#i post about food a lot i should make a tag at some point

[eye-in-hand]

Had a dream the bf told me to try my pears and honey on cottage cheese and so I did today and omg it's so good thanks dream bf

[eddiemunsonsmum]

Just saw this comment on a story posted a month ago.

*cries in Eddie Munson Solo Series no one wanted to read, interact with or request for*

No shade to the person that commented this on their own fic if you recognize it. It's not their fault. I'm not mad at them. More crying in the tags.

[medicinemane]

At least even when I was a teenager and identified as communist, I was still never a soviet apologist

(And as I got older I came to dislike the USSR more and more and more, also seeing that soviet apologism kinda tended to fuck things up for western communists cause they'd be so busy running defense for people who didn't like or care about them, that actually getting policies passed to help western workers came second to being a tankie)

(Straight up, while I was volunteering in Quebec, one of the people I stayed with had this book by her uncle about being a Canadian communist, and he basically pinned soviet apologism as the whole reason he left the party cause they were more interested is doing PR for the kremlin than they were interested in like... unionizing in Canada)

Anyway, tankies suck, soviet apologism suck, and I'm glad to be able to say that even when I was a communist I didn't fall into that trap... like thank fuck for that, you know?

[cera-writes]

your gambit fics are so good you write him amazingly 💕 gambit or magneto x reader fluff pls?

Merci, mon ami! <3 For real though, thank you that is such a great compliment!! I'll definitely write for both requests! Erik x Reader will be in a separate post. But I do plan on writing for him <3 Pairing: Remy "Gambit" LeBeau x Reader Prompt: Remy shows the reader how to make his famous creole gumbo and a confession with lots of fluff ensues tags: sfw, fluff, and Remy just being his lovable ragin' Cajun self.

"Let ol' Gambit show you how it's done."

You were busy prepping supper in the kitchen of the mansion, taking over dinner duties that afternoon. Thing was though, that you couldn't quite figure out just what you wanted to make.

You'd pulled out every cookbook Professor Xavier had stored in the kitchen but nothing was quite to your liking.

You flipped through the pages, eyes scanning over every recipe on every page but nothing spoke to you. You really just didn't know what you specifically had the taste for.

You sighed, growing frustrated with your lack of a decision for picking something to eat.

"Geez, this should not be that hard," you scolded yourself. "Screw it. I'm just gonna pop a frozen lasagna in the oven."

You had just opened the freezer and pulled out the frozen food and closed the door when you nearly had a heart attack seeing Gambit standing on the other side.

You nearly dropped the frozen lasagna before Remy grabbed it out of your hands.

Gambit took one look at the monstrocity you were about to make before tossing it back into the cold tundra. He then made a disgusted face.

"Gambit know you ain't about to cook that, petite!"

You folded your arms over your chest raising a brow at him. "You have any better ideas?" You asked, daring him to give you his suggestions.

"As a matter of fact I do, chere. Let ol' Gambit show you how it's done."

You watched as he started pulling out different types of ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator.

"Help Gambit out darlin' and grab that big pot out from over there," he pointed to one of the bottom cabinets that held all the cookware.

You huffed before doing just that as he laid out all the ingredients on the counter.

"Gambit gonna show you how to make his famous gumbo."

You had no objections. "Be my guest, monsieur."

He grinned at the use of your French vocabulary.

"It may take a while to cook but this'll have everybody comin' back for seconds," he smirked, grabbing a knife from the cutlery set.

He then motioned for you to stand in front of him, guiding the knife into your hand as he helped you chop some of the ingredients up.

Your back was pressed flush to his chest and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. It was no secret that the two of you had unspoken feelings towards each other. He always found ways to brush up against you or use some excuse to get close to you. Right now was no exception either.

"Just like that, chere..." Remy trailed off, helping you slice up the food and put it into the pot. He was so close to your ear that you felt his breath tickle the sensitive skin there. It made your heart rate quicken.

"You're doin' a mighty fine job of that," Gambit praised you, causing your cheeks to heat up. He then moved away, letting you catch your breath. He knew exactly how to rile you up. And it always seemed to work.

Soon, he had the pot boiling on the stove. "Now we let it simmer to perfection," he made a little chef's kiss motion, bringing his fingers to his lips. "But in the meantime, Gambit can find other ways to pass the time with you ma petite." He tossed you a playful wink.

His eyes then trailed over your frame, noticing what you were wearing. "Not gonna lie chere, you look delectable in an apron."

You rolled your eyes, not being able to hide your smile at his compliment. He was such a shameless flirt.

He moved closer to you again, wanting to just be near you. He loved your presence. You somehow always had a way of lighting up the room when you were around. He backed you up against the counter, placing his hands on either sides of you.

"You wanna know somethin' ma cherie?" His gaze lowered to yours, face just mere inches from kissing you. You swallowed hard, wondering what he was about to say.

"Gambit has, well, liked you for a while. And ain't referring to like in a friend sort of way. You do somethin to me and I need to show you what that means..."

He cupped a hand to your cheek, leaning in as his stubble brushed against the skin there. His lips melted into yours, causing sparks to fly in a figurative sense. You gasped softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him in closer to you.

Once you both finally pulled away for air, the pot had started boiling over.

"Merde!" Gambit cursed under his breath, reluctantly breaking away from you to tend to the food.

Once he got that settled, he immediately turned his attention back to you only to find you with your hands on your knees laughing at the whole situation. "What?" He smirked. "We almost let the food burn from makin' out."

"Exactly," you grinned, face flushed red with happiness and humor.

He couldn't help but sweep you off your feet this time as he sat you on the counter. He moved some stray hair from your face before he gazed into your eyes.

"I need to know if you feel the same for Gambit..." his voice was low and husky now and suddenly all seriousness returned back to your features as he trailed his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Do you even need to ask, Remy?"

You grabbed his shirt and crashed your lips into his this time. He kissed you back eagerly, until you both heard the sound of someone clearing their throat awkwardly.

You both turned to look and see Wolverine, Morph, Cyclops, and the rest of the X-Men standing at the entrance to the kitchen.

"Uh, It's dinner time. Or were we interrupting something else?" Cyclops raised a brow.

You both smiled sheepishly.

Remy scratched the back of his neck and smirked, "Dinner's ready," before giving you a wink as if to say we'll finish this later.

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 4/?

Sorry for the short chapter with the wait, but! This was supposed to be a 5+1 scenario thing, and I got all of the 5 scenarios finished (other than a grammar read through), so that means I have stuff that I can actually schedule posting :3 Next chapter on Sunday! (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn

Wordcount: 931

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

You shouldn’t have left as quickly as you did, you realize in hindsight.

You had gone there to talk, to make some sort of deal so you could minimize the side effects, and the amount spent with your soulmate. Instead of the universe letting you follow your plan, you found out you had another soulmate, fought him (for less than a minute), tore your stitches, and then got stitched up by your first soulmate.

It was a lot of things. 

Confusing, a mess, weird. 

So you panicked, and ran.

At least it seems they are managing to tame their bonds to you somewhat, as you no longer constantly feel their feelings in the back of your mind. You absentmindedly wonder if it’s easy for them, if they’ve had training with each other. How long have they been together even? You shook your head, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the bonds have turned to a low hum, almost like the noise of a fridge that you tune out as background noise, instead of everongoing chatter.

You are happy about that.

So you don’t seek them out again. 

You don’t want to. 

For as long as you can.

You know you will have to eventually, the side effects will not be pleasant.

But for now, you don’t want them near you.

However, it seems the universe has other plans for you.

Because of fucking course it does.

You meet Wade first, again. 

While working, again.

It’s only been a week, and though Evelyn had told you to rest, there is no rest for the wicked. Or something like that.

The job was supposed to be easy anyway.

Emphasis on supposed to.

Because the universe decides to send Wade your way.

Of fucking course.

It was just being a guard at some rich guy's house party, standing with another guard, keeping watch. Plenty of booze, food, drugs, women and men in skimpy clothing. So far it had gone well, the only thing you had had to do was turn down a few unwanted advantages from some of the aforementioned skimpily clothed people that had gotten terribly lost in their drunken and drugged state.

All you had done was go to the bathroom, checking on your bandages quickly and taking a piss.

When you return, it’s to find the other guard slumped against a wall. You swear, running over, checking for a pulse as you kneel down, gun now in hand. He’s breathing, you reach for your radio, but stop as you feel a gun pressed into the back of your skull.

Fuck.

“Should you even be working right now?”

Double fuck.

You turn around, the gun backs off just enough that it doesn’t brush your nose as you turn around. It follows you as you stand up, your own gun still in your hand, though you don’t aim it.

“Wade.” One of your soulmates- The man stands in front of you, dressed in a red suit like the first time you saw him, weapons and all. One of them currently pointing at you.

“Awwww, you remember my name!” The gun is aimed at your forehead. Around the muzzle it says “smile for the flash” in golden letters. You think you should feel some fear, but there’s none.

You lean forward, saying nothing while keeping a straight face, wondering if you will feel its cold kiss against the warm skin of your forehead. Before you can, Wade shifts the gun so it’s aiming at your shoulder instead, face still and unreadable to you behind his mask.

“You really should be resting, pookie, wounds like that don’t heal overnight, and even if you might get some of our healing eventually, we have not spent any time together for that to happen!” His tone is chipper, if a little strained. Your anger mixes with confusion, and though you want to ask what the fuck he means, you ask something completely different instead.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Now you can tell he’s pouting under the mask as you look him up and down.

“Boooo, keeping it professional. Oh well, I’ll get more of you later. I’m here to scare the ever living shit out of the shady guy that hired you, so he’ll cough up the fuck-ton of money he owes the shady people that hired me. Can’t kill him, but I can maim. And kill people in the way.” That last part is added as an afterthought, and if the universe was any part sane, you would feel a tinge of fear.

It’s not though, so all you feel is annoyance.

“God damn it Wade.” You rub your face, debating on shooting him just so he’ll do something about his own gun that’s still aimed at your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, a phrase loved by many. Oh, since I’m at work, it’s Deadpool. Sorry in advance.”

“Wha-” You don’t get to say anything more, as the butt of Wade’s gun connects with your head, and the world goes black.

—--

When you wake up, it’s to the fire alarm blaring and the sprinklers going, soaking everything and everyone..

Wade, or Deadpool, you guess, did not kill the guy he was after. He did maim him though (he is missing a leg now), and then seemingly for funises, set a vase of roses on fire in the guy’s bedroom. 

Because of this, your clothes are still soggy by the time you make it home, and you curse up a storm as you peel yourself out of them, a headache forming.

Fucking Deadpool.

Fucking Wade.

(Part 5)

[leighsartworks216]

Red String of Fate

Sylus x gn!Reader

Spent like an hour talking to my roommate in the middle of posting this. Not proofread (even tho I really should) Takes place in the Raven universe

Warnings: red string of fate, birthday, past trauma, past character death, fluff, kissing, crying, presents

Word Count: 3,082

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“You ask-”

“No, you-”

You snap your fingers. The loud click shuts up the twins in an instant and draws them from the shadows of the doorway into the room. They look decidedly anxious, midway between shoving each other forward. You raise a brow at them.

They look at each other. With a shared nod, they stand side by side in front of you. “When’s your birthday?” they both ask at once.

… Really? All that fuss just to ask when you were born? You give them an unimpressed stare. Interrupting your alone time was really worth this?

“It’s just that we-”

“Were wondering since Boss’s birthday is in April-”

“And if yours is before-”

“Or after-”

“His then we can start preparing right now!”

You tap your finger against the armrest. Your persistent silence unnerves them, even after you’ve been here for almost a year at this point. It’s nice, especially now that they’ve had time to adjust to it. It took a lot of confidence to ask you such a stupid question, after all. Too bad you don’t have any interest in answering.

You turn back to your book, signaling the end of the conversation. The twins look at each other, shrug, and leave. Once they’re safely past the open doorway and down the hall, you set your book down.

A birthday growing up sounded like some magical, wondrous event. Candy, games, cake, presents. How many nights had you dreamed of them? How many times had you seen a group of kids in cone hats in the park, parents trying to round them all up so they could blow out candles and dig into the carefully decorated cakes, with cursive writing on top wishing the special one a happy birthday?

The best you managed to scrounge up was when you were maybe 10 years old, give or take a few years. A new soup kitchen opened up. You lined up on the block with the other homeless, starving people of the city. The promise of hot food was always worth the pitying glances and disgusted glares.

When it was your turn in line, after waiting all morning until your legs were just about ready to give out, the person working there had dug through a crinkled brown paper bag to give you a squished brownie wrapped in cling film. That night, an older man you’d known well, had you blow out his lighter to make a wish. You’d split the brownie with him.

When he died less than a week later, something in you died with him. You hadn’t had a brownie since, or much else in the way of sweets, for that matter. As soon as the Devil picked you up into his business, they were off the table completely. The only real thing that improved was how frequent your meals were, without the anxiety of never eating again. But not the quantity; you had to stay thin for the stage.

You don’t even remember what day that soup kitchen opened. Well, there’s no reason to look into it now. Enough bad memories have been dredged up today.

Your phone buzzes with a message.

The twins are asking me when your birthday is. I assume they already tried asking you?

They left just a few minutes ago.

There’s no response for a minute, as if he knows he’s stepping on a thin line between things you do talk about and things you’ll never talk about.

Do you want to celebrate it?

You have to take a moment to think, to consider what he’s offering here.

You have no idea when your birthday is, and he probably gleaned as much. That’s not what he’s asking, though. If you could stare at a calendar, at every single day of the year all perfectly laid out, when would you pick to celebrate your life? It wouldn’t be a celebration of your birth, but it could be so much more. You’re not even sure what adults do for their birthdays, so separated from the concept that you stopped paying attention entirely. But you could choose to do anything - everything.

Your thumb hovers uncertainly over the digital keyboard, before finally typing out a message.

I think I would.

Just say when, sweetheart.

-

The second the twins are told your “birthday” is just a month away, on the day you agreed to work alongside Sylus, it’s all they seem to care about. Huddling together to excitedly whisper about it during missions, probing questions into what you like (mostly to Sylus, but sometimes they get so excited they ask you before realizing you won’t answer), hiding packages delivered to the mansion, and so on.

Sylus is much better about containing his excitement, if he is excited at all to celebrate your special day. He asks first if there’s anything special you’d like to do - dinner, shopping, traveling - you name it and he’s on it. When you admit that you have no idea what people do on their birthdays, he’s all too happy to list out things, without judgement. If he’s honest, he doesn’t do much to celebrate his own birthday either.

You think about the parties you watched as a kid. Piece by piece, you break it down into things you think you’d like.

First and foremost, you wouldn’t mind a cake or some other dessert. Sylus is right on it, suggesting that you both visit a cake shop to figure out what your preferences are before the twins go overboard with a flavor you don’t like. The owners think you’re planning for your wedding. Neither of you correct them.

Second, the games. Whether it’s Kitty Cards or Texas Hold ‘Em, you think it would be fun to play a game or two with Sylus and the twins. Gambling may or may not be involved.

Third, you remember one kid in your youth who was all dressed up in a suit by his parents, all to visit some cheap arcade. You would like to dress up. Sylus chuckles at this one, not because he thinks it’s silly, but because he’s always prepared to have a custom wardrobe built for you. He promises to have a tailor discuss your ideas with you.

As far as birthdays go, it’s nothing crazy outlandish like some of the things Sylus told you people do. At the end of the day, all you really want is to dress up, go to dinner with him (alone), come back to play games with the twins, and have cake. You don’t want the world in the palm of your hands, because you don’t need it. You’ve never wanted it.

Once your desires are laid out, Luke and Kieran calm down a bit. They’re no longer trying to plan this whole big bash, but scheming up ways to win the games against you and Boss, the notorious cheaters that they are. (They’ll never win, but they’re not going down without a fight.)

Mephisto spends the entire time leading up to the day gathering trinkets and withholding them from you. Usually, if he sees something shiny, he brings it straight to you for wordless praise and chin scratches. You know right away what he’s up to. You pretend not to notice for his sake.

Your outfit is ready in less than a week, the cake is baked with all the flavors you enjoyed at the shop, and you couldn’t be happier.

Sylus can’t tear his eyes off of you when you finally reveal your custom attire. Throughout the night, he can’t stop telling you how amazing you look, encouraging you to have more outfits made for future events. The restaurant he chose has a balcony that you two sit on, staring out over a stretch of beach. The ocean breeze carries the bite of salt, refreshing you for the rest of the night ahead.

You tell Luke and Kieran you’ll be home before midnight, but you drag Sylus out to the beach and get sidetracked. He can’t stop smiling as he holds your shoes and watches you run out into the shallow waves. The moon shines on the soft waves behind you, bathing you in an ethereal glow. By the time you do get back to the mansion, your hair is windswept and you have sand everywhere, but you don’t mind at all.

The games are so fun. Luke says you’re cheating by sitting in Sylus’s lap during Kitty Cards, but you gesture for him to sit on Kieran’s lap while he plays. Sylus doesn’t assist you in the game at all; Kieran points out moves and subtly switches the cards in Luke’s hand for the ones hidden up his sleeve. They don’t win a single game.

The cake is beautiful, decorated to perfection and topped with a few candles. You stare at the cursive on top for a moment. When they sing you the song (even Sylus), he notices the distance in your eyes. He kisses the top of your head when the song is over to snap you out of it. You don’t actually make a wish when you blow out the little, flickering flames. There’s nothing you want, and lingering too long trying to figure a wish out only draws the memories of the old man closer to the forefront of your mind.

You cut the first slice. Sylus cuts the rest. He’s not big on sweet things, but he finishes his thin slice anyway. You savor every bite. It’s paradise in your mouth. He has to cut off the twins from having any more, lest they make themselves sick.

Each of them has a present for you. Well, Mephisto has several. He flies to and fro for a while, bringing you little trinkets and shiny things that all pile up on the table. You take the time to look at and admire each one, even sorting them into different groups based on what they are. You wind up with a humorous amount of bottle caps.

Luke gets you a new pair of handguns. Kieran gets you a harness with holsters to hold them in on missions. Sylus gives you a photo album, full of photos from the year you’ve spent together. You sit pressed into his side on the couch and flip through it, page by page. You can see yourself relaxing with each picture. Just a few days after you start working with Sylus, you offer the camera a mischievous smile that doesn’t reflect in your eyes. In the last photo, from a few days ago, you look like a different person; you smile without fear, your guard is let down. The person you were at the gala a year ago has finally found someone to trust.

As the night comes to a close, the twins wish you happy birthday once more before heading off to bed. The mess is left for someone else to deal with. Your presents sit on the table and wait to be put away as Sylus leads you up to what’s become your shared bedroom.

You’re positively glowing. It’s all Sylus can think as you both lay perpendicular over the blankets. Your head rests on his stomach, his fingers trail slowly through your hair, and in just a few hours, the sun will be rising. Yet here you are, too happy to sleep just yet. You want to bask in this feeling a little longer.

You understand now why Luke and Kieran were so enthusiastic, why all those kids from your childhood couldn’t bear the thought of waiting another year for their next birthday, why adults continue to celebrate. You can’t remember the last time you felt a joy like this. It feels all bubbly in your chest, almost surreal, as memories of things that happened just hours ago draw out dopey smiles and lingering giggles. Sylus’s eyes are impossibly soft as he takes you in.

You’re still in the outfit you wore to dinner. He’s still in his suit, sans his jacket. Two pairs of shoes are kicked off carelessly beside the bed. Nothing else matters except right here, right now, soaking in the final vestiges of the night.

He brushes his thumb along your cheek, drawing your eyes to look up at him, that sweet grin still dancing on your face. His fingertips trail featherlight along your jaw, tracing your chin and brushing at your lips. You reach up to hold his hand in place as you kiss his fingers, eyes closing in bliss as you leave pecks down each one, only to leave a lingering kiss to his palm. You look back up at him. He smiles.

“I have one last gift for you,” he says quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter every window and mirror throughout the entire mansion.

You tilt your head, curiosity drawing your brows together in a silent question. Your smile stays the same. He shifts, helping you sit up so you’re side by side, just facing opposite directions. You watch as his Evol reaches out to the nightstand drawer, pulling out a box and placing it in his awaiting hand. He offers it to you with purpose.

It’s simple, but beautiful nonetheless. Carefully carved wood, rich in color, with a domed lid and rounded edges. It’s about the length of your palm, and no wider than three fingers. A red silk ribbon in a bow ties it together, preventing the hinged lid from being opened. You glance back up at him. He nods toward it.

The silk slips softly through your fingers as you tug on one end of the bow. The knot falls apart, and the ribbon slides onto your lap. You lift the lid and-

You look up at Sylus, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. He smiles broadly at your reaction. You look back at the present, emotion bubbling up in your chest once more. It feels even more powerful than earlier. Your eyes burn, but you fight back the tears.

Two rings perch side by side within the velvet-lined box. Red jewels decorate golden bands, shimmering in the dim lighting of his bedroom. A matching set. This is far more than just a pair of earrings or cufflinks, this is…

The first tear falls. You hold the box to your chest as you lean toward Sylus. He meets you halfway, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His broad chest shields you from the rest of the world, hiding the emotions you only allow him to see. Which is wonderful, because you feel so silly, crying over a present like this. He’s given you so much in your time together. Anything you could ever dream of and more - always more. Always trying to make sure you’re happy and comfortable. This is like him giving you the world. You can’t ask for anything greater than that.

“Read the engraving,” he whispers, gently pulling the box from your chest. He holds it while your shaky fingers, usually so steady and sure, pull the smaller ring from the cushion. It takes a minute to see, having to wipe your eyes several times to get rid of the steady flow of tears.

You are my new destiny.

You cover your mouth with your free hand, muffling the sounds that try to escape. It’s usually so easy to be quiet, even under the worst torture. It seems impossible to shut up now.

Sylus pulls your hand away from your mouth, abandoning the box on the bed next to you, and cupping your cheek to wipe away the tears. He kisses your forehead. “May I put it on you?”

You nod immediately. He takes the ring from your trembling fingers and holds your left hand. You watch, entranced, as he slips it onto your pinky. It fits perfectly. The red jewel glimmers, mirror Sylus’s eyes when you look up at him. He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss over the ring.

You giggle, a soft and wet sound. You can feel his smile against your fingers. You’ve never felt so light before.

You turn to the box, using your free hand to carefully take out the larger ring. The band is a bit wider than yours, but the design holding the jewel in place is almost identical. You don’t need to ask or even gesture for him to give you his left hand; he offers it right away, still holding your left hand as he does. You slip the golden ring onto his pinky. Overcome with rapturous emotion, you hold his hand in both of yours and bring it to your lips, kissing the ring just as he had as a quiet, happy sob breeches your lips.

He wraps his arm around you, drawing you to rest against him, your joined hands resting over his erratic heart. His head is ducked down to rest against yours, kisses pressing over the crown of your head. His heart aches in the best way to be granted the opportunity to see you like this.

Your fingers play affectionately with his, thumbing over his ring and massaging his palm. When he returns the favor, brushing over your ring or gathering both of your hands in his just to hold them, you let out airy little laughs that burrow their way into his heart, where they will stay for the rest of time.

You use your right hand to finally wipe the last of your tears away, unwilling to let go of the bond that ties you together. You pull back just enough to look up at his face with a big, beaming grin. He leans his forehead against yours, your noses brushing against each other.

“I love you,” you whisper. It comes out crackly and hoarse, but it sounds like music to his ears.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back. “In every lifetime, I will find you. For the rest of eternity. Always.”

You tilt your chin up to capture his lips. It starts slow, a mere vessel for the vow he made, a seal that forces this change in fate he is creating. It doesn’t take long for it to grow hungry and desperate for each other. Not long at all until he’s cradling your neck, cold metal pressing against your skin, as he lowers you back into the bed, leaning his body over yours and supporting himself so all his weight isn’t crushing you.

“Happy birthday,” he breathes into your mouth, “my beloved.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[aggro-my-beloved]

Oh, My Darlin' Sam Collins x Reader Imagine

note: this was meant to be posted a lot sooner, but i struggled to be satisfied with the finished product. I've re-written this 3 different times and still am unsure about it so please let me know if you liked it by reblogging or interacting with me!

pairing: samuel collins x gn!reader

summary: post-quinn, tank has been trying to rebuild their social life and relationships with pack members. little do they know, their is one relationship david has been withholding them from kindling. when they make a surprise visit to solstice bar, however, the alpha's hands become tied...and the attractive bartender with the nice accent catches this wolf's attention — part of the pick your poison series!

warnings: mentions of alcohol, midwest emo band things, and protective alpha davey (he and tank are twins!)

wc: 1.8k

estimated reading time: 8.75 mins

“Sorry, I can’t let you in. We’re full.” David’s palm was inches away from Tank’s face. They suffered a momentary flashback of when they were kids and he would do the very same thing at their attempts to go on a rollercoaster they did not exceed the height requirement for, or trying to sneak into the theater for an R-rated film after buying tickets to a Disney feature. 

“Seriously?” They quirked a brow, going as far as to crane their neck and view the barren parking lot. If not for her vehicle tagging alongside David’s, Milo’s, and one she hadn’t recognized upon her arrival, a tumbleweed blowing past would be fitting for the sight. “It’s 8 o'clock on a Tuesday.” 

“Still busy. Asher’s here trying to kiss up to the staff to let him and Christian’s band play. Private meeting.” He scowls. While Tank enjoyed the live demos played before them, they understood it was not David’s favorite type of music. He doesn’t even label it as that. 

“I’m sorry, but wasn’t it you who said I should stop secluding myself from others?” Their slow-building anger urges some prominent veins to adorn their neck. David’s eyes try not to linger on the piercing bite marks credited to Quinn, the sight of them still makes his insides wrinkle with guilt. 

“I’m here to support the pack’s business. Here, maybe…” they pause for a moment to rifle through the knapsack hanging from their shoulder, “this will change your mind.” David rolls his eyes at their license photo staring back at him. Tank was arguably the worst pick for posing in pictures. If their eyes weren’t closed in the shot, the morsel of food jammed between their teeth was the focal point. 

David merely glances at it and deadpans. “It’s fraudulent.” 

Tank replies, “It’s not.” 

“You’re underage.” He tries.

“We’re twins!” They scoff. “The fact that you’re older by a minute says nothing about my naivety, Davey.” The tips of the bouncer's ears scorching something rosy makes Tank hum in delight. 

“I’ll…I’ll eat it.” 

“David, why are you so set on keeping me from your hard work?” Their brows are furrowed, and much like the siblings' stubborn attitudes, remain unmoving.

The truth is, David would love nothing more than to share his second home with Tank. He and Milo built this place from the ground up and cranked it into a full-fledged business with some help from old connections of Gabe. The only thing stopping him from letting Tank in was…

“Sammy I promise you—“

“Call me that again and the deal is off.” The vampire’s rasp shoots out like venom, coating the room in a tense air. 

“Alrighty, Mr. Collins,” Sam is nonetheless impressed with the alternate name—he releases an exhausted sigh to show it. Nevertheless, he allows Asher to plead his case. The younger of the two momentarily struggles to pull out the compact disc, and finally hands it to the bartender when he does.  “Just give it a couple of spins through this week and see what your customers think. It’ll grow on you, I promise.” 

“What in the hell is this drawing?” Sam brings the CD to his eyes to squint at the black squiggles across it. 

“What drawing? That’s our band’s name!” Asher clarifies with a small laugh. For being known to have sharp senses, this drummer could have him fooled. 

“And that would be…?”

“Howl’s Highway.” Asher flashes him a boasting smile. Sam only lets out an unimpressed grunt. 

“Subtle name. Definitely won’t come back to bite you in the ass.” 

“Sheesh, no wonder you and David get along so well.” Asher still has his roommate’s ten-minute-long speech echoing in his mind about how such an epic name was one step closer to a covert breach. 

“What’s your intermission consist of? Shifting mid-set and running out all our returning customers?” 

“Pfft, no..” Asher rolls his eyes, before shifting them down to the notes app on his phone and pressing the backspace button several times. 

“Hey boys, hate to interrupt your top-secret meeting.” An unfamiliar face draws Sam away from the disc, and he’s enamored by their aura immediately. He can sense they’re a shifter, most likely a wolf by the way David looms behind them with crossed arms. 

“Hey, look who finally emerged from their cave!" Asher chuckles and untucks a free barstool beside him. "Pop a seat, let me introduce you to Sammy--ahem, forgive me--Mr. Collins. This is one of our pack members, Tank."

“There’s no need for that. They’re just here for a plate of fries to go. Milo!” David alerts the chef. He hears a distant clatter, followed by a string of swears, and can only assume his colleague is checking his hair in the stainless steel frying pan yet again.

“On it!” 

“I’d also like a drink for my trip over.” Tank raises a finger and seats themselves beside Asher on the open barstool.“Have you closed the deal yet?” 

“I don’t know. Sam, have I?” Two pairs of eyes turn in the vampire's direction, but he only finds himself lost in one. A glance is enough to entice him, and though he’d never admit it, he’d be trying to recreate the exact shade of Tank’s irises in his dreams tomorrow morning. 

“Yeah, why the hell not?” He mutters, never breaking eye contact with the new acquaintance sitting at his bar. “What can I get for you to drink, darling?” They feel an unfamiliar scorch of their cheeks at the pet name but do nothing to object to it. This newfound sweltering in the pit of their stomach is something they’ve only felt once or twice, and they’d be damned to extinguish it. 

David, however, has different plans.

“It’s all good, Sam. I can make it. Go ahead and take your break.” David slinks behind the bar.

“But I just got here half an hour ago…” his southern drawl becomes even more present with the mild fear lacing his words. He becomes suddenly aware of how tense David’s stature is, and the clenched fists at his side. 

“Go take a break or I'll cut you early. Understood?” David snarls, and Sam takes a step back towards the swing door of the kitchen. A few seconds go by before he concedes.

“Yes, sir.” He retreats behind the kitchen door, both confused and frightened by David’s sudden change in attitude. As he’s wandering the kitchen to find any leftover appetizers from the lunch rush earlier in the day, his ears perk up at the hushed voices from outside. 

“What crawled up your ass?” He hears the Tank ask.

“Yeah, what did Sam do?” Asher jumps in.

“Nothing.” David insists. “What do you want?” Sam can practically hear the sneer in David’s voice, complemented by clinking glasses.

“Ooh, ooh, Bud Lite please!” 

“I wasn’t asking you, Ash,” a few seconds later, the noise of air decompressing and a bottle cap being flicked is heard.

“I want the nice bartender back. He seems less… aggravated.” Hot as fuck, is also another attribute Tank associates with him, but decides not to indulge. 

“Well the nice bartender just went on break, so it looks like you’re stuck with me.” 

“That’s okay, I can wait.” Sam snickers at their persistence. Milo turns his head to see what’s so funny. Sam waves him off and clears his throat. Perhaps the fryer is so loud, or the bar is so slow, Milo couldn’t care less to acknowledge the commotion outside of the kitchen. 

The wolf decides to break the silence when he brings the fryer baskets up from their grease bath and allows the fries to cool down. “Whatcha thinking for dinner? We’re fully stocked on everything from the truck this morning.” 

If he answered honestly and told Milo he’d lost his appetite, that he just wants answers as to why David has a sudden vendetta against him communicating with this pack member, that would only result in more questions. Instead, he eyes the shifter piling a styrofoam box with freshly cooked and seasoned fries and halts him short of his walk out the door. 

“Why don’t I send this out, if you make me a batch of those small hamburgers…the ones with the toothpicks in them?” Milo snorts, and genders:

“You mean sliders, Sam?” 

“Yes, those. I’ll be right back.” He spares him a thankful smile, and cracks open the kitchen door to concentrate back on the trio’s conversation. Sam isn’t sure whether he should feel disappointed that the focal point of their chat was back on Asher’s band. 

“Play track four—that’s my favorite!” The drummer suggests to David, who grumbles as he fiddles with the CD player stowed in one of the bar cabinets.

“What’s the name of the song?” Asks Tank.

“The Voices in the Basement Are Getting Loud Again and the Basement is My Brain.” 

“…oh.” 

“A side of fries to go,” Sam reintroduces himself by swiftly taking a seat beside the empowered person at the bar and offering them their still steaming box of food. 

“Oh,” their tone morphs to something of interest as they readjust their body to face Sam with a pleased smile. “Didn’t you hear?” Without breaking eye contact, they undo the tabs of the styrofoam box and flip the top open with ease. “I’m staying to eat now.”

“Ain’t that somethin’,” says Sam, who harbors a pleased grin. David clears his throat, now towering over the two with folded arms and an unimpressed glaze over his eyes. 

“It’s something alright.” 

“David, come help me with the trash!” Milo’s voice beckons the Alpha to stand down from the bar and retreat to the kitchen, much to his dismay. 

“Saved by the bell.” Sam jokes, before offering Tank a tilt of his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…you seem like you can handle yourself in the face of trouble. Is he always this protective of his pack?” Tank’s fingers drum against the countertop as they ponder how to word their answer. 

“He’s just been wary about me hanging around vamps lately because of…some trouble I got into. Let’s put it this way, the other guy had it coming.” Tank tilts their chin up, unintentionally revealing a few of the remaining marks left by Quinn. Sam doesn’t need to study them hard to figure out the vamp was feeding out of spite, not biting for their equal pleasure. 

“I’m sure he did, messin’ with a member of one of Dahlia’s most reputable packs. Care to share this fella’s name so I can add him to my shit list?” He inquires.

“How about we share a drink first?” Tank smiles, before sliding the plate of fries closer to his direction. Eagerly, Sam plucks one from the platter and bites down on it, his fangs sparkling beneath the dim lights of the bar. 

“I know just the one.”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Deal Breaker

Trans!Santiago Garcia X GN!Reader • Rating: PG  Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info •

A/N: Written for @romanarose's Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024! (Super late, but this is for the 'coming out' theme, thank you for letting me post it so late💚) This is super self-indulgent and just like *dreamy sigh* what would be the nicest reaction someone would have to someone else telling them they're trans.

Summary: Santi has something to tell you.

Warnings: overuse of italics, swearing, Santi being anxious, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 1014

Santi paced back and forth outside of your house, practically wearing a groove into the pavement. (And trying not to walk into the lamp post again.) 

He’d been there for over ten minutes, trying his best to work up enough nerve to knock on your door. 

You’d been on one date, a chill one. Just a drink and cake at a little coffee shop he’d recommended. (Or, more correctly, Will had recommended and Santi had taken credit for.) You’d both ended up staying there talking for almost four hours. 

You've been messaging everyday, joking, sending voice notes, videos and pictures. Everything was going great. He liked you. A lot. 

And now he was going to fuck it all up. 

“Hi, just wanted to let you know…” He muttered under his breath, repeating what he was going to say, what he needed to say. “I just thought you should know… you know… before this gets any further, not that things have to get further, I mean… I want to say I like you and I’m… I’m…” 

“Santi?” 

He jumps, visibly jumps, his eyes wide like a rabbit startled by headlights. 

You find it quite endearing the way he looks at you, a bright panic. You’d just been grabbing some last minute bits and pieces and your local corner shop for the meal you were making together tonight. 

“Trans!” Santi says a little too loud. 

“What?” 

“Erm…”

“Trains?” 

“No.” 

“What did you say?”

He pauses, biting his bottom lip. Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Trans.” He says very softly, closing his eyes for a second. This was not how it was meant to go. “I’m… I wanted to tell you before… I really like you and… you should know… I’m, I’m trans. I’m a trans man.” 

He looks up at you, ready to see disgust. Rejection. 

Instead you smile warmly and nod. “Okay, thank you for telling me.” You point to your front door, “you wanna go inside?” 

He pauses, staring at you for a long moment as his brain tries to and two and two together but keeps getting minus seven. “I… erm… inside?” 

“For the food, the meal date? We were gonna cook together?” You say politely, mistaking his confusion.

“You, you still want to… go out with me?” He doesn’t mean for the words to come out so softly, so small. 

It’s your turn to pause and truly absorb what he said. Your eyes widening as realisation dawns. “Oh, of course! Santi, fuck, sorry,” you put you hand on his arm and squeeze reassuringly. “It’s not a problem for me that you're trans, no problem at all. Doesn’t affect anything. I really like you too.” 

He gives you a brilliant smile, all of his nervous energy outpouring as relief washes over. 

He nods and walks with you as you both move towards the door, taking your shopping bag for you as you fish out your keys. 

“Do you, erm,” he pauses for a second to take off his shoes as you do the same, “do you have any… questions?” 

You turn away just to shut the door before you look back at him. “Questions?” 

“Yeah… about the trans stuff.” He shakes his head, trying to sound more assertive. Fuck, being shot at was always easier than this. “I mean, me being trans.” 

“Do you usually get questions?” 

He nods. 

You pause, thinking it over for a second. “Do you want me to ask questions?” You say sincerely. 

He smiles and rubs the back of his head. “You know, no one's ever asked that before.” 

You smile back.

“Erm, yeah, yeah,” he nods, “questions would be good actually. Normal.” 

You laugh good naturedly, “kay,” you make your way to the kitchen, pointing out the different rooms as you go. 

“Your house is really nice.” 

“Thank you.” 

“And thank you for, well, being so… for being normal about how I blurted it out outside, usually I’m a bit more together.” He says, a touch of bashfulness in his tone. 

“Are people usually not normal? Wait, that’s a numb as fuck question.”

Santi laughs as you pull a face. “A lot of people are very normal about it,” he smiles, “but I don’t tell a lot of people.” 

You nod as you start to unpack your bag, Santi jumps in to help. “So, when did you transition?” 

“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “I know it’s a cliche but I kind of always knew, you know?” 

“Not cliche, just a common experience.” You smile and nudge your shoulder into his. 

He grins. “Started ‘dressing like a boy’ when I was 15, but it wasn’t until I was 18 and out of the house that I changed my name and stuff.” 

You nod. 

“Been on T for a long time now. Managed to get top surgery when I was 24.” He pauses, “sorry, I’m word vomiting all over the place here and-”

“Hey,” you smile warmly, taking his hands, there’s a slight tremor to them. You rub your fingers over his skin reassuringly. “It’s good, great. Not oversharing, thank you for wanting to share with me.” 

He returned the expression a little shyly, “thanks, I just…” He screws up his eyes and sighs, “need to overshare one more thing.” 

“Go ahead.” You give his hands a soft squeeze.

“I’m, I haven’t had bottom surgery.” He swallows, keeping his eyes closed, “I don’t know if that’s a deal breaker for you, I understand if it is.” 

You lean forward and kiss his cheek. “Not a problem.” 

He opens his eyes quickly, looking at you like you painted every pink sunset cloud in the sky, before he presses a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. “Thank you.” He mutters, stroking your cheek and kissing you again. 

He slowly steps closer, pressing flush against you and snaking his right hand to rest on your hip, giving him all the leverage he needs to gently press you back against the counter top and slip his tongue into your mouth. 

It is a long time before the half unpacked groceries are remembered. 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt

@novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[jiraisupportgroup]

why do you get to sit in your heated home with daddy’s money and tell everyone who can and can’t wear jirai kei?

I don’t usually respond to stuff like this, especially because I’m fairly certain this was just ripped from a popular j-fashion creators video, but:

I feel like I make it quite clear that when I talk about jirai kei it’s just my opinions. I openly state that I’m likely a dumbass and you should take my word with a grain of salt considering I’m not a spokesperson for the Jirai Kei community, I’m not an expert on Jirai Kei, I also don’t speak Japanese so I can’t rly access a lot of “OG” jirai kei content that launched the community.

Additionally: I’ve never stated that anyone can’t wear anything. The closest I’ve gotten to that is when I state that I don’t generally believe “jirai kei” is the appropriate term for the fashion (therefore you can’t rly “wear it” if we want to be super technical) or when I said that “fashion jirais” who complain about the community can fuck off.

Never at any point in that did I say that anyone can’t wear anything. If you want to wear girly kei or dark girly or larme or ryousangata or whatever the fuck you want to wear - by all means please do. My main point is if you don’t like the jirai kei community, don’t interact with it. You can post coords and find friends and have a lot of fun with the clothing if that’s want you want to do. You can buy Liz Lisa & MCM bags and generally live your best ryousangata life. You don’t have to interact with the jirai kei community to do that. Block the people you find annoying. Block tags, block accounts, block whatever you don’t want to see. No one is going to be mad at you for not wanting to interact with the “dark side” of jirai kei (as people love to call it for some reason) UNLESS you’re adamantly saying “the dark side is wrong” and then using a shitload of jirai-related tags. Other tags for these clothes exist. Separate the two if you want, I don’t give a fuck; jirai kei doesn’t own the clothing.

I’m not going to sit here and outright defend people in the jirai kei community posting people’s coords and bullying them, I’m not gunna sit here and defend the fatphobic or racist things that have been said on jirai kei twt. I will point out that those posts are not actually super common in the jirai kei community, and the people that post them generally aren’t very well liked by other landmines either, they also tend to be very young. It’s a really big community. There are going to be “bad apples” especially because it’s a community based around mental health issues. You can’t look at that handful of posts and say “the entire community is toxic and awful”. Venting & the like are very common, but it’s pretty rare that I see people actively posting hate like that, and there is a huge difference between the two. Most of the landmines I see are too scared to even make vague callout posts. Maybe that’s just Tumblr, idk, but honestly the amount of hate I see in this community is rather small.

Secondarily to your point; my house is not fucking heated. I can barely afford to run the AC in the summer or the heat in the winter - typically I turn it on when my BF is here and turn it off when he leaves to save money. I have my own apartment. I work for my own apartment. I can barely fucking afford it. I make about $2700 a month and my bills add up to be about $2400 a month (and it’s not like an expensive or nice apartment it’s literally full of roaches and my oven doesn’t work). I usually end up spending about $100 of the leftover on cat food, and then have $200 left over for gas to get to work AND food AND toiletries for the MONTH.

I don’t have “daddy’s money”. I live by myself about 8 hours away from my family; they don’t have shit to send me. My dad died 3 years ago and left us with 50k in debt because he decided paying taxes was optional. When that happened - I was making 17.50 an hour and I had the HIGHEST WAGE out of anyone in my family. I was trying to finish college which I was attending on a scholarship bc I couldn’t fucking afford it, I was working overtime, trying to organize my dad’s funeral bc no one else in my family could do it, and paying tax payments. “Daddy’s money” was a negative sum. I frequently send leftover cash to my family if there is any just to help them in any way I can.

The cute and nice things I can afford are typically bought either because I pick up overnight shifts at my secondary serving job or from sugar daddies. Although I stopped sugaring about 3 years ago.

I started working when I was 15. I started SW when I was 17 to help my family pay rent. I did SW from about 17 years old to 21 and stopped shortly after my father died because I didn’t have the time anymore. And I fucking hated it but it made money.

Don’t fucking come at me saying I’ve got a nice house and daddy’s money when I’m sitting in a roach-infested apartment that I work myself to the fucking bone for & I spent multiple years trying to pay off my dad’s debt.

Fuck right off with that dude.

[patron-saints]

on morality & madeleine: interview with the vampire meta (written after s2e6)

so far, i’ve found that trying to process my thoughts on madeleine feels really difficult when everyone online has their own opinions and their own biases. this post is kind of my attempt to sort out how i feel about her, and to refute and explore some arguments i’ve seen pop up in her tag.

i think the people who are pointing out that first and foremost these are fictional characters have it right: they’re not real people, their relative morality is only relevant as it pertains to the story itself. and in a story like interview with the vampire, your baseline is that every main character is a killer. in terms of morality, evaluating whether or not a character is a good person is pretty useless and also just… isn’t the point of the story. all characters are functions of a narrative, all characters are tools that you use to tell a story. their morality should not be judged in the same way as you would a real person’s! now. all that being said, let’s have some fun judging* madeleine anyway!

*doing some of my own biased character analysis on

what we know comes to us from a few sources: claudia’s diary, which daniel can read, (decent primary source, but filtered with her biases), louis’s recollection of madeleine’s memories (secondary source that relies on both of their ability to remember clearly) and presumably, louis and armand’s recollections of their interactions as well, which isn’t a whole lot to begin with.

part 1: the nazi fucking

when madeleine talks about sleeping with a nazi to claudia, she’s extremely casual about it. while she notes he brought her food, and cigarettes, she says in a way that invokes a courtship ritual, rather than a direct bribe. it’s impossible to divorce this from the context though: her neighbors are starving, and she was brought food. it likely was a bribe, but what’s important is that she doesn’t relay it as one. her focus when she starts talking about him is on the connection: “it was the comfort, the proof of life,” as she says. if she had been coerced, or if she felt like she had no choice in the matter, i think she would have presented it a little differently. but her affection for the guy is clear, and she even mocks him a little to claudia. in her own words, “i wasn’t inviting hitler to stay in france, i was inviting a frightened boy to cradle my tits.” 

which. let’s be real here: to claudia, she is downplaying it. she slept with an occupying soldier during an occupation. watching this scene for the first time, you could even reasonably assume she doesn’t get how serious that is. but once you see the degree of punishment she faced, and continues to face for her actions, you realize her framing here is a learned defense against genuine violence. she feels she has to downplay it to herself and to claudia because there is an imbalance here. it becomes harder to admit to your wrongdoings when the punishments you face for them feel wildly disproportionate.

madeleine did something she never should have done, something she doesn’t feel remorse for, but something that she’s being punished for in a way that far exceeds what any person deserves.

when she talks about it to armand, her framing changes again. she calls it a love, still, so the affection is still present, but she places a greater emphasis on doing what it takes to survive, implying more so that sleeping with a nazi was an act of self-preservation. regardless of whether this is more true than how she presents things to claudia, she has a motivation here too.

when she shares her experiences with claudia, she’s flirting, trying to make her laugh, trying to make a connection, and this part might be subconsciously, but she is certainly trying to get claudia to like her. when she talks to armand, however, she’s actively trying to convince him to grant her the dark gift. she has to portray herself as capable, as self-sufficient, and discerning, and it works! even though he denies her based on his own biases, armand is visibly impressed by all of madeleine’s answers to his questions.

and all we get from louis was that the experience was sweet. and let’s be real, it did look pretty sweet.

i don’t believe madeleine has any hatred for the boy she slept with. i don’t think there’s any evidence she has any hatred for jewish people either, or for her country, which her neighbors believe she betrayed. i think she chose to prioritize a moment of human connection (and possibly food) over the greater consequences of her actions.

i have been looking for the post again since i saw it, so if anyone sees it lmk! but! the op talked about the fact that madeleine as a collaborator isn’t changing her behavior in any meaningful way now: she watched claudia kill in front of her, and instead of running, she once again invited the danger in, joined up with it. i believe the post said something like: once a collaborator, always a collaborator.

this has really stuck with me and i really wish i could reference it properly.

cuz i think there is something there—i think madeleine’s self-preservation instinct is a little screwed on wrong, i think she is acting similarly with claudia as she did with the nazi, but i think it’s not just about the danger. portraying her choice to follow claudia as a cold moment of choosing survival takes away from her complexity, and from the veracity of her feelings for claudia. so, not just the danger. i think it’s about the connection again.

the connection she has with claudia is real, the love she has for claudia is incredibly real. but madeleine is once again prioritizing an interpersonal connection over anything else, and that is the pattern she’s repeating here.

part 2: the apparent age gap issues

every single person who says their relationship is problematic because claudia is a child owes me and claudia fifty bucks.

i don’t really even want to get into that because i don’t think it’s worth my time. the show has put a lot of effort into demonstrating that claudia is an adult trapped in the body of a teenager, and that experience is hard enough on her without all you people insisting she’s still a kid anyway.

however, there’s a secondary argument i’ve seen which i do want to address, which is madeleine’s perception of her.

in their first meeting in the shop, it’s clear that madeleine is seeing claudia as a teenager. she calls her one directly, and references her “body about to bloom” when they meet again two years later. however, when they do meet two years later, claudia has not grown. we know madeleine has noticed this by the dress fitting scene for certain, but it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume she noticed that sooner. additionally, in the same breath, madeleine also references claudia’s “mind of a sophisticate.” by the time claudia tells her that her growth was stunted due to the war, it’s extremely likely that madeleine had already reached a similar conclusion. she doesn’t look surprised at all when claudia says it, and it’s because claudia seems like an adult. even if she doesn’t look like one, she carries herself like one, she makes conversation like one, and it’s very easy for madeleine to accept the reality that she is one, because she may have suspected as much already. 

the reason i say all of this is because i’ve seen multiple people saying it’s inappropriate for her to flirt with claudia before she knows she’s an adult.

is their interaction at the shop window flirting? are they flirting outside the theatre, just after the play? both of these scenes are before claudia says her growth was stunted. i think it’s impossible to say they were definitively flirtatious, but i will certainly say there was a vibe. and i think that’s… kind of fine actually ? two people can have chemistry and it doesn’t have to mean anything about them morally. and my coworker andy said it would have been weirder if they had no chemistry and then did suddenly after madeleine realizes she’s an adult, which made me laugh, and which i think is correct. i like the way they get along before the dress fitting, i think those scenes are fun, and the ambiguity of the flavor adds to it.

i did see at least one post that said it was inappropriate for madeleine to talk about sex frankly with claudia if she thinks she’s a teenager, and to that i say. you can talk to teens about sex. even if she didn’t suspect claudia was older, it’s still fine. they are friends, and she’s sharing an experience she had because claudia asked her about it. 

additionally, it’s both a very contemporary & a very american idea that People Under 18 need to be kept from conversations about sex. frankness about sexuality is in fact, very french lol.  

i did originally think that this was after the conversation about claudia not growing, but i just watched the scene again to be sure and it was, in fact, also before, but i think my point stands. 

i don’t know for certain if she intended to come across as flirtatious in these scenes, but i know something clicked for her right around her confession. you can see it, when they lock eyes in the mirror, that whatever the vibe is, they’ve both clocked it. and she finds out claudia’s older than she looks only seconds later, because she’s the one pointing out that claudia hasn’t grown. (but, yes, i’ll add anyway: after claudia says her growth was stunted, and after that moment of connection, madeleine’s expressions do seem a lot more… Interested too, lol). 

i understand and i empathize so much with people’s criticisms of madeleine’s past. i have no intention to exonerate her in that regard (other than her previously mentioned narrative tool status) but i will jump to her defense when it comes to her relationship with claudia.

madeleine sees claudia as an adult, because claudia is an adult.

if they weren’t vampires, and if they weren’t queer in the 1940s, maybe she’d be worried about how others saw their relationship. or maybe it would be weird if she didn’t care how it looked. but given that the only people who will know they’re romantically together are other vampires, i don’t see her lack of concern for the optics being that much of an issue either.

and the reason she’s not concerned is because she knows what claudia is to her. which brings us to:

part 3: the sister stuff

once again i think the show does a pretty good job of refuting this one on its own, but i’d like to get all my arguments in the same place.

so. i see “don’t worry about the blood, it’s the blood that made you,” getting thrown around a lot as proof that madeleine is replacing claudia as her sister.

why would they have a scene that directly refutes this if they were true? when louis asks if that’s what’s going on, claudia says they already “had it out,” and madeleine clarifies that claudia is nothing like her sister, and cannot be a replacement.

“don’t worry about the blood, it’s the blood that made you,” is something that madeleine says because she loves claudia, because she loves the person and the vampire that she is. because she wants claudia to know that her past does not define her. because she wants her to know she doesn’t feel tainted by it, and that claudia doesn’t have to either.

and yeah, it’s not that there’s zero incestuous tones to it! or to the whole arrangement, certainly. but i think any that are there pretty neatly fall under the “iwtv typical wire crossings” flavor rather than the “you’re my dead sister’s replacement” flavor.

so, yeah. despite saying fictional character morality doesn’t matter, i’ve just written several paragraphs trying to figure out if madeleine is a good person or not. really, though, that’s not the question iwtv wants us to ask, or the question i really want to ask its viewers either. is madeleine a good person? eh, probably not. is madeleine a good person for claudia? absolutely.

on this, iwtv is extremely clear. madeleine is an ideal partner. she’s not scared, she’s not surrounded by friends and family she’d grieve, she’s weirdly suited to vampirism, and she loves claudia so much. they share a morbid sense of humor, they’re comfortable teasing each other, they communicate in an extremely healthy way, and every single step of their relationship is based on consent.

the entire time i was watching her scene with armand, i just kept whispering, “oh my god, she’s perfect.” she nailed absolutely every question because she’s perfect for what she’s supposed to do as character, as a function of the narrative she is a part of. madeleine is perfect because she is perfect for claudia.

[aluria-sevhex]

HELL FUCKING YESSSSSSSS

hey if you wanna read all of my posts as i play through ISAT, they are all tagged as #Aluria plays ISAT for the first time (please don't spoil)

notes:

-aight i'm back yippee

-title theme my beloved

-i always find it so funny when an enemy tries to freeze Mira

-gonna try this boss again

-ok i think i'll just replay Floor 3 on this loop instead of looping forward after i find out another one of Bonnie's favorite foods so i can build up everybody's stats

-OH. BONNIE OVERHEARD THE DEATH CONVERSATION.

-heh Bonnie slapped Siffrin

-uh... the audio is REALLY ominous...

-oh, Bonnie...

-WAIT WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT DID I JUST LOOP SLIGHTLY BACK IN THE PAST?

-Siffrin you ok i don't think that was helping ur mental health issues your eye is covered in shadow in your dialogue portrait

-i will once again NOT kill Siffrin via anaphylaxis. i will take the fish head

-...i didn't. get info on Bonnie's favorite foods this time.

-ok according to the save screen that didn't count as a loop

-anyway time to try looping to get the Bonnie snack info

-hey... the Tear dialogue isn't as silly anymore (it just says yes or no without the 'looping time' or 'living time')

-hey i didn't skip any loops this time!

-time to kill this pair of assholes again

-"carry my ashes with you" aw that's a sweet dialogue option

-i am so tempted to kill Siffrin. but i won't.

-awwww... i talked to Bonnie and now Sif is comforting them

-ok how the fuck do i get the info. BONNIE PLS.

-hold up. does Siffrin no longer nod when zoning out? :((((

-WAIT FUCK DID I FORGET TO GET THE KEY ON FLOOR 2.

-...Mira's roommate. was learning to make bombs. why???

-lol Isa knows how to make a bomb

-Mira has anti-anxiety meds. this makes a lot of sense tbh

-...what are these papers for???

-so i decided to try using the silver coin since a person said that you can do something with it related to the croissant lore. and it said "you think about the Incident" or smth like that lol

-lol Sif forgot the term 'stuffed animal'

-idk why but it feels like a lot of Craft skills are like. slower. or have bigger cooldowns in Act 3. even tho i KNOW they don't and my brain is fucking with me

-ok the game accounted for the key thing

-in the bathroom again

-Sif is calming themself again and figuring out what to do

-Siffrin, self-loathing and calling yourself stupid won't help :(

-i zoned out at some minor dialogue but i don't remember what the dialogue was the first time so i am fucking clueless about what was going on with a choice i made. sorry Mira idk why i 'saved you' by smacking your mouth ;_;

-i love getting to obliterate weaker Rock enemies with Paper α V

-i have now gotten Sif to level 60

-sometimes it's nice to take a break and talk to Loop

-wait a sec. doesn't one of the lower floors have a sharpening stone?

-ok it's been a while and now i have everybody back to level 52. time to kick the asses of the 3rd floor boss

-ooo Odile got a new skill

-time for the last snack break!

-Bonnie's upset now because i didn't try the fritters D:

-time to face the King again... and hopefully talk to him

-welp. *that* didn't work

-oh nvm now i can ask him questions via the Craft menu!

-you. you can give the King the flower.

-yeah the characters have a point! why Vaugarde specifically?

-the King is NOT responsible but he says Siffrin has an odd smell. huh... the only other things where an odd smell has been noted is Bonnie saying the star crest Sadnesses smell odd... but if Sif had that smell then it would've been noticed sooner...

-dude. how rude to say that if Siffrin doesn't understand Time Craft they can't understand the King's methods. maybe i should read more on Time Craft in one of the libraries? or that one book on craftonomy...

-the "you have heard this before" for zoning out got more and more annoyed

-once again. what does the King need to say?

-hm i was talking to Odile and Bonnie piped in really excitedly that they have more pineapple in their pocket

-GOD FUCKING DAMMIT MIRABELLE I LOVE YOU BUT YOU STOPPED ISA'S CONFESSION ToT

-time to talk to Euphrasie and loop again ig

-hey what's that in her hair?

-"you inhale sharply, almost choking on the smell of burnt sugar around you" BURNT SUGAR BURNT SUGAR THAT'S THE SMELL OF TIME SHENANIGANS AS SEEN WITH THOSE SADNESSES

-SAY SOMETHING ELSE EUPHRASIE

-how do i get the familytale?

-ok i talked to Odile and i'm gonna help her!

-am i gonna have to go all over town for this?

lmao yeah i think i will

-oh hey the wizard-loving kid is named Manon

-oh my god. i have to go back to the boulanger

-FINALLY

-:O THERE IS NO RESEARCH???

-oh THAT'S why Odile is in Vaugarde

-oh... her mom left... all of her travels here have been to try to reconnect with that part of her...

-HEY SIFFRIN I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING WHERE THE *FUCK* ARE YOU FROM?

-damn. bro has amnesia

-LMAO I ASKED MIRA ABOUT THE PAPERS AND THE BATTLE THEME STARTED

-...bonding proposals???

-oh my god Mira joined a dating website group

-"we have one of those at home"

-"oh, i don't have a type! i like all kinds of people equally!" is this in a bi way or an aro way

-YEAH AROMANTIC REPRESENTATION

-DIVERSITY WIN! THE KICKASS HANDMAIDEN WHO'S IMMUNE TO BEING FROZEN IN TIME AND THE SORT-OF CHOSEN ONE IS ARO!!! I FUCKING CALLED IT YEAHHHHHHHH :D

-oh, Mira :( you're not the problem you don't have to do anything like that you're not comfortable with

-hm this game is dealing with personal identity a lot

-:( :( :( oh, Mira...

-DIVERSITY WIN!!! THE SKETCHY WANDERER STUCK IN A TIME LOOP WITH MENTAL HEALTH PROBLEMS IS ACE!!!

-MY BLORBOS ARE ACE AND AROACE FUCK YEAH I AM SO HAPPY

-FUCK IT I'M POSTING NOW

SERIOUSLY THO I DON'T THINK I CAN ACCURATELY CONVEY HOW FUCKING HAPPY THIS PART IS MAKING ME. TWO OF MY FAVORITES ARE ACE AND AROACE HELL FUCKING YES

[caelanglang]

Who are your fav skk fanfic writers and why? Do you have their works that you love the most that you don't mind sharing here? 💘

this... this is such a hard question, *brings out a whole safe of records* /j (no srsly it's gonna be a long read--)

Here are a list of authors i really like :3 Their ao3 links/handles are:

the_most_happy: love how emotional their work can be! they have smut and fluff works, and most of all—which i think the the most delicious one, is the way they write angst <3 I actually made a bunch of fanart for their fics/aus when I was just getting into the fandom :3 They're writing is like going into a spicy sexy emotinal adventure... idk how else to describe it xD my fav fic of theirs... augh so hard to choose... In Loving Memory caught me so off guard (cuz i forgot to read the tags and immediately dived into it the moment i saw their post about it hhhh)

forest_racoon: The fluff and softness and magic in their writing is so good! I love the energy and comedy and seriousness and everything in their writing! it's always so fun to pick up any of their works~ Don't be tricked tho,, the angst they deliver have the same gravity ToT it's just so... augh... I first found them through Plate :( and have reread it several times (please check out their other works too it's all so amazing!!)

devilrin: love how she writes. period. the emotions and the poetic energy of it?? the angst?? so. good. the skk energy in their writing is more mellow(?) it feels more realistic—it's like watching people instead of characters ;w; (very cool how she world builds an entire life outside of her fic for her characters actually, got to witness the behind the scenes first hand myself its pretty insane to me) The fic that ruined me tho is Down to a Sunless Sea (which is so angsty im so--)

themadtree: The energy in their writing is just so amazing. it's very hard to stop mid-way! The dialogue feels very fun and engaging and you really get very attached to the characters because of how energetic and full of life they are. Whimsical is the best word I can think of to describe the reading experience of their work :3 They made a bunch of fun aus; their brain is just so amazing (pirate au and avatar au like broooooo) My favorite is Mors Vincit Omnia (yummy pirate au!)

StarshipDancer: one of the first ao3 writers whose name i decided to remember by heart (which means a lot considering how bad i am with names) because they are my most searched user in ao3 xD The fluff is just so addicting. The sillies and shenanegans are so on point for me, idk it just scratch this itch so perfectly in my brain. I draw a of inspiration from my skk sketches from their works actually :3!! READ EVERYTHING THEY HAVE PLS ITS ALL SO GOOD (you should check the fluff week collection augh) Without Words is one of my most reread ones... I think... I reread a lot of their works tho...

setosdarkness: let's be honest. i think everyone whose dived into ao3 skk just knows her alreayd xD she's such a kween for that, making sure we are so well fed with so much fun skk writing. Her works are so fun to read! Very comedic and has such similar energy to the gag moments and bickering and shenanigans of the anime skk for me idk why. I love how fun and unique each fic scenarios are :3 (no srsly you'll never run out of food made with so much love by athina-san)

xLillyle: I am working with Lilly for a Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood skk au!! (its Royai skk BUT it's also beast!skk) it's been so exciting to work with her :3!! You can check some of the teasers here. She made an iwaoi!skk fic recently so if that's you're type hehe *starts bawling*

there are lots of other amazing authors there but these are the ones that came to mind and i am most familiar with for now :3 Here are some other fics ~~

When I Awake: Ghost(?) Writer Dazai and Musician Chuuya. yummy angst. silly skk

castle out of couches: My favorite domestic fluff skk. it's my must read. Halfbloom is such a master of the fluff in comedic tone and capturing that skk domestic softness idk how they do it. it's just so good.

In One of the Stars I shall be Living: A sweetheart wrote a fic about my little prince skk au TT it's so well written and I am so in love with all the references and angst ueueue

Five Steps: My favorite skk knight x prince au TT

The Best Worst Thing: Another sweetheart wrote a fic based on my silly sketches ;w; it's so cute waaaaaa

okay. i am. so sorry for the long answer. I just love a lot of stuffs from these incredible writers. feel free to drop by again :3 these are the ones that comes to my mind first so i may have missed out on a bunch oop

[yggdraseed]

An Incomplete Analysis of the Sukunadome

I stress the point that this is an inherently incomplete analysis. It's getting late, I'm tired and unhappy, and… well, the fight isn't over yet, so there's no way this analysis could be complete even if I felt like it. However, it's on my mind, and I feel the need to start exerting myself more on these things. Sometimes sweat is the better medicine. I know this is a long one and doesn’t have any pictures, but if we all support each other, we’ll get through it together.

Full disclosure, I wish more people had gotten filtered by this fight and just stopped talking about Jujutsu Kaisen by now. Like yeah, I think it's great different people see things in different ways, but let's all be honest with ourselves here, most of the people criticizing this fight are not doing so with any sort of literary or artistic perspective or good faith. Most of it is Gojo fans who are still crying, seething, vomiting, pissing, and shitting over the fact that the character they attached their ego to didn't win Jujutsu Kaisen like they wanted. If this describes you, well, this post will probably do you some good, but I'm confident nobody who takes the stance that Gojo should have won would have the space in their mind for what I'm about to say about Sukunadome.

Because that's what I'm calling it. "The Sukuna Cycle" was maybe a little funny for a week or two, but like most memes about this series, it wasn't really based on the story so much as it was on an agenda. Kusakabe was part of the fight since Yuji and Higuruma entered, and up until Miguel, we knew all the combatants who would be tagging in were there. We knew Yuta was off dealing with Kenjaku and would return, we knew Maki was in play, and there really weren't a lot of switches. Just Choso leaving and coming back, Ui Ui retrieving Higuruma's and Gojo's corpses, and… you know, actually, I think that's it. Sure isn't as much as the "Sukuna Cycle" memes made it out to be, huh?

Okay, if you haven't noticed yet, I'm a big JJK fan and a big JJK fandom hater. I think JJK has the worst Western internet fanbase I've seen in a long time, with only a few oases scattered across the internet where you can find intelligent life. Like it's insane what kind of bullshit a person can convince themselves of.

However, I'm not analyzing JJK's fanbase, I'm analyzing JJK. Someday we'll litigate whether or not Lobotomy Kaisen was really funny enough to justify how badly it ruined this fanbase's ability to objectively, productively engage with with one of the most competently written and culturally impactful manga to come out this century. Today is not that day.

So Sukuna's got four arms and knows how to use them. He's got four eyes and so much sass one mouth wasn't enough for the amount of trash he's got to talk to the youths of today. Just on a basic level, having four arms would be such an insignificant power in any other Shonen as to almost be a joke. Yet with how jujutsu sorcery functions as a power system and how adept Sukuna is at using every possible advantage at his disposal - even going so far as to take what probably should be disadvantages and twist them to work for him - having the ability to make hand seals while fighting hand-to-hand, and being able to chant without interrupting his breathing, are inseparable from Sukuna's godlike fighting ability. I love how something seemingly so mundane is such a huge x factor for Sukuna.

We continually see how Sukuna is a complex, but fundamentally vile antagonist. He has a very rich, detailed view of the world, but one that fundamentally reduces every other human being to be his playthings and food. It's just that Sukuna says, "Don't like it? Then get stronger." It's a very Social Darwinist, late stage capitalist view to be coming from the Heian Era, and I think that maybe it's intentional. Shitty people are shitty in mostly the same ways, it's just they find new things to be shitty about or to use to be shitty with.

Like if that were all it is, it'd make Sukuna so effective as a villain to hate and would slot so nicely into Jujutsu Kaisen's overarching social and political commentary. Cruelty within suffering, selfishness as a strength and a weakness, the unfairness of how the strength to pursue one's agency is unevenly distributed and how the haves don’t realize how easily they could have instead been have-nots, it's all there.

But there’s this inherent charisma to Sukuna that I think is intentional. He has this noblesse oblige where he’s so inherently aware of his greatness that he doesn’t have a problem with giving credit where credit is due. Like he talks all the trash when he’s fighting Jogo, but where Gojo’s insults come across as puerile and blunt, Sukuna’s always displaying this wit to him. And when the battle’s over, he acknowledges that even though Jogo wasn’t as strong as him, he was stronger than most and could have gone even further if he hadn’t held himself back. He starts off belittling Gojo in their fight, but by the end, he expresses a profound respect and gratitude towards Gojo. Like it’s a very warped form of those sentiments, but I think it’s sincere. Even with Ishigori, when Sukuna fails to cut him the first time, he just acknowledges it was disrespectful to hold back and that he’ll give it full force the next strike.

Something to keep in mind is that everything Megumi warned Yuji about when it comes to ancient sorcerers applies to Sukuna as well. They’re not treated as uniformly, unambiguously evil anymore than anyone else in JJK is, and are acknowledged as having fundamentally different world views about violence and the value of human life. Kashimo, for instance, seems to value his life only because he’s able to risk his life and lay it on the line. They’re people from an era where children died so young that parents often gave them numbered names so as to not get too attached until they’d see if their kids actually were going to make it or not. If you didn’t give your whole life over to a goal, you probably wouldn’t achieve it. Whereas modern sorcerers, modern people, have all these complex and sometimes contradictory views and needs, ancient sorcerers show a tendency to shave everything away except their one singular conviction because that was what you had to do in an era of much shorter life expectancies and peril on all sides. You’d be very lucky to accomplish one life goal, let alone as many as people of today set out to achieve: graduating high school, graduating college, getting a job, starting a family, and hopefully having one or two passions on the side. Fundamentally different worldviews from fundamentally different periods of history.

And Sukuna is no different. His goal is simple: partake in the many colors and flavors of humanity through mortal combat in the arena of sorcery. Sukuna’s love for sorcery runs deep. He’s always curious about different cursed techniques, even ones that are pedestrian to a sorcerer of his level, like Nanako’s smartphone-based technique. He reminds me of a quote from Baki: “Someone who works hard can never beat someone who enjoys himself.” Sukuna has clearly put forth great effort to master sorcery, but clearly doesn’t see it as work. He sees it as just doing what he enjoys and is good at.

Unfortunately for everyone else, he enjoys killing and is extremely good at it. Sukuna is the ultimate ethical heat death of the “live for yourself, cherish your own agency, don’t let yourself be controlled” mindset that is the ideological starting point of JJK. It’s a very dark, extreme interpretation of Buddhist non-attachment, where even compassion is an attachment to ultimately shed. Sukuna lives perfectly freely, including being free from guilt or compassion.

Naturally, there’s an exception. All things seem to have exceptions. In Sukuna’s case, that would be Uraume. I’ve been fascinated by their dynamic since we first learned of Uraume’s allegiance to Sukuna during Shibuya and I still can’t wait to know more. Suffice to say, Sukuna dotes on Uraume, forgiving their mistakes and seeming to enjoy their company not just because of their service to him, but because their existence makes him happy. I’m reminded of Power in Chainsaw Man, how she was seemingly incapable of empathy or mercy until she met Meowy.

Honestly, Sukuna reminds me a lot of a lot of characters in Chainsaw Man. People who are trying to climb from this state of misery, of struggling just to meet basic desires, and learning to be human. Yet Sukuna is so strong he never needed to learn to be human. He never needed to cooperate with others to survive — or at least, doesn’t seem to believe he did — and so he never saw the value in it. And so he’s basically brute forced his way around having to undergo an arc like Denji’s, and has instead ended up a hedonistic black hole devising all these complicated philosophical arguments to justify what is, really, a very simplistic, predatory desire to only satisfy his basic material wants and creative interests and nothing else for anyone else.

But like, it’s not that simple. If you give to others, you get something immaterial in return. I can’t quantity it or define it, but I’m sure most of you know what I mean. The happiness that comes from taking care of others’ needs, and the deeper levels beyond that happiness. Like I do believe that’s the subtext behind Binding Vows as metaphor: that you almost never give without getting in return. You might not get the same thing back, in the same form, but being changed by the act of putting the needs and wants of others before your own even temporarily still is part of the exchange. It’s part of becoming complete as a human being.

Sukuna has defied that exchange and broken the cycle, and I don’t think it’s inherently for his own benefit. There are some thing about being human that you don’t just get to opt out of, no matter how much you claim you’re more than or less than human. Even if Sukuna doesn’t think he’s lost something of value, he has. And that something of value is inherent to the whole point of this final battle.

Jujutsu Kaisen is basically working on two big problems. There are lots of ideas at play in the series, but there are two fundamental problems for which every fiight, every character arc, every turn of the gears consitutes part of the calculus to solve one or both of those problems.

The first problem, a thematic and philosophical one: “How do you love and fight for something when you know you’re going to die?”

The second problem, a metatextual one: “Is there any artistic and social value left in the Shonen formula as it stands in the modern day?”

And this fight is, ultimately, where GeGe is showing their work. It’s where Yuji has to defeat Sukuna, if not in terms of out-boxing him, then in terms of prevailing over his beliefs about humanity and the world as a whole.

GeGe has stripped Yuji of everything that is supposed to determine the worth of a Shonen protagonist’s victory. He’s not fighting alone, he didn’t go off and train all by himself, he trained with a lot of powerful, smart people who helped him. And Yuji is arguably not even the most important participant in the fight. So why should we care if Yuji wins?

The answer is so simple it’s easy to lose track of it. Yuji is risking his life to rescue someone, his friend, from being exploited, and to save the people of Japan from being exploited. Even after everything that’s happened, Yuji plants his fucking feet and takes a stance that no, shithead, there is such a thing as the right thing. Maybe it isn’t obvious all the time, and it sure as hell isn’t always easy to know what it is, but he knows now with certainty what it isn’t: to exploit others or to destroy yourself. We can find our answers somewhere in-between.

Sometimes we can’t resolve our problems with a tidy solution that makes everyone happy and sometimes we have to carve a piece of ourselves out and give to something we won’t be sure to see the fruition of, but that’s just life. It doesn’t mean we have to throw away all hope for things to get better. Even if the world won’t become utopian, it can still become better, no matter how many nihilists hide their own inequities behind assertions that there is no point.

Nihilism is not a solution to the problems of life, it is the choice to run away and hide. To give into nihilism is to give up the fight even while other people are still fighting all around you.

So that’s the fucking point of the Sukunadome. Nobara already said it better than anyone else has before she made Mahito look like the bitch he was and always will be: “Sometimes you need to fight even when you know you can’t win.” Because you won’t always win and you won’t escape death, nor will you know what lies beyond death. However, you can still live according to your principles and fight for the things you see as meaningful even if other people don’t.

That is why so many characters have come and gone from the fight. All gave some, some gave all. Nobody is truly useless — even if Miwa self-deprecatingly jokes about being useless, she still was the one thing standing between Maki and Malevolent Shrine’s eviscerating hellscape. Even Amai’s sweets-conjuring joke technique saved Hana from a would-be fatal fall and helped to supply sugar to the brains of people using reverse cursed technique in Shoko’s triage. Larue couldn’t do much, but they caught Sukuna’s eye at the perfect time for Yuji to land a Black Flash, and that means something. It all means something.

Given how deeply GeGe clearly respects Hunter X Hunter, I want to end off by citing one of the quotes in Hunter X Hunter that has been the most impactful for me and I suspect has been about as impactful on GeGe: “It seems small things… infinitesimally small things… are needed to build the entire universe. The size of a thing has nothing to do with its power.” We always seem to direct our senses to the superlatives. The largest, the oldest, the loudest, the things that hit the hardest. But while it would be wrong to throw those out, we often lose sight of how many little, important things there are in the midst of those huge, important things.

Seeing someone’s smile when you remembered something they said that showed you were listening to them. The feeling of a warm breeze on a summer morning. The smell of honeysuckle on your walk home. Waking up to rain on a Sunday. The taste of watermelon. Getting married. Having your heart broken. Songs that make you smile, songs that make you cry — songs that do both, and songs that make you feel things you can’t describe. When you’re always looking to those immense, monolithic things, always comparing your seemingly small, seemingley meaningless life to them, you lose sight of just how meaningful all of it is.

Just because it doesn’t have cosmic, absolute meaning doesn’t make it meaningless. Every little thing that means something to you is worthy of being cherished. The people around you, the things that bring you happiness, even if that happiness is going to ebb and flow. It’s all worth fighting for and living for. It just takes bravery and conviction to keep fighting and keep living with authenticity and love. And if there’s an artistic value, a greater meaning to Shonen, now and always, it’s the unerring, unabashed belief that there’s a reason to aim high and not give up.

Because sometimes, life hurts. But if it’s just pain, Yuji Itadori will never stop. We’ll see what I have to amend, reconsider, or elaborate on when the fight is finished. I hope this gave some of you a new way to look at it.

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn

chapter summary: more business plans, street food, and a fiesta

Chapter six

The next morning, you wake up with a renewed sense of purpose and excitement. After getting ready and gathering your notes and plans for the garage, you drive back to the Diaz house. The sun shines brightly, a stark contrast to the stormy night from two days ago. The drive feels shorter this time, your mind buzzing with ideas.

When you arrive, Sean is already in the garage, tinkering with a car engine. He looks up and smiles as you approach. “Morning! Ready to get started?”

You return his smile, holding up your notes. “Absolutely. I’ve got some great ideas to discuss.”

Sean nods enthusiastically. “Great! Let’s set up in the kitchen. We can grab some breakfast and go over everything.”

Inside the house, the aroma of fresh coffee fills the air. Daniel is sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a bowl of cereal. He looks up with a grin. “Morning! Ready to make some magic happen?”

You laugh, sitting down across from him. “You bet. I’m excited to get started.”

Sean brings over a pot of coffee and pours you a cup. “So, what’s the plan?”

You spread out your notes, detailing your ideas for improving the garage’s business. “First, I think we should focus on marketing. We need to get the word out more, maybe with some local ads and social media. And I was thinking we could offer a discount for first-time customers to attract more people.”

Sean listens intently, nodding. “That sounds like a solid plan. We’ve mostly relied on word-of-mouth so far, but I think it’s time to step it up.”

Daniel chimes in, “And we could make some flyers and hand them out in town. I can help with that after school.”

You smile at his enthusiasm. “That’s a great idea, Daniel. And I was also thinking we could update the garage’s website, make it more user-friendly and show off some of the work we’ve done.”

Sean grins. “I like it. You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this.”

You shrug modestly. “I just want to help you guys succeed. Plus, I love a good challenge.”

Sean’s eyes twinkle with admiration. “Well, we’re lucky to have you on board.”

You and Sean spend the morning discussing various ideas and strategies, making detailed plans for the next steps. The atmosphere is filled with a sense of teamwork and shared excitement. Daniel, having finished his breakfast, listens in, occasionally chiming in with his own ideas.

“Maybe we could also host some community events at the garage,” Daniel suggests. “Like a car wash fundraiser or something. It would get people to come by and see the place.”

Sean nods, clearly impressed. “That’s a great idea, Daniel. We could raise some money and get more people familiar with what we do here.”

You add, “We could partner with local businesses for these events too. Maybe get some sponsorships and cross-promotions going. It would help build a network.”

As the morning progresses, you delve deeper into the logistics of your plans. Sean shows you around the garage, pointing out areas that could use improvement. You take notes, brainstorming ways to optimize the space and improve workflow.

“We could create a more inviting waiting area for customers,” you suggest. “Maybe add some comfortable seating, magazines, and free Wi-Fi. Make it a place where people don’t mind waiting.”

Sean nods thoughtfully. “I’ve been meaning to do something about that. It’s a great idea.”

Daniel grins. “And we could have a little corner with snacks and drinks. Everyone loves free snacks.”

You laugh. “Absolutely. It’s all about making the customer experience as pleasant as possible.”

By lunchtime, you’ve covered a lot of ground. Sean looks at you with appreciation. “I’m really impressed with all your ideas. This is going to make a huge difference.”

You feel a warm glow at his words. “I’m glad to be able to help. I really believe in what you’re doing here.”

Sean’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, his eyes full of unspoken thoughts. “I’m starting to believe in it even more now, thanks to you.”

The shared moment is interrupted by Daniel’s stomach growling loudly. He laughs, rubbing his belly. “Okay, I think it’s officially lunchtime. How about we hit up the local street food market? We can grab some tacos there and hand out flyers while we’re at it.”

You nod, grateful for the break. “Sounds perfect. I’ve been wanting to explore more of the town.”

Sean grabs a stack of freshly printed flyers. “Alright, let’s do this.”

The three of you pile into Sean’s old truck and drive to the bustling street food market in the heart of town. The vibrant colors and tantalizing smells greet you as you step out of the truck. Stalls line the streets, offering everything from sizzling tacos to sweet churros.

Sean hands you a stack of flyers. “Here, let’s spread out and see who we can talk to. Meet back at the taco stand in half an hour?”

You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As you wander through the market, you hand out flyers and strike up conversations with locals, telling them about the garage’s services and the upcoming community events. The warm reception you receive boosts your confidence.

After half an hour, you make your way to the taco stand where Sean and Daniel are already waiting. Sean hands you a taco with a grin. “I got you the special. Trust me, it’s amazing.”

You take a bite and moan with delight. “Oh wow, this is incredible.”

Daniel laughs. “Told you, the street food here is the best.”

As you eat, the three of you chat about the people you met and the responses you got. Sean seems particularly pleased. “I think this is really going to work. People are interested and excited.”

You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “I’m glad. This market is amazing, too. Thanks for bringing me here.”

Sean looks at you, his eyes warm. “Anytime. I’m really glad you’re part of this.”

Daniel nudges Sean playfully. “Yeah, we’re glad to have you around. Plus, it’s fun watching you two flirt.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, and Sean chuckles. “Oh, really? And here I thought we were being subtle.”

You laugh, enjoying the easy camaraderie. “Well, I’m glad to be here too.”

After lunch, you continue to explore the market, taking in the sights and sounds. Sean and Daniel introduce you to some of their favorite vendors, and you pick up a few treats to take home. The bustling market, with its vibrant stalls and lively atmosphere, is infectious, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the experience.

"Hey, there's this one store I think you'll love," Sean says, leading the way down a narrow alley. "They sell the most random and quirky stuff."

You follow Sean and Daniel to a small, cluttered shop that's packed to the brim with odd trinkets and peculiar items. The shop owner, an elderly man with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, greets you warmly.

"Welcome! Feel free to browse and have fun," he says, motioning to the chaotic array of items.

Daniel is the first to dive in, picking up a rubber chicken and squeezing it to make it squawk. "This place is amazing! Look at this stuff."

Sean chuckles, picking up a pair of oversized sunglasses and putting them on. "How do I look?"

You laugh, grabbing a feathered hat and placing it on your head. "Very stylish. I think we’ve found our new look."

The three of you spend the next hour rummaging through the store, trying on silly hats, testing out bizarre gadgets, and laughing at the strange and wonderful items you find. Sean finds an old Polaroid camera and starts taking candid pictures of you and Daniel, capturing the playful moments.

"Say cheese!" Sean calls out as he snaps a picture of you holding a giant stuffed banana.

Daniel grins, holding up a fake mustache. "This is the best day ever."

You nod, feeling a sense of camaraderie and joy. "I have to agree. This is so much fun."

Sean hands you one of the Polaroids, a picture of the three of you making funny faces. "A keepsake from our random adventure."

You take the photo, touched by the gesture. "Thanks, Sean. I’ll treasure this."

After purchasing a few of the more amusing items, including the rubber chicken for Daniel and the Polaroid camera for Sean, you leave the shop and continue to explore the market. The rest of the afternoon is filled with lighthearted moments, laughter, and a growing sense of connection between you, Sean, and Daniel.

As the sun begins to set, you head back to the Diaz house, your bags full of quirky treasures and your hearts full of happiness. The day has been perfect, but Sean has one more surprise in store.

After dropping off your bags and freshening up, Sean pulls you aside. “Hey, I was thinking... Daniel can stay home for a few hours, and there’s this little fiesta in town tonight. It’s something we do every weekend—lots of pretty lights, good music, dancing, and drinks. Would you like to go?”

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of spending more time with Sean. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to.”

Sean smiles, looking relieved and excited. He turns to Daniel. “Hey, bud, you okay staying home for a bit? We won’t be gone too long.”

Daniel nods, giving Sean a knowing look. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just don’t embarrass yourself too much, big brother.”

Sean chuckles, ruffling Daniel’s hair. “Thanks, buddy. We’ll be back before you know it.”

As you and Sean head out, the night air is cool and filled with the sounds of the town winding down for the evening. The streets are lit with twinkling lights, and there’s a buzz of excitement in the air. You feel a sense of anticipation and a bit of nervousness, but also a thrill of adventure.

The fiesta is in full swing by the time you arrive. Colorful lights are strung across the plaza, and the sound of lively music fills the air. People are dancing, laughing, and enjoying the festive atmosphere.

Sean takes your hand, leading you through the crowd. “I hope you like it. It’s one of my favorite parts of living here.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling a rush of warmth. “It’s beautiful, Sean. Thank you for bringing me.”

He leads you to a small bar where he orders drinks. “Two margaritas, please,” he says to the bartender. Turning to you, he adds with a grin, “These are the best in town. You have to try one.”

You take the drink, clinking glasses with him. “To new adventures.”

“To new adventures,” he echoes, his eyes twinkling in the festive lights.

As the evening progresses, the two of you wander around the fiesta, enjoying the music and the vibrant atmosphere. Sean seems to know everyone, stopping to chat and introduce you to his friends. You feel a sense of belonging, like you’re becoming part of this close-knit community.

After a while, the music shifts to a slower, more romantic tune. Sean turns to you, a playful glint in his eye. “Care to dance?”

You laugh, feeling a bit tipsy from the margaritas. “I’d love to.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. As you dance, the world around you seems to fade away. It’s just you and Sean, moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. His hand on your back feels warm and steady, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” you say, looking up at him.

He chuckles. “I have my moments. But you’re making me look even better.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, please. You’re just saying that.”

He grins, his eyes locking with yours. “No, I mean it. You’re amazing.”

The flirty banter continues, each compliment and playful tease making your heart race a little faster. The chemistry between you is undeniable, and the festive atmosphere only heightens the connection.

As the night goes on, you and Sean enjoy more drinks, each one making you both a bit more tipsy and carefree. Sean starts showing off his dance moves, and you can’t help but laugh at his playful antics.

You remember when Daniel told you about Sean trying to impress someone with his dancing at a party some time ago. “Oh, so are that the moves Daniel told me all about?” 

Sean, slightly unsteady but grinning widely, gives you a mock offended look. “Hey, I’m just having fun. I thought you’d be impressed.”

You join in the fun, playfully adding, “Yeah, Sean, I’m definitely impressed. You’re giving me some serious moves to aspire to.”

The banter continues, and the two of you laugh and dance together, the evening growing more lively and carefree. The combination of drinks and good company makes everything feel even more enjoyable.

By the time the fiesta starts winding down, you realize that you’re quite tipsy and Sean isn’t much better off. You stumble slightly as you make your way back to the Diaz house, leaning on Sean for support.

“Wow, I didn’t realize how much I’d had,” you giggle, leaning into Sean.

He chuckles, his arm around your shoulders for support. “Yeah, I guess we went a bit overboard. But hey, it was a blast.”

When you arrive at the Diaz house, Sean looks at you with a slightly concerned expression. “I don’t think you should drive home tonight. Maybe you can crash on the couch again?”

You nod, feeling a bit wobbly but content. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Sean helps you settle onto the couch, his touch gentle and comforting. “Let me just... find a blanket,” he says, fumbling through the closet.

You watch him with a grin. “Need any help there, or should I just use my jacket?”

Sean looks at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think I can manage. But thanks for the offer.”

Eventually, Sean manages to get the blankets sorted out, and you settle in. The combination of alcohol and exhaustion starts to take its toll, and soon, you’re all sprawled out on the couch, trying to get some rest. For a moment Sean just sits besides you, making sure you are comfortable and not about to throw up. 

Just as you’re starting to drift off, Daniel, who had been in his room, comes out and sees you all on the couch. “Can’t believe you two are passed out already,” he says with a grin. “Guess it was a pretty wild night.”

You chuckle, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, we may have had a bit too much fun.”

Daniel teases Sean, “Careful, Sean. If you keep this up, people might start thinking you’re a lightweight.”

Sean playfully nudges Daniel. “Oh, just wait until you’re older. Then you can join us in the ‘lightweight’ club.”

As the three of you laugh and chat quietly, the warmth of the night, the camaraderie, and the effects of the drinks make it hard to stay awake. Eventually, the conversation fades into comfortable silence, and you drift off to sleep on the couch, wrapped in the warmth of friendship and the lingering buzz of a perfect night out.

After a while, Sean and Daniel quietly rise from their spots on the couch. Sean looks down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “She’s out cold,” he whispers to Daniel.

Daniel, still half-asleep, nods. “Yeah, looks like it. I’ll head to bed now.”

Sean leads the way to their bedrooms, and Daniel follows. The house is quiet, the only sounds being the faint rustle of your breathing and the occasional creak of the floorboards.

As they enter Sean’s room, Daniel glances at his brother, curiosity evident in his eyes. “So, Sean...”

Sean raises an eyebrow. “What’s up, Danny?”

Daniel hesitates, then asks, “Do you think you and her might, you know, become more than friends?”

Sean chuckles softly, shaking his head. “It’s only been a few weeks. I really like her, but it’s way too soon to think about stuff like that.”

Daniel looks thoughtful. “But you do like her, right?”

“Yeah,” Sean admits, his voice warm. “I do like her. She’s great.”

Daniel ponders this for a moment, then asks, “What if she likes you back? Do you think she might want something more?”

Sean leans back against the wall, considering. “I think she enjoys spending time with me, but we’re both still figuring things out. It’s better to take things slow and see where it goes.”

Daniel nods, accepting his brother’s answer. “I guess that makes sense. You don’t want to rush into anything.”

Sean smiles at Daniel’s thoughtful expression. “Exactly. It’s important to build a solid foundation first.”

Daniel then asks, with a hint of teasing in his voice, “So, what if she’s your girlfriend and I become her little brother?”

Sean laughs, nudging Daniel playfully. “We’d all get along just fine. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Daniel grins, clearly amused. “Just wanted to know. It’s not every day I see my big brother with someone who makes him smile like that.”

Sean’s expression softens. “I know. And I’m happy she’s here. We’ll see where things go.”

With that, the two brothers bid each other goodnight. Sean heads to his room, while Daniel retreats to his own. The house settles into a quiet stillness, with only the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft rustle of the breeze outside breaking the silence.

As Sean lies in bed, he thinks about the night’s events and your growing connection. He’s glad to have you in his life, but he knows it’s important to let things develop naturally. He drifts off to sleep, a contented smile on his face, hopeful for what the future might hold.

authors note: this has been one of my favorite chapters to write so far!!! I hope you like this as well <33

[electraslight]

i always hate when i see people make posts on tumblr saying 'i hate it when people say they dont like the like button, blah blah insert funnypost about how you like seeing cute hearts or whatever' like artists and creatives on tumblr havent been struggling to get any sort of interaction or have any fun with this site for a while because no one reblogs anything or even sends asks. like i know youre trying to be silly but likes really are causing the downfall of interaction on the site. a lot of you guys are artists, and i bet you remember getting a lot of asks and interaction a year or two ago, even when you werent actively pandering to fandom interests (i know some of you do this now, i see you, i feel you, that's not healthy because it doesnt work either), and now most people's like to reblog ratio is crazy small. look at any art post, and you can see ratios like 17 to 100, 5 to 150, etc etc. and of course no asks, at least not from people who arent telling you to tag 'food warning' or tell you youre a horrible human being for shipping a one year age gap or whatever. and i get a lot of the point of those posts is that you shouldnt be upset that youre getting more likes than reblogs, because you should be happy that anyone likes your art enough to show you they like it, but i think an artist's urge to grow isn't as clout related as these people assume. its wanting more people to see your work, to interact with it. to feel something from it, and the dry well of interaction has made a lot of people move away from the site, because tumblr interactions always felt so personal and so community driven, and now there's no interaction besides harassment. it's not a sin to want your art to be seen, and it's not 'clout goblin behavior' to want members of your community to interact with you and your work. 'likes are interaction too' doesnt matter, because no one gets anything from the interaction besides number go up, which you may find cute and funny, but cute and funny didnt help me meet my best friends, come up with new concepts, have my art feel wanted. Interaction did. And this site has no algorithm, so reblog things you like, type everything you can think of in the tags, comment, send inane asks, or a lot of your favorite artists, creatives, even mutuals just blogging, wont hang around for long

[livingbrother]

LO and it's portrayal of S/A

A rant by someone who just finished EP. 98 and is incredibly furious

Cw: Mentions of S/A, it's effects, too much swearing, ED mention, personal stuff that happened to yours truly, lots of other stuff too, just no idea what to tag it as

Don't read this if you're not mentally doing well, I don't want you getting hurt because of my post, I love you, feel better soon

Boy. Oh fucking boy. I just got through episode 98 of this shit show and, I'll just say, I am beyond furious. Livid, in fact.

For context, I am a survivor or sexual abuse and mental abuse, I have dealt with those who act sort of like Apollo, I was never raped, but I was molested as a child. I, as a survivor, feel nothing but rage at how Rachel portrayed Apollo being a rapist. The way he acts is incredibly unrealistic for an abuser, as somebody who dealt with two abusers with Narcissistic Personality Disorder (I'm not saying everyone who has NPD are villains, I'm just saying what I went through), I see what Rachel was trying, but oh so tragically failed, to do. He tried to control, manipulate, and gaslight Persephone. Only for none of it to work, that's not how ANY of it fucking works!

Where is the fucking control, other than just fucking raping her? I get he wants to take the power away from her and be the one to control her, but I've seen none of that! I get she has PTSD over it (I'LL GET TO THIS POINT AGAIN). I NEVER GOT THE SENSE THAT SHE WAS POWERLESS EXCEPT FOR THAT ONE SCENE. I HAVE NEVER SEEN HER QUESTION IF THAT WAS HIS INFLUENCE PICKING HER DRESSES, OR FUCKING EVEN HER FOOD! WHEN I WAS LIVING WITH ONE OF MY ABUSERS, SHE'D PICK OUT MY OUTFITS, ONE'S I HATED, AND I STILL CHOOSE SOME OF THOSE OUTFITS, TO THIS DAY! WHERE WAS HER LOSS OF CONTROL? SHE NEVER FELT ISOLATED, SHE NEVER FELT LIKE SHE WAS TRAPPED. YES. SHE WAS TRAPPED IN THAT ONE ROOM WITH HIM, BUT EVEN THEN! SHE HAD LEVERAGE OVER HIM WITH THE FUCKING LYRE. Ugh.

About her realizing she was raped, um. Excuse me? A lot of victims don't realize they were raped or abused until like, months or years later. I'm glad for the ones who instantly realized it, good for them. Given Persephone's personality and experience with the world, she wouldn't have known it was rape because she's not accustomed to dating and sexual culture. On top of that, she isn't really seen actually distressed when she remembers, oh, and lets not forget that she WAS FUCKING FINE WITH TOUCH AND PHYSICAL FLIRTING DAYS AFTER HER ASSAULT. Let me remind you that I have been through this thing myself, you do not just omg I was just assaulted! time to go let someone touch me! Nonono, you spend years jumping when people touch you, years of moving when someone tries to grab your shoulder, years of pushing someone's hand off your arm, years screaming when you get a hug. And then, maybe from flashbacks, maybe from googling things, you discover you were molested! And then it alllllll makes sense. I understand if she became hypersexual, cause same, but that usually doesn't set in until a good long while.

I also hate how Apollo is written, he should have stayed as a shitty ex boyfriend or whatever the fuck Rachel was gonna make him, he just comes across as a cartoonish villain than an abuser. The man just fucking rubs his hands together and fucking goes I'll get you next time my pretty! I fucking HATE his writing so goddamn much. I understand wanting to make him pushy, egotistical, and insecure, they're some of the hallmarks of the pushy nice guy she was going for. But when it comes to him being abusive, it's like watching a bad joke. Rapists don't usually, you know, CATCH FEELINGS FOR THEIR VICTIM (correct me if I'm wrong), unless it's to lure them back in to hurt them again. She made him so obviously evil it hurts, abusers don't usually act that way, they put on a pretty smile, act kind, and behind closed doors, act shitty. I respect 97-98 for getting that part right, but too many times, too many fucking times Rachel has gotten that wrong. I have dealt with this myself, my mother did this exact thing, she even put on the pretty smile for me so even I, somebody who knew he was being tormented, questioned whether or not I was being abused! We never see this with Persephone! We never see her getting gaslit with this, she never questions her reality! She knows everything that's going on for sure! I know what Rachel was aiming for, and she failed miserably!

God, on top of this, we never really get to see Persephone's PTSD unless the story fuckin says Apollo's here! She's never really fucking affected by her rape, we don't see her jump from touches, refuse sexual advanced from Hades, yeah, sure, we see her afraid of camera flashes, but that's about it!!!!!!!! She never really experiences the effects of s/a! I developed an ED and agoraphobia from my abuse! Where the fuck is that?! That would have been a lot more fucking interesting than the slop we fucking got!

I know I've missed some things, but I need to calm down before I pop a blood vessel. I might revisit this post when I'm less angry, I just needed to rant.