#for more than one reason that has less to do with me and more with some things I

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

Marc, Believe me when I tell you that arguing with these people is tantamount to useless. They get their jollies by advocating for violence and death because they see the world through a lens of, "everything I think is wrong is violence and oppression". And therefore believe that anything that they do is justice.

Never you mind if the right were moraless like this, with the exact same sentiment they'd have purged the se lunatics a long time ago and probably worse. Thankfully the majority of the right aren't self-righteous lunatics. Yes the right has its own fringes but they are significantly less in number and are more often than not shunned by the rest of the right. Meanwhile I see moderates on the left making this exact same argument. And it is wild. Killing a CEO of a publicly owned company does absolutely nothing. Because as has been discussed in dozens of other posts, Even if the company were to operate at a zero profit margin they would still only be able to help 73% of the people who are part of their insurance program. So even if they did not have a claim denial system there'd still be a 27% denial rate. Because hospitals control the costs of your medical treatments not insurance companies.

And CEOs of publicly traded companies are figureheads at best. So not only are you not doing a good thing murdering someone in cold blood. But all you did was murder a figurehead rather than anyone with any real power in the company. Not that I'd be advocating for that either. Because either murder is always wrong or be prepared for people who are not okay with you to have the exact same sentiment. Because one day they will and you're going to freak out because you are supposedly the good guy. But guess what? That's you viewing yourself as the main character. Meanwhile every person in the world generally tends to view themselves of the main character; and whenever they decide to act on their moral righteousness You will eventually become the target. Because their view will be that they are correct and you need to be purged for "all the right reasons".

Update! Luigi's Attorney Dickey confirms that his "outburst" where he tells the cameras that this is unjust, was because he was never read his miranda rights and was under the impression at that time that he was being denied the right to a fair trial, an attorney, or any legal representation.

He is angry and terrified in that footage because they have failed to follow basic procedure to inform him that he has any rights at all. This is a major red flag of police corruption. This is UNACCEPTABLE and further means any interrogation they did of him is unlawful, and inadmissible in court.

[papermonkeyism]

Very sorry if you've talked about this before, but how much do you focus on/care about making the plantlife in your Dinosaur Project Thingy accurate for the time and place?

Asking both because I'm generally very curious, and because personally, every time I make it past my anxieties about not knowing enough about dinosaurs to be "allowed" to draw them, I run right up against "oh shoot, if I draw a grass in the background, people are going to kill me."

Having a cartoonier art style helps! If your style is photorealistic, the style is going to require more details that also make errors way more present and visible, but like, the way I draw trees for example you can't really tell if I'm drawing an aspen, an oak or a basswood, you know? It's just a leaf blob with a trunk in the middle. There's no identifying that.

Also, like 99% of my audience who follows my art follows it for creatures and characters, not plant life, and those more well versed on plants aren't as likely to care. At least nobody has come to bark at me because of it this far!

Considering the amount of actual, professional palaeoartists who basically use memes in their art, I think it's okay and fine for hobbyists and cartoonists to not know everything, right?

(Seriously, the amount of artists who draw theropods with no soft tissue around the jawline is wild! You know that classic look where the entire face splits along the skull all the way to the back of the jaw joint, and drawing that pink skin flap at the corner of the mouth? That's the jaw muscles. Why would a giant land apex predator not have skin protecting its jaw muscles? [Also, is that really what jaw muscles look like? A skin flap? Come on.] I've seen some Actual Professional Artists draw these giant cavities inside the cheek area of things like T. rex, that's where the muscles should be! Where do you think the legendary bite force -which this specific animal is known for- comes from? I mean, it works for animatronics, like in Jurassic Park, because it's hard to give soft tissue to robots that would hold up, but it's less of a thing for art, I think.)

I have a field guide book for Hell Creek formation that I'm gonna reference from when needed. Years ago I backed this kickstarter for a dinosaur video game, specifically so that I could get my hands on the book for this exact reason. It has plants section!

Few rules of thumb:

Trees Big. No, bigger!

No grass (if very late Cretaceous, then maybe grass? but research first!)

No flowers, unless Cretaceous. Might be worth googling "Cretaceous flowers" for specifics

When in doubt, ferns and/or conifers.

Also, finally, this is just me, but it can help to set yourself a "target audience" (with quotes). Personally, I'm making my project for myself and maybe a handful of people I know IRL. I only aim for the joy of these specific bunch of friends and family. Anyone beyond that is just bonus, and while I am very glad there are great many more people who do enjoy my work, it's less important than if my friends like it. And if there's one of the extra bonus people who thinks this one plant on the background of my art ruins their enjoyment of my work and me as a person, then that's a them-problem, not a me-problem, if my friend Satu still thinks the drawing is cool.

(Honestly, knowing these specific people, I wouldn't even have to be as accurate as I am, but unfortunately I did include "myself" in my target audience, so here I am.)

[pinksugarscrub]

My Punny Valentine

Jason Todd x fem! Reader

There's nothing better than movie nights with Jason but with Valentine's approaching, tonight is...a special occasion.

( @hyperfix-wip again, my beautiful apricot tart beta reader❣️)

Word count: 1,027

Warnings: cursing, sugar rush

~

The kitchen is…not necessarily in ruins. All of the ingredients have been responsibly returned to the pantry and fridge. It’s the bowls and whisks in the sink that are effectively killing the vibe of cute and demure.

Wiping away the sugar and flour from the counter you’re preparing a space for yourself and most importantly Jason.

Your lovable boyfriend is across the room. Flipping to the first movie on your list, Pride and Prejudice. Freshly showered and smelling like the expensive products you had gifted him on your anniversary.

When he returns to your side he’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his nose into the crook of your neck. He smells even more amazing up close; it almost makes your head spin.

“Almost ready babe? Looks delicious.”

You snort, refraining from making a less than innocent comment as you nod. “The cakes are chilling in the fridge. Will you get them for me?”

Jason chuckles, planting a kiss on your temple. “Course princess.”

You swoon because no matter how many times Jason has talked to you so sweetly, he still manages to make you giddy. Shameless or not, he could be the judge of that, you follow him with your eyes. Admiring the loose shirt and wonder woman themed sweats he had chosen to wear.

Seeing him so relaxed was what you lived for. There’s only so much you understand about his work as Red Hood along with his family (who are lovely by the way). Just the two of you for the second night in a row is making you crave this domestic life every night.

“You gonna keep undressing me with those pretty eyes or are we gonna decorate these?”

Jason laughs as your face contorts into embarrassment. Both of his hands are occupied with small heart shaped cakes.

Occupying yourself with grabbing Jason an apron so you don’t have to answer, you promptly walk past him. He only laughs harder as he sets the cakes down.

Your apron is already caked with flour, batter, and icing. So you’re careful not to smear any on him when he ducks down so you can adjust his apron.

Your fingers trace down his neck to reach the strings at his waist when he stops you. He takes your momentary confusion as the opportunity to kiss your lips. Tasting the sugar you most definitely ate while you were making the frosting.

“What was that for?” You ask in a daze. Certainly not complaining but definitely not expecting to feel weak at the knees.

“Do I need a reason?”

“No,” you slowly grin, “I guess not.”

Jason returns your grin while tying his apron expertly.

A wheeze leaves your lips once you’ve noticed the lettering on his chest. You hadn’t realized you had grabbed that one.

“What? Oh no,” he groans. Rolling his eyes at the ridiculous gift Dick had gotten him.

“No no!” You exclaim while putting your hands on his chest when he prepares to rip it off. Struggling to breathe through your words. “It’s fine Jace. Really.”

“Fine my ass.”

“Yes it is.”

“...not now babe.”

Raising your hands in mock defeat you walk over to the counter. Wiping away the tears that had collected in the corner of your eye. “Alright, alright. Cake first.”

Jason sighs but keeps the gag worthy, burn-it-in-a-sewer thing on. “And Austen.”

“You mean Keira Knightley,” you correct.

“She is pretty attractive.”

“Right!? I don’t know about Mr. Darcy though…couldn’t they have picked I don’t know-”

“So you know Elizabeth’s actress but not Darcy’s?” Jason raises a brow. Bumping your hip with his as he slides comfortably beside you.

“It’s Keira Knightly!” You protest. Reaching for a piping bag of red icing to hand to him.

“Name one other movie she’s been in.”

You open your mouth but your mind has drawn a blank. After a moment of silence you finally speak up. “I don’t like this game anymore.”

“It wasn’t a game to begin with sweetheart.”

Sticking your tongue out childishly you reach for your own bag of icing. “Ok ok, ready?”

Jason hums as he smiles. “Teach away.”

Sure, Jason is proficient in the kitchen.

If he really wanted to, he could figure out the intricacies of cake decorating. But when you brought the idea of having a Jane Austen themed movie night, especially so close to Valentine’s day, he couldn’t say no. When did he ever say no to spending time with you when he was finally off patrol?

Jason knows how hard it is. While he’s gaining bruises you’re here, in your apartment, worried. He’s also quite sure that despite the brave face you put on, you've missed him. Especially in these last few months.

Rejoining his family has created caseload after caseload and awkward meetings with Bruce (Which you graciously listen to him rant about when he comes home to you).

Oh you were perfect.

Put up with his shit and took care of him when he couldn’t do it himself. He never was one to think he’d take on a partner. Dating “coworkers��� was too hectic and his life wasn’t anywhere near normal but you made it easy. You added to his life.

As you started explaining the different borders you could create with a variety of star tips he leans in closer. Letting you take his hand and slowly squeeze the piping bag together to show him the consistency.

There were times where he purposefully kissed along your shoulder when you were explaining. It was his absolute favorite thing to do. Watch you squirm and try to focus.

The movie played quietly in the background and rain soon accompanied it. That was another thing.

Rain didn’t make him feel gloomy anymore. Instead his memories were filled with you. Curled up with a book. In his lap as you switched between reading for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy while the rain came down.

By the time you’re both finished there are several puns iced along your cake and frosting on both of your noses.

Overall the night was perfect and yes, Jason accepted your request of being your punny valentine.

-

Taglist: @insideoutjulie

[osamucide]

⊹ THE FIRST TASTE

LET IT BEGIN, HEAVEN CANNOT WAIT FOREVER . . . ft. Osamu Dazai

wc: ~3.6k

cw: NSFW CONTENT—MDNI (I BLOCK AGELESS+BLANK BLOGS), ada+masc!reader, reader has a tongue piercing, pet names (pretty boy and cutie for u), romantic and sexual tension, established flirtationship->new relationship?, a lil alcohol, making out, oral fixation/finger sucking, oral sex (Dazai receiving), cum eating (Dazai lol), patheticzai makes a spectacle of your shyness even though he can't just ask for what he wants good thing u have telepathy with him /j

reid: trade w my sweet friend @rossithepixie / @selfindulgentpixies who masterminded some beautiful osareid art for me <3 (if u havent seen it yet dw i will be reblogging it a million more times but also check out rossi's work neow cause he's super talented). thank you for trusting me with this rossi—it was such a blast to do a little lovesick dazai desperately chasing ur cute lil self into a corner (i listened to fiona apple's song with the same title a lot while i wrote this—is it obvious? lol). i hope u enjoy so much <3

It’s a cute little habit of yours. Unconscious, he knows, but that makes it no less cute. No less dangerous. 

Everyone notices you do it—Atsushi pointed out the jewelry poking from your mouth with awe when he first caught you fidgeting with it (“People can have piercings there? That’s so cool”)—but Osamu highly doubts anyone finds it nearly as charming, as endearing as he himself does. After all, he’s the one consistently wheeling over next to you on his chair to fold his arms under his chin on your desk and admire you unashamedly while you tie a loose end around a sentence in whatever report you’re writing before even thinking about turning your attention to him. 

So diligent. 

That’s another cute thing about you. You've been a star worker, really, since you started. In the months since you got hired, your reports have been nothing but thorough and on time; even your first steps into fieldwork as a detective have been spotless, practiced, as if you already know this work like the back of your hand. You’re personable yet serious, easygoing and dedicated all at the same time, continually proving your worth as a voice of reason and contribution around the meeting table as well as a supportive, kind, all-around more than pleasant coworker on and off of crime scenes. Not to mention, your ability’s nothing to scoff at.

You’re a true asset to the Armed Detective Agency. 

Which is why Kunikida’s glaring Osamu down again, threatening him silently with an HR department that unfortunately doesn’t exist—because, yes, you are for all intents and purposes perfect for this workplace and the blond man will simply not have you driven off by his partner’s insufferable tendencies. 

Even Kunikida’s wrath, however, is scarcely known to deter Osamu Dazai, and that is why, when he notices you doing it again—toying with the metal bar through your tongue in an absentminded display of your oh-so-coveted concentration on and application to your task, he scoots himself right over, rowing on his heels, brushing admonishing stares like he might dust off his shoulder and settling next to you, chin in his palm, feet knocking into yours beneath your desk. 

As expected, you don’t turn to him immediately. All the better. Gives him a few seconds more to admire you, your parted lips, the glint of the metal and your pretty teeth against the natural light streaming into the office on this lovely day, made all the lovelier by the vision of your adorable expression.

But when you do, it’s melt-worthy. 

“Hi, Osamu,” you mumble, turning your eyes to him and tucking your tongue back in to offer him that sweet but aware, workplace-appropriate smile that makes him grin even further. You’d have to be naive not to know he wants to strip you of that professionalism, but you make sure to give him time of day in only the most graceful way when you’re both at the office; for as charming as he is, and for as much as you must shyly admit you find him endearing just the same, you don’t turn a blind eye to his cunning nature. 

And like so many things, it’s a bit of a game that he enjoys—seeing what he can do to crack that competence of yours. 

But today he’s restless, so he punches low from the jump. 

“Hi, pretty boy,” he purrs, gaze searing into you. Signature. 

And just like he hopes, your brow raises and you look away, pursing your lips to mask your reaction to his antics. He usually toys with you a little longer before he brandishes the pet name he knows all too well gets your cheeks glowing pink in an instant—and that’s exactly what they do. Your coyness can’t hide that. 

“Eager today, are we?” you fill the silence with the lighthearted accusation, busying yourself on your keyboard so as to fight off the squirming you’re sensing will be futile to escape this afternoon.

“Yup.” When he pops the p, he nudges your ankle with his own. 

But in your busying, the tip of your tongue flicks out again, and Osamu’s seemingly-aimless display of fluster-inducing attention surges toward its goal, which he’s been contemplating for a few days now, actually: getting you out of this stuffy office (or the all-too public nearby bar you’ve started frequenting with him after hours, strictly as friends it seems—if friends tangle their fingers together after a few cocktails and then don’t make mention of it the next day, anyway) and into his dorm, which he actually tidied up because he calculated with most near-certainty there couldn’t possibly exist a world in which you’d turn down such an invitation. So he hopes, anyway. For as player as he acts, the way you make him feel sows seeds of doubt in him and his usual methods of seduction. You know full well how sincerely captivated he is by you… right? You must. You have to. 

“You know,” he continues, “I was wondering…” 

Mincing his words is never part of his plans. Unless, of course, it’ll draw a desired outcome closer than being direct will. But now, Osamu finds himself almost hesitating, with no prior inclination to do so; he’s wondering, not thinking, like he seems to do so much when you’re near him, and he doesn't know if you fully realize it, but you might have more control over… whatever this is between you than he does.

You tilt your head, still turned to your screen, as if it begins to occur to you. 

“...Drinks at my place?” he spits out—pointedly dropping the “double suicide?” intonation so it’s clear he’s serious—before he can give any more indication that he’s slipping.

When you look to him again, Osamu’s filled the space of his doubt with that low-lidded grin once more.

“Tonight?” 

“Tonight? Oh—” You clear your throat in a way that sounds oddly affirmative, as if you’re trying to keep it from bubbling out too soon. You’re so assured in everything else you do around here, so Osamu, ever the contrarian, regains his balance on the premise of your shyness. When you go to confirm, you’ve all but lost your teasing lilt. The flush on your face doesn’t miss him. “Yeah, that’d be nice, Osamu.” 

Nice. If he didn’t have an image to upkeep, he’d leap up and fistpump the air like a cartoon character. Perhaps, if he were more in tune with his hand-to-god emotions, he’d crumble to the floor in a ball wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into.

He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t clean his dorm, much less invite romantic prospects over to it. You’re new territory in the way he feels freshly determined not to mess up, so he keeps himself composed behind that smile. “When are you out of here?” 

“I can be out of here whenever you’re out of here,” you mumble, your lips pressed into a smirk you won’t let unfurl fully. He wishes you would. He’ll get you to. If he had it his way, he’d whisk you out of here now, clock be damned, and pop open that red dessert wine he picked up specifically for the event in which you would land on his uncomfortable little couch with your tongue lingering in, hopefully, closer proximity to his own. He’s seen you tipsy; you don’t suppress that air of sheepish enthrallment so much when you are, and he’s impatient for it. He needs more of you.

But it’s three in the afternoon, and Kunikida’s abruptly dragging Osamu by the collar of his shirt like a puppy on a leash to roll him back over to his own damn desk, muttering something about how if he had any decency he’d leave you the hell alone and if he wasn’t going to contribute anything of worth to the Agency’s productivity yield, the least he could do was not disturb those who are. 

This makes you chuckle fully as you shake your head. Osamu eats it up—and he doesn’t hide it, eyeing you with something most akin to yearning in his gaze. You have such an effortless knack for putting hearts in his eyes in a way he’s not used to. 

The rest of his shift dawdles by; as a way to pass the time, Osamu volunteers himself to run out and pick up the Thai takeout for those who will be clocking out later than he hopes he will. Kunikida so graciously (read: reluctantly and irritatedly) let him order on his card, so he claimed it as repayment; really, he needed to get out of his desk chair. 

He feels insane watching you play with that piercing of yours, his stack of unfinished reports (or, pre-construction paper planes) serving as no distraction. 

He delivers your spring rolls to you with a wink. He eats his pad thai and fools around on his desktop. He watches the sun streak down the window.

He actually considers getting some work done. It’s nearly torture.

He gets up to leave the second the clock strikes eight. If he was bad at focusing on work before, you’ve ruined him. 

The implication’s all too clear when you’re stepping into the evening air behind him. You don’t mind—it’s evident in your reserved but knowing smile, the one he so terribly wants to unravel. 

His place is threadbare, but cozy. You curl yourself up on one of the two couch cushions while Osamu sets two empty glasses and a bottle on the low table before you—he’s eager, too, for the wine; he’s aching to dispel both your timidity and his anxiety that it feeds. Maybe it’s just that he can’t seem to handle himself positively spiraling over you while you remain enchantingly reticent, quiet in the desire he knows flows between you both. Usually, he’s the one with all the self-control. Tonight he’s counting on you missing the tremble in his fingers as he pours. 

“Kunikida’s such a hardass, isn’t he?” he muses while he tucks a glass into your hand and draws himself up onto the couch, facing you, leaving a respectful but still considerably involved distance between you. Your knee almost touches his. “Berating me for something as little as asking such a cutie to come over for drinks. It’d be more criminal not to, I think.” 

You chuckle at his dramatics, taking a sip. It’s sweet, red. You remind him, “We are coworkers, Osamu.” 

He cocks his head, drinking deeper than you do, with a thoughtful look on his gorgeous face. He hums and reminds you, “We’re not just coworkers.” 

Your chuckle becomes a giggle—one less dubious than the short, amused headshakes you save for the office—and with your next question, he knows he’s pulling you in. You’ve been dancing around each other long enough; he’s warm, trying not to overflow when you speak—you finally sound ready to acknowledge what’s been turning him into a mess for you when you hum and press skittishly. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. 

“What else are we then, hm?” 

Your bashfulness reads so seamlessly as effortless wooing—he wonders if you’re so purely humble, or actually a mastermind of coquetry. The way you keep yourself veiled, thinly enough to keep him pining for more of you but staunchly too so that he constantly doubts whether the cat or the mouse has the upper hand, turns him to mush—absolute pathetic mush—and he answers a question with a question. You’ve got him going against all sorts of personal philosophy. 

“What else do you wanna be?” 

The answer gets lost between shifting hands, closing space, conversation and jokes that relax further and further as you both stabilize into one another over the following hour or so. A couple more glasses of wine are poured, drank, tasted—at some point in the blackening night you end up astride his lap in the dim lamplight with your glass in triumphant hand, tucking his hair behind his ear while he cups your face, simpers out another remark that makes you blush and wave him away; Osamu looks at you with something you can only construe through your buzz as pure want. Coming down from laughter that screws your eyes shut—he’s never short on humor, which is one of the things you think you love—love? about him, you say it aloud, tell him you do in fact love that about him and if he was all pure want a moment before, now he’s pure shock. 

But he plays it off in his way; you watch the intricate way he takes no more than a half-second to collect himself, just tipsy enough to get snagged on the words love that about you that the half-second seems a feature-length film to you—one you would watch over, over, over again. 

Osamu slides four fingers on one side of your jaw, thumb on the other—holding your chin gently but firmly in place so he can bore like fire into you.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, half sincere, half flirtatious. Your gaze scatters momentarily beneath his; you take a second, copy his recovery.  

You hesitate before you say, “I think I have some idea,” fully sincere, fully flirtatious. When you pinch your bottom lip between your teeth—not an unconscious habit but an intentional move in this game—he thinks this is what middle school boys must feel like the first time they get close to their crush. It sickens him so sweetly, like he’s swallowed a lump of sugar. He wants more. 

Your breath coils around his between your noses, between your mouths. The wine in your glass sloshes and settles.  

“Can I tell you what drives me crazy?” he breathes. 

You nod like you’ve been waiting lifetimes to know. 

He answers not with words but a touch to your lip—a stroke back and forth that leaves you parting for him. He leaves feather-light fingerprints on the sharp of your front teeth, pushing, slowly, forward until the hot muscle in your mouth cradles his thumb and he’s touching that devil-sent piercing of yours, the ball all at once cool and warm as it twirls to evade him.

“This,” he whispers, chasing the metal back and forth. “This drives me crazy.” 

You don’t respond with anything but suction, a soft bob of your head like you understand, and a hmm.

Osamu thinks he might implode beneath you. 

His attention has hardly ever felt so streamlined as when you search his face, circle his thumb, wet it for him to retract and drag down your chin while you draw your brow together like you miss it—his eyes are all yours, wide and waiting and holding the answers to all the questions drifting around, surrounding both of you. 

The kiss is searing as he pulls you into him—or, hardly has to, rather, as your eyes flutter shut and you lean to meet him, five of your fingers matching his grip but on his shoulder while you suffocate that mingled breath so it becomes mingled spit, mingled tongues. He worms himself past your lips, into you—he almost moans when the tip of his own tongue brushes across the jewelry sitting on the pad of your tongue like a pearl in an oyster. He’s finally cracking you open. It makes him smile wickedly into you. 

Your arms locking around his neck leave him rolling into you hotly, asking for you with anything but words which escape him again now—so uncharacteristic, but he’s lucky you’re both too entangled to notice, for words aren’t necessary right now; he’s ushering your wine glass out of your hand, setting his, too, onto the table so you can wind your fingers in his hair and tug, prompting the sweetest gasps that you echo back into him while he guides your hips across him. The fervor either of you holds is indistinguishable from the other; you grind, he grips you, the harder he grips you the harder you grind and vice versa until he’s biting down the column of your neck toward absolution. 

He mutters your name through an umph; you pick his lips back up the second he goes for air, and he goes for your tongue. When you pull back to observe him, mirroring you in kiss-puffiness and staccato breath, he’s wild between your eyes and your lips. 

“That’s all for you,” he tells you when he grabs your wrist and guides you to palm his cock before you hit him with another question for the ages—one that will not receive a verbal answer but a noise from his throat he swears he’s never heard himself make before.

“Wanna feel it?” 

God, has he ever wanted anything more in his life? The erection he’s built up just from kissing you, moving you against him, is all the evidence either of you need. 

Regardless, Osamu’s nodding fervently, chocolate locks swaying. 

So, you take your turn kissing down him until you’re pooled at his feet, between his knees, with devoted fingers undoing the button on his pants; the task at hand, so sweetly and circularly, has your tongue poking out in concentration as you work his waistband down. Osamu twitches at the sight—he doesn’t mean to mutter you’re so fucking adorable but he does, he does. It’s your turn to grin wickedly as you take his cock out, your turn to tease with your thumb on his drooling tip, your turn to explore with your mouth. 

You’ve had the reins all this time, really—from the first day you sat at your desk, making that attentive face. He must be the luckiest sucker in the world to have ended up here, with your shining eyes watching him fall apart as your honeyed lips guide him toward sweet devastation. 

The first stripe you lick up his underside sends Osamu’s head flying back, jaw falling slack on the end of a breathy “fuck!”

And he feels every stride of your tongue piercing when you wrap your lips around his tip and swirl. 

The sounds you draw from Osamu’s open mouth are like song; diligent in this task as you are every other one, it’s hardly a minute before he’s tangling his fingers in your hair, crooning your name between broken praises that come naturally as you hold him, lick him, look up at him with eyes that he thinks could turn him to stone—if only you had been evil, that is, but realistically, you can’t be anything other than an angel. 

“Pretty boy, you—” 

At that name, you groan. Take him further. 

And through how good it feels, he laughs. 

“Oh, you like that? Huh?” He could pull you off him if he wanted a response, but you’re too heavenly to interrupt—anyway, he already knows how you feel about pretty boy. 

You hum around him—another sensation that sends him reeling with oh, god on his lips. 

“That’s it… Feels s’good on me. Unh—yeah, like that…” 

Indirectivity and grandeur has always been something Osamu considers himself a professional in—everything you do throws him for a loop and the way you bob up and down does him no favors. He whines in the way he does when he’s already going to finish all too quickly, but the fact that it’s you bringing him to his end—his cute coworker he’s been pining after since your first day on the job, the one that’s inspired such foreign feelings of wonder in his long-gone-cold heart—has him unreservedly bucking his hips into your mouth as you rake your nails down his thighs, ardent in this undertaking, bobbing frantically like all you’ve ever wanted was to have him noisy and messy underneath you like this. 

“‘m gonna—oh, fuck!” 

But he doesn’t have to tell you; you feel him, spasming on your tongue against the otherworldly friction your jewelry provides—his true downfall, that thing, and the image of you formed around it—you pursue his climax like a predator pursuing prey, pulling away to give him that false sense of security as you rise to your feet, pounce back over him and kiss him so intensely while you handle him, jerk him to orgasm between your bodies; Osamu’s hoarse, aching as he humps the hole you make with your fist and chants yes, yes, yes, please! into your mouth, tasting metal, never wanting it to leave.

He settles into soft panting as you draw your fingers up; he’s beginning to speak— “You’re so—” but you’re cutting him off so he can suck your fingers, taste himself and the way you’ve shattered him so beautifully. And he does, he laps like a man possessed, obsessed with the flavor of himself if only it’s leaving your skin, before you let him continue. “You’re incredible. You and that piercing.” 

You huff out a laugh, but it’s true. He’s convinced you’re a dream in every sense of the word—how did he get so lucky, no—how did the earth get so lucky to have you dropped upon it, right here in Yokohama, doing such scandalous things with that godly mouth of yours? 

“I try,” you quip with a half-shrug, smiling softly, kissing him just so. 

“Do you, now?” Osamu Dazai, who so often loses those good things before he can really grasp them, takes note of another new sensation—unwavering resolve, in the amorous sense—and concludes that if he can help it, this dream will not slip away so quickly. He can’t possibly send you back up to heaven.

He grabs your hips, pulls you onto him. 

Everything you are—all hard working, handsome face, sweet disposition, and tongue ring—he’s wanted it for so long; it would be nonsensical, a tragedy, to let the same evening air you stumbled in on steal you away again.

This is a dilemma he doesn’t have a solution to; not immediately. 

But he speaks anyway, smirking and toying with the button on your pants, overwhelming your frame to put your back to the cushions—turn you into a mess for him.

“Your turn, pretty boy.” 

[thefirstlioveyou]

Mike's Core Fear - No, it isn't not being needed/loved, and no, he doesn't actually need El to need him

Disclaimer: this is technically a discussion on whether mike's Enneagram is type 6 or 2, but this is can still read as a general analysis on mike's actual driving fear. i've been stumped on which he is because of his whole thing with wanting to be needed by el, but still somehow matching entirely as a type 6. i realized while how it may seem his fear is not being needed... it's not the core fear driving mike's actions. also, i'm still learning about the enneagram. bare with me if i mess up or misunderstand something lol. and please correct me

Mike isn't a Type Two just because he wants to be needed by El. He just doesn't relate to any of the motivations of a Two. He isn't wanting or expecting appreciation for his efforts. He doesn't feel under appreciated. Even though he technically is, that isn't relevant to him here. He doesn't care about that. It's the exact opposite. Mike doesn't feel deserving. He feels like he does nothing. He feels inferior to El.

If he is not a Two, this means at his core, Mike's deepest fear isn't not being loved/needed like we've been thinking. Don't get me wrong, it is one of his wants (I mean.. Who doesn't want to be needed and loved?). It's something he canonically cares about... It's just not for the reason we've been thinking. It's not what he desires the most. It's not what he truly fears.

I think his core fear is something along the lines of abandonment/rejection and being without support/guidance, making him a Type Six.

i can't really articulate my explanation with all the terminology since i'm still learning more and more about enneagram typing. but I will try to make sense in my own way lol.

here are some quick things that show me mike's afraid of abandonment and to be without support/guidance:

- he is constantly losing will and el throughout the show in different ways, affecting him greatly every time. loss is already a consistent theme in his story.

- mike hides the real reason for his bruise from el, avoiding potential rejection or embarrassment. he doesn't want el to see him the way others do and essentially drive her away.

- before meeting will, he claims to have felt so scared and alone because he didn't have any friends and knew no one. fear went away once he did finally meet someone. not a lot of kids express feeling scared and alone with tears on the first day of school. scared, sure!! who isn't? but scared and alone? now that's another thing, especially just for the first day.

- one of his fears is revealed in dustin's book. he is scared of letting down the ones he loves. what happens when you let someone down? you're at risk of losing that person's respect, love, support, etc.

- will's "what if they don't like the truth?" resonates with mike. this is similar to the point above. mike is afraid to el the truth because he doesn't want to disappoint and let her down - he's at risk of losing her entirely.

- when mike tries to reach el in s2 on halloween through the walkie talkie, he talks about having a bad day and wishing she was there. he also reaches out again to her after having a bad dinner with his parents and being forced to donate his toys as a punishment. he doesn't specify that to her, but it becomes clear why he's trying to communicate to her. he's trying to cope with events in his own life.

- during mike's monologue, he admits he doesn't know how to live without el. hmmm.

that all being said... as you can probably tell, there's a specific pattern when it comes to el lol. i think it's safe to say:

mike doesn't need el to need him - he needs her.

why? well it makes perfect sense. el is his shield. she has protected him from the main thing that brought him trouble his whole life - his bullies (and the supernatural)

But, she is also the superhero he feels inferior to, the superhero he wishes he could be.. but instead is lois lane (actually, he feels even less than her).

season 1, el protects mike and saves him in multiple occasions from bullies. he is saved from getting ass beat by troy. he is saved from literal death. she saves the whole group as a whole in multiple occasions from the supernatural and government.

mike calls her a weapon. this is important because the only thing mike's seen her use her powers as defense at that point was to defend him from his bullies and when him and lucas were fighting. interesting huh?

Before we see her save him from bullies, we are introduced to the group's experience with bullying. we get a scene where mike is tripped and ends up with a scab on his chin, which he hides from her until she manages to get the truth out of him. She tells him she understands.

ALL THIS is why he keeps referring back to her powers and putting her on a pedestal. THIS is why he sees himself as lois lane and her as superman. Without her, he has no actual defense or "weapon." Without her, he would've died because of his bullies. He is projecting what he wishes he could be on her.

"You can fly." no?? she can make you fly, mike

This is one of the reasons why the cliff scene is SO important. Mike and Dustin are confronted with their bullies who are looking for revenge. The bullies threaten Mike. If he doesn't jump off the cliff, they will cut off Dustin's baby teeth. Mike is defenseless. He doesn't have powers. He can't fight someone who has a knife. His aim is shit enough. He can't do anything. He has to jump and throw away his life, ultimately letting the bullies win. With true bravery, he steps off the cliff for his friend. Gone. Oh wait. He's saved by a supernatural force. He doesn't actually fall to death - He flies his way back to the surface instead! Winning against the bullies... The bullies running away scared... Except... that was all of El's doings. Not his. She's the one who saved him and Dustin. Not him. She's the one who gets the praise, not him. Why would he? Over someone like that? Mike gets it. He's just as impressed.

Similar thing happens in the sauna test. While Mike is the only one with the courage to stop Billy from choking El, it still isn't enough. He once again has to be saved by her.

Notice how he doesn't even try to defend himself as Troy goes for him. He's still like he is in the sauna when Billy has him trapped.

He doesn't fight back. He may start the fight... But he never can finish it. It's either physically impossible or because of discouragement. But, that doesn't stop Mike from for some reason trying again. Still no good.

And even more to think about: He goes about how he thinks El doesn't need him anymore. But.. when has she even suggested to him that she needs him? Like, actually? He's literally just assuming that.

S1, before the trauma of losing her, he was genuinely just trying to help her because she actually did need help. S2, she's not even there. He's literally desperately trying to reach out to her without even hearing anything back from her. He's the one that needs her, not the other way around. S3, she literally basically says it to his face she doesn't need him. S4, el's actions to mike are closed off. she lied the entire time. it's not like she was begging for his help and for him the whole time?

We only ever see HER saving and protecting Mike, not the other way around. There is nothing for Mike to think she needs him. Therefore... This whole thing is just another case of mike projecting once again. Classic Michael! Also very much a Six thing - Projection of fears and insecurities.

Now that we got the whole Mike and El thing out of the way..

If he is a Two, and if he fears not being needed the most, and to be needed is *the* desire, where does the forced conformity part of his storyline even come from then?

Seeing him as a Six makes the forced conformity bit align far better than if he really is a Two.

Season 2. He is immediately confused by Lucas and Dustin's interest in Max. He doesn't understand their crushes the whole season and ends up pissed as hell by it. He refuses to let her in the Party and rejects her (something a type two would not do). In his eyes, she is ruining the structure of the group. Lucas and Dustin spend more time with her during Halloween and ruins his day, later complaining about it to El briefly on the walkie talkie.

He just can't understand their obsession with this girl. He is behind all of them, he feels.. at least based on the least possibly obvious blocking /s.

He's alone on this. They all agree on this except him. The structure of the group is falling apart due to crushes and girls when he obviously doesn't want them to go to the direction.

But by the end of the season, while sitting alone at the snowball as the rest of his friends dance with someone, this is where he finally decides to give in and join the rest in growing up and focus on girls. Mike doesn't want to be behind and alone, but he can't stop this change. They have to grow up. He chooses to stick to society's rules because that's the most secure way through. That's where his friends are, his source of support and guidance, so that's where he'll be.

He needs El because he needs the strength and protection she gives that he believes he doesn't have himself, which he must learn to conquer. He does not want to be left behind and therefore conforms to fit in with his friends, pushing aside all the things he really actually wants. Despite his overwhelming insecurities, he wants to be the paladin he is in DnD. He wants to lead a structured group to victory. He wants to lead his own life instead of following societal expectations, even if he's alone on it (which he won't be)

Mike is stuck with lots of fears and insecurities and is afraid of being without support or guidance. "I don't know how to live without you" tells you exactly what Mike needs to learn - How to live without someone like El who shields him. He must become a hero himself and must believe it is possible, regardless of what his little negative head tells him. He is meant to be Superman.

Mike is a six. End of the post.

(specifically 6w7 but not the argument here lol)

[yanderelovebites]

More isekai batsis because I love it so much.

So mine in particular doesn’t go by Y/n to the bat family since it is an isekai but when she’s by herself she will refer to herself as Y/n. Her Isekai name is Illia Birdges-Wayne.

I didn’t go too deep into the details of Damian’s obsession yet, just vague stuff so that’s what this post more or less is.

I’d like to say that Damian has a somewhat emotional-incest connection to her. He will not get physical as he’s been raised better, but there are signs-blatant signs I’ll add, that if they were not half-siblings he’d try. Once it’s obvious to Damian she understands he legitimately cares for her as I do feel Damian could tell her walls were still up, he’d be over the moon in his own lack of enthusiasm way.

When Damian and her start going to school together, it’s definitely more clear as well. Damian deals with her ‘friends’ at first to be close to her. He doesn’t like them and batsis isn’t truly friends with these ‘friends’ either. Their use is to keep her social standing up and Damian can see it.

While in a lot of fanfics Damian would egg the others on, as do they in turn, I don’t think Damian would exactly agree with any academic manipulation. If anything Damian thinks it’s the stupidest thing in the world because he doesn’t see it as just affecting her. As I’ve mentioned, he sees her friends as to keep a social standing. He sees them not as her friends, but pawns. As far as he’s concerned, her pawns are his too. So it legitimately upsets the little dude. I can just see the family trying to fuck with it and Tim back tracks because Damian put a venomous snake in his computer chair. They fuck off when it came to school after that because who wants to fuck with that.

Also this attempt would be without Bruce’s knowledge. He actually shuts Tim and Dick down on these attempts. Also scolds Damian in his perspective but it literally does nothing in regards of convincing him that his sister’s friends aren’t pawns.

He would tell his mom about her too. He won’t shut up, to the point she jokes about it sounding like he’s telling her his crush rather than a sister, but Damian disregards that statement.

If they were older, Damian is the brother who scared off any boyfriends since he’s always with her in public. If she somehow snuck it behind his back yes he’d be upset, but he would take it out on the partner. Now, Damian doesn’t worship her—even if he sometimes comes off like that.

These two would at some point using Arabic, Japanese, Korean, Irish and mandarin would make a code language that no one else in the house understands. At first Bruce thought it was just Arabic so he learns it and realizes it’s not just Arabic. So he figured out some of it is Japanese and mandarin, but can’t figure out what the other two are. It’s also the fact the two learned all of these, of course some they already knew, just so no one else could understand what the hell they were saying.

And just as he doesn’t want anyone dating her, he also gets offended when guys don’t won’t to. It’s even worse if they have an actual reason that doesn’t involve him. How dare they claim you’re too skinny? Too fat? The list could go on.

I can also imagine once Damian and her are comfortable enough, Damian would help “Illia” train in the martial arts she’s taking since Damian would have been trained in them from a far younger age. One day they come to dinner with bruises and gives everyone a panic attack and they’re like “What’s wrong? Damian was helping me train.” Followed by Damian complimenting an improvement but then going straight into what she needs to improve next.

He’s so damn attached. Sure he cares for the rest of the bat family but she has a different place in his life than them. They’re the people who mentor him, they’re the people he fights crime with—she is who he can go to and just be his age for damn once. They can only teach him how to be a Robin, her? She shows him what a Wayne is. There’s a difference whether they’d like to see it or not.

Next person I’ll get into (and how their obsession evolves) is Bruce. This is in order of who gets obsessive first to last btw.

[dresshistorynerd]

Saying "women should focus less on what men think about their clothing and more on what is comfortable" and then agree that niqab or similar Muslim dress is in fact inherently bad and anti-feminist is such a wild display of cognitive dissonance and disgusting Islamophobia.

Traditional Muslim clothing are perfectly tailored to the hot and dry conditions found in Arab countries. Both men and women have for the longest time worn loose light garments and head and face covering veils in extreme dry and hot desert climates. Protecting the skin from the sun is of extreme importance since the lack of clouds and shade otherwise lead to burned skin and eventually cancer. Therefore the skin needs to be covered outdoors entirely, often including the face. Abaya, the traditional loose robe worn by both men and women, is often dark in colour, dark blue or most often black, because dark pigments, especially black, block the sun's radiation much better, giving the garment better UV coverage. Covering the head from direct sunlight is also very important for avoiding sunstroke.

The second important function for clothing in desert is to protect from the heath. In the dry heath the air is very good insulator, so to avoid overheating in very high decrees the best strategy is to trap insulating air next to the skin with loose covering clothing, rather than let the hot outdoor air get to the skin. The fabric needs to be very light and breathable so the humidity from the skin gets to evaporate through the fabric and the skin and the air next to it are kept dry and insulative. That's why light cotton, for example cotton gauze, silk and wool (in colder regions, where in cold seasons the night temperatures drop very low) have been traditionally used.

It's ridiculous to claim any piece of clothing is inherently oppressive, much less a piece of clothing that has been used for thousands of years for very important practical reasons. Yes, theocratic and autocratic regimes do often enforce certain forms of dress as a form of control (as do repressive social structures but usually not by legal means), but the garments themselves are not the ones doing the oppressing, it's the people with power. It's the corset discourse all over again but even dumber and more vile.

In addition to the physical practicality and comfort traditional Arab dress brings in it's native climate, sociocultural and aesthetic comfort are not things that should be dismissed either. The forms of dress become cultural symbols that have purpose outside original physical needs they formed to answer. Even outside their place of origin, they keep tying the wearer into the roots that grow from that land. This is what bothered me about that original post - the dismissal of the aesthetic values. Dress is not just about practicality and comfort, it's the barrier between the body and the world, not just the bioclimactic world, but the sociocultural as well. It's a very direct form of communication. I don't like long skirts and loose pants with high waists just because they are very comfortable and practical, but also because I like the way they look and I like the way they make me look - they tell something about me.

It's honestly a little cowardly to claim your decisions in dress are only for purely practical reasons, because it's not true. I often hear men say this and usually the truth is they dress in aesthetics that signal practicality, weather it's actually the most practical thing to wear or not. Honestly the idea that caring about the aesthetics of your dress and what they communicate about is not feminist sounds pretty close to the sentiment "caring about your looks is feminine and vein and bad", not a very feminist sentiment. Everyone cares about what their dress looks like weather consciously or not and it's not vein or bad, it's called communication and self-expression. I of course agree that you shouldn't base your self-expression on what others think it should be or should not be, but it's impacted by how others will perceive it, that is unavoidable. What the aesthetics mean to us after all is informed by our cultural environment.

hate that the conversation around women’s clothing is always modesty vs immodesty, when these are male-created concepts. “oh that shows skin that’s what men want” “oh that hides skin that’s what men want” i don’t care. men want control. is it comfortable and is it practical? thick, dark, heavy fabric is not safe in hot weather, nor does it allow you to get vitamin d. inadequate coverage in the name of fashion is not safe in cold weather. i don’t care if this pleases men or pisses them off. if your mode of transport is foot, bike, or horse, pants are more practical. if your lifestyle asks for none of that, you may find a skirt more comfortable. many types of fashion force you to constantly monitor yourself — never comfortable or practical. clothing or shoes that damage your ribs, ankles, lungs — never comfortable or practical. i do not care what men want, nor do i care what men don’t want. comfortable. practical. we are animals.

[dresshistorynerd]

"Really wasn't saying much" is an interesting response to getting criticised for agreeing with intensely Islamophobic rant. If they weren't saying more than "I like long skirts, but they are impractical in the moors" (which is incorrect as a blanket statement as others pointed out) then perhaps they shouldn't have gone out of their way to agree with Islamophobia?

(For context I'm talking about this post.)

But as was pointed out by @/marzipanandminutiae this idea that skirts, even long ones, can only be comfortable and practical in very limited circumstances is false (point which the OP seemingly failed to understand). The OP said in the original post: "if your mode of transport is foot, bike, or horse, pants are more practical." So in addition to skirts being impractical in moors apparently skirts are also more impractical *checks notes* for walking. I can agree that pants are usually more practical for riding a bike, but most skirt are imo fine for biking, so sometimes when counting in the weather, the comfortability, etc. a skirt is the better and more practical option for me (it of course depends on what you find comfortable) even though I'm going to use a bike. But for walking? There's absolutely no reason why skirts would be inherently less practical for walking. Sure some skirts might be less practical than some pants, but also some pants would be less practical than some skirts. And when it comes to the moors? Skirt is again not inherently less practical. Even a long one. For most skirts you can easily raise the hem by folding some of it to the hip and securing it with a belt, technique which women, especially working women, (at least in Europe) have used thorough history.

You can't do that for pants. So pants would in fact more likely be impractical in the moors by getting their hems wet and stained by the grass. It's true that historically people of steppe environments have often used pants, but that's because in steppe environments horse riding has usually been so central to the culture. (Though horses were introduced outside Eurasia pretty late in the game, but still Eurasia does have pretty large part of the world's steppe areas.)

Historically pants have been used in extreme cold (trapping the air properly with skirt is not possible when you move around) and for horse riding. Without modern comforts you would think practicality was of utmost importance for the pre-modern humans, but pants were only popularized outside horse riding and extreme cold climates in the Early Modern Era (I go through that history in detail in this post). That's because the skirt is in fact the more practical garment in the vast majority of circumstances. Skirts have just gotten bad rep because they have become associated with womanhood, and women am I right??? Women simply can't be the ones used the more practical garment because as we all know women are irrational and vein and women be shopping you know?

In the Victorian Era upper class women used quite impractical dresses, as upper class people have always done (to show you are rich enough so you don't have to do physical labour), while upper class men wore less impractical pants (for reasons that are too complex to go into here, but shortly it was because modern masculinity was build up from romanization of a rural gentleman and a military man), so it was decided that skirts are simply less practical. Of course working women used practical skirts, but they didn't count. It was the mainstream Late Victorian feminists (not all feminists at the time agreed), who cemented this view on skirts, because they accepted the idea that skirts were simply less practical and that men's dress in general was just more rational, because men were more rational, so to free themselves from the confines of womanhood, women needed to stop being vein and adopt masculine dress, including pants. They ended up being very successful with their campaign and they managed to make it acceptable for women to wear pants. It was a legit great achievement, controlling what women can and can't wear is bad actually, but at the same time they conceded that femininity is irrational and skirts are impractical. Eventually the skirt was marginalized to a more formal dress status (which is usually by design impractical), which is why, even after all our feminist progress, the idea that skirt is impractical still persists.

[fallloverfic]

"Dear Castlevania fandom... Just because a man is pretty doesn't mean he's a bottom." - an ignoramus

I already wrote about this before, but if you're too foolish to realize you don't know off-hand why people make whichever character a top or bottom, please shut up. There's a lot of reasons people like Olrox as a bottom, and why I in particular wrote him as a bottom back in 2023, which have nothing to do with how pretty he is (but can include that, and there's no harm in that):

The idea of a human topping a vampire is fun (this was before season 2 released and we relied on season 1 alone: hi new people who showed up in 2025, season 1 came out in September 2023, you didn't start the fandom or the ship :D Welcome, hope you enjoy your stay, but stop being dickheads :D). The idea that Olrox is so intrigued by Mizrak that he allows Mizrak more control in the form of topping is fascinating

Olrox topping Mizrak just isn't as interesting, at least in humanoid form (but in his serpent form, that's more interesting). This had nothing to do with who was prettier, at least in my case. I tested out who I enjoyed doing what, and Olrox bottoming was more fun. So I wrote that.

Are you implying Mizrak isn't pretty for some reason? I mean he's buffer (slightly) but... hmm... Honey, he had me at the side cape.

The idea of a shorter man topping taller man is fun (Olrox is actually taller than Mizrak)

The idea of Olrox, a marginalized First Nation man whose people were genocided by members of Mizrak's religion, letting Mizrak top him is, well... interesting. That Olrox wants to be in a relationship with Mizrak at all (deeper than "oh he's hot, we should fuck"), as indicated by him clinging to Mizrak in S1E4, is a fascinating one. Giving someone like that any power over you, voluntarily (after all, Olrox is stronger than Mizrak, he doesn't have to allow Mizrak any control) is deeply intriguing. The concept of marginalized people who love people who are active in making them marginalized is a complex idea and I like biting into it in fic as a marginalized person who unfortunately does that.

Said clinging in S1E4 feels kind of like something a bottom would do? Obviously you can frame it any way you want, there's no actual "this is bottom behavior" label or whatever on it. But it kind of feels that way and it's fun to angle it that way.

Olrox sitting on Mizrak in S1E3 while clothed is so fun for him riding Mizrak headcanons. I'm sorry you're boring but I'm not.

If people want buff cute guy to top the slightly less buff pretty vampire, let them

You can still draw whatever conclusions you want from the final episode of season 2, but it very much feels like Mizrak is topping at least at some point in their relationship by now, and if people want to go with that, I say let them

The idea of a weaker/newer vampire topping a more powerful/older vampire is fun

Younger top/older bottom is popular

The potential idea that Mizrak is more powerful than Olrox expected + is topping him is fun

Switching is a thing

Certain dynamics are popular in fandom and people roll with them

Olrox topping has been popular in fandom since 2023. I know, I wrote it twice in 2023: Mizrox with Olrox topping, Olrox/Richter with Olrox topping. It's not radical to write, it's just what people enjoy doing for whatever reason. I didn't look at Olrox and Richter and score them on pretty points to see who got to top/bottom. I just didn't see them in that scenario with Richter topping. I imagined it, though. Just didn't get around to writing it as a fic.

I'm curious how precisely you make this stupid concept work with Adrian, who is also pretty lol Are Adrian and Olrox not allowed to fuck in any way where one is a bottom because they're both pretty lol (I made Olrox a bottom in that relationship, hate me if you must :3)

More to the point, people can do whatever they want. It's shipping. Play with your dolls how you want and let other people play with theirs how they wish. Block if it annoys you.

[gold-onthe-inside]

in the thousands

🥂clear the table, break out the champagne, cause your girl's finally hit a thousand followers 🥂

in honor of this milestone, i'm opening up requests for any and all major criminal minds characters. y'all can send any songs, lyrics, dialogue prompts, scenarios, tropes etc. and i'll do my best to write them as and when i can. under the cut, i've listed a few prompts y'all can send in with a character or write yourself and tag me in with an @ and #rucha's 1k event.

pick a love language, any love language:

acts of service

words of affirmation

quality time

physical touch

receiving/giving gifts

fluff the pillows

"did you eat today?"

"i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?"

"we could just stay like this, cuddling all day, if you want."

"i thought you wanted some space?" "i don't need space, i need you"

memorizing their coffee/tea order so you can buy it for them every morning

“tell me how you fell in love with me.” “…i literally told you that again yesterday—” “i don’t care, i wanna hear it again.”

picking up little quirks from each other over the years.

“you look so beautiful, baby.” “babe, i just woke up.” “you’re always beautiful even if you just woke up.”

"you snore. loudly." "i do not snore, you liar."

"i will love you in every universe."

hello, angst, my old friend

getting upset over cancelled plans and unanswered texts.

"i wish i loved you less."

"i'm done waiting for you."

"i lied to protect you." "no, you lied because it was easier than telling me the truth."

"it'd be so much easier if i could hate you."

regularly looking at their social media for updates

"i shouldn't have let this happen."

"stop looking at me." "i can't. and i don't think you want me to either."

"you knew. you knew i loved you and took full advantage of the fact that i'd do anything for you. and i knew that. i just kept at it hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."

"am i not enough for you to stay?"

behind closed doors minors dni beyond this point

body worshipping

close proximity

sleepy domestic sex

quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials

"hmm, you're not very patient, are you?"

praise kink

"you look good on your knees like this."

"i know you have one more for me. come on, i'm not done yet."

“we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready…” “i’m ready. and i trust you."

"i can’t stop myself from wanting you, no matter how much we both know we shouldn’t do this."

[aeliem]

I have like 15 different versions of their relationships in my head (especially killer & nightmare) (help)

also bonus thing

unhinged rambles under the cut

i added underfell sans cuz i associate him with the bad sanses for some reason (more than error anyway)

i think Red doesn't really belong here (in my head he is definitively part of this group, just compared to the others he hasn't done anything nearly as horrible as them) so he'd be very stressed out all the time about fitting in/not being thrown away i think in the beginning this would translate by him getting close to whoever is the most powerful, so at first Dust (because i hc he has the highest LV of all of them), then he'd see how fucking pathetic dust is and start seeing him less as an authority figure and more like a person (then feelings would blossom from their shared pathetic-ness etc etc) he'd turn to Nightmare next (cuz he is the leader of the group after all), and nightmare would try to help him not be anxious all the time but red's so terrified of being a burden he doesn't wanna ask for help, so nightmare has to slowly convince him he's worth something, and by the time red gets better BAM he's caught feeling i think Killer would just fuck with him a lot, then red would match his energy and they'd become best friends with benefits (maybe something romantic there but they would never admit it) (just bros being dudes) (they would be absolutely insufferable together) (imagine killer's chaotic energy but squared)

Killer and Nightmare's relationship(s) (yayy!)

so i have. at lot. and i mean a LOT of different versions of what their relationship could be in my head, some more toxic than others.

basically i think killer would gravitate towards nightmare, both because he's the one who got him out of his timeline, but also because he just got out of an extremely toxic friendship with the human and probably thinks it's gonna be the exact same. so no matter what nightmare's intentions are, killer is going to cling to him in a not so healthy way and treat him like the only thing that matters in the world

if nightmare's good: he tries with all his might to get killer to stop treating him like a god and start taking care of himself. nightmare gets very confused and frustrated when killer starts torturing and murdering people for him even when he isn't ordered to. also whenever nightmare gets exasperated, killer immediately backs down and shuts himself up, so nightmare would try as much as he can to not show signs of anger (or if he does, to convince killer that he's not going to hurt him). i think this would culminate in both of them having a long chat about chara and killer wanting to move on from them, and killer completely giving himself away to nightmare so they can work on this together, and so nightmare can force killer into getting better (im thinking something like TPE), until killer slowly starts rebuilding himself back up and manages to be his own person again

if nightmare sucks (cw for abuse): he will use killer's past to his own advantage, im thinking sometimes acting like chara on purpose (or even shape-shifting into them) to get him to do things, being extremely affectionate and giving killer the validation he craves, until he doesn't get what he wants and then starts threatening killer and accusing him of being a piece of shit, and generally holding what he did while with chara over his head. maybe nightmare genuinely loves killer in some way, and killer sees it as a sign of good will, like if he loves me it means he's doing this for my own good (he's not).

Dust i headcanon is a complete asshole (in several different ways but we'll get there). he thinks he's so much better than everyone else, and that he's a good murderer who killed for good reasons, while the others are horrible little freaks who like causing pain for its own sake.

first scenario i have is if Nightmare is an asshole to the others (doesn't have to be explicitly aggressive, just generally acts like he's better than them). dust would see this as a direct confirmation of his previous theory (everyone else is an asshole), and just try to piss nightmare off as much as possible. then he gets very surprised when either the rest of the gang joins in on the annoy nightmare competition, or nightmare vents out the newly created frustration not only on dust, but also on the other people in the group. this is basically dust gaining class awareness. he's in this shitty situation with the others, and they hate it at least as much as he does. they are not privileged, they aren't enjoying any of this. they probably also think everyone else here is a murderous asshole, which is why no one is actually talking to each other. this is when he starts actually trying to communicate with them. he probably sees they're much more similar to him than he first thought, even if they all went through different events, and he tries really hard to find common ground (at first with the intent to fight nightmare, but afterwards just because he genuinely likes them).

Killer is the hardest to get along with because he's very confrontational and the closest to dust's assumption about him, but after some time he really comes to like his spontaneity and the time they spend together. they both get very attached but never really admit it, until there's like one moment where they each see the other is a gay little shit who's in love with another version of himself (the derision helps them be vulnerable). so they finally become a couple but have a very irony poisoned way of talking about it.

Horror is more of a tricky case, it depends on a lot of things, but if nightmare doesn't try to help him (or makes things worse for him), he's probably very fucked up from the time he spent back home. this becomes immediately visible to dust once they actually start talking, and horror latches on to him as the only person that still has morals/is still trying to make things better for everyone. i think it would feed a lot into dust's savior complex, and while it doesn't allow him to have a genuinely close relationship with horror, this still makes dust the one person horror can rely on, and the one person helping him recover. i think it's only once horror gets more stable (and isn't as reliant on dust) that they can actually start to form a relationship (and horror turns out to be a smartass like killer, but less chaotic and more logical which dust is very much a fan of) then they all beat the shit out of nightmare for being an asshole (the end)

if Nightmare isn't an asshole, dust has a really hard time reconciling nightmare's actions towards him and the gang with his own worldview, so he tries to interact with nightmare as little as possible to not challenge it. he even tries to leave at one point, but going back somewhere with people he murdered over and over while they did nothing to deserve it doesn't feel very good, and he eventually chooses to stay so he can have horrible people around him to convince himself he's not that bad. i think it would be a slow process of dust seeing Nightmare genuinely try to help him despite his own problems, and killer & nightmare being in a healthy, non-murderous relationship. he would fall for nightmare first, but would mostly manifest it through his jealousy towards killer. Nightmare would see this and, thinking dust is self aware enough to understand his own feelings, talk with killer about dust, with killer eventually telling nightmare if he wants to get in bed with the guy who hates him, whatever, just don't start acting clueless when shit hits the fan. then nightmare gets a lot closer to dust seemingly out of nowhere, adding to his confusion, before they both finally talk about what they want and officially get together, with killer like "this went a lot better than i expected" with Killer, i think it's more of a "nightmare isn't here and i need anyone to rant about my problems to" type of situation, where once dust gets used to not being asocial, the days nightmare goes out for long periods of time become unbearable. at first they would kinda bond over their shared love of nightmare, but over time they would start actually getting interested in each other, with still a lot of animosity but also mutual interest and respect. (pretty much a classic enemies to lovers this one ngl)

Horror is... horror is weird for me? like i dont really know where to put him. i think i just have fanon horror and canon horror bouncing around in my head and they're just so contradictory idk what to think of him. i have 2 big stories with him, but in short:

either he's just.. not interested in romance at all (whether due to being aromantic or something else). maybe he does have some sort of deeper bond with Nightmare due to him being able to read his emotions, but generally he's just a friend to the others. i think he'd be pretty distant to the rest of the gang as being the only one without a high LV, so he doesn't really want to get to know them that much. this mostly happens if he still has his brother with him, or if he's moved on from his death by the time he joins nightmare's team (or is convinced his brother is gonna be completely fine back at home)

or: if he gets forcefully brought out of his timeline by nightmare, he's completely lost and starving and traumatized six ways from sunday, and at first he's completely unable to take care of himself now that his brother's gone. i think Dust would try to help him (because nightmare's certainly not going to), and horror would just latch on to him like a mussel to its rock. after he's recovered, they would stay close and would slowly fall in love, even if neither of them really want to put it into words. it's around that time he would get to actually know Killer (and how dust feels about him), then jealousy then the same affection dust has for him (mtt poly hell yeah!!!) idk how i would actually define horror's relationship with them (i would maybe say queerplatonic but again idk), just that they're extremely close with each other (again this is partially due to nightmare being an ass, this is why i'm hesitant to mark this as purely romantic when it feels both circumstantial and like they're more than boyfriends)

Cross is also weird, i don't think about him a lot but i think he's as cold-headed as dust and as diligent/efficient as killer, so i see him relating to these two the most. it's more that i see a lot of kross/criller on my dash and i really like their dynamic (especially Killer fucking with cross) also i love the idea of a cross who's trained as a soldier and a Nightmare who already has a gang of strong sanses defending him and doesn't need anyone else, but still lets cross in because he thinks he's cute. i imagine nightmare would still give him orders from time to time to make him feel useful, but it would quickly turn into a kink thing on cross's part, then nightmare would probably make it an official/explicit thing between the two of them. for the others (Dust & Red) i don't really have a specific idea in mind, i just really like dust&red as a duo and i think there's potential for very interesting dynamics with the three of them (also Cross Dust & Error, not romantic but like, platonically, is this anything??)

personally i dont think Error would be with anyone (except Ink but even then its not 'just' love, its more a cycle of truces and betrayals, and "you're the only person in the world who could understand me so i'll stay by your side as long as possible even if i know this won't last" kinda vibe) i think error's waayy too in his own head to notice the people around him, and i think if he were to live with nightmare and the others, he's just do his own thing in his corner and not really participate, he'd only stay with them as insurance so ink can't attack him (also he gets to piss him off by altering timelines but technically he doesn't destroy anything so ink still can't break their truce) the only exception to that would be Dust (most likely in the timelines/versions where dust hates nightmare and doesn't confide in him), where they both share this sense of being better than everyone else and being tasked with a purpose no one can do but them (for error it's cleaning out the multiverse, for dust it was killing the human and he's still somewhat attached to that), but i don't think they'd be romantic with each other, just friends (though maybe error would get more attached to him since he's so lonely, but even then this would be one-sided)

It’s time…

Be sure to be respectful and have fun! 🤗🤗🤗

My own insanity/filled out ones under the cut

HUGE HUGE HUGE FAN OF A LOT OF THE SHIPS INVOLVING THESE SCRIMBLOS!! Unfortunately, I haven’t seen too much Error around, so I don’t have too many ships with him haha (although I wanted to include him because sometimes, people consider him part of the bad sanses! Same with Cross for obvious reasons).

The second picture is essentially me showing the different mini polys I really like (the color is only to help differentiate them haha) (I didn’t wanna use the mini poly color from the first picture because it would’ve gotten way too cluttered lolol).

It should be seen/unspoken the fact that I already adore them all as one big poly (with or without error haha). They rattle in my brain so much and I love them dearly

[lyricalt]

fic_promptly - theme: sharing is caring

sniperspy - rated G - prompt: share your knowledge

+++

“Ten?” Sniper exclaims, surprising Spy into jolting from his papers. “As in, ten percent?”

Sniper holds up a paystub, pointing to a column of Spy’s bonus wages. 

Spy pauses. He snatches the slip from Sniper’s hand, annoyed that he’s somehow managed to steal it off his desk. Salaries aren’t exactly kept a secret, but like many a privatized business, RED doesn’t seem to promote the idea of having the other mercenaries share the details of their pay. Currently, Spy has no reason to pry, being quite satisfied with his own paychecks, and he already knows the BLU spy makes an identical amount, down to the decimal. 

For a brief moment, Spy struggles with his own need to be private and the temptation to spit in the face of any big corporation. In the end, the humble pro-union French spirit in him wins out.

“Yes. I receive a ten percent bonus off my base pay each time I successfully retrieve Intelligence,” he explains, watching as Sniper’s expression darkens. He sighs. “Oh, come now. It’s not that much more than what you ma—” 

“Only?” Sniper interrupts.

A lengthy silence fills the room.

Spy feels himself go very calm. “What do you mean ‘only’?” 

“Mate, they give me a twenty-five percent bump if I ever manage to grab that briefcase.” Sniper blinks, slow, digesting this new information along with Spy.

Spy assumes they’re both heading to the same conclusion. The cold and calculated part of him acknowledges that Sniper has less of a chance of successfully retrieving the briefcase, making it unlikely that he receives the bonus amount on a regular basis. You wouldn't pay a long range specialist the same rate as someone in espionage or scouting, after all. In fact, Spy only recalls Sniper having twice done it—both under highly unusual circumstances and a string of fuck ups on both the RED and BLU teams. Sniper had been rightfully gleeful, but Spy suddenly remembers the amount of expensive upgrades, fixes, and new knickknacks to Sniper’s camper and weaponry the following week. Not to mention the few fancy dinners he’s treated Spy to, but Spy had only amounted the splurge of funds to the price of courting someone as classy and refined as himself.

Spy stands up, nearly knocking over his chair, and starts rummaging through his files for the RED company handbook.

“Let me see your fucking contract,” he snarls at Sniper, tucking the book and several of his old paystubs under his arm.

Sniper is already headed out the door to his camper with Spy at his heels.

“Right. Okay. So I have an idea,” Sniper mentions, and Spy matches his steps so that he can listen.

+++

After one week, the two of them get called into Miss Pauling’s office.

“So, uh, yeah. I can’t let you two do this anymore,” she begins, leafing through the datasheets of their kill counts, assists, and briefcase acquisitions.

Sniper remains silent, a tactic that Spy can appreciate but not follow through himself. 

“Whatever do you mean?” he asks, very politely. 

Pauling heaves a sigh, setting the stack of papers down. She pushes her glasses up in a motion that matches the way she rolls her eyes hard.

“Oh, so you’re making me say it? Fine,” she says, unruffled. “Spy, you cannot steal BLU’s Intelligence and hand it over to Sniper at the last second so that Sniper can make the objective. And Sniper, you cannot split your bonus wages with Spy. Or anyone else for that matter. Did the two of you think no one would notice?”

Spy takes a brief drag from his cigarette. He genuinely dislikes making Miss Pauling’s job any more stressful but truth be told, she’s upper management, and therefore not really anyone to show mercy to.

“What’s stopping me from saying I dropped the briefcase on accident, and Sniper only did his due diligence and picked it up himself?”

“Well, for one, your smug expression-”

Spy fixes his face to look more demure and polite.

“-and two, RED’s not going to let you game the system. You get that, right? Consider this your first offense and verbal warning. After that, it’s a write up. Then disciplinary action, which would be up to the Administrator.” 

Sniper clicks his tongue. 

“So you’re sayin’ we’ve got one more go at this?” he asks, not even breaking into a victory grin.

Never once has Sniper sounded more attractive. If Spy could start furiously making out with him right then and there, he would. Unfortunately, he has to settle with looking neutral, keeping his eyes on Miss Pauling. 

At his questioning look, Pauling shuts her own eyes. She rubs her forehead. 

“I guess,” she replies, tired.

“Fantastic,” Spy says, his expression back to being smug. He reaches for the desk, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, and can’t help but take a sneaking glance at one of the datasheets for the total number of briefcases he’s managed to hand over to Sniper. Sniper’s upcoming paycheck seems to be in marvelous shape. He peers up at Pauling with the smallest of apologetic smirks. “You look like you want to dismiss us.”

“Yeah,” Pauling says, waving a hand as if to shoo them both away. “I’ll just get started on your write-ups. You know the amount of paperwork I already have to do for you guys? Endless.”

Sniper obediently stands from his chair and clears his throat. “Well, how about we nab a briefcase under your name and you’ll get a little gift of appreciation? Will that smooth things over?”

The scratching of Pauling’s pen doesn’t even hesitate.

“Do not make me open an attempt-at-bribery case with HR, Sniper,” she says, now thoroughly engrossed with paperwork. She doesn’t bother looking up to see Sniper wince. “You are one of the few mercenaries here with a clean record.”

“We’ve an HR department?” Spy asks, surprised, though he briefly throws Sniper a doubtful look as well. 

“Yeah, and that’s me,” Pauling says, meaningfully.

It’s a good enough cue as any to leave. Both Spy and Sniper exit as casually as they can, waiting until they are down three hallways to shake hands—though Spy does fall prey to his French pro-union spirit, and pulls Sniper in for a quick peck on the cheek. 

“Buy you dinner?” Sniper asks, who should, on top of throwing piss at people, absolutely have a long list of HR violations against him, inappropriate fraternizing included. 

“Buy me dinner,” Spy agrees. 

[celticcrossanon]

Hi Celta, Regarding the Wales backing out of BAFTA awards, I think it’s an indication of the direction they intend to take going forwards, less celebrity focus and more business based substantive engagements. Earlier in the week William will attend a meeting about the business aspect of BAFTA, and he’ll appear in a video package during the awards. I don’t get what people don’t understand about this.

The Wales went through a really horrendous year and the bots on X, courtesy and egged on by of Harry and Meghan and their squad, piled on with truly awful stories about them and their marriage, how he killed her, he killed her lover for getting her pregnant, they’re separated and divorced, he beat her so badly she was disfigured and needed surgery, she died, and they now have a clone, she was never ill with cancer. It just goes on and on. That’s bound to leave psychological scars. And not one of these so called celebrities celebrated at BAFTA came to their defence, not even his father’s palace, they kept quiet and let the awful rumours take over.

I think all of that in total made the Wales look at life and their roles in the BRF very differently. They’ve no interest in hob nobbing with celebrities. Last weekend C&C hosted an event for the upcoming glamour puss tour of Italy and some famous actors showed up, and they had Victoria and David Beckham over for dinner. When in the world was QEII ever hosting famous people unless it was state business??? This is yet another aspect in which William is so different from his father. Besides which I feel Harry and Meghan have already poisoned the celebrity well. For some reason I feel Tom Cruise is probably one of the truly famous people that William trusts. And he won’t parade that relationship for the cameras. Cruise is a true professional and he probably has proven himself to William in a personal capacity, that’s the only way you can gain William’s trust. He was truly there for him when he was at his lowest.

KP has already said they won’t be talking about Catherine’s clothing on upcoming events, I think they will be focusing on the people who actually do the work and less and less of the famous names. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if when William ascends, he hands off BAFTA to Edward and Sophie.

And as for those ‘fans’ saying that they need to do 200 to 300 engagements a year, give me a break. The nature of work has changed from the 1950s to 2025. So obviously their patronages will be different. It’s a whole new world, and I think we’ve established people don’t like change.

Hi AnonymousRetired,

I had no reaction to The Prince and Princess of Wales not going to the BAFTA awards other than thinking that they had somewhere else that they wanted to be at that time, and that Princess Catherine may have found attending the awards too exhausting this year. Other than that, as you have said, Prince William has paid the organisation a visit and recorded a message for the event, and that is fine by me. I don't get what people are upset about either. Prince William and Princess Catherine have said they intend to focus on their family and put them first, and that is fine by me. I would expect them to do more engagements etc next year but for this year I think they deserve to be left alone to recover from last year, especially as Princess Catherine is not fully recovered yet. If I see them at Trooping and Christmas I will be happy, and anything else is a bonus.

[dumblr-account]

The fandom making fun of Adrien not realizing Ladybug and Marinette are the same person but not doing the same to Marinette about Chat Noir and Adrien will always be hilarious to me for two reasons, one short and one long! The short reason is that we see in alternate timelines (and Kwamibuster) that Adrien is more likely to figure out Ladybug’s identity on his own, whereas Marinette always needs to see the transformation with her very eyes! The long reason is that Marinette has been closer to Adrien and Chat Noir for longer than Adrien has been to Marinette and Ladybug! Let me explain.

We know Ladybug and Chat Noir interact with each other on a regular basis, being superhero partners and all that. Combined with Maribug’s obsession with Adrien, this means Marinette should know a lot about Adrien and Chat Noir’s personalities and physiques, therefore making a connection! And yes, it is true that Adrien can act very different from Chat Noir, but you can see some of his cat boy attitude come out on multiple occasions, especially in Season One. And again, Marinette is OBSESSED with Adrien! She is always watching him, absorbing every minute detail about him, from his favorite macaron flavor to his entire schedule! So, if she fixates on Adrien on a daily basis, and she works with Chat Noir on a weekly basis at least, it really is a wonder she hasn’t figured it out yet! And yes, I know she has built up a perfect image of Adrien in her head and that’s why she hasn’t figured it out yet, but that doesn’t make her any less stupid than Adrien!

Speaking of which, let me get into why it’s perfectly understandable why Adrien hadn’t figured out the two identities, at least within the first few seasons. Yes, he interacts with Ladybug on the regular and is just as obsessed with her as Marinette is with Adrien (aside from for the complete lack of stalking on his part), but the same can’t be said in his interactions with Marinette! In Season One, almost all of the Adrienette has either been Marinette parasocially watching him while he only gets a brief glance of her at most, or he is casually interacting with her like he would with any other classmate! Heck, I didn’t even realize he considered her a friend instead of just an acquaintance until the Origins episodes! In Seasons Two, Three and Four, he starts interacting with her more, but he was usually preoccupied with other things as well! While many of Marinette’s plots in these seasons were focused on either being a superhero or getting with Adrien, his plots were either about his superhero life or his messed up home life! I’m not saying he didn’t care about Marinette at all, but I felt little difference between how he talked about her and how he’d talk about any of his other friends!

Of course, this logic is completely thrown out the window in Seasons Five and Six, but I completely stand by this for the first three seasons, and maybe the fourth one as well! This is probably going to be controversial, and I’m sure people can poke many holes in the statements I gave! I just want to defend my boy’s intelligence for once in his life! If you don’t agree with me, that’s fine. Just please be respectful about it. We Adrien stans don’t have much left in this cold and cruel world.

[doberbutts]

I understand why you don't want to get into the nuance of what privilege is and such but I have been aching to every time I pass by someone talking about this post.

And you know what! I don't feel bad linking it, because it's free! Available for free from the mouth of the woman who gave us the concept itself! And you can pay just $4 for the rest of the essay!

Specifically:

For this reason, the word “privilege” now seems to me misleading. We usually think of privilege as being a favored state, whether earned or conferred by birth or luck. Yes some of the conditions I have described here work to systematically over empower certain groups. Such privilege simply confers dominance because of one’s race or sex. I want, then, to distinguish between earned strength and unearned power conferred systemically. Power from unearned privilege can look like strength when it is in fact permission to escape or to dominate. But not all of the privileges on my list are inevitably damaging. Some, like the expectation that neighbors will be decent to you, or that your race will not count against you in court, should be the norm in a just society. Others, like the privilege to ignore less powerful people, distort the humanity of the holders as well as the ignored groups.

And

Difficulties and dangers surrounding the task of finding parallels are many. Since racism, sexism, and heterosexism are not the same, the advantaging associated with them should not be seen as the same. In addition, it is hard to disentangle aspects of unearned advantage which rest more on social class, economic class, race, religion, sex and ethnic identity than on other factors. Still, all of the oppressions are interlocking, as the Combahee River Collective Statement of 1977 continues to remind us eloquently.

And

One factor seems clear about all of the interlocking oppressions. They take both active forms which we can see and embedded forms which as a member of the dominant group one is taught not to see. In my class and place, I did not see myself as a racist because I was taught to recognize racism only in individual acts of meanness by members of my group, never in invisible systems conferring unsought racial dominance on my group from birth.

You see, it's very interesting to me as I'm sure you're tired of hearing by now, that we've got the theory directly from the people who have coined the words, and for some reason we have a serious, grievous misunderstanding on what the theory is talking about.

To put it bluntly, privilege is about material benefits for being a member of an empowered class, and not simply something that you possess due to your identity. This is not just my understanding but the direct words of the woman who coined the word "privilege" to be used to talk about this exact concept. To say that it is not is actively going against the theory that surrounds the concept in the first place.

As for whether or not trans men have male privilege- that entirely depends on the trans man in question, is highly conditional and individual, and relies on a significant amount of overlapping dynamics of various systems of oppression. I don't know that Julie (but Jack in his head) who looks identical to any other cis woman and moves through life this way has a demonstratable amount of male privilege. I do think perhaps Roger, who looks identical to any other cis man and moves through life this way, probably does as long as he keeps his mouth shut about certain things. I think the same system that harms Julie is the one that uplifts Roger. I think this system hurt Roger quite a bit when he was still going by Kendra. And I think this system turns on Roger the instant it smells blood in the water, and hurt him very badly the moment it gets the opportunity

In this essay, McIntosh goes on to list a number of privileges she as a white woman holds over any and all black people. She relates most to black women- unsurprising as she namedrops the Combahee River Collective and is working primarily through an anti-racist yet deeply feminist lens- but does mention at times how whiteness grants her a shield not shared by black men's own male privilege.

This is why I always ask- what are you (general) defining as privilege? Give me an example, and don't just say it's because the demographic exists or by definition of identity. Identity is not privilege. How the world treats you, how society is structured to either lift you up or grind you under the heel, and the relative safeties or dangers of your life are what privilege amounts to.

If you (general) don't want to hear it from me, you don't have to. But at least read the damn essay so I can stop saying "that's not what privilege means though" every time I read a take like this.

i’m not even gonna break this one down bc “male privilege isn’t a material benefit it’s just literally not being a woman” i think pretty much speaks for itself.

[proud-memer]

I have thoughts on some of the T3 designs (positive all around and some more than others) so I’m just gonna word vomit. This might not be the most coherent.

Yuno: she looks like T1 Mahiru. Like, she just straight up looks like Mahiru did during T1. The short hair is probably the most obvious part, but the outfit itself is also super similar. Both of them have a long dress that’s longer than the actual straight jacket looking thing. So we can see the bottom of the dress peeking out underneath. And the actual design of that dress/skirt is like… identical to Mahiru’s. The only difference is color but besides that, it looks like the same dress. Which is a fascinating way to express her grief. 0206 doomed yuri real I guess.

fuuta: less thoughts here than for Yuno. So he’s definitely been indoctrinated into Amane’s cult, which is definitely gonna make his VD and MV interesting. Also I’m so sorry but the thing he has over his eye is so silly to me. Like, I get it represents the cult but it looks really funny to me.

Muu: T3 really decided to go apeshit with the restraints on the T2 guilty verdicts, huh? Though I can’t help but wonder, how does she like… function in her day to day life in MILGRAM? The things on her feet make it look like she can’t walk well. Probably only able to walk on her tip-toes which while a darkly amusing mental image, feels super harsh. Then there’s her arms and hard that are just… look fully unusable. It looks like they’re tied in a way that she straight up cannot use her arms anymore. Then there’s barbed wire veil thing. Which like… besides the fact that I don’t see how the fuck that was put on her, how does she eat? Like, she cannot take it off by herself with her hands stuck like that, how does she get food in her mouth (actually how does she eat period without using her hands? Do one of the other prisoners feed her?) Although it is a really cool looking mourning veil.

Kazui: Depressed looking middle aged man with messy hair and notable facial hair. Smash, no further questions. But to be serious he really is not dealing with the survivor’s guilt, is he? He has noticeable eye bags, and his facial hair has grown past the well kept bit he just had on his chin in T1 and T2. Suffice to say, he hasn’t really been taking care of himself. Also, that bitter smile he has on his face really reminds me of that one shot from Cat when he has the cigarette near the end of the song. He looks close to losing it a little bit. I’m excited for his VD.

Amane: girl… who cut your bangs? No seriously, that’s the thing that stands out most to me. Like, yeah, sure, she’s gone full cult leader. Whatever. Who cut your fucking bangs. Like, who did this to her? I’m blaming Fuuta.

Mikoto: looks like a mess. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna fully have a breakdown when he remembers what happened. Maybe this way we’ll finally get context on what the fuck actually happened. Also, why does he have just… a singular shoe off. Like sir, I know you’re going through something but why only one? It’s just kinda funny to me for some reason.

Kotoko: Yet another case of super restraints. Still not sure how she’s moving around cause those braces on her legs are forcing them bent at all times. Also she (like Muu) is not using her arms. The muzzle is a cool touch given all the wolf imagery she has going on. I feel like even with all the restraints and the actual barrier, nothing is gonna stop this woman from trying to jump Es.

Es: I need them to go on strike. Them taking off the uniform as a symbolic rejection of MILGRAM itself is so cool. They should be allowed to cook Jackalope into a stew.