#i have to kill myself because he's not mine

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 16 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

A/N: Fair warning there might be a couple of typos and shit in this part because I’m too tired to proofread properly

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The door of the theater falls shut behind us with a loud bang and I can’t stop myself from flinching ever so slightly.

Sam squeezes my hand and I squeeze back, letting my eyes roam around the room.

Nothing’s changed since the last time we were here and I cringe once again at the sight of the mannequins on the stage dressed in the old Ghostface cloaks.

It’s eerily quiet, but the knowledge that backup is ready to jump in and help us when Kirby gives them a signal brings me some sense of peace.

When Sam and I came out of the bathroom earlier Bailey had left to go to the station which gave me the chance to pull Kirby aside and tell her about what we figured out while Sam distracted the others, especially Ethan who kept looking at me with his big doe eyes.

She believed me instantly and we quickly came to the conclusion that in order to end this we either have to kill Bailey, Quinn, and Ethan, or get a confession out of them, so they go to prison for the rest of their lives.

I opted for the latter because I’m sick of people dying, but we agreed that should anything go wrong, we will kill them.

We also agreed that the less people are involved the better, so Kirby called the hospital Anika is at and convinced them to call Mindy in Anika’s name, saying she wanted to see her girlfriend.

We tried to come up with a plan to get Chad out of the way as well, but nothing came to mind, which is why he’s here with us now.

Danny’s also here, but we left him outside under the guise of needing someone to call for help in case something goes wrong.

He doesn’t know that the FBI is already stationed nearby, waiting to be called in by Kirby.

Sam, Kirby, and I are the only ones who know and even though I wanted to tell Tara and Chad, I never got the chance because we were never alone.

At first, Danny and Ethan were with us, and then it was just Danny because I managed to prevent Ethan from getting on the same subway as us by shoving a stranger in his way.

I’m sure he’ll be here soon though, just like Bailey who’s in on the “plan”.

We told him we wanted to trap Ghostface and execute him which he immediately agreed to since he doesn’t know we know about him yet.

He was super supportive and even told us to use public transport to avoid getting targeted, and if I didn’t know better I would have actually believed that he was concerned.

I still don’t know why he, Quinn, and Ethan are doing all this, but I guess we’ll find out sooner.

“I cleared the whole place before you got here,” Kirby says, turning to face us. “This—“ she nods her head at the door we just came in through, “—is the only way in or out.”

“What about weapons?” Sam asks, her hand still in mine.

Tara is holding onto Chad’s arm, nodding along to what Sam just asked.

“One gun and I hold onto it,” Kirby lies. She slipped me a knife earlier when I told her about what we found out.

It’s tucked into the waistband of my pants, hidden by my sweater, and not even Sam knows about it.

I know right now would probably be a good time to come clean and tell Chad and Tara everything we know (and tell Sam about the knife), but we can’t be sure that this place isn’t bugged.

“I’m the only one with a badge, so that’s the way it’s going to be,” Kirby says when the others look at her in disbelief. “We’re safe here,” she adds and even though I know the FBI is on standby outside, I’m still not entirely convinced. There’s three Ghostfaces and four of us, and they’re all armed.

This is going to be fun. . .

I wish we’d had more time to plan, because this is all super reckless, but we can’t risk someone else getting hurt, so it will have to do.

The others look skeptical, too, but no one voices their concerns and a moment later Sam’s phone rings. She disconnects our hands and pulls it out of her pocket, her eyebrows furrowing when she sees that it’s Mindy who’s calling her.

She glances at me and I dip my chin, wordlessly telling her to answer it.

“Mindy? Hey, you okay?” she says. She walks off in search of better reception and I let her be, turning to Chad and Tara who are eyeing the glass display cases with disgust while Kirby makes her own way through the theater, looking at everything with her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sprout. . . Chad,” I say quietly, approaching them. They turn with furrowed eyebrows and smile weakly when they see me.

“Y/N.” Chad exhales sharply and I squeeze his arm reassuringly.

“You guys okay?” I ask.

Tara shakes her head and hugs me while Chad grimaces. “Not really,” she whispers. “I’m scared.”

I sigh and hold her closer. “Yeah, me too.”

“Same. . .” Chad watches us with a forlorn look and I chuckle softly before pulling him into the hug as well.

“You’ll be okay. Both of you, I promise.” I press a kiss to the top of Tara’s head and nudge Chad.

They both shudder and tighten the hug before my phone rings and I’m forced to pull away.

Dread settles in the pit of my stomach as I pull it out of my pocket, but then the sight of Paige’s name flashing across the screen makes me relax again.

It’s not Ghostface, Y/N. Calm down.

“Paige, hey. Everything okay? Are you in the city yet?”

Despite the situation, Paige laughs softly. “Yes, everything’s fine. I’m not in the city yet, I still have two hours to go. I’m just calling to tell you that the hospital called.”

The tentative smile that pulled at my lips just a second ago vanishes and I tighten my grip on the phone. “A-and?”

“Lee’s still in surgery, but he’s stable.”

Tears prick at my eyes and I spin around to avoid Tara’s and Chad’s concerned looks. “Okay, that’s good. That’s really good.”

I swallow thickly to get rid of the growing lump in my throat and Paige sighs on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, it is. . . so what about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but—“

The lights turn off and the call disconnects. A scream pierces through the silent theater and I whirl around.

Tara.

She and Chad seem to be unharmed, but they’re tripping over their feet, trying to get away from something, of rather, someone.

It’s hard to make out what’s happening in the dark, but even before a homemade Stab movie gets projected onto the white curtains that have been lowered in front of the stage, I know that Ghostface is here.

Baile, Ethan and Quinn are here, right now, and we didn’t see it coming.

How didn’t we know? There’s only one entrance and we would have heard them come in. Right?

But what if Kirby overlooked a different entrance? What if she didn’t search the place probably?

Speaking of Kirby, my blood runs cold when my eyes land on her. Her face is covered in blood, and it looks like her nose is broken, but what’s more important is the blood on her shirt from a stab wound in her stomach and the knife pressed against her neck by Ghostface, standing behind her.

Ethan or Quinn. . . Bailey is taller.

“Fuck.” I rush to pull Tara and Chad behind me, feeling anger rising in the pit of my stomach when Ghostface tilts his head mockingly.

This is not how this was supposed to go down. Kirby was supposed to stay hidden, she was supposed to observe and call for backup.

Movement out of the corner of my eye makes my heart skip a beat, but when I turn my head, there’s nothing there.

A second later though I feel a presence on my other side, and I whirl around, expecting another Ghostface, but it’s just Sam, wide-eyed and panting.

“They’re here,” she breathes, “They’re—“ she freezes when her eyes land on Kirby, “—Fuck.”

She grabs my arm, and together we shield Chad and Tara while Ghostface continues to watch us wordlessly.

Kirby is deathly still in his hold, despite the obvious pain she’s in because she knows that if she even attempts to reach for her gun or her radio, her throat will be slit.

Some blood is already trickling down her throat because of how hard Ghostface is pressing the knife against her skin, and I shiver, remembering how I was in that same position a year ago.

Every breath, every blink could be your last one, and it’s a horrifying experience.

This is definitely not how I thought this would go. Was I skeptical of our half-assed planned? Yes. Was I expecting it to go off the rails at some point? Also, yes, but I didn’t think shit would be hitting the fan this quickly.

Well, there’s no point in keeping my mouth shut any longer.

“Let her go, Ethan. She has nothing to do with this,” I say lowly. I know it’s him because Quinn is even shorter than her brother and she probably wouldn’t have had the strength to overwhelm Kirby.

Ghostface falters ever so slightly, obviously surprised that I know who’s under the mask, but he doesn’t move or say anything.

“What are you doing?” Tara hisses, tugging on the back of my sweater. “That’s not Ethan.”

Sam squeezes my arm, and I glance over my shoulder for a split second to meet Tara’s eyes. “Yes it is,” I say, forcing myself to sound calm. “He’s behind all of this with Quinn and Bailey.”

“What?” Chad lets out a surprised gasp.

Someone starts clapping slowly behind us and we all whirl around to see Bailey standing there next to another Ghostface.

He’s smiling menacingly and claps one more time before exhaling dramatically. “I knew you’d figure it out. I mean, the way you looked at me at the police station after the bodega. . . I knew you knew something was up.”

I narrow my eyes, but stay quiet.

There’s no way to get a confession out of all of them now, at least not one we can use against them in court because Kirby was supposed to record everything, so we’re moving on to plan b.

Kill them. Kill all of them. Make them pay for what they’ve done to Liam, Gale, Anika, and Brooks, and for how they tired to frame Sam for what happened im Woodsboro.

“Also, Ethan saw you talking to Kirby, so I knew we had to do something sooner rather than later to make you pay.”

“Make us pay?” Sam asks indignantly. “For what?!”

The homemade Stab movie still playing in the background flickers eerily, casting weird shadows over everyone’s face, but especially Bailey’s when it tightens in anger.

He pulls out his gun and waves it around. “For killing my son!”

“Your son?” Tara snaps over my shoulder.

“Yeah, he’s right there.” I gesture at the Ghostface still pressing a knife to Kirby’s neck.

Bailey snorts and the Ghostface next to him takes off his mask.

Quinn.

I knew it, and so did Sam, but Chad and Tara suck in a breath behind me.

Ethan takes off his mask as well, somehow managing to do it without letting go of Kirby.

“Not him!” Quinn snaps with wild eyes before pointing her knife at Sam. “You killed—“

The curly hair, the thick eyebrows. . . E.K. Ethan Kirsch.

“Richie. . .” I say through clenched teeth.

Sam’s hand around my upper arm tightens. “You’re Richie’s family?!”

Tara and Chad shift uncomfortably, but they don’t say a word.

Of course they’re Richie’s family. How did I not see that coming?

They want revenge for what Sam did to him and they started it all by spreading rumors about her online, so when they kill her, kill us, people will just suspect some rando who took matters into his own hands after he found out Sam was the “real” Ghostface.

How fucked up is that. . .

I glance at Kirby while Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn catch the others up on what I just figured out, and nod subtly when her fingers graze against the pocket of her leather jacket.

The radio. . . We need to call for backup. We need to get out of here.

There has to be a second exit we don’t know about because how else would Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn have gotten into the theater unnoticed.

My call with page was disconnected, probably because Bailey turned on some kind of signal jammer, which could mean the radio is also useless, but getting my hands on it and trying to call for back up is worth a try anyway.

I mean, don’t radios and cell phones operate on different frequencies?

All thoughts of frequencies are quickly forgotten when Bailey steps forward and holds out a weathered Ghostface mask.

“This is your father’s, Sam,” he says. “Quinn’s got Stu Macher’s and Ethan has Nacy Loomis’s, your grandmother’s. . .”

“It really runs in your fucking family, doesn’t it,” Ethan pipes up, and the way Sam’s breath hitches next to me makes me want to bash his head in.

This is exactly what she’s afraid of, being like them, and I just know it’s going to take a lot of therapy and a lot of pep talks to make her, once again, believe she really isn’t anything like them

Tara sniffles quietly, and I reach behind me to squeeze her hand when she holds onto the hem of my sweater.

“This is what we’ve been counting down to,” Bailey says, waving the mask around with the same crazy look in his eyes as Quinn. “I’m going to need you to put it on.”

Oh, hell no.

Sam breathes heavily, and for a split second I think she’s going to take it—she’s going to give them what they want after all, but then she lets go of my arm and smacks the mask out of Bailey’s hand.

“Fuck you!” she spits and her confidence fills me with so much pride that I don’t react fast enough when Quinn lunges forward, slicing Sam’s exposed upper arm with her knife.

She was wearing my zip up hoodie earlier, but it’s so hot in here she must have taken it off while on the phone with Mindy, leaving her in only her gray tank top.

Shit, Mindy. . . Why was she calling in the first place? Is she okay?

There’s no way to find out now, so I quickly pull Sam back against me, out of reach of Quinn while she presses a hand to the cut on her arm.

It’s only superficial, but it’s already bleeding pretty badly and it will definitely need stitches.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tara shouts, trying to step out from behind me, but Chad holds her back with an arm around her waist.

“You’re a killer, just like your father, Sam,” Bailey says, pointing an accusing finger at Sam and this time, unlike when Ethan opened his stupid mouth, I don’t hold back.

“No, she’s not you!” I snap, baring my teeth. With her free hand, Sam squeezes my arm around her middle, either to silently thank me for standing up for her or to get me to settle down.

“Yes, she is you motherfucker!” Quinn screams. “She killed Richie like the cold-blooded psycho that she is!”

That’s it!

I let go of Sam and rush forward to tackle Quinn, but Ethan is quick to react. He shoves Kirby aside and jumps in my way before I can get to his sister, stabbing me in the shoulder right below my collar bone—right below the scar on my neck where Amber stabbed me.

“Ah, you fucking little twig,” I exclaim, squaring my shoulders, ready to take him down instead when Sam pulls me back by the back of my sweater.

“No, run!” she shouts and I spin around, knowing she’s right.

Tara and Chad are already weaving through the glass cases, trying to get to the metal door we came in through and Sam and I follow them.

Quinn and Ethan are hot on our heels while Bailey shouts how he knew Sam had to die when he saw the pictures of what she did to Richie.

Everyone who had something to do with his death dies. . . Yeah, no thanks.

Amidst the chaos, the fact that we don’t have the key card to unlock the door dawns on me the moment we’re standing in front of it. Chad tries to pry it open, but it doesn’t budge and when Quinn and Ethan’s footsteps get louder behind us I exclaim, “Forget about it. We’re not getting out this way! There has to be another exit!”

“The roof!” Tara says. “I saw an exit sign leading to the roof behind the seats on the balcony overlooking the stage.”

The roof? Seriously? We’ll be trapped there, too, unless there’s a fire escape.

Anything’s better than this though, I think as Ethan and Quinn skirt around the corner.

“Okay, go left! There’s a staircase up to the balcony!” I shout and we start running again, abandoning the metal door, which could possibly still be our only way out.

Somewhere in the theater a shot gets fired, and I pray to God that Kirby is okay, but I don’t have time to dwell on it as we get to the staircase.

I yank on Sam’s arm and pull her in front of me, and usher her to follow Chad and Tara, but she stops when she notices me freezing on the bottom step.

“What are you doing? Come on!” Urgency seeps into her voice and she tries to drag me up the stairs, but I don’t move.

“No, get to the roof and get help, I’ll buy you some time,” I say, pulling out the knife Kirby gave me.

If Quinn and Ethan want to get to the others, they’ll have to go through me first.

Sam’s eyes widen when they land on the gleaming blade and she shakes her head adamantly. “Fuck no! I’ve left you behind twice now, I’m not doing it again!”

“Sam— I—“ I want to protest, but then Quinn appears with a lazy smile, dragging the blade of her knife along the wall, seemingly in no hurry to get to us any more.

No, no, no. Why’s she so calm. What’s going on?! Where’s Ethan?!

“Y/N!” Sam urges, which snaps me out of my thoughts.

Right. We’ve got to move, no matter how slow Quinn is walking, she’s going to get to us eventually if we don’t move.

“Shit. Yeah, okay! Go, go, go!” I follow Sam up the stairs, taking two of them at a time with my heart pounding in my ears until we get to the top.

Oh damn, we’re higher up than I expected.

It’s at least a ten foot drop from the balcony to the main floor of the theater, but that’s not what I’m worried about.

No, what I’m worried about is Ethan, who’s blocking our path to the roof because he somehow managed to climb the scaffolding connecting the balcony and the main floor to our right.

Tara and Chad are rooted to the ground, staring at him while he simply waves his knife mockingly.

“You really thought you guys could get away?” He laughs and I grab Sam’s hand and spin us around when I hear Quinn coming up the stairs behind us. “Yeah, no. You’re all going to die here tonight and pay for what you did to Richie.”

Tara whimpers and she and Chad take several steps back until their backs are pressed against Sam’s and mine.

The weight of Kirby’s knife in my hand, the one that isn’t holding Sam’s, does nothing to ground me.

We’re caged in and there’s nothing I can do without risking getting hurt because both Ethan and Quinn also have a knife.

“Richie deserved everything he got!” Sam spits next to me. “He was pathetic and killed innocent people just so he could make a new Stab movie! A fucking movie!”

“He loved those movies!” Quinn exclaims angrily and I can’t help but scowl at her.

“That doesn’t excuse what he did! How deluded are you to think that it’s okay to kill people just so you can make a movie?!”

“Shut up!” Ethan shouts and even though I can’t see him, I know he’s absolutely livid right now.

I don’t shut up though. Not only because I can’t stop myself from going on, but because I need to get him to snap and move so we can get to the roof.

“I mean, how fucked up is it that your dad brainwashed you into avenging your brother’s death? He’s a grown ass man and he’s using his kids to do his bidding. Really gets you thinking about who the favorite child is, or was in this case, doesn’t it?”

Quinn’s face contorts into a grimace of rage and I can see both her and Ethan lunging at us from miles away, so I act before they can.

I let go of Sam’s hand and pick up a discarded scaffolding pipe, shoving it into Chad’s hands before turning back around and kicking the side of Quinn’s knee when she comes at us.

She cries out in pain and goes down, and I spin around just in time to see Chad knocking the knife out of Ethan’s hand with the pipe.

“You piece of shit, you know nothing about us!” Ethan shouts, scrambling to pick the knife back up, but Chad is one step ahead of him.

He kicks the knife under the seats before stepping to the side so Tara can knee him in the face, knocking him out.

Yeah, get his ass, Sprout!

Quinn wails furiously and jumps to her feet, her rage obviously numbing the pain in her knee. She tightens the grip she has on her knife and lunges at Sam who raises her arms defensively.

“Oh no you don’t!” I growl, darting forward and catching her wrist mid-strike. I twist it so the knife is now pointing at her and watch in horror as she runs straight into it, stabbing herself in the throat because she can’t stop her advance in time.

Her eyes widen, and she chokes on her own blood for a moment before Sam kicks her in the stomach, forcing her to let go of the knife and fall backward.

She twitches helplessly, coughing and clawing at her own throat for what feels like hours before finally going deathly still.

“Good fucking riddance,” I spit and Sam nods, seemingly in a daze with her eyes trained on Quinn’s dead body until I grab her hand and pull her away. “Let’s go!”

Tara and Chad have already left and I can only hope that they made it to the roof okay. Where Kirby and Bailey are, I have no idea, but the theater’s been deathly quiet since that gunshots I heard earlier.

Please let that have been Kirby shooting Bailey and nod the other way around.

“We need to call for back—“ My words get stuck in my throat when Sam lets out a surprised cry behind me. Her hand lets go of mine and I hear her knife clatter against the ground before I whirl around to see that she’s tripped over something.

No, not something, someone. And that someone is Ethan who’s got his hand wrapped around her ankle.

“Son of a bitch!” Sam seethes and kicks him in the shoulder, which makes him let go of her, but when they both jump to their feet, my heart drops at the sight of him holding the knife she just dropped.

“You’re not going anywhere!” He slashes the knife through the air, missing Sam’s throat by an inch which makes me see red.

I yank Sam behind me, ignoring the way my back stings because of it, and tackle him.

He grunts when we go down and I feel him dragging the knife across my side, but all I can focus on is the sound of Sam’s voice, crying out my name, and the sensation of falling.

Falling, and falling, and falling.

“Y/N!”

I look up and it’s only when I see Sam bent over the railing of the balcony with a bewildered look in her eyes and an outstretched arm that I realize Ethan and I went overt the edge.

No. This was not supposed to happen.

I want to reach out and grab her hand, but it’s too late. I’m falling and before I know it, everything goes black.

I can’t have been out for too long, because when I come to again, everything is quiet.

There’s no shouting, there’s no police and I’m still in the theater, staring up at the blurry outline of the balcony and the dark ceiling.

Sam is nowhere in sight, but when I turn my head I see Ethan right next to me, sprawled on the ground amidst the glass shards of the display case he fell on.

Black dots are dancing in my vision, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I pass out again, but I know for a fact that he’s dead.

His neck is bent at an unnatural angle and his lifeless eyes are staring at me. His lips and chin are covered in blood from when Tara broke his nose with her knee and there are tiny glass shards sticking out of his cheek and forehead.

That’s two for two, I guess. . .

I avert my eyes and go to sit up to find Sam and the others, only to feel my heart drop when I find that I can’t move.

No. Not again.

I try again, willing every muscle in my body to help me sit up, but it doesn’t work.

All I can do is turn my head, and even that is difficult now that I think about it.

It’s like trying to run in a dream, and before I can stop it, a desperate whimper slips past my lips.

Not again. Please, not again.

The memory of Leroy’s face— the firefighter who pulled me out of my parents car after the accident— makes its way to the front of my mind and when I close my eyes I see his sparkling blue eyes above me.

No, not again. Not again. . .

“Y/N!”

My eyes fly open and I look up. Leroy’s blue eyes swim in and out of focus before they’re replaced by dark brown ones.

Sam.

She’s kneeling over me and has her hands on the side of my head.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. What did you do?!,” she whispers frantically, her eyes darting between mine.

I go to say something, but she shushes me by pressing a finger against my lips. “Don’t answer that. Save your strength. Just stay awake, okay, keep looking at me.”

I don’t know why’s she’s telling me to stay awake, but then I feel the almost irresistible pull of sleep tugging on my insides.

My eyes flutter, but I can’t in good conscience rest until I know it’s over— until I know that everyone’s okay.

“T-Tara. . . Chad,” I whisper, my eyes momentarily focusing on the pendant of Sam’s necklace. It twinkles in the low light and fills me with an indescribable warmth, knowing that she hasn’t taken the necklace off since I’ve given it to her. It also somehow chases away the panic that threatened to wash over me just a moment ago when I realized I couldn’t move.

“They’re okay,” Sam says, her voice breaking which makes me look at her again. Her eyes are filled with tears and her bottom lip is quivering the same way it did when I collapsed at the hospital a year ago. “They’re both okay. Kirby’s okay, too.”

I exhale shakily and blink back my own tears. “So, it’s over?”

Sam nods, running her thumbs over my cheek. “It is and help is on the way, so try to stay awake, okay? I know you’re tired, and you’re in a lot of pain because you took quite a fall, but you have to stay awake.“

“Quite a fall” feels like an understatement, but I don’t comment on it. I just shake my head and sigh quietly.

“‘M not in pain,” I slur, feeling my consciousness slipping away again.

It’s true, I’m not in pain. I just can’t move, but that’s okay because I know everyone else is okay. They’re all going to be okay, including Gale and Liam.

“What do you mean you’re not in pain? You just fell ten feet! How can you not be in pain?” Sam grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. I can’t feel it, but I see her doing it. I also see her furrowing her eyebrows when my hand stays limp before realization dawns on her.

“Y/N. . .” Tears roll down her face and I want nothing more but to reach up and wipe them away, but I can’t. “You’re— You’re—“

“‘S okay,” I whisper, trying my best to smile. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not, you’re not,” she hiccups and lets go of my hand again to cradle my head and the back of my neck just as my eyes begin to flutter. “Hey, keep your eyes open! You hear me, Y/N?! Keep your eyes open!”

But I’m so tired and she’s here. She’s finally here after everything that’s happened.

“Sam?”

Tara’s voice makes Sam look up and I take that as my chance to close my eyes.

Just for a little bit, I tell myself, but as soon as my eyes close, darkness washes over me.

“Y/N? Y/N!”

They’re all okay.

She’s here.

_______________________________________________

Before you come for me I just want to say that—spoiler alert—we’re going to be okay!

This part was a pain to write, but it’s done and I can rest now.

Only one more part to go!

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

[jewish-vents]

Just experienced antisemitism in public for the very first time in my life. I saw a post about a girl testifying against antisemitism and wanted to share mine, especially since i'm a French Jew too. This country is a nightmare for Jews and for the first time, I'm seriously considering moving out after I was verbally assaulted at my workplace yesterday. This past year I've been reading tons of posts and tweets about antisemitism and how much it impacts Jewish lives and I was horrified. But somehow I always was reassuring myself that nothing would be happening to me for some reason. I'm going trough it right now and I'm anxious, it made me question my whole opinion about Muslims/Arabs not gonna lie.

I just got a job in an airport and my company wants me to do some training and do some classes for the job. Everything was doing well, until the teacher asked each of us which countries we visited the past years. And since I've been to Israel and Dubai last year, I said it. I never meant to provoke or hurt anyone in the class. Immediately, a NorthAfrican/Arab guy in my class said "Israel is not a country, it's Palestine and it's occupied" I was like "??????" So I said gently and respectfully "No it's not, Israel is a beautiful country btw" and immediately this Arab guy said in a threatening manner, pointing his finger up "Be very careful of what you say, don't speak about Palestine. You're a Jew living in France this is not your land. Do you know supporting genocide and racism against Arabs is illegal in this country" (I live in PARIS btw) and I was like what on earth is going on... I was in shock this was pure antisemitism thrown in my face. I've never been racist against anyone, and I would never harm an Arab or a Muslim person just because they are. The f!ck.

I felt uneasy and not well, but the class went on, and the teacher was showing some pictures of products that are prohibited on plane and stuff. And the picture of a AK-47 showed up and the same Arab guy said "it's what the Palestinians used on october 7 al Hamdoulilah" I knew he was trying to provoke me and it worked. I gasped and told him "are you serious ?" Quickly, the teacher intervened to defend him saying "Palestinians are only using rocks, poor quality slingshots, they're defending themselves, he's right". I was boiling inside but I answered politely "They kidnapped and killed innocent people, it's not okay to defend a terror!st group in my opinion". And this Arab guy shouted so loud in the class saying "Stop trying to play the victim because you're Jewish!! there's no innocents in Israel! They tried to get their freedom back, they have an October 7 everyday!" - I was in shock. Not only he felt comfortable pointing out I was Jewish in a very negative manner ("playing the victim") but he was expressing freely his antisemitism in the class in front of everyone and the teacher included, justifying a terror act and no one opened their mouths. In fact some girls in the class were enjoying the "drama" and laughing.

It didn't stopped. Later in the class, the teacher was explaining how to help passengers in an airport, etc, and another one (Muslim guy) said "I don't care. If I meet French passengers trying to go to Israel in the airport, I will give them false informations, I will do everything in my power to stress them out and make them miss their flight, I hate THEM so much". When he said "THEM", I immediately understood he meant Jews, French Jews. And the teacher didn't said a thing, instead smiled. Just a bunch of people in the class simply admitting being ready to discriminate/threatens any average Israeli citizen/Jewish life, because of antisemitism. So scary. The situation was out of control. All because I said I visited Israel to answer the tutor questions regarding traveling. I realized how much you can be in danger just by mentioning Israel and I admit I regretted saying it. Would they have reacted the same if I told them I had visited Iran who makes women lives a living hell ? Or Afghanistan ? Or Syria ? Of course not.

I realized at that moment how much the pro-Palestine propaganda brainwashed them to the point they can no longer hide their antisemitism it in real life and think it's completely normal. How much can they hate a country they never visited ? People they never met ?

I couldn't wait until the class was finished. I was so angry at myself for not standing up more for Israel and exposing their antisemitism but I was scared for myself at the end, I don't want any problems. I just hate those classes right now and can't imagine having to support these coworkers, I get so much anxiety. I'm sorry but I just hate Arab/Muslims antisemitism. They are the first to point out islamophobia (rightfully) but then be vicious antisemites. Besides, the muslim men in the class made me uneasy. They felt superior to me because I was a Jewish AND a girl, and imposing their views on everyone. I'm even thinking of stopping the classes.. Just disgusting. I hate this feeling and I don't wanna feel like this forever. Why does it had to happen to me, I've never been hateful to anyone :(

I'm so sorry this happened to you Anon. I'd have been terrified too. You should reach out to HR or whatever similar entity you have there. I hope you stay safe, sending you so much love

-🐺

[teddywesworl]

different anon but re: sex scenes ask, i’m curious to see how you lay out things to outline for continuity of characterization, and what the drive and stakes are in a scene to avoid the sexual archetypes. would you mind sharing what that process looks like for you? really admire your technical breakdowns of writing (yes even and especially when they end up being ‘controversial’)

ok so. I had to take this ask to a word doc to get all my thoughts in order, so that’s your fair warning about how involved my answer is going to be.

First off, I gotta say I always think it’s funny and strange which “takes” of mine get people in a twist, because it’s very frequently the really basic foundational stuff that you would be taught in the first week or two of any introductory fiction writing class. One time, multiple people blocked me on twitter for saying that every paragraph should serve the whole and that readers will get bored if you go on tangents that have nothing to do with the core drive of the story. There was a qrt with the ‘no fun allowed’ robot. I was basically explaining what “kill your darlings” actually means, but even that was too much.

That said, I think the key to continuity of character in sex scenes is very simple: treat sex as any other action, and treat sex scenes like any other scene.

Naturally, that’s easier said than done, because it contains within itself a pair of mandates:

Get your character fundamentals down before attempting to apply them to sex, and

Deconstruct your own relationship with DHSM archetypes.

Yes, sorry, the almost three hour long Contrapoints Twilight video really is the best framework I’ve ever encountered for breaking down cultural norms concerning sex in fiction (and irl tbh), and I think it’s required viewing for anyone who really wants to deliberately subvert those norms.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Step one: character fundamentals.

In the simplest possible terms, good smut is character work. You’re taking blorbo and putting them in a situation. Often, this is a deeply vulnerable situation wrapped up in a lot of emotions. What kind of emotions are they feeling? Do they feel vulnerable? How do they respond to that vulnerability? Are the blorbos boning out of love? Affection? Frustration? Fear of loss? Is it a hatefuck? Multiple of the above? That’s layer one.

Next layer down: are both (or however many) parties here for the same reason, or are their motivations and experiences different? Everyone in a story has their own drives which may be in conflict with one another or, at the very least, play off of one another in interesting ways; the same principle should apply to sex scenes.

Example.

This is from chapter 2 of baseless fabric:

Rook’s fingers bury themselves in Lucanis’s hair, her nails scraping his scalp. “I’ll show you,” she says, and then—oh, yes—tongues and teeth and spit! Rook’s arms around Lucanis’s neck. Arching backs and sweet sighs and a pleasure that fogs Lucanis’s mind. Rook pulls at Lucanis, and Lucanis tries to keep his hips away. He is embarrassed at how quickly he has grown hard; he is alarmed that he could be so forward, so presumptuous as to expose himself in this way and to seek this kind of pleasure in her. Why? asks Spite. It is for her. She came to you for this. Lucanis struggles against this reasoning, though he knows that Spite is correct. That strange despair deep within grows fat on this knowledge. He is still afraid, and it was such long and difficult work to accept that he would never be desired in this way by a person he desired in turn.

Three parties are involved in this scene: Spite, Lucanis, and Rook.

Spite has no sexual attraction or sex drive per se, because he is a non-corporeal entity to whom those concepts are kind of alien, but he enjoys physical pleasure and has an emotional attachment to both Lucanis and Rook, so there’s no reason to believe he wouldn’t enjoy sex. He experiences everything Lucanis’s body does, and he has a front row seat to the inner workings of Lucanis’s fucked up little brain. In the video game as written, one could argue that Spite’s core drive is essentially to help Lucanis first survive and then recover from extraordinary trauma (out of. Spite. literally). He picks apart Lucanis’s fear and self-hatred and exposes all of it to Rook, in full confidence that Rook can fix it.

Lucanis, meanwhile, is a big ol’ demi virgin who (I was just talking w @ofcrowsanddragons about this last night) has come to view his own basic human needs as monstrous. It’s dangerous for him to need anything. Even sleep! He’s had both physical and emotional vulnerability drilled out of him from a very young age! He can’t let anyone know he needs! What if his needs are exploited? What if someone notices he needs something and takes advantage? For Lucanis, I imagine that allowing himself to be vulnerable in a safe, controlled way that feels good, with someone he trusts entirely, would be… woof. Very intense.

Rook is the wild card in terms of fanfic and character study, because, as a customizable PC, she could be anything. And she might be physically undescribed in my fics, but the character choices I’ve made aren’t by mistake; I’m writing about The Lucanis Romance, after all, and that provides opportunities for Rook to play both partner and foil. And so: my Rook is sexually experienced, shameless, and a bit vulgar, and she grew up poor. She’s Lucanis’s opposite in a lot of ways, and she serves to highlight his hangups by contrast. He talks down at himself for “seeking pleasure in her,” while her desire for him is uncomplicated. She wants this guy. She cares for him. It feels good when he touches her. On its own, maybe that’s not super interesting fodder for fiction, but she and Spite force Lucanis to reckon with his irrational self-talk and maladaptive coping mechanisms. She can get away with being a bit two-dimensional, because her main function in the story is to challenge his perspective.

The climax (lol) of the fic is arguably the following line in chapter 3: “The despair of fulfillment, the anguish of joy—he thinks he is not made for such things, and so he fights them, even desperate as he is to submit.” Everything in this first encounter between Lucanis and Rook builds toward that final evolution of the idea that Lucanis fears his own emotional needs and resists their fulfillment.

Et voila: Lucanis’s character is examined and has the opportunity to develop through sex!

Still, I admit, all of this is easier said than done. Character study of any kind takes practice to get a feel for, and writing effective character-driven sex requires that you be aware of your own relationship with culturally imposed norms.

Step two: becoming an archetype understander

Watch the Contrapoints video if you haven’t. Yes, in full. I promise it’s worth it. But if you want to save it for later and keep reading this post now, DHSM stands for Default Heterosexual Sado-Masochism, and it’s an extremely useful framework for understanding how patriarchal romantic and sexual roles are organized.

Natalie Wynn defines DHSM as “a division of sexuality into bipolar roles,” as follows:

She goes on: “In reality, none of these roles are interchangeable or even necessarily correlated. Being masculine does not imply being a top, and neither imply being dominant. […] But in DHSM, these roles are assumed to be bundled together and assumed to belong to the sexuality of men.”

I contend that when we are reading E-rated fanfiction and we cross that jarring threshold from in-character plot to out-of-character smut, we have most often just encountered the author deferring to cultural sex scene-writing norms prescribed by DHSM. And, importantly, the sex scene doesn’t have to be heterosexual for DHSM to be in the room!

One of the most important things you can do as you’re writing sex is to ensure that you are aware of the cultural pressure to conform to this false dichotomy.  Notice I didn’t even say ‘don’t conform;’ there are certainly ways to examine & play with DHSM while nominally conforming to it. However, DHSM is omnipresent as a basic assumption in mainstream romance and romantic subplot, and you may be surprised at the extent to which the average person automatically reaches for it while writing. In fact, once you start seeing it, you may not be able to stop.

One of the things I really like about Lucanis as a character is his relationship to DHSM. He’s an assassin, arguably a professional predator. He is extremely rich, and he ends the story with a nation-shaping amount of political power. He is also, quite literally, possessed. His whole personal arc is about his fraught relationship with agency. His romance arc requires that you, the player, pursue him to a much more dramatic degree than any of the other companions, just to get to the point of acknowledged flirtation. He breaks the assumed role. He looks like the Latin Lover trope sprouted wings; but that’s not him.

This is, frankly, why a large proportion of the Rookanis ao3 tag bums me out: there’s so much fic in there that pulls back toward that assumption of bipolarity, flattening him as a result. Lucanis as an aggressive or dominant lover does nothing for me, because I feel that it misunderstands his approach to intimacy.

Now what?

I’ve just said an embarrassing number of words about writing pornography. But how does one synthesize all this stuff?

Here’s an exercise I recommend:

Pick a pairing of your choice and consider each character’s relationship with the DHSM dichotomy. Deliberately run down those columns above and decide which character more closely matches each descriptor in each pair, individually—if they match either, which they may not! Examine the ways in which that pairing might break bipolarity.

Then, try to come up with a sexual scenario that demonstrates that break in DHSM. This is a valuable exercise because it attacks both points simultaneously: it forces you to think of your character fundamentals, and it directly challenges the archetypes.

To use the same baseless fabric example, Rook is clearly the pursuer, but she’s got an exhibitionist streak, and she very much desires penetration:

She leans back, rests her weight on her hands, and deliberately opens the vee of her thighs. Her chemise drapes across them, and it hides very little. There is a shadow beneath, intensified by the flicker of the hearth, and Lucanis’s eye is drawn inexorably down—

Later in the same scene, Spite's POV refers to the act of penetrating Rook as surrender:

The body knows what to do. The instinct for it is ancient and innate, and the rhythm is made at the conjunction of Lucanis’s flesh and heart and mind. It is surrender, a hopeless exposure of underbelly and throat, and it feels good. Lucanis plants one hand on the table and rolls his hips.

Lucanis also acknowledges, multiple times, that he had his own preconceived notions about how sex is supposed to go, which Rook has challenged. For example:

Rook hums and smiles and closes the narrow gap between them. What begins as a simple press of lips develops into the luxuriant slide of tongues, Lucanis pushing the hem of her chemise up so he can bury his hand between her thighs. Rook hooks a knee over Lucanis’s hip and tugs him in until he acquiesces and thrusts into her. It is all slow and lazy. Soft. It feels the way Lucanis always thought it should, except in the ways he couldn’t have foreseen. His body aches from the violence of the previous day, and Rook’s must, as well; the pleasure cuts through the pain, colors it, transforms it into something almost sweet. Rook’s arms coil around him, and she makes the most beautiful little sounds.

(Uh oh, buddy! That's a little masochistic of you!)

If you are working deliberately to improve your character-driven sex scenes, I strongly recommend starting with short (up to like 3k words) ficlets as practice. Pick a trope or two to toss in for extra “put the blorbos in situations” sauce. Forced proximity! Drunken confessions! Hurt/comfort! Fuck or die! Etc. All great fun. Alternately, sometimes you will simply be possessed by the knowledge that certain characters will have certain kinks. Like Lucanis and somnophilia (you get it, right? I don’t even have to explain why. Isn’t that neat?).

As a side benefit, doing this exercise thoughtfully will make you better at character writing more generally. No, really. Spending this time analyzing characters’ relationships to intimacy will help you understand what makes them tick in so many other ways.

Let me sum up.

So, in summary: good smut is character work, and you need your character fundamentals first. However, cultural norms impose the division of sexuality into bipolar roles. Breaking that bipolarity subverts a subconscious expectation, adds tension and interest, and forces both writer and reader to really think about the characters in front of them.

Does that……. Does that answer your question about process?? I swear I didn’t start with the intent to write two thousand earth words about this. And also, I don’t typically sit down and think to myself “how will I break DHSM today?” I have enough practice at this point (and a deep enough obsession with the function of social power) that my disdain for DHSM automatically inserts itself into basically everything I write. I do think these two pieces (1. character first and 2. fuck DHSM) make up the foundation of how I approach smut, though, so hopefully this has been a useful response!!

[fairyk133]

Ruth Beautè’s Voice Lines [Remastered]/ Errands (Role In Game)

Name: Ruth Beautè Ruth Beau

Kissable? : No (but if you give her flowers, you can kiss her on the back of her hand)

Age: 15-16

Greetings/Bumped Into:

“Morning, Hopkins.”

‘“Howdy.”

“Good day”

“Um..hi?”

“What do you want?”

*Bumps into*

“Oh, my sincerest apologies.”

“Do watch were you are walking..”

“Argh— it’s fine, just watch it.”

Clique people/ or speaking about others in game mode:

“Some people say the most attractive greaser is Jonathan Vincent, but it’s obviously Ricky.”

“Each time that Martin girl dares speaks to me, I wanna kms. Honestly, does she have any real personality? Can’t blame her, she is kinda sad, then again I use her so I guess she’s not all bad.”

“That Harrington gets on my nerves, you know, he payed to win a mock trial session? What a fucking joke, I mean— if you suck at it, you suck at it. Must be hard having no talent or skill. What a dumb stereo typical blonde. Ha!”

“Hey, Gauntheir, wanna know what [block name] said about you?”

“Russell, that Ape? His parents are probably those flints stone people, have you heard him speak? How [R slur].”

“The greasers and the preps will fight? What is this? The outsiders again!?”

“Wiles is so…dead, s-she ruined my name, now boys glare at me…like I’m a whore, how can I be one? I haven’t even had sex yet-!?”

Talking about staff:

“Dr. Crabblesnitch is not fit to run this school, so I took it upon myself to…be his student advisor, meaning, I can tell him we need more clubs, he’ll do it, if I say a student did something, he will believe me. Amazing isn’t it?

“One time, Miss Danvers believed I had a crush on Crabblesnitch….all because I suck up to him. I think she’s on shrooms…”

“Mrs.Peabody allowed me to install new curtains, a vainity, and silk and satin sheets for my bed, for my dorm room. Being class respective certainly has its advantages.

“I told Mr. Burton about my shorts for soccer… saying I need a larger pair, but he says it’s not a big deal…that bald man knows nothing about my body, I don’t want the whole school go know.”

“That dingus Burton! Now everyone has been calling me RUTH BOOTAY! CURSE MY SOMALIAN GENES THIS IS RIDICULOUS!”

“Thanks to Wiles…I feel so dirty Joetta… is this how prostitutes feel after a long day at work?”

“Wait a minute….why am I moping? I can just do what I do best, ruin her life! Oh my gosh ahaHA!”

“I heard the jocks been taking steroids, I know they are but— I can’t snitch on them…Since Max takes them and I’m in his favor. Meaning I won’t be able to use him anymore…”

“Why yes, I am on good terms with all the prefects, they…also help me a lot….more than I need of course….”

“That Edna woman has to be a former convict…”

“Lucky me..I don’t eat her food, I always make mine when’s she out of the kitchen…that hefier can’t cook even if it was to save her self from a UTI…”

“Mista Max, I think I saw [Block name] have substances in their book bag, tell Crabblesnitch and expell that miscreant at once! Go! go!”

“You know…Justin, the Vandervale kid, was right…MONEY TALKS!”

Grooming:

“I don’t look like her…n-no I don’t..”

“Ha, what was Vendome talking about— me looking like Vivian…”

*Sighs* “I wish my hips weren’t so wide..”

“Sexy, as always.”

Being hit (Winning and Getting hurt):

“You’re so dead Hopkins!

“Don’t touch me again you fucking miscarriage looking bastard!”

*Looks around to see any Prefects, take out her rosary and uncaps the bottom, revealing a blade*

“I’m gonna kill you….”

(Can actually cut you and run to Prefect and tell that you tried to kill her fake crying. : Good chance you will be suspended)

“Now you’re crying? So fucking pathetic, good God.”

Random Quotes:

“I miss my Hadid…”

“So what if I ruined her social status, her skin, friend group, and probably made her wanna end it all? She did it first, so do it back to her, now she’s crying? What a waste of half good oxygen! Ugh!”

“You know..that Smith guy is actually kinda funny…”

“Parker is such a dork…and kinda sweet..”

“White trash!”

“You failed abortion!”

“No, Hopkins…you got me all wrong…I don’t wanna take over this school, doing that…is like being a zoo keeper. Why would I wanna be in control of a bunch of…slimy, insolent, animals!? Yeah no.”

“Hey get off of my friend, cocksucker!”

“Let me get help!”

“Oh you gave me flowers…sorry but I’m not kissing you on the mouth, I don’t know where your lips have been…”

“You may…kiss on my hand…” (She’s will rub her hands with head sanitizer afterwards when you walk away.)

Roles:

Pays player 85 dollars to plant drugs in someone’s car.

Pays you 50 dollars if you can give her back rosary Mandy stole from her.

When you investigate the Halloween party, and go in the woods you will see Ruth putting on her ghost face costume, get ready to scare Casey. You will hear a scream and run to it, you will have to help Casey who broken his leg, out of the ditch.

She comes to you when dates Gary and will give you hush money not to tell anyone.

[yandereunsolved]

do you think low honor john/jack would try to be more subtle with their perverted comments with a same gender presentation darling due to the time period? Or do at that point they just not give a shit. As seen with with the women in rdr1 they'll just say that shit broad daylight in public

I am loving these requests. 🙏

Y'all thinking up some good stuff.

Low Honor John is more subtle.

Low Honor Jack is just as perverted.

Now let me explain.

puts on my comically oversized trenchcoat and points at a whiteboard.

Men could get away with a lot more homoerotic behavior as long as they could defend to. (To an extent of course. But I feel like you get the point.)

Now Low Honor John doesn't want to mess with those societal lines. He's seen the things that happen to people who get called queers. And he's ready to kill anybody who tries anything. But he's also smart enough to know that scaring off his darling by killing a bunch of people isn't exactly a smart thing.

He's also likes being subtle. He likes riling his man/masc darling up. He likes being able to play coy and manipulate them. He's also a needy motherfucker.

(I'm a John Marston is needy truther. 🙏 He is starving for attention and love. He just doesn't show it because he was constantly shamed for it growing up in the environment that he did.)

So Low Honor John will shamelessly touch/grope his darling and then claim it's his darling's fault.

"You were lookin' at me like you wanted to start a fight. Had to make sure ya weren't packin' a secret weapon, sweets."

"Ohhhh, sorrryyyyyyy. You looked like a harlot with a warm hole I could stick myself into."

"Ah, ah, ah. Stay still. You'd hate it if I blew a fucking bullet in that pretty little head of yours."

(So much for not scaring off his darling.)

Also likes calling his darling more feminine pet names to degrade them and masc/andro pet names to praise them. (He's misogynistic to a certain extent. It's the early 1900s. Go figure.)

Now for his son. Jack Marston.

No matter how people have acted he has seen them get killed. So acting 'gay' shouldn't be weird to him. But once again, those societal norms make him homophobic. He's more internally homophobic in the way where he will be disgusted if he sees anything gay happening. He'll probably make a snide comment about seeing something gay happen - and he's get really defensive if someone calls him gay. But he isn't going to harm other gay/queer people. He thinks it's gross. He doesn't think he should hurt them because he thinks it's gross.

NOT that that makes his homophobia okay.

But you have to have this context in order to understand his homoerotic yandere feelings.

He's shamless but in a 'what? scoffs. I'm not fucking gay.' He feels that being perceived as anything but a cis straight man is a threat to him. So if you are a man/masc darling, don't point out he's being homoerotic. Otherwise you may end up getting punched and then kissed.

"I'm not fucking gay. As in homosexual." kisses you. "This doesn't make me gay. This is me making sure you know who you belong to."

I dunno. Kinda gay bro, but carry on ig.

So in general he is more openly perverted.

"Shouldn't call yourself a man. You should call yourself mine."

"I bet all the whores in this town are jealous of you. — How much can I getcha for?"

"I'm rock hard just looking at you."

And most people would think of it as Jack just harassing someone for the hell of it. Which doesn't help you. Because the societal norms are telling you that it's your fault he's doing this - you can't fight off another man? you a pansy?

Infact society says to you that you want this to happen.

[zephartchives]

Oh! I was not expecting anyone to wanna hear but thank you for taking an interest, my friend!! :D I don't think this will be considered 'references' per se, more like a nod/inspiration

So I made Zarael with the themes I love and thought why not add a nod to the characters I also love (Ado is not a character but I love the design of her mascot so!). It's a little struggle to pick which characters haha. I have many who unfortunately didn't make it to my vision But yeah! Here's a brief idea of what characters I placed in the blender. I did not include the inspiration for the personality because, well, the personality is just mine and my ideal but unapologetic and exaggerated my silly I never know what those spiky crown things are specifically called but I've always found attraction to that. Especially added that cuz' it looks like the Darkest Dungeon Insanity symbol and I wanna nod to the game too.

The Theme/Misc will make more sense for Item/Weapon and fight style since that's what I typically used that for. Mary (Ib) is there because of the Yellow Rose and I with the Item/Weapon, It hides an item that if you destroy would be the thing to kill off Zarael. As such, I reference Mr. La Manchaland (Limbus Company) with blood weapons. Zarael's Main magic is Shadow and Blood so! And Marceline (Adventure Time) and Mr. La Manchaland for being vampires, I really love vampires. 😭😭 Oh and for anyone who doesn't know, Zarael is indeed not an angel, He's more inspired by an Aswang so ig we can call him that. I just specifically wanted to make him look like an Angel and a Bird cuz' I love and see myself in winged creatures. And in Theme/Miscs, some of the characters there also has summons that are like an Orchestra or a Choir. That is something I'll implement with Zarael's abilities. Characters I forgot to add for this reason are Argalia (Library of Ruina) and Sunday (HSR) And Shadowmilk and Pure Vanilla cookie (Cookie run) for the ideas of Truth and Lies and I chose the title "White Lies and Dark Truth" cuz' of "One Sin and Hundreds of Good Deed" (Lobcorp) I think that's allll? There's definitely more that I feel is irrelevant to explain. I see the other sections don't need explanation other than "You who I love. Peak design" haha Thank you for listening!

"Not your angel - but I could be for an eye" My new Persona ✨✨ I love how I designed him. I made him with the many things I love in mind🖤

I could ramble on about the many references I put to him but I'm just embarrassed and cringe 😔😭

[bubbarnes]

“... it really is about lying to yourself and what you have to keep doing to maintain the lie.”

[patron-saint-of-lesbeans]

Please pray for all those going to the March for Life this week, that they put their trust in God and not in princes.

[kanjichris]

"why don't you want him to know how much you love him?" "that's a little personal. he knows." "uh-huh."

[rocicrew]

THE EXPANSE 6.04 REDOUBT

[mabaris]

maybe i’m stupid but why would lucanis poison a guy, draw attention to himself and point out that the guy was poisoned, lure the guy away with the promise of an antidote, actually cure him, and THEN stab him

girl, you could have just poisoned his wine and slipped out the back door, and literally no one would know. i thought you were supposed to be The Best at this

[todayisafridaynight]

plane scene is so funny cause why is mine a sleeper agent that wakes up whenever daigo is mentioned

can’t wait to see it in dragon engine :3

mine has been the winner for Funniest Character Imaginable for 15 consecutive years and i have yet to see anyone come close i fear

[iwoulddieforienzo]

Something that makes reading TOA so devastating is how fucking much Apollo feels about Everything. There’s so MUCH. Like I don’t even know how to describe it to you if you haven’t read the books yourself. He has so many complicated thoughts and emotions about just about everything and he cares about everything so much and there is just SO MUCH going on in his head. And yet none of it ever reaches his mouth!!

He almost never says what he’s feeling. What little comes out of his mouth about his thoughts barely even scratches the surface of what he actually means. Like he’ll be having a long ass monologue about how incredible someone is, showing a deep understanding of them as a person and empathizing with them so hard you’d almost think it’s projection but it’s not he’s legitimately just mind melding with this random person he met like a week ago and he’s thinking the softest, kindest thoughts about them like he knows they’re fucking incredible - and what comes out of his mouth is just like, “you’re a wonderful friend :)” AND ITS LIKE. THERES SO MUCH MORE UNDER THE SURFACE. the sheer admiration and adoration he has for everyone around him……… UGHHH!!! But he never VOICES ANY OF IT!!!!!! He never tells anyone about what Zeus did to him……. He never tells anyone except the reader about his realization that Zeus is abusive…. He never even tells commodus about how much he adored him, not then and not now… he refuses to tell anyone when he’s in pain or tries to justify the things he does when he actually had Decent Reasons for why he did something… I’m. I’M. AUGH. AHHHHH

HE DOESN’T EVEN TELL US ALL OF HIS THOUGHTS IS THE THING. THERES EVEN MORE THAT HE IS NOT TELLING US!!!!! THE FUCKING OCEAN OF FEELINGS AND THOUGHTS HE HAS ABOUT EVERYTHING IS THE CLIFF NOTES VERSION. I AM IN DISTRESS.

And YET…. Even what slips out of his mouth is so fucking devastating it is SO devastating. He’s so fucking kind and gentle with Harley and Meg and and other younger Demis and his kids… he’ll act like an obstinate idiot and then turn around say something that drags the core of the person he’s talking to into the light like nail on the fucking HEAD like he reached into their soul and gave them the words to express something that they were struggling to say aloud or that they didn’t even realize about themself. Around the 2nd book he starts putting voice to some of his feelings and thoughts about others and even that tiny fucking sliver is overwhelming to the people he’s talking to bc he’s SO. AUGHHHH

[chaotic-tired-bastard]

what are your opinions on zeisan (Sozin’s sister from the avatar board game)

I don't know her very well, as I haven't played the game and nor do I plan to, but I feel like she had a lot of missed potential. The writers used her as a cop-out for everything bad Sozin does, like why he outlawed homosexuality and why he killed the Air Nomads, and if you don't believe that, here's an article doing that exact thing. "Uhh, it wasn't because it was a good strategical move, but it was because his sister was in love with a girl Air Nomad!!! And he just hated her so much that he committed genocide and banned gay people!!! Because that makes sense, right?" I can kind of see him banning homosexuality because of her, but there would have to be another reason boosting it.

Instead of making her her own character, they just made her "Good, Calm Sozin" and Sozin's biggest hater, and then switched her over to The Fire Nation's biggest hater. I feel like it would have worked better if they leaned into Zeisan and Sozin's rivalry and the hatred that would have stemmed from it, making Zeisan's goals seem like it's for the good of the world but, at heart, being about her and Sozin and this eternal competition they've ended up in. I'm always going to favour complex sibling relationships over whatever Zeisan ended up doing, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.

[wildsaltair]

this is what is known as an unreasonably attractive man

[billpottsismygf]

I reblogged a post an hour ago saying my cat is very good at hunting moths and spiders and such, and that he may come from a line of mousers. During that time I could hear him playing with something in the hallway, which I assumed was a clip or peg or whatever. Guess who just found a very dead mouse.