#but you can certainly recapture some of that feeling

[affixjoy]

[teratosfavouritesnack]

Hi can you do a part 2 of the ghost lover boy? Like Y/n is being repeatly being bratty and the ghost starts punishing her but of course she cant see him because he's invisible?

Hiii dear, thank you for your request and sorry for the late reply! I already had half an idea how to continue this story but I tried to mix it with your suggestion. Hopefully you like it 💜

ghost x afab!human - bratty behaviour (kinda), ghost creature doing ghost things, p in v, mirror sex, use of ghost hunting tools, it talks!!! :o

ORIGINAL POST <-

You were wrong. The ghost was no lover boy, just a prankster through and through.

You don’t know exactly how you expected the dynamic to evolve after the events of that day, but you certainly didn’t think it would change so drastically and… not really for the better.

Has this been its intention from the very start? To harass you, play with you and your emotions until you surrendered and offered yourself to it , only to then take it all away? Has it only been having some fun with you and did not in fact care about you at all?

You wish you had an explanation for its sudden disappearance, but you don’t. And you’re so upset about it. So upset that you can’t find peace in your own four walls, because everything makes you think of it and all its stupid pranks. So upset, you can’t even find pleasure in touching yourself anymore because you can’t fuck your cunt the same way its fingers have, you can’t recapture that tingly, almost electricity-charged pressure you felt inside you when it pounded your hole with its hand, no matter how much you attempt to.

You’re losing your mind. It can't just give you a taste of something so delicious and addicting and then take it away a second later! It’s not fair! You need to catch its attention again, try however you can. You exasperate the things that always induced it to harass you; unashamedly bending over the furniture and waiting for it to grind against you, pushing your ass in the air as much as humanly possible whenever you’re doing the laundry, spending a longer time in the shower box hoping it would join you, walking naked around the house more times than not to give it easy access to every inch of you… You do anything to get it to touch you again but nothing seems to work. It’s as if it has completely vanished, as if it’s gone for good from your house. But somehow, you know it ’s still there. You can feel it. Watching you. Maybe laughing at you, at how desperate you look and act. It ’s mocking you, you’re sure.

Resentment merges with desperation, pushing you to buy some of those fancy gadgets paranormal investigators use on their hunts. You place sensors throughout the house and always carry a spirit box on you. You’ll catch its invisible and elusive ass one day or another, you’re sure! To what end? You don't truly know. You didn't think things through. Perhaps you just want to take a win over the ghost, instead. Annoy it, as it has done to you. But as the days pass, the sensors don’t pick up any signal, the spirit box is dead silent and you feel bluer than ever. All is calm...

Until it isn’t.

You invite people over, something you learnt in the past the ghost does not like in the slightest. But the ghost isn't around anymore, is it? You have no reason to be concerned about what it likes or not.

Except you have, because it is still here. Hiding so well from all your stupid tools. Pissed off by their presence, yet even more by the strangers you allowed inside its home. Especially that one fool who seems to orbit around you like a moth to a flame. It hasn't been this displeased in ages, and it can't keep itself hidden any longer. It needs to reclaim its possessions.

The sensors go off all at once, causing everyone to jump in their seats. You told your friends about your haunted house before, but no one believed you; now they all do as the lights go crazy and all kinds of trash is thrown in their faces, forcing everyone to rush to the exit.

Everyone except you.

You’re shocked… but also delighted. You secretly wished something like this might happen. You hoped that disregarding its desires would lead to retaliation. And when you feel that familiar thrilling touch on you again, oh you are ecstatic! Its grasp is a little rougher this time, as it grabs you around the waist and drags you all the way to your bedroom. All the way in front of your large mirror, where you watch your clothes come undone, ripped by unseen fretting hands. Where you can see one of your legs pulled off the ground and your hole stretched open by... nothing. It's mind-boggling to feel so stuffed while being unable to gaze upon the thing that makes your sensitive walls throb so desperately. When it starts to move, you realize it is the ghost who's inside you, with its cock swallowed to the hilt by your cunt. The sensation is unbelievable, so blissful, and unlike anything you've ever experienced before. You don't have any words to describe it. And even if you did, you'd forget all of them. Your mind goes blank when you feel its hand seize your jaw and turn your head downward, forcing you to stare at your hole spreading open and shrinking again as it pushes its length all the way into and then out of you in slow but deep thrusts.

Is this a punishment? Is this a reward? Is this a way to claim you as its own? To make you realize that it is in charge.That it can toy with you anytime it wants, and you have no say in the matter. Whatever does this mean... You do not care. You only care about the pleasure rising in your lower belly, the heat pervading your entire body, the exquisite pressure you feel in your womb as its cock finds that precious spot deep inside you, with one arm wrapped possessively around your waist and the other keeping your leg up.

You’re so out of it, so lost in seeking your release that your ears almost bypass the robotic beep coming from your pants, sprawled at your feet. However, the disembodied voice that follows reverberates through your entire being, instantly pushing you over the edge with a muted scream.

"Pretty. . . . Cunt. . . . All. . . . Mine. . . . . Taking. . . . Me. . . . So. . . . .Well. . . . . Made. . . . For. . . . Me."

You hope it will never leave you again, but if it does... Well, now you know how to make it come out again.

 🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me

[old-people-like-avatar]

Netflix Avatar the Last Airbender S1 - Overall Thoughts [SPOILERS]

I am a longtime fan of Avatar the Last Airbender. I did not watch it in its original 2005 run, but I discovered it in around 2010 after my good friend R.S. recommended it to me. It's been my #1 favorite TV show ever since and I have rewatched it more times than I can count. I was cautiously optimistic about NATLA.

Now, having watched the whole first season of NATLA, and looking at the season as a whole, I think the best word to describe it is uneven. I can't say that I loved it, and I can't say that I hated it. But there were things I really liked about it and things that really did not work for me. Overall, I enjoyed watching it -- if only to dissect what did and did not work about the adaptation -- and would want to watch more.

WHAT WORKED

Everything to do with Zuko and Iroh. I found myself going back through just to rewatch all of the Zuko and Iroh-related scenes. I thought Dallas Liu really nailed Zuko -- from tantrums about his journal being stolen to incredible action sequences to the boyish vulnerability of worrying about the laces on his gauntlets. He took an iconic character and made him his own. NATLA added some incredible scenes and lines to my favorite duo: Lu Ten's funeral (coupled with orchestral version of "Leaves from the Vine"); Zuko's first war council; Iroh choosing to go with Zuko on the boat; the 41st Division; Iroh putting a blanket on Zuko. And I liked that NATLA emphasized that Iroh needed Zuko in the wake of Lu Ten's death as much as Zuko needed Iroh after his mother left.

Daniel Dae Kim's interpretation of Ozai. Ozai in ATLA is kind of one-dimensional. Daniel Dae Kim's Ozai adds a deeper layer to him in that he genuinely seems to think he's doing legitimate parenting -- even going so far as to visit Zuko after burning his face and remarking, glibly, that he'll recover ("but he'll never heal," says Iroh). It adds an even more monstrous angle to his cruelty because Kim's Ozai seems to think he's doing it for his children's own good. This post perfectly encapsulates my feelings about why I thought the agni kai between Ozai and Zuko was an excellent addition to NATLA.

Zuko/Aang. These two bonding over goat hair brushes was the scene I never knew I needed. The way Aang managed to wrest a little smile out of Zuko in that scene before Zuko blew up at him for criticizing the Fire Lord? And the way that tied into the "Compassion is a sign of weakness" scene from the agni kai? Great character work.

WHAT DID NOT WORK

Dialogue. I already observed at length my dissatisfaction with the clunky, exposition-dumping dialogue in my episode-by-episode writeups. It certainly wasn't as bad as the Movie-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but . . . there was no art or subtlety to it, and no trust in the audience. A disappointment.

The GAang did not feel like family. The lack of breathing room in the 8-episode season meant that all of the "filler" episodes that fleshed out the relationships between Aang, Katara, and Sokka were sacrificed. I am not saying NATLA needed to recapture each of the filler episodes. But they needed to build the foundational bonds between the main trio with showing not telling and they really didn't. They separated them for big chunks of 2 episodes. And, really, they just felt like traveling companions. That took all of the emotional heft out of, well, everything related to Aang, Katara, and Sokka. I mean, frankly, the kid actors did a better job establishing the "family" dynamic just by being themselves in their press interviews than the show did with the characters.

Aang did not run away from responsibility. I am not one of those people that's just mad that the show wasn't exactly like the cartoon. No. What I mean is, even putting aside the cartoon, even if you just look at NATLA itself: their own themes were undercut by never showing Aang actually running away from responsibility. Each avatar seemed to be berating Aang for doing something he was never actually shown to be doing.

Katara. I really don't think this one is on the actress. Katara felt like a fundamentally different character from ATLA's Katara. It's not to say an adaption is not allowed to have their own interpretation of a character, but... I just did not understand NATLA Katara. There was no passion, no rage, no overbearing nurturing. She was... I don't know what she was. Traumatized, yes, but nothing grew out of that trauma? Meek, until the plot demanded that she suddenly become a waterbending master without any guidance other than a waterbending scroll? The "younger sister"? More than any of the main characters, I'm not sure what NATLA was trying to say about Katara at all. And, as a result, I'm afraid the word to describe it might be uninteresting. And given that she is the heart and soul of Team Avatar, this one was really tough.

Despite the fact that a lot of NATLA did not work for me, I still enjoyed it because the things that did work for me, well, really worked. So. I'm here for all of the Zuko/Iroh scenes!

[eight-littlenightmares]

whump idea: screaming

cw: recapture, screaming, gag, car, references to past trauma, young whumpee, kidnapping, a lot of swearing/vulgar language, ehh stuff like that

***

Whumpee is walking home. It’s been a few weeks since she’s escaped her kidnapper Whumper—she’d been there a couple months, hadn’t even been the worst couple months she’d ever had, especially compared to the other incident—and she’s feeling better.

Or at least that’s what she’s telling herself. Truthfully she’s just as jumpy as always.

And tonight is no exception. In fact she’s feeling even worse tonight. She’s walking home after hanging out with her best friend all day. It had been great, she absolutely loves her best friend, but she’d stayed a little later than she’d meant to and now it’s pretty dark out. She feels strangely paranoid and she’s not quite sure why.

No, she does know why. She’s been jumpy ever since her first kidnapping, two or three years ago. She’d barely started recovering from that when Whumper had kidnapped her, that bastard.

Whumpee starts walking faster. She knows she’s just being stupid and paranoid as always, but she can’t shake the feeling that she’s being watched. And also maybe followed—no, no, she’s being ridiculous.

She’s going to get home just fine, and when she does she is going to sit on a fucking counter to exposure therapy herself. (It hasn’t really done anything other than make her unreasonably anxious yet, but she’s sure it’ll work at some point.)

But then Whumpee feels something. Nothing physical, nothing at all, but just a feeling, a feeling of something being Very Wrong. She can’t help it, she starts to turn around to look—

And then hands are on her.

Someone grabs her around the waist, someone much bigger than her, with rough hands and smelling of cigarette smoke.

Whumpee reacts immediately, shrieking and kicking at her attacker.

“..stop screaming,” a voice whispers into her ear. “I told you I’d find you again.” It’s Whumper’s voice.

Whumpee goes into a fit of terror. HELL NO, she is NOT being kidnapped again, she absolutely will not stand for it. No.

She starts to scream. As loud as she fucking can, screaming her fucking throat raw. She is NOT going back. She is not going ANYWHERE except HOME.

“HELP!!!” Come on. There’s gotta be someone nearby, someone who will wake up or who is already awake, someone who will care enough to save a poor teenager being kidnapped. Right? SOMEONE WILL SAVE HER, RIGHT?

She’s so fucking sick of this. She doesn’t wanna go back and she doesn’t wanna go anywhere with anybody, especially not Whumper. While Whumper isn’t the very worst person she’s ever had to deal with, he’s certainly not someone she ever wanted to see again. Fuck this guy anyways.

“Shut up,” Whumper snaps, glancing around to make sure they’re not being follows as he drags Whumpee towards his car.

Whumpee starts to scream louder. She’s getting more desperate. She will NOT go in that car, she absolutely REFUSES.

And then Whumper pulls a piece of cloth out of his pocket and ties it around Whumpee’s head in a gag. Whumpee struggles uselessly. She tries to scream again but her voice is muffled.

Whumper forces her facedown into the backseat of the car, wrenching her arms painfully behind her back and tying them with a length of rough cord. Whumpee feels tears begin to prick at the back of her eyes as she screams her fucking heart out. It’s not enough. It’s not fucking enough.

The car door slams shut. It sounds like a nail in a coffin. Then Whumper climbs into the front seat and starts the car.

The car starts moving. Whumpee has been kidnapped. Again.

(Hello!! Author’s note!! This is technically a oneshot of one of my OCs, but you can apply it to any character!! I also do not mind if you’d like to reblog and continue the story!!)

edit: changed Whumpee’s pronouns to she/her because she’s supposed to be based off of my OC anyways :D

[dilfslover0003998]

Devotion

✯ kamisato ayato x fem!reader

➣ cw: suggestive content, feminine terms used to describe the reader, mostly fluff ;p

The comb smoothed through your hair without so much as a snarl pulling at your scalp. Your husband was incredibly gentle as he brushed through it, treating it like the most delicate silk money could buy.

He always treated you with such kindness after being gone for so long. Ayato was never one to be disrespectful or mainly mean, but he hardly had enough time to eat a meal with you, let alone brush your hair.

He’d just gotten you from your bath, which he drew, soaking you with expensive oils and soaps, refreshing your skin with moisturizers and soft creams. He caressed you almost the entire time you struggled to dress, his hands feeling every inch of skin he could before you pulled on one of his shirts.

“How are you feeling, my love?” He asked, kissing the crown of your head and standing behind you. The comb fell to your beautiful vanity, and you stood as well.

“Amazing,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his torso as he collected you in his own. “Loved.”

“Good,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your cheek. “Then I’ve succeeded.”

“Yes, you have,” you agreed, pushing him to the bed until the backs of his legs touched the mattress. He fell to the silk sheets with a huff, allowing your body to crawl on top of his. You sat in his lap, looking down at his beautiful blue eyes.

He pushed some hair he’d just cared for out of your face and pulled you into his embrace. His lips met yours, and you practically melted, your body fitting so nicely against his.

His hands held your hips, and yours had his shoulders; Ayato was already impatient from weeks of constant traveling and meetings, but he was slow with you. He was always slow. He took his time holding your body, learning every imperfection that seemed nothing short of perfect.

His lips moved from yours to kiss your chin, cheeks, and neck; he kissed anything he could immediately get to until your small laugh brought him back against the bed with a smile.

“My beautiful girl,” he sighed dreamily, rolling the both of you onto your sides. Your nose just barely grazed his as he stared in absolute wonderment. “How did I get so lucky to have such a beautiful wife?”

“Perhaps you’ll have to ask the Archons,” you grinned against his lips. “I’m sure the Almighty Shogun would know.”

“I’ll have to see what I can do,” he pulled you closer until you were back against his lips. He was rougher this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth and his hand gripping the side of your head tighter.

He maneuvered you until you were against the pillows at the top of the bed. His body hovered above yours, and he took a moment to admire you sprawled against the sheets.

“My dear,” he hummed, a sly smirk finding his pretty lips. “I fear I’m going to ravish you.”

“Your fear is my dream,” you said through shaky breaths. “Do as you please, my lord. My body belongs to you alone.”

“My, my,” he whispered, fingers pushing at the hem of his shirt on your comparably small body. “You certainly know all the right things to say. Let’s hope you don’t eat those words, hm?”

“I’d never,” you sat up enough to pull his shirt off your body, leaving you alone in your pretty lace panties. “I’ve been waiting so long for you to return to me, my lord. Every day without you is like living every day without a lung. Don’t leave again until you’ve made it so I can feel you for weeks to come.”

The Yashiro Commissioner audibly moaned at your demand before bending down and recapturing your lips. “As you wish, my love.”

[hotheadedheroprimary]

I had the craziest angst dream last night

It was based on an RP my bestie and I had been working on but, man, my brain knows how to toy with my feelings. Words cannot express how I felt after having this dream, my heart was racing. (Will do this in the form of x reader coz damn)

That day was a tragedy, a devastation to yourself and everyone who knew you. No one could have foreseen such a thing and, yet, a heavy blame was taken upon the two men who had cared for you most. You were all fresh into beginning your careers as heroes, barely a year out of graduation, and it didn't last long for you. Somehow, a group of especially dangerous villains had managed to get the jump on you. They beat you to a pulp and took you into capture, falling out of the radar and becoming completely invisible to anyone who may have had a chance to save you.

You were held in captivity for almost two years. Two years. They tormented and verbally degraded you to no end. To say it was torture was an understatement. You may as well have been crucified and left to hang amongst the vultures awaiting the sweet, bitter end to life. Unfortunately, these monsters were not merciful creatures. At first, they attempted to coax information out of you, seeing if they could unlock all of the inner workings of the pro heroes and utilise this for their nefarious deeds. When it became clear that you weren't so easily broken, they decided that you would make a decent venting dolly. You sought to escape once.

"That was a big mistake... hero."

Due to your weakened state, they quite easily recaptured you and they were not happy. They could have just killed you. Part of you wishes they did. No. Instead, they opted for a more fitting punishment: they took away your quirk. More ridicule and abuse is all that followed, is all you had to keep your wavering sanity occupied.

You felt close to your end.

An eventual rescue tore you away from your imprisonment but at what cost? You couldn't even discern the reality from a nightmare at that point. Your saviours, some heroes on the other side of the country, made sure that you were immediately admitted to a hospital. The physical wounds were in need of major attention but the mental scars ran so much deeper.

It probably would have been easy enough to call all of your friends, to ask for help from a familiar face, but a chain would heavy your hand any time you'd reach for the phone. You couldn't even bring yourself to call your two favourite boys.

With months of gruelling therapy out of the way, you now have a home - a new home - that you can call yours and a typical civilian job to keep the money coming in. You may be somewhat established back into society but you are merely a shell of what once was, a sauntering after image of the person you used to be. It had taken countless sessions just to counter your agoraphobia but a slithery vine is quick to entangle your spine any time you choose to leave your home. The darned thing clenches and digs its thorns in, threatening to jolt your head into a spasm but you always fight the urge.

That day wasn't much different. To begin with, at least.

After your usual mental prepping and throwing your cap on, you take the leap of faith from your doorstep and trudge along for your weekly grocery run. All in all, it seemed it was going to be fairly standard; weave in and out of people, make no eye contact, get the goods, and go home. It wasn't like it was late on your way back either but, with the winter season, that night was soon rolling in. You notice another set of footsteps trailing behind you, which certainly isn't helping. It could just be that pesky paranoia settling in but this person has been hot on your tail for a few minutes now. Still having some streets to go, you curse your blunder in not choosing a location more in-city. In an attempt to get home faster without displaying your fear, you ever so slightly pick up the pace. The individual appears to do the same and you are ready to run. The muscles in your calves tighten in anticipation of a quick escape.

That's when it happened: a chance encounter that reduced you to tears.

"Hey!" an all-too-familiar voice beckons from behind you.

Anxiety prickles your skin for different reasons than before. There's no way it's him. Surely not.

Oh, but it is.

The great hero Dynamight had been making his rounds in the city, keeping an astute eye out for anything amiss but also for you. It may seem outlandish for him to still be looking for you after almost three years but this is Bakugo. He's not one to give up. That's probably why he's grown more calloused in this time. He hasn’t been able to heal. To move on. The night still haunts him though he never lets that show. His cold heart had grown even heavier and colder since that day. He barely says a word - more so than usual. The man eats at himself over the whole situation. What could he have done differently? Is there actually anything he could have actually done? If he can’t even save a comrade, a person he cares so deeply about, is he even worthy of the title of hero? Perhaps that is another driving force to keep searching for you. It may seem crazy but at least he hasn't lost his hope. Not like they did. How could they all just assume you dead like that? How could they give up on a friend? A fellow pro hero? Not him. Not ever and nor Kirishima. That redhead, as much of an idiot as he may be, is the only one who stuck by Bakugo's headstrong tenacity over the years. He shakes the thoughts from his head for about the umpteenth time just that day alone.

It seemed as though it would be another afternoon of quiet. One might say that's a nice change of pace but some individuals like to be kept busy. Bakugo stopped for one of his annoying fans when he caught a flash from the corner of his eye. It almost looked like... no. It couldn't be. Wait... is it? His gaze has never once failed him before. The calls of the young boy were lost to him, his feet moved without his consent. He'd recognise that stupid hat anywhere. It wasn't even a matter of questioning the legitimacy before he was practically tailgating the unsuspecting individual. It didn't take long until it was just the two of them walking along the darkening street. His heart hasn’t beat this hard since that terrible day. He shakes his head, almost grows angry. What if it is you? What will he do? A deep breath. Just keep focusing on the task at hand - one that seems to be slipping from him the longer this cat-and-mouse chase drags out. His tracks aren't exactly subtle given how the freshly falling snow crunches and groans beneath his weight. The speed picks up and he knows he has to say something before his "prey" runs off. He has opened and closed his mouth several times to speak up to her but he backs out every time. Goddamnit Bakugo just say something. He growls to himself and closes his eyes. His fists clench beneath his gauntlets. He can’t believe he is about to do this. He must be crazy.

Finally, somehow managing to find his own voice, he calls out. "Hey!"

He didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to call out that name in case his assumption was wrong. The figure stops and slowly turns around to face him. Bakugo stares a moment longer before slowly walking over to get a closer look. His heart punches against his ribcage when he's no more than a meter in front of that familiar face. There have been some changes, of course, but he would recognise those eyes anywhere - your eyes. He looks back and forth between them before letting out a deep sigh and shaking his head. He closes his eyes and rests a hand on her shoulder, an action that is hesitant but proves the reality of your existence at this moment. All he can do is keep his eyes closed as everything tries to catch up to him. Eventually, he takes in a deep sigh and slowly looks up at you. His expression holds a mixture of sad and relived and some exhaustion like he just got done with a war.

"How long, (Y/n)?"

At first, you haven't a clue what he's talking about until it hits you like a steel pipe to the cheek. You had gotten so caught up in the situation, Katsuki Bakugo slowly trailing towards you with an unease you had never witnessed in him before. Not like this. A million and one thoughts spurry around your head but, at the same time, you are also completely blank. Crimson eyes pierce right into your soul, attempting to coerce your tongue for the words but still nothing. You can't help the nausea in your stomach when it dawns on you just how mad he may get. You already envision the blade of his teeth slicing through you.

"They... I was discharged from a hospital in Hachinohe almost... almost four months ago."

It all comes down on him like a sack of bricks. Understandably, he is pissed - unequivocally burning in damnation of the truth that you are alive and have been roaming the streets for so many months and against his knowledge no less. It doesn't matter if he had been in the middle of a battle; he would have been there for you in a heartbeat. Growing more painful, he rubs at the migraine pounding against his temples. He wipes his forehead as if making up for the fact that there are no tears to dry. He doesn't know how to cry right now. The pressure and strain amidst his palms shake his nerves to no end.

"And you didn't call?!" he screams over his crackling throat. "I would have come for you! We would have come for you!"

How could you call? You were so sure that everyone was better off without you, that you weren't needed in their lives. By the time you had been freed, everyone had become more well-established heroes in society. They don't need you. They moved on. That's how you thought of it, at least. Your attempted explanation of this only angers him further but he breathes past the frustration when he realises how worked up you're getting. What happened to you for you to think such awful things?

"I'm not sure where you got this narrative of not being needed," he sighs and looks away. "Do you have any idea what it has been like without you, dumbass?"

The old nickname slips off his tongue so naturally. He'd always call everyone an idiot, stupid, nerd ironically enough, but dumbass? That was reserved for you and for you only, so for it to be said - to be heard - after two years breaks you.

It had been quite a sight, watching you crumble down to the snow-covered floor. He had knelt down, waiting for you to calm down enough to form coherent sentences again. As cohesive as you could against the waves of rainfall spilling from your face, anyway. When things had eventually calmed, he took you back to your apartment and gave you the chance to speak. You managed to tell him little about what you had been through. Each sentence dwindled beneath the weighing sickness that bubbled in your throat any time you tried to get into detail. One thing really stood out to Bakugo, however. He envisioned the mass murder of those bastards for having done this to you, for rendering you quirkless and making you believe such self-deprecating lies.

That was two days ago. Bakugo insisted on you staying around his just to keep an eye on you. You know better than to refuse his help and it's for his own piece of mind as well as yours. He even took the liberty of calling off work for the rest of the week just to make sure you're okay. He never does that, which is probably why a certain redhead is standing at his door, wide-eyed, gawking at you. Once he had caught wind of Bakugo's absence at the agency, he raced over to make sure everything was okay. He could have never anticipated seeing you. The two of you stare at one another, unable to say anything. You take a stand and open your mouth to say something, anything, but the wind is pushed from your lungs when Kirishima gulps you up into his arms. He cries. God, this man cries and sobs with no yield as he just holds you. Restraints don't appear to exist anymore and you spill again, clutching onto him with unceremonious content. He doesn't ask any questions and just weeps into your shoulder, fearing the worst if he were to let go.

Everyone else had assumed you were dead. Why wouldn't they? After two, almost three, years, why would you believe a person to still be alive? Not them. They kept looking, searching, and scouring every last mineral in this damn country to try and find you. Now they have you back in their lives? They swear by All-Might that you will be waited on, pampered, loved, and cared for until they see the remnants of your old self again. It will take time but they waited this long for you, right?

No time in the world is more worth it.

It's probably worth mentioning that I could very clearly hear the chorus to Childish Gambino's song 'Heartbeat' when Kirishima went in for the hug and now it's stuck in my head.

I should also probably work more on WSA but I think I need to do a few one-shots just to get me back in the groove. I hope you enjoyed and sorry if it feels a bit rushed in some areas :')

Did I proof read it? Unfortunately not.

[ohblahdo]

Coming Up/Starting Over

Thinking about the dialogue between Paul and John in McCartney II and Double Fantasy: 'Coming Up' is a song addressed to a friend who wants "a love to last forever" (a reference to Don't Let Me Down) as well as "peace and understanding" (Give Peace a Chance, etc.), in which the speaker is offering reassurance: I am that friend, I want to help, hang in there and things will get better. "Never fade away" could be construed as a Buddy Holly reference (to "Not Fade Away"), and while 'searching' is a common verb, it's also the name of the song Paul always refers to when talking about the Cavern days. There might be other references I'm missing, but it's very much a song about music, which is underlined by the video, in which Paul plays different musicians (including himself as a Beatle), as well as by the extra lyrics in the live version ("I know if we could get together, we'd make music endlessly"), and the fact that Paul talks about 'coming up' as a radio reference ("coming up on the hour" - also in the live version).

Put that together, and I think it's both a friendly message to John - hi, I'm still your friend - and an invitation to make music together again. If you see it as a more romantic relationship, then obviously there could be other subtext there, but the basic idea is the same either way. (Invoking "Don't Let Me Down" to say "actually, ours is the love that lasts forever" ten years later can be seen as both bitchy and wildly romantic in a way I find kind of charming.)

This isn't a new idea, but it's interesting to think about John's songs as a response to that. First, there's "I Don't Wanna Face It", which the Beatles Bible says he started in 1977, but which clearly had a pretty overt musical reference to Coming Up incorporated into it when he reworked it in the summer of 1980. It was apparently the first song he recorded for Double Fantasy, and no matter which way you read it, if Coming Up is a question, I Don't Wanna Face it answers it with either "no" or "no, and fuck you".

But that isn't actually where the conversation ends, because John decided not to put that song on the album. Instead, one of the last songs he wrote for Double Fantasy was "(Just Like) Starting Over". I don't discount the idea that the song reflects his feelings for Yoko, or that he wrote it to better fit the narrative of the album, but I'm always a fan of the idea that a song or a work of art can say more than one thing at a time. I do not think that John, in the late 70s or 1980, would accidentally reference Paul's band and two of his singles in his lyrics without realizing it ("it's time to spread our wings and fly, don't let another day go by, my love"). Also, just as Coming Up is a meta song, so is Starting Over: I see your Buddy Holly, and I raise you an Elvis. And where I Don't Wanna Face It is a 'no', Starting Over feels like a 'yes' - the whole song is him asserting that he doesn't want to give up on a relationship. And maybe the yes has nothing to do with romantic love and everything to do with music - that would certainly make sense, both in relation to the songs themselves and to where John and Paul were musically and personally (both making albums that were, on some level, about recapturing their love of music, and allegedly considering working together on Ringo's album). Or maybe they were having wild sex in motels all over Long Island, idk. But the existence of the dialogue itself interests me, and it's nice to think of it ending on a positive note given what came next.

[whumpshaped]

anon asked:

Okay but imagine whumpee who thinks they’ve successfully escaped whumper. They’ve been free for months & finally start to trust caretaker. (Maybe even some romantic feelings are blossoming.) Unfortunately for them it’s all been a ploy. Caretaker is actually apart of whumpers team— has been all along, and they’re about to walk them right back into the lions den.

Bonus points if caretaker actually developed feelings for whumpee but they need the money they’re getting from whumper more

---

tw bad caretaker, betrayal, recapture

“Almost there?”

“Almost there.”

Whumpee giggled excitedly, never questioning the blindfold or the strange route they were taking. It was their six month anniversary, after all, and Whumpee had always known Caretaker to be a hopeless romantic. 

The poor fool. 

It was impossible not to feel at least a little bad for them. Right? Caretaker was good at this, they knew how to compartmentalise, they knew who was a work associate, a target, and who was a person they could form a genuine connection with. Whumpee belonged to the first group, as adorable as they were.

Caretaker sighed. This was so stupid. Why were they thinking about those lazy mornings they’d spent together? All the stacks of pancakes they’d shared, with a disgusting amount of syrup on Whumpee’s portion? Why were they thinking about the walks they’d gone on, the hikes they’d planned but never got around to doing, the stupid fireflies they’d admired on particularly dark nights?

“I can take the blindfold off, if it’s too bothersome to bring me all the way there with it on,” Whumpee said suddenly, bringing Caretaker back into the present. Fuck, why did they have to sound so considerate and uncertain?

“No, it’s not that. I’m just a little out of breath,” they lied effortlessly, topping it off with a chuckle that sounded embarrassed enough to make Whumpee laugh. They loved to make Whumpee laugh a little too much.

“That can’t be it! You’re always on my ass about how you won’t bring me on hikes if I get tired from the walks we go on!” 

“Well, I’ve been manoeuvring you around this whole time! Cut me some slack!”

“I will, once I see this great big surprise.”

Caretaker swallowed. “I certainly hope so.”

It was fine. It wasn’t like they could ever start a real, honest relationship anyway. At least this way, the break up will also come with a cheque to help them forget about it.

[latibvles]

fix the unfixable.

a bit late but for the next prompt “injured” i was, ahem, enabled into some POW Camp angst by somebody *cough* @thoughpoppiesblow *cough* so here’s that: post-Münster featuring June, Viv, & Lena through Lena’s eyes. No one said i had to go in order of occurrence for these so we are skipping around because it’s fun. General warning for the mistreatment of POWs & discussion of character death, although we don’t get especially detailed about it! Better safe than sorry.

—

“This is bullshit.”

“June.”

“What?! S’not like they can understand me. This is all fucking bullshit.”

Lena’s mouth feels like it’s been stuffed full of cotton: not just because of the lack of solace she can provide, but also because the last spot where they had water was the transit camp. Then they’d been subjected to more of a train, more walking — screamed at when they falter in a language Lena vows to never, ever learn.

And Viv was taking it like a champ the whole time — indifferent in the face of their screaming, chin jut out in silent defiance and refusing help from either her or June up and until she stumbled getting off the train and June had pretty much tossed her body over her own, screaming ‘She fell! She fucking fell!’ in the face of red-faced screaming guards and barking, feral dogs.

Lena stood there, feeling stupid and helpless in all the ways that actually mattered.

They pointed guns in their faces and for a moment Lena thought she would be doing the rest of this journey alone. 

Now they’re half-carrying her, because it doesn’t take a genius to know that whatever’s up with Viv’s ankle isn’t going to be pretty if they ever get the chance to look at it — and the tumble off the platform certainly didn’t help. Viv’s head is both bloody and bowed in unshakable concentration as she tries to keep the weight off it.

Okay, so June’s right, this is bullshit. It’s cold, they’re all bruised and battered and cut to hell, Lena’s fairly certain they’re the only ones that made it out of their fort alive, and the one person she’s known to stand tall no matter the circumstances can’t even use both legs right now. Sudden movements mean getting shot though, so as much as she wants to scream — she doesn’t. She just tightens her grip on Viv, and prays to whatever God might be listening that she and June can make a half-decent pair of human crutches.

Lena hates it; she hates that there’s nothing she can do to fix this.

That’s her job, isn’t it? Fixing things — the electrical problems in their plane, engine troubles, keeping them in the air so the pilot could get them home. Well they were on the ground, now, birds with clipped wings and boulders tied to their ankles. Any attempt to escape would be pointless. And even if they tried, it wasn’t like they’d make it very far, tired and hungry like this, behind enemy lines. What would more likely occur would be they’d get recaptured by some German farmer and be tossed right back into this POW carousel.

The last person who’d tried to run had been shot, his body tossed carelessly onto the train car, and all Lena could think was that leaving his body on the side of the road would’ve been kinder. That’s probably why they chose to toss it onboard.

Lena was never the superstitious type. She didn’t bring any good luck charms on a mission or say any prayers. She complied with the crew’s tradition of smacking the top of the doorframe where they hung Viv’s old PT shirt, the Pallas Athena acting as a flag and a “good luck charm” according to Inez. She’d never believed that either.

But it had to be some type of karmic thing. You go up while your two anchors have to sit the mission out, in a fort that isn’t yours ‘cause yours is too banged up to see the sky right now. Maybe it was God striking their plane down, or guiding the rocket that took out one of their engines.

She couldn’t fix the unfixable — she wasn’t Josie or Willie. Lena could only ever fix the things she could see, and there was no solution here beyond a bullet to the head, maybe.

Viv winces as she stumbles in her attempt to keep off her bad foot, a sharp and quiet sound, and Lena’s jaw clenches.

“Could always get on my back, Captain.” She murmurs.

“M’fine.” On the opposing side, June scoffs.

“You hit your head or something? She’s too heavy.” Lena’s brows furrow, and her lips tug into a frown.

“I could try.”

“They’d shoot you first for sudden movements.”

“And if they do?”

“Don’t you start playing fucking hero too,” June hisses, but there’s a crack to her voice that nearly kills Lena. Birds with clipped wings, or wounded dogs? Some bodies never make it out of the plane and the ones that do don’t always hit the ground.

And they knew that, distantly, and personally, but now they knew that fact intimately.

“Guys, really, it’s fine. Just a slip.” Viv’s voice is still scratchy and hoarse from days without use — solitary confinement will do that to a person. Lena feels guilt settling in her own aching, tired bones, and looking across to June, the sentiment seems to be shared.

“Sorry Cap,” Lena sighs out quietly, and June mumbles a similar, garbled apology. But that's not even the half of it. She wants to splutter a million apologies for a million different things — I'm sorry we had to bail, and I'm sorry I can't carry you, and I'm arguing in your ear, and you'd probably want anyone but me with you right now, and—

Viv shakes her head, and although she smiles, it barely reaches her eyes.

“S’like being back in the air,” she insists. “When you all start arguing about something stupid over the comms…” She trails off, and the silence between the three of them is so loud in that moment that it almost pushes Lena to tears. They're wounded in every way a person could be, and for Lena, that fact alone is humiliating. “That’s a no-go on the piggyback ride though. Save your strength.”

Ahead of them, one of the officers shouts what Lena can only assume is something akin to Shut up, Bomber Bitch all encompassed in one word in German.

Lena cranes her head up to try and see over a few of the heads and get a gauge of where they’re walking to. If it’s another train or car, she might just lose her mind.

Metal wire, wood posts, fences miles high and towers looming over them and touching the slate gray sky. Before Lena can even try to make out what the signs say, the gates are being pushed open, and the rattling is only overpowered by a long, low siren that sends a chill up her back and has Viv lifting her head once more — just barely.

That’s when the shouting starts all at once — loud and low, names and what Lena assumes are nicknames being hurled at them and the group they’re walking with. She can barely make sense of the numbers and names being shouted at her. Johns and Joes and Smiths. She doesn’t recognize any voices sticking out amongst the din, even if she can pick out a few of the sentences.

“Shit, more broads?”

“They don’t got their own camp?”

“Hey blondie, what group you ladies with?!”

Lena looks at June, who’s jaw looks so clenched her teeth might crack, and she wonders if the trembling comes from her own legs trying not to give out or if it’s from the effort not to say something that’ll get them in more trouble the moment they make it down this endless corridor. She contorts her own arm, just for a moment, to pat at June’s where they’re looped around Viv.

“Lena!” For a moment, she’s convinced she’s hearing things. Certainly not her, there’s gotta be another— “Red! Cuh-mahn O’Flannigan, over here!”

She’d recognize that accent anywhere, and even if she didn’t, there was only one group of guys who’d had the misfortune of giving her an itemized list of god awful “nicknames.” Her head whips this way and that until she finds them — and it takes everything in her not to let out a strangled cry of relief at the sight of Crank right by the fence. Harrie Morgan’s practically climbing on top of him, wild-eyed and hollering so nonsensically Lena can hardly understand her.

“Lena! Juney! Holy shit— that you Cap?”

Between them, Viv lets out a noise that sounds like something between a laugh and a sob.

“Though ya got lost! Inez, c’mere!” Lena waves her free arm dismissively, a promise of we’ll come to you posed on her tongue — but that’s not exactly what comes out as Viv begins to feel heavier and heavier on their shoulders.

“Gonna need some extra hands! We got precious cargo over here!”

[borom1r]

I am as always late to the ask game (time zones smh) BUT

Headcanons about Marlott’s Bedlam years?

Also for Marlott, it always makes me laugh in season 1 how he let Flora sleep in his bed and just. Never took it back. Eventually set up a wee cot in the other room because presumably Old Scarred Ill Man + Uncomfortable Chair is Not a good combination. But man was having bat fucking insane dreams/visions that whole time and I’m like. Did Flora ever see the nightmares? How did she feel about all this? She never felt unsafe there (up until the end) but she must have witnessed SOMETHING.

And one for Aramir because I woke up feeling like a Trash Can Man: in your general whump Situation (illness or injury or both), which one is the worse patient? XD

I think like obviously Flora HAD to have seen his nightmares + I think she just kinda let him have his space about it?? like he’s not going to trouble her with the nightmares of an old man, least of all when she’s got her own trauma. like I can’t imagine she was sleeping particularly well at first either, so I do kind of imagine she’d go wake him up if she could tell the dream was particularly bad. then at least they can sit together instead of being miserable alone. share some 2am post-nightmare tea in tired silence.. she’s probably fallen back asleep leaning against him before (and the realization that like. oh. he’s inadvertently wound up with a surrogate daughter, hasn’t he? and she trusts him enough to fall asleep around him. oooooo that would hit Hard)

+ Bedlam years…… good question actually?? like Hervey has him institutionalized + visits the cell after John escapes but iirc the doctor implied John got dropped off and Hervey never fuckin came back to visit which is. like MAY have been a lie bc he was talkin to Nightingale but considering Hervey’s miraculous return to society, I don’t think so? which means John was completely alone, catatonic, for however many years. undergoing electroshock therapy and like. who knows what else.

and it’s like. he could escape. 1) he was plenty aware of his surroundings with Hervey, enough to kill a man and orchestrate his escape there and 2) he’s fully strong enough to rip chains out of the wall. he could’ve escaped earlier. so the question I think really comes down to what triggered his catatonia? bc Hervey is not a particularly kind or forgiving man, and his weird obsessive god complex “I could never let you die” shtick seems to develop (mostly) in season 2 after John escapes. I.E. when John begins to exceed his expectations. bc Hervey was fully content with the idea of dumping John in a cell to rot for eternity. Another failed experiment stored away + forgotten in pursuit of bigger, better things

(th god complex IS there in season 1 but again, as soon as John “fails” in his eyes, tries to escape, any feigned care/concern is Gone)

+ with the catatonia thing, 1) was it a response to the treatments in bedlam to protect himself by dissociating his mind from his body. or, was it 2) sth triggered by however the hell Hervey reacted when he found and recaptured John. because he certainly was not happy, and Hervey is notttt above harming those who disappoint him (he’s certainly not above harming those he claims to care about either, though more in the manipulative mental sense).

HM. Boromir for sure. Aragorn was raised in Rivendell, his foster father is a renowned healer, like he may Complain about it but he knows when he needs to take it easy.

Boromir would HATEEEEE being sick most of all bc at least an injury is like. a tangible external thing? sickness he would try to power through until he collapses or sth. Aragorn sitting next to his husband in bed, tending to him after he tried to take care of some papers and passed out at his desk like “you are a nightmare. do I need to lock you in our rooms to make you rest???” (Boromir fully threatens to climb out a window before being hit by the worst coughing fit ever).

I think an injury, he’s more willing to rest bc if he fucks up the healing process it may permanently affect his ability to move/fight (depending on where/how severe ofc— he will fully just Ignore a minor injury and go about his day. as long as it doesn’t get infected he’s fiiiiiiiiineee)

[joltai-showa]

ah shit here we go again, let's reread Naruto again

reading it in official English translation for the first time and really have no idea if it's good or not lol (I've been translating MHA for 5 years straight and official English translation from the same company fucking sucks)

chapter 1 is huge as hell, which is normal for Shonen Jump, mangaka needs to introduce the concept and characters and all yada yada

what I find really funny about Naruto is a lot of the stuff is written backwards (meaning, we have some stuff introduced early on, but then more shit is slapped on top) to the point that pre-Shippuden things directly contradict what is going to be stated later. Kishimoto most of the time gave approximately zero shit about things outright not making sense and, y'know, you gotta respect him for that, cause I don't have balls like that

(unfortunately when writing anything canon-compliant in Naruto you have be mindful of things being rewritten and outright not making sense💀)

Anyway enough yapping, very first page is already ripe with shit that is going to be retconneced later

Firstly, description of Kurama's abilities. Naruto's orange puppy certainly can not start tsunamis and landslides with just his tails, lmao, this is something closer to Ten-Tails. If the terrain allows it, sure, I can see him starting a landslide, but orange puppy isn't starting anything in the seas, he's got siblings with lesser number of tails for that haha.

Secondly, the entire second paragraph feels like a fever dream honestly. "Suffering people gathered the shinobi clans to fight this menace" = Konoha was founded as a way to stop the endless tiny conflicts between the shinobi clans living in the Land of Fire (why have small-scale conflicts between each other when you can have literal world wars with the guys from beyond the border lol, jk, I know Hashirama wanted a peaceful future for the kids, but ultimately hidden villages system solves none of the issues of the previous system besides "7 year olds die on the battlefields" because now we have "15 year olds die on the battlefields"), Kurama literally wanted nothing to do with humans (as far as we know) during the warring states period, he was literally frolicking in some meadows and eating weird twins from to-be Kumogakure, got captured by Uchiha "read some mossy stone that my clan carried for years for some reason and went totally delulu" Madara, was used to attack Konoha, got bitch slapped by Hashirama a few times before Mito stuffed him into her stomach. And people are surprised why is the orange puppy so evil most of the manga lmao. But anyway, the entire sentence also implies that Fourth Hokage had some sort of mega-epic showdown with the evil puppy... while in reality it was something closer to Konoha's nuke being stolen by a delusional angry fourteen year old and Minato had to simply recapture the nuke again.

anyway, that was a long-ass rant lol

love the early style, it's so goofy, Kakashi is especially wonky in it

first question: why are we tying up school kids after they are caught for their terrible pranks? what is the educational idea behind this thing? like, i get doing that on the training field, imitating combat and all, but why do the same thing in the classroom? is it supposed to encourage the kids to learn how to run away after being tied down by some ropes?

(if that's the case i guess i know at least one academy student who always failed this task, yeah, looking at you, rin, i'm sorry, i can't hold myself back from bashing that thing, lmao)

anyway, back to the manga, i really love how it mentions that Naruto flunked this exam two times already (and it's not stated how often this exam is, so I guess yearly?), and only graduates at like 13, which is supposed to be a super late age and Naruto is such a lazy bum for that... but then you realize the funny fact that Naruto's classmates aka "genius" Sasuke, "book-smart" Sakura, team Asuma and team Kurenai are all the same age as him. Lmao. This isn't the first time Kishi will forget about this silly thing called "timeline".

let's... not adress this gag.

AHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH.

Naruto, allow me to introduce you to this wonderful concept called "nepotism". It's quite common in your village. Second Hokage was First's younger brother, Third Hokage was the student of the Second, Fourth Hokage is the student of a guy who studied under Third, Fifth is literally both the granddaughter of First and a student of Third, Sixth is the student of Fourth and you, Naruto, is the son of Fourth and the student of Sixth.

I absolutely love how early Naruto is trying to be this story about this poor underdog when in reality our MC is the nepobaby to ever napobaby lol. I think only Iwa beats Konoha at having the most absurdly nepotistic system for Kage, because 3 out of 4 Tsuchikage are directly related to each other through blood and the one guy that isn't happens to be the teacher to Third.

(I do remember there was so bullshit about Kazekage clan or something but I think it's pretty much only a title and only Rasa and Gaara are actually related to each other through blood)

>badge of adulthood

>given to literal 9-13 year olds who can't throw a kunai in a straight line

yeah, you know what, this actually checks out.

you immediately know that mizuki is fucking evil when he says "nah let him pass iruka, he managed to produce a single shitty clone, he's totally not gonna be killed after 30 seconds on the battlefield" like WHAT IS THIS SYSTEM OF EDUCATION

also another good question to the world building: does Konoha have other schools besides Academy? Like, what do kids do if they don't want to pursue military career? Their parents hopefully teach them how to read and count and that's it? I mean, Konoha is a military settlement at the end of the day, but they can't be teaching only guys who will be throwing knives at each other?

absolutely nothing, naruto, lmao. you were born a nepobaby, prepare to have an endless supply of chakra for any tricks of yours and the best senseis Konoha has to offer.

is the Hokage building supposed to be their residence as well? huh.

also let's not talk about this gag.

comically large kurama jpeg

[cinemaseeker]

Let's Review: Barbie

FAIR WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Barbie.

No other singular female name invokes quite as many various feelings, to such varying degrees, as Barbie. And very few names are quite as ubiquitous as Barbie (no really, name anyone you know who's never owned a Barbie at least once in their lifetime). And as with any ubiquitous entity, people are going to try and take their best shot, hoping to bring them down to our level.

Make no mistake, this movie is meant to reintroduce Barbie to a new generation of consumers. You will, more likely than not, want to buy a Barbie doll or other Mattel product either before or after watching this movie, either for yourself or for any child you know. This movie effectively serves as a mass market rebranding of Barbie, pivoting her from the poster girl for unrealistic body image/impossible feminine beauty standards to a vehicle for individuality and female empowerment.

Barbie is now all things to all people (anyone can be Barbie!), but all those things are still Barbie. However, as most of us know, a friend to all is a friend to none. If you are all things to all people, then you are effectively nothing, an empty vessel for others to project themselves onto. And indeed, even this new re-vamped Barbie can be validly viewed as a vapid vehicle for the consumer's own dreams and desires, leaving very little to no room for Barbie to have any dreams of her own.

And yet this movie still dares to ask: can a corporate capitalist product, whether it's a mass marketed toy or a Hollywood movie starring that toy, ever be a good thing, a force for positive change? Can subversive feminist messages stick stronger with audiences, especially its youngest and most impressionable viewer, if we cover it in a pink candy coating? Just give it a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down?

After all, this new Barbie now comes with her own existential crisis and has to deal with scary realities such as cellulite, aging, and *gasp* FLAT FEET (a hilarious bit of family-friendly body horror).

Not to mention a growing awareness of mortality.

To answer Barbie's question: yes. Yes, I do think about dying. We all think about dying at some point. And perhaps more importantly, our kids are starting to think about dying. I would not be surprised if there is even a single kid out there who has asked this question during playtime through their own Barbie. And for many good reasons. The world is a mess right now. Don't even get me started.

It feels like kids and adults alike are more anxious than ever and this new Barbie can certainly relate to that anxiety, even if it's not necessarily her own (it belongs to the girl playing with her). But it turns out that it's the girl's mom Gloria (America Ferrera) who's really struggling and needs Barbie's help, if only by using Barbie as a means of working through her own dissatisfaction as a working wife and mother.

This movie reminds us that we don't stop worrying about things just because we grow up. If anything, we find more things to worry about as we get older. But adults often don't get the same kind of comfort that we give to children; we're just supposed to suck it up and tough it out, but sometimes all we wanna do is stay in our rooms and play with our toys, just like we did when we were kids. Especially if we're girls, since the world is significantly much harder for us to deal with in a society that constantly polices and critiques girls and women (Gloria's speech about the impossible, and often double, standards imposed upon women is a highlight of the movie and should be required viewing for all humans)

But Barbie helps us feel like kids again.

Throughout the entire movie, Greta Gerwig and her team manage to recapture the joy of playing with Barbies with an obviously loving attention to detail. Barbie Land is that now-rare fantasy world that doesn't require a factual explanation but runs on a strong engine of internal logic that makes sense if you've ever played with dolls.

But enough about Barbie.

What about the men?

They're the ones who really have it rough here. Having to deal with all this girly stuff.

Now guys, this might come as a shock, but this movie might not be made for you in mind and therefore you may not get it. You may find yourself confused about why women in this movie are hogging the spotlight and not letting the men do anything important.

But, it's okay, don't worry guys, Ken's got you.

Barbie may be the star, but Ken gets the real emotional journey here. You see, he keeps getting friend-zoned by Barbie, who would rather hang out with her girlfriends and maintain her autonomy than spend the night with him. But once he follows Barbie into the Real World and discovers a magical society where men are in charge and women have to respect them, Ken brings some of these ideas back to the Kens in Barbie Land, thus subjugating all the Barbies to the awesome new patriarchal rule of "Kendom".

Now every night is guys' night.

Folks, go give bonus points to whoever had "Ken gets a villain arc" on their 2023 Bingo card. And while you're at it, add an extra 5 if they also included "Ironic use of a Matchbox Twenty song on the Barbie soundtrack".

Ken's story arc is a powerful reminder of why it's important to critique feminism when it doesn't work.

After all, Barbie Land's matriarchy may seem utopian at first glance, and may even be super inclusive to Barbies of all shapes and races and abilities, but ultimately it is exactly the same as our real world patriarchy, only gender-swapped, with women holding all the power and men being treated as useless accessories. This doesn't balance the scales, it just tips them all the way in the other direction. The only way to achieve true equality is for both men and women to have equal power in society. A conclusion that, thankfully, the movie reaches on its own by the end.

And although Barbie shouldn't have to apologize for not wanting to spend time with Ken or for prioritizing time for herself and her friends, I do appreciate that she was able to make things right with Ken without having to fix things with a kiss or kowtow to his desire to make her his girlfriend. Instead she helps Ken realize that he needs to figure out who he is outside of Barbie, cutting right to the root of toxic/fragile masculinity, which is usually the result of men with low self-esteem just wanting to be heard and respected.

But while Ken is hilariously drawn as a pouty, mostly innocent man child who just wants to be loved (ideally by Barbie), it's a lot harder to laugh off his antics when they result in the Kens actively stripping away constitutional rights and taking over the Supreme Court of Barbie Land. This moment especially should hit just a little too close to home and inspire us to take action.

Thankfully, this movie is not only entertaining and hella meta, but also serves as a practical instruction manual for how girls and women can deal with toxic men and take their power back, whether it's from men in power or obnoxious film bros who constantly espouse the virtues of films like The Godfather and the Snyder cut of Justice League (there's nothing wrong with enjoying these movies, just don't be a dick about it).

It has been a long, time honored tradition in Hollywood for "chick flicks", which is usually code for female-centered films, to be looked down on and mercilessly mocked while elevating more masculine movies to prestige levels. Hopefully Barbie will be the movie that helps us see that "chick flicks" can be just as powerful and impactful as "dick flicks" and then help us reclaim hyperfemininity in our fight against the patriarchy.

After all, would it really be the worst thing in the world if the revolution was not only televised, but also pink?

Listen, if you laugh during this Barbie movie and it happens to make you question and effectively challenge the patriarchy, then all the better.

So will Barbie be that radical watershed movie that inspires a whole generation to believe that the future truly is female or will it just pay lip service to a feel-good you-go-girl message while still maintaining the status quo?

As with any seed we plant, the best we can do is nurture it, give it time, then wait and see what grows.

Come on, Barbie. Let's go party.

[faelune-home]

FFXIVWrite 2024 #21: Shade

(A/n: Another sort of interaction piece for the role quest series, this time G'raha and Hien. Both my ranged quests so far have had this allusion to G'raha's long life and former duties and the weight that would leave on him...idk why, I think it just pairs well with Hien's troubles in the quest series, despite being a young man only new to the position of responsibility.

Having a duty of care to people as a leader, but also having to cope with the losses even if they're out of your control, but people also feeling like you shoudl've known how to prevent it.

Keeping this one short due to the time left to write but also, as I said last time, I already make these so long I should embrace the shorter writings as well.

Word count: 966)

It was a night not dissimilar to the night before the siege and recapture of Doma Castle - Hien sat by candlelight nursing a cup of sake, ruminating. The only difference was that there was no war on the horizon, no buzz of anticipation, just a heavy dread and uncertainty over a foe they couldn’t find.

And he was alone. No companions to join him and share in his musings. Yugiri was on patrol duty with her shinobi and Gosetsu…well.

He had a lot to think about - the fears of his people, the conflict in those that lost their loved ones to the Garleans, loved ones that never came home after conscription. Haunted by shades, and surely Minato had to count herself - the only reason she became their blasphemy was because he couldn’t ensure her beloved could return home.

In some way, he wanted to argue back, call out the unfairness of it all - he was only one man, and he couldn’t do everything. For all his training, he couldn’t face down the Empire on his own, lest he be cut down like his father before him. He couldn’t storm the camps and save the people all on his own.

But he couldn’t do that. A prince can’t argue back. As the figurehead of the people, he had to hold his head up and atone for the losses under his name.

A creak of the wood outside his room startled him from his thoughts. His door was still closed but he could hazard a guess at who it was - the servants and the shinobi knew where the weak spots were.

Indeed when he strode across the room and opened the door, G’raha jumped back at his arrival, looking sheepish to have been caught.

“My apologies, my lord, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he started.

“Not at all, I wasn’t even sleeping. Too much on my mind. Why are you awake?”

“I just…to be honest, sleep eludes me as well. I feel as though there’s more I should be able to do, more names to search through, and I can’t find rest until I do,” G’raha sighed, tail lashing behind him. “I got up for a drink. I didn’t want to bother your people at this late hour.”

Thinking it over, Hien dared to step aside, inviting access to his quarters, and asked, “Would sake do? Perhaps we can share our burdens together. Though if you’d prefer water instead, I can get you some.” G’raha’s ears perked up, surprised at the offer, but he nodded.

“Nay, I’ll manage with the sake. Thank you, my lord.”

Even once they’d settled down, chat was idle at first, Hien trying to find out how his guest had settled during his time at the Enclave before broaching the subject properly.

“If I may,” he said, finally making the move, “I obviously do not know you truly beyond what little Fhara told me, but I get an impression off of you.”

“Oh?”

“Like you’re much more experienced than one of your years would suggest. The way you take on the burden of the lost prisoners, the transformed peoples, as though it is something already familiar to you in some way. Am I wrong?”

G’raha sipped from his cup, then placed it down, letting Hien refill it again, giving him time to think of a response.

“You’re not wrong. Though forgive me if it isn’t something I would like to go into detail on. But yes, I’ve certainly lived a life experiencing loss, and feeling the burdens of one responsible for many peoples. Much like yourself.”

Hien downed his own cup in one go, but forewent a refill.

“I wouldn’t pry into your personal matters. But knowing we are of similar experiences, I would ask some advice of you. Though maybe it is less advice I ask for, and more just solace, given our current times.”

A flick of the ear.

“Whatever it is, I’ll provide what aid I can.”

“As it stands now, we know our quarry - a woman turned through the loss of her husband through conscription. He never came home, while many others are reunited with their loved ones. Those that turn are of similar despair to Lady Minato. Especially those that would’ve suffered personally at the hands of Yotsuyu, who they got to see roam free, even if in a highly compromised state. It was my decision that she lived, and the people would’ve known that. They resent me, as they should, and I know not how to appease them now.”

His hand tightened into a fist, frustrations brewing.

“This isn’t about appeasement though, is it?” G’raha asked, seeing this.

“Nay.Though I may vent to you, I wouldn’t ask you to solve my problem for me. It is my duty to bridge the gap between me and my people, especially after I burnt it in the first place. I suppose the problem I seek your help with is more a personal one.”

He was stalling. How unlike him. Hien knew if Gosetsu was here, he would’ve pried it out of him before any of the rambling could even begin. He sighed, trying to push aside the memory of his absent friend to focus on his guest in front of him, still aware he was making him wait.

“How does one cope with having shades to haunt your every hour, reminding you of your failures? How do you ignore them so that you may focus on the people in front of you, on moving into the future?”

G’raha didn’t respond for a long while, red piercing eyes seeming looking right through Hien a million miles away. And when he finally did respond, it was only two words, but they carried the weight of a lifetime upon them.

“You don’t.”

[shadowqueenjude]

Lucien finally loses his shit part 8

Lucien is panicking in the wake of the recapture of his friend! Lucien couldn’t sit idle.

He couldn’t sit idle while his friend had been captured by an evil death god. He had to do something. “I’m going to face Koschei,” Lucien said.

“Are you mad?!” Feyre said incredulously. “He’s incredibly powerful! You’ll die!”

Lucien snorted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I’m not planning on going alone. I’m going to gather some allies. Anyone who might be willing to help us.”

Nesta appraised him. “What about your brother?”

Lucien stiffened. He knew exactly which brother she referred to. His eldest brother, who had apparently allied with the Night Court now. He wasn’t sure if he was desperate enough to ask for his help. “No.”

“If you don’t want to talk to him, I can,” she offered.

“That’s extremely dangerous,” Lucien warned.

Nesta stood up. That otherworldy fire flew into her eyes again. It sung to something in his blood, that look. “I can handle myself,” she said.

“I don’t doubt that,” Lucien said carefully. “But my brother is a snake. He will strike you when you’re at your weakest.”

Nesta smiled grimly. “Then it’s a good thing I’m the same.”

Lucien sighed. It seemed the Archerons all shared the same utter stubbornness that couldn’t be stomped out by anything. “Ok, but only if Feyre teaches you some magic and sword-fighting techniques.”

Nesta’s head turned to Feyre’s, then back to Lucien. To his surprise, there was no protest from Nesta.

“I’m coming with you too,” Jurian said.

Lucien glared at him. “You’re a human. You’ll just be a liability.”

“Try and fucking stop me,” Jurian said through clenched teeth.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re a nerd.”

“Moron.”

“Smartass.”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both beautiful,” Nesta said. Lucien and Jurian both turned to her and managed a genuine laugh.

“What are you still doing here?” Lucien said, gesturing to Nesta. “You may be Lady Death, but you still need to practice your magic.”

“You may be a smart red fox, but that doesn’t mean you need to boss everyone around all the time.”

Lucien laughed again. “Fair.”

Elain glanced between the two of them, saying nothing. Lucien caught every slight shift she made though.

“Since when are you two friends?” Feyre demanded.

“I, too, would like to know,” Elain said a little quieter, but with a hardness in her voice that Lucien had never heard before. Her feelings tunneled down the mating bond, and Lucien jolted. Something bitter green, almost like…

“My lady Elain, are you jealous?”

Elain stood up abruptly. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, and she stormed out of the room.

Jurian had a shit-eating grin on his face now. “She’s 100 percent jealous, Lucien,” he whispered.

Lucien grinned back. Even Feyre had a wide smile on her face when the two males focused on her. “I think I might know someone who will help,” Lucien said. He hesitantly put a hand on Jurian’s shoulder. “We’re getting her back, ok?”

Jurian nodded; determination set on his face. “Yes. We are.”

Lucien was standing before the High Lord of the Spring Court.

Tamlin was a far cry from what he had once been. A twinge of pain and guilt flowed through Lucien at the thought. But now was not the time for sentiments. His friend was missing. He’d go to the ends of the world to bring her back.

The male was defeated and broken. Lucien couldn’t blame him. His formerly bright green eyes were heavy and dull, his claws permanently out of their sheaths. Lucien knew it wasn’t merely losing Feyre that rattled him, though that certainly didn’t help. Lucien only knew too well what it was like to lose the love of your life. Jesminda had been the one light in the darkness of the Autumn Court. Fitting that he had left the court as soon as she had died.

No, the Spring Court was a far cry from the glory days. And a lot of the reason for that was Feyre herself. Lucien still harbored resentment towards Feyre for what she had done to those innocent people. His home. But he would not dwell on it now. Like it or not, he needed Feyre right now. Just as he needed Tamlin now.

“Tam,” he said quietly. Tamlin looked up at him. No emotion lay there. “Tam, I need your help.”

He snarled. “Ask someone else.”

“Tam,” Lucien said again. “Please.”

He paused, waiting for Tamlin to snarl his dismissal again. But Tamlin only slumped. Lucien took that as an invitation to speak. “Vassa is in danger.”

Tamlin dragged a claw across the table. “And what am I to do about it?”

“Help me get her back. Me and a group of friends… we’re going to go get her back. From Koschei.”

“That’s a suicide mission.”

Lucien didn’t relent. “You’d once said that against slavery, against tyranny, you would gladly go to your death, no matter whose freedom you were defending. Vassa is a slave to Koschei. Does this not apply to her?”

“Do not try to guilt trip me- “

Lucien stared Tamlin down. He let Tamlin see and feel the power that had slowly grown since he was a boy, and continued to grow even now. The power he had been afraid to acknowledge even to himself, the most important reason why his brothers had hunted him down from a young age. “I speak nothing but the truth. Tamlin, I served you all these years because I believed in you. I believed in that male, that radical who would fight against all of that. It’s why I’ve risked everything to defy Rhysand-“

“What did you do,” Tamlin said abruptly.

Lucien took a deep breath. “I broke the mating bonds of Feyre and Nesta.”

“Why would you do that?” Tamlin demanded. “I wanted her to be happy.”

“She wasn’t, Tam. No one can be with an asshole like that.”

Tamlin sighed. “I’d hoped she’d be. Since she clearly couldn’t be with me.”

“Yes, she can, Tam. You were made for her.”

Tamlin just stared at Lucien blankly. “I’m not her mate,” he said after a beat. “Rhysand is.”

“It is possible for a female to have two mates, you know.”

“What are you saying, Lucien? You know I cannot deal with your riddles.”

Lucien took a deep breath. “You are Feyre’s mate too. Since I broke the Rhysand mating bond, you are her only mate.”

Tamlin’s eyes widened for a moment before that dull expression returned. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t force myself on her, no matter what bond we may have.”

“So, don’t. Don’t do it for her. Do it for those principles. The ones you said were greater than any love you may have shared.”

Tamlin scowled. “Fine. I’ll do it for my principles. And also, for you.” He added softly, “Consider this my apology. For being a terrible friend these past months.”

Lucien’s heart hurt at that. “I just kept reaching my hand out. I knew you were still there, somewhere, Tam.” Tamlin shook his head. “You’re a better friend than I ever deserved, Lucien.”

[snakebites-and-ink]

My Whump Trope Likes and Dislikes

Favorite tropes:

Conditioning/Brainwashing (MY BELOVED)

Whumper-turned-Whumpee (in any capacity, but especially yummy if it’s Caretaker whumping them, especially especially if it’s to make former Whumper “sorry” for what they did)

Carewhumpers

^In a similar vein, the “new whumper is nicer than the former whumper” trope

Pet whump

Living Weapon Whump

Slavery

Stockholm Syndrome

When a Whumpee internalizes stuff, or deludes themself as part of a coping mechanism, and it really messes with their head

I also enjoy a lot of stuff that didn’t quite make the favorites list! If it’s whump and it’s not on my nos, squicks, or picky list, chances are pretty good that I either enjoy it already or would be open to it.

Hard Nos:

Extreme whump of a child

Sexually graphic content

Squicks: (not as hard-and-fast as the hard nos are)

Other kinds of whump of a minor

Non-medically-necessary removal of a body part (amputation, tooth-pulling, etc.) (the permanence of it is a major part of what squicks me out, so if it’s done to someone who can regrow/replace it, it’s much less likely to bother me.)

Hand gore/fingore

Tongue bifurcation

Anything involving urine/feces/etc.

Extreme infantilization/age regression

Some kinds of eye gore

Most vampire enthrallment (which baffles me, because I really like other kinds of mind control and I’m not certain how I developed this as a squick.) (Sorry to those of my dear mutuals who love this, you do you but I'm not gonna touch it.)

One very specific flavor of hopelessness/powerlessness that I can’t really articulate, it’s an I-know-it-when-I-see-it thing. (I certainly don’t expect anyone to avoid/cater to this ill-defined squick when interacting with me, I just mention it so you’ll know wth I’m talking about if I say I can’t do something because it hits this squick.)

Not exactly the same as a squick but idk where else to put this: forced/dubcon crossdressing (specifically of a man made to wear fem clothing) can make me feel dysphoric secondhand so I hate reading/seeing most cases of that too.

Stuff I’m picky about: (can enjoy or can get squicked out by it depending)

Animalization

Recapture

There’s probably more that I’ll add to the list when something reminds me of it.

I enjoy both original work and generic/nameless stuff, but fanfiction is not my personal cup of tea.

[frostyreturns]

Frosty Ruins The Prince Of Egypt

This is a movie I actually remember going to see in theatres as a kid. My older brother took me for my birthday and must have thought the movie was underwhelming because after we watched it he insisted we go to the toy store right after for a secondary gift. That was unneccesary because even a mediocre movie with my brother was a good time. Now I haven't seen the movie since then so let's see if that assessement of mediocre still stands.

I've never been a huge fan of Dreamworks, the first Shrek movie was great but I have trouble even picking a second favourite movie of theirs. I've always found their character designs offputting. The artwork in the movie overall is very good…the settings the backgrounds the buildings all look terrific but the characters themselves…just look goofy and not goofy in a fun way, goofy in an 'am I supposed to believe this mongoloid alien is a person' kind of way.

I hate the musical aspects of this movie as well, it just doesn't fit. The music in a story like this is to keep the kids engaged…to make otherwise dark or boring parts of the story more interesting and recapturing a short attention span. However when the story is grim and the music is grim…it just doesn't work with the sad ballads. I'm sure there are some people who like that kind of thing but I'm not one of them. Even as a kid when I liked musical cartoon feature length movies I didn't care for the music in this one at all. The music just isn't good it doesn't flow well it's not catchy or memorable and some of it is downright cringeworthy.

I can also see the movie being polarizing for the religious elements. It opens with the disclaimer that they took some artistic license but felt it was a faithful adapation of the story. However when you adapt a story there's so much room for…adding here…taking away there…altering one single word can change so much and is considered apostasy. However sometimes those changes can also bring a story more alive. One thing that stood out to me in this vein is when moses kills the slavedriver. In the movie it's presented like as though it was an accident to make him a more sympathetic character and to avoid taking a moral stance on killing oppressors. The reality is he saw his people being abused by evil men and killed one out of rage. By altering this it presents a moral perspective not present in or consistent with the Bible that says killing is always wrong no matter what. And it attempts to present Moses as a more benevolent and perfect figure than he was, which ruins the notion of God using imperfect people to do great things. They hammer this home by doing a whole song and dance about how great Moses is. Moses is feeling unworthy and he overcomes this self doubt by "looking at his life through heavens eyes" thus attributing this veneration of Moses to God. Rather than Moses bringing glory to God they reverse this and have God bringing glory to Moses. Now maybe this is intentional or maybe an accidental consequence of a slight "artistic" alteration of the story. just to give an idea for how much of a departure it is this is the full story as it appears in the Bible/Torah.

Exodus 2:11 11 Years later, after Moses had grown up, he went out to his own people, and took notice of their heavy burdens. He saw an Egyptian beating up a Hebrew, one of his own people. 12 Looking around and seeing no one else, he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. 13 Going out the next day, Moses noticed two Hebrew men fighting right in front of him. He told the one who was at fault, “Why did you strike your companion?” 14 The man replied, “Who appointed you to be an official judge over us? Are you planning to kill me like you killed the Egyptian?” Then Moses became terrified and told himself, “Certainly this event has become known!”

I'm sorry but that's a wildly different story than the one presented in the film, where he accidentally bumps a man off a ledge and is immediately offered immunity by Rameses which he turns down out of guilt. This is just one example but there's more.

What I did like about the movie is that i've always hated ancient egypt…it was an evil, oppressive, demonic empire and I hate the way there's a fascination with it that doesn't acknowledge or glosses over these things. The movie showcases just a small portion of their evil and it's always fun to watch an evil empire get pwned and seeing slaves go free.

I'm very conflicted about movies like this in general, I don't like seeing Bible stories as tales to sit and watch for entertainment. This isn't a story made up to entertain it's a historical and religious story told so we'll know the tale and it's importance spiritually. I'm not opposed to it in general I'm not saying it's wrong I just have mixed feelings about it. Seeing a story about the one true God delivering people from slavery... on the shelf next to a story about an ogre rescuing a princess…I dunno man. I just don't think the word of God is meant to be a story consumed for passing the time. I think part of the problem is I found the movie aggressively mediocre…and it almost feels wrong to say that about a Bible story…but Bible stories shouldn't be judged on their entertainment value at all. It's like judging a steak dinner for how much it tastes like candy….it does a bad job of it…but it's not supposed to and is meant to do something more important for you.

Overall it's not a terrible movie and it definitely seems like it was made in earnest, it was clearly not created to be a mockery or to diminish the story, it fails in some areas but succeeds in others. I think this is more of a take it with a grain of salt thing and not a throw the whole thing out kind of thing.

C+