#but i mean... did i come out? is this considered coming out? i never said i was bi anyway but i guess it was heavily implied lmao

[soundwavefucker69]

I don't share this often, but I am a trans man named Minty.

awhile after I got my legal name change, I asked my mom what she would have named me if I was a boy. she said Sebastian, and I groaned and complained that I should have asked before I got the name change, because I really DID like Sebastian now that it was occurring to me as a possible name and had ALWAYS liked Sebastian, even before my MCU days as a teenager. I had even considered it as an option but worried I'd end up looking like a weird fandom kid that had never let go of the MCU. if I had known that was the name my mother had picked for me, I would have had justification to choose it.

she asked me why I picked Minty then. i kinda paused in surprise because I thought it was obvious. and I was like. well. I wanted a name i felt like I could associate with childhood me.

after the first house we lived in was foreclosed on by the bank, we had to rent while my parents fixed their credit and swore never to get a fixer upper again. so we picked a nice house in our small town with only two real neighbors of note: an old lady, whose kids had forgotten about her, that lived way down the alley, around the point it turned from paved to dirt, the only house down there, who had a pomegranate tree in her ill-tended front yard, and a nice old lady next door that for some inexplicable reason had a miniature horse and a beautifully tended flower garden she had foolishly once planted mint in. she also had a very, very old fashioned rotary telephone. I mean the kind hardwired into the wall, of metal, with a speaker with a smooth wooden handle that sat neatly on top. not one of the plastic ones. the ones you see in old movies.

we loved these old ladies very much. the pomegranate lady was too old to keep up on her yard, so my brother and I would go with our dad to help weed whack and scrape up the dead leaves. we didn't offer too much, she was a proud sort, and couldn't pay us, but just enough to help out a little. and the mint in her flower garden lady loved it when we came by to say hi to her horse whose name I forget and loved to teach us how to garden.

she would send us home with mint. obviously. because when you have a mint infestation, well. it's pointless, but you gotta try anyway. and my mom would take that mint and make sun tea, just on the edge of not sweet enough, bc she was a bit of a crunchy mom, but not enough to reprimand me for sneaking a bit of sugar into my cup after to mix it up. (the sugar never dissolved right, especially after it was chilled, and i would always make a racket trying to get it to do so)

I told her I picked Minty because it ties me to my childhood. I didn't want to just cast it away. I wasn't Minty yet, but I also wouldn't be Minty without those days.

mom hasn't fully come around to me being trans. but she was quiet for a long, long time before she kind of whispered. I think I like Minty better than Sebastian. you should keep it.

my mom has always beat herself up over our childhood. she lacked a lot of stability in her upbringing and thought church was the way to go with my brother and I. unfortunately, she picked the wrong church. it was intensely traumatizing for us. we've had a lot of tough conversations about it. but I was able to tell her that day, you know Mom, I know you think you didn't do enough, but just know I'm not trans because you put me in a place where womanhood was miserable and I'm running from it. I don't remember much of the church, even though it consumed my life. what I do remember is my mother, the woman I may have complicated feelings towards, but have always admired and was always my standard for womanhood, being criticized by the other women for allowing me to read this book or that book and not bending or breaking under their rebukes for twenty years. I remember finding out as a twenty year old that I was the only "girl" in church that got the HPV vaccine, because you wanted to protect me, and not rely on chastity alone, like some sort of egotistical maniac who believed I'd always be your daughter, not a living breathing person that would make choices you didn't approve of as an adult, that shouldn't have to suffer for no reason from those choices. I remember you reading to my brother and I well into our teen years, using your acting talents that didn't blossom into the career you wanted to bring the characters in Peter and the Starcatchers to life. I remember listening to Lord of the Rings on cassette tape in the mini van, even though they said it was demonic when they found out. I remember the mom that let me be a tomboy. I remember the mom that would put on the Wind and the Willows on cassette from the library on rainy summer days and we'd listen to it and eat meatballs and spaghetti in the kitchen.

I told her, you're not a failure as a mother, and I didn't hate womanhood because of your example. it just didn't fit me. you made mistakes because you're human. I never thought of you as less than because you're a woman, and I didn't want to escape the cage you're thinking i wanted to escape.

my mom cried. I think that was the first time i made her cry and didn't feel bad about it.

anyways. not a soft memory, but it feels soft to me.

Tell me a soft memory

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT ✦ M.R x READER

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time

pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader

tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, so tamino inspired

word count: 3.7k

warnings: just fluff again! along with easily flustered mattheo (+ teasing theo)

author's note: my second post!! i made a small playlist of tamino songs i used for mattheo in this. if you haven��t, please go listen to him (his music is so good). i based this off a small part of my first fic where theo sang to reader. as always, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always�� is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[bugflies00]

im getting pissed off seeing some things on twitter but seriously, where did the idea that fans have to "address" or "have a conversation" about cc's relationships and friendships even come from? the idea that we have to decode red flags and we have to address "how weird things were in retrospect"? yes this is about tommy and WS, no matter what tommy alluded to in yesterdays video that was not permission to suddenly start talking about things that you have assumed were a given. we do not actually know what their relationship was like, and we never will unless tommy chooses to say something about it. that is the ONLY word you can take for it and its frankly weird to jump on a few things he said when he was clearly venting, and use that to construct your imaginary version of how things are behind the scenes. you can show support to tommy without digging further than he chose to share its really not that hard

i do not understand in what reality its somehow a fan, a STRANGER's, responsibility to a) closely examine a creator's relationship b) pick out supposed "red flags" and c) speculate on what this interpretation entails. thats invasive and creepy. you're allowed to privately have your own opinion of peoples relationships but we dont KNOW these people. we're fucking strangers.

if anyone was hurt, we're not involved! and you know what WOULDN'T fix that potential hurt? seeing people online wildly speculating and guessing and providing their own "take" like its a fucking tv show. i understand ccs put themselves forward in a manner not unlike reality tv sometimes, but that doesnt mean you dont owe them privacy.

and i understand its not always something malicious, sometimes its out of very misplaced genuine concern/anxiety for someone who you look up to. so i want to make it really clear that you, random fan, are not being "complicit" or whatever because you watched while a creator had a friendship that you, from behind your screen, consider as unhealthy with a younger creator. even if it later revealed that your analysis was correct. you are not complicit in this scenario because you are a stranger who is not involved and has zero responsibility.

do people genuinely think making all these posts help? do you think that tommyinnit is relying on his fans to analyse for him whether his friendships and relationships are healthy or not? do you really not see how thats not our job and is completely out of line? just be normal like honestly i think he's dealt with enough

[swiftreader1989]

🚨🚨🚨

new theories I will consider going into the glorious rivals

FIRST THEORY: KAILEY IS LYRA'S MOM - kailey is alive and is lyra's mom. when reading the games untold I found the small bits of kailey and lyra's mom to be too similar: these are my reasons ↓ @emreads294 introduced this theory and made a great post abt it (go check it out!)

1.) kailey loves to dance, it's all she ever does and even in hannah's dream she appears to tell her to keep dancing and to teach her future daughter to do so as well. now I imagine kailey aka "lyra's mom" to also hold that true to herself, putting her daughter in ballet and what is basically so much of who lyra is. OFC lyra is going to be dancer if kailey loved it too. I can also imagine kailey being distraught, confused, and upset when lyra quits dancing her senior year of hs.

2.) kailey and lyra's mom both have very bubbly personalities and so much optimism just by the short bits we've seen of them. also kailey is said to have a bit of a short temper, who has that as well? LYRA. kailey LOVES to curse and say "bitch". guess who also loves to curse and has her own trademark aka "asshole", LYRA.

3.) kailey saying "you, glorious thing, you" comes up about five times in the hannah and toby's story. what's the next title of the next book? GLORIOUS RIVALS. now you're probably like yas you sound crazy rn and you're probably right... I do. but jlb never does anything unintentional especially if this phrase comes up so much in the span of such a short story. could this be foreshadowing of role kailey has in the next book and the rivals at play?

4.) @emreads294 brought up another great point as well and said kailey was known to be very nicknamey. meaning she loved to give people nicknames and what does lyra's mom call her? YOU AVOIDER. because she rarely calls her mother. something kailey would say...

5.) this is also random but kailey and catalina both have the same meaning aka pure. which I thought was cute and interesting if that's lyra's mother. we also do not know lyra's mom's name but her stepfather's? that's a little fishy and mysterious if you ask moi.

SECOND THEORY: TOBY SENT LYRA THE INVITE FOR TGG

-toby sent lyra the game invite in hopes to redeem himself for the guilt he's had for "killing" hannah's sister kailey.

-he says he will always be sorry for what he did to her and carries that burden. so when he finds out that kailey IS ALIVE & has a daughter named lyra. he's probably shook and thinks to himself that hannah not only had a niece but avery has a cousin.

-AND by reading toby and avery's relationship they are daughter and father. making lyra in a way his niece. so toby as an "uncle" gives her the invitation because if he can help anyone related to hannah out he will do so especially if he thought kailey was dead.

-who else would say "you deserve this" not eve or alice. they're both psychotic bitches who care for no one but themselves. I like to think uncle toby ate and sent lyra to the game!

what are your thoughts?!

[conkreetmonkey]

Fart-O-Saurus knows what he is: a weapon. A biological, breathing, sentient sundial bomb, brought into this world to reset it when the same forces that created him deemed it neccesary. He was born a means of mass slaughter first, and a person second. No objective purpose except to kill, with great efficiency and thoroughness.

Perhaps it was cruel for the powers that be to give Fart-O-Saurus a sapient mind, the capacity to feel, and the ability to dream, yet immunity to his own methods of chemical asphyxiation and biological immortality. Perhaps it was thoughtless of them to mould him in the form of the people he was destined to eradicate. He never ages. He never feels thirst nor hunger. Impossibly toxic gas pours from his body in uncontrollable, constant ways that defy the very laws of thermodynamics; nothing goes in, yet planet-killing volumes of matter come out, as if his anus contains a portal to a vast realm of gaseous poison. A seemingly boundless supply of pure, unadulterated death, spewing from his form, never ceasing, impossible to prevent.

Brad Bird once said "What if a gun had a soul, and didn't want to be a gun?" This concept became the basis of The Iron Giant, a film often considered to be the legendary director's magnum opus. In it, an extraterrestrial weapon of war that just so happens to also have a sapient mind and kind heart crash lands on Earth, flung by some far-off, never explained mechanism, presumably relating to whatever now-irrelevant conflict he was manufactured to kill and die in. Retaining a hulking metal form and in-built weapons of immense destructive potential that he has little control over, this titular iron giant must grapple with the conflicting natures of his violent body and gentle soul. He does not want to harm anyone, yet every aspect of his being is designed for that very purpose; every aspect, excepting his inner self. Essentially, he is an axe that loves the trees, doomed to forever struggle with his inherently contradictive nature.

Compared to The Iron Giant, Fart-O-Saurus is at once different and the same. Like the giant, is a weapon that has no desire to kill, a gun that does not want to be a gun. Unlike the giant, however, Fart-O-Saurus has no choice in his actions. He cannot simply learn to exercise control over his strength, lasers and hand cannons as the Giant could, for where the Giant has limited but refinable abilities in this regard, Fart-O-Saurus has no control whatsoever. The gas simply never stops flowing. He's tried, for millions of years, to find a way, but nothing can dam the never-ending cascade of smog for even an hour. It is why he imprisoned himself underground, far away from the fresh corpses of those he'd thought his bretheren, hoping against hope that the world could recover and come to thrive again if only he was removed from it. He cannot die, but he can lock himself in an inaccessible, airtight, well-hidden chamber deep beneath the earth's crust. Right? He knew what the dinosaurs had done. He knew why he had been sent to destroy them. But when he heard the screams, and then the silence that came after the screams, all pretense of moral righteousness fell away like sand through his clawed fingers. In enthusiastically commiting the world's very first genocide, he had become far worse than any of them. Their deaths hadn't even been particularly quick or painless in their brutal efficiency. Did the children really deserve to die? Did the animals? Did any of them? He had no way of knowing. The ultimate punishment had been carried out collectively and mercilessly, by him alone, and he now stood the sole, immortal survivor. There did not even remain any flies to feast upon the carcasses. Just a deafening, oppressive silence, weighing down upon him as if the chemically scorched sky was made of lead.

Humanity can just never leave well enough alone. We always have to know what is unknown, even when there's no potential benefit, even if the process of knowing is deeply immoral, or even has the potential to doom us all. Oppenheimer knew his bomb may have set the atmosphere alight and killed us all, but he ran that first test detonation anyway, because he just had to know. Hishashi Ouchi was kept alive in mind-shattering agony for 3 months, forced against his will to undergo perhaps the most painful experience ever recorded, because those doctors just had to know. And Fart-O-Saurus was unearthed, torn from his self-imprisonment kicking and screaming, the many boulders keeping him in destroyed and the many scrawled warnings on the walls ignored, because those archaeologists just had to know.

And now he's yours. His banana-sized form rests weightlessly in your hand, yet the immense moral weight attached to it pulling heavily downwards upon your soul, down to the caverns Fart-O-Saurus was removed from, down to the souls of the dinosaurs, still burning in hell. His eyes stare into yours. Those scientists had found a way to finally plug him up, but the bastards just had to keep him operational, the apocalypse delivered in an instant with a mere squeeze. For testing, they'd said. They just had to know. Then they sold him to that toy company, and then those people had put him in a box. A darkness reminiscent of the caves enveloped him once more, and he spent years, perhaps decades in transit, changing hands, gracing mantels, stuffing stockings, cluttering yard sales. And now he's here, in the palm of your hand. Your own personal, sentient nuclear football. You'd come to this Goodwill in search of a new jacket, and you'd found was the power of a god. Will you do it? Would you ever do it? It would be easy. So, so easy. Reset history and wipe the slate clean in an instant, with no effort, at any moment, with a device smaller than a toaster. A device you hold in your hand.

Fart-O-Saurus offers no comment. He doesn't even know who or what you are, just that scientists of your kind knew his gas was toxic and unearthed the source anyway, left his apocalyptic rectum still-functional for reasons he knew were excuses for a collectively weak will. The call of the void, seductive and tantalizing. A gun eternally held to every head in the world, the single trigger resting against your fingertip. He knows what he is: a weapon. A biological, breathing, sentient sundial bomb.

The only question is: will you do it?

Submission from Sponch

[destielnoirbang]

Who Framed Sam Winchester?

By queerwerewolf | @queerwolf79 Art by anyrei | @anyreiart

Coming to Ao3 on 12/27/2024

Rated Explicit | 29,180 words | No Archive Warnings Apply

Down-on-his-luck private eye Cas Novak gets hired by Angelic Studios president, Nick Vaught, to investigate a scandal involving an infamous literary character (Lit), Dean Winchester, and Vaught’s primary nemesis, Fergus Crowley. A devilish producer and prop designer who has his hands in every movie studio in Los Angeles. Crowley’s prop factory shares a wall with Lit Town, and worse yet, he owns the contract for every Lit. Every contract, that is, except for brothers Sam and Dean Winchester from the Supernatural book series. When Crowley is found murdered, Sam Winchester becomes the primary suspect and goes on the run. The villainous Judge Edlund vows to catch and destroy Sam, having discovered a means of killing Lits with a substance known only as “Pulp”. Desperate to prove his brother’s innocence, Dean demands Cas help him find his brother before the Judge does. Despite vowing to never work with another Lit after his twin brother's murder, Cas agrees. With a contentious start to their working relationship, Dean Winchester and Cas Novak begin to uncover an ever growing nefarious plot. Can Cas and Dean put a stop to this evil ploy? And more importantly, will their attraction to each other get in the way of saving the day?

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]

“Cigars? Cigarettes?”

When I turned, it was to come face to face with Dorian Gray. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t aged a day in about a decade or so. Now whether that was because he was a Lit, or that damned portrait… His cobalt blue eyes rivaled my own, although, if I’m honest, his were always prettier. His curly blonde hair was coifed in a pompadour and his scarlet lips were curled in a hungry smile. He was dressed in a form-fitting pair of charcoal pants and an even tighter black t-shirt that left little to the queer imagination, carrying a tray of different smokes.

“Dorian, what are you doing here?”

With a wistful, overly dramatic sigh, Dorian pouted his plush lips and said, “Work’s been slow for those of us with a little more… culture.” Which meant with how many contemporary novels were capturing the attention of audiences, any Lits from the 19th century or earlier had to get creative to make a living. This suited Dorian, considering his nature. “But I’m still exquisitely tragic.”

With a soft laugh, I nodded, reveling in his beauty for a moment, although I was far too old for him now. “Yeah, you are.”

The lights started to dim and a spotlight shined on the closed curtains. I caught Crowley in my peripheral vision, straightening his tie and sitting upright. He even pulled out a small bottle of cologne, spraying it against his neck. It reeked of licorice and cloves, the breath of a child that got into his father’s cigarette case.

I turned to Dorian with a bemused expression. “What’s with him?”

Dorian smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle on his pants with a shrug. “Oh, Mr. Crowley never misses a night when Dean performs.”

“Got a thing for Lits, huh?”

At that, Dorian gave me a pointed look. “If I recall, you did as well at one point.”

I cleared my throat and grabbed my drink, gulping down half of it at the implication, feeling a warmth at the memories that comment conjured. The crowd grew silent and the band could be heard from the pit, warming up their instruments. Then a familiar intro began, an infamously upbeat Cole Porter song that had been slowed down from a jazzy little jaunt to something sedated, steady, and sentimental. Just as a soft beat began, the curtains jostled and a leg popped out, bent at the knee in skin tight purple pants.

“We’re all alone… No chaperone… Can get our number… the world’s in slumber… ” A sultry, deep voice sang in a pleasant register, masterfully turning jazz to a ballad. The curtains parted and revealed one of the most breathtaking creatures I had ever seen in my life.

“Let’s misbehave…”

[stillness-in-green]

Some thoughts on The Discourse about the last BNHA cover

(Note: This Discourse was on Twitter. I don’t know how much of this may have been said here on Tumblr, so consider this either my contribution or just me reporting back on drama from other fronts.)

So, I saw a lot of back and forth over there between people who didn’t like the cover and people who did, and I spent a little while mulling it over. It seemed to me that the people who didn’t like it had a good point, but one they were not articulating particularly well, possibly thanks to the character limit and possibly also because the people talking about it tended to phrase their objections in sarcastic, consciously exaggerated terms because that’s the language months and months of dealing with the truly insufferable Horikoshi Defense Squad on Twitter primed them to use.

So what is the point?  Basically this: In going for the lazy/easy callback in both the cover design and Dai (plate-hair kid)'s role in the final chapter more generally, Horikoshi landed on an "everything comes full circle" ending when what the story desperately needed was an indicator of change.

We didn't need to know that a kid with low self-confidence and nothing to speak of in the quirk department can still become a Pro Hero if he[1] wants to.  We already knew that because it's what the whole story of BNHA was about!  Deku passing the torch/paying it forward is nice if all you care about is Deku's personal arc, but it's sheer reductiveness if you care about literally anything else.  If there was going to be a kid getting Deku's encouragement and help at the end, if that's the ending Hori was absolutely set on, it shouldn't have been the Deku Redux kid; it shouldn't have been the weak kid who has already been metaphorically proven capable of becoming a Hero.

1: And of course it would be a boy.

It should have been the troubled kid, the one from the bad family situation, the one who isn't sure whether he even believes in this Hero thing.  It should have been the kid who, if nothing about Hero Society had changed, would’ve been rejected by the whole corrupt system—in so many words, the Tenko Redux kid.  That's the one who we saw could not become a Hero under the previous system.  That's who we needed to demonstrate the system's improvement.

Instead, all we get is Deku helping himself.  And it fits, I guess, because “himself” is the only sort of person Deku ever wanted to save anyway—remember that in the very first chapter, Deku tells All Might that he wants to be a Hero because he was never “saved” as a kid and so he thinks saving is the coolest thing ever.  Implicitly, then, Deku wanted to be the kind of Hero who could have saved the kid he was, and that tendency to reserve his compassion for people he can recognize himself in—the crying children and the Hero wannabes—is consistent throughout the series.  Dai, then, simply becomes the very last of these examples, the chance for Deku to tell his middle school self that he, too, can be a great Hero.

And that’s quite a choice, isn’t it?  Take a second to consider the implications there. The metaphorical parallel Deku helps is his middle school self, not his childhood self—there’s no evidence that Dai was bullied on the same level young Izuku was, and we sure didn’t see anyone telling him to jump off a roof.  So, who does save those children, then, in this grand, improved version of Hero Society?  Does anyone?

Well, not really. Not that we’re shown. Indeed, the child who was the closest analogue to young Izuku—a weak and seemingly quirkless boy who stuck his neck out for other rejected children, who still stubbornly wanted to be a Hero despite a parent's disapproval—was Tenko, and Deku pointedly did not save him.

To be clear, I don’t mean that just in the sense that Deku failed to save the adult Tenko became, but even in the emotional sense that the series clearly wants me to believe Deku succeeded at, the saving of the boy's heart? I don’t think Deku even managed that.  Sure, he might have protected the echo of that child from a few memories, might have held his hands for a few exchanges of dialogue, but then the boy transformed back into the form of the Villain he'd become and was swallowed down the spiritual maw of the man from whom society failed to save Tenko to begin with! And what was Deku doing as this happened? Absolutely nothing but yelling impotently as he got blown backward and out of the mindscape.

Imagine that Deku had found some way to cheer up Izumi Kouta only for Muscular to kill the kid thirty seconds later.  No one would be saying, “I think Deku still saved him—his heart, anyway,” if Deku got Kouta to smile and admit that Heroes were actually pretty cool only to do nothing but scream helplessly as he watched Muscular pulverize Kouta’s ribcage with one gentle squeeze.[2]

2: Mind you, this comparison is flawed!  Unlike AFO’s vestige, Muscular doesn’t turn up to kill a child as a direct result of Deku’s own actions. Also unlike the events of the final battle, Deku doesn't jump up and personally administer the killing blow to the still-screaming victim, either.

It just leaves me thinking about some of the stuff @codenamesazanka has said about how the narrative treats Shigaraki and Deku helping him: not as something Deku has a duty to do, not something Hero Society on the whole owes Shigaraki (and all the other metaphorical expy/future Shigarakis), but rather a bonus, a nice extra, a demonstration to shine up Deku's Hero cred because he's making efforts no one else would bother with and that no one would reasonably expect him to make. It's not Deku’s job to save the Tenkos or the young Izukus of the world; apparently that just falls to society at large.

So then, what was the point of making Tenko/Tomura such an extreme case of someone who started in a similar place to Deku?  Why make him, also, a weak kid who was told he couldn't be a Hero, if you're not going to have Deku save him in the way no one saved Deku himself?

From where I'm sitting, the answer is, "It seemed like a good idea to Horikoshi at the time, but proved to be poorly thought out."  But if Deku failing to save his own closest childhood analogue was where the story was going the whole time, then Shigaraki should never have been used to parallel Deku to begin with.  It's just a damned waste of Shigaraki as a character, an insult to everything he represented, to use him for ~the parallels~ throughout the entirety of the story except the very beginning and the very end.

Anyway, Pro Heroes are bullshit and the ending should have been them being radically reconceived from the ground up with input from all the people they failed to save.  But again, if you have to still have Heroes-qua-Heroes at the end, and you have to have some stupid thematic echo because you as an author think callbacks are the single most compelling storytelling tool of all time, then everything we got on Dai should have been for Scissors-kun instead, and here I am very much including Dai's scene before the first war. An unsettling scene of a strange child with his mouth sewn shut, stuck in a straitjacket in a dark room should have been the last thing we saw before launching into the day of the raids, an apparent element for the future in the same way that so many future Villains were first shown in the wake of Stain's arrest.

See, Shigaraki’s own destructiveness is what ultimately frees Scissors-kun from the basement, “saving” this rejected, abused child in a way no Hero ever managed or even knew to try, just as Shigaraki brought light and a strange sort of hope to the lives of so many others whom Heroes failed.  However, Shigaraki couldn't carry his ambitions through to the end. He was never able to meet the kid he indirectly saved, never able to offer that appallingly abused victim an avenue for his signature brand of rough justice. Heroes stopped him from doing so. So then, who will help Scissors-kun?

If we’re to believe that the story's protagonist has made a real difference, that Deku and his classmates have changed the world for the better, then we don't need to see them helping a kid who we already know is going to turn out fine because “he” aleady did. We need to see them help the people that previously only Villains would have helped, picking up the torch they struck from Shigaraki’s hands.

So sure, keep the scene with Granny Evil and Scissors-kun if you must, to show that it’s not only Heroes but also the broader Hero Society that’s changed. After that, though, show Deku stepping in.  Show him taking an interest in this kid as a way to keep his promises—to Shigaraki, that the rejection and obliviousness that he sought to destroy have indeed been destroyed and will remain so, and to Spinner, that Deku will remember Shigaraki for the rest of his life. 

When Deku is older and in a position to give advice to a kid who’s floundering and uncertain of what to do with his life because of what people around him say about him, make that character echo the characters the old system failed to save, not the character who the entire story proved would do just fine.

For god's sake, ditch Deku Redux.

Now, I know the obvious rejoinder here: We can’t use Deku’s story to say that BNHA already showed us that Dai would be fine because Dai has a quirk where Deku did not, therefore Deku’s path would not be open to Dai.  To this, I would reply that neither Deku nor Dai specify that Dai wants/is able to be a top Hero, merely that he be the kind of Hero people can admire—which the story has also already proven true!

Ojiro got into UA with nothing but one (1) extra limb.

Manual has a perfectly middling quirk that turned out to be absolutely crucial in two different wars because it was the right quirk at the right time.

Wash’s quirk makes strong bubbles. 

Like, this list is not short.  Manifest Plates might or might not make Dai Hero Billboard material, but one of the major points of the endgame was the sublime and noble value of helping when you can, in the way that you can.  So to reiterate, we didn’t need that to be proven again in the epilogue.

If anything, going the route of retreading the same story makes the epilogue much worse! Not only do we not get to see how this society is helping the people the old society most profoundly failed—victims who fall through the cracks and become Villains—but in seeing yet another a weak kid being mocked for his heroic aspirations, we find that we’ve barely moved a step beyond the exact same place we started.

That’s the message Horikoshi chose to go with, for both the closing chapters of the story and the story’s final volume cover.  Truly, as art that summarizes the story goes, it’s a masterful choice!  And that's the whole problem. The cover of Volume 42 is a perfect illustration of the self-absorbed, cynical, cyclical nature of BNHA's endgame. Little wonder, then, that it's hated by the same people who hated said endgame.

[aurumacadicus]

I just had a funny idea omg:

"Hey, so, do you have like. Any mutant powers or anything?" Steve asked carefully.

Sam did not turn from the water fountain. "No."

Bucky looked like it took all of his self control not to vibrate into orbit. "So this little friend that's been following us around the park--"

"It's a bird," Sam barked, finally turning around to glare at him. "We're being stalked by a pigeon, Barnes. This isn't funny. It could be controlled by a villain."

"You are being stalked by a pigeon," Bucky corrected gleefully.

"Stop fighting," Steve sighed, watching as the pigeon desperately flapped its wings at the spout to fill a dog bowl. He stepped on the button, and the pigeon greedily flapped under the stream of water. "I don't think it's being controlled by a villain. A villain would make it forget it was thirsty."

Sam and Bucky considered this, watching as the bird gulped a beakful of water one time out of five, as if it was not used to having a beak. "Well now I feel bad," Sam said. It has been following him since he left the VA last night.

Bucky groaned. "This means we have to ask Tony for help, doesn't it?"

Steve shot him a glare. "Why is that bad?"

"He's gonna hyper focus and make a means of communication for Lucky, Alpine, and Liho, I just know it," Bucky sighed miserably.

Sam took off his shirt and knelt down, carefully wrapping it around the panting, soaked pigeon. "Come on, buddy," he said as Steve and Bucky began bickering behind him. "Let's get you some help." Maybe, if he asked Tony without the bickering soldiers, Tony would be more concerned about their new pigeon friend.

--

Remarkably, Tony already had a nice bird setup. "Jarvis used to keep quail," he'd explained with a shrug as he showed them through the old Stark mansion.

The pigeon seemed to appreciate the heaters and bowls of bird seed, although it never seemed to quite get a knack for the water bowls.

Tony let Sam help when it came to putting the communication device together, which he appreciated, because the more he watched the pigeon, the less like a bird it seemed. Or at least, the less like a New York street pigeon, anyway. It didn't gorge itself while it had the chance, and it mostly hobbled around on the ground instead of trying to fly up to one of the perches. That could have been because it was still recovering from exhaustion, but Sam doubted it.

"Et voilá," Tony said as they finished it. "If it's a bird, it'll tell us about fries."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him even as he followed Tony to the bird pen. "You know what birds talk about?"

"I have had enough bags of fries stolen to know," Tony told him primly as he turned the communicator on. "Speak, pigeon."

"Sam my brother accidentally turned me into a bird after we left your office yesterday," the pigeon wailed. "He got scared and ran away and I couldn't keep up with him or open the door to go back into your office I AM A PIGEON WITH PTSD NOW SAM!!!!!"

"Oh my God Jessica," Sam gasped, and Tony clapped a hand over his mouth and turned away, shoulders shaking with the effort not to laugh. "We'll figure this out FUCKING STOP LAUGHING TONY."

"It is kind of funny," Jessica said reluctantly.

"It fucking isn't you're a BIRD, JESSICA!" Sam bellowed.

"Yeah, but it's also the first time I slept through the night without waking up screaming, so," Jessica continued.

"Animal therapy," Tony choked, and then screamed when Sam chased him out of the enclosure.

[riddles-n-games]

Hey guys, I've been seeing another rift going on in the fandom regarding TGG and TIG characters, so I've decided to make a statement that can hopefully make things more cohesive.

I understand that not everyone likes the new spin-off and honestly, I'm considering just stopping after GU. Personally, I don't have anything against the characters of TGG but my problem is that they sound too much like our old mains. However, that's not their fault. It's the author's. There's nothing wrong with JLB wanting to expand the TIG universe but it is problematic when you are repeating the same character arcs of the old characters that are also present and interacting with these new mains. The problem that we face is the fact while even in The Naturals there are similar characters, they are divided by different series. However, that is not going on here with TIG and TGG. TGG is a continuation of TIG and our TIG characters are still present. Heck, one of our old mains is a player and a love interest here to one of the new mains. And therein lies the issue. When you have a connected series, it's important to have distinguished characters with different voices, not carbon copies.

What I expected for TGG characters was that she would move from the character tropes we've seen already in the series and come up with new ones. I mean, come on, she's a psychology major, we bring that up so often but what's the point when she keeps going in circles and never brings up anything new? I pointed a lot of this out pre-read because I already correctly guessed where this was going within just a few pages of reveal. Don't get me wrong, if she wanted to, she could do it but it doesn't feel like she has new plans or plots. Be honest with yourselves and don't just praise because she's your favorite author. You can be a reader, a fan, and a respectful critic all at the same time. Don't lower your expectations just because they can't deliver every time.

The trouble is that when you go back to TFG, in the acknowledgments, she herself wrote she wasn't sure there was going to be a third book. And now look, suddenly two books were announced a month or two after she released the last book of the trilogy which introduced our mains and not the most fashionably. I do believe she had ideas but I don't think they were the best fleshed out. You have to realize that just reading TGG, how many of you recognized the obvious plots, the romantic subplots, the character arcs, and even the semi-hidden plots just getting to the halfway point? And how many of you said, hey, wait a minute, we've had this plotline before? You did, didn't you? I want to give Jennifer the benefit of the doubt but I truly think she is in over her head because I don't believe she quite thought that this is how long the series would go.

In fact, I think that she is making more trouble for herself in trying multi POV for this new series when really I think it should have just been Gray taking over. It would have allowed us to see how he's grown especially after the heartache and mental health issues he's had to go through to get here. It felt like the obvious next step, even the summary for TGG made it sound like that. However, the only thing that seems new to me is the hypersexual atmosphere which also makes no sense to me because teens may go through attraction but that doesn't mean they're horny all the time and anyone who's gone through puberty can attest to that. So I ask again, like one reviewer on Goodreads put, were the romantic moments in the room with us? 12 hours is not love or romance, it's lust, that's it. Couldn't summarize it clearer. If she wanted to make it better, it could have been that she made the book stretch over a series of weeks which is why I wonder what the heck will happen to any character development if this book series is done in like 3 days?

As I said, a lot of things feel very repetitive, the plot, word choice, thought processes, quotes and sayings, etc. We are in a loop. She's in a loop. I think that the best thing JLB could have done is leave TIG alone for a few years after TFG, make a new series or whatever works outside this series she wanted to, give herself time to truly see if she has new stories to tell for TIG by writing a spin-off and then come back to give us that content. Because it's really telling how forced things have been in the last two books, even here with GU and I really think this empire is toppling. As they say, quality over quantity and thoughtful than full of thoughts that are just a variation of one another. That's what makes me think more and more she should have left it at TFG.

Thank you for reading and I hope this gives a new perspective that can help you see some things more clearly.

[emmersonisdesperate]

This post wasn't supposed to be about Regulus "don't fucking touch me" Black and James "unless it's me :3" Potter. This wasn't a Jegulus post at ALL, idk how I forgot the main point.

Regulus Black and Physical Intimacy pt.2

The Slytherins and James were hanging out in the common room.

Barty and Pandora were slightly at a distance, conducting and inventing dangerous magic spells together. Evan was closer but he was mostly on babysitting duty, making sure they don't go too far.

Dorcas was curled on an armchair adjacent to the couch, re-doing her essay as one does. Normally she'd join them but she considers this area of magic 'beneath her'.

After what has been hours of Regulus upstairs with his brother (5 minutes), James perks up on the couch when he sees the pair of brothers come down the stairs.

They were talking to each other, well, bickering was more accurate but they seemed relaxed, as normal siblings should be. James' heart melted, he wants to see more of that.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Tiramisu."

Regulus says as if that explained anything.

Pandora perked up.

"Tiramisu? You brought food?"

That brings both Barty and Evan's attention onto them.

Sirius shoots them an apologetic look.

"Sorry, no food here."

The trio visibly deflates.

James clears his throat, bringing attention back to the original topic.

"What about Tiramisu?"

Sirius smirks while Regulus grumbles, crossing his arms.

"Not Tiramisu exactly, but he was banned from using forks with Tiramisu, you know?"

Intrigued, Dorcas puts down her scroll, sensing she was going to hear something Regulus wouldn't want anyone knowing. Always trying to find something incriminating.

"No, I did not know that, he was banned?"

"Well, not anymore but when he was like, so much shorter than this--" That gets him a kick on the leg but he marches on. "--we'd have Tiramisu for dessert every meal, his favorite."

James and the others can't help but coo, imagining a Regulus that barely reaches the table, looking forward to what was probably his favorite part of the meal.

"...I--Merlin, you guys are terrible."

Sirius sighs once the coos settle down, then continues.

"It was just a regular family dinner? Or there was some event? Celebration? Anyways, the whole family was there."

Regulus goes to sit next to James, close enough for their thighs to touch and James immediately feels like he could explode, like a supernova.

"And obviously that means we're going to have annoying aunts and uncles bothering us. So that night, I think Aunt Druella was the one fussing over Regulus? I can't remember what she was saying though but it got Reggie all red and fuming."

Hearing the name of their aunt, the rosier siblings were fully attentive to Sirius, dropping their experiments. When it became clear his partners were no longer into it, Barty had no choice but to be attentive too.

Regulus crossed his arms, appearing displeased as he recalled the memory.

"She kept insinuating I was a girl. My long eyelashes, my big eyes, my little body, my pretty face."

Sirius cackles.

"Oh that's right, Reggie hated being compared to a girl back then."

"... still does."

Barty mumbles as he recalled a painful memory in fourth year. He learned his lesson then.

"So of course, he retaliated. He stabs her in the thigh. With a fork."

Barty wheezes. Sirius joins in too, laughing. Regulus smirks, smiling fondly at the memory.

"Oh everyone's reactions--it was gold! It was the first time dinner became so silent besides well, her screaming!"

The other four were stunned into silence until Evan broke it, followed by Pandora.

"Hold on--you stabbed Aunt Druella?! As a kid??"

"How have we never heard about this??"

Sirius waved them off.

"They made her keep quiet about it, said it was her fault for bothering Reggie when he was oh so troubled for Hogwarts next year."

Barty wasn't surprised at this level of casual violence in their family, Pandora and Evan weren't surprised they made her keep quiet or that the Black brothers were recounting the memory like it was your usual nostalgia.

Dorcas and James however, could only stare in silence. A bit of fear from James.

"So that's why his fork privileges were taken away, but only for Tiramisu."

Sirius then joins Regulus and James on the couch, sitting next to his brother once he was done artistically recounting the tale of Regulus and Forks with Tiramisu.

He raises an arm to wrap around Regulus while their friends watch in horror as the brothers make physical contact.

"Although now that I think about it, he could still use forks to eat anything else and he always had knives."

Regulus allows himself to be pulled into his brother's embrace, neither noticing how the room has fallen into an awed silence.

"They wanted to fuck with her. Announcing they were going to take away my forks for Tiramisu every time? But still giving me forks and knives anyways?"

Regulus snorts and Sirius grins, squeezing his brother into his arm.

"Yeah, that's where you get your mean streak from."

"Accusations."

Regulus blinks innocently.

By then, the brothers realized their friends and even some other Slytherins were looking at them calculatingly.

"Uh, what's up guys?"

Dorcas lifts her gaze from the arm around Regulus's shoulders, to Sirius, then turns to her friends with confirmation if they were on the same page, then back to him.

"Uh."

Very eloquent, Dorcas Meadowes.

The others and her were staring at the arm with poorly hidden envy. They never got to touch Regulus so casually besides a very rare forced hug on birthdays and they were literally his best friends!! Of years!!

James glares at the arm, seething in jealousy. He wasn't faring much better either. James has to wait or ask for permission if he wanted to touch Regulus and he thought that meant he was quite close to him!! He's the boyfriend!!

They all did, because any attempts at touching him would come with a very-mellowed out violent response. But if it were any one else, Regulus would not hold back.

But here was Sirius Black! The man Regulus hated with all his heart only a couple weeks ago! Cuddled up against their Regulus! And him looking right at home there!

And yeah, they get it, Sirius was probably Regulus's entire world growing up in a house full of assholes, so of course Sirius would have exceptions.

But what the fuck!

Barty and James groaned, Evan huffed, Pandora pouted, Dorcas just shot them a look.

Oblivious Sirius just stares at them and chooses his peace.

"Alright, I'll go bother Peter then."

Once Sirius leaves, the eyes turn to Regulus. He blinks innocently.

"You."

James says with as much accusation he could put on his voice.

"Me?"

Regulus says as he slips a hand in James'. Suddenly, James can't remember what he was mad about.

"Nothing, you look lovely."

It was now James' turn to be stared at.

Regulus black and Physical Intimacy

*Pandora struggles to catch up with regulus so she reaches a hand out to grab his shoulder*

*Regulus smoothly dodges her hand like a cat and turns around*: sorry, I was distracted, did you say something?

*Pandora stares at her outstretched hand, slightly offended*

-

*Dorcas offering a drink*: Try it, it's actually surprisingly good.

*Regulus stares at her hand that's fully wrapped around the cup*

*Grabs the bottom of the cup with a down-side up hand-claw, then corrects his grip when it's fully out of her grasp*

Regulus, completely serious: well, it smells good, can't be truly awful.

*she stares at him with partly hidden judgement*

-

Regulus: Crouch, do you remember what professor Binns meant by this phrase?

*Barty uses this chance to get physically closer, attempting to wrap a hand around regulus's shoulder*

*A stinging hex is thrown his way and narrowly misses*

Barty, sighing: well, worth a shot

-

*Evan and Regulus reading together*

*Evan raises a hand to poke at Regulus's cheek*

Regulus, without missing a beat nor lifting his eyes from the book: no

*Evan slowly retracts his hand*

-

James: regulus...

*Regulus hums in answer*

James: can I touch you?

Regulus: you know the rules, in public only I initiate.

James, whining: but you never touch me

*Regulus rolls his eyes and stretches out a hand*

*James stares at it, confused*

Regulus, obviously teasing him: Oh, so head scratches aren't enough I take it?

*James, because he's not an idiot to haggle, immediately settles under the offered hand*

[luxheroica]

under your tree (1/3)

Anyways Ekko/Jinx has made me insane and I'm not stopping. So here have fanfic about Ekko, Jinx, and the tree that I wrote in a fugue state last night. Planned part 1 of 3, the first is alternate-Powder and alternate-Ekko.

Also on AO3

----

She drags him up out of her lab, not entirely sure where to go but too jumbled up to stay. Powder’s heart is racing as she twines her fingers in Ekko’s, and she has never been happier to feel his grip strong and vital in her own. That breathless moment when he wasn't moving when she thought– she had held VI's body in the same way. 

“Where are we going?” he asks, bewildered, stumbling along behind her. 

“Just come on.”

Her feet know the path and she trusts them. While she does her mind races, all of the strangeness of the past few weeks slotting into place like a puzzle in her mind. 

His fear on seeing her, his confusion at Milo and Claggor, the way his whole face changed when he saw Benzo… the way he hadn’t known Vi was dead. She thought he was just messing with her, in a particularly cruel way, or maybe he’d lost his mind after a particularly weird dream. 

The way he’d kissed her tonight, like he was so desperate to hold on to her. 

Now it all makes sense. Something that she was beginning to suspect but didn’t think was quite possible. 

Her feet take her to the tree. Where Ekko painted his portraits of Vi. 

Vi who lives. Vi who is from some other place and time entirely. 

“What… is this?” Ekko– her Ekko– crosses to the portraits alongside her, wonderment in his eyes. “Is that Vi?”

Powder smiles. “A present,” she says. “From another you.” 

Ekko scoffs disbelieving. “Seriously, you can stop messing with me.” 

“Did you know that the competition is tomorrow?” 

Ekko whirls around. “What? No– it's weeks away!” He waits for the punchline that he knows is coming, and then scratches at his head. “Seriously? What do you mean it’s tomorrow, I thought–” 

“You had plenty of time?” 

Ekko nods. He swallows and she watches his Adams apple bob, as he takes this in. “Powder, why did I wake up on the floor of your lab?” 

“Because an alternate universe version of you took over your body for a few weeks, built a time machine that created a space anomaly, and then went back to his universe.” 

She expects him to laugh. She expects him to accuse her of making it up. Even as she says it, it sounds a little crazy. 

Ekko flops to the ground. “Huh.” 

“Yeah,” she says. She doesn't approach, doesn't touch him. Gives him time to process. 

“That is about the wildest shit I've ever heard.” 

Powder snorts. “Don't I know it. Imagine three weeks of my boyfriend acting like a lunatic, and I only now figure out why.” 

“Imagine losing three weeks of your life to an another version of you!” He scratches at his head in that way he does when he's frustrated. “I can't believe the content is tomorrow and I haven’t prepared anything!” 

Powder laughs. The Innovators Competition seems like the least of her concerns right now, but of course for him he was just thinking about it. It consumed his every thought “To be fair, while making his time travel device he maaaaybe finished your battery. It works great, by the way!” 

Ekko sits up, offense playing across his face. “He finished my designs??” Then he shakes his head. “Is it weird to be jealous of another version of myself?” 

Powder considers. And yeah she's gonna push it because she likes pushing his buttons. “Would now be a bad time to tell you he kissed me?” 

Ekko nearly chokes. 

“In my defense I thought he was you!” 

The fight goes out of Ekko, and he sighs. Lays down in the grass and looks up at the wall where Vi’s eyes from another universe look down on the both of them. “You think she’s alive, in his world?” 

Powder nods. She curls herself next to him, intertwining her fingers with his. “Yeah,” she says. “He told me about her, a bit– said it was a dream he had. Said she was the strongest fighter in all Zaun.” 

There under that tree she tells him all about the dream the other Ekko told her about, that strange world where Vi lived and was in love with a Piltover heiress of all people and she went by a different name and she and Ekko hadn't really talked in years and Zaun was still just like it used to be and maybe even worse. 

“It’s weird,” Ekko says while she talks. He rubs his forehead, his brow creasing in concentration. “It's like I can remember it, a little– while you're talking. Flashes of memory… I don't know if they're real.” 

Powder curls their fingers together. “I think alternate universes are uncharted territory for anyone.” 

Ekko snorts. “You're telling me.” He squeezes her hand reassuringly. “It’s strange. Everything I'm feeling, it all feels so sad and awful and scary… even if VI's alive so many people were dead, and we hadn't talked in forever…” he trails off, and Powder imagines it– really imagines it– that universe that other-Ekko came from and it makes her sad. “And don't get me wrong, I'm glad he left and I get to be me and not have my life hijacked by some alternate me, but…” 

Powder levers herself up. “But?” she prompts. 

“But why'd he do it?” He turns to look at her, and there's something anxious in his brown eyes. “I don't know if I could leave to a world where we never talked.” 

Powder smiles. Rolls over and kisses the bridge of his nose. They haven't said it yet but she loves him–whichever version. “Because he's you. And because they needed him, the people on the other side.” 

Ekko turns this over in his mind. “What was he like, the other me?” 

Powder scrunches her nose as she tries to think. “Like you but weird. Like, he was really jumpy at first and then he got all sentimental over weird stuff. But, he was you– just as smart, just as idealistic. Always had his head in the clouds and his nose in an equation.” 

Ekko laughs. Flicks her nose. “That doesn't sound like me at all.” 

“Oh doesn't it, Mr. Free-Energy-For-All?” 

“I still can't believe he finished my designs.” 

Powder rolls back laughing, because he sounds so indignant. He continues to glare, annoyed. And then after a minute joins her in laughter. 

“I think I saw him for a minute, at the end there.” Powder says once she's caught her breath. 

“Oh? What was he, uh…?” 

“Really hot,” she says, because she knows it's going to make him jealous but she’s also calling him hot and he can't say anything about it, and it’s such a delicious conundrum. “Kind of rugged, too– big baggy clothes and wearing war paint. Not at all a buttoned up nerd.”

Ekko rolls over, pins her to the ground like she's been goading him to do. “I'll show you buttoned up nerd,” he says, and he kisses her breathless. 

And it’s different from the way he kissed her earlier tonight. For one he knows how she likes to be kissed, knows how to tease her. But there's nothing of that delicate way he held her like she was this precious thing that could break, and she wants that intensity again. 

They stay like that awhile. Just kissing, just enjoying each other. And they don't think of other worlds where they haven't talked in years and maybe never will again. 

At last they stop, because Ekko looks at his watch and says, “Oh shit, I should get you back home!” 

Powder tickles his knee with hers, hoping to tempt him into giving in again. “We’ve got time. I said I was going to the dance.” 

“It’s almost 2am, I'm pretty sure your dads are gonna kill me.”

Powder snorts disbelieving. “Nah, they wouldn't.” 

“No, I know Silco quit being a crime boss but I'm pretty sure he still knows how to hide a body like, super good.” 

Powder kisses him again– with a little bit of tongue, for good measure– and then when she's sure he's about to give in she jumps to her feet. Ekko looks at her exasperated but fond. “Alright, genius. Let's get you home– you've got a presentation to give tomorrow.” 

Ekko groans. 

[suchine-toki]

About Takasugi's abuse

The other day (totally not months ago) we were talking with @sakukaguxxi about how Takasugi’s relationship with his bio family is overlooked in character analyses. While Sorachi didn’t delve deeply into this aspect, which isn’t inherently bad, I think it’s important for understanding why he turned out the way he did.

We know two canon facts: (1) he comes from a low-class samurai family, and (2) he’s the firstborn. This suggests his family held noble status but struggled to maintain it. As a result, they relied on him to preserve their standing, enrolling him in a military academy and being strict about how he interacted with higher-status classmates.

To enforce this, they employed harsh punishments, such as starving him, tying him to a tree and leaving him in the cold for hours, or physically hitting him with enough force to draw blood when he was just a child (~10 yo?). On top of this, the threat of disownment loomed over him constantly.

These actions indicate they didn’t see him as a person or a child worth protecting but rather as a means to an end (maintaining their status). Consequently, he grew up devaluing himself and lacking the tools to express love in a healthy way. This likely explains why he became so attached to Shouyo and Gintoki.

For Shouyo, he was probably the first and only parental figure to treat Takasugi with genuine respect. While he disciplined him, it was always treated lightly and without causing him any real harm, unlike his bio father. Shouyo provided basic necessities like food, warmth, care, but also a sense of belonging.

Regarding Gintoki, a lot can and has been said. On this topic, he may’ve downplayed or misunderstood the extent of Takasugi’s abuse. This can be inferred from his comments before meeting Sakamoto, where he jokingly implies that Takasugi is still a “daddy’s kid,” even though he knows Takasugi was disowned.

This is interesting because Takasugi mentions being disowned long ago, yet for Gintoki, it doesn’t seem so distant. The timeline is unclear, perhaps Takasugi’s father disowned him during childhood, or maybe he tried to bring him back for years until eventually giving up when Takasugi was a teenager and considered irredeemable.

Moving into non-canon territory, if we consider Takasugi Shinsaku (the historical figure) for inspiration, some gaps can be filled. He was the firstborn, had three sisters, and bore the responsibilities of being the sole male heir. His father reportedly tried to steer him away from radicalism, even arranging a marriage for him to settle down.

This aligns with a seemingly banal joke, that Takasugi owned The Portopia Serial Murder Case and a console to play it (a Famicom?). At first glance, it’s odd that an abusive family would buy him such things. However, abusive individuals aren’t cruel all the time. They can oscillate between being harsh and showing kindness, creating a cycle of manipulation and gaslighting. This could explain why it took Takasugi some time to leave, perhaps he realized they needed him more than he needed them or that they would never truly love him.

The lasting effects on him are evident. Takasugi struggles to express himself in ways that don’t involve violence, and saw himself as disposable, with no strong sense of self. He fought for Shouyo’s freedom, for Gintoki’s tears, and later, for Gintoki’s happiness. While these were his choices, they were never about himself, they were for the people he held close to his heart.

[ink-and-dagger]

Okay. Opinions on the alternate happy universe Silco for act 3? Also do you think there would be an Astrid in that universe? If so, what would she be like/her story with Silco.

Oh boy, okay, my opinion on happy AU Silco?

Lovely as it was to see him freshly bathed and enjoying retirement, he was also wildly out of character and his presence in this timeline made very little sense.

I mean, the AU timeline as a whole didn't make sense. At the time of Vi's 'death' Shimmer had already been created and deployed, yet in this AU there's zero trace of it? Singed created Shimmer for himself — a means to bring back his daughter — Vi's dying wouldn't change that. Nothing would. Plus, at this point in the story in season 1, Silco's eye and scar were already corrupted, yet in this AU his eye and scar show absolutely no sign of Shimmer treatment whatsoever?

Also, I'm sorry, but there is absolutely no universe in which Silco would forgive Vander so easily. Again, the writers have taken the lore and characterization established in season 1 — this soul-rending, utter betrayal that left a young man broken beyond repair and bordering on feral — and have carelessly erased the depth which made their stories so poignant. I can't remember who on Tumblr said this, but they were so right: If the Silco we know from season 1 had found the note that Vander left in the mines, he would have wiped his ass with it and set it on fire.

Not only would it take a monumental gesture for Silco to consider forgiving Vander, but if he did end up forgiving him he would never, NEVER, in any universe or lifetime, say the words "Greatest thing we can do in life is find the power to forgive". It's not even the sentiment of what he's saying that I'm referencing here, it's the literal words that come out of his mouth. This is not Silco's brand of cringe, and once again just demonstrates that the season 2 writers seem to have little to no understanding of these characters and weak dialogue composition to boot.

It's honestly so hard for me to even imagine what Astrid's relationship to him would be like in this AU, because to me that simply isn't Silco. It's some bizarre, superficial changeling look-a-like.

[ri-writes-if]

THE TRAINING SCENE WITH OS?! HELLO?!! The fact Laz was like "You should tap that and use it to your advantage" and he was like "nuhuh our feelings are righteous and true and I'd never do that to em"?! The boy made me like him so much that whenever I saw him on other roads I wanted to crawl back to him.

Have you ever considered making "Incorrect quotes" for the gang?

Aww! It's always a great compliment when readers say that a certain route kept them from choosing another 💛🥺 I'm glad you're enjoying their path!

I did one here. Have another one under the line

Oracle: My mom is calling… hi mom. Ash: Come on guys, stop. They’re trying to talk to their mom. Az: *loud fake sexual noises* Os: EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP! Vez: *is asleep* Laz: *gets really close to the phone* Tell her I said hi.

*

Os: How long do you think it'll take? Az: I don’t know, three or four. Os: Three or four what? Days? Weeks? Months? Az: Yeah, maybe five. Os: Five what?!

*

Oracle: *seductively takes off glasses* Oracle: Wow... Az: *blushes* Haha... what? Oracle: You're really fucking blurry.

*

Laz: You know what your problem is? Oracle: I only have one?

*

Laz: You’re alive. Az: No need to sound so disappointed.

*

Os: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Vez: 'Prettiest Smile' Ash: 'Nicest Personality' Az: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Laz: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

*

Ash: What does “take out” mean? Vez: Food. Os: Dating. Laz: Murder. Az: It can be all three if you’re brave enough.

[monstrous-femme]

None of this actually runs counter to what I said.

The situations you are describing as the hardest are the ones in which other people aren't out. As you say, living in places with threat of violence and no local community are the hardest versions of this situation, and I'm certainly not asking anyone to martyr themselves. As I said above, I don't judge anyone for their individual choices around this risk.

And yet.

When people do take the risk and come out, especially in areas like those that you speak of, it makes it safer for others. That local community can only begin to exist if people choose to take the risk, and communities have only ever become safer when we have made them so.

"If there were only three other queer kids at your school and you're already closeted to half your family" does not exactly describe the circumstances under which I came out, but there is some resonance. I was in middle school. The year was 2007. No one at my school was out, although I did have the benefit of being in a liberal area in which I knew queer adults. I came out to my family and my school in the same year, and when I did so, I was the only out person at my school.

It is not a choice I would ever ask anyone else to make. I had friends at that school who I knew were queer who chose not to come out, and I never asked them to, even though it would have made things easier for me. And I was lucky enough that I did not typically experience the threat of physical violence.

But I will also tell you that after I came out, other people at my school did too. I do believe that my choice to put myself at risk made other people safer.

People need to make their own choice, with their own judgment, but I think it is important when assessing the risk to consider how taking on some personal risk can make others safer, and conversely to practice gratitude towards others who have taken that risk and made us safer. The queer adults I knew in middle school came out at a time in which they are at a higher risk that I have ever experienced, but their choice to be out made me safer, and I am grateful to them.

Lastly, I will specifically say that this is about obeying or not obeying in advance, which to my understanding is about not obeying at the first signs of risk. It does not mean not obeying in the face of severe and imminent danger-- that's not obeying in advance, that's just obeying. And of course, the specific risks should be weighed-- an adult who can live independently has less risk than someone living with homophobic family, and it makes more sense for the first person to take on the personal risks of coming out than the second.

This is obviously a complex and nuanced issue, but hopefully some of these specific thoughts and details help convey what I was trying to get at with my post.

so the thing I haven't seen anyone say yet about not obeying in advance is that yes, it puts you as an individual at some risk! but it makes us as a collective safer, and the more people do that the more true it is!!

going back into the closet, for example, might make you as an individual safer, but the more of us who chose to stay out of the closet, the safer it is for anyone who wants to be out. the more people resist, the easier resistance becomes.

and it's scary! it's absolutely scary, and I don't judge anyone for how they individually choose to handle the risk, but I personally don't think that hiding from the risk is the answer. I think the more we choose to tolerate the risk and live authentically anyway, the safer we all are

[limbel]

last night was very interesting. i went to my friends house to hang out - backstory: she is one of my closest friends, we've been friends for literally our entire life (with a gap between age 20-26 when we didn't speak to eachother for Reasons) anyways we hang out and she doesnt know im bi (nobody really knows since i never tell anyone and im not very vocal about it irl) but flash forward to a couple of wine bottles later and we are casually having a conversation about guys and girls we would have sex with. so i guess it means we're both bi now???