#but i have huge respect for people who do whatever the fuck they want with these characters

[carniferous]

not to start a debate and then turn it into jl vs jeg beef god knows some people need to chill

but also uhm

jeg requires james’ character bending to some extent and more bc canon james was white straight rich man who was very much happy about it and took advantages of his privileges, same can’t be said about reg (yeah he also was privileged. insanely) bc he overall has three sentences about him? he could be a lil weirdo who stalked his brother and his friends, a serial killer with impressive kill count, or just a guy who was just there or everything at once. and i think it’s okay to admit, jeg existence is based on liking green and red together or salt chips with honey, you know, personal preference and imagination and the will to chew glass daily bc they’re too damn tragic.

however jl is bend too. i read them mostly with wolfstar and they’re both usually toned down in order to work. it’s jkr fault, she never wrote them falling in love and she straight up forgot to give james positive traits and describe his maturity process, like he was a massive dick and then he changed completely in a year and lily easily overcame her dislike and boom, they had a baby. in the middle of the war, while fighting and wizards didn’t know what abortion was, obviously. so i completely understand why james is often written a bit differently, in more positive light and with reasons to be an asshole and why lily’s dislike for james is erased and her character isn’t as intense as she is in canon.

bending characters shouldn’t be a crime, especially hp characters 🧍🏼‍♀️

yeah slay idk what you mean by bending of characters the james and regulus that exist in my mind are actually perfectly crafted characters whose every action i can trace back to some piece of punctuation in canon that validates my interpretation

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Cosmopolitan: sober thoughts

Word Count: 6.1k Contents: their first date, cursing, a little angsty, but mostly fluffy, not proofread (barely skimmed this so again, dunno how much sense it makes)

“Before you get any bright ideas, just know I’m sharing my location with at least ten people.”

Whistling, the biggest pain in your ass saunters over to you

The moon is full, a big white orb that would otherwise bring you a lot of peace to look at but right now, only pisses you off for reasons you’d rather not spend too much time pondering. Rarely anyone comes around these parts; it’s at the very edge of the city, a half-hour drive from campus, and surrounded by miles of dull, old suburbia. You’re standing in front of a metal gate, slightly taller than you, with vines wrapping around the pickets. It swings slowly with every gust of wind, creaking before it meets the stone wall with a bang.

Gojo grimaces. 

“Seriously, did you have to choose the scariest place in all of Eden? I mean, I respect the commitment to the aesthetic, but this is just crazy,” he grumbles, eyeing the cathedral from its huge marble pillars to the sharp spires piercing the night sky. 

You roll your eyes. Trust him to leave the date planning to you just to complain every step of the way. You’re already regretting playing along with whatever games he’s conjured up this time, but at least you’ve got home turf advantage; you know this place like the back of your hand. There won’t be any surprises happening tonight. 

Without replying, you walk off, heading straight through the gate. 

“Hey, wait! Don’t leave me here. I don’t want to end up as a statistic.”

Shrugging, you say, “If you’re scared, you can go back home.”

When he doesn’t say a thing and follows you, you smile. You win. But that feeling of victory doesn’t last very long because then he starts muttering about the cobwebs and how they’re everywhere, then about the tombstones, how they’re so messy with moss covering the engravings and that ‘the spirits must definitely be like so mad about all that’, and when you don’t respond to any of his musings, he even complains about the eerie music foreshadowing his pending doom, like in Jaws.

There is no music. 

“Where are we even going?” He pokes your shoulder, snatching his hand back faster than you can swat at it. “I thought we were going to, I don’t know, have a picnic under the stars and cuddle on top of someone’s grave, like Mary Shelley did.”

“How the fuck do you even know about that?” 

Gojo lifts one shoulder. “Must have heard it online or something.”

You roll your eyes again — you have a feeling you’ll be doing a lot of that tonight, maybe even for the rest of your life if things go the way your parents plan. When you had first found out the village idiot is the president of the most sought-after fraternity of the most prestigious university in the country, you thought maybe no one else had stepped up. But then you found out he’s a Legacy --the Gojos have governed that fraternity since its conception -- and well, the pieces fell into place. 

Mischief no doubt sparkling in your eyes, you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are full of suspicion and when they meet yours, he becomes even more doubtful of your intentions. With a grin, you whisper, “We’re going someplace no one will hear you scream.”

“Kinky.”           

That didn’t have the desired effect. How annoying. Though you don’t fail to notice how he moves in closer to you, his warmth radiating to your body through your black, fur cloak. You don’t shift away. 

Gesturing for him to follow you through a gap in a wooden fence, you squeeze through to avoid splinters, pulling at your dress when a piece of lace catches on a nail. Just as you’re about to offer advice on how to contort his body to get through, he climbs over the fence and lands on his feet without stumbling, all in one quick sweep, like he’s who wanders these hallowed grounds at night and not you. 

“What?” He asks when he spots your glare. 

Not even those stupid sunglasses are out of place. Very annoying, indeed. 

“Come quickly,” you bark, fixing your silk gloves to cover more of your skin as the chill settles in. It’s only six in the evening, and yet there’s no hint of light in the broad expanse above you, just the moon and the stars lighting your way, and occasionally your companion’s phone flashlight when he needs to look at what he’s stepped in. 

He laughs. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“Do you make it a habit to talk about your sex life with a girl on a first date?”

“You’re the first, so not a habit. Not yet anyways.” 

Screeching to a halt, your hand clutches his elbow to still him. Your jaw is slack and you’re staring, completely disbelieving. “There’s no way this is your first date. You took that girl to the casino.”

Gojo stares off into the distance as he ponders the notion, fingers tapping his chin. Then, he insists, “No, it really is my first date. And anyways, I don’t consider that night a date; she pretty much invited herself along. It was more like I was just taking her to the casino as her escort. Or maybe that does count as a date. If so, then I’ve been on a lot of dates. But none where I’ve actually used the word date. Does that even matter because —“ 

You wave a hand in front of his face to cut off his rambling; he talks way too much. “So, you’re telling me, I’m the first girl you’ve ever asked out on a date? That’s insane, Gojo. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests with a frown.

“You sure acted like you did for months,” you counter. 

He insists, “I don’t hate you. Never did. I just acted out but yeah, I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and continue walking. “It’s fine. Water under the bridge.” 

“You sure? ‘Cause I can get on my knees and beg.”

“Don’t tempt me, Gojo.”

He catches up to you and hums a playful tune, his light mood returning; Serious Gojo is gone like he never existed. “Guess that’s what you’re into, huh?”

“You’ll never know,” you snort, pushing a branch away from your face and letting it snap back into his chest, he yelps.

His hand reaches past you, lifting a thicker branch high above the both of you, before leaning close to your ear and whispering conspiratorially, “We’ll see.”

Disregarding the shiver than runs through you, you push on, moving almost on muscle memory alone. Your mind is attempting to distract itself by scanning the area, being careful not to be caught on church grounds after hours, pushing through the woodland to get to the clearing tucked away at the very back, where you go for peace and quiet. 

Truthfully, you have no idea why you decided to have this date here, of all places. This place is sacred. Literally but also figuratively — this is the place you always ran to when the world got a little too loud, a little too busy and bright for you. No one else knows about this haven as far as you’re aware and you always thought you’d do anything to keep it that way. And yet, you’re showing it to him. Actually, guiding him to the place. 

You should have at least blindfolded him so he couldn’t memorise the way. 

Maybe you wanted to spite him by living up to his expectations and being the gothic monster that he thinks you are -- you want to scare him off before he lets his curiosity take him too close to something that might scald him. He needs to be afraid of you. 

Or maybe you recognised that shadow in his eyes, the ones that suggests he’s lost as much sleep about this whole farce as you and thought he could do with a little silence. 

You both arrive at a thick bush, a massive wall of a shrub towering over even Gojo. Behind you, the cathedral is only a blob, lit up by lanterns, whereas you’re both submerged in darkness; there are no streetlamps here. 

“I’m totally going to be murdered here, aren’t I?” He whistles as if to say, ‘it’s been a good life, and I’ll have to just accept my fate’. 

“Yeah, I was lying when I said it was all water under the bridge. I’ve actually been colluding with the devil to sacrifice your white ass.”

Gojo laughs.

He laughs a lot, but rarely like this, you note. He chuckles when his friends do something stupid like push him into the fountain, and he snorts when he reads the most recent article on The Bulletin. But you’ve never really seen him throw his head back and clutch his stomach, at least not with anyone but you. He does it when you get caught texting him under the dinner table, when you give him the middle finger from across the Quad, and that one time you bumped into him in the hallway and almost apologised before you realised it was him.

It’s the kind of laugh that’s infectious, and you hoped every time he does it that you’re somehow immune. However, when he looks at you with a brightening sparkle in his eyes, you realise you’re very much not. 

You clear your throat again. 

“Through here, is a very special place. You must swear you will not desecrate this place, lest the Mother Crone curse you for your treachery,” you announce, wiggling your fingers at him for extra flair. 

Placing a hand on his heart, he stomps his foot like a soldier and swears, “I would never. I will take this secret to the grave.”

Satisfied, you grab the loose part of the hedge wall and pull it aside to reveal the little doorway to your secret hideout. He throws you a side glance before he ducks down and enters. You follow behind him, tucking the disguised door behind you. 

He doesn’t say a thing as you zoom to the side where you grope for something in the grass, right under part of the hedge. When you feel the smooth, cold plastic, you don’t hesitate to switch it on. 

Long wires of fairy lights light up, bulb by bulb, along the top of the hedge and down, like a really wide Christmas tree circling the hidden clearing. You hear him mutter a ‘woah’ under his breath as he scans the area — there’s only one thing here on the flat ground, it’s also lit up fairy lights along the top pole. It’s your most prized possession.

“You have a swing?” He shouts incredulously. Giggling like a child, he makes a run for it, jumping onto one of the two seats where he rocks back and forth on his feet. Then he’s whooping as he swings higher and higher, hair whooshing back and forth as he grins, taking in the cold autumnal air and the growing warmth of the lights. “This is freaking awesome!”

Sitting on the spare seat, you kick your feet gently so you can swing a little. Deep down there was a worry festering within, anxious that he would find this place boring, that he’d scoff at your idea of fun especially on a first date, but looking up at him, still hollering and grinning, you think, that was such a silly thought. 

Gojo slows to a mild back and forth momentum and wonders, “Are you sure I’m allowed to be here? This place seems pretty private, like your own mancave or something. Do girls have a version of a mancave? ‘Womancave?”

In the corner of your eye, you see him clamber down to sit as you answer his question. “I wouldn’t have taken you here if you weren’t allowed, dumbass.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still not convinced this isn’t an elaborate scheme to murder me and hide my body in a grave.”

“Neither.” You shrug. 

He laughs. 

Eventually, you both swing side by side, alternating up and then down. The wind is howling a little, rustling the trees surrounding you and the moon’s obscured by dark cloud. Neither you nor he say anything to break the silence. You were also worried that you’d come to hate his presence in your safe space, finding his tall, lanky presence an irritation, but surprisingly, you don’t mind it. 

It’s nice to have company. 

Especially when that company is keeping his mouth shut. 

“How often do you come here?”

Or not. 

With a sigh, you reply, “Like twice a week. I can’t come as often as I’d like because of all the classes and stuff, not to mention all the wedding planning we have to do.”

“Guess you have it worse than me since I don’t even need to be fitted for a suit; they already have my measurements,” he muses. 

“For whatever reason, it’s always the women who have to plan these things, even though it’s the men that propose.” You accidentally make eye contact with him. “Or at least, that’s how it usually goes.”

Gojo hums, a little sheepishly, before he changes the subject. “So, how did you find this place?”

“We buried my grandmother in the graveyard when I was fifteen. We were close and I took the loss pretty hard. I couldn’t stand all the people pretending they cared so I ran off, got lost and found this clearing. Well, I actually fell through the hedge, but I found it, nonetheless. And this swing was here already. I don’t know how long it’s been here or why it’s here, but it is.”

“That sounds like a fairytale.” He swivels, swinging a long leg over to straddle the seat, facing you as he leans back against the metal chain. “I’m sorry for your loss, by the way. I lost my grandmother too and it was rough.”

You saw that on the news years ago, it was one of those private family events that make the national headlines by complete virtue of the family name. Your parents grieved in public like it was their own loss and you didn’t understand why. Of course, as you got older, you became more and more acquainted with the idea of ‘reputation’ and ‘public image’, but you still feel that same distance to the concept as you did when you were but a child. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you repeat back to him.

He shrugs. “It’s alright. I’ve got my gramps. We’re best buddies.”

“You have a lot of best buds, don’t you?” 

Gojo strikes you as the kind of guy who makes friends easily, thought you question the depth of most of those friendships; sincerity is a rare phenomenon in your world. 

“No,” he huffs, “I have Suguru, the girl that gave you my number, and gramps. I have lots of close friends, though.”

Considering his words, you realise you don’t have any best friends. Sure, you have friends you hang out with often, people that share your interest, that you can party with, but none you feel as strongly about as he does with those three people. You can hear it in his voice, the conviction, the pride, the confidence. And when you glance at him, you know he doesn’t even realise how defensive he sounds about his people.

How nice it must be to have someone like him as a friend.

“We could be friends, if you’d like,” he offers, and when you look at him with confusion, he adds, “You said it out loud, silly. You think I’m a good person to be friends with. Which, of course I am. I’m like super awesome.”

You burst out laughing. What he said isn’t even funny and he certainly doesn’t mean for it to be, but for some reason it is. So, you laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach. He makes noises of complaints, telling you it’s rude to laugh at people. That makes you laugh harder. 

“Gojo, be serious for a second. We can’t be friends, idiot,” you push out between puffs of laughter. 

He frowns, lips twitching to fight back a smile at your flushed face. “Why not? We’re getting along fine right now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, for now. But we’re going to be married. Or at least, we’re supposed to be. And think of all the complications that brings, it just doesn’t provide the conditions for a healthy friendship, especially considering our beginning. Think of all the people in our circle who had arranged marriages. How many of them get along? Like, really get along. Hell! Think about our parents.”

“Well, we could be different. We don’t have to end up like them. We can break the cycle or something.”

You stop laughing.

Something shifts in the air, like the moon’s reappeared, the wind’s slowed down, and his eyes shine just a little brighter. It’s sudden and you almost don’t notice it, almost shrug it off. But there’s a sincerity lingering between you and it demands your attention.

Fixing him a solemn look, perhaps similar to the one he gave you before, you assert, “That sounds an awful like an admission of surrender, Gojo.”

“Maybe it is.”

The speed at which he concedes, the sheer resolution in his eyes and the way he doesn’t falter when he says it all scream at you something you won’t accept. Can’t.

He grips your elbow, his long fingers wrapping around the limb with ease, demanding your attention. The sombre expression on his ghostly face haunts you. It’s like he’s shifted into a different person, into someone years older, a man burdened with great responsibility. 

“I’m sorry. About how I started this year off. I regretted everything I said as soon as I said them. I can’t even remember why I said and did those things, but I definitely don’t have a good reason,” he rasped, a desperation lacing his words like he needs you to understand, like he tosses and turns over it. “I know you’re just as much a victim of this as I am, but I was facing a problem I didn’t know to solve, and I lashed out. At you. At someone who didn’t deserve it. And I’m sorry.”

You reel back, snatching your arm away. His touch burns the way ice does, and you have to rub warmth back into it, despite the layers between your skin and his. The sincerity in his eyes is alien, revealing far more about the ongoings of reality than you can absorb in one night. Confusingly, your heart is pounding to the beat of a song you’ve never heard before. 

This date thing, taking him to your secret haven, giving him the opportunity to see you not as the enemy but rather as a woman was a mistake. It’s all one big mistake. It would have been fine if he had stayed as the Gojo you knew, the boisterous, obnoxious party animal that cares only about immediate gratification. But the man in front of you is not someone you can marry. He isn’t the type of man you can be around and feel absolutely nothing for. 

“I’m hungry,” you mutter, standing abruptly.

He looks up at you, something passing in his eyes, almost akin to disappointment or sadness, and you can’t bear to think about what that could mean, so you simply gesture for him to follow you. 

In silence, you walk back the way you came, using your phone’s flashlight to navigate through the thick haze of darkness. This was a mistake; you let him in for a second, gave him a glimpse into your life, and you aren’t even sure why. Was it because you could hear your mother’s voice telling you to do whatever it takes to drag the man to the altar or because, despite yourself, you actually wanted to see what going on a date with Gojo means? 

Maybe it was both. 

Or neither. 

You’re losing more and more of yourself these days, doing things you’d never thought you’d do for one reason or another, and you no longer even know what you want. Your pride or your family? A marriage with Gojo or the friendship he’s offering? Is there’s a third option.

“What’d you wanna eat?” He asks, rocking back and forth on his feet as he stares up at a streetlight. 

You’ve both made it back onto the main road, the swings a mile away. He didn’t press the topic more, simply walked beside you and pushed branches away like before. 

It’s nearing eight in the evening and your stomach growls. 

“Who said I’m eating with you?”

Gojo rolls his eyes and pokes your shoulder. With a sulky tone, he groans, “Don’t be mean. You’re hungry, I’m hungry, let’s eat. Simple!”

“Can you cook?” 

He beams, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he looks at you over them, bright eyes sparkling with what you can only guess to be mischief. You realise you really should think before you speak. 

—

That’s how you find yourself in his frat house kitchen, cloak discarded, hair up and gloves off. His frat members are out, partying, he claims, so the whole house is free. When he suggested it, you looked at him like he was insane, but he only wiggled his brows.

“You scared?” He cocked his head, grinning at you in a way that made you want to punch his teeth in. 

Narrowing your eyes at him, you responded, “No, of course not.”

Gojo bent his arms and rocked his head, making clucking noises that echoed in the empty street. Every note pierced your body, mocking and goading. You knew exactly what he was doing, and it was fucking working, the stupid bastard. Without responding to his accusation, you stomped over to his car and gave him a glare. He fetched his car keys and spun them on his finger with a victorious whistle.

“Grate this,” he orders. 

His kitchen is huge, which is understandable for the size of the house and how many people live here. Apparently, there’s three more kitchens in the damn place, not that you believe even a quarter of the guys that live here know what a cutting board is. The kitchen is surprisingly clean, however. It’s sparkling clean. 

“We have cleaners that comes in every other day,” he chuckles, noticing your looks of complete judgement whilst he boils some pasta. “But we are pretty strict on cleanliness, regardless. And everyone knows, I’m not afraid to crack the whip to keep everyone in line.”

Scoffing, you clarify, “You? Cracking whips? I find that hard to believe.”

He leans against the island you’re stationed at, the sound of water simmering filling the small space between you. Watching you grate the cheese, he hums, fingers fiddling with the lace of your sleeve. He mutters, “I know how to be serious when I need to be.”

You hum too. 

Still fiddling with the fabric, you ignore his wandering hand, fingers slipping under to roll the soft lace between his fingertips. Goosebumps rise on your skin. His touch is tentative, hesitant and gentle — one would think he’s just afraid to snag the fabric, acknowledging the craftsmanship, but one glance up at him, seeing his gaze fixated on your exposed skin more than your sleeve, you know otherwise. 

“Hands to yourself, Geralt.”

“If I’m Geralt, that must make you Yennefer,” he retorts. With a laugh, he pulls away, returning to the stove to tend to the pasta sauce. You don’t realise how much warmth he generated until you feel a sudden draught. 

The smell of frying onions and garlic is delicious and you’re becoming more and more starved by the second. He’s agile, moving swiftly and on muscle memory as he opens drawers and cabinets to gather the things he needs. 

“How often do you cook?” You ask, arm getting tired from the motion of grating the block of cheese.

Gojo shrugs and admits, “Not as often as I’d like. Weekends are for parties and pizza and all the other days, everyone’s doing their thing, studying or whatever, and eating by myself is kinda sad, so I just eat out usually.”

“How is it possible that you eat out so often but still remain so skinny?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because the next thing you know you’re being spun around and pressed into the island with a hard body. His arms are caging you in, keeping you still as he grins at you. 

He had thrown his jacket by the door when you both walked in; his biceps bulge as he flexes. They’re so much bigger now, or maybe they were always like that. And he’s pressed so close his Adam’s apple is right in front of you, bobbing when you tilt your head back so you can meet his eyes. 

“I’m plenty jacked, actually,” he brags and to add salt to the wound, he leans down, cheek brushing against yours to whisper against your ear, “wifey.”

You shove him off, snorting at his lame line. He back away with little protest. Trying to hide the heat in your face, you wash your hands, turning away from him completely. 

The rest of the hour passes by in a blink of an eye, and you finally sit down at the dining table across from each other. He’s a decent cook and you pay him a compliment even though it physically hurt to do so. 

“Do you not cook very often?” 

“I make sandwiches and ramen, that’s as far as I know how to do,” you admit with no shame.

He pours you a cup of water and asks, “Do you not have a chef to pre-make meals for you? My father insisted I have one, but I complained to my gramps about the lack of privacy and independence, and he gave up pretty quickly.”

You pause. It’s a stupid question to ask someone, from anyone else it’d drip in condescension, but you know he’s genuinely asking and it’s a valid question, just not one you’re ready to answer. So, with a careful shrug, you say simply, “I’m fine with the way things are.”

Gojo doesn’t sense the tense quiver of your voice, or if he does, he has enough tact to ignore it, so he continues the conversation. He talks to you about what being a frat president entails, and you tell him your experiences as the Treasurer. 

He also shares stories of his friends: the time ‘the gang’ snuck into the gym to put shaving cream in Toji’s locker after he had his room bubbled wrapped down to every single pair of boxers, each and every one of his friends’ drunk habits, and how he’s actually a lightweight so he sticks to beers most of the time but he hates the taste and actually much prefer cocktails. 

“Wait, wait,” you say between laughs, “you drink cosmos in secret ‘cause you don’t want your frat mates knowing their president actually hates beer?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But it isn’t my fault those things taste like wheat piss!”

You laugh harder. “They do! They totally do!”

“Has anyone ever said you have a pretty la—“

“Woah!” A voice yells out. “What’s going on here?”

You both turn to look at the wide-open door. Two men walk in, they’re in gym clothes, wide toothy grins on their faces as they stare between you and their president. You recognise them as second years, often hanging around Gojo in pictures or loitering in the Quad. 

One guy, a fake blond, wolf whistles when he sees you. “Satoru, you didn’t tell us you were having a girl over. It’s been a while; we rarely even see your bestie nowadays.”

“Yeah, this is a sight for sore eyes. This place was getting too much hotdog and not enough buns, if you know what I mean.”

When they both guffaw, you grimace. Their voices are grating, like sharp notes, and despite yourself, you cower in your seat. You hate the way they’re looking at you, in half desire and half repulsion — they’re enjoying the sight of a woman in their space, but they don’t know what to make of your attire. Usually, you don’t let people like them get to you, not their comments and not their stares. But something’s different, you’re more sensitive, less guarded. 

“Isn’t she your fiancé? We’ve heard all about her. The girls from Delta Sigma said she dresses like a witch, and well, they aren’t entirely wrong.”

“Get out.”

Three heads turn. Gojo’s standing; you hadn’t seen him move. He’s leaning on his fingertips, head hanging as he stares at his empty plate. No one says a thing. There’s no air in here anymore. Only silence, a grim, gut-wrenching silence. 

They stammer. “H-hey, man. What’s wrong?”

“Get. Out.”

“Come on, we’re just messing around,” the fake blonde chuckles nervously. 

Gojo looks up, slowly, like a creaking door. When his eyes settle on them, they stagger back with the force of his disappointment, and again with his wrath. Though you feel the tendrils of that infinite space between you, you don’t bear its impossible weight. 

With his body tense, veins bulging along his arms, broad shoulders pushed back ready for something you can’t quite grasp in this moment, you realise he really is jacked. And those muscles aren’t just for show or pressing girls against marble countertops. 

As great as it would be to be his friend, it’s even greater to not be his enemy. You didn’t realise it then, but you do now, if Gojo had ever really wanted to make someone disappear, he probably could have done so. 

“You would do well to remember that I, as descendent of the founder of Alpha Phi Delta, have a right to terminate any fraternity brother’s membership without a need for sufficient cause. Just because I’ve never exploited that clause doesn’t mean I’m above it. So, get out. Now.”

Cheeks red and heads hung low, they walk back out without sparing you another glance. 

Gojo sits back down, shoulders still tense. 

The silence hasn’t disappeared, but it has lightened, much more tolerable now. With an uncertainty in your movements, you push your knife and fork together and pat your lips dry. 

“Well, this has certainly been an eventful night,” you say. “I really ought to go, though.”

Gojo nods and takes your plate, leaving to go to the kitchen whilst you freshen up in the bathroom. 

When you come out, he’s already waiting outside with his hands tucked in his pockets, staring up at puffs of clouds he breathes into the night sky. There’s a sombre air around him, like you’re better off not disturbing him, but when he spots you from the corner of his eye, that air evaporates and he beams, literally brightens, practically shadowing the moon. 

“Hey, come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm,” he asserts with a smile. 

And he does. You get into his car for the second time of the night and watch the campus blur past you. Through the ten-minute car ride, he sings along to the pop songs on the radio, bopping his head to every beat like they’re coursing through his veins. 

“You don’t know these songs? Really?” 

He’s completely incredulous, looking at you as if you’ve grown two heads. You roll your eyes and jokingly explain you’re committed to the aesthetic. He finds that funny. The rest of the ride continues wordlessly.

“Alright, this is me,” you announce when he parks. He climbs out the car with you, leaning against his door as you shuffle awkwardly on your feet. “Despite certain parts of the time being…stiff, should we say, I had a lot of fun. Surprisingly.”

A tinge of red colours the tips of his ears. “Yeah, me too. I expected to lose my life, or at least a few limbs, at that graveyard, so I’m pretty happy with the turnout.”

You roll your eyes. “And I’m very happy I’m not covered in pig’s blood coming out of your frat house.”

“No, closest we had to that was the pasta sauce,” he chuckles. 

“Which was surprisingly delicious, by the way. You should cook more often instead of the junk food you eat.”

“Says you?” He pushes your shoulder lightly. “Miss Cup Noodles.”

“Whatever.”

The conversation dies there, laughter fading as both of you eye the doors of your dorm building. You pull your cloak tighter around you, irritated that, even though he’s just in jeans and a plain graphic tee, he’s seemingly unbothered by the temperature drop. 

“You should go in,” Gojo suggests, voice softer, barely louder than a whisper. 

You nod and make a step to go, but then a warm hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back. He’s carrying the weight of it in his palm, thumb grazing your wrist. There’s electricity thrumming where he touches and you’re about to snatch your hand away before he tightens his grip. 

“Just a second,” he mutters, before pulling out something from his pockets. Something black. 

Your gloves. 

You forgot to put them on, having left them in the kitchen. 

He’s taking his time, smoothing the material over your knuckles, ensuring your fingers are tucked in properly. His thumb lingers on the curve of each finger, exploring the slopes. Your breath hitches as his hands envelope yours completely, his touch deliberate and light and there’s no other way to describe it: it’s positively reverent. 

The glove slide snugly into place, a second skin but they feel new, as if fresh from the machine, still warm. 

You shouldn’t let him reach for your other hand, shouldn’t just watch as he unfolds the other glove, slipping it on with much more care than you yourself had ever done. His eyes are watching the fabric consume more and more of your skin, until they meet the ends of your sleeve, and no skin remains. 

“Gojo,” you breathe out. 

He shakes his head, brows furrowing. “Satoru. Call me Satoru.”

When he finally looks up, your eyes meet and your pulse quickens, quick and short breaths pulling your chest up and down. You didn’t even realise one hand is clutching his shoulder whilst the other remains in his grip. And you certainly don’t notice that you’re standing much closer than before, only a hair’s breadth from finding out whether his lips are as soft and plush as his touch. 

“You smell really nice,” he whispers, thumb running across your knuckles, like he’s willing warmth into your hand. 

You’re so close it only takes one gust of wind to push you together, to taste what a future with him could mean, to seal the first date with something that’ll keep you up at night. Just one kiss, one bad decision and everything could fade away for a second. You could pretend he’s just a boy and you’re just a girl and this is a normal date, that you have a normal relationship and tomorrow you could go back to being arranged lovers. 

His lashes flutter, so long and wispy and you’re jealous. Flickering between your eyes and your lips, you know he’s searching for any sign that you might want this just as bad as he does. You’re craning your head back, back arched to reach him, and when your chest rubs against his for a millisecond, he shuts his eyes with a groan.  

“Hey! If it isn’t Gojo,” a gruff voice bellows.

You step back, gasping for air and desperately smoothing your skirt down as you give a shaky smile to the newcomer. He’s a tall, buff man wearing shorts and carrying a basketball. He pats Gojo on the back, oblivious to the tension, to the way his friend is pouting, grumbling about how he ‘ruined the moment.’

The man looks at you with a friendly enough smile, eyeing your appearance with nothing more than curiosity before he gives you one of those manly nods. 

“Whatcha doing at my girl’s dorm?” He asks. 

Clearing his throat, Gojo answers, “Just dropping my wi—I mean, my friend off. Yeah, just stopping by.”

The guy doesn’t look ready to stop talking. So you take the initiative to excuse yourself with an awkward kiss on the white-haired boy’s cheek and you whisper, “Goodnight...Satoru.”

You don’t wait for him to reply.

Just as you’re about to enter your dorm building, you hear a distinct, “Dude, I totally cockblocked you, didn’t I? Fuck, put that thing away. You’re gonna poke my fucking eyes out!”

You smile just as your phone pings.

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[eff-plays]

Ok fine you guys twisted my arm (I say to a completely empty room) here's why I think Mass Effect 2 worked and Veilguard tried to copy it and failed.

First up is the complexity of the goal/plot. In ME2, the end goal was simple: Stop the Collectors from harvesting humans. Blast off through the Omega 4 Relay and probably die. Take down as many Collectors as possible before you die. Basically, shoot stuff until it explodes. It made sense that half of the squadmates were just "legendary badass", "legendary badass (green skin version)" and "legendary badass (huge tits version)." You need to kill dudes, so you pick people who are good at killing. There are a few who are better at tech or science, but they use tech and science to, you guessed it, kill dudes. Then you have a few who join due to aligning goals (Legion) or loyalty to Shepard (Tali, Garrus) or humanity/Cerberus (Jacob, Miranda), or they're literally getting paid to be there (Kasumi and Zaeed). But all of them have reasons to stick around, of various importance.

The specificity of the main plot is also relevant here, because everybody in the galaxy is like "oh humans are getting kidnapped? sucks to suck dude rip in piss ://" so it makes sense to recruit whoever you can get. You need help for an issue that (according to everyone who would otherwise help) only concerns you. So you're like "hey are you good at killing? and do you mind dying?" and most of those freaks go "yeah lmao whatever." They're self-selecting, because the cause is so specific and explicitly suicidal.

The suicidal thing also helps explain the loyalty missions, btw. They're not presented as "hey can you umm help? or I'm gonna be distwacted 👉👈" but as "hey man, these people are willing to die on your command, you should probably help them with their unfinished business at the very least." And yeah, the mechanic of "if you don't help they'll fucking perish" remains the same, but the framing is different. In ME2, you're basically helping a bunch of professionals to do this final thing before they die for your cause. It's both a sign of respect and of consideration for them as people, and strengthens your bond with them and their loyalty to you. The way it's framed means that you don't have to do this in order for them to do their job, but doing it helps strengthen their belief in you.

And because the stakes are relatively low (as far as everyone knows), of course the squadmates will respect and appreciate a Shepard who takes care of them more. Of course it builds loyalty. This person isn't just using you as a meat shield for their pet crusade, they're genuinely trying to do what's right and don't want you to die for nothing.

In Veilguard, you're literally told multiple times that you have to do their dumbfuck busywork or else they're gonna throw in the towel. Hey man can you do this thing? Or else I'm not saving the world :3c The stakes being SO HIGH while their issues are SO NOTHING makes most of them look really immature and incompetent, which clashes against the whole "gang of experts" thing. You're telling me this couldn't wait? I have to go into Lucanis' mind and figure out his traumas or else he won't ... hold a knife good? And that will doom the world because he's the only guy who can hold a knife? Okay???

ME2 presents everybody as professionals and experts in their field, but at the end of the day, they're just there to kill stuff. Remove one, and another will be found. The mission is (as far as everyone in power knows) not galaxy-threatening yet, so finding new guys to help would be easy. That's why Shep taking the time to solve their final issues means something and why it earns their loyalty. It shows that Shep cares about them as people.

Veilguard presents these people as experts in their fields, too. They're considered irreplacable in this conflict. And the conflict is saving the whole entire fucking world. And YET, that has to take a backseat to them figuring out what happened to a work colleague or Lucanis' grandma, because none of these experts can take a fucking chill pill to SAVE THE WORLD.

ME2 offers "low" stakes for the conflict and high stakes for the characters, so when it focuses on the characters' stories, it makes sense. You get the impression that it's character drama with a common goal that brings them all together. Veilguard offers high stakes for the plot and low stakes for the characters, but still focuses on the characters, so you get the sense that we're fucking around playing therapist while the world is on fire in the background, and it's presented as totally logical, because these guys can't save the world without a clear mind!! Despite being ... experts in their fields.

That's why, to me, Rook feels like a therapist while Shep feels like a leader.

Anyway, this is the formal end of the post but I wrote more on the specific character motivations of the Veilguard and why they don't work/feel trite to me and how that adds to Rook feeling like they're a therapist but it didn't fit with the rest of the post so under cut.

Another thing is that, while sometimes the problems of the Veilguard are technically higher stakes than the problems of the ME2 squad, there is a sense of "Hey do you actually need me for this?" And that I think is in part to the lacking motivations of the Veilguard. It's so unclear why some of them stick around that it becomes difficult to justify why they wouldn't just leave to fix their own issues.

(For example, Garrus asks us to help kill a guy. The guy isn't dangerous, he's not out there killing people or in possession of a superweapon ready to destroy a city. He's just an asshole and Garrus wants revenge. He could, technically, leave and just kill the guy himself. He knows where the guy is, so what's holding him back? Well, the job is. And Shepard is. Garrus wants Shep's help, because he doesn't trust himself to finish it on his own. He needs somebody to rely on, but he also knows that he can't just leave without Shep's permission, and that Shep needs him, too. Everything is on Shep's schedule, and there's no real time limit. His revenge can wait until Shep is ready to offer their help.

Neve is hunting an old rival who is a blood mage threatening to enslave her favorite city in all da world. It's pretty damn high stakes. But in my playthrough, Neve wasn't counting on Rook's help at all. In fact, she explicitly mentioned several times that she didn't. Yet, she still sat around and waited for their help. She didn't leave to deal with this on her own, didn't even consider it. But why not? What about Rook or this cause is keeping her there, especially since there's canonically time before the next big move and the issue is so high-stakes and pressing? People will die if she doesn't do something, yet she's sitting on her ass waiting for Rook, whose help she isn't counting on, to step up? What???)

Neve is introduced as being hired by Varric to find Solas, which she does. In the tutorial mission. She sticks around after Varric dies because ... she's in too deep now, I guess. She has to help save the world, you see. Even though all she wants is to go back to Minrathous and protect the people there. She wants your help to. Figure out some stuff. The famous big city detective needs the help of a person who's introduced as somebody who "thinks in straight lines" and whose nickname is probably a play on "rookie." She is not getting paid for this. She's doing this out of the kindness of her heart, even though most of her time on screen is spent dreaming of her favorite city in da world. She's not an expert in anything that has to do with the current plot, so she's in-fiction not really vital to keep around. Her role as a mage is made entirely pointless by the existence of Bellara and Emmrich. Supposedly her area of expertise is in blood magic ... despite hating it and not actually practicing it, on account of it being bad and evil. So she's an expert in killing blood mages, then?

Well, no. That's Lucanis. He's the resident mage killer ... who we find in an underwater prison, guarded by blood mages. I get there is a reason for why he was defeated, but the optics aren't great, ya know? We don't really free him as much as we lightly distract his guards, so he can bust out of the prison fully clothed and armored. He's suuper eager for revenge, but he's also been forcefully possessed. But that's okay, because we need his expertise for um. Killing mages. Which is what the Evanuris are. So this random possessed human guy will know better than anybody else how to kill the Evanuris. Sure. He decides to stick around on account of ... the Crows always finishing a contract. Who is paying him? Who is paying the Crows? His gam-gam ordered him to stay, she's basically offering us his services for freeing him. Guy is an indentured servant but acts like it's his choice, like it's an honor thing and not his grandma putting him in the toilet. And when it's time for him to show/offer his expertise in the field, he says "How am I supposed to fight a cloud?" which is fair enough, sure. But have you not fought mages before? Do you not have any reference for them doing weird shit at all? Do you not know how to disrupt rituals, break barriers? In the end, all he can practically do is hold the special knife and attempt to stick the pointy end into his target. Which my rogue Rook or Davrin or Taash chould've done. But gam-gam says to sit so he sits! It's not a very compelling motivation for this epic expert mage killer to just kinda. Stick around out of obligation. It could've been interesting, if he chafed against it or had to be won over, but he's just fine with it. It's treated as natural that this dude, who isn't even slightly an actual expert and is just a glorified knife holder and who isn't practically useful in any sense of the word, is still in the group. It's treated as natural that Rook has to go out of their way to help him clear his mind so he can hold the knife better next time, instead of just finding another guy to hold the knife. Maybe the spirit in him makes him stronger and more capable of fighting mages? No, the spirit is what made him miss in the first place, actually! So you have to help him figure it out or he'll miss again. DON'T ask somebody else to hold the knife though. It HAS TO BE Lucanis. Because he's the mage killer expert. Who missed. And can't handle mages.

Then we have Taash, who we need to kill the blighted dragons. They're the only dragon hunter around and have an encyclopedic knowledge of said dragons. Unfortunately the blighted state of the dragons that are actually necessary to kill are behaving in unexpected and different ways from normal dragons. They're literally manipulated by the Evanuris to be harder to kill. Making Taash's expertise moot. I didn't even have them in my party when I took on two dragons at once, and in fact the only dragons that Taash is presented as capable of killing are ones that they want us to kill. So this expert we recruit mostly introduces more dragons for us to kill that aren't actually threatening us in any way. The main time Taash has to show off their knowledge is when we use the dragon trap ... which was fashioned by Wardens. Who are all trained specifically to fight Archdemons. Who are dragons. That are blighted. Do you uh. Do you see my problem here. Taash also sticks around the Veilguard for inexplicable reasons. Mostly it seems they don't want to go home to their mother, which is fine, but this is a whole-ass adult, supposedly. They could go back to hunting dragons for the Lords, because they're written as too self-absorbed to really care about stepping up to the fight just for the sake of it. So despite them not really being useful in any way to the overall plot, we still have to help them figure out their gender identity, or else they won't be able to ... fight the blighted dragons. Which they couldn't fight. On account of the blight. Cool cool cool.

Then we have Emmrich, who is a professor and has shit to do. He is also presented as a Fade expert, while Bellara is somehow not, despite doing most of the Fade-related and artifact-related magic on-screen. Emmrich joins the Veilguard on account of um. Well we asked nicely, and he's a good guy, so he has to help save the world. Despite the fact that he's terrified of dying. Which he's far more likely to do after leaving his job. And the thing is, yeah, "the world might end so we need to stop that!" is a valid motivation, but if we accept it as the motivation of a central character whose plot we must find compelling, then why is it that it's only a few guys trying to save the world? This conflict is prestented as bigger than all the previous games combined, bigger than (the) Inquisition, which had literally entire armies and different branches and infrastructure for it's "smaller" conflict, and people were still volunteering and joining in droves, but here we're 8 guys? Are we meant to believe Emmrich's willingness to join the Veilguard is somehow unique to him, and that nobody else in the world would volunteer to join? When Harding exists, on the same team?

Speaking of, Harding is a character who can really get away with "I wanna save the world", because her joining the Inquisition is literally how she got into the plot in the first place. She's a joiner. She joins heroic causes. So her having this sort of bare-bones but noble motivation works. Same with Davrin. Bellara seems to join out of both curiosity and guilt, which are interesting enough reasons and come through visibly in her subplot and characterization, but more importantly, she doesn't have anything holding her back that might take priority until she finds out her brother is alive. Her sticking around also makes some sense because she's ya know. An elf mage Fade expert. Or sorry an elf artifacts expert.

I'm not saying "somebody's gotta do it!" or "it's the right thing to do!" aren't valid motivations, they clearly are, but there's gotta be more to it, especially when it comes to characters who have something to lose like Emmrich. My guy is terrified of death but he's such a good dude that he jumps into this life-threatening conflict without a second thought? But then gets so "distracted" by his wacky scientist former colleague that he needs our help figuring it out? Huh???

Um. I didn't have a conclussy for this part of the post so. bye

[thehorrorgirlstyles]

Brotherly Love

Eddie Munson x Stepsister!reader

Summary: You move in with your mom's new husband, only to find out that he has an annoyingly hot son.

Warnings: Swearing, derogatory words, dark themes, hate kinda sex, 18+ content, Stepbrother!Eddie, sexual themes, a little Steve Harrington x reader, cheating, rich people stuff, kinda enemies to lovers

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

"Ugh this is so stupid, why do we have to move... he should be the one to leave his house" You groan out.

"I already told you sweetie, Dean has work in his part of town.. he can't leave his job to move over here" Your mom replies as she finishes boxing up the last of the kitchen utensils.

Your mom met some guy on one of her work trips and now they're getting married. You think she's totally lost it having only known this guy for three months. Ever since your dad left with some skank a year ago, your mother has been absolutely devstated and wanting a new man. It's not because she missed your dad, but because she's afraid it will look bad to all her rich and snobby friends.

Now she's agreed to marry some guy she barely knowns to gain back the respect of her colleagues. Which is a HUGE mistake. She's totally ruining your life, making you move an hour away to live with some complete stranger who she thinks she loves! You built a life for yourself here, I mean an hour away isn't that far..you could always drive back, but still your boyfriend lives here!

"So its okay that Dean has work, but what about me?... I mean all my friends are here and what about your job too?" You saying sealing the box with tape.

"Honey its only an hour away I'm sure your friends can spend a few weekends with us.. Dean has a very huge house... Oh and I'm quitting my job" She says picking up the box and walking away.

"What the Fuck?.. What do you mean you're quitting, I mean isn't this to show that you have another husband and you're better than everyone else?.. You did this for your job.. Did you not?!" You follow after her.

"Honey, watch your language.. Steve won't want to marry someone who has a filthy mouth" She looks at you and sets the box by the front door.

"Dean has more than enough money to take care of us I won't need that job with those snobby little whores anymore" She smiles at you and walks upstairs to grab the last of the boxes.

______________________________________________

After saying your goodbyes to your friends and your boyfriend, against your will, your mom insisted that a taxi drive you to your new house, saying that she didn't want to ruin her nails..whatever that means.

"Why can't you be alone mom, do you seriously need another man ruining your life..this is like what the fourth one?" You say looking out the window of the car.

"Sweetie I'll have you know that I actually love Dean, he is everything that we need to become the perfect family.. now hush were almost there" She pats your leg, motioning for you to sit tight and be quiet. Perfect family my ass.

__________________________________________

When you arrive at your new house, it's just what you'd expect from your mom. A gated mansion with three floors. The bushes are neatly trimmed and the grass is mowed. There are fountains out front and rose vines litter the walls.

"It's a little old fashion don't you think?" You look at your mom who is bursting with excitement. You roll your eyes at her.

The door opens up and Dean comes out to greet you both. "Darling you look beatuilful...oh and Y/n lovely to see you again" He gives your mother a kiss on the check and smiles at you. You nod your head and walk into the house.

"Your welcome to pick any room on the second floor, your mother and I will be on the third..Oh and just don't go into the room by the first bathroom, that's my son's" He motions you to follow him up the stairs.

This guy has a son?! Your mom didn't tell you about this. Fucking Great!

"Some of your things have been shipped over already, but the other ones are still in processing, if you need anything there's a small shop just about a ten minute drive from here.. my driver, Ted, can take you" He says while showing you and your mom the second floor.

"Thanks." You reply, not looking at him.

"Okay, well then dear... shall we?" He takes your mother's hand and leaves you on the second floor to pick out a room.

_______________________________________

A couple hours later, you're left alone to fix up your new room. It's big, VERY big. There's a king size bed in the middle and a full size walk in closet, with a bathroom that has a tub, a FUCKING HOT TUB. While you could get use to this life-style, you miss your actual home.

It's around ten at night when you decide to call your boyfriend. "Steve, I miss you this place sucks, there's like literal fucking maids and cooks and shit, I feel like I'm living in some old timey palace and not the good kind, the one where there's a dungeon with blood splattered on the walls."

He laughs at your response, "Babe, I promise I'll see you soon and when I do, we can try out that new toy I got you."

"Oh yea.. and what exactly would you do to me with that toy" You say, moving your hands toward your panties.

"Well first, I'd get you nice and wet.. using my tongue. Then I'd stick a finger or two inside, if you could handle it." You hear him unbuckle his jeans.

"Which you can because you're my dirty girl, aren't you Y/n?" He asks.

"Yes, I'm your dirty girl" You moan out toying with your clit, as you envision him sucking on it.

"That's right baby, just for me..moan my name pretty girl" You hear him jerking himself off over the phone.

"ahh~ Steve!" You yell out, working your clit faster.

"Then, after your wet enough, I'd stick the little thing inside your hole, putting it on the highest setting..You'll be begging for me to let you cum, but I'll make you wait until I'm finshed fucking your mouth" You hear his breathing increase as he goes on.

"Please, please Steve I want it arghhh~" You finally cum, clenching down on your fingers. You hear Steve moan out your name with a finally pump as he cums.

"That's my girl"

You hung up the phone after saying goodnight and go to wash off your hands, when you see something from behind your cracked door. You stop your movements, only moving your head to look through the crack from your spot by the bed. As you try to move toward the door, the dark figure runs off. What the fuck? You open the door and look out the hall, seeing the door by the bathroom shut close. It's Dean's son.

____________________________________

The next morning you get ready and head downstairs for breakfast, when you collide with a hard figure. You look up and see a long-dark haired tattooed man with piercings. The complete opposite from Steve.

"Watch where you're going" He scoffs going to walk in the opposite direction. Who the hell does he think he is?!

"I know you were watching me" You speak up, turning toward him.

He stops in his tracks, his back facing you. "I don't know what you're talking about" He turns around and faces you, his arms crossing.

"Don't play dumb with me, you were watching me last night, when I was touching myself.." You lower your voice.

"Now I don't know how much you saw, but I have a boyfriend so don't get any ideas" You cross your arms back.

"Trust me, you're not my type princess" He laughs at you walking away.

"Excuse me I'm EVERYONES type and YOU were the one watching me!...YEAH YOU, I bet you liked it, perving on me like a freak!" You yell after him. What an asshole.

___________________________________________

For the next few days he purposely annoys the shit out of you. He used one of your nice shirts to wipe the sweat off his back after he worked out. He threw his dirty underwear in your basket of CLEAN clothes. And he bought home some chick the other day and she was so fucking loud you couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. You swear he's annoying you every chance he gets, like he's getting off on it and it's completely working, which is annoying you even more.

"Mom I cannot live here anymore, Dean's son is a child, a literal fucking child, I hate him!" You yell out.

"Shhh, lower your voice." Your mom says grabbing your arm to pull you outside, just when Dean walks in.

"I heard what you said and I'm sorry that Eddie hasn't been the most welcoming..I will talk to him" He apologies and walks away.

Your mom shakes her head, "Please Y/n do not ruin this for me..for us" She lets you go and follows after Dean.

So that little shits name is Eddie, you think to yourself.

___________________________________________________

A few weeks go by and both you and Eddie have been messing with each other. You hate him and he hates you, which isn't ideal for your mother's "Perfect family", but you cannot stand the guy, even if you tried.

Steve, however, is finally able to come over this weekend and you need to make sure that Eddie won't do or say anything to ruin it.

You knock on his door, but he doesn't answer...so you walk in anyways. You're going to tell this idiot to stay away whether he chooses to listen or not.

When you walk in, you find Eddie with his back turn to the door. He must've just gotten out the shower because he is completely naked, except for the towel around his waist. He shakes his hair out and you continue to stare in silence. His back is dripping water and you wonder if he has ever looked this good.

He finally turns around and spots you. He notices the way you're staring and the bastard smirks at you.

"Enjoying the show princess?" he chuckles.

"Wha-What No, I-I was just.." Fuck, why did you come here again?

He walks closer to you and you take a step back. Your back hits the door as he closes in on you.

"What were you saying?" he grabs your face, your lips inches apart.

"I hate you!" You blurt out.

He smiles at you, "I hate you too." he closes the gap and forcefully kisses you. You gasp, what the fuck, why is this dickhead kissing you?! Still, you lean into the kiss anyways, kissing back harder.

He picks you up without breaking the kiss, his towel dropping at the movement. You feel his cock growing as it touches your ass over your jeans and you can tell that he is big, bigger than you've had. He sits you down on his bed, starting to unbutton your jeans. When he finally pulls your jeans off, he starts to feel up your body, with his hands, reaching down to where you need him the most.

You stop his movements and break the kiss, "Wait, I'm... this is wrong" You say trying to catch your breath.

"If this is so wrong, then why are you so wet for me?" He asks, touching you over your panties as he starts to move his hands in a circular motion.

You moan his name. God, was he always this hot?

"B-But you're my stepbrother and we both are taken" You try to reason, but it comes out as a breathy moan.

He smirks at you, "You jealous of what you heard the other night?.. had to get you back for all your late night calls" He confesses.

"Wha- But you have been watching me, you asshole" You slap him and he laughs in response.

"Your whines are too pretty for me to just ignore" He says, starting to kiss around your neck. "Beside with how loud you were being I'm pretty sure you wanted me to watch".

"Eddie I-"

"Shhh, let me take my time playing with your pretty cunt"

You lay back on his bed, spreading your legs open for him. This is so wrong on so many levels, but it feels too good to stop. You think you'll just get off from him just this one time, you won't even let him fuck you... Who are you kidding, you want him to fuck you.

"This doesn't change anything, I still hate you." you speak in labored breaths as he laps your pussy with his tongue.

He pulls your thighs closer to him in response, making you gasp as he speeds up his motions.

"Fuckkk Eddie, your gonna make me cum~" You moan out clenching your thighs together. He stops you, pushing his hands against your legs.

"Keep them open!" He growls out. You smirk and defy him on purpose, squishing his head between your thighs.

"Or what?" you ask.

He pulls away from you quickly and in one quick motion he flips you over, making you gasp in shock. He pushes your face down into the sheets, keeping your ass in the air. You hear him move behind you, his hand on your neck, keeping you from getting away.

"Or I'll stick it in your tight little ass and no matter how much you scream for me to stop, I won't until I cum inside you." You feel him rub his dick along your hole., you clench in response. Fuck why was this making you so turn on. Your never done anal before, telling Steve that you rather not experience that pain, but fuck it you want to experience it with Eddie.

"You like the way I speak to you baby.. like your a slut, my toy to play with?" He slaps your ass, making you jolt forward.

"Yes Eddieee please~" You whine out.

"Please what?"

"Fucking fuck me already Eddie" You whine, pushing your ass back against him.

He grabs your hips and aligns his cock with your soaking hole.. when a knock sounds on the door.

You both freeze and you turn around to look at him. He meets your eyes silently telling you to be quiet.

"Yeah!" He yells out, his hand still on your hip.

"Hey Eddie Y/n's boyfriend is here, so be nice to him and to Y/n" His dad speaks from the other side of the door.

"Oh also, Have you seen Y/n by chance, she wasn't in her room?" he continues.

"Nope, haven't seen her" Eddie lies.

"Alright well let me know if you do son, her boyfriend was so excited to see her and looks like she isn't even here". Dean laughs and you hear him finally walk away from Eddie's door.

"Fuck" You move out of Eddie's grasp and pick up your clothes from the floor, starting to put them back on.

"So your boyfriends here?" Eddie asks you.

"Looks like it" You say, finishing putting your pants on.

You turn and look towards Eddie, not knowing what to say. You were literally seconds away from fucking him and now your boyfriend is here. This should have never happened with Eddie, but God did you want it to so badly, you can tell by the wet spot forming in your underwear.

"Well sneak out tonight when he's sleeping and we can continue where we left off princess" He says, putting his clothes on.

"Are you serious?" You ask him in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know you want me, figured I'd make your wishes come true." He looks at you with a dumb smile.

"Fuck you"

"I will tonight" He smirks at you.

You roll your eyes and leave his room, slamming the door shut.

You seriously hate the guy, but oh were you so going to meet him after Steve falls asleep.

[mavcancees]

Shadoune about Dream's video, and Feinberg's discord messages:

So, what happened? Dream invited us to make a video. There's a screenshot from Sapnap with everyone who was there, we were like 20, and Feinberg was there. I wasn't really surprised to see him there, he's a competitive player from the english community, it made sense. Now, thinking back, Feinberg is friends with Couriway, and Couriway and Sapnap have a huge beef and hate each other, so yeah when you think about it it's a bit surprising he was there. But in the moment I thought it was fine, it made sense, it's someone I know so it's cool, I respect him a lot, he's a very good player.

But yeah, Feinberg played in the event all fine. And then after the event his messages leaked on Twitter. [reads the screenshot to chat]. He's apologizing like "Oh 🥺 My community, I am so sorry 🥺 I will never do this again 🥺 You're right". It's odd. In the hispanic community there are cancelled people, but it's whatever. Imagine I got cancelled for playing with Cris[green] because he got cancelled. You'd think if someone got cancelled, you'd send hate to the person that is getting cancelled, not people that happen to be playing with them. But that's how the english community works, and it's shit, and I'm very glad to be in the hispanic community. Things are much easier and much more fun here. Nobody is making 34 Twitter threads about me for saying something wrong on accident.

And I like Feinberg, but he fucked up. He fucked up hard. Because he was just making a video with the Dream Team, which is a great opportunity, and then his fans started attacking him. And then he responded, thinking nobody was going to find out, but that didn't happen, and now it's all over Twitter. And honestly? I don't think Feinberg actually cares. I don't think he cares the Dream Team is cancelled, I think he just wants to compete, and that's it. But he was to look good to his fans, to him that's more important, and english ccs can't just tell their communities to fuck off. That's my theory.

It's complicated. That's their culture, it's different than ours, there's not much to do. As for me, I am lucky I can play with whoever I want :)

[lapdogchase]

fascinated and distressed by chase's disordered relationship with sexuality + his emotions abt his own trauma & abuse

thru the beginning of the show he doesn't even realize he's hot despite being objectively attractive. when he finds out he's hot he then realizes people pretend to be interested in him as a person in order to have sex with him and gets super upset about it

he starts having a bunch of meaningless sex as a coping mechanism when cameron leaves him. and also a lot of other times. whenever something bad happens, basically, he starts going out with a bunch of women, just to feel something, presumably

^to the extent where hes known within the hospital as a slut. and has had sex with an insane amount of nurses. as well as presumably women who are not at his place of work.

he says doing this made him hate himself so he stopped. it's the b-plot for an episode and then he's back having meaningless sex again by the end of the episode

even his coworkers know this about him. and have called it out, masters even says she thinks he doesn't respect women bc, in her words, he's with a different one every few days or maybe he finds comfort in meaningless relationships

goes back to having meaningless sex within weeks of getting stabbed. which is really bad for wound healing reasons too. genuinely it seems like such compulsive behavior for him considering he keeps doing it even when its objectively not only a bad idea but actively dangerous

house even directly says he's "a serial slut" because he's "terrified of intimacy." incredibly accurate assessment

his relationship with his sexuality reads so heavily as someone who thinks they're not good for anything else

see also: dissociation & avoidance

we know he has a lot of trauma especially in childhood- he never really gets into it let alone into how he Feels about it but what we know is already bad & that's just the stuff he's okay with sharing with his coworkers or patients

in general he's very avoidant of his own trauma- when he gets stabbed he says he "can't change what happened, can only make better choices from here" as if it was his own fault, and refuses thru the whole episode to acknowledge that being traumatized by this would be a really normal reaction that he is definitely having. instead he just blames himself

also, he dissociates from traumatic things that happen to him - says "there was a stabbing" rather than "i was stabbed" for instance

when he's talking abt his childhood trauma he does it in a very similar way - he talks about it very bluntly and doesn't ever get into how he actually feels about it.

see also: dr. fawn response

general passive willingness to go along with anything- when cameron says they should have sex in s3 he's surprised and then he just kinda goes along with it. not bc he didn't want to bc he obviously did, but he's just generally very much someone who does whatever other people want him to do. i feel like he and cameron both tend to seek validation thru sex in an unhealthy way that i'm still gnawing on like a dog with a bone i have to go rewatch s3 to really articulate it though

he has a sort of desperation for praise and approval especially from anyone he views as an authority figure. he does whatever authority figures tell him out of this idea that it'll bring him approval and therefore safety

like no matter what house does or says to him he doesn't argue or retaliate or anything. even when house punches him he collapses on the ground in pain and then just keeps talking about the patient like nothing happened.

the scene in 3.10 after house punches him where he's in the ddx room and house walks in and throws the file at him and chase is startled and tries to pretend he's not. and he looks up with this huge fuck ass bruise on his jaw swallows heavily and pretends not to be upset. and house asks if he got that looked at as if he wasn't the one to give it to him and chase just swallows and says he's fine. dr fawn response :(

[pigidin]

OKAY. Am I the only one fascinated by how much Alastor in s1 has interacted with other demons and built a potential for considerable amount of different, broad and unique relationships? With All of them being non-romantic/sexual?

I really don't wanna dive into the discourse of shipping coz honestly, I do think that erasing Al's aroaceness is not cool at all. Personally, I don't see him wishing any romance/sex at all, and well. Considering how platonic he actually is throughout the season, it kinda seems like people forget that friendship (or basically anything non rom-sex) exists in the first place.

Coz, like, let's see what we got::

Vox -- probably one-sided (psychosexual) crush from Vox with possible past friendship between them, them hating on each other yet having (used to have) some respect as well. The ANGST, the drama (for both of sides). Insert aroace troubles (possible aphobia from Vox? Or not? He may be biggest ally as well!) and Vox's petty feelings that are insanely interesting to explore (and laugh at).

Lucifer -- immediate hate that (with a course of events) can turn into forced bonding. The potential of queerplatonic parenting of Charlie is HUGE here. Insecurities from Al? Forced care? Banters? SHENANIGANS? Luci patching up Al after battle, prolly discovering his deal and them slowly bonding on shared interests? Hey.

Rosie -- literal established queerplatonic partners, married for tax benefits, spending their evenings gossiping, hating on Susan and Al rolling his eyes on another romance-rel drama Rosie was trying to help sb with. Rosie can have insane influence on him whether it is understanding modern things or just being with him when he needs it. It also gives off mom/son to me.

Husk -- fucked up master-pet not-friendship with probable care rooted since they were closer in past. Is it toxic? Yes. Is it giving off some problematic dynamic? Sure. Yet it's fucking complex on its core considering pilot, bits and pieces of their interaction and how easily Husk used to insult Al until he overstepped. Them two are quite similar if you think about it and if Al got over his ego it could benefit him a lot.

Niffty -- daugther/father dynamic with them sharing one sadistic-psycho braincell and genuinely enjoying each other's quirks. Protective Al? I just need more Niff and them two being partners in the most outrageous crimes.

Mimzy -- friendship going since they were humans, with them having an amazing (potential) backstory of sharing evenings on two. Al enjoying her company as well as being protective and helpful to her with nothing in return.

Charlie -- manipulated into trusting you as a dad figure? Don't tell me there is nothing below Al's creepy plans or that he wouldn't grow to care for her. He already is proud of her and finds amusement in her inspiration-skills (also, performance is his thing for a reason)

Angel -- I was honestly kinda upset we didn't see any interactions between them except one sex joke, coz my past era of Hunicasts was a fuel to their duo. Them bonding over how different they are is the best description of their dynamic. Also banters and body-puns.

You can't just erase Alastor from interacting with people, but putting him inside boxes of allonormative relationships while he has such a fucking huge potential for everything beyond just that - is quite.. disappointing. People turning a blind eye to a wide variety of relationships he can have (potential to which is set in canon) for the sake of just romance/sex is low key sad.

It's AWESOME to see ppl actually understanding it and.. damn THANKS to everyone who explores Al's relationship with others without it involving final wish to stick tongues into places. Dynamics can be interesting and exciting without it.

I really don't wanna project my romance-aversion onto Al, but when romance and sex is one thing you see everywhere.. it's hard to just let it slip.

You are allowed to do whatever you want, exploring physical intimacy is fun as well, and having Al, well, there are bunch of ways to show it with respecting his orientation and the fact that IT AFFECTS RELATIONSHIPS/ATTRACTIONS but please just don't make it the center of your attention, the one thing relationship revolves around, coz sadly it's just exactly how it looks like from some folks.

[erumai-maadu]

genin era team gai

assuming this is the reply to the previous ask about if i have headcanons, hell yeah I do!

Tenten also really Did Not like Neji when he was in his ‘fate is immutable everything sucks i’m a genius but i’m a caged bird’ era but put up with him because he was the only other one to train with when Lee and Gai were having their training together

Speaking of which, I hate when people say Gai ignored Tenten and Neji in favor of Lee because we se SO MANY scenes where Gai has the whole team training together. This is less of a headcanon but Gai knows his primary skill set is in general taijutsu techniques, so he makes all of his students drill those until they’re second nature, and then leaves Neji and Tenten to learn their respective specialties on their own with a bit of input or advice from him. Neji’s specialized Hyuuga techniques or Tenten’s weapon mastery aren’t something he has direct knowledge on, but his taijutsu mastery does allow him to be able to give them help in whatever small ways he can. he has an easier time with Lee who directly learns all of Gai’s techniques, but he does not neglect his other students’ training when he’s helping Lee.

Tenten is the first one to learn about Neji’s blind spot, through pure accident. I’ve spoken about this in a previous post but Tenten is very exacting and has a good eye for detail. She canonically loves being a “detective” of sorts, figuring things out and cracking puzzles. I think she starts noticing patterns as Neji dodges her weapon barrages; there are certain spots where he always gets nicked because he dodges late, almost as if he can’t see them in time to get out of the way. She manages to figure out he has some kind of blind spot, and knowing how blunt she is, she probably just goes right up to him and asks.

Tenten figuring out his blind spot is probably what gets Neji to open up to her about his seal, and asking her to help him train his Rotation. He knows she managed to figure out one clan secret already, and she’s been fairly helpful so far in his training, he supposes knowing one more won’t really make a huge difference

Tenten is a great secret keeper. Unless Lee is the one asking. Something about his face and her bond with him just has her spilling every secret to him whether she intended to or not

Lee started training with Gai while he was still in the Academy. They definitely wouldn’t have let him graduate if his none of his skills were good, so I think at a certain point, Gai took notice of him as an Academy student and started helping him. Lee just suddenly started getting Really Fucking Good at taijutsu and all the other Academy kids were like “what the hell” when they realized they’re suddenly losing to the class’ former dead-last

These three could not work together for shit when they first started out. Gai literally had them taking out extra D-ranks on purpose during their first year as genin simply because they couldn’t stop fighting long enough to work together effectively. Their bond that they built is due to several long LONG hours of running punishment laps for fighting.

All of them see Gai as a father figure. Of course we all know this about them but still. for Tenten, Gai is the first major male role model in her life, of course he very quickly becomes a father figure to her. For Lee, Gai is everything he wants to live up to, and they look so alike that of course Lee sees him like a father. With Neji, it’s a bit more complicated, but after losing his father, he hasn’t really had many other good familial relationships within his clan. It’s probably almost comforting to him how different Gai is from Hiashi and the Hyuuga Elders. I think he ends up confiding in Gai a lot and relying on him emotionally.

I’ve written a snippet of this too but Tenten is the first one to kill someone on a mission and Gai helps her through it. She gets through it the quickest of the three as well, but it does fuck her up for a bit because of how soon it is.

it became a tradition that whoever won the three-way sparring match that day to pick what they get for lunch. the winner also gets their food paid for. the longer this goes on the more frequent the visits to spicy curry shops get.

[butwhatifidothis]

I guess the ultimate thing that kills CF for me - or at least nudges it away from me saying I definitively like it - is just how much Edelgard is clearly written with the player in mind before she's written with her character in mind.

Because on all of the other routes, there's a power to Edelgard's presence. Even on BE, there's a sense that for as lonely as Edelgard might be, she still ultimately will do whatever it takes for her to get what she wants. Be that be killing her citizens (or otherwise letting them be killed), endangering her friends, assisting in kidnapping people, allowing Byleth to support her only when they have the Sword of the Creator, covering for TWS - no bar is too low for her to limbo under if doing so means she's even a step closer to her goals.

She's manipulative! She's deceitful! She doesn't care for the lives of her people! Even her friends are forfeit if they try to stand in her way! And this happens no matter how close you, the player, get to her, in the case of BE - C+ ain't stoppin' Remire, and going to the coronation ain't stopping the Holy Tomb.

And in the war phase, she is dominating the field. She has the Kingdom completely on the ropes, down to a few houses standing against Imperial rule, and the Alliance is stuck in neutrality - she may not be able to do much to it, but neither can they do anything to her (to say nothing of the Alliance houses who stand with her). She's far from the underdog in this race, and she shows off how threatening she can be.

CF? Her route?

She scweams at scawy rats. She gets embawwassed when you find her dwawings. She's just so wonewy, and she's just so gwad that you chose her. She somehow fails to capture Rhea, or frame Dimitri for regicide, and so now has to deal with that on the Kingdom's side of the war. But that doesn't stop Elly Welly-kins fwom twying to find her pwecious teacher, because you're just so important to her. She cwies and hugs you when you meet her in the Goddess Tower!! Because she missed you so much!!

It's like... Dimitri and Claude certainly show different sides of themselves on their respective routes. It's the whole point! You grow closer to them and thus see how they treat those close to them, as opposed to being the Kinda Neat Teacher they see run along every now and then. But, like... Claude doesn't become a blushing maiden whenever Byleth speaks with him on VW. Dimitri doesn't scream at scary rats and get called cute for it on AM. They don't get Basic Bitch Gap Moe Traits slapped onto them that are only ever shown to the player and only on their routes. Unlike Edelgard.

Dimitri's endearing trait is that he's this big huge dude who can bench-press forests and arm-wrestle god who still wants to learn to sew and who teaches kids to protect themselves and who buys candies for his friends. Claude's endearing trait is that he's this mastermind planner who has contingency and lie and obfuscation as three separate legal government names who still wants everyone to be safe and happy and hold hands and be friends.

Edelgard is strong, confident, and willing to do some of the shittiest things known to man for her goals. Her endearing trait is that her screams are cute. She's shy about her drawings of the player character. She blushes over the player potentially joking about having sex with her per her JPN version of her C support; you know, the one about how Byleth walks in on Edelgard muttering in her sleep from a nightmare about her tortured family? Perfect time to joke about fucking her! Dimitri and Claude's endearments are, well, endearing; Edelgard's are all straight up embarrassing for her.

Hell, even the smaller stuff is affected! Claude's passion for poisons and mushrooms are things he has no qualms about having others know about, despite how weird they are. Dimitri laughing at shitty jokes brings him no personal discomfort or embarrassment, despite just how loudly he laughs at them. They have traits to them that can easily be uwu worthy, and they don't care! Of the lords, only Edelgard does! Because, it feels like, the only way for a strong, resolute female character to come off as approachable is if she's knocked down a few pegs for specifically and only you, the player.

And that sucks ass! I'm sorry, but when I'm playing Edelgard's route I don't want to deal with her hiding herself away in her room for a month IN THE MIDDLE OF HER FUCKING WAR because she's just so embawwassed! It is so fucking insensitive that Edelgard is literally the only lord of the three who can have her trauma openly belittled at any point in the story by Byleth, all to have some cheap cutesy uwu moment about her fear of rats (calling her screaming in fear cute and INSISTING that it's really cute which is just. Fucking ew man)! Why can we fucking mock Edelgard's manner of speech during the MASSACRE OF REMIRE?

This shit doesn't happen to Claude or Dimitri! And saying "oh just don't pick those options then" is bullshit because no equivalent options exist for the male lords! It's piss-boilingly annoying that the second you choose to see things from the strong confident villainous ambitious female lord's perspective you can reduce her down to this bumbling moeblob just for you (sometimes unavoidably!) like!! Dude!

[dickgraysonsptsd]

Do you know what's up with all the fanart and fics and stuff that show Jason super close and Brotherly with Damian/Tim/Cass/Steph? Because not to be a Dick Grayson biased guy, but it really does seem like some backwards level misogyny taking people who have complex and important relationships with dick (especially Damian??????????) And being like nahhhhhh Dicks just the fun older bro lol he can't and doesn't have complex relationships with these guys but Jason who lower class and was tragically murdered does :D the Jason and Tim stuff Especially because Tim fucking hates Jason in canon and yet every 4th batman related fanart that pops up is them being closer than close brothers and Dick just a background character. I do understand people have biases and fave characters, but at this point, it seems people are doing this just to push dick out the way or undermine his importance, literally backwards misogyny fridging dick (and Barbara and steph) so Jason and cass get to play house and have that hug they absolutely had in canon

so i think a lot of this comes from what i understand to be a huge influx of new fans to batfandom during the pandemic, most of whom were primarily interested in fanon depictions of the characters. they got into the bats through fanfic or wfa or tiktoks or whatever and while some people then got into comics, tv shows, etc from there, plenty stayed in the "fanon universe" corner of fandom.

jason is especially popular among these types of fans, which led to them making more fanworks of him that got more new fans interested in him, and so on. this is is fine! i'm glad people have their biases and their faves because i certainly do too, we need lots of people with different faves for a diverse ecosystem!

unfortunately a lot of the things they say they like about red hood jason (good big brother, protective of and respectful towards survivors and sex workers, caring, compassionate, engages with his community, wants to improve his city, fights openly with bruce but is capable of reconciling with him, etc) are literally just dick's traits given to jason for the sake of softening jason's very abrasive and antagonistic post-crisis character (and anything set in/around utrh is necessarily based in post-crisis!). even jason's relationships that they say they like, such as his n52+ friendships with roy or kory, are... dick's. and fans of roy or kory generally hate how they're portrayed in relation to jason because their characters have to be warped to force them into relationships with him.

and now that these fanon-focused fans have built a version of jason that they love which happens to overlap heavily with dick, they have to do something else with dick. which is usually, as you pointed out, assigning him a shallow personality or pushing him into the background of fanworks in some way. he has to be mindlessly supportive of daddy bruce, cheerful, ditzy, a crybaby, etc to simplify him out of his normal central role in the lives of characters like tim, damian, bruce, etc (it's interesting that he's often loaded with stereotypically Annoying Feminine Traits in comparison to jason being made a "strong but soft" masculine man... hm...).

the only mainstream comics canon that i'm aware of with meaningful basis for any other bats being closer to jason than to dick is n52, which has a really funny full page spread of tim going "wow.. i've never had a brother before... not like jason my beloved... <333" while laying next to jason on the ground. otherwise this whole "jason is the real big brother who all the bats love" thing is pure fanon.

now like. as to motivation for this. i think the vast majority of jason fans don't hate dick and don't have any ill intent towards his character or his fans. i feel you because as a dick obsessive i also get frustrated with all of this, but i seriously don't think most people who do this have any intent beyond having fun with their toys. and i don't think the fanon jason fans are really thinking about canon dick or jason to begin with for the most part--they're essentially playing with dolls shaped like the bat characters. and they're having fun with it so.... good for them *said through clenched teeth*

basically i think it all comes from a pretty harmless place but it's annoying as fuck and FEELS targeted lmao.

now, not speaking as a dick grayson superfan anymore--the shit that steph and cass get in particular to bend them into people who would looooove jason and embrace him as part of the batfamily is ABSURD. i can't imagine being a cass superfan in this society. as if CASSANDRA CAIN would give jason a hug and go "big brother <3" when jason has repeatedly desecrated the batsymbol (which is how cass would see it, as desecration!!!). jason had the option to not kill and he chose to kill because he wanted to. cass would beat his ass.

i am especiallyyyy peeved when i see "steph and jason would be besties because they're both from poor families :D" takes because like. first of all, weird to reduce them to "the poor robins." and very weird to try for a "both of their dads were villains/henchmen" angle too because red hood jason has killed plenty of criminals who left kids just like steph behind. second, steph would not tolerate post-crisis jason. jason tormented tim and then--EDIT: GANG I MISREMEMBERED THIS jason is not the one who shot damian in the spine. however i still firmly believe steph would beat his ass.

(i do personally think an element of misogyny/homophobia is involved in how readily people will strip dick of his personality and relationships and give them to the more traditionally masculine jason, who has no "questionable" relationships with men and whose relationship with bruce is "pure" and straightforwardly familial, but i don't have the spoons to put that into words rn. but i feel you. but it's also a complicated thing to talk about without sounding like i'm talking over misogyny towards actual female characters. you know)

[feroluce]

NO OK BUT I'M STILL NOT OVER BOOTHILL AND DAN HENG AND THE JADE ABACUS IN ENA'S DREAM!!!!!

For some extra context, I have a whole henghill manifesto I wrote over here, but the tl;dr is that Dan Heng decides to use the Jade Abacus of Allying Oath to save the Express Crew the first time. Boothill urges him to think it over carefully, but he doesn't stop him. And then, the second time Dan Heng decides to use it, we get this instead:

And just! That's so!! so!!!

Because like. We see in the first battle against Sunday that that Jade Abacus is effective, like we really do just get an entire army lead by a whole-ass Emanator of The Hunt right to our location and ready to fuck shit up. It's important. It's incredibly valuable. That is a huge amount of power to hold in the palm of one's hand.

But Tiernan's relic works the same way.

Galaxy Rangers are terribly dangerous. Boothill comments on this when discussing Acheron's motives, because he can't believe anyone would be stupid enough to get The Hunt on their asses. They're considered to be on a level even above The Annihilation Gang.

And now, with the burial relic, he has a way to get thousands of them, almost immediately, and all in one place.

And you can't tell me that wouldn't be something extremely useful to Boothill, like literally life-saving. He's wanted by the IPC. He makes his living as a bounty hunter. His whole driving motivation in life right now is to do whatever he can, up to and including throwing away his own human body, to ruthlessly hunt down one man and kill him in revenge. Like that has to be dangerous, the IPC is a massive entity with far-reaching influence and money and power and weaponry. He surely must have already had some close calls.

Like can you imagine it? Galaxy Rangers are solitary creatures. If Boothill were to find himself near death, he would probably be all alone. Do you think he had regrets? Did he wonder if anyone would find his own burial relic? Did it feel the same way it did when they melted his flesh, replaced it with metal? Did he lay there with his vision slowly blacking out until he thought of home, and family, and the little daughter who he never even got to hear her first word, until he was so full of fury that he could prop himself up on his rage like a crutch and find help?

Tiernan's relic would have been like a get-out-of-jail-free card. Just for one time, no matter where Boothill was, someone would find him. The Galaxy Rangers aren't sociable or organized between themselves, but they help their own. Someone would save him.

He chooses to give all of that up to help Dan Heng.

And I just cannot get over it, especially the wording of it, the pause before he speaks, the gentle way he tells him to hold onto his once-in-a-lifetime treasure...!! He wants Dan Heng to leave this to him! He wants him to keep this precious item that will help him save his companions again in the future! And maybe it's just...wishful thinking, me reading too much into it? But I mean. Just the way he says it...

I really do think it comes from a place of deep kinship and respect. That there's a lot of thought and feeling behind that statement. Something from one Pathstrider of The Hunt to another. Boothill fought for his home and his family, he fought really really hard! But. Sometimes that just doesn't matter. And now he's watching Dan Heng fight for his, too.

When he made that decision the first time, Dan Heng was in the parlor car of the Astral Express. He was completely removed from any danger. He could have chosen to get the hell out of Dodge and not look back. Obviously we know he would never even consider such a thing, but it was technically an option, and Boothill watched him decide to go back into the proverbial lion's den for his friends anyway. And I'm sure that was part of what sealed his decision, to later use Tiernan's relic instead of the Jade Abacus to summon enough people to disrupt Ena's Dream. Because he greatly values ideas like righteousness and justice and saving people, and Dan Heng so beautifully embodies all of that and then some.

Boothill doesn't have people to protect anymore, only ghosts to avenge.

And there is just something so endlessly endearing about him wanting to help Dan Heng, to make sure his friend doesn't go through that the way he did.

[drdemonprince]

hey! i have a question abt your cruising guide if you don't mind, regarding something that (unless i totally missed sth, in which case i'm very sorry for wasting your time) i felt was completely absent but happens to be my main concern. (i'm already a huge slut, so anonymous/short term sexual encounters in themselves aren't the issue for me.) i'll put it bluntly: how am i supposed to pick anyone up in a gay male cruising space (irl/not on an app) when i look like a woman? i'm not a total stranger to gay bars, which is why i'm very sure that people in a cruising space are far, far more likely to take me as an intruder looking to be pleasantly scandalized than someone like them who they might want to have sex with, not to mention have sex with as a man(-adjacent). i also know it's likely that i'm projecting at least some of my dysphoria onto these hypothetical encounters, but it doesn't seem like an unjustified fear, either. i (fwiw: perisex, afab, some type of agender-nonbinary) have been on t for abt 9 months now, but i haven't had top or bottom surgery (i want both but so far it's unclear when that is going to happen) and my breasts are too large to be really concealed by a binder (not to mention that i can't fuck in a binder bc they give me awful headaches), i'm very short and ~curvy~, i have very little body/no facial hair, and people in casual daily interactions certainly don't hesitate to address me as a woman. it just seems preposterous to assume that there's anything abt me a man looking for another man could be attracted to. i guess it's possible someone could be a chaser after my specific type, but that's not an encounter i want to have right now. as far as my question to you is concerned, i want to have sex with a man who is into men, and at the very least won't see me as a girl wanting to be fucked like a man. i know that there is no way to objectively predict these things, experiences and tastes vary and so on, but i would be extremely grateful if you could share some of your experiences or give me some other pointers for how to approach this/what to expect. as it is, if i were to enter a darkroom, i assume i would be asked to leave, but preemptively telling myself that it's hopeless and to forget abt it for at least the next several years seems unnecessarily cruel, too. if there's any advice or experience you can share, thank you so so so much, and if not, thank you anyway for taking the time to read this letter of woe and for putting your perspective out there, it's been a balm to be understood. wishing you all the best x

Buddy -- it is (largely!) your dysphoria talking! Lots of queer men will wanna fuck you and they will wanna do it in a queer way. I walked around Steamworks fully tiddy out regularly and I had a great time.

It's true that in more general gay bars people will sometimes misread you, and that it will hurt, but trust me that lots of queer men are already attracted to you. If anything, I've noticed that in general queer spaces cis gay men sometimes default to assuming that you won't be interested in them and give a polite distance that they will happily do away with if they know you're looking and welcome their attention. A lot of guys don't want to accidentally be predatory to someone who they think might be a lesbian or not interested in men. (Again, being mistaken for something you are not really fucking sucks and can drive your dysphoria crazy, I get it, but do keep in mind that sometimes people do this out of a desire to be respectful, not because they're turned off that you're such a Womanly Woman or whatever.)

My first recommendation for you would be to GET ON GRINDR. Post some pics that make it clear what you're working with, physically, and list your identity clearly on your profile. When I first got a grindr I had a really slutty abs-and-underboob pic that got me a TON of attention from queer men, who treated me like a man, and it immediately assuaged all my concerns that I wasn't welcome on there. I think it will do a lot for your self-confidence and sense of belonging to try the same too.

Now, I don't want to be pollyannaish about any of this -- yes there are transphobes. In my experience they're mostly pretty quiet to trans men, they'll just pass you by for the most part. Yes there are people who will say awkward things. Block liberally and often and don't be afraid to stand up for yourself. But honestly, these are the kinds of issues you will run into within any dating platform, and the gay world is pretty damn blase and chill about the inclusion of trans men for the most part. You can absolutely put yourself out there -- and the sooner you do, the sooner you'll realize that your insecurities are not rooted in the reality of how other queer men mostly feel.

I wish I had put myself out there YEARS earlier! A lot would have changed for me if I had.

[kvothe-kingkiller]

I'm not the best writer when it comes to writing convincing essays or whatever, but I'm going to give this a go because it's something that I've thought for a long time that I've never seen anyone really acknowledge unless I bring it up first. (also I am sick and don't really want to do much editing here, just rambles, so good luck)

I think that when most (not all, but most) people get salty about 'modern art', they are not salty about the things people think they are salty about. When they say "this isn't art", theres an important bit that they're not articulating. What I think most of them mean is "this isn't art that should be in a museum." "this isn't art that should cost this much" "this isn't art that should be getting this kind of recognition". And there is a huge difference between that and just saying "this isn't art"

Firstly, all of the arguments about why modern art is in fact art straight up....don't apply. They don't address the problem, they don't answer the question. This isn't really anyone's fault per se, given that it is addressing the literal statement, it's just I think most people aren't actually thinking that literal statement.

So then what do they really mean? Like I said, I think they're trying to articulate why they're frustrated that this art is in a museum when "they could do it". So when you say "okay then, you do it" that doesn't address the core issue, which is "but why is this getting recognition for it, and I would get none" because yes, unless they are famous, they would get Zero recognition for it. Nobody would be lining up to buy their art, no one would ask to put it in a museum. Best place they can hope to have this displayed is a fridge door.

When you look at a piece of fine art, most can see the amount of effort put into it. They see how much training it took to get there, they see how much time it took to put those strokes on that canvas and they can go "yeah, that took skill, that took effort, not everyone can do that. it deserves recognition". And a lot of modern art does take skill, it's just skill that isn't easily noticeable to the average viewer, such as rothko's color fields, they do take a lot of skill and effort, you just can't see it if you don't know. But a lot of modern art that people complain about isn't something that has skill that's not recognized, it just requires very little technical skill at all (not a condemnation, btw).

When you're talking about something 'anyone can do' that piece's value is often not a recognition of skill, or even of the message, it's a recognition of a name. It's similar to having a gucci bag because it's a gucci bag, not because you care remotely about the bag. Yes, art isn't displayed because of how much effort went into it, but it's a huge industry that many many people are making money through from sheer name recognition alone.

Like that one painting of that one artist's (I forget which artist and my cursory google isnt finding it, but also its just an example) where it got replicated and sold to a bunch of people for a large amount of money so they could all have something that had a small chance of being a genuine painting by the artist, that's an excellent example of the fact that a lot of the gallery-level art world is Entirely about the name, not about the piece itself. If someone just made that painting but didn't say it could be from the artist, then who cares?

If you go to ringo starr's art website (https://www.ringostarrart.com/) then you can see that some of his work, especially his older work, is of that category of stuff that many people would say "I could do that" to. For instance, these two? 1,400 and 6,000 pounds respectively for a PRINT of these from his website

....okay this one I kinda enjoy.

but still. 2,000 pounds for a print.

All of this is possible because he's ringo fucking starr, he can sell his paintings for whatever he wants. If I tried to sell those for that much, I'd be laughed out of the room. All of it is just clout, it's just how big your name is and how much you can use that as leverage.

This is not to say that other forms of art don't also have this issue, they do, especially with people devaluing creative works so much today. But you could probably get a few commissions if you sell realistic art or do commissions of people's characters, while you Cannot get any money trying to sell stuff like ringos art unless you already have an audience who will buy it.

This does somewhat lead into a discussion of how art curators pick which artists are 'good' somewhat arbitrarily, but that's a whole other post.

Doing art for 'yourself' vs for other people or money is also a whole other post, one which I've actually seen quite a lot on here. But suffice to say if your response to all of this is 'just make art for yourself! Why do you need recognition?' then maybe go find some of those posts. It's not bad to want recognition, and it's not bad to question why that guy is getting much more recognition for the exact same thing you're doing just because he has a bunch of rich friends who are able to host fancy parties and go 'hmm. yes this is good art.' (not that all modern artists had rich friends, but they did almost all get Extremely lucky in some shape or another that led to them now being widely accepted as good artists).

You cannot make a living off modern art unless you're well known, and if you happen to be well known already, you could likely make a living off modern art without having any experience, and that's what a lot of people hate about modern art, even if they don't articulate it. While some would, most wouldn't say "my five year old could do that" to someone's personal piece that they made themselves and hung up in their home, or that their friend made and gave to them. They say that about the pieces bought for thousands of dollars or millions of dollars.

And I don't want people to think that I do hate modern art, I don't (though this is tumblr, so I'm pissing on the poor just by writing this). I don't hate any of the famous modern artists, I don't think modern art isn't art. I do hate the industry that says their art is suddenly worth something just because some rich fuckers somewhere decided they should be, and anything I tried to do in a similar vein, original or not, would be better suited to sit in a coffee shop and continuously marked down and never sold.

So next time you say "so why don't you make it", maybe ask yourself if you would buy it.

[sparrowssally]

*cracks knuckles* Yet another PSA about the Tennant and Sheen families…

Alright, here goes it. I don’t give a fuck if you ship Aziraphale and Crowley. I’m a huge shipper of them myself, so it’s all good! Love them, want the world for them, etc etc. HOWEVER, if you want to:

1. ship David and Michael romantically

2. want to use shipping David and Michael as an excuse to be blatantly misogynistic against their respective partners (Georgia and Anna)

3. want to allege that they are being “trapped” in their marriage by their partners “strategically” having kids

Then get the fuck off my blog. Seriously. There’s no place for you here.

You’re literally hoping that David Tennant, a man with five kids, will leave his wife of 12 years (whom he clearly loves) to end up in a hyper-sexual romantic relationship with Michael Sheen, who would also have to leave his partner as well, with whom he has two young children and who he seems very happy with. You’re literally wanting happy families to get broken apart so that your selfish ship can sail. It’s disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourselves.

I get wanting to have queer representation, it’s greatly needed and there is always room for more of it. However, wanting to assign a queer identity to someone who hasn’t publicly acknowledged that they identify that way is NOT okay. I don’t care who they are, celebrity or not. If you want to see queer representation, then Aziraphale and Crowley are RIGHT THERE. Don’t wreck real people’s relationships with their partners—and their friendship with each other—just because you want your ship to sail. If for some reason David and/or Michael want to come out in the future on their own, then that’s for them to do when they feel comfortable, and speculating about their identities without them saying anything is just weird and gross.

AND ANOTHER THING! All y’all who write essay-long posts analyzing every single social media thing about Michael, David, Georgia, and Anna: y’all need to get a fucking life. Go outside. Touch grass. PLEASE stop treating these very real people like they’re puppets in your grand romance story. I guarantee you that their lives are probably not NEARLY as fascinating and scandal-filled as what you think they are. And believe it or not—because I know y’all LOVE to use this as “evidence”—people are allowed to not be all smiley and lovey-dovey in selfies and photos with their partners, and for many people, teasing their partners is part of their relationship! *gasp* I know right?? Shocking. It literally doesn’t mean anything that Georgia and David tease each other or that Michael and Anna tease each other, and that they all occasionally aren’t smiling in photos with each other. That’s normal person behavior and I’m begging y’all to understand that.

I know this post probably isn’t going to be seen by the weirdo people who need to see it the most, but whatever. I just really needed to get this off my chest.

[weebsinstash]

Now Im interested on the "What if the 3 Vs passed Reader around like a blunt"

I kind of meant it in like a "what if you were some weird shared friend/pet" but I've seen people HC that the 3Vs are poly, although we've never seen any canon confirmation of this and on the Instas it was always Vox who was Val's explicit partner

Although to be nasty I feel like Velvette would be fucked up enough to watch Reader get railed by Val and Vox. Like in some party scenario where you're with all 3 in their house and Valentino dopes you up or something, she's just like, recording you getting spitroasted on her phone

I usually imagine these sorts of scenarios as Reader meeting Val and then slowly drawing the attention of the others, although Vox really has grown on me and I hope we see more of him these last two episodes. Anyways i'm starting to like the idea of Reader meeting Vox first. Like can you imagine you get hired on as a coder or a programmer or a product developer, and he's patrolling the facilities or checking in on a specific project and that's when you meet. He either notices the quality of your work or your manager brings it up to him, or there's some massive metaphorical fire you put out (like that woman who saved toy story 2 from being completely erased because she had all the files backed up, something like that)

You and Vox get to talking, getting along, having similar tastes. He starts giving you different projects, ones he thinks are better suited to your skills (and also put you in closer proximity to him). Fucking liar is arranging shit like company calendars or company events where there are photoshoots JUST so he has an excuse to pose with you for a photo. I mean, it makes sense right? Why would you question your boss wanting to take a celebratory photo at the release of a huge product launch? And you're happy and feeling so respected and successful and being friendlier with him the more you settle into Hell and feel safer, and then I imagine Vox's way of being "obvious" is that he's like, easily nervous or a nervous laugher , I dunno. It's all preference but I like yandere/antagonists who keep their cool a little bit but then it's also cute when they fawn over you 🥰 like the people who know him see the way he laughs around you and they Instantly Know

But then, maybe Val is perceptive enough to notice, "hey why does my man keep taking photos with this one specific person". Like maybe Vox is trying to be slick with it and all the photos are group shots but Val notices that every single photo has you in it and some of the photos are for really minor events he knows Vox wouldn't normally care about. Vox slips up one day when you and him are "sharing a car to go to a company event" which totally isn't like a catered dinner that there are only going to be SO many people at, TOTALLY NOT an incognito date that you're complerely unaware of the intentions behind, and Vox has to stop in back home to grab something, or you get pulled inside for a moment just to wait, he's gotta grab a laptop or a flash drive and, suddenly here's Velvette, "Vox I'm borrowing your nerdy employee, I'm short someone and I need a model for something" and you're getting dragged away

Vox is freaking out thinking you got swiped by Val and he's zipping through the electrical lines in the house (the electro-teleportation shit really is SUCH a game changer), and he finds you trying on things with Velvette, "oh my gosh I've never worn something this nice before, thank you for giving me the opportunity to try it on ^^" and Velvette is so pompous that any praise goes right to her head, and now Vox gets to see you all styled in... whatever. Velvette waves a finger, "now you two match!" as she puts you in an outfit with Vox's aesthetic and color scheme, and she's doing it to tease the both of you but she IMMEDIATELY notices "oh hey Vox what's that look on your face >:3c does someone have a crush?"

SHE would be the fucking gossip who would tell Val honestly. Actually new headcanon lmao: the Vs rarely want to share you but will rat each other out for "having you" in a heart beat. Velvette and Vox hide you from Val, but any of them will gladly steal you from the other lmao. God, a yandere Vox who's lucid and tryna keep his behaviors under wraps, keep it to pictures, stalking and looking from afar, and then you have the other two Vs like SHOVING YOU at him as like, a joke to watch him squirm and blush. They'd be randomly bringing you along just to tease him and watch him sweat. Valentino hits Vox up for a date or a night out and the tv demon shows up and you're there too lmao

I feel like these three are the worst because they all have the capacity to be obsessed with your appearance. Velvette is an influencer, Vox is a TV mogul and tech CEO, and Valentino... obviously we don't need to comment on his penchant for having arm candy. All of them are obsessed with their appearance and their brand and one of them is literally a tailor with magical clothes changing powers. You could have something like the other two Vs show up while you're serving Val drinks and Velvette cocks her brow, "hey, why doesn't this one have a proper uniform?" And she just starts zapping you into different varying levels of exposed outfits that match the other employees at the strip club and Val's aesthetic just for kicks as the big man himself oogles you like a pervert and his boyfriend is pretending he's not interested but, his screen is totally turning red

Tbh I'm suddenly thinking of like, imagine thinking "your body is safe" because Val has never come onto you and, you aren't sleeping with anyone and, you get upset one night and do some self harming behaviors. Velvette or Valentino comes and demands you try something on or you get nonconsensually zapped into something and there are cuts hidden on your body. Velvette is furious because this affects how you look in her clothes and what she can dress you up in, Vox is you know concerned because idk I imagine he knows what it's like to be horribly insecure and feel like you aren't good enough, and Valentino probably loves having you constantly half naked and the self harm scabs? Not hot, babe. Obviously they're all upset over you hurting yourself but, these are occasional feelings on top of that

Ugh I dunno just. They all have power and influence and money and they're all crazy and I'm over here kicking my feet and twirling my hair with thoughts of being objectified in allllll the fun ways