#can't I cry and feel empowered at the same time

[ginjoob]

The feminine urge to rewatch Michelle Kwan's 2004 US Nationals long program several times per year

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting. 

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself… 

Now that is pure hell. 

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good. 

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you." 

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?" 

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 

"I'm just…" 

Jesus, this is just humiliating. 

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–" 

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…" 

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know." 

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to. 

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok." 

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 

Whoa. 

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…" 

He sounds dazed. 

Relieved. 

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

[redvelvetwishtree]

What I've been asking for a while now!! You all love watching animes and reading and watching stuff with such themes but can't seem to understand it now that it's really happening.

Given how obsessed western media and Israel were with the "bUt h@m@s" narrative this time, it makes it plenty obvious that ham@s is no longer the t€rr0r1st body that Israel once empowered and enabled it to be. It's just people/freedom fighters wanting their land back after they've experienced decades of similar barbarity it appears.

And how anyone thinks Palestinian people will come out of the current massacre, mass murder and cruelty all chill and cool is beyond me. Do you seriously expect they won't want to avenge their loved ones after the stuff Israel did to their families??? The school year in Gaza had to be ended because all kids were DEAD. Entireeee family lines have been wiped out. Their hospitals, refugee camps, bakeries, schools everything has been turned to dust. Their internet and phones were cut off while aid was refused entry and all of this is stuff you can read without crying, and feeling sick I haven't listed the stomach turning shit yet.

Oh btw are you all still seriously believing that Israel is out there doing you a favour by t@rgEt1ng h@m@s? They're just killing and slaughtering and destroying so they can expand their colonized land later (this has been said by Israeli politicians and people). Also, they don't care about hostages from their country so before demanding their release from h@mas, talk to Israel.

And what happens when they're done getting rid of h@m@s which I know they're not doing that but still? Palestinians will thank them and carry on with their lives? What have you all been encouraging and celebrating Ukrainians for? Why doesn't that same logic apply here? You don't expect one ounce self-defence from Palestine later??? After alllll that was done?? Get your brain checked.

[raisedbythetv89]

*tw* mentions of sa throughout the btvs series:

Expanding on the thoughts in this post about fandom culture and etiquette for how to make this a safer and more enjoyable space for everyone no matter who you ship

If you are a fan of btvs or ats no matter who your favorite characters are or who you ship - you have suffered at the hands of joss whedon's narcissistic personality and the subsequent emotional abuse he not only put the actors and his characters through but the audience as well

He gave us characters and relationships we fell in love with and then always, without fail, something horrible happens to one of them or they do something horrific and we're forced to cope with the emotional whiplash that happens every time he does it and decide if we love the character or relationship enough to cope with what joss did to them or if that's it for us enjoying that character or relationship

Like Bangel? Surprise! He's gonna lose his soul and completely psychologically destroy Buffy! AND THEN he's gonna come back and turns out he's been lying to this whole time to Buffy and he actually loved Darla so much he tried to be evil even with the soul first and actually stalked Buffy for a year before he introduced himself and fell in love with the sight of her crying at 15 and we made her look SUPER childlike and innocent to really up the ick factor!

Like Spuffy? Here take the most traumatic depiction of attempted sexual assault we've ever seen in the series that comes out of absolutely nowhere and is specifically designed to punish women after Spike was the only person who could be there for Buffy besides Tara as she battles her severe depression!

Like Tillow? Well Willow goes from empowering Tara and standing up for her to yelling at her to shut the hell up and then magically drugging and sexually assaulting her! and then when Tara calls her out on in she uses the "I didn't mean to" line and then is gonna use magic on her in the exact same way! and then we're gonna rush tara forgiving her just to kill her off!

Like Fuffy? Well Faith is gonna steal Buffy's body and then sexually assault both buffy and riley simultaneously while trying to goad riley into violating buffy's body as much as possible!

The list is truly ENDLESS you either survive on btvs long enough to do something horrific or you're killed off in a brutal, shocking and senseless way (I'm not going to list every single relationship and horrific event as it seems unnecessary and I know I can expand on the above example even further but again it feels unnecessary so please don't freak out if you feel I missed something this is by no means an exhaustive list)

Joss hates people, he hates women, he hates people of color, he hates his audience. Doing horrible things to people you claim to love is incredibly normal for him and any abusive narcissist because they don't love people or even see them as fellow humans - they're just things they play with for entertainment or to make them feel good about themselves which is why this is so prevalent in the buffyverse in the first place

Liking a ship where something horrible happens, you're not condoning it - it happened TO YOU. You were going along loving a character or relationship and then the creator got bored or angry and decides to throw a narrative punch just because he can and he likes the control it gives him to make a bunch of people react in certain ways emotionally and he loves to ruin things people love that's a huge thing for narcissists - if they see someone else feeling good about themselves or experience joy they want it destroyed

We have all suffered at the hands of this man, everyone has their favorite characters for very specific and deeply personal reasons. Just because you can't move past or accept certain behaviors from a character doesn't mean you get to dictate that for everyone else. Truly loving or connecting to a character means you have more capacity for forgiveness than someone who just liked them - and loving a character also usually comes with a deeper understanding of that character in the first place that can give you perspective and understanding that helps you contextualize the bad things.

Loving even the worst fictional characters literally harms no one, but attacking, shaming, judging, feeling superior to real people for their fictional tastes does so don't come on here and "well actually" me with "well MY fav didn't do [x]" or "MY fav never did anything.." because that's not the point. The whole point of this post is other btvs or ats fans who like different characters or ship difference ships are not you enemy - JOSS WHEDON is the only enemy here - be mad at him and only him, hate on other characters all you want but being cruel to other fans who don't agree with you is exactly what joss wants and we all hate that fucker so stop playing his game and don't be a dick.

[oxianamello]

🐍Oxiana Mello reference post🐍

New ref sheet and design up! 'v' See her info and backstory under the spoiler ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

General information:

Name: Oxiana Mello Age: 29 (Post timeskip) Height: 190cm / 6'9" Personality: Her easygoing nature and demeanor makes her seem very relaxed and.. well.. 'mellow', often making her a target for people and pirates who might be looking for an easy mark. She's very easy to approach, and emits a friendly aura that makes most feel welcome in her presence. However, they way she treats everyone with the same enthusiasm makes it difficult to know if she's being legit or just putting up a font. She gets her kicks from witty banter and sarcastic remarks. Devil Fruit: Hebi-Hebi no mi: model Samar Cobra (a highly venomous spitting cobra)

She can shed her skin to counter superficial wounds such as scrapes, scratches, heat and cold. It is also possible for her to layer it to deflect heavier hits, cushioning them with her own skin. Although it's a potent skill, she hates using it because it flakes horribly, like massive dandruff and dead skin.

Toxin secretion through her teeth and gums, under her nails, able to inject through her own specialized fingergun technique named "Shigan: snakebite" where she uses two fingers to emulate a snake bite. Can also fling drops over longer distances with high accuracy, or fling drops with little accuracy like a shotgun.

Her saliva secretes an antivenom, so any toxin applied along with her saliva is harmless, and tastes kinda sweet.

Like a snake, her initial ambush speed is explosive, but she is unable to keep up the same speed over longer durations. Strengths:

Rokushiki master, specializing in 'finger pistol', 'paper art', and 'iron body'.

Haki: Specialty is observation haki, and paired with her snake senses, she is able to sense certain things and people from afar by flicking her tongue, much like how a snake smells and senses. She's also able to vaguely pick up on people's intentions and feelings if they are within 15 meters. She can also use armament haki, but mostly for offensive means, empowering her 'Snakebite'.

Grip strength. Part of the reason she uses a modified finger pistol with two fingers is to be able to grab on to people better. She's very hard to get off once she grabs a hold of you, she would be excellent at rock climbing. Traits: She's hella expressive and emotional, but she has a kind of disorder where her tear ducts work overtime over the smallest excess of emotion, which has made her adapt a very "mellow" demeanor. Any emotion that is being felt a little more than normal makes her tears roll, not because she's sad or crying, but because her body just can't handle it and uses tears to process it. Any amount of extra joy, anger, excitement, or sadness triggers it. She's been described as a weirdo or sometimes creepy for "crying" while doing her Cipher Pol work.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Backstory:

Mello and Lucci were two kids from the same batch who were recruited by the World Government to undergo training to become Cipher Pol agents. Mello stood out for her relentless optimism, regularly cracking jokes and sporting a smile that brought a bit of light to the rigorous regime the litter of kids faced. Despite their contrasting personalities — Mello's cheerful and witty disposition clashing with Lucci's serious and calculated demeanor — they were drawn together, forming an unlikely friendship. The time came when Lucci, among others, was selected to join the more elite CP9, somethng that would intensify his training and isolate him from Mello and the rest. As he departed, Mello sprinted alongside his departing ship as far as the dock allowed, shouting out for him to promise a visit back to her — a promise Lucci made.

Years rolled by, and Mello found her place in CP7, serving with dedication. Basically she joined the intel unit of Cipher Pol, (I just happened to pick CP7 to be the intel unit), focusing on espionage, as well as gathering and handling of intelligence. But Lucci's absence grew heavier with each passing day; no visits, no letters. Her curiosity and missing her old friend led her to quietly probe for Lucci's whereabouts. This curiosity was met with resistance from her superiors due to the secretive nature of CP9, and ultimately they stopped her inquiries with a lie: Lucci had fallen in the line of duty. Shattered by the belief that Lucci was gone forever, Mello's spirit broke. After over a decade and a half with CP7, the hope of reuniting had fueled her. Now, extinguished. She took leave from her duties to recover, but her lack of income forced her into a poor lifestyle. Hopping from ship to ship, island to island, Mello did whatever odd jobs she could find, all while dealing with sad accommodations, from bug-infested motels to makeshift hideaways in the wild, living like a hobo for 5 or so years.

Circumstances led her to a war-scarred isle in the grand line where the government, stretched thin on manpower, had reluctantly requested a Cipher Pol member to supervise the building of a Marine outpost. It was here, during a confrontation with pirates from her past as an agent, that she crossed paths with the one assigned to the task -- Rob Lucci. The sight of Lucci, alive and now a member of the even more prestigious CP0, turned her world upside down. Overwhelmed with relief and emotion, Mello couldn't help but burst into tears. I like to imagine that all CP9 agents, especially Lucci, went through harsh indoctrination and memory suppression during his CP9 training, which stripped him of any memories that could hold him back, Lucci initially did not recognize Mello or recall their long-ago promise. However, their unexpected meeting sparked… something that was teetering at the edge of his mind.

Ofc they end up reconnecting, and even after 20ish years they are pleasantly surprised to rediscover their affinity for each other, and that the friendship from their childhood wasn't just a chance thing.

[phantoms-lair]

Batman Exalted Thing

Because thought experiments never stay thought experiments

~~~

"Thought you'd be up on the roof, Commish?"

Gordon turned to Bullock, "Why?"

"Signals up. Usually mean you want to talk to Bats."

Gordon rolled his eyes. Some rookie with stars in his eyes probably wanted to see the local vigilantes. He sighed and made his way up the stairs.

It wasn't a rookie he found, but a woman he knew he'd never seen before. She turn and looked at him and suddenly he felt like his very soul was being turned inside out and examined before everything snapped back to normal.

"You felt that." she sounded surprised. "Oh, I do hope he hasn't factored you into his plan."

"What was that? Who are you?"

"You may call me Quill." The woman nodded

"But that's not your name." he guessed.

She looked bitter. "I had to destroy my name to prevent magical tracking. Quill will have to do., for both of us."

"Tracking from who?" Of course Batman had appeared without notice. His full attention was on Quill.

"Ketchup Carjack." She answered succinctly.

Neither man responded for a moment. "Who?" Jim finally asked for clarification.

"It's not his real name, just similar sounding words. But he's one of those 'I demand respect' types, so I give him none on principal." Her cool façade fell as angered colored her tone. It was clear to see it wasn't just a matter of principle, she despised whoever she was talking about.

She turned her gaze to Batman. He had a notorious poker face, but years of knowing him let Jim see his discomfort as the woman's glanced at him and knew batman was feeling the same inside out feeling he had.

"You're a meta." Batman observed.

"I am something entirely different. More magical than meta. And I will explain more later, but lets get to the meat of this meeting, shall we? Ketchup is going to try to empower you and your family of vigilantes to create a permanent foothold between your world and his so he can conquer it and I'd rather like to stop him as I hate his guts and everything he stands for."

"So he's going to offer us power and we have to refuse." There was a lot in that statement that needed unpacking, but that seemed the simplest thing.

"No. He's not offering. He's going to manipulate your fates to give you power, then offer to teach you how to use it, make you a political power and through that become the true ruler behind the throne." Quill was practically growling. "And you can stop him from empowering us?" Batman pressed.

"Er, no. My plan kind of relies on you being powered up." Quill admitted awkwardly. "Look, if you can make your own fates read-only so he can't mess with them, great. That's a win condition and I can go back to hiding in the underworld until he tries again. If not, don't knock my plan of you don't have one of your own."

"You're defensive. Frightened." Batman observed.

"Of course I'm frightened!" Quill snapped. "I lost everything because I didn't know how to stop it! And now I'm trying to stop this from happening ever again. But I am one person with powers I don't really understand and even if I did they are NOT made for this kind of thing. My exigence is based around stories. And the only story I've found that can block Ketchup's world off from the multiverse is of a ritual called the Seal of Eight Divinities, which I couldn't do myself even if I was a sorcerer, which I'm not. And the only people with power that Ketchup can't track are the fair folk, the demons, and the undead, all of whom want to destroy or at least conquer reality, so my only option for help to power this is letting the monster who destroyed my life mess with other peoples." Batman sat on the structure of the bat signal next her her, his body language changed to the one he used dealing with scared children. And seeing the crying woman in front of them, Jim felt that was a more accurate reading of her that the cool and collected persona she'd first tried to project.

"This isn't the first time he's tried this, is it?" Batman said in a gentle voice.

"He tried it the other way first. When our worlds got close he grabbed a bunch of us and tried to force us to Exalt. That's, um, that the word for this power. He can't manipulate the fates of other worlds as easily. So he brought us to his to make it happen naturally. But to exalt in his world you have to prove yourself to the gods and that's dangerous and..." She gulped. "He lied. All he does is lie. He told us our world was going to be destroyed, but would be spared if we proved out worth as representatives. The others died, but for some reason I was chosen. My power was stories and when I looked at him, I saw his." "I saw his lies. Our world was never in danger, his was. He was the leader of a group of shadow manipulators who controlled fate through magic and deceit. But his very manipulations had brought their world to the brink of collapse. His work had disrupted the protectors because they were threats to his rule, and now the enemies of existence were at his gate. But he couldn't even acknowledge it to himself! As far as he was concerned if things were failing under his leadership, then they were always destined to fail and nothing could fix them. So he just had to find a new world."

"But when realities touch, it's brief. It wouldn't be enough for him to move his whole operation unless a bridge was formed. Something that joined the two worlds, say a mortal from one world empowered by the other. I knew I had to stop him so I broke my story. I erased all of it from before he caught me. So there was nothing to tie me to my original world. Not even memories." She sounded so lost, but in a way she was. So lost she didn't even have a concept of home.

"Why come to us? Why not try to contact the Justice League directly?" Batman inquired. "This may be starting on Gotham, but it sounds like it would be a global problem." "Three reasons." Quill explained. "The first is that Ketchup has narrowed his focus down to Gotham and I don't want to give him ideas about expanding. The second is as far as I know, Ketchup does not know I'm here, nor that I'm actively plotting against him. Outside help being brought in before he's even made a move will let him know something is up and may cause him to escalate or be harder to pin down. And the final and main reason-" Quill shuddered. "Cash and Murder Games on Superman."

Jim and Batman waited for further explanation, but when none seemed coming a prod was necessary.

"Is that some sort of gladiatorial colosseum?" Jima asked. "It's a ...spell is the wrong word but get the point across without going into semantics. It's one of Ketchups favorites and allows him to define the relationship between two people."

"Such as defining himself as 'beloved master' and Superman as 'devoted servant'." Batman deduced.

"Exactly! And that's far from the only mind manipulation tool in his box. They can be resisted but given Superman's specific vulnerability to magic-" Quill looked deeply uncomfortable.

"How much of the Justice League have you looked at thee way you looked at the Commissioner and myself?" Batman inquired.

His tone wasn't accusing, but Quill flinched. "A lot. Your world depends on knowing who was safe to trust, And as with Superman, not just in terms of morality. I am well into desperate times." She gave a self depreciating laugh then took a breath.

"Justice League Dark I would trust to got over the ritual to see if it needs adjustment to this world, but the magics they use would be incompatible with casting it. On the ground, if it were called for, my first choice would be Wonder Woman. Shazam as a last resort. Dr. Fate...would be a potent ally, but I don't think I'd be able to work with him personally. But then again I'm not sure what use I am on the ground either."

"Why is Shazam a last resort?" Wonder Woman made sense, and the issue with Dr. Fate seemed to be a matter of clashing personalities, but Shazam being a last resort seemed...odd.

"He has his own things he's dealing with, As a fiercely independent person, he doesn't want or need help, but I'm loathe to put another burden on his shoulders."

"Fiercely independent?" Batman raised an eyebrow.

"Can you name one times he's asked for help instead of volunteered it?" Quill challenged. "Also you might want to talk to him about workshopping a new name. Or not. It's his...I shouldn't have said anything." She pulled out several file folders. "Here, this is all the relevant information on Ketchup and different Exaltations. And the ritual. Um, I don't have a phone or anything, but I we can set a meeting time if you have any questions."

Batman pulled a small phone from his belt. "This is a burner. We can use it to contact you or vice versa. Do you have a place to stay?" "It's not hard to hide in Gotham, at least not with Ketchup having trouble with fate."

"Not back to the underworld?"

"Not if I can help it. But still better than Hell."

Batman shared a quick glance with Jim. If half of what Quill was saying was true, this woman likely had severe PTSD. They'd need to look into getting her help after the crisis was over.

"I'll have Justice League Dark look over the ritual. We'll go from there."

[vanillabunnymilk]

The Dark Truth Behind Katy Perry's "Woman's World"

Katy Perry's highly anticipated new single "Woman's World" has finally dropped, but fans are left feeling conflicted and outraged. The catchy, upbeat anthem is meant to be a celebration of female empowerment, but the production credits may leave a bad taste in your mouth. You see, the song is co-written and produced by none other than Dr. Luke, the same man who was accused of sexual assault by Kesha.

For those who may not know, Dr. Luke (real name Lukasz Gottwald) was sued by Kesha in 2014 for allegedly drugging and raping her in 2005. The case sparked a national conversation about sexual assault in the music industry, with many calling for Dr. Luke to be held accountable for his actions.

So, why would Katy Perry choose to work with him on a song that's supposed to be a rallying cry for women's empowerment? It's a question that has left fans scratching their heads and feeling betrayed.

"I just can't listen to it," said longtime Katy Perry fans say. "I love Katy and I think she's a great artist, but how can she possibly justify working with someone who hurt Kesha in such a way? It's like she's condoning his behavior."

The lyrics of "Woman's World" may be empowering on the surface, but some critics argue that the song's message is undermined by its association with Dr. Luke. The song's chorus repeats the phrase "woman's world" over and over, but it feels hollow when considering the dark history between Dr. Luke and Kesha.

"It's like Katy is saying 'women are powerful' while simultaneously giving power to someone who has been accused of harming women," said music critic Rachel Morrison. "It's a confusing and problematic message, especially when you consider the impact that music can have on young women."

Katy Perry has yet to comment on the controversy surrounding her collaboration with Dr. Luke, but fans are speaking out loud and clear. #NotMyEmpowerment is trending on social media as fans express their disappointment and disgust at the situation.

In an era where women are fighting for respect and equality, it's hard to see how Katy Perry can justify working with someone who has been accused of such heinous crimes. It may be time for the pop star to rethink her priorities and stand up for what she claims to believe in.

For now, we're left wondering: is "Woman's World" really a celebration of female empowerment, or just a weak attempt to cash in on a popular trend?

[bug-the-chicken-nug]

i know this isn't really The Point they're going for in v9 but man i wish Alyx could just be like.

Genuinely a really sweet, caring, sensitive kind of girl, with the flaws that can come with that instead: Shy, naive, a crybaby, kind of a coward, scared to hurt anyone's feelings, etc.

With the theme of her original story being that it's about learning to stand up for yourself and others, while also staying true to yourself.

Because in the context of her being a black girl (girls typically read as more "naturally" mean and aggressive) and her being in a show about girls who are all supposed to be conventionally strong and brave and good at fighting, this *does* actually loop back to being subversive, and it could be used in some genuinely interesting ways.

Mainly I'm thinking of the girls like originally discussing the story in a way that indicates their culture sees it as a "babyish" story. In the early volume, Yang and Weiss keep taking cheap shots at it all and rolling their eyes at their memories of what a boring little goody-two-shoes Alyx was, and how trite and childish it all seemed even when they were little kids themselves.

Blake tries to defend it, but they don't take her defenses too seriously, while Ruby is too moody to have much input on it either way, but Yang mentions that even Ruby mostly only liked it for the bright colors.

And then a lot more denizens turn out to remember and miss Alyx, in the case of ruder or blunter ones often straight up making commentary about how the girls don't measure up to her.

This offends the group at first, because to be fair some of these comments really are pretty fuckin uncalled for, and plus, they just don't really... Get it.

Despite Alyx hating to fight and having been written as crying and shaking the one time the events of the book forced her to, despite her not even actually *winning* that fight, almost everyone here seems to regard her as more heroic and admirable than our mains.

And Ruby is the first to truly see why: Because for all of her faults, at least Alyx was always *careful* and *considerate*. Alyx always admitted it when she needed help, and didn't try to bite off more than she could chew. Alyx was patient and diplomatic, she *listened* to people, didn't make promises she couldn't keep, and didn't even have a Semblance, but still managed to make things *better* for each character she met, not *worse*.

Meanwhile, the group has still just been causing trouble everywhere they turn up, and they're starting to realize that they can't blame *all* of this on the Afterans just being weird.

This would also end up tying in well with the troubled reaction Ruby has to getting Crescent Rose back, although I would not have Jaune have it, and only have Ruby get it back after an epiphany about how she doesn't actually *need* it to do what's right, or to have a positive impact on others, but keep her conflicted emotions on finding it again, as the weapon reminds her of her own past overconfidence and recklessness, her own belief that she could both literally and metaphorically just cut right through anyone or anything that didn't agree with her.

Also as much as a ton of people hate Jaune right now I honestly think he would've been a cool "villain" to illustrate the flipside of these messages. Like. Neo's great and all but she feels really superfluous and not exactly compelling enough to be the primary villain of the volume at this point.

I'm imagining Jaune being the same age, but the one with Penny's sword now, physically unable to let go of it, in some sort of daze of grief and self-loathing that's being further amplified by some aspect of the Ever After.

He is driven chiefly by a belief by if he'd only been "stronger", everything would've been better.

And in a twisted way, he gets his wish.

It turns out his Semblance can actually resonate with and empower a lingering "imprint" of Aura in Penny's sword to both make it stronger and to give him a sort of bastardized shadow of the Winter Maiden powers.

(Winter still has the "real" version, this is like explicitly a twisted, harmful bootleg version that would also be animated differently from any other usage of Maiden abilities.)

Using it harms him as well, and it's noted that Jaune seriously might eventually freeze himself to death just by continuing to hold on to the sword. His presence is also always preceded by a sudden chill.

Ruby quickly realizes and begins to have a crisis over the implication of Jaune being able to tap into a lingering fragment of Penny's Aura.

Namely, does that mean Penny is in some way... *actually still there?* And potentially *suffering*?

You could use the blacksmith lady to like foreshadow and then kinda explain how all of this is even a thing, so it's less confusing.

And then we get an actual answer to this question! 'Cause the big climax of the volume is now Jaune smacking the group around, they just barely get the upper hand again, and then Jaune uses the last of his strength, shifts the sword into MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE, everything looks Real Bad, but then...

The sword just... Explodes?

And out comes Penny's glowy green Aura ghost, who Jaune inadvertantly powered up enough for her to materialize herself, and whose first order of business is to turn around and briefly apologize before slapping the shit out of Jaune... Which goes right through him physically, but DOES seem to be able to immediately exorcize whatever horseshit was corrupting him.

Her second order of business is to be like "FINALLY! NOW maybe you'll LISTEN to me, Jaune!"

While Ruby is just standing there gaping like "A."

Before anyone (including the audience) can get their hopes up, Penny quickly explains that this is likely only a temporary affair brought about by how much Jaune has strengthened her, and that she can "already feel herself fading", but then smiles and adds on that she's super excited to see Ruby (likely followed by trying and failing to tackle-hug her because that just makes Penny fly straight through her)

Ruby, still, except this time she's clearly tearing up: "A,,,"

Followed by a conversation where Ruby gets closure and Jaune comes clean, but then Ruby confesses that honestly, even with Penny trying to tell her that she asked to be sacrificed and that Ruby should forgive Jaune... Ruby can't. At least not yet.

Ruby ruefully adds "No wonder nobody here really likes me..." to that, to which Penny immediately replies

"But *I* like you!"

And Ruby just scoffs and goes "Do you? Even though your death is my fault too?"

And Penny just sadly replies "Of course. Do you really have so little faith in me?", which kinda gets to Ruby, as it reminds her that her funk is negatively affecting others too. And that in a way, insisting that she's the worst person in the world is still a form of self-centeredness, just as it was to believe that she had all the answers.

She's silent until Penny begins noticeably fading away and dissolving into particles of light, which has Ruby going "Wait! Don't go! Jaune! Jaune, do something!"

But Jaune is of course Spent As Fuck and also probably has lowkey been struggling to stay conscious through this whole conversation, so they have no choice but to make this quick.

Penny gives Ruby one last fond, sorrowful look and says "I'm sorry not everything can go like it does in this story, Ruby. But you? You're still *writing* your story. And I for one can't wait to see how it ends! "

"You're not going to, though! You're never going to, because you-because you're-"

"Once again, Ruby: Do you really have so little faith in me?" Penny says with a teasing grin, before disappearing completely.

Aaand thats a wrap.

Yes it's weird and kind of cheesy, but your honor, my defense is that this whole show is weird and kind of cheesy.

[sofsdragons237]

So, hello thereee lovely person

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

I'm sorry for my dissapearence, but I'm here ready to write again with all the attitude ☺️

Todaaaay, I bring....

Drums pleaseeeee

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

MHA 1-A GIRLS COMFORTING YOU AFTER BREAKUP

So, before we start...NOTES:

💅 Bnha fandom [Kohei Horikoshi world XD]

💅 Sad, depressed YN

💅 Comfort, motivation/breakup

💅 Bad grammar maybe? [Sorry 🥺]

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

I think that's it, well, so, let's start shall we?

Hope you like it, go for your popcorns, and, ENJOYYYYYY ❤️❤️❤️❤️

You go running to the girls changing room, tears where falling down your cheeks, but you don't want anyone to see you in that mood.

What had happened?

Everything seems to be alright, just a normal day ready to listen another class of Aizawa and doing homeworks in the middle of the class while he was explanning, atending quirk training and at the same time therapy.

In the morning, on your way to the snacks machine, your boyfriend approached to you a little bit serious and anxious about something, that makes you confused, because in his face you could see that something was bothering him.

???: "Can we talk please?"

YN: "Oh sure"

You say while extending your hand to get the Coca Cola cero out of the mouth of the machine.

You listened him carefully, but word after word, according he was following his talking, you felt how a sharp sensation cover your chest, almost as a knife entering deep inside your heart and an internal bleeding spills out.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

How this could end like this? You crying bitterly in the walls of a changing room, there was nobody, so it was only you and your feelings, it seems that this was not gonna end so soon.

Then, you listened how a lot of steps were approaching and opening the door of the place.

You jump scared, you see around trying to spot a place to hide, and after some seconds of adrenaline, you decide to enter to a locker.

You really didn't want anyone to see you like that, you cover your mouth to stop the sobbing and made the less noise posible...

In less than a minute, the place was covered with a lot of girls talking with each other and laughing.

???: "Hey girls, have you know something about YN? She didn't attend quirk training and I haven't seen her through the day.

Was that...Yaomomo's voice?

You opened a little the metal door of the locker to see a little better, a small ray of light enter the close cage and all the 1-A girl appeared surrounding the changing area.

Uraraka: "Is she sick?"

She put her shirt on while expressing worrying

Tsuyu: "I texted her in the morning *Kero* but she didn't reply"

Now at this point everyone seems intrigued and worried about you.

You look down at the ground.

"They really care about me" you said affirming to yourself "I'm sorry" in certain way the feeling of guilty has empowered your body and that makes some extra tears go down.

???: "THERE IS YN!!!"

A scream surrounded the place.

You look ahead widing your eyes in panick. Mina was pointing you from the center of the room, and everyone raise their looks just to find you hiding in the locker.

You close the door quickly, everyone has seen you, there is no turning back.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Mina opened the door being followed by all the girls behind her, all the light kicks your face and you try to cover it.

Uraraka: "YN-san, are you crying?"

You didn't answer

It was obvious, your cheeks were humid, and the tears can't stop from falling, you were in a terrible condition, a condition you just can't hide easily, you were in pain, and after all the trying of covering up and hiding it from everyone, you just need to admit that you need help, you need a someone.

Your crying gets intense

Mina: "Oh baby...."

Mina surround her arms just to hug you and get you out of there to get you a sit and talked.

Toru: "YN sweetheart, what happened?"

All the girls surround you and try to comfort you by offering water or a candy, giving you hugs and sitting next to you...

Momo stand in her kness in front of you just to caress your hands and give you a sweet smile.

Momo: "You are not alone YN-san, we are here for you"

Your lips were trembling, you try to say a word, but it was difficult because of the shaky voice.

YN: "My heart...it hurts..."

Jiro: "Is it heart problems? A tachycardia?"

Jiro was ready to go and ask for help of recovery girl, but before she can make another step you stop her

YN: "No, it's not that...it's just..."

Everyone wait for you to finish

YN: "My boyfriend finish with me"

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Silence...

Mina: "Someone is gonna prove my acid today"

She sounds mad, just for being follow by Jiro

Jiro: "Let's break him a bone, after all he got 206 in there"

Toru: "YEAHHH LET'S DO IT!!!"

It seems that everything was pointing for a third mundial war

Momo: "Girls, this is serious"

Momo clean your tears with a tissue, while Uraraka was removing the hair of your face and make you a ponytail.

Uraraka: "Ta daaa, beautiful as always"

She add a red ribbon at the top of your head smiling happily at her creation.

Tsuyu take you from your shoulder.

Tsuyu: "YN-san, let me give you the welcome again to the real life *Kero*" - You look at her confused - "This is an experience that many of us pass through, and...*Kero* it hurts, but it's part of being a human"

Momo sighs

Momo: "You deserve better YN-san, you are a sweet person, a total ray of sunshine, and so so important to be crying for someone that don't deserve your tears, because if he truly loves you, he wouldn't have made you cry"

Uraraka: "Everything happens for a reason, if he goes away of your life is for a reason, maybe he was gonna do something terrible that could hurt you more, and you don't deserve that"

Jiro: "I still insist to break him a bone"

You laugh a little at Jiro's comment.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You were terrible hurted, you can't deny that, but just the feeling of being accompanied, that you don't need to have this pain in your back all for yourself, make you relieved in that way.

YN: "I don't want to fell in love again"

You wretched your skirt frustrated

Toru: "YN-san, don't say that, I know that in this moment it feels that love emmm...sucks, but I promise you all gets better and, just because you got a broken heart, that doesn't mean more love can came to heal that wounds"

Jiro: "And look it in this way" -She leaned against a wall- "Pain makes us feel alive, sometimes we need pain to remember us that we are still going walking on life, that we are humans and we are strong"

The school bell sounds

Mina: "Shoot, Aizawa is gonna kill us...well nevermind we all are gonna say it was Jiro's fault"

Jiro: "WHY ME?"

They all started to laugh like if there was no tomorrow, a little of humour many times can make a bad ambience a little bit better.

Mina looks at you and smile tenderly while you laugh, and clap in happiness when she sees, you were showing faith in that sweet giggle of yours.

Mina: "That's it, look that characterizing smile that shine even in a rainy day"

YN: "Hmmm?"

You were feeling better, that was a fact, after all that motivation, you know you have a little bit of hope raising in your soul.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Momo approachs and take your cheeks for you to look at her.

Momo: "Don't make a guy to take away that nice smile of yours, one day, it will came the correct one, and will make you so happy, because you deserve someone better"

Tsuyu: "Just concentrate in yourself, and heal *Kero*"

Uraraka: "We are gonna be right next to you to help you with it"

Then, Mina takes your hand and guide you to the exit, ready to go to class and go back to the game, Toru helped you carrying your backpack while the other girls take with them their things quickly because they were gonna go late for class.

Mina: "So...what if we ask Todoroki to freeze him?"

Jiro: "Good idea"

Momo: "Girls...please stop"

All the way back to the classroom, the laughs cover the hallway and your mood was better this time, Mina was still holding your hand, and all the girls were surrounding you giving their motivation...

"Thanks..." you thought while tears where falling, but this time, of joy, of a feeling maybe...

Of freedom.

...

~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Hey guys, I know the story is not so good, but at least I hope this can be a little bit entertaining and at the same time comforting.

Dear reader, if you are passing through this position, please, I know it hurts, but you will see everything will be just fine, you are gonna be fine, you will heal and one day, you will just see that past and laugh of it.

You are strong, important, and you deserve better, because you value.

And whatever it has happened, it's not your fault!

You did what you can, and that's what matters

I promise many stories are coming...

If you have a recomendation or want me to write something, I'm reading comments

👇👇👇

Love ya, drink water, eat well, and...Bay bay 👋

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[malinastharlock]

Malina Reviews Diablo 4

Okay so I am a fan of Blizzard's games and have been since I first played The Lost Vikings and the original Warcraft. So of course I'm going to pick up the new Diablo 4 game and okay the fuck out of it. I've grown used to games having a few glitches and maybe some bugs here and there but omg this is stupid. I have always held Blizzard to a higher standard than other big game companies cuz they only make like 4 titles and they normally go hard as fuck on them and release something amazing. I will not just sit here and bash a game just because a few bugs either but, Oh My Fucking Cthulhu! This is shit! It's a sparklie fun steaming pile of shit, but still shit. So from here I'm going to break down this steaming pile.

1. THE STORY

::SPOILERS ALERT::

The story is basically like any other Diablo game you are the glorified custodian of a war between good and evil and you're just basically cleaning up the crap fest that they leave behind although this time they change it up with the story of Lilith, a demon who got tired of all the bullshit between the forces of good and evil and decides to do her own thing, she found herself an angel who was also tired of the war too, and both decided to make a nice home have some kids but then baby daddy was like naw fuck this shit, I don't want these kids being so powerful that they could destroy me or heaven. So bro bounced and locked her ass up and decided these kids are mine and I'm gonna make sure they never live up to their potential. Mommy got released from the slammer and decided to go on a revenge kick and whoop the shit out of her baby daddy, while also trying to empower her children, but some of her kids are like, "Naw we like being bitches.", so decided to be punk ass bitches and kill her.

Now me personally, I didn't like it at all. I found myself rooting for Lilith and wishing she won but ::SPOILER ALERT:: she doesn't. No instead she get offed and much like the other day SX ma kina evils can't I don't think she can actually die, but who knows, we might see her later on sometime, much like how he ended up seeing Mephisto again. Yeah, Blizzard made sure to plug as much of Diablo 2 into this Diablo 4 game as a possibly, cuz you know, got to milk that franchise and all that. I will give them props. On one thing, there were several instances in this game where I actually ended up crying, because I was like, "Why? Why did you kill that character you fucker? I liked that one."

I did, however, find a lot more enjoyment out of the side quests in the game, which there are plenty of. There were actually a few side quests that really got me and made me cringe a little. Cringe, as in, Great Cthulhu, that is gross! Still not that bad. I enjoy gross sometimes.

2. The Gameplay

🤢🤮🤮🤮🤧

I am sorry you got to give me a second, sometimes when I think about the gameplay it makes you want to puke.

Ok, so normally, blizzard is known for releasing beautiful games. They release games that are good, they look good, they play good, their story is at least adequate, however, I can't say the same for this one. I don't know what happened, and I don't know where they drop the ball. I mean, its still plays like your normal dungeon runner. I really don't know where they went wrong or where to even start, so here's a try.

They brought several elements from Diablo and mortal into the game that I don't mind. It makes it more fun in multiplayer, since if I really wanted to do multiplayer, which is not what I normally like to do with Diablo games. Seriously it's all multiplayer now. 🤢🤮 I really don't think they play tested this game enough because the overwhelming amount of glitches I have found in this game is astonishing for blizzard game. That's not even the worst part. They make you so underpowered at the beginning that everything is a struggle. Unless you run through the entire game and collect every single Lilith statue, you can find then you'll become OP in the game feels like an normal Diablo game. Oh, and collecting all the Lilith statues is pretty dag-on hard unless you get your horse, which you won't get until after act 3, then running all over the ginormous freaking world map that they are creating and probably plan on creating more of sanctuary to go with it as time goes on, or they end up scrapping the whole thing because they screwed up so bad to begin with. Knowing Blizzard, they might do that. I'm seriously starting to think that blizzard is becoming as bad as Netflix, but that's a gripe for another time.

Another huge problem, I see with this right now is the grind after you hit level 50. From level 50 to 100, you have to grind and grind and grind, and it is so tedious, that after reaching level 60, I was like, fuck this I'm out. I'm not out out but I am definitely not going to waste all my time grinding to 100.

As much as I seem to like the horse on the console version, there seems to be a huge problem with the horse just going in general. Like you, you click on the horse and it just stops or it's super slow, and you end up getting hit by all the creatures you're trying to run from or you're just, what is the word I'm thinking of? inconvenienced in a way that it's really irritating.

The Butcher

So like how I said they make you very underpowered and very challenging, I don't mind a good challenge, but when you're getting wrecked by everything when you first start playing your favorite class from the other several games, you can't help but get really frustrated with Diablo 4. Like when you first run into The Butcher and you are running around very underpowered and then he proceeds to makes you his bitch. That really sucks.

3. Graphics

The graphics in this game are actually really beautiful. I love the cut scenes, I love what they've done, blizzard has really come a long way, and it shows. I really do love the fact that they have a giant open world to run around in, and the events that they do are really fun, I love the particle effects. I love that they put so much effort into it, but I also think they could have done more with that least the character creation, but that has nothing do with graphics.

[rage-mode-138]

I hear you. I'm in a similar boat with Adele. Her songs and voice grat on my ears, and I can't stand how sad most of her early stuff is. It's not sad in the way that actually makes me feel emotions, but sad in the way that makes me feel like I'm watching a toddler cry because they didn't get a toy right away because it's being washed.

Honestly, it would be better if it made me feel some type of way other then annoyed. But it's trying to be sad and empowering at the same time and just all around feels like a cluster fuck of songs.

Her new work sometimes is tolerable as it's less about how sad and lonely she is, but there's still something there in her music that doesn't feel genuine to me.

now whenever you say you dont like a band the first thing people will is ask ‘omg did they do something bad?’ no theyre just kinda ass

[cordycepsfem]

There are times being actually feminist feels more exhausting than others.

I feel like everybody now knows of that young woman who prostitutes herself on OF and who, a while ago, created content by having sex (?) with a hundred men. Recently a documentary was made about her, and in it she was interviewed and said that she would detach from her body, that by the end of it she was completely disconnected from her mind, that she was never the same after having gone through that.

I think that's perfectly understandable, and I feel a lot of pity for her. She was sold the idea that prostitution and taped sexual violence are empowering, and by the time she realized they were not, she was in too deep. I feel sorry for her. I feel terrible for her.

Still, she also announced that she was excited to say that she plans to repeat the project and this time do it with 1000 men.

At this point, what can anyone even do, to help her? Women came forward and tried to help, supported her, held her hand, cried for her. And despite everything, she's still living for the perverted gratification of men and "cannot wait" to get back to producing material for it.

It feels like watching those tiktoks of women who film coming home to their husbands and finding absolutely thrashed kitchens and living rooms, their babies crying because they've been sitting in shit-filled diapers for hours, and their husbands playing video games. We already know they won't leave their husbands, won't even try to set a boundary, won't do anything besides rake in views and use the empathy of other women for free therapy and validation.

At this point, what are we even supposed to do? How can we even help in a meaningful way? It feels exhausting to constantly show up for these women, help them get back on their feet, and then see them run to the monsters who caused them to crash in the first place.

First, what that woman did sounds horrifying and I hope she finds wise voices and a soft place to land before doing a video about 1000 men. Willingly engaging in self harm through dissociation and random sex seems so painful, and for what? There is not enough money for which I would detach myself from my body, even as much as I hate it some days.

Second, I think it does get really hard, and it can be difficult to look at a world where things are so obviously stacked against most of us, and see any possible way we can help.

I worked for a long time providing respite care for families with disabled children and young adults. These families had formed their own organization back in the 1990s to get the respite care the state wouldn't give them, and by doing so eventually were able to turn it into a business, where family members weren't the ones doing care for each other anymore.

I think of them, and of the story of the boy with the starfish, and the power that just one interaction, one action, one choice can have in my community.

I can't feed/shelter/educate/care for/help a thousand women at once. I can help one. If I join together with others we can do more.

I can't offer resources I don't have - I can only give what I have now. Together, pooling resources, we can do more.

I don't have all the answers, or the skills, or the money. But I can show up, over and over and over, and with others who will do the same, we can do more.

We don't get more light by extinguishing our own candle, no matter how dark the world is. We keep our light burning, and we wait to join it with others, until the darkness ends.

[anxiouspregnantlady]

4 weeks old!

well, i ended up waiting a week from the last post. baby girl was born at 39+4. 7 hour labor, 7 minutes of pushing. "powerful" is the midwife's word. it was all in all a terrific experience, healing, empowering, bonding. i am beyond grateful. no tears. even so, i have had to take resting seriously - any kind of mild walking in the first couple weeks was NOT welcome by my uterus. i am definitely turning a corner, feeling much more intact, and really looking forward to increasing movement in the next couple of weeks.

so much to write. i'll begin right here in this moment - monday early afternoon, just finished folding laundry while re-watching pachinko season 1 (after re-reading the book after watching season 2), i'm still so immersed in this world for some reason... i think it is a story of women (among many other things obviously), and the suffering of women, and that is what is really resonating with me. i have two daughters now. meimei is lying on the floor on her quilt made by aunty S, just rousing from milk-induced slumber, she is impossibly cute and delightful, i really wasn't prepared to fall so hard in love with another baby. man, the hormones are such a trip. i am tearing up now just thinking about how much i love her.

anyway, the birth has been written about in great detail elsewhere... she was born 6lb 13oz, much smaller than i'd expected, with a thick crop of almost-curly black hair. she has been fairly easygoing so far, with some windows of fussiness, but rather than crying at length she makes these punctuated exclamations, "AYE!" "EIH!" " AEIY!" which are endearing and heartbreaking. she's pretty sleepy, much sleepier than i remember phillipa being. first week was a bit mad, tested coombs positive putting her at higher risk for jaundice, her numbers were borderline enough for her to keep needing heel pricks & blood tests for bili, but in the end she didn't need phototherapy. i now know this is quite common (esp for asian babies) but it just felt like such an ordeal i think because we didn't give birth at the hospital and so even getting the blood test was difficult / full of friction & we didn't know really whom to call or where to go or how it would be, plus phototherapy would mean getting admitted inpatient. we paged the midwife line one night bc she wasn't pooping and we really needed her to poop...julie was so kind and helpful and we ended up giving 2oz of formula that night (my milk was still coming in, i think this was day 2 or 3), which instantly caused her to do several poops. i think this was instrumental in her being able to clear her bili.

she was a good eater from day 1 though latching was not easy, i'm grateful to nurse kelly who came on day 2 and helped me latch. pain has been within the threshold of normal for the most part. she has a tongue tie but still good suction and great tongue movement, so it isn't really bothering us. she's so sleepy though and usually can't make it to the second boob. we definitely do a lot of snacking throughout the day, eating from one boob, snoozing, trying the other 45-60 mins later, et cetera ad infinitum, although this is getting better with persistence and encouragement, i don't believe in waking her up TOO much (unless it's critical for her growth) and if she wants to snack during the day i'm ok with that. next level will be learning how to nurse in the carrier. maybe should've gotten a ring sling. i am enjoying breastfeeding for the most part, and i am much more comfortable + confident breastfeeding in front of my family / other people / in public than the first time around; i should probably use more pillows to save my neck. my supply seems to be about the same as it was with phillipa, aka just about enough. i haven't been freezing any milk but we haven't needed to supplement. i'm on top of my game this time re: avoiding plugged ducts and such. anyway we are nursing so frequently it isn't really a problem.. but last week i went to pick phillipa from school alone and we hung out at a cafe for a bit. my boobs were SO unhappy. it's like they knew i was away from my baby. i was randomly letting down in the cafe and just in pain/discomfort, even though it was only about 1.5-2hours. other thing i've learned - bras matter. the target bras i wore last time are TOO TIGHT and give me extra discomfort. anyway, we nurse around the clock except for 2 3-oz bottles, one before her bedtime and one for the first wakeup (~930pm and 1am but still varies so much), and i pump 1 or 2 times during that window. it's working for us! i like our system of dr browns glass bottles and the tommee tippee super low tech bottle warmer.

sleep. focusing a lot more on OUR sleep instead of hers this time, takes the pressure off trying to 'improve' her sleep. she did her first 5 hour stretch this past weekend though which is incredible. still at the point where i couldn't necessarily sleep through all or even most of it because i was woken by my boobs, but we'll get there. i am feeling pretty good actually. she sleeps in her love to dream swaddle and can nap lying down at least once a day (first nap), sometimes around lunchtime too. otherwise we hold her or wear her.

phillipa. was having a really really difficult time the first 3 weeks, screaming a lot...had to lean in and just accept and ride it out, try to show her a lot of love and patience but also be firm that this is the way her world is going to be from now on.

to be continued.. need to eat while she's still sleeping

[eliink]

(𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆)

Why do I feel like every time I try my best, I still fail? I'm always there for people I truly care about, trying my best to be a great friend for them. But do they really appreciate me? Do they appreciate me because I truly helped them, or because they just appreciate that I can free my time for them every time they needed me? I am emotionally, mentally, and physically available for other people, but for myself… I don’t know. I tend to sacrifice everything for other people without thinking if they truly deserve it. I hate that I care too much and get attached, even though I don't have to. I always say I could easily detach myself, but when it comes to the actual situation, I just couldn't stop crying anymore. Yes, people come and go, but why? Is my presence not enough? Or is there something lacking in me? I am known as the jokester, energetic, and as an emotionally intelligent person, but when it comes to dealing with my own shit, I always fail. I am proud of myself for giving good advice to people, but applying those in my own situation is more difficult than it seems.

I never take the risk because I know if it fails, I can't deal with the consequences anymore. Maybe one of the reasons why I still haven't found someone for me yet (although it's not that important) is because I'm the problem. I don't want to risk something. It's not because they're not worth the risk; it's because I overthink too much. I can't focus on the present moments with them; I tend to overthink our future and the uncertainties that might happen. I stop myself from taking the risk because I'm scared that my past will just repeat itself.

At this point, I don’t know how to love someone anymore. I focus too much on loving and empowering myself to the point that I don't need someone with me anymore. But the real thing is, I also need to feel genuine love from someone that I never feel from my mom, dad, siblings, and family. I don’t know who to love anymore because of my trauma. I generalize all the boys that come into my life now. "They're all the same. Them caring about me will also pass as well as their feelings." My mind is stuck in the saying "prevention is better than cure"; for me to prevent getting more attached, I'll just distance myself even though it hurts me. If that shitty situation happens again, I don’t know who to ask for help anymore.

Why can't I just have a fun talk with somebody!? I always bring up some depressing shit that might bore them, and then they think I'm emo or edgy. I know most of my friends told me that they can be there for me 24/7, but I can't just vent everything to them; they have to deal with their own conflicts too. So what now? Why can't I just live peacefully and leave my past in the past? I swear to God, my life is just a cycle of bullshit experiences that happen to me over and over again. Can I avoid it? Am I manifesting it to happen again? Is this another challenge from God for me? Is it my fault? Is that why it's happening again? I don’t know anymore. That doesn't mean your friend is always there for you; you can vent anytime. Give boundaries and respect their time too. If you take too much, they might judge you.

When will it be my turn to be their priority and to be loved? I want someone who thinks that we both deserve each other. I don’t care if we don't have similarities as long as we can make and build our relationship together. As long as we help each other grow, I'm okay with it. As long as we're both honest and trust each other, I'm okay with it. Is this too much to ask?

______________________________________________________________

I will be making more rants series coz it helps me to unwind and pour all my emotions through writings. This is how I handle my feelings, instead of covering my face with a pillow, sobbing, ranting in front of my 3ft. bear, I just open my notes or get a pen and paper to express what I feel. This really helps me. Sometimes I look back at my notes, read it and I feel a satisfied that I get through that with a little pity for myself since I've been through that phase.

[artist-issues]

Okay I agree with a few of your points but I'm going to pipe back in and say, though nobody asked me to:

The movie is not about woman empowerment. Not in any progressive or modern sense of that word.

The virtue of Snow White, as a character, is very clearly her faith and her purity. To put it a way that's more "accepted," or specific, you could say her virtues are: "a positive attitude, and genuineness --wearing her heart on her sleeve."

You can tell that that's what the movie is all about--not "women empowerment"--because of the scenes specifically drawn and recorded to show off Snow White reacting to things. So that the audience observes her faith and purity, emphasized.

It's why she first encounters a lost bluebird who is crying, and gives it the same advice that she later acts on, herself: "Please don't cry. Your mama and papa can't be far."

Which boils down to: "Why despair, even in the scariest circumstances, if there's someone out there who loves you? Rely on them. They'll come through."

And then that's exactly what the "Someday My Prince WILL Come" Princess lives by, when she's in her own set of scary circumstances. It's faith.

That's the point of her character, and applies to men and women, boys and girls, abused and beloved. It's "don't let your circumstances define who you are and what you do: choose to have faith in love, instead."

I mean, Snow White is not rewarded in any special way, by the narrative, for running away. And let's be honest. It wasn't even her idea.

She didn't take the power to choose into her own hands and bravely set out, with a plan in mind--she was stunned, and the Huntsman came up with the idea for her to run into the forest, and she listened to him in a blind panic. The point of that scene is not "look how strong she is, to run away from her bad situation, when other girls of that time period would've never done it!" That's just...not the point.

And if it had been (it's not) the point, that wouldn't be helpful to abused kids. Some people in abusive situations cannot run away. They cannot "empower themselves." In their circumstances, asking them to "empower themselves to run for safety" would be like asking them to sprout wings. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to fight with you here, but I'm just trying to point out: it would be like that.

Snow White was never about a girl brave enough to run for safety. It just wasn't. It was about something deeper and truer and broader than that. Just like the right thing that she does, which the narrative rewards, was never her "finding" a family who loved her. She doesn't do that. The animals lead her there. And then she chooses to give them her love--because she initially thinks they're orphans and then feels sorry for them--she does not do anything based solely on what they can do for her, or offer her--not even if what they offered was love. She, like most selfless heroines that were missing today, was concerned with what kindness she could do them.

Of course, there's some hope for herself in there. She does say "maybe they'll let me stay." But that was not her first thought, and it was not the emphasis of the narrative.

We just like to look back at rich, pure, simply truthful stories and pick out the things that fit in our modern-value boxes. So, we have a modern-value box: it's called "Women Empowerment." And when we like a character from something that is not modern, like Snow White, we go, "I like her, so now I must figure out how to put her into that modern-virtue box, whether or not she was ever created to fit." Why? Because if she doesn't fit in the box, she's somehow "not worth liking."

Well, unfortunately, that's the same mindset modern Disney started with when they made this remake: "if she doesn't fit in the modern-virtue box, we have to correct her." And it's bull. And that's where this all went wrong.

So yeah, politely, I agree with some of your points. But if I were you, I'd analyze what the whole of the Snow White movie and character is really about, separate from what we value nowadays--and then decide if you still like her. I think you're right about Zegler and Disney and the fandom. I just don't know if you're 100% right about the fairy tale.

I Hate How She Talks About Snow White

"People are making these jokes about ours being the PC Snow White, where it's like, yeah, it is − because it needed that. It's an 85-year-old cartoon, and our version is a refreshing story about a young woman who has a function beyond 'Someday My Prince Will Come. "

Let me tell you a little something's about that "85-year-old cartoon," miss Zegler.

It was the first-ever cel-animated feature-length full-color film. Ever. Ever. EVER. I'm worried that you're not hearing me. This movie was Disney inventing the modern animated film. Spirited Away, Into the Spider-Verse, Tangled, you don't get to have any of these without Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937.)

Speaking of what you wouldn't get without this movie, it includes anime as a genre. Not just in technique (because again, nobody animated more than shorts before this movie) but in style and story. Anime, as it is now, wouldn't exist without Osamu Tezuka, "The God of Manga," who wouldn't have pioneered anime storytelling in the 1940s without having watched and learned from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs in the 1930s. No "weeb" culture, no Princess Mononoke, no DragonBall Z, no My Hero Academia, no Demonslayer, and no Naruto without this "85-year-old cartoon."

It was praised, not just for its technical marvels, not just for its synchronized craft of sound and action, but primarily and enduringly because people felt like the characters were real. They felt more like they were watching something true to life than they did watching silent, live-action films with real actors and actresses. They couldn't believe that an animated character could make kids wet their pants as she flees, frightened, through the forest, or grown adults cry with grieving Dwarves. Consistently.

Walt Disney Studios was built on this movie. No no; you're not understanding me. Literally, the studio in Burbank, out of which has come legends of this craft of animated filmmaking, was literally built on the incredible, odds-defying, record-breaking profits of just Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, specifically.

Speaking of record-breaking profits, this movie is the highest-grossing animated film in history. Still. TO THIS DAY. And it was made during the Great Depression.

In fact, it made four times as much money than any other film, in any other genre, released during that time period. It was actually THE highest-grossing film of all time, in any genre, until nothing less than Gone With the Wind, herself, came along to take the throne.

It was the first-ever animated movie to be selected for the National Film Registry. Actually, it was one of the first movies, period, to ever go into the registry at all. You know what else is in the NFR? The original West Side Story, the remake of which is responsible for Rachel Ziegler's widespread fame.

Walt Disney sacrificed for this movie to be invented. Literally, he took out a mortgage on his house and screened the movie to banks for loans to finish paying for it, because everyone from the media to his own wife and brother told him he was crazy to make this movie. And you want to tell me it's just an 85-year-old cartoon that needs the most meaningless of updates, with your tender 8 years in the business?

Speaking of sacrifice, this movie employed over 750 people, and they worked immeasurable hours of overtime, and invented--literally invented--so many new techniques that are still used in filmmaking today, that Walt Disney, in a move that NO OTHER STUDIO IN HOLLYWOOD was doing in the 30's, put this in the opening credits: "My sincere appreciation to the members of my staff whose loyalty and creative endeavor made possible this production." Not the end credits, like movies love to do today as a virtue-signal. The opening credits.

It's legacy endures. Your little "85-year-old cartoon" sold more than 1 million DVD copies upon re-release. Just on its first day. The Beatles quoted Snow White in one of their songs. Legacy directors call it "the greatest film ever made." Everything from Rolling Stones to the American Film Institute call this move one of the most influential masterpieces of our culture. This movie doesn't need anything from anybody. This movie is a cultural juggernaut for America. It's a staple in the art of filmmaking--and art, in general. It is the foundation of the Walt Disney Company, of modern children's media in the West, and of modern adaptations of classical fairy tales in the West. When you think only in the base, low, mean terms of "race" and "progressivism" you start taking things that are actually worlds-away from being in your league to judge, and you relegate them to silly ignorant phrases like "85-year-old cartoon" to explain why what you're doing is somehow better.

Sit down and be humble. Who the heck are you?

[atmymercy]

Hello again honey, First i would like to thankyou for being so sweet and generous with me. I really appreciate your time, efforts and energy that you put in doing my reading!!

Awww!! thankyou for the compliment as well, that is just so sweet of you. Receiving compliments about your energy really makes your day, and infact i do agree that choosing a certain card is not so easy because every tarot card had it's very own beauty to it. But I would say the card you chose definitely RESONATES well with your energy and your nature.

And here's a feedback for the reading; Tbh my future Spouse is really sweet and supporting him saying that we can chace stroms together later just made me go emotional but at the same time the reading was very empowering, made me realise my own potential and how strong i really am. The reading was resonating, I do have been experiencing some doubts and stuff regarding almost everything but the way your words and his words empowered me I'm just so greatful. The reading was actually a relief, and beautiful. The fact the reading resonated sm with the empress card i can't. The words..OMG!! I want this man rn and kiss him hard.

Love you love, you are definitely a gentleman. And i love you already. 🤍🧿

Thankyou so much once again to you because it was you that represented his messages in such a beautiful way. Very very greatful. Hope you have an amazing day/night ahead lovely. The interactions with you are just soo sweet. 🥰

hello jasmine!

awww! thank you for calling me sweet and generous! that means so much to me that you can see that and recognize that in me! aww! you're going to make me cry! lol and thank you so much for recognizing my efforts, time and energy! that is so sweet and i appreciate you and your words so much!

ooh i was happy to compliment you, honey! i could feel the effort and focus you put into your ask and it shows! it really is fun when somebody notices your energy and takes the time to express it as well! your empress beauty is there, honey! and strong! probably a superpower of yours! lol

aww i'm so glad that the reading connected with you so much that it made you emotional! you know it's something true and personal when that happens and i'm so happy i could just be apart of the process to help you! you are empowered! so be careful not to disempower yourself in the process! you should be a relief to yourself a sanctuary!

and he does sound like a sweetie! your gentlemen to help calm the storm! i'm so glad he could do that for you today! woot!

my pleasure, honey! i'm so glad you decided to participate and join another of my giveaway! woot! aww! i love being called sweet! i hope you come back again soon, honey!

love & light!

-tea

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