bad joke but she’s still smiling that ever-brilliant smile. “With your already busy schedule? How ever will you find the time?”

“I would quit my job and spend the entirety of my days obsessing over you,” he declares easily.

She laughs, “You like the stars too much, you couldn’t give them up for long.”

“On the contrary, as I would have this heavenly body to become my muse,” he breathes, roving his hands over her sides.

“I can’t wait to find your papers about me on Google Scholar.”

“Oh, not just papers. Poems, essays, hell I would write novels upon novels for and about you,” he says, kissing down her chest.

“Mmmm—all I’m seeing is a lot of talk and not a lot of writing.”

Gale leans forward, pressing his chest into hers and his now-hard cock against her folds. The resultant gasp that escapes her mouth could only possibly be described in song or even dance. He would learn, of course. Would learn and do anything for her. “Oh really? You’d like me to grab pen and paper this very instant to get started? There’s no other action you’d like me to take?” he says, rolling his hips into hers.

Poppy rolls her hips back into his and he can’t hold back the groan that slips past his lips. Her eyes flash teasingly at him, beginning to glaze over with lust once more. “I never said that…but clearly you’re interested in some more immediate research. To further explore these systems unknown.”

“Experiments must be duplicated thrice to ensure accuracy of course. We’ve completed our first one, but we have two more to go. Is my lovely assistant and object of my study ready for such an endeavor?” 

“R-ready whenever you are,” she shudders.

“Then let’s begin, shall we?”

His fingers slide easily through her slick folds, down towards her slit. He dances around her opening, watching her face to take in all of her gorgeous expressions. Her mouth falls open with a soundless “o”, her hips trembling beneath his touch. After ensuring his finger is suitably lubricated, he slides it inside her slowly, taking in every inch of her. Crooking his finger up, he finds that soft spongy spot and begins petting it with the pad of his finger, taking his time, teasing her with what’s to come. Gale had intended on continuing this motion but deepening it, only to find that in his hand’s current position, his palm almost fully cups her mound and presses against her and at just a brush of the flat of his hand against her lips Poppy’s hips are grinding against him, chasing her pleasure. He presses back, not one to miss out on a new discovery 

Her breasts bounce with her efforts and Gale takes his free hand to capture one of them, kneading the soft flesh and flicking her pierced nipple, making her keen at his touch. He files away the observation that her breasts are incredibly sensitive for experimentation at a later date.

Pressing his free hand flat on top of her mound, his thumb sliding down just past her lips to graze her clit. Simultaneously, he slides two fingers of his other hand inside her and begins a relentless rhythm. When his fingers thrust out his palm presses against her lips and the back and forth drives her crazy, making Poppy babble beneath him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me Gale—oh my gods—you’re so hot whatthefuck.” He preens under her words but doesn’t let that deter him, his eyes locked on her half-lidded ones intent on feeling her come on his hands.

One of her hands grips his bedsheets and the other is locked on his thigh, unmoving while the rest of her writhes beneath his hands. Pumping in and out, pushing her farther and farther, he coos to her, “Look at you. You’ve come once already and you’re so eager for another. Are you going to come for me again? I know you’ve got it in you, love.” Her eyes grow wide and before she can answer him her walls clench around him erratically and she swears, coming and gushing all over his hand.

Gale feels as though his body is glowing under the pride of making her come a second time, just as delicious as the first time. He cleans his hands once more with his mouth, not tiring of her sweet, sweet taste. 

Poppy recovers faster than the first orgasm, pulling him on top of her and reaching for his cock between them.

“Slow down, beautiful, slow down,” he soothes, kissing up and down her neck. “We have all the time in the world.”

“I think I’m addicted to you,” she breathes. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“I’ll be sure to include that in the abstract.”

She swats him on the shoulder, without any heat to it, and just giggles once more.

“I think I know the answer, but I would be remiss to not ask it, do you want this?”

“Of course I do—”

“With a condom?”

“I have my implant now please come inside me.”

“As you wish,” he hums, his body thrilling at her words.

Sitting up, he grasps his cock, pumping a few times and groaning at how sensitive he is, how he’s come once already tonight and he’s ready to burst again. In front of him lies this glorious, wanting woman and he cannot deny her. One of her hands shoots out towards him and he takes it, holding it while his other hand guides his cock into her. Her legs spread wider as he pushes and even with just his head in the sensations are overwhelming. She is so unbelievably tight and hot and wet and—gods he can’t help the whimper that falls from his lips.

“Apologies,” he murmurs, “I don’t think I’ll be able to last very long.” He’s ready for the rejection, the snappy retort to not bother, that he should take care of himself.

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” she winks, breathless, perfect, so perfect. He has never felt more seen, more appreciated, more adored, more desired than with her. He has never felt more whole than when he’s with her. He knew Mystra appreciated his intelligence but even that often felt inadequate, but he never finds himself lacking when with Poppy. He instinctually reaches for that feeling but does not find those supposed gaps and instead finds himself, not quite as she sees him but enough. And when compared to the absence of, even a little feels like a bounty.

I love you. It appears, fully formed in his mind and his body warms in waves at the thought.

I love you, I love you, I love you. It’s too soon, it’s far too soon but oh how he’s so far gone for her. He’d do anything for her. Without question, without hesitation. He realizes that he’s stopped moving and, shaking his head, flexes his hand in hers.

Trying to focus on his breathing, he keeps pushing until he bottoms out, his hips flush against her. If just his tip inside of her was overwhelming this is somehow even more so, Gale’s mind swimming with the effort to not come right this very moment. He feels as though he’s in the ocean, choppy and windy, like he could be ripped away at any moment by a stray current. But he breathes, he holds, and once his mind settles enough, he pulls out slowly, all the way, until just his tip is inside her where he thrusts back in, a little harder this time. Gale feels how her hips reach up to meet him and he stares at her in awe, in awe of her desire for him so apparent and raw. He wants her too. So very much. And that’s where his resolve begins to break, his hand that had been on his cock planting on the bed next to her head while the other still grasps hers and he pumps into her faster and faster as words of adoration pour out of his mouth.

“God, you’re incredible.” 

I love you. 

“Perfect, you’re perfect.” 

I love you. 

“Stay with me, stay with me now.”

I love you.

The obscene sounds of their coupling fill the room, the bed rocking and squeaking under their efforts. Poppy meets every thrust, wrapping an arm around his neck to give her leverage. She babbles as well but her own words are less coherent, mostly swears and different intonations of his own name. “Fuck, Gale you fuck me so good—ohmygod, shit, just like that gorgeo—ah!.”

He seems to have caught an angle that she loves and so he adjusts. Gale knows he’s got it right when all her words fail her, now all her noises consist of gasps and pants and he continues to fuck her.

He thought he’d last longer having come once already but he’s been thinking about this all day, and even longer before that if he’s honest with himself, and his newfound feelings only make his desire even more heady, even more amplified. To the point where he’s now losing control, he can’t hold back any longer.

“Poppy, I’m so close. I’m so close,” he whines, peppering her face with kisses. 

She snakes a hand between them to touch herself and the other cups his cheek, her eyes boring into his. “Come for me,” she begs. “Come for me, fill me, I want to feel you come.”

His jaw slackens, mouth agape at her words. Gale’s thrusts become erratic as his resolve snaps completely and he’s coming, thrusting through it all in hopes that she comes one more time. 

Just as he finishes, Poppy falls apart, her walls fluttering around his length now beginning to feel oversensitive and her hips slapping against his own.

Gale collapses, aiming for the side of her so as to not crush her, his softening prick slipping out of her. His skin tingles all over with goosebumps as the sweat on his skin begins to cool. 

Their heavy breaths fill the room, both taking their time to come back to this moment and not wanting to break it. Tiredness begins to creep across his mind when her voice cuts through it with words he doesn’t expect: “I love you, too.”

His eyes snap open and meet hers, full of what he now sees is love but his face heats at the realization. 

“Oh, don’t tell me I was saying that out loud. Please don’t feel pressured to say it back, I—”

“I do mean it, I love you. You’re quite easy to love, in fact.” She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in, Gale notching his mouth over hers for a short but sweet kiss. 

“Now, let me go clean up and when I can get back we can discuss your findings. I hope you took notes.”

It’s now Gale’s turn to laugh, more comfortable and loved than he’s felt in ages, pulling her in for another kiss before she goes.

@dr-demi-bee @lanafofana @spooky-lil-bee @feedthepheasants @waterdeep-weavemoss @crimson-and-lavender

[inphront]

thinking tonight about griddlehark as doomed by not seeing power and control as linked/trying to have one without the other.

harrow is desperate for control over every aspect of her situation, breaking down the moment anything happens that she can't predict or change or have agency in, but she's consumed by guilt and horror at the idea of being in power. she takes so much pride in necromancy as an element of her world and life where she is capable and a genius and in control, and it's a massive source of internal contention because one of the biggest gears turning her character is the cost of that control, and the fact that necromancy is inherently caught up in power dynamics. ianthe notices this about her in the epiparados: she's used to having her hands on the reins, can't cope when they're taken off, and doesn't have the personality to put them back on. harrow wants to run the ninth for the sake of having control over it, but situations like her birth where she has clear power over it make her want to die. she wants control over gideon, but is horrified by the power differential involved within necro/cav relationships. harrowhark deals horribly with uncertainty. she doesn't want power, just certainty, and therefore control. much of her arc involves the recognition that it is impossible to control an equal, which is her fundamentally impossible want: to be gideon's equal without giving her the right to leave, to be necromantically capable without the leveraging of power over her house that this requires, and the ability to align the world with what is just without the social position or the force so often involved in making meaningful change.

meanwhile, gideon has never felt important to anyone. her most fundamental desire is to be important to someone, and this manifests in her military fantasies and rebellion against authority as a desire for power. she wants the status and the catharsis of being at the top of a podium she's spent her life crushed underneath. but she doesn't put much thought into actually using any of this power she wants so badly. gideon doesn't want power for the sake of agency, but for the sake of admiration, which is how she ends up as a figurehead-- someone theoretically in a position of total power, with no control over even her own body. even her self-actualization as a cavalier was, to some extent, an acceptance of a title and a position within the empire under the understanding that she would be used. expressions of power, such as killing crux, don't feel good to her, but the concept of power itself, of having important parents and prestige and a big sword and recognition, do.

and how can they explain this to each other? they're both trying to take opposite halves of a mutually inclusive set. it's no wonder, then, that the tragedies of their relationship are desperate attempts to give each other things they don't want: gideon's death makes harrow far more powerful under terms harrow can't control. harrow then attemps to control those terms, and by extension to give gideon back her life and her agency, which gideon interprets as revoking the power she had over harrow's emotions and memory (as well as her imperial title, which may not indicate much power but sure does mean more than "indentured servant to the ninth"). for much of gtn, harrow had both power and control, while gideon had neither, and i expect this to switch when they interact in atn because it is impossible to only have one. in this way, their relationship raises a lot of questions about power structures as a whole: what do you do when changing the world requires you to leverage power against other people? what do you do when positive recognition inherently comes with a responsibility to be cruel? when relinquishing your capacity to hurt people limits your capacity to help, and when getting out from under the boot means putting it on? how do interactions with power and control interpersonally reflect systemic influence?

idk mostly i just shake them

[lxmelle]

Gojo was once described by Gege as a “man of resignation”.

It is a facet of enlightenment - in which the concept of “non-attachment” is a big part of (attachment is viewed as the root of suffering).

We can interpret “resignation” in so many ways, as it explains so much about his immense capacity for love / acceptance, but also his tendency to... simply resign himself to an outcome / fate I guess - a form of passivity that can be either considered positive or negative, perhaps depending on outcome.

Going with the flow, neither chasing nor halting anything in particular with his immense might and potential. He swayed things to gently influence an outcome. Followed a designated path trying to rebuild the sorcerer world through being a teacher... which he couldn’t fully commit too either, because he had a role as a special grade who had to keep working.

That’s not to say he didn’t achieve anything - because of course he did. But nothing revolutionary. He said so himself to Geto: he didn’t see a point in it. There were just some things he didn’t think would change - someone else would replace the higher-ups.

And thus. Despite his massive strength, he never did ever manage to go all out. Perhaps this is symbolic of an inherently gentle/accepting nature? But there was indeed a monster inside him too - the one that thrived on the thrill of killing and defeating. It was a beast he seldom let out. It was a beast with a thirst.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll paraphrase: like a sprinter limited to go at 8kmph, like a singer who is only allowed to whisper her song, a painter unable to use any paints for their desired masterpiece - how dreadfully, painfully unfulfilling.

So of course it was FUN to have this final brawl with Sukuna - to give it his very best, especially when he also didn’t feel lonely anymore with a bunch of monsters he can pass the gauntlet (his body and his will) onto in the worst case scenario.

But of course Gojo doesn’t have the ability to predict the future, so how can anyone expect that he make decisions and judgements perfectly or accurately? All he can do is consider based on his own judgement. Alone. As the only other person who help him plug those holes in his judgement, Geto, had left him.

It is up to interpretation whether Geto was left behind first, but this really isn’t a competition or about assigning blame… because where do we even start?

One cannot hold Gojo totally accountable for things that happen around him or how others interpret his actions. He was born different to everyone else. Probably treated as if he had this role to fill where people had an idea of what they wanted or needed him to be, but never gave much thought over what it would feel like for him.

Gojo, Shoko, and those left behind have had to suffer the same resignation. After all: What else are you supposed to do but resign yourself, in the face of a reality where even to things you don’t wish to happen, have to happen? All you can do is what you can... and if you can, you wield it with all your might.

Geto tried it to the best of his ability.

He wasn’t Gojo, who could do it if he wanted to.

Understanding that Gojo wasn’t, and accepting that he (Geto) shouldn’t change that about him (Gojo), as he was likely more suited to be at the school - essentially following nanami’s words and “leaving it to him” as Gojo was in his element / thrived on it, but Geto couldn’t be complicit in the system that would lead them to watch their own kind die one by one — Geto left to follow his ideals.

Gojo was referred to as the only one who can take that curse into his own hands. I used to see it as “the only one to kill Geto” after he failed and almost lost his humanity for the sake of power (killing Yuta would go against his principles) but now it also has a new meaning: the only one who can take charge and pursue the ideals to actually change the world.

The curse is the sh*t that is in the world of sorcery in jjk. Gojo seemed to (imho) now feel the need to catch up and hold the reins this time.

It is the end of Resignation Man Gojo Satoru. The emergence of The Monster Gojo Satoru (who Geto assisted in helping Gojo keep at bay through being the “model of humanity” that Gojo could follow) who was then fully ready to take the stand. Like Geto on that stage.

Bye higher ups.

Before, despite his immense strength, he didn’t force his way through. Perhaps this was the outcome of having been forced to be born and live with no choice but to be the six eyes + limitless. You do not actually have freedom.

Unless, you’re willing to become a pariah. To wield these cards that were dealt to you and completely become the extraordinary.

And now, Yuta embraces the same resigned acceptance of becoming a monster. After all... only a few will be able and willing to turn into a Monster.

Out of love. A Monstrous love indeed.

Geto had monstrous motherhood in him. I guess this extends to others now too. To cast away humanity because nobody else will. Nobody else can. So they have to wield it. Become it.

Yuta represents both the old and new world... in some way, he is like Gojo and Geto combined... power / strength + sincerity / kindness. Of course, like the yin and yang, each half has a bit of the other in it - so Gojo and Geto had a combination of power and compassion, but they symbolically represent each,

Arguably, had Geto someone else by his side, things may have been different.

All of this mess… ugh.

It didn’t have to come to this, right? Nor did it have to be the extermination of humans, but it could’ve been a collaboration of the special grades (Yuki, Gojo, Geto) all trying to solve the 3 different factors to the problem: humans as the origin of curses (research), the old-fashioned higher ups + clans, and the elimination of the curses. There may be others, but you get my gist.

But alas, this is the jjk world.

Just some thoughts, I’ll end it here before it’s more word vom.

[drdemonprince]

Hi Dr. Price,

I’m a huge fan of your work and I’ve found it immensely helpful in figuring out who I am.

In recent years I’ve discovered I am both AuDHD and Bi. My partner is also Bi and very supportive. However we have been together for over a decade and I’m struggling a lot lately with the fact that I’ve never actually been with anyone else. I’ve been spending a lot of time in queer spaces online and finding myself wishing I could at least experience some of what they do.

I love her more than anything and would never do anything to hurt her. She’s not interested in opening things up in any way, which I completely respect and to be fair I’m not even sure that’s truly something I would want either.

I guess I’m just asking if you have any advice on these overwhelming feelings of missing out on aspects of life I never knew I even missed? Other than using porn to get it out of my mind as I’m worried that’s affecting our relationship sexually, which is another issue. Should I find a dating sim game or something to push all of these thoughts on to? It’s kind of messed up but I feel like if I was allowed to flirt online and not actually act on it that might satisfy me? I don’t know.

If nothing else thank you so much for your work and giving me a space to get this off my chest. ❤️

Because I am of the mind that most longings for queer expression/recognition/community cannot and should not be met with media consumption, I'm not going to tell you that there is any kind of game that can simulate queer erotic contact in a way that will be remotely satisfying for you.

You and your partner's desires for your relationship and its boundaries are important and matter, but alongside that, I would also encourage you to listen to that urge that tells you that you'd love to flirt online with a sexy queer stranger as a way to let a little of the steam off.

The wants you are feeling are real, and when disregarded or left unattended they can spiral out in all kinds of unpleasant ways, from just regular garden variety frustration, to resentment, to conducting years long emotional affairs with agoraphobic instagram thot boys you met online (not that I know anything about that).

You want to be recognized by another queer person as a sexually desirable, available person, you want to feel the rush of a developing romance, you want the future to be filled with possibility and excitement, you want to know that your life is not over and that there's still more to learn about yourself and more experiences to enjoy -- these are all good things. These are important things, and I promise you that it is very unlikely that you won't get to experience more desire, attraction, sexual contact, romance, and heartbreak in the years to come.

Most relationships end. Those that last more than a couple of years undergo dramatic shifts over the course of their tenure. And so, it is very likely that you and your partner will either eventually split, or your various desires and capacities will become incompatible in certain ways, and you will contemplate some kind of change to the relationship dynamic (or someone will fail to communicate this and cheat. hopefully not that one. But if it does happen, well. It's very common and not the end of the world or even necessarily the end of the bond).

How does it feel to confront this information? That in all likelihood, this relationship will either end, open up in some way, change dramatically in its dynamic, or be marked by one or both parties stepping out in some way, however small, be it an online flirtation or a kiss at a party or a sexual affair? I think your feelings in response to that information is important too. And that regardless of what you and your partner decide for the time being, it is an important series of potentialities to reflect on and emotionally prepare oneself for. Also worth asking: are these potential futures ones that you can speak to your partner about? One of them will likely be headed for you in time, not through any fault of your own or due to lack of love, but simply because people change and relationships develop, just like a person develops. Whether or not these are subjects that can be broached is itself valuable information, too.

Now personally, I am very biased, but I think there is very little harm in having some virtual sex with a consenting stranger, roleplaying sexy interactions online, even getting on a dating or cruising app and posting a few anonymized photos and seeing what kind of attention you get and enjoying the rush. I think that kind of thing is all within the realm of the harmless and forgivable, but hey, my sister just ended an engagement over her fiance doing that kind of thing, so not everyone agrees with me clearly.

But I think it is worth at least contemplating the full, long continuum of infidelity that exists, from having a whole secret other marriage and family and keeping a partner in the dark about it on one end, say, and making bedroom eyes with a cute person at the bar and fantasizing about what if what if what if, on the other. If your partner did anything along that whole continuum, you might be hurt, and likewise they might be if you do.

You say you love your partner more than anything and would never do anything to hurt her. But you can't really promise yourself that. Every partner hurts one another in some way or another, sometimes even intentionally, over the course of a long relationship. But hurting one another in a relationship is, also, not the end of the world. We all make mistakes, say things we regret, lose control of our faculties at times, or are simply forced to reconcile that what we need conflicts with what another person does. And sometimes we put our needs first, even though it's uncomfortable.

I don't regret the times I cheated. I regret the lack of communication and cowardice that brought me to that half-formed, unarticulated decision. But I don't regret ever having chosen to listen to needs that had been powerfully screaming inside of me, typically for years before I attended to them.

I think you and your partner should continue having very frank conversations about these topics, and do your best to regulate your own anxieties and feelings of relationship threat when the other party brings up an activity or an idea that makes the other feel scared. The choice isn't to remain monogamous or to become fully polyamorous with no hierarchy. There are a lot of activities you can both decide are either okay or not okay, and conditions under which you will engage in them.

Even what counts as "monogamy" is subject to fierce debate, that's part of why so many jealous straight people destroy one another so easily. Is texting someone you think is cute in a flirtatious but ultimately just friendly way cheating? Is dancing with someone else cheating? What kind of dancing is okay and is not? Is cuddling on the couch? Working on erotica together? Kissing? Is watching porn with someone else cheating? Is masturbating to a video they sent you?

You might have a very visceral response to these questions, but those are just like, your opinions. They are not set in stone and you can easily find another monogamous person who is just as adamant about completely opposing rules and definitions of what monogamy means to them. And so, it's worth talking with your partner and really being honest with yourself about what it is you want to do, what is decidedly off the table, and what the hell it even is that you two are talking about when you discuss your relationship and its limits.

If it were me, and if I could wave a wand and make you and your partner feel okay about and agree to a set of relationship limits, I think you should consider flirting with actual queer people online. But I can't control other people's behavior or emotions, as much as I have tried. But you can at least contemplate (and then discuss) alternate ways of getting the kind of attention that you desire.

There are lots of things you can do to scratch your itch that are not having sex or dating someone else: LARPing (there is larping that has a sexual or romantic component!). Tabletop games. Acting or improv that incorporates romantic or sexual elements. Going to a sex party and just WATCHING people do stuff. Going to a gay bar and just hanging out and socializing. Going to a cruising bar and watching people fuck. Going to a dungeon for a class or a demo. Going on gay speed dating but secretly agreeing that you're not actually going to take anybody home, you're just gonna see how it feels. Wearing a slutty outfit to pride and waving and winking at people. Exchanging heartfelt letters with a queer friend who you have chemistry with but who respects your relationship.

These are just some ideas, but the possibilities are limitless. One day, you and your partner might agree that you are open to having sex with other people, or flirting, but not to them having other lasting relationships. maybe you'll have threesomes together or one partner will watch the other fuck casual hook-ups. Or maybe you'll just break up. Who knows what the future holds! No matter what it is, you can figure it out with both love and commitment to your partner, but also the courage to name what you are feeling and to honor your desires. None of those things have to be incompatible, and monogamy doesn't have to be incompatible with getting a little thrill here and there either.

Good luck!

[handweavers]

i'm a weaver my time is spent sitting at looms and spinning wheels and sewing machines and dye pots, and my ability to make any money at all comes from the fact that my work can't be truly reproduced by machine and speaks to my own and others' desire to reconnect with acts of making and living that are slower and emphasize the physicality of our lives, that we are present in our bodies in a physical world and we are sensorial creatures who relate to each other and the world through tactile means. it serves as a reminder that there is a lot we can do away from screens, that there is joy and meaning to be found in creating something with your hands, and that through this we can find channels to address and learn to live with grief and loss without running from the fact that we are living animals with meatbodies and a finite amount of time.

i think it would be very easy for me to fall into a trap where all modern technology is bad and we need to escape it at all costs and to take a luddite approach to technology - literally a luddite approach, because the phrase "luddite" comes from workers in england during the industrial revolution who destroyed machinery in cotton and wool mills to protest the introduction of that machinery as cost saving measures by the capitalists. but the problem in that situation wasn't inherently the machinery that processed cotton and wool more efficiently, it was that the people who owned the factories used that technology as an excuse to pay fewer workers and maximize profit while creating more unsafe working conditions for the workers that remained. in a situation where the workers owned the factory and the machinery, the introduction of this machinery wouldn't have necessarily been harmful but rather potentially helpful to the workers, for whom more free time wouldn't be a death sentence and proper precautions in the use of the machinery to protect human life could be prioritized

i don't want to make the mistake of confusing technology or some other boogeyman as my enemy. the enemy is capitalism, and i choose to prioritize class consciousness over my private existential worries about new technological developments. all the tech we use is made by humans, just like this economic system we live in. we have the capacity to dismantle economic systems and build new ones, just as we have the capacity to use the tech we make in ways that benefit rather than harm us and the world we live in. my gut tendency is to be distrustful of new tech but i have to remind myself that it isn't helpful and it obfuscates what's actually going on.

[lassify]

Behind Test Subject 007: The Science of Anya’s Telepathy

Okay guys… I’m gonna come clean. I’ve had some scientific hypotheses brewing for a while now (not least to use in my fanfic, lol), but since we might be getting close to getting an Anya arc in the SxF manga, I figured that now was as good a time as any to actually try to arrange those theories in something resembling coherent and share them with you all. 

Disclaimer: I am not trying to position myself as an expert. I have studied Psychology and Cognitive Neuroscience at university level, so just for fun I ended up doing a ton of research on this, and I’ve got a lot to cover, so… wish me luck 😅 References will be embedded in the text!

Heads up that this is on the long side and complex as hell and my head physically hurts, so I’ll tackle it in sections:

Part 1: Psychology

My actual subject, but I’ll only skim over a couple of theories…

Part 2: Cognitive Neuroscience (Structural basis)

In which I will look at the individual brain areas which could be relevant to telepathy

Part 3: Cognitive Neuroscience (Functional basis)

In which I talk about how those brain areas communicate to each other

Part 4: Physics

I’ll admit, not my strongest subject, but I’ll mention a couple of theories which could be relevant

If you're ready for your brain to melt, feel free to keep reading...

Part 1: Psychology

There are 2 main theories in Psychology which could offer some explanation for Anya’s psychic abilities. 

Theory 1: Theory of Mind

In short, this describes a person’s capacity to understand other people. It is similar to sympathy or empathy, but actually it is the ability to understand that another person is different to ourselves, that they have their own desires, motivations, and thoughts, and that this is reflected in their behaviour. Even more importantly, it’s about being able to decode other’s mental states, whilst still being able to differentiate it from our own.

Any parent will know that it is a real effort to teach children about trying to understand other people’s perspectives: this is because children typically have an undeveloped Theory of Mind, and it is something that continues to develop even into adulthood. In adults, having a developed Theory of Mind helps us to understand other people’s perspectives, predict other people’s behaviour, and use both empathy and deception. 

Anya has a really strong Theory of Mind, which is actually so impressive for her young age. She understands the complex web of all the secrets: that Twilight is a spy, Yor is an assassin, Yuri is in the Secret Service, and Bond is precognisant. She also understands who knows what about each other, and how she can use all of this information to her advantage - those are some crazy cognitive skills!!

In terms of how this is related to telepathy, you could argue that someone with a strong Theory of Mind (like Anya) may be more likely to:

Understand that people have hidden feelings that they don’t show 

Demonstrate empathy for emotions 

Collate information about their likes and dislikes and past behaviour to predict future behaviour. 

If she is highly sensitive to these things, then it could look like telepathy (even if it isn’t). 

Theory 2: Hyperesthesia.

Many people will have heard of synesthesia, which is a synthesis of the senses to the extent that the sensory information overlaps, but hyperesthesia is about being highly sensitive to external stimuli of the senses such as sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch. 

I can imagine an overlap with Anya’s hyperesthesia and her Theory of Mind to pick up on the nuances of other people’s behaviour, to the extent that reading behaviour could inform the sensation of “reading minds”. 

In a science-fictional world like SxF we could imagine that hyperesthesia could stretch into the sense of extra-sensory perception, by being sensitive to the electromagnetic signals in other people’s brains (or even geomagnetic - more on that in Part 4). From this, it is possible that Anya could “read” people’s minds through deciphering the electromagnetic waveforms that people’s brains might project (more on deciphering brainwaves in Part 3…). 

Part 2: Cognitive Neuroscience - Structural Basis

I think we can all agree that Anya’s telepathic powers would largely be supported by the specific structures of her brain, especially given that Endo has already dropped hints of neuroscience in the manga, and we know that he’s very much interested in accurately depicting psychology and neuropsychology in his story. 

The best way to encourage certain brain areas to develop is by doing exercises and tasks which would use that part of the brain repeatedly: for example, consistent gymnastics practice would enhance the cerebellum, the centre of balance and motor coordination. But, I can picture the experimenters in SxF trying something a lot less… humane.

Like, experimental neurosurgery. 

For example, theoretically, they could artificially enhance certain brain areas by using a neural growth factor serum (this doesn’t exist in real life, but let’s indulge the science fiction elements for a second), and, theoretically, if the experimenters used glycoproteins as the serum’s main content (like laminins and netrins), they could control the pace and direction of neurons growing in a brain, choosing to focus on cellular growth in certain areas. Then, they would be able to view the activity of the targeted areas using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), and measure it with electroencephalography (EEG, see Part 3 for more on this).

If Anya ever had experimental neurosurgeries during her childhood, they would have likely focused on the following areas: 

Corpus Callosum: The corpus callosum is the thick structure of white matter that connects the two hemispheres of the brain, allowing each hemisphere to send signals to the other. With an enlarged corpus callosum, Anya would be able to process neural signals at a much faster rate, and at an increased volume, helping her to process the additional load required for telepathy.

Wernicke’s Area: Named after German neurologist Carl Wernicke, this part of the superior temporal gyrus (usually of the left hemisphere) is a major part of being able to understand language. With an enhanced Wernicke’s area, Anya would be more sensitive to decoding the neural signals associated with linguistic thoughts, effectively enabling telepathic communication through language. (As an aside, this would also give Anya an advantage in understanding other languages… which could explain her natural talent with Classical Language!)

Superior Temporal Sulcus: This is another area that is important for processing human speech, and is critical for processing social cues, such as understanding others’ intentions (including Theory of Mind!). With experimentation in the STS, Anya would be better able to decode the subtle cues in others’ brains relating to thoughts and emotions.

Inferior parietal lobule: As well as assisting in the interpretation of language and sensory information, the IPL is also involved in tasks like perspective-taking and understanding others' mental states. By increasing connectivity in this area, Anya can "tune into" the thought processes of others. It’s also well-known for its’ role in visuospatial processing, which can help Anya see visual thoughts as well.

Anterior Cingulate Cortex: This system is composed of a number of different parts of the brain, all working together to be able to process things like attention, decision making, inhibition and emotions. Most interestingly, it is associated with detecting conflicts and errors. Increased sensitivity to the ACC would likely help Anya to detect cognitive dissonance and conflicting thoughts in others (the perfect formula to eventually understand tsundere tendencies…).

Amygdala: The amygdala is often known as the centre of fear, but actually it is hugely important in threat detection, emotional processing and emotional memory. If Anya’s amygdala was enhanced, this would aid her ability to detect threats quickly, as well as her empathy skills and help her to intuit others’ emotions and thoughts. (A negative side effect of an enlarged amygdala would be that Anya may be more vulnerable to the effects of toxic stress, possibly making her less resistant to the effects of psychological trauma.)

Mirror neurons: Mirror neurons specialise in helping us to carry out and understand other people’s actions and behaviours, playing a key role in empathy and Theory of Mind. These hold internal representations of thoughts or actions, and could potentially be the key for Anya to be able to translate another person’s thoughts or intentions, assuming that she has a particularly active mirror neuron system.

Precuneus: The precuneus is really difficult to research and is super complex, so I’ll do my best to keep this simple: Located in the medial parietal cortex, this part of the brain is essential for visuospatial imagining and processing, as well as episodic memory, self-reflection, and some aspects of consciousness. I suppose the main thing is that it has a big role in mental imagery, including being able to model other people’s views, therefore helping Anya to process the mental images in other people’s thoughts.

Broca’s area: This is very much non-canon, but I imagine that if Anya ever developed the ability to project her thoughts, the Broca’s area would be key for this. While Wernicke’s area helps with speech understanding, Broca’s area is key for speech production. In my fanfic (SSS), Anya’s Broca’s area probably functioned normally for most of her life, but in the recent experiments imposed on her, the ability to project her thoughts was ‘unlocked’ through the increased activation of the Broca’s area.

Part 3: Cognitive Neuroscience - Functional basis

The thing is, it’s not enough to just know which parts of the brain work for what - there is also the question of how they connect and work together to be able to fulfil their functions. 

Think of it as the wiring which connects the parts of a computer: a motherboard, mouse, keyboard, and graphics card (as examples) are built to fulfil their specific functions, but the real magic is in how they connect and send signals between each other so that everything works smoothly.

That’s where neural oscillations come in - otherwise known as brainwaves. These are generated by the action potentials of nerve cells, and their different speeds can be measured using electroencephalography, or EEG machines, which can measure the patterns of activity across a brain.

Let’s bear in mind that I’m really skimming the surface of this subject, so I won’t go into all the types of brainwaves in too much detail, but I will focus on the ones that I think could be more relevant to Anya’s telepathy:

Gamma waves

This is the pattern of neural oscillations which are correlated with large-scale brain network activity, and are largely predominant in learning, working memory, and processing new information. In other words: gamma waves help Anya to connect all the different parts of her brain which are relevant to her telepathy, so that all the areas can communicate to each other.

(Just as an aside: I found this hilarious study that looked at the effects of different types of nuts on brainwaves, which saw gamma wave responses being improved through pistachios, while peanuts aided in generating more delta waves. I wonder if the lab scientists of SxF caught on…) 

Theta waves

Theta waves are especially prominent in childhood (during sleep). I imagine that the lab may have recruited children partially for this reason (the other reason would be that brains have more plasticity at a younger age, and so can be altered easier than an adult’s brain). In adults, theta waves are also prominent in hypnotic or meditative states, mind wandering, and the early stages of sleep.

I think it is really interesting that theta waves occur during deep relaxation, as well as the early stages of sleep, making it the only brainwave that can activate both during sleep and during wakefulness. (From what I can tell, anyway.) This could make theta waves an important component of Anya’s telepathy - for example, if her telepathy was important to her survival, then it is critical for her to be able to detect thoughts during sleep, and her amygdala could alert her if the thoughts were at all threatening.

During wakefulness, I can imagine that Anya’s theta waves serve as the precursor for the activation of psi waves…

Psi waves

Just to confirm, Psi waves are definitely fictional, but my rationale is that historically, ‘Psi’ (ψ) has been used to denote the unknown factor which is linked with parapsychology and psychic phenomena. 

My theory is that psi waves would be the frequency required for telepathy, which would allow Anya to detect and interpret other people’s thoughts through their pattern of neural activation. In other words: she can probably read brainwaves. 

Modern science is already trying out methods to interpret people’s brainwaves (which is honestly both supremely cool and extremely terrifying), so it’s not too far out of the realm of possibility that Anya would be able to do the same thing just by unconsciously using her psi waves. The psi-waves would essentially mimic a brain-computer interface in being able to process and interpret neural activity (aka thoughts).

If you require a bit more concrete evidence to believe me, I’ve made a list below.

Right now, we can analyse brainwaves using EEG to:

Decode whether someone answers “yes” or “no” to conversational questions 

Control the movement of simple robots, including wheelchairs, which can be locked/unlocked using EEG (and EMG) as a biometric security system

Detect and interpret what emotion someone is feeling, as well as learn how strong that emotion is (at an accuracy rate of 80-94%)

Deconstruct the cognitive processes underlying social interaction in people who struggle to verbally express themselves

And this study analysed brain activation using fMRI to interpret and reconstruct visual images

Neuroscience is really crazy, guys.

Part 4: Physics

So… this is the part I am the least confident about. Please be patient with me and forgive me for any mistakes 🙏.  Also, this is the perfect time to remind you guys that I am really engaging with science fiction here. Emphasis on the fiction 😂. 

Basically, there are 2 main theories from Physics that I think could explain Anya’s telepathy, as well as her weakness(es):

Theory 1: Geomagnetic Field Sensitivity:

All brain waves are generated by electrical activity in the brain, and they also generate electrical activity of their own, which creates an electromagnetic field around the brain.

Anya’s abilities could be tied to the geomagnetic field of the earth, especially during the New Moon: when the moon is positioned between the earth and the sun, this could affect the field’s strength. The subtle alteration in the geomagnetic field could disrupt the electromagnetic field generated by Anya’s brain, thus disrupting the neural processing. 

In other words: the New Moon could interfere with Anya’s own electromagnetic field around her brain, via sensitivity to changes in the geomagnetic field, which could be why she can’t read minds during the New Moon. 

Theory 2: Resonance:

Resonance can be observed in physics, acoustics, musical, electrical, and mechanical systems - but now scientists are even looking at resonance in consciousness, and resonance in brain waves on a quantum level. 

Without going into too much detail (I am not qualified), I think Anya would generate a resonance frequency of her own that helps her to facilitate telepathic communication: through resonance, Anya could synchronise her Psi waves with the brain waves of another person, and it is this synchronicity that helps her to interpret the other person’s brainwaves. 

If Anya ever encountered another telepath (as she does in SSS), I imagine that they wouldn’t be able to read each other’s minds because their resonance frequencies would cancel each other out. 

In SSS, I also introduced the idea of a sub-auditory sound wave which would stop Anya from being able to use her telepathy. The idea behind this was to introduce another weakness for Anya: when this sound wave is emitted or detected, it interferes with the brain's natural telepathic frequency. This is because the sound wave oscillates at a frequency that masks the neural signals required for telepathy, and means that Anya can’t interpret those signals as easily. 

Thanks for reading!

I told you this was long. Sorry 😅

The above is really just a collective mishmash of stuff I’ve been slowly putting together for about the last 6 months, and I fully accept there will be parts that are more plausible than others. 😂 But it was fun, and more than anything I am really excited to see what we get to find out in Anya’s backstory arc (when it gets here…), and if I see any mentions of brains or neuroscience in SxF I will literally die of joy

[pudgedork]

feedist kinktober 2024 #10: containment breach

I was hoping to do more of these this month, but unfortunately some other stuff's come up and I've not had the time :(

I did finally get one done though, so here we go! your feedee fantasies had always been on the extreme side. when people asked about your aspirations, you had to resist the urge to answer truthfully. you’d instead talk about some career that sounded respectable, or how you wanted to travel, or something inoffensive like that. in reality, your sole desire was to get obscenely fat. you didn’t have a particular number in mind; but you wanted to be a spectacle, and you wanted to achieve this as soon as possible.

initially you tried gaining by yourself, but you soon realised this wasn’t going to achieve the results you were looking for. you managed to find some feeders online who would help pay for stuffing sessions, which helped greatly. the budget required for your lofty goals was substantial though, and soon even this arrangement proved insufficient.

a few years – and a couple hundred pounds – into your gain, you got a lucky break. you met someone who was interested in helping you reach your full potential. they’d learned of your extreme goals and wanted to find out if you were serious. this wasn’t the first time they’d heard a story like this though; feedees who claimed to want to become huge, but who’d inevitably end up bailing out well short of their goals.

they wanted you to prove your commitment first. if you did, they would completely fund your gain. they’d move you into an apartment near them, and everything would be taken care of for you; all you would have to do is eat all day, every day, for the rest of your life. you could become the whale you’d always dreamed of being.

originally this feeder had intended for you to complete some smaller challenges to prove your desire was genuine. when you managed to pack on 40 pounds in three months though, it was clear to them you meant business. soon they were helping you move into the new apartment they’d bought for you, and your weight began to absolutely balloon.

about a year prior to meeting your feeder, you weighed a little over 350 pounds. with their assistance, you were on the verge of 500 pounds a year later. another year came and went, and you now exceeded the capacity of your 600 pound limit scale. you had no intention of slowing down.

your lust for obesity had transcended desire, to become something you required. your appetite was insatiable. you were downing pints of weight gain shake like they were glasses of water. you were borderline feral each time you tore into another fast food delivery. it was a good thing your feeder was wealthy, because the bottomless pit in your gut was costing them a fortune.

within a few years of living this way, the effects were… dramatic. since moving into your apartment, you hadn’t actually left at any point. initially this was down to pure laziness; you could have all the food you desired delivered to your door, so why burn precious calories by going outside? soon you struggled with clothing; you didn’t own anything that could adequately cover even a fraction of your bulk, which you took as a sign to stay home. eventually, you simply became too wide to fit through the front door; not that you ever actually bothered trying, though.

for most, that would be the point where the consequences of their greed jolted them to their senses. even most hardcore feedees would – upon realising they had become so fat they were trapped in their apartment – probably dial things back a bit. for you, this achievement barely registered.

as the months passed, it became increasingly difficult to haul yourself to your feet. not wanting to hinder your progress, your feeder hired a live-in maid to eliminate the need for you to move. literally everything – short of lifting food to your mouth and chewing – was now done for you. the woman hired as your maid handled everything else, and – under the instruction of your feeder – constantly encouraged you to push yourself; to keep expanding, to keep getting heavier.

the pounds continued to pile on, and soon enough you had entered true blob territory. quite how heavy you were was a mystery, but it was hard to imagine there were many – if indeed any – people fatter than you on the planet. it had been years since you were last capable of hauling your enormous ass out of bed, and you lived in a permanent state of bliss.

and yet, you’d remained a secret. despite your pleasure from the absurd amount of weight you’d piled on, the anonymity left you a little unfulfilled. delivery drivers occasionally spoke of the enormous person who lived in this apartment complex, but nobody had seen them in years.

most wrote it off as an urban legend, and even those who believed the stories assumed there was a hefty degree of artistic license at play. others in the building had noticed there was one unit on the first floor that seemed to get an awful lot of deliveries, but the woman who answered the door was fairly thin. as far as they were aware, nobody else lived there.

you had achieved your fantasy; a helpless eating machine, living in your own little hedonistic haze without a care in the world. as far as you could reach out, all you could feel were the endless waves of your own flab. nobody would ever tell you to slow down, criticise you for what you'd become, beg you to get a hold of your addiction… you would be enabled and encouraged from here on out. it was perfect.

that was, until it happened. the day you breached containment. it was a pleasant, unremarkable friday evening. most of your neighbours were arriving home from work, while you were busy finishing your second gallon of weight gain shake to wash down the several dozen donuts you’d inhaled in the last hour. as you released a satisfied belch – and your maid lifted the funnel away as she climbed off of you – you heard an odd creaking noise. you were used to the floor straining a little as you leaned your weight around, but this sounded more… intense? was the bed going to collapse?

before you had a chance to process this thought, the floor of your bedroom completely caved in beneath your bed. you crashed through to the ground floor below; dropping into the middle of the lobby. thankfully you landed on a seating area that wasn’t in use, and between your now destroyed bed and your own ample padding the impact hadn’t been especially sore. once you collected your thoughts however, the reality of the situation set in.

you had gotten so fat, that your apartment floor couldn’t support your weight anymore. you hadn’t even considered that as a possibility. but here you lay, in a crater caused by your sheer mass; completely naked, beached, and with a room full of strangers staring in stunned silence at you. they gawked at your rolls, beginning to whisper among themselves; you were absolutely mortified. in different circumstances you’d want the ground to swallow you up, but you’d had enough of that for one day. yet despite this utter humiliation – or perhaps, thanks to it – you’d never felt so aroused in your life.

well you had always wanted to be a spectacle, hadn’t you?

[flightfoot]

You know, I love seeing Alya in a lot of different fics, and I've seen her depicted in a few different ways.

I enjoy seeing her just being there, taking on a similar role to what she does in the show, helping out when needed, and overall being a kind person who enjoys helping others.

But while I like seeing her in that capacity, since it's a positive portrayal that is nice to her, it's not the sort of portrayal that really gets me excited. It's a kind of "background, supporting character" kind of portrayal, and while that's needed sometimes, it doesn't really develop her all that much.

The depictions of her that really get me excited, that make me gush about how well the fanfic's treating her, are the ones that don't just portray her positively, but instead treat her like a full person. Ones that delve into her emotions, her viewpoint, and even her biases, that let her make decisions based on what's best for her personally, and maybe even regret them later. But importantly, she's not treated as being bad or evil for this, but instead as a person who's muddling through life as best she can, who has things she wants and values in conflict.

Actually the show touched on this sort of thing as well, it's one of the reasons I really liked Alya in Rocketear. We got to see her struggle with her conflicting loyalties to both Marinette and Nino, with wanting to follow Marinette's orders while also not wanting to lie to Nino and potentially damage their relationship. And I liked her eventually telling Nino that she's helping Ladybug, because she didn't want to continue lying to him after that particular lie had already caused damage in their relationship. And while Alya later was dismayed at how things went down in the finale, Marinette didn't blame her, understood where she was coming from, and wanted her to continue.

That's the sort of thing I want to see. For Alya to have her own viewpoint and to make decisions based not simply on eternal loyalty to one person, but as a result of weighing her different values and wanting things to work out in the best way she can make them. And for her to sometimes be wrong or for something to have negative consequences, and still have her treated with kindness and respect. For her desires to be treated as being a worthy reason to do things, because her desire to be happy matters.

Like... with Marinette, I'll see this represented in fanfiction frequently. Marinette can be snappy or irritated, or even lie and hide things because she thinks they'll lead to a better outcome, and even when she hurts others in the process, the narrative is often sympathetic to her and gives credence to her thoughts, emotions, and viewpoints, and depicts her trying to make things better for herself as an understandable thing.

While for Alya, it's a lot harder to find something like that. Most of the time she's in a supportive role where any personal issues she has aren't focused on and she's mostly there to help out Marinette with whatever she has going on. In a lot of fics where she DOES do something for her own personal benefit, when she prioritizes herself at all or simply weighs all her different relationships and balances them as best she can, but in a way that's detrimental to the person the author likes the most, she'll be portrayed as a horrible, cruel person deserving of punishment, or at the very least as needing to learn a harsh lesson to become a better person. Any desire to do something for herself or to help maintain relationships she values is looked at in the worst possible light.

Just... I love stories that allow Alya the same sort of grace and understanding as most main characters are afforded.

[intothedysphoria]

Going from a social outcast to seemingly universally desired was a change that Billy found himself sorely lacking the capacity to deal with.

It felt like barely a year ago he was just the fat kid with the asshole dad. The kid who was more comfortable speaking Irish than English. The weird kid who couldn’t sit still in class and had “outbursts” that would leave a classroom completely overturned.

Now he’d lost weight (not by choice), had to speak English if he didn’t want to be uprooted for a third time and was supposedly taking his adderall post ADHD diagnosis. Neil was still an asshole but that would never change.

He was desirable now. A hot commodity. Had the approval of everyone apart from his own fucking dad.

In short, Billy was absolutely miserable.

He missed California a lot. He missed Belfast even more. He missed being fat. He missed his mam and grandad. He missed everything.

Showing any signs of weakness was how it started though. So Billy did what he always did. He adapted.

Harrington was weird. Taking the crown from him was almost too easy. For all the talk he’d been fed about King Steve, what Billy got was a teenager who couldn’t make eye contact, spent an hour reading two pages of a textbook and walked like a penguin when nobody was watching.

Good thing Billy didn’t mind weird.

The usual taunts didn’t really work. All it really achieved was getting Harrington flat on his back on the gym floor and that got Billy thinking about sex which wasn’t helpful.

Harrington just stared up at him with these big startled eyes. Like a damn deer. The pointed star he wore around his neck swayed as Billy let him up. Jewish maybe. Billy felt his hand unconsciously drift down towards his own pendant, the one his granny had given him.

The one that would help him find his way back home.

They fought within a week. Arsehole had Max holed up in a strangers house. It made Billy’s skin crawl just thinking about it. Especially after having to flirt with Karen Wheeler just to get any answers, All he could remember was that he was winning then the world started going black.

When he woke up there was a dead something in the fridge. He probably hadn’t woken up at all then. His body took that hint as a sign to collapse again.

He woke up again. A small woman with mousy brown hair and a nervous tic was cooking. Billy could hear The Clash drifting from another room. Christmas lights were scattered across the wall. It was the first place in Hawkins that had actually felt like home.

The woman’s name was Joyce. The house he’d found Harrington and Max and the nightmare in had been her house. She was dressed practically and smelled like paint and reminded him so much of his own mam that his heart hurt.

She was a good cook. The soup wasn’t like anything he’d ate before, probably Polish but it was fantastic. She asked if he wanted to stay the night. He said no.

Neil would be waiting. He always was.

Neil had burned the damn book. The one Billy had wrote when he was seven, colouring all the words in orange and white and green. It hurt more than any punch every could have.

He was under house arrest again. Only let out when Max needed a fucking taxi to a Christmas dance. Harrington was a couple of cars away, fussing over a boy of about thirteen who could have been his younger brother.

They weren’t biologically brothers. But Henderson was his cousin. So they were in spirit. Those were some of the things Billy learned from a few strained sentences of conversation.

He apologised in a way so Billy reluctantly returned one. Apparently he hadn’t realised how fucking dodgy he’d looked with Max.

Billy was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Neil kicked him out of the house on Christmas Day for hanging an Irish flag on his door. Billy went to the Byers. Joyce’s family didn’t exactly celebrate Christmas but she still gave him a present.

She gave him gorgeous Polish cakes which were fucking delicious and some of Jonathan’s old vinyls which he didn’t listen to anymore.

That day Billy discovered The Specials and tucked the vinyl under his weed stash in the Camaro boot. Somewhere Neil would never think to look.

Harrington was tolerable after Christmas break. Tolerable in an infuriating way because Billy still wanted to fuck him. The queerness wasn’t something he’d told anyone about though apart from Patrick McKinney so he kept those thoughts to himself.

He spent more time at the Byers, learned what Shabbat was, came out to Joyce in a flood of tears, kissed Harrington, wrote a letter back to Ireland for the first time in two years and made a plan to get the hell out of Hawkins Indiana.

Harrington managed to pass high school with a lot of bribery and tutoring and kissing at his place. Jesus but Harringtons house was a bloody mansion. Billy had spent his first eight years in a terraced shared accommodation where his entire extended family had lived. Harrington had five bathrooms and his own television. Not even in black and white.

Billy got his predicted mix of A’s and B’s so he was happy and spent most of the weekend post graduation floating on his back in the Harrington pool, beer in hand. He couldn’t afford to slack off completely though. So he got a summer job.

Working at the community pool was fine. As long as Billy didn’t think about the middle aged women staring at him like a piece of meat. Fucking perverts. Heather was fun though. Funny. The only lesbian he’d met in Hawkins apart from Buckley.

Neil had started acting even weirder than usual after a night Billy had slept over at his boyfriends. He’d taken to ice baths and Billy swore he’d seen the man drinking bleach. Ugh.

Max was pretty obviously freaked out though so Billy slowly phased her into spending most nights at the Byers or the Sinclairs or Steve’s. Susan wouldn’t budge. Something in Billy’s chest felt a bit sick about that.

The Fourth of July they were in the mall, the one Steve worked at. Something even more hellish than the thing in the fridge stood above them. And Neil just stood by with blank, hateful eyes and let it happen.

He died. Billy killed him. Stabbed him in the chest then the monster went away.

Steve was gripping his shoulders as he stood there, Neil’s blood on his jacket and he cried.

Susan left.

Social services took Max. Billy cried a lot that day. She was living with some family in Michigan. They promised to keep in touch.

Billy went to therapy twice a week. A guy from County Mayo who Billy trusted immediately.

There was no point really in Joyce adopting him as he was over eighteen. Besides she didn’t need to. Billy knew who his family were.

A letter came back from Belfast. Inviting both him and Steve back to his grandparents house. Steve had never left the US, had never really left the Midwest actually. Billy wanted to show him everything.

The years went by and Billy regained weight. He stopped speaking English as much and was determined to teach Steve Irish. He still sometimes forgot to take his adderall and had awful nightmares but Steve was there to make it better.

He was alive. And life was pretty ok.

[matan4il]

have you ever been able to have any Palestinian friends? I'm not asking this as a gotcha question at all, but sincerely (I know anons on here can be scary), I was wondering about it because an Israeli I follow on Instagram was asked about this a few days ago in his stories, and he said he was never able to have friends in Gaza, but he did have friends in the West Bank, and they've almost all cut him off completely following 10/7, and some really hurt him by showing support for the massacre. he said he's still got his Arab Israeli and Palestinian friends who are Israeli citizens, that they may disagree sometimes but haven't to a breaking point because they live in the nation together and want peace and are supportive of each other through differences, but those friendships in the West Bank are sadly over. he also said that he's had friends he's known for years from places all over the world who dropped him after the terror attack just because he's Israeli and Jewish, which I think is all too familiar for ALL of us because I don't know a single Jew who hasn't lost multiple friends, online and off, through all this and through no fault of their own, just existing as Jews. it makes me so sad. but knowing he was cut off because of support of the massacre from Palestinians was depressing to hear, you think people are your friends and then find out they approve your people's rape and slaughter? and until they stop deeply hating Jews to that point, how can there be peace? he seems like such a good person and centers humanity and does want peace, as I know most Israelis do, but one side can't achieve that alone.

sorry this is long. *hugs*

Hi Nonnie,

thank you for the ask, and I hope you're doing good! *hugs*

I have had Palestinian friends. True, not from Gaza. Israel left it in 2005, and there has been an internationally recognized border between us since. Ironically, I think the only Israelis who could have given you a different answer up until Oct 7 were the southern communities that Hamas attacked and massacred. They lived right on the border, most were left wing Israelis, many volunteered to help Palestinians in one capacity or another (such as driving them to get medical care inside Israel), or chose to employ Palestinians (despite how some might have warned them that it's a security risk), and that illusion of friendship was shattered when it became clear that it was exactly those Gazans who provided the intel on southern Israeli communities, that was needed to plan and carry out the massacre. Not every single Gazan, of course. But enough that this is a true betrayal in the worst sense of the word.

In my case, some of the Palestinians I've befriended over the years have been uni friends or colleagues, but the closest and longest lasting friendships have been with gay Palestinians who I share a community with. They can't be safely openly gay anywhere under Palestinian rule, so they would come to Israeli gay community centers, and were received warmly there. I also was in one fandom, where someone heard I'm from Jerusalem, and said they know another Israeli from Jerusalem. Turned out, it was a Palestinian girl from East Jerusalem, and while I'm no longer that active in said fandom, I'm still in touch with that girl.

I feel very lucky to say that I haven't lost these friendships since Oct 7. Ironic, because I've "lost" friendships (if that's what they ever were) with so many hypocritical foreigners who don't live this conflict, and aren't affected by it, beyond their need to show everyone they're "on the right side," but I haven't lost the people who are actually a part of it. It's almost like foreigners have no idea about the actual complicated reality of this conflict, nor a desire to learn about it, just a need to reduce it to "good" and "bad," taking whichever side social media tells them is the former. My Palestinian friends know me, they know how I treat other human beings (spoiler alert: as human beings!) and they also know my opinions, and that I see myself as being both pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian. I guess they agree with me that my opinions are in favor of both groups, or I'm sure that they would have cut ties with me already.

There is one exception, though it predates Hamas' massacre. I've mentioned in my pride post that I've volunteered for the gay community in my city, at the Jerusalem Open House. In fact, there was a certain year where I won an award for being the organization's stand out volunteer. I mention this, because I have always seen myself as being there for everyone, and I feel like that award was an acknowledgement of that.

The very first Palestinian queer organization ever actually started out as "the Palestinian project" of the JOH, an attempt to create a safe space for, support and help queer Palestinians. One member of the group became very dominant and after a few years, she decided they should be an independent organization. The JOH gave its blessing, and agree to rent out one of its offices to her, and provide the physical space for the organization's activities (since obviously, they couldn't be openly held in Ramallah or Bethlehem, under the rule of the Palestinian Authority). I met her there, and we became friends. Not the closest, but def more than just acquaintances. I was very proud of her work for her community, and often told others about it.

One day, I was sitting in the JOH main space, talking to people about the problem of honor killings. It's widespread within Arab society (one researcher believes about 20,000 women are murdered for this around the world every year), and that includes Palestinians. I was specifically asked about it, and was answering the question out of a deep concern for Palestinian lives, mainly women and queers (including my own friends), threatened or murdered for the perception that they "violated" their family's honor. For the record, such a violation can be simply a guy kissing another one, a woman being raped, a biological male coming out and living as a trans woman, a mother getting a divorce and dating a new man, or a daughter defying her father's wishes and pursuing higher education. I have seen Palestinians (and Israeli Arabs) murdered for all of these reasons, and I HATE it and think more needs to be done to prevent such crimes. I also have queer Palestinian friends, who have tried to seek refuge in western countries because of a threat to their lives within their own society, sometimes from their own families. They were denied, and had to go deep into the closet. It's a miserable existence, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

She walked by while I was talking. IDK what exactly she heard, but she then went to the CEO of the JOH and complained that I was being racist. For caring about the lives of Palestinians. For comparison, I linked above to an Amnesty International piece about honor killings. Are they being racist for bringing up this problem, and speaking up for Arab women everywhere, too? The CEO called me in for a talk, was convinced that I wasn't being racist, and that was that. But it left me shook up. That was the first time I realized that this woman prioritized Palestinian society's appearance, over the actual well being of fellow Palestinian women and queers. I never talked to her again after that, nor did she ever speak to me.

I also started seeing her and her organization becoming openly anti-Israel, even when it harmed the community she was supposed to serve. In Sep 2021, there was even an article published about it, calling out the hypocrisy of attacking Israel, while this country's existence is what even enables that organization to operate, since they can't do so under Palestinian rule. And my friends who were seeking sanctuary from the threats to their lives from within their own society? They never got legal help in that pursuit from her organization, only from Israeli ones. I think that's a tragedy.

The last time her organization filed the needed reports to be officially recognized as an NGO in Israel was 2020. They obviously continued to be active after that, and still are (at least on social media, where they echo the anti-Israel narrative since the war started), but IDK if they're even doing anything real for queer Palestinians anymore, or whether she still heads it. Whenever I think about it, I'm just sad for all the people she should have helped, but who turned out to be less important to her than a nationalistic, antisemitic (that's what it is when she demands self determination for her people, but denies that right to Jews, as she does by supporting the BDS movement) and self-destructive (to her own community) struggle.

And yes, on a personal level, I felt betrayed by her, though I've also felt like her betrayal of her own people was way worse.

I think at the end of the day, for many Palestinians and Israeli Arabs, the question is what are they more attached to, that nationalistic, antisemitic struggle, or they (and their people's) well being. If you look at Mosab Hassan Youssef, I think what says it all, is that the son of a Hamas co-founder could end up on the side of Israel, initially not because of anything Israel did, but because he saw Palestinians in prison being tortured and killed by Hamas, and he gave a damn about his own people.

BTW, out of curiosity, who is the Israeli you're following, who got you wondering about this? And I really hope my reply was in some way helpful. Take good care! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)