#complexity is still for men alone i guess

[sambargestuff]

This video essay is great and all but...                                        

If we're going to retcon Cassian's line from R1 "I've been in this fight since I was 6 yrs old,"  to mean that he was always resisting the Empire from the time his parents were killed then wouldn't Jyn have been in the fight just as long?

Because by that definition, Jyn was in the fight from the time she was 8 yrs old, when her mother was killed, her father left to work for the Empire, and Jyn literally became a child soldier in Gerrara's cell.  When Cassian was being cared for by Clem and Maarva, Jyn was an actual child soldier, actually in the fight as part of the resistance to the Empire.  

She didn't abandon the fight either.  Saw abandoned her.  So she spent the next few years getting by but engaging in anti-imperial activities; like Cassian was doing when Luthen found him. She found and lost family, just like Cassian did. When the Rebellion found Jyn, she wasn't living a life of privilege, ignoring the harshness of the Empire in Niamos (like Cassian did after Aldhani).  She was in jail for forging Imperial documents and assaulting imperial personnel while resisting arrest. 

How is that not being in the fight, if we use the retconned definition of "in the fight"?

When she tells Saw you can ignore imperial flags "if you don't look up," she is clearly speaking from a place of anger at him and is trying to hurt him.  She doesn’t want him to know that what he taught her; the way he raised her, continues to inform her behaviour but it does.  Her actions up to that point show that, as much as she hates the Rebellion (for which she has cause to remember) she hates the Empire more; just like Cassian when Luthen found him.  Before the scene with Saw, she intervenes in a firefight to save a child; a child that Cassian would have left to die.  That's who Jyn Erso is before she sees Galen's message.  So when she sees her father is alive and hasn't forgotten her, it's not much of a change for her to be committed to getting him from Eadu and smashing the Empire. 

Why don't we acknowledge that at the moment that he’s declaring “suddenly the Rebellion is real for you”, Cassian is trying to defend unethical actions by the Rebellion and himself? He starts by gas-lighting her (”You’re in shock. I’ve seen it before.”) and then insisting she respect his position as a Rebel like she hasn't been a rebel since she was 8 yrs old at least. The rebellion (lower case “r”) has been as real for Jyn as it has been for Cassian since she was 8 yrs old.

I think people are uncomfortable with Jyn because she's a complex female character and, even in the 3rd decade of the 21st century, we like our women likeable rather than complex.  Also, she’s angry and unapologetic about it.  She's angry at her parents for leaving her.  She's angry at Saw for the same reason.  And, in case anyone has forgotten, she's angry at Cassian because in the scene prior to Cassian declaring, somewhat dubiously it appears, that he's "been in this fight since [he] as 6 yrs old," he lied to her and almost killed her father. Also, he's a stand in for the Rebellion, who actually did just kill her father 

I agree with the video that the filmmakers treated Jyn's character poorly. I guess that's why we got Andor and not Erso as the prequel series, even though it appears they had very similar arcs.  It's just more interesting when a man does it, I guess

[biblicalhorror]

Thinking about one of the loser men I dated directly post-college who, after I showed them Dirty Computer [the emotion picture] by Janelle Monae, said they "prefer rap that has something to say"

[therealslimshakespeare]

Hi! I’m an environmental eng girly myself so I’m sort of very interested in this (and also a new reader so please bear with me if I’m lacking on some knowledge here). The 1950s were just generally a very interesting time for women in stem/ engineering but obviously not great for equality still. For example, since you mentioned that Lu is from Texas, in the 1950s there were roughly 700 engineers working with the Highway Dpt of Texas and only THREE were women. So I’m curious, how does Lu handle/ cope with being in a field that would have her be surrounded entirely by men? She would very likely be the only women in most of her classes and professional endeavours. And I know you mentioned that when she works on that Twisters inspired Tornado project with those military boys, all of them love and adore her which I LOVE! Because she’s so smart and such a genius so it makes my heart really happy to see that that allows her to command respect 🥰 But in college, how does she manage being in a space with all these guys who might not all respect her (god like uni eng guys are a special brand of asshole, I’m not saying all of them but some…). Because I’m being so real- that is still an issue in engineering and still something that my girl friends and I have experienced/ felt 😅 And then also with environmental engineering specifically a lot of the work is sort of… rural and isolated. Like you won’t be working in a big crowded space a lot of the time. And being with all those guys, (also like… again, college guys are just a special brand of asshole? I feel like every girl would be out of her comfort zone if she were to be around only them, even now) is that something that induces anxiety for her? Does she ever worry that “putting herself in that position” is inviting anything similar to the horrific violence she’s already gone through? And then on the fluffier side, HOW does she persevere?! Because again we know she wasn’t doing well? I get the vibes from the asks that she was genuinely very depressed and not at all in a good place. So I’m just so intrigued by this era of hers. Anyways this is sooo long and convoluted feel free to ignore it haha. It’s just something that is so interesting to me I love this woman in stem so much 🥰 But yeah I’m interested in her college days and how she handles her horrible mental health, a very very shitty boyfriend and THIS on top of it all.

Oh and to add, we know that Ida worries for her often (along with the rest of the trinity), is she ever concerned about Lu being in those sorts of situations? Because Ida has so much complex trauma of her own (remember in Hardwoods how she has that thought that being alone with men is courting violence!!!!!!!!!!!) and she had to SEE Lu being assaulted? Just wondering because I love these two. And the rest of the trinity I guess. I know my parents would be🤧

Aaaaah see now you’re educating me about the Texan engineering!!! Omg that’s so cool. I knew it had to be slim pickings but goodness, three? Yeah, wow, ok then Lu, ya got your work cut out for you. Also, Nonnie, you’re so cool, I feel special for you gracing my inbox 🥰

Oh yes, just from acquaintance I am somewhat familiar with the engineer bro vibe, ha. Having come from the army has to help her a little. So far in the story we’ve focused on all the boys who love and take care of the girls as integrated into themselves, but you know there were the assholes in the 100th about it and you KNOW there were absolute pigs in the stalag, too. So it’s not a fully new issue. But, somehow this is even more secluded, likely? So, it’s intense.

I think she’s already very withdrawn during this era so she’s not trying to make friends with them all, if they’re assholes she does her best to keep her head down and then enjoys smoking them at tests or in the field. If they wanna play a practical joke to sabotage her?!- oh well, they shouldn’t have picked on Bucky Egan’s daughter. But omg, for all these women there’s the question of if they’re inviting that violence again by pursuing these careers and that’s so horrible to even be considered but it’s so real!!! My girl has her brass knuckles though, the (pretty worthless social friends from Spencer’s crowd) and a will of iron. This is the field she wants to work in, she always did and she happened to go to kindergarten in war for it but by god she’s gonna keep at it through college.

Also. Not wanting to fail. I think depressed and miserable as she might’ve been, failing (she’s so like Gale lemme go scream) would be worse than anything that could happen to her while she was trying. She’s so dogged about it, and this is something of her own, it’s not her crew and it’s not her squadron, it’s her. She’s doing this, and she might as well not get up again if she fails, I think is her attitude…when she’s so down, ya know?

Ida…for a long time Ida lives in a world where everyone could potentially be awful. She can’t contextualize it well. It takes a massive toll on her mental and bodily health, that constant alertness and suspicion and stress. Being in Germany likely only exacerbates that, tbh. Nice thought Rosie but, she’s having some severe ptsd just living amongst the language every day. 😭

[imagineinside]

Eternal Claws (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

A/N (PLEASE READ): Hey guys! This is my first time writing for Wolverine... so please be nice, I am at your mercy lol. This is also an A/O/B fanfic, where the mutants also have a secondary gender that would have developed at the same time as their mutations (this is not the main part of the story though). My intention is for this to be a longer running fanfiction, as well as a verryyyyy slow burn :). If that doesn't sound like your cup of tea, then I will also be working on some oneshots soon, which you are more than welcome to give me some ideas to write about! Please let me know your feedback, I sincerely appreciate it!! :D

Summary: At a young age of 16, you find yourself saved from a group of hunters by no other mutant than The Wolverine, who reluctantly becomes your protector during your first heat. As weeks pass and you recover, a complex bond forms between yourself and the powerful mutant who had saved you.

Seven years later, now a confident young woman with refined mutant abilities, you encounter Wolverine again. Despite your growth and newfound strength, old feelings resurface as Wolverine returns from a secretive mission. As you navigate the challenges of your powers and your unspoken connection with him, you must come to terms with your past and the burgeoning feelings that might redefine your future.

Current Applicable Warnings: 18+ (not an explicit story yet, but there are hints of things in the upcoming chapters), canon-typical violence, age gap (like 200+ with a 25 yr old), Alpha!Logan, Omega!Reader, a/o/b universe, more to come.

Word Count: 2,884 we just getting started pookie

It was your unlucky day that The Wolverine was the mutant to find you alone out in the woods.

But it was lucky he got to you before the four hunters found you first, the sour tang of their arousal burning his sensitive nose. When he saw you laying in the fresh layer of snow, your body coated in sweat from your first heat (at least he guessed it was your first by how small and frail you were at the time), and your own honey-sweet scent drifting through the trees, he knew he was already in too deep with you.

“No,” you groaned, pushing against his chest in an attempt to protect yourself. The Wolverine would never admit it, but he actually felt a surge of empathy for the frail thing he held in his arms. 

He would definitely give Professor X a piece of his mind for selecting him of all mutants to go on this fetch quest to get you. Of course, there was no way of knowing you were on the brink of heat with a hoard of hungry men after you.

“The snow…” you mumbled as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt with what little strength you had. You were so precious, your face flushed a bright pink, an image he would never forget. “It’s too hot…”

The Wolverine groaned in frustration as you pushed yourself out of his arms and flopped back on the cold, hard forest floor where the four hunters' dead bodies lay not far from you now. He watched as you slowly made a circle of snow around yourself, most of it melting to the touch with the heat of your body temperature. He had seen this dance too many times to feign ignorance.

“Hey, bub,” he called out as he squatted on a nearby fallen tree, “I need to take you out of here before more charming men come to find you.”

It was as if you didn’t even hear him as you continued your work on the ground, bunching the snow up to help with your heat.

The Wolverine sighed and hung his head, accepting his fate as your caretaker for the next week in the unforgiving Alaskan wild…

* * *

It’s nearly an exact week later by the time you are back to your full senses. And it isn’t alone, either. From behind you there’s a rhythmic breathing and a cold presence sedating the still-burning embers inside you. All your joints are sore and there is still an empty aching from deep inside you, though you do your best not to focus on that specific ache.

In one quick flourish of movement, you quickly grab your shirt that you had at some point ripped off from excess heat and shuffled away from the… beast laying next to you.

“Relax,” the giant man groaned, rolling onto his back, “I was just here to prot-”

Acting on pure instinct, having just woken from a daze, you reached out and slapped him–hard–across the face. Enough to make the man, who is at least a good foot taller than you, stop dead in his tracks.

You watched as the muscles in his jaws flexed over and over before he slowly flicked his eyes back to you, “Fuck you sure got a powerful slap on ya there.”

Catching your breath, you looked around at your surroundings. There were deep gouges in sets of three on the nearby trees, on the ground, markings left in the general area… the smell of a strong male everywhere. “You were protecting me…” you mumbled more to yourself than him, yet he still caught the comment from under your breath.

“Glad you caught on, sweetheart,” he grumbled as he stood and slung on his leather jacket that was laid across a nearby stump. “Listen, I chased you and those four guys,” he said, gesturing with his shoulders to a group of four very dead men on the outskirts of your nest, drawing a gasp from your lips, “through these woods to save your sorry ass. And now I’m going to take you back so I can be done with this mission.”

“I am not going anywhere with you,” you all but growled as you slung on your shirt in as much grace as you could muster with how your legs and arms still felt as if they were made out of Jell-O. 

“Uh, yes. You are.” The man insisted, quirking his thick brow at you.

“Listen, whatever you came here for, you obviously got the wrong person–” a sharp pain to the back of your head is the first thing you registered as you were shoved up against a nearby tree at what felt like the speed of light. Despite knowing it’s futile, you fought against the hold he held across your chest, wriggling to be free.

“I’m gonna cut right to the chase. You just presented as a young Omega, which also means you are a mutant. Now I don’t need ya’ to show me what you do or whatever, I don’t really give a fuck, I just need to get you to safety since. That. Was. My. Job.” He growled back at you, spit flying in your face with each punctuation.

He must have watched as the fire in your eyes died out, since his grip loosened and he set you back onto the ground, turning slowly to retrieve the rest of his belongings.

“You’re The Wolverine, aren’t you?” You called out after him, just as you moved to gather the remaining's of your bag’s contents which had been spilled out across the ground–a hairbrush, tampons, two small bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and you’re only reminder of the life you once had before your mutant abilities took it away from you, a picture of you and your brother. 

You heard a deep grunt sound off behind you before an even rougher, “I am.”

A shiver ran down your spine at knowing who you were in the presence of… who had taken care of you during your first heat.

“We didn’t,” you cleared your throat as you turned to look at the mutant behind you, “we didn’t… do anything, right?”

“No,” came the quick response as The Wolverine lit a cigar and leaned up against a tree. He must be waiting for you to follow him, most likely. “I don’t find satisfaction in taking advantage of people. Not like those four over there.” He once again gestured towards the four rotting corpses lying face down in the snow.

A gag threatened to spill what little food and water you had ingested over the past week all over the ground.

Heaving your bag over your shoulders, you took a few steps towards your savior–captor?–and began following him through the dense trees, out towards either your salvation or your doom. You weren’t sure which it was going to be yet.

* * *

It ended up being about an hour walk to a beat up old Chevy that was parked on the side of the road. Following your captors lead, you slipped into the passenger seat and watched as the world you knew went by in flashes of snow and trees.

It took another three or four hours–you weren’t really sure how long, since you were in and out of sleep for a lot of it–to reach one of the few airports in Alaska. Along the way, you also learned The Wolverine was taking you to a school for young mutants like yourself, where you could learn more about your abilities and how to use them. 

You weren’t sure you really liked the idea of using your powers ever again…

“Does it ever get easier?” You asked quietly with your head resting up against the window as you pulled up to the rental car return.

You heard him pull the parking brake and let out an exasperated sigh. Yeah, well I’m not a huge fan of you either, you wanted to snap at him. “What does?” He asked with a sidelong glare.

“Killing,” you whispered, as if the mere mention of it would bring death upon you. Flashes of your brother's screaming face play behind your eyelids every time you blink.

There was a long beat of silence, so long that you ended up looking over at the driver seat just to make sure he hadn’t gotten out of the car and left you there alone. “No, it doesn’t,” he whispered back.

You grabbed your only belongings and followed after your captor onto the tarmac, where the classiest and sleekest silver plane you have ever seen was waiting for you. If you weren’t so damn terrified of flying, this would probably be one of the coolest moments of your so-far short life. The second you boarded the private jet, The Wolverine beelined for the crystal jar full of some type of whiskey. You mentally gagged at the mere thought of the terrible taste of that amber liquid.

“Want some?” your captor asked as he poured himself a generous quadruple shot.

You shook your head violently as you took a seat towards the front of the plane against the wall, so you had a clear line of sight of the rest of the aircraft. The Wolverine sat on the opposite side of the small cabin. Or maybe he just made it look small with how his head scraped the top of the ceiling, and his broad shoulders were spilling over the seat.

“What will happen to me when I get there?” You dared to ask.

“Professor X will take care of you.” Perhaps he heard how your heartbeat picked up its pace as your hands gripped the armrests tighter, making the leather squeak under your sweaty hands. “Relax, not like that.” The man sighed in frustration as he chugged down his liquor and went for a second glass. “Here’s what will happen. Professor X will give you a chance to go on special mutant-safe inhibitors for your new…” the man flicked his gaze to you, “secondary gender, if you so wish. He’ll ask to see your abilities to see the extent to which we will need to keep you and others around you safe.” Once he finished pouring his glass, he returned to his seat, staring at you from across the cabin.

“There’s no one around me that I care to keep safe anymore, sir.” You whispered to him. “I failed all of them.”

The Wolverine seemed at a loss for words after your admission, instead he simply said, “Best for you to get some rest.”

And flicked off the lights.

* * *

You weren’t necessarily sure what you were expecting, but a giant mansion that looked like it was born for the Old-Money-Rich generation was not it. It felt like your head was on a swivel as you drove towards the complex. You saw people–mutants, like you–out playing in the spacious yard, in the pond, others in the sky. Which made you suddenly jealous of your own powers.

An even greater surprise were the friendly greetings thrown your way, or rather to The Wolverine standing beside you. You knew he was a well-respected mutant, but you thought it was in the way of “don’t cross me and I won’t kill you” way. Not in the, “six year old's love me” type way. Which was very much the case with the way the younger mutants were running up the grisly man and crawling up his legs.

“Not now, alright,” he grumbled as he peeled them one-by-one off his legs and proceeded to guide you towards a large door hidden in an alcove to the right. “Professor X is just through that door.”

He said it in a way that had your alarm bells ringing, and as he turned to walk away you reached out and grabbed his arm without thinking. “Stay.” You demanded, and then thought better of yourself and added, “please.”

You watched the debate go on behind his eyes, but with a deep sigh, it appeared this gentle giant decided to be your protector a little longer. Reaching forward, you balled your hand into a fist to knock. But before you could, a gentleman's voice called from behind the door, “Come in.”

Swallowing, you reached for the handle and strode into a quaint office room. The man who sat behind the desk was not at all what you had expected. You were expecting the monsters… the men who had taken your best friend… You shook your head to rid yourself of the thought. “Professor X, I’m–”

“I already know who you are,” the elderly man said, moving a joystick on his wheelchair to maneuver around his desk. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod.

“I can sense your unease, but I promise you do not need to hide here. We are mutants, just like you.” The Professor moved his wheelchair further forward, until he was within reaching distance. “I know you have a power that is greatly sought after. May I see?” He asked, and tapped his head.

You quickly pieced it together he must be one of the psychic mutants, and you dully nodded your head. You closed your eyes as he reached forward, his pointer and middle finger coming to rest against your left temple. For a brief moment, you are fearful you will have to relive all the memories he is about to see. But when nothing comes flashing behind your eyelids, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

After a couple moments passed, the Professor dropped his hand and opened his eyes, “I am sorry for the pain you have experienced in your short life so far.”

“I didn’t know at the time…” you began, but a sob threatened to come up your throat.

“You don’t need to talk to me about it, only if you are ready.” You nodded to him in gratitude before he turned back around to grab something from behind his desk. “I believe Logan should have told you about this,” Logan, that must be Wolverine’s real name, you thought to yourself, “but these are inhibitors for your secondary gender which would have presented the same day as your mutation. Please, only take these if you are comfortable. If not, we can make separate arrangements for your safety from other mutants.”

You reached forward and grabbed the small silver tin of round white pills and stuffed them in your bag. “What do you mean for my safety from other mutants?”

Professor X let out a sigh and eyeballed Wolverine–Logan–from over your head, “I see you left some of the harder questions for me to answer.”

“She wasn’t asking these questions to me, Professor,” was the snarky remark Logan bit back.

Professor X began calmly, “Well, you see, other mutants will have also displayed a secondary gender. Most of us are Betas, we do not experience heats or ruts and we are normal for everything but our mutant abilities. However, others are Omegas and Alphas. Omegas, such as yourself, need extra protection such as the inhibitors or being placed in a separate wing from the Alphas. The Alphas may also go on inhibitors, like Logan there, so an Omegas heat will not affect them.”

You shook your head violently, the words becoming jumbled in your mind. “I don’t understand. So I’m some fucked up other breed?”

“You are not ‘fucked up’, you are an additional step to evolution. Omegas are…” the Professor clears his throat, “meant to be very fertile, same with the Alphas.”

“I don’t want this,” You murmured, a single tear sliding down your face before you were able to swipe it away.

“I know,” the Professor replied solemnly, as if he could feel your pain and still-fresh grief. “All I want is to keep you safe.” Your mouth felt like it was running dry, your brain throbbing with all the information. “Now, would you be willing to show me what you can do?”

* * *

You had agreed to show the Professor your ability. He and Logan had taken you out to the courtyard, where a dead and brittle rose plant lay amongst the foliage.

“All I need you to do is revive the rose plant.” The Professor called out to you. Him and the Wolverine had stayed a good few yards away, upon your request. You didn’t need another person standing near you while this happens.

“Surely she can’t revive a dead plant…” came a response from Logan that had you gritting your teeth together. “That would mean she could revive a dead person.”

“With enough power and training,” you heard the Professor reply calmly, “perhaps she could.”

Little do they know, you thought spitefully.

Kneeling down to the ground, you placed one hand on the grass beside your feet, the other reaching upwards towards the rose bush. You let your mind fall somewhere between your burning rage and the feeling of cold serenity. As the flow of life began pouring through your arms, you saw flashes--images--of a younger Professor X. A younger garden. When this rose bush would have still been alive. You saw flashes of a blue girl with red hair and…

You felt your connection snap before your eyes opened, the rose bush now blooming with flowers and life. Revived from its grave.

But underneath you… the ground was withered and dead. The dirt like rough sand to the touch.

Your power. A life for a life.

[anisespice]

“ headshot ” || tokyo rev. 

synopsis: how the bonten execs. would react to a gun being pointed at you/your head. 

pairing: bonten x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, gun violence, reader cries in some, mentions of bodily harm (only on the antags), and i think that’s it

notes: thought of this while on a car ride, staring at trees…not sure what that says about me, but here she is lol i’m a little iffy on mikey’s since i think his was the shortest, but i liked keeping some of these open-ended. hope you enjoy!

manjiro ッ 

Wouldn’t react much on the outside, but on the inside that man could probably melt a building with his rage alone. It occurred during a small gathering amongst investors, corrupt and all. You had been by his side throughout the whole night until you left to go to the bathroom…that was several minutes ago. He’s already a paranoid man, so the moment the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, he gave Sanzu a pointed look—Find her.  

However, that wouldn’t be necessary. 

Before the cotton candy-haired gangster even had time to get excited about the potential hunt, some bootlicker came barreling through the crowd with you in a headlock, and a gun pressed into your temple. Both of you looked disheveled, no doubt your doing from putting up a good fight, he proudly noted. The fucker probably ambushed you in the bathroom, taking his opportunity when you left Mikey’s side—Pussy-ass bitch. He didn’t know if the guy was bold or just plain stupid standing smack-dab in the lion’s den, threatening the only life Mikey found precious. 

“Nobody moves! Or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”  

Didn’t matter, though. He’d surely pay with his. 

sanzu ッ

Over a game of poker, some guy whose luck just wasn’t on his side decided he deserved retribution—And you were unfortunately the one to pay it forward. You were perched on Sanzu’s lap, sitting prettily as you laughed at the silly men crying after taking a heavy loss from your man. For him, it was like nails on a chalkboard hearing you mock the table alongside that crackhead, his inferiority complex spewing venomous thoughts in his head that you needed to be taken down a couple notches. 

A death wish. That dumbass had a death wish. 

He abruptly stood, knocked the table over and aimed his sorry excuse of a gun right at you, rendering everyone else speechless. Sanzu barely reacted but felt you startle, cooing softly in your ear as he lovingly tapped you on the thigh in reassurance. You relaxed instantly, eyeing down the barrel of the gun with mirth as the guy began to shake. Blame it on the alcohol, blame it on the heat of the moment, or even the bottomless debt he just put himself in, but one thing was for certain—He fucked up big time, no rush. 

You couldn’t see it, but Sanzu had murderous intent hidden behind his calm exterior. And everyone at that table knew it as they scattered from the scene. Probably wasn't the smartest choice to bet his luck against yours, though. For someone who was already absolute dogshit at poker, Sanzu figured he’d be doing this guy a favor anyways. 

“How ballsy of you. Guess I’d better cut ‘em off.”

ran ッ

Not gonna lie, whoever decided to test his gangsta like that would surely need to evaporate IMMEDIATELY after because there’s absolutely no SHOT of them, they mama, they second cousin, or even that one neighbor who used to live by them, surviving this man’s wrath.

Especially if they tried it in his own home.

The poor guy didn’t even get to make his demands, Ran was on him so quick he damn near broke the laws of physics. You’d never seen a grown man beg for mercy to the point of literally pissing himself before, but it definitely lightened your mood. You even pointed and laughed, despite the tears still falling down your face from the unpleasant experience. Ran merely grinned adoringly at you as he twisted the assailant’s arm in three different ways.

“There’s my favorite smile ♡. I’ll make sure this fucker suffers for almost taking it away from me, angel.”

rindou ッ

It’s always the younger siblings that are the more unhinged. He already don’t play that bullshit when it comes to you, your safety becoming one of his main priorities the moment you agreed to be with him. Anyone who dared to compromise that would fuck around and find out.

And eventually, someone did.

To be fair, the guy who pulled the gun on you didn’t know any better. As far as he was concerned, he was doing his job in making sure unauthorized civilians in the building were to be eradicated immediately. Especially those who claim to know anyone from Bonten without some sort of proof.

Because your relationship was hush-hush to most, if not all staff, it was no wonder homie didn’t believe you. But, it didn’t matter. As soon as Rindou found out the commotion going on in the lobby had to do with you, and some dumbass subordinate holding a gun to your head???

That walking mullet made that guy’s trigger finger into a necklace and forced him to wear it as a reminder.

kakucho ッ

A wild card, truly. He can’t afford to be anything but mr. calm and collected, especially in hostile situations. On one hand, he knows that getting worked up will do neither of you any good. And on the other hand…

When he got the video of you being held for ransom by some backstreet lowlife, gun pressed to your temple as you’re forced to read out their petty demands, Kakucho wanted to set the whole city on fire. His entire being vibrated, teeth clenched so hard you’d need a crowbar to unhinge it. Even Mikey eyed him sideways for a moment before reassuring him that you would be found, and that those amateurs would be handled. Kakucho growled lowly, dual-colored eyes piercing through the souls of every subordinate in the room.

“If she doesn’t make it out of this alive, none of you will.”

© 2022-2023 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Decided I kind of wanted to gush about this on tumblr a little, because it’s important to me I think, and maybe others will be in a similar boat!

Being in an MLM relationship, I often find that for me, representation that I see myself in, especially in the media I personally enjoy, is astoundingly hard to find. I imagine that’s more of just a personal thing, and I’m sure there’s a lot of MLM representation others relate too, which I’m glad, but for me it’s always been a bit of a struggle.

I think Jon and Martin are one of the first times I’ve ever had a canon MLM relationship that just clicked, that felt real to me in a way others hadn’t before. I think it may have something to do with the fact both are deeply traumatised characters who are still allowed to be in a relationship, which sounds weird, but I’ve had a lot of awful fandom experiences regarding traumatised characters and romantic relationships, and the idea it’s inherently wrong unless they’ve been through intensive therapy first, or they’ve magically recovered and solved all their issue, and so to have a relationship between two men that acknowledges their trauma, shows them trying to work through it together, while still having arguments, acting irrationally, and snapping at each other unprompted etc… it doesn’t hide the messy side of PTSD/C-PTSD, I guess is the way to put it, and that’s so important to have!

They are their own people with their own problems and beliefs and so sometimes they clash — they aren’t a unit all the time. I imagine, had the Eyepocalypse not have happened, they would have had more time to tackle their boundaries and respective traumas and responses in a better environment, leading to a healthier relationship, but, unfortunately, they didn’t have that, and so we get all the raw stuff, and I’m genuinely glad we do. These characters clicked with me more for it, as did their relationship.

Realistically, Martin and Jon’s relationship is far too complex to truly cover In a post that’s just about gushing, but seriously, it’s insane how well written and grounded their responses are, and for that, I see myself in them and their struggles.

There’s also the element of Jon being Bi-Ace like myself, which isn’t an identity I expected I be represented in such a popular series, let alone in a character I loved. It just makes me happy, honestly.

I don’t get this feeling a lot, and I think it’s a show of how important varied representation is. Sometimes stuff is messy, and it isn’t always perfect, and you have to work through that, and maybe it’ll be okay in the end.

[i-lost-my-heart-in-republic-city]

Only villains are allowed to be complex in Netflix's Avatar: The Last Airbender

I had a major issue with the treatment of the original gaang in natla and I think it has to do with character flaws. As in, they don't have any.

In the case of Aang, other characters keep telling him that he can't ignore his responsibilities but when do we ever see him actually do this? When does he seek out distractions to avoid his duties, like penguin sledding, or riding elephant koi, or hiding in a cave? Hell, the reason he gets trapped in the iceberg is changed. In natla he was only going out on a short flight with Appa and gets caught in a storm. In the original he ran away, and it's understandable because he felt alone and out of control of his life. But it is still a choice he makes, to run away from his responsibilities, and he has to deal with the consequences.

In natla there is no choice to run away, it's fully an accident and it takes away his agency as a character. So when Bumi starts blaming him for the war it really rings hollow because it was all an accident. It has more weight when a random fisherman blames him in atla because at least in that version he did make a choice to runaway. Obviously he had no way of knowing what would happen and he never intended to abandon the world to genocide and war. But that's the thing about life, you never know the full consequences of your decisions, and you just have to deal with them when they happen. The war is not Aang's fault, but he did make a bad decision, and it had far reaching consequences. It made Aang's character more relatable and gave him a starting place from which he could grow as a character. He had to learn how to accept responsibility for his actions without blaming himself for the actions of other (i.e. Sozin starting the war).

I feel like in the case of Katara, they stripped her passion and anger. They explored Katara's PTSD but they take away how angry it made her. Anger is a totally normal response to trauma. While letting yourself be consumed by anger is obviously bad, anger can also be channeled into passion and energy to enact positive change. This was a big part of Katara's character in atla, learning how to control her righteous indignation and use it to fight for the rights of other. She has none of that anger here, so there is no character growth and no emotional connection to the character through that arc.

This especially falls flat in her 'feminist arc.' She fights with Pakku but there is no anger, no fire in her. In atla at the end of the fight, even though she was pinned down and had clearly lost, she was still going. She was almost feral. Even though she was worn out, her passion of fighting for what is right still fueled her. She would not give up. So I guess it's fitting natla's unpassionate Katara just falls down at the end of the fight. And they cut out the whole importance of the necklace, which serves as Pakku's realization on how his sexism has negatively impacted his own life. It's this realization that motivates him to reevaluate his beliefs and agree to train Katara. Which needs to happen because having a master's tutelage is what allows her to become a master herself. Alta makes it clear that she excels because of her hard work and determination along with guidance from a mentor. There's none of this in natla. They just start calling Katara a master because 'girlpower' I guess? They certainly don't show how she became so talented. But natla Katara doesn't need help from other people to grow. She's already a master. She's already perfect.

Sokka is also stripped of his flaws as well. Obviously we know he is not sexist in natla. I don't think this is inherently a bad change, but you have to understand how the sexism impacted his character in atla and adjust accordingly. In atla, Sokka's sexism is really the origin of his all his insecurities. He believes there are roles for men and roles for women. Protecting the tribe is a man's job. So when the men go off to fight in the war, he believes he must carry the burden of protecting the tribe as the oldest male. He sets himself up for failure because he places impossible standards on himself. He cannot protect and lead the tribe all by himself, especially not when he is a young child. This leads to him feeling inadequate because he cannot measure up to his own impossible standards or his idealized version of his father (who was an adult and had the support of his tribesmen).

I could still see a way to still adapt atla without the sexism. (For example Hakoda tells Sokka to look after his younger sister. He takes that to an extreme of being overprotective of the whole tribe. And we are back at him failing to met his own impossible expectations again). But natla doesn't do this. Instead it just throws in a flashback of Hakoda saying that Sokka isn't fit to be a warrior. This kind of defeats the purpose of Sokka's own internal conflict about not measuring up to his own unrealistic expectations. Now it's his father's expectation's he doesn't measure up to. This is not a bad story beat in and of itself. It works well with Zuko. But it's not Sokka's character conflict. In alta Sokka's insecurities, internal expectations, and sexism also cause him to lash out at others sometimes. He's not allowed to act so negatively in atla. So again there is no place for him to grow as a character, as he does not have these flaws.

Honestly it seems like they tired to removal all negative character traits from the main characters, which makes them feel more stiff and allows them no room for growth. I really wanted to like this adaptation. And I do think there are some changes they do really well. But those changes are related to the villains and they just drop the ball so hard with our main characters.

[romana-after-dark]

Rooms on Fire: I Will Run To You

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna learns more about her role and the dynamics of the household.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.

Extra warnings for chapter: Mentions of medical malpractice, death in childbirth, mentions of male sexual assault via power dynamics, lots of complex feelings.

A/n: next chapter things ramp up.

3.1k words

A/N I gotta apologize y'all. this was meant to include so much more but I guess this chapter is getting split bc I just put so much Jonah lore. I hope y'all are formal about liking him. We finally get some backstory on the uprising, Tom, and Madonna's dad, who BTW, had a name change. JACK IS NOW MARCUS more info after the story!

Support writers! Reblog and leave comments!

One so young, so changed Should not be left alone Two in love should confess And not be left alone And I will run to you Down whatever road you choose Yes, I will follow you down I will run to you ~I Will Run to You, Stevie Nicks and Tom Petty

“You paint a lot of fire”

Jonah’s voice startled you, making you turn around but you relax when you see it’s just him. Reyansh was watching you outside your studio, and Jonah coming meant you must be summoned somewhere. 

You were painting a picture of a burning house, something you saw in a dream last night. Ben and Will treated you normally, fucking you but also spending time together. You supposed Francisco’s behavior was normal too, considering that he continued to treat you like you only existed to fuck when he had to fullfill his duty. He never touched you alone. In the week since you got your period Santi was ignoring you. He’d call you to his room, fuck you with your face pressed into the mattress, and then toss you out. Last night he shoved you into the hall with your dress still bundled up in your arms.

“I paint what I dream.” You mumble, tired and not totally there. You were terrified to sleep, and after a second visit from the succubus it was getting worse, forcing yourself to stay up later and later. Lack of sleep was making it difficult to be alert, and little noises make you jump.

Jonah approached where you stood, keeping a respectful distance. He’d been distant as well since the night you saw him, and you still were unsure what you did wrong and why Iris was so upset with you.

“You dream of houses burning?” His voice was gentle but curious.

You take a deep breath, too tired to fight off any questioning. It’s best not to lie, anyway. “Ever since I was a child, I dreamed of fire. I dreamed I was dancing in front of it. I dreamed I caused it, and it was out of my control and now I must dance in the smoke and watch as the flames consumed things that I loved.” A pause, tears beginning to burn behind your eyes. “Sometimes, he stood inside them.”

“He?”

“My father.”

Jonah drew in a sharp breath and you worried he thought you were sympathetic to his traitorous cause. You weren’t, you had remembered how betrayed you’d felt that he’d thrown everything away to follow Deacon Davis, the judas who had killed the Divine Mother. As per tradition, when someone is sentenced to death, they burn at the stake and the unmarried women are expected to dance. The closer you are to the individual, the closer you are to the fire. You had been Marcus’s only family, him and your mom having adopted you as an infant. He died in front of you as you danced, embers blowing in the wind and singeing your white dress and sensitive skin. You were only 12, but you knew right from wrong, and your father was wrong. Sometimes you woke up still smelling his burning corpse. You had danced longer than anyone, keeping all the energy your child body could give you until you passed out.

You turn to Jonah with tears in your eyes, “I hold no mercy in my heart for him, please know that. I am loyal to the Divine Mother, I am loyal to my husbands above all else! I don’t know why I didn’t get pregnant but know I’d die for them happily should it came to that!” Crying now, you desperately plead to him but it’s not Jonah you are speaking to, truely. You know Pope is questioning you right now, and you cannot bear the thought that he doubts you.

“Honey” Jonah’s voice is strained, pain anguishing him. “How much do you know about the uprising…”

Your face is wet with tears, almost shaking in fear and frustration. You didn’t know how you’d messed this up so badly so soon. You just wanted to be held, you don’t remember the last time you’d been held without sexual desire… it was probably your father, may he be damned.

“Deacon Davis… he was an advisor to the Divine Mother, a friend to my husbands… he and Deliliah conspired against the Divine Mother and her family. Dad- um, Marcus, was a part of the traitors and he allowed Deacon Davis into Divine Mother’s quarters where he murdered her. Deliliah was Will’s betrothed before. She had seduced him for information and, and betrayed her husband! I would never do that, Jonah!” You realize now why he was questioning you, he thought a traitorous blood ran in your veins. Had Pope sent him? Had Francisco seen the evil in your heart, the evil that was inviting a demon?? Or had Jonah simply seen you for what you were. “I would rather die than betray them! You have to believe me!” You sob, closing your eyes as you are no longer able to look into his in shame. Strong arms wrap around you, practically holding your body up. 

Jonah held you tightly and you cried into his shirt, so tired, so sleepy… You just wanted to feel peace again. Jonah allowed you your release, wetting his shirt with your tears until your breathing slowed. It occurred to you that you were hugging and being held by a man who was not your husband, so you take a step back looking down.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, I haven't slept well-”

“It’s okay, honey.” His voice gently reassures you. “It’s okay to cry sometimes.”

You shake your head. “No… no I’m happy, I should be happy here, happy with my husbands, I am!” You’d shown weakness, surely Jonah would tell Pope that you were unhappy, that this was proof of your doubt, of unworthiness… Instead, Jonah pulled a sleeve down on his hand, stepping up to you once more. He ran the sleeve carefully under your eyes wiping the tears.

“There is nothing wrong with feeling what you feel. Your husbands are blessed with a kind, beautiful, artistic wife and they should be so lucky you sit at their table, nonetheless someone who cooks them dinners and paint them pictures. It is they who are unworthy, not you.”

You gasp at the blasphemy. “Jonah! No, no they are-”

“Gods, I know.” He wipes snot from your running nose. “But you… you’re like a daughter to me, and a father is allowed to place his children above Gods. Marcus may not… he may not have made the right choices, but he wanted nothing but good for you, just like I do. So please, for me, show him and yourself a little grace.”

With a little sniffle, you nod. “Thank you, Jonah.”

He gave you a smile, the bright one you like that made his eyes squint. “Good girl. Now, I got a surprise for you that I think will brighten your day.”

*

Jonah watched as you practically skipped down the hallway. When he told you Frankie wanted to take you out for a picnic, you perked up so fast it was like you hadn’t even been sobbing in his arms a moment ago. He wished he could be honest with you, he wished he could tell you the truth about Tom, Delilah, and most importantly, Marcus… but you were so brainwashed, there was no way for him to break through to you. He couldn’t simple tell you everything you’d know and believed whole heartedly, your religion, your life, the very thing that you chose above your father was a lie… not yet anyway. Maybe one day you’d doubt, you’d question, and the first people you’d go to would be Iris or him, maybe even Reyansh. Rey played the part well of a good soldier boy, he wasn’t as overt as Iris was but he knew you trusted him.

Despite being late already with the crying, you insisted on stoping in your room to grab a ribbon for your heart. Jonah’s heart hurt watching you put so much effort into this.

Will treated you well. Despite Jonah and Will’s… past, he couldn’t deny Will  was a good husband. He took care of you.

Ben was a little shithead and was absolutely going behind your back with women still he just couldn’t figure out who. Ben had to be more sneaky now. This didn’t stop him from very loud late night fucks with Frankie that it seemed only you and Santi weren’t aware of. Still, he gave you affection and spent time outside of sex with you.

Santiago, he expected nothing less. Santiago’s moods were unpredictable, they had been ever since he was a child. Jonah had known Santiago and Beatriz since he was young, when all this was fairly new and traction was growing more and more. Jonah didn’t exactly believe, but his wife Jess did. Maybe he did for a while, it was hard to not with the things he saw… Beatriz had taken an interest in him and thus, despite being married, he spent a lot of time at the mansion with her. Jonah felt like a hooker, like his body was a commodity and up for grabs from anyone, and the worst part was how okay Jessica was with it. She fucking encouraged it. “Its an honor!” It wasn’t such an honor when she died giving birth to Iris and was denied medical treatment. Doctor said it wouldn’t have helped. Jonah knew Beatriz had something to do with it. He was luck Irish lived. She was his only reason for living sometimes.

It was Frank he was surprised about. Jonah had known all four men for most of the 3 decades of their life, and next to Santi, he knew Frank the longest. Frankie was raised with Santiago, practically as brother. Beatriz couldn’t adopt him, because something something divine blood, but that didn’t matter when Santi pissed her off enough. Jonah had witnessed the lashings and beatings he had taken, but what seemed to hurt the teen the most was when Beatriz would hang his godhood over his head, saying that it should be Frankie who was the savior, not him. After Jess’s death, Jonah was moved into the mansion and promoted to captain of the guard. It was just an excuse for Beatriz to demand sex even more.

Frankie was a good kid, but he always followed Santi like a lost puppy. Santi became obsessed with Frankie, forcing Frankie to become more and more withdrawn. Still, the nice young man was in there somewhere, and Jonah would bring it out. After the girl came to his room crying about Frankie not loving her, Jonah spoke to him and said he needed to do better by her hence the picnic.

Rey was out at the stables by the time Jonah got there, preparing the three horses. He was there a lot, knowing a lot about horses. If he has any choice, Jonah was certain he’d have been a vet. Another life, he supposed. Jonah and Rey would accompany them since they were going out a ways.

“Hello, Francisco.” She spoke softly, but enthusiastic. For all he and Santi hurt her, she loved him.

Frank gave a small smile. “Hi, Madonna. I thought maybe we could take a picnic. Get away from… everything else.” He brushed the mane of the horse.

Everyone else, Jonah thought.

“That sounds wonderful!” You walk over to him. “What’s his name?”

“This is Cielo. And those two,” He points to the other horses being settled. “Are Estrella and Flora.”

“Will we be riding Cielo?” You ask, but Frank turns away.

“I’ll be riding alone.”

You look dejected again, so Jonah steps up, frustrated with Frankie. “C’mon, you can ride with me.” Jonah puts a put in a stirrup, launching a leg over the saddle and onto Flora, his favorite horse.

“Actually” Frankie interjects. “I think she should ride with Rey.”

Of course. 10 years later and everyone was still suspicious of him. Frankie climbed onto Cielo, and Jonah rode up to him, whispering. “Compliment her ribbon. She picked green just for you.”

*

Reyansh pulled you up and onto the saddle, allowing you to ride the side saddle to protect your modesty in the dress. If you knew you’d be riding a horse, you’d have worn pants. It wasn’t the most comfortable, and you feared falling, but Reynash’s arm was strong around you. He was careful to keep his hands at appropriate places, which you were thankful for. 

“How is your painting going?” He asks, as since Jonah leads the group and Francisco is in the middle still not keen on talking to you. Still, this was a step forward.

“It’s good, thank you. It’s nice and peaceful. I miss-” You stop yourself. What you missed was when Santi used to sit and watch you paint, drinking his wine and intent eyes on you. It had been a comfortable silence. “I do miss having company sometimes…” You missed your husband, you missed his laugh, his smile, his praise.

“Hey, I’d love to sit in on a session!” You could tell by the tone of his voice he was smiling. “I’d love to see a real artist at work!”

You laugh just a bit, “I’m not an artist, but if you’d like to watch, I'd like that.”

“Deal.”

*

You sat against a tree, legs bent modestly in your skirt and eating the sandwich Iris packed. She also packed apple juice, which you loved.

Francisco was silent. He’d thanked you for your help setting up the blanket and spoken as he served his food, but now he simply sat there. He looked sad, but even then he was handsome. Francosco sported a mustache, which had remained consistent the whole time you’d known him. Santiago was growing out his hair and beard, which was making your heart ache even more that you couldn’t kiss and touch him like you wanted to. Still, the silence wasn’t awkward. You had begun to wonder if he was just… quiet.

“Thank you for taking me out.” You say, speaking quietly. Jonah and Reynash were circling the parameter and you felt… watched. “I hadn’t realized how much time I spent inside until now.” Had you even left the house at all since your wedding? When was the last time you felt sunshine before today?

To your delight, while still looking down, he smiled. “I’m glad. Don’t like seeing you cooped up in that house all day.”

Your heart warmed at his concern for you. Feeling emboldened, you scooch close to him.

“It’s not cooped up with the men I love.”

This makes his eyes flick up to you. He narrows them suspiciously, but not angry “You… love… me?”

Your heart nearly shatters at the question, and you can’t help but find him so endearing. “But of course I do!!!” Careful, you place a hand on his face and feel the patchy bit of stubble. “You’re my beloved husband!”

“But… you had to marry me.”

You shake your head. “No, Francisco I chose you, I chose all of you and I love all of you. Is that why you’ve been distant? Is that why you’ve been so cold to me?”

“I-” He stutters over his words. “I don’t think this is good for you… I don’t think I’m good for you…”

If there were ever words you hadn’t expected from him, it wasn’t that. Francisco was a God, he was holy, good and righteous, how could he not be good for you. It didn’t matter. Clearly he was hurting, and as his wife, it was your duty to make him happy again. “Francisco Morales, you are my husband, you are the foster child of the Divine Mother, and the love of my life. I chose you before, I choose you now, and I will choose you in heaven, Divine Mother willing.” You bring your face closer to his. “I adore you, in all your God and human.” Feeling brave, you bring your mouth to him and tenderly take his pouty lower lip into your mouth, making him whimper. You liked that sound.

“You choose me?” He whispers, slowly kissing back. “Out in the open, no secrets?” His voice is slightly higher now, almost whining as he begins to chase your mouth. 

“Always” The desperation growing, you give him everything you have. You don’t care that it’s an open field surrounded by trees, you don’t care that Reyansh and Jonah could ride up at any point, and you don’t care who might see you. You were divine and if you wanted to make love to the god of nature in his own fucking land you will. You had Francisco Morales, demi-God, whimpering for your touch. You had HIM, finally had him and you weren’t going to waste it for one second. He wanted thing sout in the open, you would show him you weren’t ashamed to be seen getting filled by his seed. Before you, your husbands were not celibant, that much was known. The sex parties were stuff of rumors and you couldn’t decipher the truth from fact. However, it was clear that public sex was not off the table. Shame is a punishment for the sins of Adam and Eve, and for men born without original sin, there was no shame in sex. “I choose you, always.”

Frankie entangles his fingers into your hair, feeling the green tie in your locks. His other hand slides up to cup your breast.

“I love this ribbon, it suits you.”

*

“Whatcha think’n, old man.” Rey asks as he rides up to Jonah. Both are perched up on top of a hill overlooking the field you lay on and he watches you kiss Frankie. 

“I’m thinking,” Jonah turns to Rey, nodding his head back home. “That I got it here, and since the others are out, you should run back and try and sneak some time with Iris.”

Rey smiled at that, but hesitated. “You sure? Morales didn’t seem like he wanted her with either of you.” 

Jonah rolled his eyes, but it was good natured nonetheless. He liked Reynash, loved him even. He was a good kid. Iris was put in the position she was in, not any older than the girl was now, because of his shortcomings, his weaknesses. She was punished to punish him. She deserved all the good she could get, and Reyansh Saha was about the only bit off good left in this world, beside Iris and now Marcus’s kid he was looking after. He reminded Jonah of Delilah in a lot of ways. Always smiling. Always kind.

“Look at ‘em.” Jonah referenced the pair kissing below. “She’s going home on his lap.”

Rey laughed brightly, turning his horse. “Oh yeah, you’re quite the matchmaker!” And he road off, long dark hair wild behind him. Handsome devil.

The words matchmaker hung in the air. Was Jonah giving her false hope he wondered? Or was he giving her the time she had left and filling it with better memories. He wasn’t sure. Maybe he was delaying the inevitable. It was always going to end one way for her. There was no way to live up to what Santiago wanted.

Because what Santiago wanted was Frankie with a womb.

SO MUCH JONAH HAPPENING!!!!!!!!

And poor madonna bc Jonah christ smelling your dad burn is a lot

So Marcus's face claim is David Habour, this came out of some chats with. @umnitsa in my romanaverse discord server. He is now your adopted father to keep things inclusive, but this is important as he has background info and ties in a lot. Think hopper in stranger things. Also May is already shipping him and Jonah so that ship name is Jonus lmfaooooo

If you are an active participant in one or more of my universes and have a discord (this means commenting or comment Reblogging, im looking for people who want to theorize and chit chat) dm me for a link! This is primarily focused on giving you extra content and sneak peaks but a lot of cool people are there too and you can share your work!

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

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[rinstagrams]

seeing you tonight... it's a bad idea, right? content: ex!gojo x reader, language, suggestive (16+), mentions of sex w/c: 1.4k

♬ bad idea, right? by olivia rodrigo.

“hey, shoko invited us over for drinks and gossip.”

you hardly hear what utahime suggested, too busy typing away on your phone. your eyebrows furrow at the latest text sent, nearly outright ignoring your coworker and friend. “can’t,” you say after a moment’s pause. “plans.”

it’s not very often that you and utahime get sent out on missions together, let alone in tokyo. she hardly gets away from her teacher work in kyoto, but the curse you’d been sent to exorcise today in tokyo was perfect for her technique and yours. since the trip back to kyoto is a bit long, you’ve both opted to stay the night. it’s pretty standard that you would stay with shoko on a night in tokyo. but recently…

utahime raises an eyebrow at you curiously, standing behind you to peek over your shoulder at your phone. “plans?”

“yeah,” you say, clearing your throat. “i have something to do.”

“i think you mean someone to do.”

“what? hey!” you exclaim, trying to sound indignant. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“oh, so gojo didn’t just send you his new address?” 

“stop snooping!” you say, locking your phone and holding it close to your chest out of view. the look utahime gives you, however, is unavoidable. damn her and that damn teacher look of hers. you sigh, shoulders deflating. “i really don’t wanna hear a lecture right now. can you save it for the train ride back?”

“i’m not gonna lecture you.” but the look she gives is really enough to have you feeling like a scolded child. “but i thought after last time, you said you were done with him.”

“i know he’s my ex,” you say, picking at your nail. “but can’t two people reconnect?”

since your break-up a year ago, you and gojo have avoided each other at all sorcerer events. it’s kind of funny, seeing the lengths the two of you will go to avoid each other. but nonetheless, in the end, you always find yourself with him in tokyo behind closed doors. up until now, you thought you’d done pretty well at keeping it a secret… guess not.

“you don’t reconnect with gojo satoru of all people. i still can’t believe you dated him, he’s a selfish prick.” that much is true, you think to yourself. but despite how self-involved and cocky he might be to everyone else, he’s… not so selfish in bed, to say the least. “he’s not even that hot.”

“i’ve seen hotter,” you hope that maybe agreeing with her in hating gojo will lighten the load on you. instead, she narrows her eyes at you and says, “you’re not getting back together, are you? because i’ll slap some sense into you right now.”

“i only see him as a friend.” biggest lie you’ve ever said. 

utahime actually snorts, very uncharacteristic of her. “sure, sweetie. let’s see how you feel after a glass of wine and a lay with gojo satoru.” you groan and shake your head, refusing to admit to yourself the truth of his words. 

“nothing will happen.”

“yeah, sure,” she says, completely disbelieving of you. “and what’ll be your excuse when you wake up in his bed?”

you bite the inside of your cheek. “tripped and fell.”

-

when you pull up to gojo’s new building, a penthouse on the top floor of a tall apartment complex, you’re not surprised at the text that tells you to just come on up. stupid satoru, not even bothering to walk you up. 

he’s stupid, rude, and hardly chivalrous. you know that this is a bad idea, and you’ll probably regret it in a few days when the mortification settles in, but for now, who cares? 

you don’t even knock, because satoru already has the door open. he leans his tall figure against it, arms crossed over his broad chest wearing a smile on his face. his hair is a little disheveled, glasses hanging low on his nose, and you can already smell the familiar scent that tells you he just had a shower. 

“satoru.” you remember your words with utahime earlier. you’re sure you’ve seen much better looking men than this white, gangly string bean, but for some reason, you can’t really remember when. 

“hey, beautiful. mission went okay?” the care in his voice makes you remember the way he used to fuss over you when you were dating. you roll your neck out, nodding. “yeah,” you tell him. “neck hurts like a bitch, though.”

“let me help you with that,” he says, stepping aside to let you in. you place your stuff down and already as the door shuts, satoru brushes your hair to one shoulder. quickly, his hands work on your shoulders to massage the small knots out from your muscles, even without you asking. it feels good; for someone whose technique revolves around not touching people, he’s still surprisingly good at massages. 

“thanks,” you say, voice soft. 

“anything for you. you worked hard.” his voice is low, and after a few moments, you feel soft kisses pressed to the back of your neck. on your jaw. down your shoulders. you nearly shiver beneath his touch.

“seriously, satoru? straight to it, huh. i can’t shower, first?” you laugh, voice a little breathless as he brushes his tongue over your sweet spot on your neck.

“i figured we could do a second round in the shower.” 

you laugh and close your eyes, relaxing into his touch as his hand comes around to pop open the button on your jeans. your last thought before you give in is, here we go again. 

-

you wake up in the morning to the light shining in through the windows, but also to the buzzing of your phone. as you rub the sleep from your eyes, you curse. shit. four missed calls from utahime. she’s so gonna kill you at the train station. 

stifling a yawn, you start to shuffle in bed, standing to gather your clothes. before you can swing your legs over the bed however, you feel a tug by the waist. over your hips, satoru has a strong arm to pull you back in. a sleepy groan leaves him. “don’t leave,” he whines like a kid. 

“i have to go back to kyoto,” you tell him, trying to tug yourself free to no avail. 

“stay.” a strong pull drags you back to bed with him, and your back is pressed smugly to his chest. his chin hooks on your shoulder and you feel him poking at the back of your thigh. “i’ll teleport you back later.”

“satoru,” you say, tone chastising. “i really don’t have time for a morning quickie.”

behind you, he sighs. the mood seems to have dropped now, his playful childish tone now gone from seconds ago. “i’m not talking about sex. i just want you to stay. i’ll make you breakfast.”

“you know that’s not what we do. we agreed that when we were gonna do this, it wasn’t gonna be like before.” before, when you were dating. before, when you had so many problems that couldn’t be solved with just sex. now, at least you can still have the sex without the relationship baggage. 

“i miss you.”

a sigh leaves you, and you turn to face him, his arm still around you. when you meet his eyes, they’re no longer sleepy, but serious. “satoru,” you call his name, sounding serious. “you shouldn’t say those things.”

“but i do. miss you, i mean.” he sighs. “i miss seeing you more than just every few months for a fuck. i wanna see you in the mornings, and on the weekends.”

all you can do is sigh. he goes on, “we were good, weren’t we? i miss you, and i know you miss me too. i wish we could give it another try. i’m not just saying it because of last night, but… i’ll be better. i’ll really try. i’ll come every weekend, we can go on dates all the time. i’ll be less annoying.”

“that might be hard for you,” you mutter. it’s an insult, but it shows to him that you’re beginning to open up to it, and that brings a smile to his face. a beautiful one, his blue eyes filled with mirth and not obstructed by glasses or a blindfold. 

“and you’ll work on not being mean to me, right? we’ll be good together. will you give me a second chance?” 

the two of you never worked out, and you know that for yourself. you know the problems behind it all, but what a fool you were to think you could be satisfied with just this. the two of you butt heads always, but maybe it’s worth it for moments like these. it’s a bad idea but… you’ve never been fond of good ideas. 

a heavy breath leaves you, but you can’t hold back the smile. “okay.” he grins, and it’s wonderful. oh, utahime’s going to kill you.

[abla-soso]

"Anatomy of a fall" is a good movie that I would normally forget about after the second viewing. But I think I keep coming back to this movie because the reactions to it are fascinating to me.

One of the main themes of this movie was that you can't psychoanalyze and frame people's entire personhood and lives based on dissecting a very specific set of events and circumstances. Especially not in a sensationalized case in a court drama.

And what do American feminists do? Isolate a single moment from all contexts and present it as definitive proof of women being the eternal victims in any broken marriage.

Amazing.

The "you're not a victim and I'm blameless" speech became a viral clip on social media, so much so that it made me curious enough to watch the movie. Imagine my surprise when I saw the context of that scene and realized that moment in the fight happened right after the husband accused the wife of cheating and she scoffed it off and tried to guilt trip him for still feeling upset it and about her shameless lack of guilt.

He was being irrationally petty and unfairly judgmental during the fight (most people are when they're mentally ill with intense unresolved issues) and she defended herself against his bullshit and expressed some legitimate grievances, but this was not all. In that "epic feminist monologue" she was insisting he wasn't a victim because she was also trying to absolve herself of all guilt of any of her wrongdoings.

And when she couldn't, she reacted in a physically abusive way. And when she needed to save herself in the trail? She insisted that he was a victim after all, lol. But not her own victim, of course not, but a victim of his own sever mental health issues that has nothing to do with how she treated him.

Yet when the defense wraps up their summary of her husband's psyche and spells out the suicide motive you can hear her tell him: "that's not what he was like!". She had enough honesty with herself in that moment to admit that her husband's personhood and motives can't be summed up by that fight.

It's pointless to make a complete and final assessment of either her or her husband's character based on that emotionally charged fight alone.

The movie's main motif is: "fixation kills understanding". It’s not unusual for married couples to feel like they have a PhD in their partner's psyche, and to some level, they kinda do. They probably know each other better than any other person on Earth – but it’s still not enough, and never will be, to sum up an entire person. And the gaps that are left to fill are up to anybody’s guessing. You can drill down into a relationship to a microscopic level — trying to analyze every comment, every small action, every rumour — but that the more you try to take in, the less you know.

But American feminists would rather feel vindicated about their own ideological obsessions than acknowledge any nuances or moral complexity in any story about gender dynamics, broken marriages, and mental health.

It's amazing to me how they talk about weak married men with such vicious contempt. As if they're morally deficient for failing to live to their "manly duties". As if only married women are allowed to react to mental illness and unresolved issues in petty, unfair, irrational ways.

Perhaps the movie was trying to tell you guys something and you completely missed it.

[orphee-aux-enfers]

I. Don’t understand how being against homophobia and misogyny and informational suppression is cultural relativism? Yeah I have a #USAmerican raised Christian bias but I think not being bioessentialist and anti-intellectual is. Normal???? Genuinely don’t understand

Okay so. My guess from how this was written is that you are either a child or just into your 20s. I'd expect much different wording and approach if you were older. So. I'm going to try and be as gentle and clear cut as possible.

1) Orthodox Judaism is actually quite diverse and also different from Christianity, even fundamentalist Christianity .

2) What you're witnessing is not necessarily indicative of the actual community values; you are interpreting without insider perspective, or seemingly any actual knowledge. You're also ascribing motive to actions that may or may not be there.

3) many orthodox Jews, myself included, are queer and trans and embraced by our community. Every person of authority I've spoken to on the matter says that my incredibly queer, t4t marriage that gets read as gay no matter what, still gets the mitzvah of sex on erev Shabbos, and that includes my main community of Chabad.

4) many books are screened before being given to children by all people everywhere for a variety of reasons. Just because you don't fully understand the reasons as you are not yourself Orthodox Jewish doesn't mean that they are automatically something to be hated due to your preconceived notions.

5) Assuming a group is inherently homophobic, misogynistic, etc. Simply because you don't understand them as you are not part of their community is in fact a bad behaviour, yes. Don't do that. Most of the time, in most communities people are at worst confused.

6) As for misogyny... It's important to know the ways in which Judaism actually structures it's sex roles. No one has different sex roles because they're lesser, which misogyny implies. And every SINGLE person I have ever met observes mitzvos based on sex due to actually desire, not coercion. But for example, married women cover their hair as a way of making their marriage even more holy. Men meanwhile are told to cover their head at all times so they are mindful of G-d at all times. What does this imply at first glance? Why, that women are capable of remembering G-d at all times and the men are silly and must forget G-d if not reminded! Do we think this is all to the interpretation?

So. Before you judge our community so harshly... Perhaps also consider the last century of human history alone. We are being killed and hurt at alarming rates again, especially in the USA. Is it any wonder we don't stop in the streets to justify our existence to you?

Lastly, an oversharing of my personal details because as I am currently safe and well at home, I feel I ought to give you opportunity to understand that you aren't seeing/understanding the complexity of sex roles in Judaism

7) so, yes, orthodox Judaism has gender/sex based roles. It also is, in my experience, pretty flexible to meet individuals. I was coercively assigned female at birth. I was however by Jewish law, tumtum. In English terms, I had ambiguous genitals which could be surgically changed. My sister wanted a baby sister. And so, I was surgically "corrected" and raised female, until puberty and onset of hormonal problems that indicated that it wasn't just a genital mutation. I felt disconnected from binary gender, and at time, in part of my community having a label for me while the hospital I was born at had simply labeled me "incorrect", I came to embrace a masculine social standing. Because I was unable to be sexed as an infant, have masculine levels of testosterone and a lack of menses for years at a time, I have to adhere to both male and female sex based mitzvos. Religiously, I am operating with the strictest possible adherence, but this is all written and debated, as are all of the other sexes in Judaism. I am, however, allowed to exist as intersex in a Jewish community in a way that I am NEVER allowed to exist as intersex without a fight in the secular world, to the point that if it's not relevant I identify only as trans, because otherwise it becomes too complicated in the secular world. And this is genuinely because there is actually a space for me to exist in, as there are six Talmudic sexes.

Being trans and intersex is "allowed". Being queer is "allowed". Some communities differ, but I've lived in seven, and all of them have been more accepting of me being queer, trans, and intersex, than any secular space, including liberal and leftist spaces. At WORST, I am met with curiosity because I am new to the community. I think, perhaps, too many people in this world mistake curiosity with hatred.

[otomiyaa]

do you have any ToT fics?

Mr. Mouse

Lee!Marius & NXX Squad ft. Reader

[Fic Reupload] - Haha I thought you were crying but then thought oh right I've been sharing Tears of Themis posts lately. Well I've got one, only one, apart from some drabbles scattered around. I'll reupload the fic ^^ It's not lee Luke though, but Marius. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 3.1K

The mood was dark and heavy. Though it had been your intention to shift the team’s focus off the complex investigation case just for a little, you did not expect it would arise new complications.

All you had done was suggest a funny game for some team bonding, fun, and to have a laugh, since there was just too much tension in this team and definitely not enough laughter. Alas, there was little to no laughter at all as the men glared at each other, even while playing the game. 

"Guys...” you whispered, watching them nervously. 

Even with those stupid cards sticking to their foreheads it didn’t look at all like the lighthearted situation it should be. Marius and Artem were exchanging death stares as if they could fly over the table any second and clash. Vyn appeared to be judging their behavior quietly, a little pile of successfully guessed cards of his own proudly placed before him as he stared at the duo with piercing eyes. And Luke...

“Luke,” Marius suddenly called out, glancing sideways at Luke who was, just like you were, observing the two nervously. “I’ll ask again, Luke. Am I Mr. Artem Wing?” Marius asked. Luke was stuttering, but couldn’t get in between them again with a firm ‘no’ or anything else, given the tense atmosphere.

Marius already continued to speak: “Summarizing all of your answers, I am a male, I am old, I am not big, but I do have big earsー”

“Mr. Wing does not have big ears though,” you whispered, but Marius didn’t hear and continued.

“You are also an animal, Marius. You are forgetting a key part of the interrogation,” Vyn said in all seriousness. You should have known. There was no such thing as playing a fun and simple game of Who Am I? with the NXX gang. 

“Ah, an animal. Right. I stick to my guess. Mr. Wing is also kind of an animal,” Marius said, shrugging. Artem glared.

“Your insults are getting less and less creative. I suggest you proceed with more clever guesses, or you should just give up and admit you cannot guess the character,” he said. Ah, these two really weren’t getting along! Still, it was hard to fight back your giggles as you felt your lips twitch unwillingly. 

On Marius’ forehead was the card that said ‘Mickey Mouse’ and for the past ten minutes it had been him trying to guess the name which was not that difficult. From Elvis to Sherlock Holmes, Harry Potter, Leonardo da Vinci, Darius Morgan, Phoenix Wright and Mark Zuckerberg, everyone else including yourself had already finished some interrogation rounds successfully and guessed the right names. 

It was just Marius who was still Mickey Mouse for such a long while since the start of the game that all of you had decided to focus your attention on him alone until he would guess it right. Though usually enjoying to be in the spotlight, Marius did seem to get annoyed and had been trying to wriggle his way out of it by provoking Artem.

“Ask more about the animal’s nature,” Vyn suggested. 

“Or his career,” Luke said.

Marius rolled his eyes, a confused look on his face that said ‘an animal’s career?’ but he sighed and growled, “Fine. Am I a monkey?” 

“No,” chirped Luke.

“Am I a cat? Or a dog?”

“No and no,” Vyn said. 

“A fish?” You shook your head at him. Marius made a wild gesture with his hands.

“A bear?” 

“Nope,” Artem said. There was definitely something smug about Artem’s attitude, and unfortunately Marius did not miss this. He lunged towards him and sneered, “Ah I see. You thought of a difficult name for me, just to finally have something I am not better at. Hm?” 

“Just keep guessing, Marius,” you tried gently, but Marius was fixated on Artem again and you were kind of relieved that he didn’t catch Luke’s very soft “It’s not that difficult though...” because if he did, Luke would be enjoying all of that attention that was going to Artem now.

“Looks like we’ll still be here tomorrow,” was Artem’s calm remark, sparking Marius’ irritation again. There had been something mischievous about the usual serious Artem all day, something childish yet not more childish than Marius himself, and you were torn between amusement and fear of this all escalating into something bad. 

“Rosa~ Help me out here? They are bullying me,” Marius whined like a child, pouting at you. It was hilarious how he really did seem at loss with this game, and it didn’t even seem to cross his mind that you were the one who came up with the idea to play this in the first place. Or better, that it was your very own hand that wrote the name 'Mickey Mouse' for Marius to guess.

“Just keep on guessing. You are really close,” you encouraged him. He wasn’t close though. You could tell Marius had still no idea.

“Perhaps he will need a hand,” Vyn said. Marius let out a sudden guffaw. 

“Oh you guys are loving this aren’t you? The only way you guys can beat me is with silly games, or maybe even a prank. I’m not gonna be surprised if I take this off and there’s no name on it. It’s getting shady, why am I the only one who’s an animal?” Marius said, grabbing at the card on his forehead, but Luke reached out swiftly and caught his arm.

“Hey, don’t take it off now!” the brunet warned. Marius was sort of right. The guys were enjoying the hilarity of Marius failing at something as simple as a guessing game, but there was no prank going on here. Marius really failed gloriously and you couldn’t blame them - especially Artem - for rubbing salt into the wound.

“See? You don’t want me to see you’re fooling me huh?” Marius said, trying to pull his arm free from Luke who held him with both hands, but Marius reached for the card again with his other hand. This time Vyn got up fast and stood behind Marius, where he grabbed both his arms and moved them behind the seat. 

“You are going to play fairly, Marius. This’ll be a temporary measure to make sure you do,” he said, taking off his own tie and using it to bind his hands behind the chair. Marius laughed out loud again.

“Come on now! As if you guys are playing fairly! This is so childish!” 

“Or you are the childish one. Just because you are finally bad at something doesn’t mean it isn’t fair. You’ll have to accept you can’t be good at everything,” Artem lectured. 

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s not that I don’t want to play a game, I just don’t want to cooperate with your pranks! I’m going home,” Marius said, but Vyn tightened the light bondage on Marius’ hands and said: “Oh but you’re not going anywhere. And it’s not a prank, Marius. It is a fair game.”

“Rosa, help!” Marius made a scene on purpose, still smug and at the same time dramatic about the whole situation, and you shook your head at him.

Vyn sat down again, but Luke leaned towards Marius and poked him teasingly between the ribs.

“I’ll give you a hint. The sort of animal you are tends to get stuck by human traps as well,” he said, but the poke caused a different reaction than everyone expected. Marius literally squeaked. 

Your eyes widened. Marius von Hagen.... Could he be.... Ticklish? Judging from the look on Artem’s face, he seemed to notice too.

“The animal makes a similar sound too,” he said, poking Marius as well from the other side, making him squeak again.

“EEP!”

“The animal does, but the character does not make such a sound,” Luke said, watching how Artem’s single finger poked Marius not one, not two, but three more times.

“Haha-hands off, Artem, you don’t want to face the consequences once I get out of this,” Marius argued, dancing uncomfortably. 

“Hm.  That’s… quite an attitude for someone in your position,” Artem retorted, and this time he made a claw of his hand, digging his fingers into Marius’ torso and getting him to let out another lovely squeak. Luke snickered.

“Shall we tickle him?  he suggested, wiggling his fingers. 

“We could. Until he guesses it right.” 

It was hard to believe what was happening here. You saw how both Artem and Luke surrounded Marius who sat tied to his chair thanks to Vyn’s bondage skills, and their fingers started to poke and prod his sides. Marius threw his head back, the card sticking to his forehead like magic while he let out the loudest most hysterical giggles.

“GAhaha-guhuhuys! Y-you ahahar the wohohorst!” 

You gaped at them and exchanged looks with Vyn. He was smirking. “Amused aren’t you?” he murmured while in the background, Marius continued to laugh because of Artem and Luke tickling him. Artem was calm and collected, tickling Marius with this concentrated look as if he was some kind of work project. Luke was much more playful and smug about it.

“Heehee, take that! Well, aren’t you gonna guess?” he sang.

You chuckled at Vyn. “Yeah. Amused, and confused. What is even happening?” you giggled, amazed that even Artem would do something of such a childish nature. Perhaps everyone would act a little different if a bratty person like Marius was involved.

“Well, I can tell you what’s happening. They are tickling him. What do you say, shall we help out?” Vyn asked you, leaning close as if the two of you were having an intimate and personal moment in the middle of the tickle fest. 

“Should we?” you asked, smirking. Vyn shrugged.

“I think we should.” And so you two rolled your chairs towards where Marius was laughing for his dear life.

“I refuhuhuse to plahahay your stuhuhupid gahahames!” he laughed, and he shrieked even louder when you joined in, clawing at his tummy while Artem continued to tickle his ribs and sides, and Luke was playfully wriggling his fingers under his arms, tickling his armpits.

“You’ll have to, Marius. Continue playing, I will be the one to answer your questions,” Vyn said, sitting right before him with his hands on his knees. He squeezed, and Marius let out a loud gasp.

“AHAHah!” His eyes widened, and you could see the realization on his face. He was stuck. He struggled with his bound arms, but even if he were to shake the tie off, you were certain these guys would not let him go easily. Heh. Neither would you. This was actually fun. 

“Ahaham I a rahahabit?!” Marius finally laughed, and you couldn’t help but giggle along. He was both cute and hilarious right now, and you continued to dance your fingers all over his belly. Vyn snickered and shook his head.

“No, you are not.”

“S-sehehehe, squirrel! A squirrehehel!”

“No,” Artem said firmly.

“A rahhaahat?!” Marius roared. 

Luke giggled. “Close, but no!” 

“AHAHAH! A MOUSEehehee! A stuhuhupid mouse!” 

Vyn smiled. “Correct.” To help ‘celebrate’, Luke switched to tickling Marius’ neck with scribbly finges as he taunted, “Bingo, finally you guessed something right! You are a mouse!” and meanwhile Artem continued to squeeze and pinch at different spots on Marius’ torso, from his upper sides to lower sides, his hips and back up towards his ribs, causing him to bounce hysterically.

“Thehehen stahahhap!” he laughed. 

“You are not there yet, Marius. You are a mouse, continue guessing.” 

“WHahahaht!” 

“Like I said, ask about his career!” Luke said, going back to tickling Marius’ underarms. Marius was giggling and snorting adorably, the grin on his face bigger than ever and a huge blush spreading on his cheeks.

“GAahahah-- a cohohop!?” he asked. Vyn shook his head.

“Can you name any mouse cop? You’ll have to do better than that, Marius,” he said, and he spidered his fingers all over Marius knees and thighs, making the poor ticklish heir bark out some more hysterical cackles.

“GAAGAHha! Not thehehere!” he roared. You were still tickling Marius’ tummy, gently and not too harshly, but you couldn’t help but move up his shirt a little and scribbled circles around on his stomach, fluttering all over the soft bare skin. Marius seemed to get even more flustered at this, and he shook his head. The card threatened to fall off, but Artem slapped it firmly back on Marius’ head, making the guy yelp out loud.

“HAHAHA! Artehehem you ahahaass-ahaha!” 

“Marius, remember the questions I asked when I was Harry Potter,” you tried to help him fondly even though you couldn’t stop your fingers from tickling Marius’ sensitive tummy without mercy. 

“HEYAhah!” Marius squealed and shook his head again, but this time the card was glued firmly to his forehead, and he continued his hysterical laughing fit.

“Hahahha! Ahaham I on T-Teehehee-TV?!” Marius laughed, indeed succeeding to copy your questions from earlier.

“Correct.” 

“OHOhoh! Ahaham I Jeheherry?!” Marius really appeared like he thought he finally guessed correct, but Vyn’s answer was a teasy “No~” and he punished the wrong guess with fierce squeezes right above Marius’ knees, making him howl for his ticklish life.

“AHhahahah! Nohhoho thihis ihiihisn’t fahahahair!” he laughed. You smiled, wonderstruck by how attractive the young heir looked laughing his head off like this.

“It’s a little fair, Marius. Continue guessing, you’re so close,” you encouraged.

“Come on man, can’t you really think of any other famous mouse on TV?” Luke asked - his tickles were the most energetic, switching from rapid pokes and finger wiggles and switching spots even when it would cause his hands to bump against yours or Artem's.

“PIHIHIKACHU!” Marius roared. Luke frowned.

“That’s a mouse?” he asked, to which you nodded.

“Actually it is. But wrong guess, Marius!” 

By now Marius was really turning beet red as he continued to laugh and struggle. Artem had been quiet for a while, tickling Marius with concentration and focus of a typical lawyer, and he smirked as he drilled his fingers between Marius’ ribs.

“I think it is a talent in itself that you give so many wrong guesses, Von Hagen,” he said, triggering Marius but all the graduate student could do was laugh and giggle more as he was attacked from all sides. You only noticed now that his arms were already free again after so much struggling, but both Artem and Luke were holding an arm each, and Marius could do very little with the strength he had left. 

Using their free hands, both men continued to tickle him, making him giggle and squeal even when he was nearly out of breath.

“Guess it right, or give up,” Artem said. Vyn made a face at that.

“Mr. Wing is right,” he said teasingly. “If you would like, you can give up. It means you lose the game.” 

Marius made a face that expressed his surprise and confusion that giving up was still a possibility. But then he shouted “Nahaha-neheheever!” while continuing to squirm in between them.

“Then have it your way~!” Luke said, getting up from where he was sitting so he could tickle his armpits more comfortably. 

“Heeehehehehe! Nahahaha!” You were getting the impression that stubborn Marius was going to laugh himself to death here if he couldn’t still guess the character that wasn’t even so hard. 

Maybe you were enjoying yourself a little too much by bullying your ticklish partner like this, and not just for evil reasons. But when you looked at Artem, Luke and Vyn, you recognized expressions that matched your mood as well. They all looked fond to have the usually arrogant heir laughing like this and refusing to give in.

“Ahahaahahlright I gihihive! Guhuhhuys, enahahaa-enough! I gihiive uuhup!” he finally wheezed. Surprised he still didn’t guess it, you were the first to stop tickling his stomach, and you sat back. Luke also stopped tickling, so did Artem, and finally Vyn stopped the squeezing and digging movements his hands were making on Marius’ legs.  

Leaning forward and bending his head, Marius panted and wheezed, catching his breath tiredly. And as he did, the card finally let go of his sweaty forehead and twirled down onto his lap. It fell with the text upwards, and you could see the realization on Marius’ face as he read it:

Mickey Mouse.

“N-no way,” he panted.

“Not so hard, huh? Can’t believe you didn’t think of the most famous mouse in the world,” Luke said smugly, patting Marius’ shoulder.

“Like I said, you can’t be good at everything,” Artem said, patting his other shoulder. 

“Unbelievable... Mi-Mickey Mouseー” Marius panted, and he raised his head suddenly and glared at everyone.

“You wrote my card, didn’t you-- R-Rosa?” he panted, smirking at you despite his exhausted state. You blinked your eyes.

“King,” you said, using his codename like he kept using yours, and you smiled nervously. 

“She did,” Vyn said, standing behind you with both hands on your shoulders.

“Anything you want to tell her, Mr. Mouse?” he asked. You giggled at the new nickname for Marius, but noticed this certain teasy remark wasn’t necessarily directed at Marius. Gulp. You looked up at Vyn. Why was this situation suddenly getting suspicious? 

“It was also not our idea to play this game. You can’t blame us,” Luke suddenly said. You gasped, turning your head towards him. Wha--?! Yes, it was your idea, so...? You finally looked at Artem, your eyes begging for his help, but you blushed to see the smirk on his face.

“Clever. You perhaps knew that such classic pop culture is Marius’ weakness? Are you the mastermind behind all this?” he said. You started to stutter, blushing like crazy. They were placing the blame for their stupid quarrels and the tickle incident ー which you joined but that wasn’t the point ー on you! 

“N-no of course nohot! Marius I thought it wahahasn’t difficult, ahaahah M-Mariuhuuus!” you whined when Marius lunged at you and started to avenge whatever was left of his dignity by tickling you, the one most responsible for his predicament just now.

“Guys, I might just forgive you for what you did to me if you help me out right now,” Marius purred, smirking at the others. It was no surprise after what all of them said, but still to suddenly have the tables turned with you ending up in Marius’ position of the one tickled by all of the NXX squad, well, that was something you could never ever be properly prepared for.

“HAHahaha- guuuuys!” you howled, but these four had the time of their lives wrecking you, and you were surprised at their well-played teamwork. 

Well all in all, you had achieved your goal though: team bonding, check. Having fun, check. Having a laugh? Thanks to Mr. Mouse, double check! 

[fakegingerrights]

Breathe, Rest.

[Rex x Civvie!reader, set post Zygerria. Established relationship, just some good ol' hurt/comfort. TW for scars, I guess and partial undressing in a non sexual way.]

The 79's were crowded. The 212th and the 501st were both back on Coruscant for two weeks after their jedi were told to rest after a particularly dangerous mission rescuing an entire colony of togruta people from slavery.

Predictably, it had ended up all over the holonet. You sat at the bar, waiting for a certain Captain to come sweep you off your feet like he had promised last time he had commed before he set out to Kiros. You saw some of his men milling about the bar, Fives and Kix wave at you as you catch their eye, but no captain until-

"And who's a pretty lady like you waiting all alone like this for?" A familiar voice says behind you. You smile and take a sip of the drink you've been nursing as Rex's familiar presence settles in next to you.

"Oh, no one. Just hoping a certain handsome captain makes it home to sweep me off my feet." You shoot back.

"A handsome captain, huh? Do I fit the bill?" You turn to face him as he rakes a hand over freshly cut hair. In one place you can still see where the clippers had cut tracks through it. His cheekbones are prominent through his skin and his eyes are sunken and bruised underneath from poor sleep and even worse nutrition if you knew anything. Adding in the pale skin and chapped lips and you knew something was up.

"When you're running on more than fumes, Rex. What happened?" You ask. He's still in his armor, his blasters are still on his hips. Its absent of carbon scoring or patches in the plastoid, but it also doesn't smell like ozone like it normally does after deployment, and he definitely hasn't detailed it since he left, you can still see pink in the scratches of the top of his breastplate where you had left a lipstick mark as a joke. Rex sighs heavily, turning to face the crowd and leaning back against the bar.

"What do you say we get out of here, back to your place?" It's phrased casually, but you see the heavy look in Rex's eyes. You don't comment on how he avoided your question, opting to instead grab your purse and lean over to press a kiss against his cheek, startling him slightly.

"Lets." You answer. He offers a wan smile in return, following you through the crowd to the catwalk that lead to your apartment complex.

Rex lets out a long sigh as you two make it into your apartment, crouching doing to undo the seals that kept his armored boots in place before kicking them off. He works from the bottom up, and you move to help him get the clasps on his back and shoulders as plate by plate his armor comes off and is stacked neatly by his boots. You notice he's moving stiffly around the shoulders and he doesn't bend down, choosing to sit down fully on the floor to remove his shin guards and work his way upwards.

"You're hurt." You note softly as you pull his back plate apart from his breast plate so he doesn't have to move his shoulders as much. He grunts slightly in responce.

"Kix cleared me, it's beyond the help of bacta, apparently. Skin is fine, just some tenderness and scaring as the muscles heal." His voice is equally quiet.

"What happened, Rex?" You help him to his feet, wanting to move in to hug him but hesitating. He makes the decision for you, pulling you in close and wrapping his arms around you, like he could soak up your warmth if he tried hard enough. You return the hug, your fingers instantly finding and tracing unfamiliar lines of presumably scar tissue. It covered his whole back. He hisses slightly and you pull your hands quickly away.

"Kavado happened. I was sent with the jedi to find the Togruta, went with Kenobi." Realization hits you like a thunderbolt.

"You... You were on Kavado? The whole time Kenobi was... These are whip marks?" You pull back to look him in the face. "Your armor hasn't even been worn... Kriffin hell, Rex!" You're more mindful of your hands this time, burying your face in his chest as your throat constricts painfully.

"I'm alright now, Mesh'la. Just have to wait for the inflammation to go down and there'll hardly be a mark." He murmurs in your ear. "I'll be fine."

"I got you some sleepwear. If you want to go change out of your blacks. The left side of the dresser is officially yours. Just some sweats and loose shirts for now, once I have more wiggle room in my savings we can get some more every day clothes so you don't have to wear those itchy uniforms." Your voice is a murmur as you pull back and stand up on your toes a bit to kiss him properly.

"You don't have to do that. I'm fine wearing my greys." A gloved hand comes up to press against your cheek, the cool material of the neoprene smooth on your skin. You lean into the touch.

"I want you to have a place to go when the war is over. Here is as good as any. Have you eaten yet? I can get started on a late dinner while you go shower and change."

"Real food would be nice after a month of stale bread and water." He agreed. "I... yeah, that would be nice." He disappeared into your bedroom as you started to prep a light meal of plain pasta and hamburger meat. As you strain the water from the noodles you hear your name called softly from your room. Setting the pot on the stove and turning off the heat you peak into the room to see Rex standing in a pair of black joggers and the top half of his blacks, a crimson tinge to his ears.

"I... Can you get the seam on the sides of my blacks? I don't think I can pull it over my head like usual."

You step in close to him instantly, finding the cling-seal on the side of his blacks behind his shoulder and carefully separating them all the way down, exposing tan skin crisscrossed by raised pink lines as you guide his shoulders free of the thin material.

"You'd think they'd be easier to get out of than in to, with all the injuries that happen on the battlefield." You joke, trying not to stare at the mess of scars.

"We usually cut them off when they can't get out." He rolls his shoulders carefully, sighing.

"If you don't want to put a shirt on again you don't have to. It's just us here." You comment.

"You just like seeing me without it." Rex accused playfully, a bit of his usual gleam returning to his eyes.

"Guilty. And... are you sure you can't put any bacta on this? These look nasty and if they're hurting this badly..."

"There's no broken skin, topical bacta wouldn't do much... and I was a little hurried in getting out of the medbay. I had someone waiting for me." He turns and presses a kiss to your temple.

"You shouldn't skip medical attention just to see your girlfriend! I could have waited a few more minutes." You wag a finger at him, going to the dresser and scanning through the various lotions and perfumes littered on the top of your side before you found the numbing one you used when you were sore after a long day of work. "Pasta is still too hot, sit down." You motion over your shoulder to the bed. You hear the springs on your bed creak slightly as he sits down, staring at the floor between his feet as he places his forearms on his knees, hunkered over. It was almost comical if he didn't look so lost, such a large man curled up like that. You squeeze some of the lotion into your hand, feeling the instant pleasant tingling sensation at the contact with your skin.

Rex flinches away from you slightly as you sit down before relaxing. You press a kiss to his shoulder, avoiding the raised marks.

"You're safe here, Love." You whisper as you start rubbing the lotion into the scars across his back. He tenses up slightly at the contact before sighing in relief as the lotion takes effect.

"I know. This stuff is magic, where'd you get it?" He hunches shoulders forward so you have better access, groaning slightly with the movement.

"Over the counter at a local pharmacy. It's a muscle relaxant and numbing agent. Do you want me to send a bottle with you when you leave again?" You asked, carefully beginning to work on the muscles beneath the scars, releasing tight knots and watching Rex's reaction closely.

"You're already given me so much." He whispered. "I can never pay you back. You know this and give me more."

"You do pay me back, Rex. You're fighting for my safety every day, and you come home and sit by my side and bring me so much happiness. It's me who can never repay you."

"..."

He's silent for a moment, thinking about this before he finally speaks.

"I love you."

You answer without hesitation.

"I know."

Rex sighs as you pull away, catching and pressing a kiss to the outside of your wrist, careful to not get any lotion on his lips. "Thank you, Mesh'la." His golden eyes are so earnest it hurts. You crook a finger and tilt his chin up for a proper kiss, then pulling apart enough to press your forehead to his.

"I love you too, Rex. Always." You promise into the space between the two of you.

"Always." He echoes back.

[fromashesweriseuphiddenones]

Thoughts on Haytham

- from both ( @thegrandmasterhaytham & @mythicalvoid787 )

So there are 30 Templars I use in my writing and Rp with a split of 16 for the Selfish and 14 for the more noble ones. Haytham Kenway to me falls into the noble side of the Templars.

The noble Templars are those who despite the nature of wanting complete order still do their best to protect humanity and even go as far as to either protect or work with the assassins. Some other examples of the more noble ones are The De leserres, Robert De Sable, Alfred the Great, Shay Cormac, and yes I count him Edward Kenway.

Look if Shay counts as an assassin but never fully fledged, then Edward counts as a Templar never taking the order's vows, though he did work for them and gained from it.

In a list of top ten favorite Templars Haytham Kenway ranks in at number two because of his story, how he acts both to protect the native people from slavery and he told Lee to leave them alone God damn it man can you not listen to orders?! God Robert's men were better at this balance. Anyway.

Okay as far as Haytham Kenway goes as a character and why I like him? He is more complex. Rouge and 3 and a little bit of Black Flag give us small glimpses into who he is. I honestly think Jango Fett's line to Kenobi works best here

"I am just a simple man trying to make my way in the galaxy."

Though it would be the world but you get it.

Who is Haytham?

Really deep down, a traumatized ten year old who lost his father in a violent manner, who tried fighting back actually killing someone, who's mother his only other adult parent shunned and turned her back on him for killing, a little boy who's older sister was kidnapped (who truly knows what happens to Jennifer when she was in Damascus), and a boy who was groomed into a Templar. Again I pull a quote from Kingdom Hearts 2

"Xaldin... that's his name. He came from the darkness... He...used my anger to control me. He took all my sorrow, my sadness, my pain—and turned it all into rage. There was nothing I could do... I could no longer see the truth."

Though for Haytham it would be Birch. Brich brainwashed him into being a Templar, it didn't fully work because there was still enough of Edward in Haytham that he himself had killed Templars leading to the destruction of the colonial rite.

Haytham Kenway is a family man that is clear. He loves his parents, looks after his sister, respects Ziio enough to stay away when she tells him to and works with Ratohnhaké:ton even getting a bit miffed the Red Coat for saying "tasting the wild fruits" you cannot tell me he wasn't pissed that Ziio got insulted and that Ratohnhaké:ton was the only one mad. You also can't tell me he wasn't somewhat proud of the man his son had become.

As far as Desmond's ancestors go I would honestly put him at number Three because in terms of character development because he has four to five sources in which players can experience him. Ezio Auditore takes number one because he has four games, three books, and three short movies in which one can get to know him. Altaïr ibn-La'Ahad is on second with five, three games, his keys in Revelations, and Secret Crusade. Though in his case I guess you can count his Codex since you can read it in AC2 and on the AC wiki, so six.

Okay headcanon time!

So due to exposure to his memories Haytham gives Desmond access to the following languages and dialects

British/proper* English

Spanish (proper)

French (proper)

And German (Proper)

*when I say proper or honorific I refer to the way one is taught in the high school class when you take these languages. Or in the case of English the King/ Queen's English.

The following skills are also from Haytham Kenway

Diplomacy

Command

Negotiation

Gun use, 19th century

I think honestly that in his own way he'd be proud of Desmond for sacrificing himself to save the world from burning because there would be people who are descended from friends, colleagues, and even like Desmond, descended from Ziio and Ratohnhaké:ton's people and I doubt he would ever wish harm on them.

I hope this was enough, feel free, anyone to ask about other characters if you want this deep of a dive.

[toxxxic-mess]

Introduction

Hey losers, and Hello Alphas.

This is my new blog, after my previous was once again banned. A few boring bits out of the way though since we’re here.

Firstly; Incase you can’t tell, I’m a beta loser. I believe woman are superior to me, and I can’t compete with real men when it comes to girls. So please don’t ask me to dominate you etc, and also please don’t call me Sir, this is a major turn off for me, just a heads up if we’re chatting and it goes quiet. My preferred pronoun is “it” :)

Also I’m happy to chat to others, it’s why keep coming back despite the constant deactivation of my accounts. But due to the amount of conversations and the amount of gooning etc, I’m less likely to reply to messages that just say hi or how are you etc. Don’t take it offensively, it’s just between a choice of spending time gooning with another loser over a hot girl, or making small talk, becoming a better beta loser will also take precedence.

The reason I post online is because I love being a loser. I love gooning to worse and worse things, and getting others to jerk off to worse and worse things. Everything I post online about myself is true, such as stories etc, and if I post about followers etc it will be a mix of true and exaggeration to get them triggered, assuming that the bits that are true are in turn told to me truthfully. For instance, if I make an exposure caption about a loser, everything in the post is true based on what they tell me. I can’t guarantee what they’ve told me, but also if I don’t believe them I won’t post. Just take it with a grain of salt. However, while I am a loser and enjoy doing humiliating things, a lot of things I am physically unable to do. This is because I have a girlfriend. No, I will not share pictures or talk about her any more, but yes, I am still a virgin. We have a good relationship, but she doesn’t enjoy being dominant or seeing me as a sissy etc, so we have an agreement I can explore fantasies online etc, and what I do at home when alone is my business. Essentially an ignorance is bliss agreement, which is fair enough, if not ideal. But it does mean things more permanent like for instance decorating my room in pink with Barbies etc just won’t happen.

I jerk to a lot, though ironically, “normal” porn doesn’t do anything for me, nor do most captions, though will post a few to encourage other losers to be better gooners. I guess being in mid 30’s and jerking off since a teen daily means I’ve seen so much it’s just boring now. As such, I’ve gotten into quite niche areas of porn, as you don’t see much so it feels fresh, though down side isn’t much of it. My biggest turn on is corruption, being turned into the opposite of what makes me me. There’s the obvious stuff like bimbofication and sissisfication, hypnosis etc, but I love the more mental alterations such as false memories, religious play and political play etc. I love gooning to anime waifus, as I try to convince myself real girls are too good for me, I’ve also started gooning to corporations. Power is sexy, corporations have power this corporations are sexy. I believe people should be treated fair, so gooning to companies paying less than minimum wage and denying rights just feels hot. As I said, been getting into niche stuff. I also enjoy making vices worse such as drinking and smoking, or creating new vices if needed too. Hopefully they’ll be more normal stuff on here for everyone, but if you develop new kinks because of it, then I’ve helped make you a worse loser, which is exactly what you should be. When I do jerk to real girls, my favourite is Riley Reid though Livvy Dunne is a close second, and you’ll see I do enjoy the Chav/White Trash aesthetic. I also have a huge crush and inferiority complex to Asian women, and obsess over e-girls like Alice Delish and Belle Delphine

A lot of what I post is not my content. Again, due to constant deactivation from higher up, I lose track of who posted what. However stuff I post that isn’t mine I fee needs to be shared as it’s so good. So if you see something you made, please don’t think I’m taking credit for it. I just wanted to share it. If I post something you made, DM me and I can take it down, attribute credit or re-blog your version etc. whatever works for you.

I do make original captions etc, but honestly, only when I feel like it, and if feel inspired by any sent pictures etc. if you want a caption send pictures and I’ll see what can do, but just be prepared I might not. I’m more likely to post if you say what sort of caption or any info you want requested in it, and almost always do it if we’ve been chatting and we’ve made each other worse perverts.

I also log into peoples social media, people who know me from my other blogs can attest to how triggering it is. If you request this, we will agree on conditions before hand, and I will do no more or no less than what we agree. Again, others can attest this is the case, but if you’re unsure, there’s nothing I can say that will change your mind. I’ve logged into peoples FB, found their hot friends and posted their pics on here turning them into goon fuel for other perverts, posted embarrassing statuses (you can always say you were hacked :) ) or just watched friends talk to you, and DM you messages on here about what I COULD reply to them posing as you. One person even let me reply to them occasionally on the condition he could send the next message after. Again whatever works for you, anything to help losers get triggered more. Getting triggered more means you need a bigger dopamine hit next time for that rush which means more time dedicated to porn. Porn always wins.

Anyway, think that’s the end of the long post done. Will post a couple of girls now just to end the wall of text.

[houseofbrat]

Still so William let his cancer stricken wife being trolled online for the mother day pictures as well have her carry bags during at the farmers market. William sigh

That's the worst part. She had cancer all along and William was like "all right under the bus you go Cathy!"

Meanwhile the stans are calling him a hot zaddy and lusting after him.

Granted we are on Reddit so I guess the bare minimum is expected for men.

They have an entire press office and people that they pay to be their mouthpiece to the public.  Why the hell didn’t they just hand all of this off to them to have a plan to roll out to the public?  How did this go so badly?

Honestly, I'd love to know the whole story. Just to be clear, I mean the whole story of the PR fiasco, not Kate's specific medical problems.

This might be an incredibly unpopular opinion, not sure, but I really disagree with everyone saying oh she shouldn't have had to tell us about her cancer, she should have full privacy, etc. I agree with those thoughts for celebrities and influencers, but for people supposed to lead a country and whose lives are being fully funded by taxpayers, I do think they owe a duty of transparency around their health. I'm in the U.S. and we've all seen outrage because Biden's defense secretary kept cancer a secret for like a day, because Trump refused to release his physical results, I could go on.

I think it’s a really hard judgement to make because royalty is such a unique role, and there really isn’t much to compare it to.  Not to mention that there are 2 separate questions: what was she obligated to announce and what should they have expected as far as levels of curiosity about a high profile public figure.  I do think that there would have been strategies that they could have used to better preserve privacy in the face of public curiosity.

I agree. I tend to think royalty doesn't get to be totally private about major life events but that doesn't mean they don't deserve ANY privacy. I just feel like the outraged comments about how sad it is she was forced to tell people because of their evil speculating ways are going too far in the other direction.

I don't think she necessarily has to share a diagnosis, but expecting that she could disappear entirely from public view and no-one would ask any questions is ridiculous. They had at least two months to come up with any plan besides complete silence.

I never wanted them to discuss her medical issues but transparency would have helped. Don't treat people like idiots. They mishandled this, and there were a million ways to keep things private but not have things turn into a cluster. Prayers for Catherine.

in terms of prognosis...

"preventive" chemotherapy is a positive sign here

the fact that the surgeon did not recognize he was looking at a cancer tumor in the OR is a positive sign here

the fact that it required a complex biopsy (it took 5 weeks) for the pathology to find the cancer is a positive sign.

Having been through this recently with a spouse, what you’re saying sounds correct to me too.  She would have had the best of diagnostic tools, so that would have ruled out large masses.  The language also indicates that what they found was small.

whoever ran the PR definitely did it poorly. Part of the reason the mother's day photo blew into a bigger news event was all the major news agencies put out a kill notice on it. and they only did that because Kensington palace declined to share the unedited one when asked.

Chetwynd said news agencies asked Kensington Palace to provide the original photo, but they did not receive a reply. That’s when they decided to issue “kill notices,” something that is very rarely done.

but they didn’t stick to the timeline.. they decided to reveal a doctored image and then make Kate take the fall for it. even if she did edit the picture on her own just for fun, they didn’t have to put it on her alone? the whole thing was so odd.

They could have skipped the fake photo release. They could have reacted to the swell of interest by putting out a statement that there have been developments and they will communicate when they are ready. To pretend nothing happened since the Jan announcement is disingenuous and PR is about real time handling