#i was thinking about this and it made me realize that we never see any overlap with povs

[somnoir]

Prodigal son beyond time - Part 1

Ra's Al Ghul had a son. No, it's not Dusan we spoke of right now. Ra's Al Ghul's first born child was a peculiar boy that was forged by the Lazarus Pits—or so what he says.

Talia has never met her brother.

Her brother, it has been years since she's found out about him yet her father never gives them a name—he thinks them unworthy of it. Even if he was not present, her brother continues to be the favorite, to be the child their father praised most. His absence is a glaring hole in her father's heart (though she is not sure if he has one).

It is no secret amongst the league that Ra's nameless son was unofficially the heir, even when Damian was born.

Talia has doubted her brother's distance many times, and yet she finds evidence of him over and over again.

Her father writes letters, strange ones that vary in language, dialect, grammar, writing styles. She did not mean to read one when she was young, but she couldn't help herself when she had seen it.

My dearest, son of mine,

It has been an age since last I beheld your presence. I find it most disquieting that you have not seen fit to visit, though I am not ignorant of how poorly time aligns itself with your affairs. Yet still, I dare to hope that you might bestow upon me a portion of your time, if but briefly.

Your siblings have inquired after you once more. Yet I am acutely aware that it would be unwise to bind you to this mortal realm for too great a span. Their hearts, tender and unfortified, lack the endurance I possess to weather the long absences your path necessitates. Nevertheless, I am not blind to the hope you carry—to one day stand before them, whether that moment lies near or far in the veiled expanse of time.

She could not finish the lengthy letter before the letter vanished from her hand, a burst of green and strange liquid slipping from her fingers. Talia had been startled, too young, assuming that this was Lazarus water that has stolen her father's letter.

And she found her father looming behind her, his expression stern get there was amusement in his eyes.

"Your brother is a curious person." Her father hummed, "He's powerful."

"We are not... Allowed to meet him?"

"Not yet. Until you steel your hearts." Ra's nodded, "Your brother does not stay in one place for long. But he is soft hearted and loyal to the family. You give him reason to stay and he will stay."

His hand, firm and guidind, pressed against her shoulder in a tight grip. "And I will not let any of you weaken him."

On that day, Talia realized that her father truly did love her brother. In his own strange way.

The next time she reads a letter, Damian was but a babe of one, cradled in her arms as a letter written on green paper rested in her father's hand. It was open, the wax seal carefully sliced from the envelope.

"Father."

"Talia." He replied nonchalantly, eyes flicking to Damian, his eyes softening momentarily as a longing look slipped to the letter.

Talia's heart tightened, resentful that her father was beginning to see his favorite child on her own son. She could not allow that...

"Your brother has written to me. It has been... Almost a year... Since the last." Ra's hummed, turning to Talia, then Damian, before flicking yet another letter to her. It startled her.

"From your brother." Ra's sighed, "I made the mistake of writing about Damian and now he wishes to meet you first. Not Nyssa, not Dusan—you."

"My brother?" Talia hesitantly accepted the letter. "I do not even know his name..."

Ra's clicked his tongue, "He signed it in his name. You will know from that letter." He paused, glancing back at her. "You have yet to prove yourself worthy, Talia, but... Damian's birth will surely being your brother back home."

Talia's heart palpitated in her chest.

The prospect of her baby, her son, her child—the mere thought that her baby would be the thing that successfully brings her brother home was... Outstanding.

"Read it in your own time... After that, seek me out."

Talia does not know... What to particularly do...

But she takes Damian, watches as her father leaves, and hurries along to her own quarters.

Talia tucks her son into the crib, narrowing her eyes at the nursemaids that were hired to nurture her son. She dismissed them immediately, watching as they silently leave the room. It is only when silence reigns does she takes a seat on her bed as Damian slumbers in his crib.

(Her hands tremble as the letter rested in her hands. It was light, not heavy, her her hands tremble as if she could not handle the weight.)

She takes in a deep breath, takes a dagger and carefully slices it away from envelope. It's intricately made.

The letter is written in the same green paper that her father received.

The letter read as thus:

My Dearest Talia, It would seem that I am now to be regarded as your brother, for Ra's has deemed me his son. Admittedly, this turn of events is of my own doing, as I endeared myself to him centuries past and found solace in his companionship, coming to view him as a father in truth. Yet you, his daughter by blood, remain a stranger to me, as do Nyssa and Dusan. How peculiar it is that Father should act in such a manner, withholding such introductions with his customary inscrutability.

She takes in a deep breath, awes by her brother's penmaniship... And then suddenly the writing style changes. Morphing from the olden age, the formality of a noble, to...

Anyways! Since you're my sister, I don't think I have to keep writing to you the same way Ra's does. It feels awkward to me, y'know?

She was not expecting that change but...

I've always wanted to meet you all. But my duties to my realm are hard. I can't freelt leave. It's especially worse since my world's time doesn't correlate to yours.

You might find the change of writing styles weird, but in all honesty, I'm from the 21st century. It's just that time never did agree with me. Had to comply with the old man on writing like that since he likes it. Weird, right?

But anyways! I heard you had a son! Congrats by the way. I'd like to meet him too, actually. Aside from that, I heard from Ra's you don't know my name.

Well, he's decided to call my Danyal as it's the Arabic version of my original name "Daniel". Though I often go by my nickname Danny. But it has been a delight to write to you, Talia. Hopefully, I'll be able to meet you and your son in the future.

Since you have my name now, you can write me letters too! It'll find me eventually.

Your brother,

Danny

Her brother's name was Danyal... Her brother went by Danny.

Talia blinked.

Her strange brother was a being that traversed through time, a person who was born in the 21st century... Her brother could be somewhere in the world in that moment and in another time the next.

She pressed the letter to her lips, unable to hold back her smile.

She had quite the silly brother...

And amongst her siblings, Talia was the first to know her brother's name. That bit about being able to write letters to him made her finally understand why her father was so possessive of a name.

(In the Infinite realms, High King Phantom received a letter from his estranged younger sister. He really didn't mean to find family in the Demon's head, but he found it anyways.)

Part 2 | Masterlist

[kathleenkatmary]

This is really is not by any means new. When I was a kid in the 1990s and early 2000s, I thought my family was middle class because my parents said we were. It wasn't until I was in my 20s that I realizes we were 'lower class' and always had been. And talking to my parents helped me realize that their thought process around the thing was a messy melange that even they didn't really seem to understand. When we talked about things like how they accept money from the nuns at the school my mom taught at to be able to afford Christmas gifts for my and my brother more than once and there were times when we were in real danger of losing the house, there did seem to be a very real awareness that, no, this was not the experience of a middle class family.

But when I asked them why they always said and acted like they were middle class, I got a mishmash of explanations. The financial situation of my dad's family was much worse when he was a kid, so he figured anything better than that was a class upgrade, and while my mom's family's situation when she was a child was better than ours, she didn't see our situation as that much worse, so she just kind of saw it as being on the same level. We always had food on the table and we never "worried" about stuff like that, even though sometimes it meant taking charity from the people my mom worked with, so it didn't seem right to them to act like we were in the "same situation" as people who did have to regularly worry about food. They bought a house, however falling apart it was, so how could they be lower class? And there was a lot more of that, that sort of "well, we still had these necessities, even if we had to struggle for them, so we can't really put ourselves on the same level as people who did" mindset.

And I noticed that even though they didn't explicitly say it, there seemed to be a lot of shame associated with the idea of being lower class. Which I don't think would come to a surprise to anyone, especially for people who was around in the 1980s and 1990s. As much as that sentiment that poverty is a personal failing is still alive and well today, it was so prevalent back then. That idea that if you were poor, if you were lower class, it was entirely because of the decisions you made, your own failings. Can't pay your rent or mortgage? Well, what did you do wrong to put yourself in that position? Can't afford to keep your kids fed? God, you're such a bad parent, why don't you make better choices that put your kids first?

And I don't think that lumping in better off middle class people in with the upper class is new either. Resentment toward people with more has always been a thing. And when you do have so little and you are seeing things through that resentment, it can be really easy to look at someone who has so much more than you and not really see the distinction between them and someone who is truly wealthy.

This loose grasp of class definitions, people assuming themselves to be middle class when they're not, and not being able to see the distinctions in wealth is by no means a new thing that's only just starting to happen with the younger generations. It's always been around, I just think that the shape it's taken has shifted with the way the culture has shifted. But that sort of "I have a roof over my head and I can feed myself so I must be middle class" mindset and the "those people have a lot more than I do so they're just as bad as the billionaires who are actively ruining our lives" ideas aren't new at all. It at least goes back to the baby boomers, and really, considering the stark class divides of the early 20th century, I'd wager that it probably goes back even before them.

And that makes sense, because it's clearly proven to be an effective method of the ruling class.

Ive noticed recently that my generation has... no concept of what the various economic classes actually are anymore. I talk to my friends and they genuinely say things like "at least i can afford a middle class lifestyle with this job because i dont need a roommate for my one bedroom apartment" and its like... oughh

You guys, middle class doesnt mean "a stable enough rented roof over your head," it means "a house you bought, a nice car or two, the ability to support a family, and take days off and vacations every year with income to spare for retirement savings and rainy days." If all you have is a rented apartment without a roommate and a used car, you're lower class. That's lower class.

And i cant help but wonder if this is why you get kids on tumblr lumping in doctors and actors into their "eat the rich" rhetoric: economic amnesia has blinded you to what the class divides actually are. The real middle class lifestyle has become so unattainable within a system that relies upon its existence that theyve convinced you that those who can still reach it are the elites while your extreme couponing to afford your groceries is the new normal.

[tsukimefuku]

CHAPTER THREE PT. II: DIMINISHED CAPACITY ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni! | oopsie, is that... a special banner? gee I wonder if there's something to see at the end of this chapter, huh?

❀ diminished capacity.

Diminished capacity refers to an individual’s impossibility to form the intent necessary for committing any criminal act, because their capacity to fully comprehend the nature of their actions is impaired. It doesn’t, however, completely exclude their responsibility, and they may be held accountable to a lesser offense.

wc: 5.5K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. slow-burn romcom. professor and college student pre-relationship. internship interviews suck. nobara likes to steal food from people. mentions of hypothetical violent crime. nanami gets pestered by gojo even here. higuruma likes sunflowers. nanami has a sixth sense.

❀ notes etc.

Apologies to any colleagues reading the word “evidence” in place of “proof” and feeling like tackling me with a broom, lol. Also, a huge thanks to everyone who came around for part one, I hope you guys get to enjoy reading this just as much I enjoyed writing it.

Argh… Monday.

Internship hunt was hell. There was no other way to spin that wheel. You knew it’d be incredibly hard, but not this hard.

Mondays were cursed days, but to know that not only cursed, they’d also start with terrible interviews — plural — was not in your bingo card for this week. Between  oh, you just started criminal law I this semester? and we will let you know laid the crumbling sounds of your utmost despair of knowing full well you were in for a ride for those next few days.

Well, if only daydreaming about him could save you.

It didn’t, though.

Unfortunately.

You arrived at the campus cafeteria where you were supposed to meet Nobara. Even on a fairly uncomfortable chair, she slouched nearly enough to slide down onto the ground like a rag doll, and it didn’t take you much to realize these past few days were throwing her through the wringer too.

“You look like death,” you joked as you pulled your chair to sit with her, putting your tuna sandwich and can of soda over the table.

“And you look like… like… hmph,” she scoffed while rolling her eyes and propping herself back up again.

“No snarky comeback? Are you that tired?” 

“Leave me alone,” she replied, and apparently, she really wasn’t in the mood for playful banter. You took a bite out of your sandwich, pondering if you should ask her about it, but she beat you to it. “Why is getting internships this early in college is so damn hard?”

“Apparently, places don’t trust complete newbies or youngsters,” you noted, “and they want someone who has already studied all the necessary subjects prior to hiring. Also, people with prior experience are preferred.” 

“Yet these are internship opportunities! Aren’t interns supposed to be newbies who are going to learn from the experience they’ll get through the internship?” Nobara irritatedly inquired, her implied commentary more a complaint than a question. You nodded.

“Absolutely. It makes no sense, it’s like they’re just trying to hire a junior lawyer with less rights and a lower pay rate,” you churned out through your mouthful of tuna and mayonnaise, “now that I think about it, it’s probably that, actually.” 

“I can’t go back home! I mean, I made it all the way here. If I had to go back I would never get over this. I need some money, and I need some money soon, otherwise this will all just have been a waste of my time. I should just get a part time job already instead of insisting in starting my internship as fast as possible.” 

Nobara covered her face, and she sounded genuinely upset. You paused your munching for a bit, and after washing it all down with a few gulps of soda, you leaned towards her, pulling her hands from her face.

“Hey, Nobara, we’re not letting that happen, okay? Neither me, Maki, Yuuji or Megumi.” you offered in an attempt to comfort her. She let you peel her palms away, and gazed at you in a mixture of frustration and anger, which softly subsided after your comment. You decided to push your luck, just a bit. “We can refugee you in Megumi’s car. We’ll get you a hammer so you can hit passerbies for shits and giggles to let some collegiate steam out.” 

Consternated, she shook your hands off of her while you chuckled. She made her best effort to still look pissed, but you noticed a tiny smile forming on the edges of her mouth.

“That’s a shit plan, but I’ll take you up on that hammer offer,” she said, and you smiled at her, a gesture she finally reciprocated.

“I’d expect no less from you. So, tell me, in which area are you looking for internships? Fashion law?” 

“Nope, entertainment.” Nobara picked your half eaten sandwich in her hands and took a bite before you could protest. “Maki had told me it was easier to get internships in entertainment law to garner some experience for a future in fashion law, but honestly? I’m skeptical now.” 

“There might be some openings soon. Have you tried Professor Gojo’s firm? It’s the same as Professor Nanami’s, isn’t it? I mean, that giant firm with dozens of departments and that nearly every teacher at our college seems to work for.” You stretched your hand to get your sandwich back, but she slapped you away. “Hey!” 

“I need it more than you, I’m sad!” 

“I’m sad too! I had four terrible internship interviews today, give it back!” 

You both entered a silly slapping match, and the few people walking past the table would look away nervously in fear of getting dragged into the middle of whatever war was going on over a cheap cafeteria tuna sandwich.

“You were having interviews today too?! How come you never told me?! I’m gonna eat your food for not telling me stuff, you’ve been weird ever since that party that you went off for a smoke and dipped!” She took another humongous bite and you jumped over the table, finally snatching whatever remained of your food out of her hands.

“I haven’t been weird!” you had, “and yes, I did. I am interviewing for internship openings in criminal law, but… well, you’ve been through that these days yourself. You know the drill.” 

She grunted with tuna smeared around her mouth, trying to reach for the rest of your sandwich, and it was your turn to slap her.

“Stop it, Nobara. Quit being so stingy and buy one for yourself!” 

“Not when I can eat your food for free,” she joked while taking a big gulp from your soda can, and you sighed, which only gave her a shit eating grin. “Did you interview for that spot they announced today?” 

“What? What opening?”

“I just saw it, there was a new flyer on the main hall board. It’s an internship for criminal law, apparently under the guidance of Professor Geto,” Nobara said while shrugging. “Apparently the huge firm now has a criminal law department too. It was announced last week or so.” 

“Did it say up until when they were taking applications?” 

***

Each and every tendon in your body tensed as you sat with the perfect lady-like crossed ankles at the 45º angle under your second-hand suit. The meeting room was, for the lack of a better word, mighty, having an entire glass wall peering into the rest of the office, and towered over you high enough to have you feeling like a tiny speck of dust humbly drifting its way over the clearly expensive brown, leather couch. A few people walked by as you waited, and the mahogany table seemed big enough to fit three people. It was probably worth your entire year’s tuition, and you wondered if the ceiling height really needed to be tailored for elves. Or ents. Tree people, perhaps.

The firm’s name hung high right in front of you, the logo and letters made out of stainless steel illuminated by LEDs behind it. Opulence wasn’t a big enough word to describe that pompous display of corporate wealth.

You were fished out of your rags to riches daydreams by the pivoting door opening, figuring it was your interviewer for the position. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the already well-known foxy-eyed, long haired Professor to come in, but a much more stoic individual with the polar opposite for a hair, not only in length but in color too. You already knew him from afar, as your commercial law Professor. He carried himself in a dignified manner, and upon further inspection, not only was his navy blue suit absolutely pristine, he also didn’t have a single hair strand out of place. You got up to greet him, bowing respectfully, and he returned the gesture.

“Good afternoon, Mrs.,” he said as he sat down on his chair across from you, “my name is Nanami Kento and I’ll be responsible for your interview today.”

You introduced yourself, and remarked, “apologies, but I thought Prof- I mean, Mr. Geto would be the one responsible for this interview today.”

 “As it stands currently, the criminal law department is my responsibility,” Nanami clarified, “so I decided I’d be the one responsible for interviewing our future team. I currently work in our corporate law department.”

You acquiesced with a professional smile. Something about how every tiny detail in him was on point gave you enough leads to conclude that of course this man took it upon himself to be the one responsible for the interviews.

“I’ve read in your resume that you are currently undertaking criminal law I and criminal procedure law I,” Nanami said as he held your resume in his hand, glancing at you and then at the paper, “which isn’t ideal for an intern entering a newly built department.”

Harsh enough?

You readjusted yourself on your chair before speaking.

“Yes, I am.”

He hummed quietly and pulled another paper sheet from his briefcase, and even if his facial expression was perfectly collected, something about how the edges of his lips curled gave away that he was less than happy about whatever was written on it.

“Our HR insisted I should bring this questionnaire with me today, so that I could ask you this list of questions as part of our interview,” he stated, his words followed by a quiet sigh. Nanami then proceeded to tilt the paper towards him and took a moment before proceeding. “Tell me more about yourself in three… captivating anecdotes.”

His voice sounded robotic, as if he was feigning not to loathe the question at hand, and deep down, you did find it amusing. Not enough to distract yourself from the fact that you were usually horrible at interviews altogether, though.

“I’m currently in my late twenties. I started law school last year, and worked during my early twenties to save money for tuition. I’m really passionate about criminal law, that is why I applied.”

Oh, God. What was that?

Well, you sounded robotic too, listing off obvious factualities as if providing a recipe’s ingredients. Both of you stared at each other in silence, wondering if that was what this question was supposed to infer, and it took the two of you so long to speak up again that it became uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat, Nanami unconsciously loosened his tie — barely — before continuing.

Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s uncomfortable.

“What…” he paused for a moment, and seemed to be biting down a discontented sigh, “animal would you be?” His gaze quickly darted down the sheet of paper, and his displeasure was palpable. For someone with such a straight face, his eyes were very telling.

What are these questions? Are we a hip tech company? Nanami thought to himself, wondering if he should make a new list to leave at HR. He was quick to discard the thought once he realized that meant he’d be telling other people how to do their jobs, something he did enough of already.

You didn’t quite know what the hell to answer.

“I… don’t know? I haven’t really thought about that in my life? A cat, perhaps?”

“I haven’t thought about that either, don’t worry, that’s unimportant. Let’s move on to the next question. How…” Nanami lifted an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to tell he was absolutely consternated, “many basketballs can fit inside a bus?”

“… Huh?”

Is this serious?

“I apologize, I believe there must have been some sort of mix-up at the HR, let me…”

Nanami was interrupted by three knocks on the glass wall. You both turned your heads to see Professor Gojo pointing at something — the paper Nanami held in his hands — while subsequently making a thumbs up, a wide grin smeared all over his face.

Without uttering a word nor missing a beat, Nanami got up, walked towards the glass and pulled on something you hadn’t yet noticed. Immediately, blinds slowly descended in front of the glass wall, and Nanami calmly walked his way back to his chair as Gojo’s face tried to keep peering inside the meeting room, descending alongside the rim of the blinds. He kept plastering his hands over the glass like a mimic.

A faint pained moan and a thud echoed once the blinds were about a foot away from reaching the floor.

“Is everything okay?” you inquired, pointing at Gojo’s direction.

“Ignore that.”

That wasn’t a request. You nodded. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect. Let’s also ignore this for a while,” Nanami remarked while putting the sheet of questions aside with his fingertips as if it was radioactive. “Let’s try something else.”

Nanami had this feeling — a familiar one — that he’d be able to pry from you what he needed to know if he went about this interview in a more practical fashion. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I’m going to describe a hypothetical scenario, and I want you to debate it with me,” he stated.

“Okay.”

“A client comes to this office being investigated of homicide and he wants to hire the firm to represent them in Court. They intend to plead not guilty.” you nodded, and Nanami continued, “The victim was shot, but there was no gun to be found in the crime scene. However, the client was the only person in the vicinity apart from the victim’s body. The client’s clothes — a long sleeved shirt and jeans — are evidence that has been collected at the crime scene, but no forensics were requested for it by the prosecution. When questioned in their first meeting, the client is adamant that they did not commit the crime. The attorney needs to decide which path to take regarding evidence they’ll request or submit. Now, I ask you, which type of evidence would the attorney request if the client is truly innocent?”

You took a deep breath while mentally going over the hypothetical scenario Nanami had just relayed, and considering all he mentioned, there was only one possibility.

“If my client was truly innocent, I’d ask for forensic evidence on their clothes. Guns leave gunpowder vestiges on things like clothes, so if this person didn’t actually pull the trigger, there should be no gunpowder on their sleeves.”

Nanami acquiesced, but remained silent. 

Ok, this is not the only thing he wants to know.

“Also… I’d tell exactly that to the client.”

Nanami’s face remained completely expressionless, but something about how he tilted his head less than an inch gave you the feeling that he seemed pleased with your answer.

“And why would you do that?”

“We need to work with accurate information. If the client was lying, and we submitted a request for that evidence — forensics on their clothes — we’d be tanking their defense. They need to know what we’ll be submitting as evidence and why. I believe telling that to our client would be enough to sway them into telling us the truth,” you sighed, before concluding, “people lie. Even when they shouldn’t.”

Nanami silently picked your resume back into his hands, and seemed to scan it quickly with his eyes. You knew your chances were slim, considering you had just started Criminal Law that very semester, something he didn’t fail to notice.

After a minute, he spoke again.

“Would you be willing to use some of your spare time to study topics you might not have seen yet in criminal law?”

“Yes.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest. This was it.

Here goes nothing.

“Then, it’s settled. Can you start on Monday?”

***

This wasn’t Higuruma’s usual go-to wish when he found himself behind the Passo’s wheel, but truth of the matter was, he hoped more than anything for his car to breakdown before he got to his destination. It wasn’t something completely out of the question considering his car’s track record, but as if some destiny’s mockery had been bestowed upon him that morning, even the clack-clack-clacks he was already used to hear for the past three months were gone. As Murphy’s Law would have it, the Passo glided over the asphalt like butter. 

“Of course you won’t fail me when I need you to, you unreliable piece of-”he muttered to himself under a discontented huff.

Put upon wasn’t strong enough to convey how Higuruma was feeling, his knuckle-white grip around the steering wheel being enough to give him a sharp pain in his palms that would surely follow him for the next few hours. In a sense, he had been knuckle-white tense ever since that morning, thinking about this endeavor he was kicking himself to push through. It was the nth time he’d tried to make that visit over the past year, one that he dreaded with each and every fiber of his being. 

The Professor eyed his passenger’s seat for a second, his gaze lingering on the plastic bag he carried with him that day. Inside, there were a bottle of Kirin, an incense, and a single sunflower. The flower was definitely too long to fit properly inside the bag, and it’s head peeped though the opening, yellow petals flickering while the car moved, every ridge on the road seemingly making it jump further and further out of its container.

With one hand on the wheel, and the other reaching out, he tried shoving the sunflower back into the bag, and in between eyeing the bag, then the road, picking the flower, pushing it, the bag sliding off the seat, loud news coming on the radio, Higuruma getting startled, his glasses slipping down his nose bridge, him pushing them back in place with his shoulder, tires screeching, a car horn, his heart pounding and his ears ringing, Higuruma came to the sensible conclusion that he should, as any responsible adult would, take a break.

I need a smoke.

Who he was visiting was definitely not going anywhere.

Checking where he was, Higuruma noticed a cafe nearby, and as fate would have it, there was a single parking spot right in front of it. He maneuvered the Passo, and the car fit neatly in between the white lines. Higuruma pulled his sunflower shawl — this time, not caught under any death trap, but laid over his back seat  alongside your scarf —, threw it around his neck and got out. He took a moment to stretch his fingers in the cold air, his breath clouding in front of his mouth, and tapped around his coat to take his wallet, finally inserting some coins into the park meter and crossing the guardrail by the sidewalk. 

He’d have exactly thirty minutes to get his shit together.

The cafe was warm, inviting, and strangely familiar, its orange light almost emanating the smell of coffee beans, croissants and decadent redemption for weary travelers. The store front had a glass display through which he saw an assortment of sweet and salty baked goods. Higuruma would probably pick one of those to eat — the greasiest one, if possible —, had he not been carrying a rock in place of his stomach for the past few hours.

With his resolution waning, he mindlessly took a step back while peeping, and sighed, his tired sigh weighing on his body deciding for him that an espresso was probably the way to go.

Stepping inside, Higuruma paid no mind to whatever was around him, and waited for his turn in line to order his drink. Across from him, you nearly choked, half a donut shoved into your powdered-sugar smeared mouth, nearly spilling your own coffee over your second-hand suit.

After your interview, you thought it’d be a good idea to have a snack, and made your way inside the closest, warmest, coziest cafe you found, which was across the firm. 

At that moment, you found yourself in a cliché adult life predicament — you just saw someone you knew, but they didn’t see you. Should you go over to greet them? Should you not? Would simply leaving be rude? Should you go actually talk to the man you definitely had — and shouldn’t have — a crush on?

You clutched your coffee harder as the thoughts flew around in your mind, as second nature at this point to avoid giving him another beverage shower.

After some quick consideration, you decided you would at least say hello, after all, it was the polite thing to do. You shoved the rest of your food into your mouth, washed it all down with the rest of your coffee, haphazardly cleaned around your mouth with a napkin and slowly walked towards him, stopping a few feet away. Somehow, he still hadn’t seen you, apparently too immersed in thought.

That was when you noticed a shawl around his neck.

It was pretty damn ugly.

“Professor, hi!” you greeted, and Higuruma got yanked out of whatever daydreams — or waking nightmares — he had been simmering in while waiting in line.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to meet anyone here,” Higuruma replied, “I just stopped by for a snack.”

“Oh, nice. Their coffee is pretty good,” you said, “I got the espresso.”

“And… I hope that you’re finished already? With your coffee, I mean.” he asked while checking your hands, his usually unaffected tone slightly playful, earning him a chuckle from you.

“Rest assured, I’m not assaulting you nor your ugly shawl with my coffee,” you quipped, but his eyes only widened. His owlish eyes blinked once, and then twice, in absolute silence.

That was when you realized.

Oh. I said that out loud.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Awfully hypocritical of both of us, huh?” he noted, with a discreet smile pulling on his lips. 

Relieved, realizing he hadn’t taken offense, you sheepishly returned his smile, “I guess so. I don’t think I’ll get to keep being hypocritical about our ugly scarfs, though. I can’t seem to find mine, it’s been gone ever since that party.”

It was like a light bulb went on in Higuruma’s mind, and he cleared his throat before saying, “well, I may just prove you wrong. Follow me.”

Not fully understanding what he meant by that, you stood by him while he paid for his coffee, got it and walked outside. The cold winter breeze prickled your cheeks and your uncovered neck like hair-thin razor blades, and you followed Higuruma towards a car that wasn’t all that strange to you. Upon further inspection, you noticed that it was indeed his car, the old navy blue beat up thing you used as a shield for the wind during that night when you tried and failed at least half a dozen times to light a cigarette.

And then met him, and gave him a vodka scare.

And helped patting him dry with your-

“Here,” he called out, opening the door to the back seat. Sure enough, you saw that red, frizzly old thing tangled up in a ball.

“My scarf!” you reached inside and took it out, instantly throwing it around your neck. Higuruma noticed how you were genuinely pleased to have finally found it, and thought to himself that he’d most likely feel the same way if he ever lost and found his beat up, old shawl. 

It was just one of those things imbued with a sense of history and familiarity that only beat up, old tokens from days past had.

“Thank you,” you whispered, while sliding your fingers through the worn out cotton. “It was a gift. I might complain about it more often than not, but-”

“But it’s an important part of your life,” he replied, and you both glanced at each other while you nodded.

“Yes. Something like that. It’s my favorite curse to carry around while complaining about it, you know?” you mused, adjusting it around your neck and gratefully welcoming the warmth it brought around your neck. 

“I think I do,” he answered finally, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Let me repay you,” you offered. “Can I offer you a snack, or anything? Perhaps a smoke?”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer,” he replied, and you pulled your pack out of your coat. Giving it a few taps, a cigarette popped up, and you took it in your lips, pulling another one and handing it to him.

Against his better judgement, Higuruma was slightly disappointed, and for a second, felt like kicking himself over it.

Idiot, you can’t seriously be expecting her to light a cigarette for me every time she offers you a smoke. Actually, I shouldn’t expect that at all.

 Against his will, Higuruma felt his cheeks warming up, and he tried his best to dive his face into his shawl while politely took the cigarette off your hands. You didn’t notice his moves and offered him your lighter — the same yellow, disposable one he had given you days ago. He picked it up, lit his cigarette and returned it.

“I see you still have it,” Higuruma noted, smiling gently, and you acquiesced.

“It has been my faithful companion for these past few weeks. I’m just glad I haven’t lost it like I lost my scarf,” you said before chuckling.

Higuruma leaned over the guardrail with his elbows, finally relaxing after… God knows how long. Slowly, he seemed to be getting lost in thought, and you seized the opportunity to better look at his shawl.  It had a sunflower pattern that went in a straight line right in front of it.

Still looking around as he stewed in his silent contemplations, you noticed there was a bag laying on top of his passenger’s seat. Peeping through it, stood a single sunflower, and what seemed to be the top of a Kirin bottle.

A sunflower man, hm?

The thought amused you as the corners of your mouth perked up in a gleeful smile, but you were quickly pulled out from it.

“Do you work nearby?” he asked, while taking a drag from his cigarette. “This is far from campus.”

“No. I mean, not yet. I was just… chasing my dreams,” you remarked, puffing some smoke. “What about you, Professor?”

Higuruma chuckled softly.

“I was being haunted by mine.”

You must’ve looked puzzled, because he quickly amended, “I was just on my way to visit someone and took a break for some coffee, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see,” you replied, realizing you were probably getting in his way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from your appointment. I-”

“It’s okay, there’s no one waiting for me. Or so I like to think.”

That comment left you with more questions than answers.

“Apologies. I don’t mean to keep you from going about the rest of your day too,” he bid behind a curtain of smoke, “and thank you for the cigarette. I really needed it.”

With your final puffs, you put your cigarette out and smiled at Higuruma.

“It’s okay, Professor. I should really get going, though. We are, indeed, far from campus and I’d like to get to my dorm before it’s dark.”

With a bow, you walked away, leaving Higuruma to his own devices. He sighed, alone with himself and his thoughts once again, turning his attention once more to the bag he had inside his car.

“Hiromi,” a familiar voice called out. Higuruma turned around, only to be met by Nanami, who had a indecipherable expression on his face.

Minutes before, Nanami decided to visit the nearby cafe and check if they had his favorite casse croûte that day. He wouldn’t mind getting a croissant, though.

 Upon stepping outside his building with dreams of pastries swirling around his overworked mind, he noticed you and Higuruma outside the cafe, and figured that was the perfect opportunity to approach you both and introduce you as the new intern for the criminal law department. It was just a matter of time before Higuruma accepted his offer, as Nanami thought, and you’d be both working together. However, before he could, Nanami noticed you and Higuruma were chatting, and not only that, but you approached Higuruma’s car and got something — apparently belonging to you — from his back seat. The ugliest red scarf Nanami had ever seen.

… What?

Nanami then remembered that you were a student on the very same university he tended to.

The same one in which Higuruma was a teacher too.

Why does Hiromi have things belonging to a student in the backseat of his car, of all places?  

Nanami was at a loss for words, and faltered for a few moments, wondering how he should ask Hiromi about this. That is, if he even should ask Hiromi about anything at all. Nanami decided to watch from afar, and something about the way Higuruma was carrying himself bothered Nanami.

He had only seen his best friend behaving like that in very specific scenarios, ones in which Hiromi definitely shouldn’t be interacting with a student of his.

After you left, Kento finally walked towards Hiromi, still uncertain if he should question his friend about the nature of your relationship with him. He could be imagining things.

But something was definitely disturbing him, he was sure of it. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“Kento, hi! Oh… I had forgotten, your firm is nearby, isn’t it?” Hiromi asked while looking around. “Sorry, I always seem to forget where it is. That explains why this cafe felt so familiar. Care for a smoke?”

“No.”

“You haven’t smoked with me in a long time,” Higuruma offered, pulling his own cigarette pack from his coat’s inner pocket. 

“I quit years ago,” Nanami reminded him, trying to put an end to this conversation detour.

“You still smoke on special occasions,” Higuruma offered, “eh, I wish I had your resolve.”

“You do, you just fail to direct it at things that will benefit you in the long run.”

“Just my little human shortcoming, I guess,” Higuruma finally replied, sparing Nanami a soft smile. He walked towards his car while unlocking it, “Let’s have something to eat, the coffee opened up my appetite. I just need to get more coins in case I end up going over the meter’s time limit, hold on.”

“Hiromi,” Nanami said once again, his tone graver than usual. That caught Higuruma’s attention.

“Hm, is everything okay?” Higuruma asked while leaning into his car.

Before Nanami could go on with his planned line of inquiry, he noticed what was over passenger’s seat. Especially the sunflower.

“Are you at it again?” Nanami asked, gesturing with his head towards it.

“Ah, you saw it…” Higuruma commented, as if he was a child being caught red handed while making a mess out of the house. “Well, yes. I’m trying to, and failing at it once again.”

“You know you don’t have to go, right?” Kento offered, while pulling some change from his pocket. “I have coins, we’ll be fine. Let me get you a snack, this cafe has the best casse croute around.”

“I do have to go, though,” Higuruma closed the door and stepped back onto the sidewalk. “I should, at least.”

Higuruma’s earlier energy seemed to wane ever so slightly, his shoulders falling while he slouched, unconsciously making himself smaller. 

“I don’t think I’ll manage to do it today, either,” he finally said, his eyes low on his feet, and his voice barely above a whisper.

Assessing the situation, it was clear that Higuruma was in no way in the right mindset to have that conversation regarding you, so Nanami put a mental note on it to ask about it at a later time. He stepped beside Hiromi and put a hand gently on his shoulder, sighing.

“Is it low tar?” Nanami questioned, clearing his throat to disguise his displeasure.

“Hm, what?”

“Your cigarette. Is it low tar?”

Higuruma huffed, a tiny smile forming on his lips as he said, “yes, yes it is.”

In a smooth motion, Higuruma pulled his pack back out of his coat and took two cigarettes out of it, handing one to Nanami along with a lighter. With the disposition of a man ready to face the electric chair, Kento pursed his lips around the cigarette, and lit it, only to be thrown in a coughing fit moments later.

“How the mighty do fall,” Higuruma noted with a discreet smirk on his lips, “you used to smoke more than me.”

“Shut up,” Nanami managed to churn out in between coughs, “this brand is awful.”

His friend chuckled while taking one long drag from his cigarette.

“Hey, Kento.”

“What?” Nanami considered tossing the cigarette as far as he could, but tried his best to survive it, even if just for Hiromi’s benefit.

“Is that offer still on the table? To…” Hiromi paused for a moment, clearing his throat, “hm, work in your firm?”

Managing to get his throat and lungs under control, Nanami glanced at Hiromi, knowing full well that good things came to those who wait.

Just like he had.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Hi, did you know I like to shamelessly plug people's work? No? So, yeah. I love doing that.

I got this STUNNING commission from @radish-breath and I have no shame to admit that I scrumpt a scream never screamt before when I got this 😭💜 I think you should go check out her work if you still haven't, lots of great sfw and nsfw pieces (all truly delectable 🤌) - Twitter | Patreon | Carrd.

Rad, once again (you already listened to me screeching like a banshee and ugly crying over it, lol), thank you very much for this amazing piece. It is beyond my wildest dreams alsdjasldkj

-

Tag list (updated):

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @redlikerozez @killerplink

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @cmdrfupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider 

@ohhheymessa @bigbaddulce @actuallysaiyan @s-witch-bitch @yeonjunarchives

@soft--cherry @quinnyundertow @traffi @shibataimu @shimadalluvia

[theartofwoompwoomp]

Are you able to do a part 3 of rumblexhuman!reader please?

hehehehe you read my mind, I was just thinking about updating this lol

Why’d no one tell me he’s hot !? Pt.3

Rumble x human!reader 

Summary: you thought the cassettes were supposed to be mini including for you lol 

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

———————————————————————

He started panicking when he realized a complete stranger was under him. trying to get up from the ground, but he was in such a rush he started squashing your body without noticing. It wasn’t until you yelped in pain he stopped moving.

 “Move… my leg. You’re on my leg.” Your voice ragged and meek trying to squirm your way out of the heavy bot, he realized his knee was on your leg. Removing it he finally noticed that you were indeed a squishy native.

Not many of your kind were on the nemesis. 

He knew your kind were fragile, but not this much. Seeing liquid dripping from your face as you examined yourself, checking your injuries he felt a strange pull at his spark.

“Sorry fleshy, I didn’t know you were there.” 

You looked to him, liquid was no longer dripping from your strange optics. your pained breaths and groans may have been quiet, but his audio receptors caught them.

Usually he never cared for the damage of his actions, but seeing you like this made the strange feeling in his spark pull stronger. 

Trying not to get mad at him. You concluded that it must have been an accident. So trying your best to be nice you responded with a “Don’t worry.” Now straining a smile towards him, “it’s my fault anyway. Im not supposed to be down here on the ground.” He tilted his helm at this.

“then why in the name of primus did you get in the way ?!”

You felt a bit offended, especially at his tone. It was also partially his fault. yet he didn’t care. Frowning a bit, you’re already started dreading the next few weeks if all your interactions were going to be like this.

“Well, sorry for being in the way, but soundwave is going to be my supervisor for a few weeks.” snapping back at him with your anger. Patience already lowered to the limit.

He could tell you were annoyed, heck he was a bit annoyed too. You were wasting his time on hiding from Soundwave’s rage. Any minute now he could get here, and here he was dealing with a fleshy. an.angry.fleshy.

“Look squishy, we don’t have time for this.” He needed to go. But the thought of just leaving you there hurt him. “Why, Shouldn’t your mission be over by now?”

You knew this by ravage and Lazerbeak being back, and you knew their own smaller quarters was next to yours. So where was he trying to go to now?

Frustrated, he simply picked you up, “no more questions.” Now he was holding you princess style. But his grip, it was a bit tight. Every step he took hurt, but you suppressed any noise.

He didn’t intend to take you, but he could feel Frenzy message that Soundwave was almost there. Rushing to take you to his secret hideout, he started noticing things about you.

For one, you were extremely warm. Two, you were smaller than him. And three, you made a strange face every once in a while. It would scrunch up then you’d release a breath.

You were incredibly interesting to say the least, though he kinda wishes you met in different circumstances. 

———————————————————————

Masterlist 

Previous 

[sturniololuv08]

On The Twelfth Day Of Nickmas...

Day 12 of Juno's 12 Days Of Nickmas

The party was interesting. Bri kept making subtle jokes no one was picking up on but the four of them. Nick noticed Larray flirting with Jared on occasion, but Jared never faltered where his attention was fixated. Gifts were exchanged, food was eaten, and Tik Toks were made of the famous now-proclaimed annual Sturniolo Christmas party.

"What a fucking night." Chris stretched as the door down the stairs closed.

"I know, right." Bri smiled as she was cleaning up small amounts of trash.

"Ready for bed?" Matt came up the stairs and joined by her side.

"Mhhm." She nodded weakly. He wrapped his arm around her and led her off to his room.

"I guess she's staying the night." Jared chuckled.

"Do you want to?" Nick offered up. Jared looked at him, knowing it meant more of what they weren't openly discussing was going to happen possibly.

"Yes." Jared didn't mean to, but his voice was eager. Chris smirked to himself as he walked down the stairs.

"Goodnight! " he yelled to everyone on the first level. Jared walked into Nick's room and saw the stain left on the sheets.

"Second time I've had to change these because of you." Nick laughed as he stripped the bed.

"Second time?" Jared raised a brow. Nick froze, realizing what he just said.

"I mean... I.. It's the first." He stuttered as he continued tugging at the sheet.

"You sure about that?" Jared sauntered over and wrapped his arms around Nick the way he did earlier. Nick felt his heart stop beating.

"No." He whispered the truth.

"No?" Jared copycatted his moves from earlier by running his fingers down Nick's body.

"Last night I ..." Nick wanted to tell him to see his reaction. He turned around. "I might have watched our car video." Nick's eyes gleamed as he saw Jared's loving expression. Jared kissed Nick's forehead.

"I love that video." he rested his foreheads on Nick's. They stood there for a moment, reveling in the silence. There was a sense of comfort Nick hadn't felt in a while. He felt like he could be himself without any repercussions. He could let his guard down. "I'm glad we met." Jared broke the silence.

"Me too."

"I know you are. Otherwise, you wouldn't have texted me." Jared winked at him. Nick sat on the bed.

"Were you mad?" He made a joke back.

"Of course not." Jared crawled on top of Nick and sat on his lap. Nick felt a heat wave flow down his body. "I had a feeling we would be good friends when I first met you."

"Really?" Nick perked up at the underlying compliment.

"Of course not. You hated me."

"I didn't hate you!" Nick was appalled he would think that.

"You barely spoke to me." Jared rolled his eyes, recalling the first time they met.

"If I remember correctly, I was having a bad day." Nick tried to recall the events before Jared walked in.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Jared felt terrible for not considering Nick's day.

"It's okay. Everyone is entitled to a bad day." Nick shrugged it off. The silence settled in again, and this time, it was uncomfortable. It felt like one of them needed to say something to address their position or feelings, but neither of them had the nerve to go first. Jared sighed. "What?" Nick looked up to see Jared staring off.

"Can we just talk about it?"

"About what?" Nick played dumb.

"Us?" Jared flicked his glance down to Nick, then away again.

"You are -"

"Your best friend. I know all that. Earlier, you said we weren't just best friends." Jared called him out.

"Best friends don't exactly do what we have been doing." Nick looked down at his waist, where their bodies were connected.

"So we are more." Jared perked up and looked at him.

"Yeah." Nick liked how excited Jared looked to be more with him. His dick started growing. Even though Jared was older than him, little things like the look in his eyes made Nick want to be more in control. Jared dipped down and kissed Nick in the middle of his thoughts. Their lips were moving together for a while before Jared started creating friction on Nick. "Mhhmm." Nick moaned on Jared's lips. Nick was ready to explore with Jared. A friendship turned into lovers wasn't what he had planned the day he got Jared's numbers, but he wasn't going to complain that his actions put him here. He tugged at the bottom of Jared's shirt. Jared slipped it off with one hand. His skinny white body was exposed.

"Take them off." Jared slid off of Nick so he could unbutton his jeans. He slid them all the way off.

"Your turn?" Nick asked. Jared slipped his sweatpants all the way off. Jared started tugging at Nick's shirt, wanting to see his skin. Nick shook his head lightly and pulled Jared onto him again. Their kiss was passionate and heated. Nick loved feeling even closer to his best friend. He denied this feeling for months without realizing it was making him ache. Nick shimmied back onto the bed more so his legs were no longer hanging over. Jared took this as a chance to re-situate himself on top of Nick. Nick nodded consent for Jared to press down on his swollen tip. Jared spit in his hand and rubbed it over Nick's soft shaft. Nick groaned from the simple pleasure.

"Ready?" Jared was ready. Crossing this line with Nick meant never going back, but Jared was okay with that. He decided he wanted Nick no matter what it meant moving forward.

"Yeah," Nick said, a little breathless. He was looking at Jared on top of him and falling for him. He had seen Jared countless times shirtless, but seeing him on top of him, ready to feel the pleasure Nick could give him, was euphoric. Jared started sliding down on Nick, feeling him inside. He winced a little as Nick's girth stretched him out. "Is it okay?" Nick was worried. He had been intimate with guys before but never like this. Jared started rocking slowly, feeling the pleasure of Nick touching deep inside of him.

"Oh my God." Jared threw his head back as he started rocking faster. Nick instinctively grabbed Jared's waist and made him move deeper.

"Fuck." He bit his bottom lip.

"I want you." Jared came down and kissed him again, continuing the motion with his hips. Their kiss became sloppy and rushed. "Harder," Jared whispered on his lips. Nick started snapping his hips upwards to bounce Jared up and down on his dick. Jared slammed down hard, feeling Nick touch all the right spots. His hands held onto Nick's chest for leverage and balance.

"You fucking like that?" Nick moaned. Jared didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed Nick's hand off of his waist and set it on his own hard penis. Nick understood what he wanted and started stroking him. Nick was going strong until Jared looked down with his green eyes and smirked slightly.

"Nick." Jared moaned loudly.

"I'm cumming." Nick bit his lip and looked at their hips rubbing against each other.

"Me too." Jared felt himself slowly release on Nick's shirt. Nick pressed his hips upwards, ramming himself as far into Jared as he could fit, and let his load go. "Fuck!" Jared winced from a little bit of pain and a whole lot of pleasure.

"Ugh, Jared." Nick let his name slip off his tongue in a lustful way. Jared rested his head next to Nick's. He felt a smooth pair of lips press on the side of his face. "You okay?" Nick asked, again checking on his friend.

"Mhhmm." Jared mumbled and nodded. They lay together for a few minutes, just taking in the moment. This moment was going to change everything between them, but neither of them seemed to mind.

"Hey, " Nick said, wanting Jared's attention. Jared lifted his head, lethargic from his euphoria settling in. "Merry Christmas," Nick smiled at him.

Taglist: @trevorsgodmother @strnilolover @chrissbug333 @kirby0strombolli @abbilmao @ksturnz @marrykisskilled @thenickgirl

That's it! It's late but this is the FINALE <3

I'm sorry it was late writing Nick Smut had me intimidated

[buckydeservesthebest]

I've kept thinking about this for a while… and I realized that I theorized too much and I think I took the wrong take in some respects, so I'm essentially coming to contradict myself on a few things.

I just realized that after activating the Winter Soldier's programming, Zemo first asks Bucky about the December 16, 1991 mission report, but this is something Bucky doesn't answer and that's why instead Zemo asks him about the specific Siberian base he was imprisoned in. This means that Bucky doesn't remember or have access to past mission reports, as these are something his handlers ask him for once he returns from those missions, before he is subjected to a new ECT session, which erases all his memories, there is no way for the pre-lobotomization information to still be there afterwards. That's why we never saw any of his handlers ask him for information about past missions, because he doesn't have them.

That said, I believe that while Bucky loses virtually all of the information he experienced under the Winter Soldier's mind control, there is a very small fraction that remains, and they are the memories that had the most impact on him and his psyche: the faces of the people he was forced to kill. In fact, precisely in TFATWS, the only flashback we got to see was of the Winter Soldier's targets, not how he got to the place in question in the first place, or how his handler gave him his orders. All we got to see were the kills, nothing else. Spellman also made reference to the fact that the only memories Bucky keeps are specifically of the faces of the people he was forced to kill.

"So when Bucky enters the series, he's never ever shaken what he believes, which is, *'I remember everyone, murders,* which means that part of me was there, which means a part of the Winter Soldier is me.' And if even a fraction of Winter Soldier is you, you are an awful person."

The Marvel Studios; Visual Dictonary book also makes reference to Bucky only remembering that.

And if anything, the only thing extra that Bucky could remember was the location of the HYDRA base in Siberia where he was imprisoned, but most likely this is something he remembers because he was taken there since 1945, i.e. before HYDRA had managed to break his mind at all. And most likely also, the only thing Bucky could remember about the place is the visual description, because there is no way he could have extracted the specific coordinates of the place from those vague fuzzy memories. He just gave the location description to Zemo and he deduced the rest on his own.

I also believe that the information Bucky gave about the other Winter Soldiers was not something he remembered on his own, but something Zemo told him. And that's something Bucky vaguely remembered because he hadn't been subjected to an ETC session before the trigger words were spoken. Because it doesn't make sense that Bucky could have remembered the other WS when he couldn't remember that mission report, nor that Zemo first asked him about it, when also this would be information that would have been lost after another 25 years of ECT. Another thing that supports this, is that Bucky told Steve and Sam that Zemo could control the other Winter Soldiers when this is not true, because none of them were subjected to mind control like Bucky was. So ultimately, this idea must have been something Zemo told Bucky.

In turn, Bucky doesn't remember what he did shortly after that, which is why he asked “what did I do?” when he woke up from the blackout, and why he also didn't seem to recognize Sam, Sharon, Natasha or anyone else, nor could he even remember fighting Steve. On his reunion with Steve in Bucharest, Bucky also doesn't remember that prior to pulling Steve out of the river, the two had had a confrontation.

So my conclusion is that the only memories that remain in Bucky's mind are only the ones that left the most impact on him, which are the faces of the people he was forced to kill, and nothing else.

By the way, about the long debate among the fandom about whether it is true or not that Bucky could not fully recognize Steve in their meeting in Bucharest, the book "Marvel Studios The Marvel Cinematic Universe An Official Timeline" gives a definitive answer, Bucky was telling the truth, he recognized Steve's face but not his friendship, at least not fully. And it was with time, or perhaps thanks to the blow that caused his blackout, that Bucky began to recover more of his memories together...

“That line was an interesting moment. At the time, the choice I was making is that [Bucky] had realized there was no way he was getting out of there, and someone was gonna die, whether it was gonna be him, Steve or Tony. When he says that line, to me, it was a turning point — he was, like, ‘Okay, I know what you want me to say, and I’m just gonna say it.’ When someone comes at you over and over again, and they can’t hear you, they can’t see you’re pleading with them, you’re trying to figure out how to get through to them and they just won’t accept it, at some point you just give in, and you go, ‘that’s right, that’s what you want.’ Of course [Bucky] didn’t remember them all.” —  Sebastian Stan

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hi! I’m not sure if you do age gap one-shots too much, but thought I’d still ask:).

So I was having thoughts about when Metallica did the Grammys with Lady Gaga? Reader used to be one of Lady Gaga’s backup dancers. So reader is dating James and James decided to bring her to rehearsals with him one day without knowing that she used to be one of Lady Gaga’s back up dancers. Lady Gaga and reader had still been really good friends and when Metallica and her were taking a break, reader and Lady Gaga decided to just mess around a bit and do some of their old dances together. Watching the reader dance, how her body moved, and just how she let Gaga touch her (nothing sexual or anything just that casual touching dancers get sometimes from the main person), it kinda just made James realize how turned on her was by it and the second they get home he gets her to dance for him before making sweet but rough love to her?

I only do age gaps if they're over 18, if not, then I won't do his, I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: age gap, mature content, mature language, smut scenes

Dancing with desire

I never thought much about my past as one of Lady Gaga's backup dancers—at least, not until James invited me to come to one of Metallica’s rehearsals with him. It was supposed to be just another day of watching him work, hanging out with him while he went over his setlist and played guitar. Simple. But I hadn’t realized how much my past with Gaga would affect the way James saw me, and I had definitely never expected it to come up in front of him, especially not in this way.

When I walked into the studio that day, I was excited, but there was a certain tension I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t anything to do with James—he had been so supportive and understanding about my time with Gaga, my dance history. But seeing her again, after all these months, brought back memories I hadn’t thought about in a long time. As soon as we locked eyes, it was like no time had passed. We slipped into our old dynamic, instantly comfortable with one another, like two dancers who had shared years of stage time and knew exactly what the other needed.

We spent the next hour running through old moves, laughing at the routines we used to perform together, a mix of playfulness and muscle memory. My body moved like it always had with her, fluid, instinctive, and without hesitation. There was nothing sexual about it—it was just the casual intimacy dancers have, that bond you form after years of being in sync. Gaga would occasionally touch my arm or guide me into a turn, and I didn’t think much of it. That kind of touch between dancers is normal, comforting even. But I could feel James watching us. I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and focused.

I tried not to pay attention, but it was hard not to notice. The way his eyes followed me, the way he stood there so still, as if he was taking in every movement I made. I thought maybe I was imagining it, but there was something different in his expression, something that felt more intense than I had ever seen before. It wasn’t just admiration anymore—it was like he was seeing me in a new light, something about my dance and my connection with Gaga awakening something inside him.

When we finally took a break, I noticed that James wasn’t saying much. He was quieter than usual, his mind clearly somewhere else. I figured he was just processing everything, but I could see the way he was looking at me, his eyes dark with something I hadn’t seen before. It was a look that made my pulse quicken, and suddenly, I wasn’t sure how to act around him. I thought maybe we’d brush it off and move on with the day, but there was a shift in the air.

When we finally got home, it was clear something had changed between us. The quiet tension that had built up earlier was now palpable. James didn’t waste any time—he came right up to me, his hands sliding around my waist as he pulled me into his arms. His eyes were still heavy with that same look from earlier, a kind of hunger that was impossible to ignore.

“Dance for me,” he said, his voice low and rough, as if it was something he had been wanting to ask but hadn’t known how.

At first, I didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t like James to ask me to do something like that—not like this. But there was something in the way he said it, something in the way he was looking at me, that made it impossible for me to say no.

I didn’t even think about it. I just put on some music and moved, letting my body take over. The movements came naturally, almost instinctively, like I was back in that studio with Gaga. Every stretch, every turn, felt like it was a part of me. But this time, every step felt different. Every movement was for James. His eyes were locked on me, and I could feel him drinking in every detail of my performance, his gaze never leaving me. The intensity in his eyes was palpable, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

It wasn’t just the dance that was making the air thick with tension; it was the way he responded to it. His hands would twitch as if he was dying to touch me, and yet he kept his distance, as if waiting for me to finish. I could tell he was barely holding it together, like he was caught between watching me and wanting me closer.

When I finally finished, breathless and flushed, I looked at him, unsure of what would come next. But James didn’t say a word. He moved toward me, his hands cupping my face, and he kissed me, slow at first, as if testing the waters. His lips were soft but demanding, like he was trying to hold on to this moment where everything had shifted between us.

But it didn’t stay slow for long. His kiss deepened, growing more urgent, and I could feel him pulling me closer, his hands sliding down to my back, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. The way he touched me now wasn’t like before—it wasn’t just about love, it was about something raw, something powerful that had built up over the course of the day. He wasn’t just kissing me; he was showing me how badly he wanted me, how much he was affected by everything he had seen, by the way my body moved, by the way I danced.

As the kiss deepened, the world around us faded into a blur. James’s hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, the heat emanating from his body setting my skin ablaze. There was an urgency in his touch, a raw need that ignited something deep within me.

“I need you,” he breathed, his voice low and commanding. The intensity in his gaze was electric, and I felt a delicious flutter in my stomach.

With a swift motion, he guided me backward until the cool leather of the couch met the backs of my thighs. I gasped as he pressed me down, his body hovering above mine, a mix of strength and desire radiating from him. “Stay right there,” he instructed, locking his eyes with mine, searching for reassurance.

“Yes,” I whispered, feeling exhilarated by the command.

James descended, his lips trailing delicate kisses down my neck, each touch igniting a trail of fire across my skin. He took his time, savoring, teasing, as if he were mapping out every inch of me. I could feel his breath hot against my skin, teasing me just enough to make my heart race with anticipation.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice thick with need, weaving intimacy into the dominance he exuded.

“I want you inside me,” I breathed, the words slick with longing. I craved the fullness of him, the wild intensity of our bodies coming together.

The look in his eyes shifted—his possessiveness deepened. He deftly shed his pants, positioning himself between my legs, powerful and commanding. “Hold on tight,” he instructed, the promise in his voice sending shivers down my spine.

With a smooth, deliberate thrust, he entered me, and my breath hitched, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled by him. The initial shock of him was intoxicating, and I gasped, pressing my palms against his chest, feeling the sheer strength in his muscles.

“Just like that,” I encouraged breathlessly, feeling the heat between us swell as he began to move, each thrust deliberate and deep. It started slow, allowing me to savor every inch, but the heat was building faster than I could keep up with.

“You feel incredible,” he grunted, his breaths growing heavier. The way he moved was a mix of tenderness and raw need, a dance that sent electric waves of pleasure shooting through me.

“James,” I gasped, my body arching instinctively beneath him. The way he looked at me, with equal parts admiration and desire, made every nerve in my body hum.

“Don’t hold back,” I urged, aching for him to unleash the intensity simmering beneath the surface. “I want all of you.”

A primal sound escaped him, something low and hungry, and without hesitation, he picked up the pace, thrusting into me with a fierceness that took my breath away. The couch shifted beneath us, the sound of skin slapping against skin merging with our breathless gasps.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he breathed, fingers digging into my hips as he thrust harder, every movement rough yet filled with an underlying sweetness that made it all the more intoxicating. He pulled the intensity from deep within himself, pouring everything he had into this moment.

The way he held me was a declaration; I belonged to him. I could feel the possessiveness in every thrust as he anchored me to the couch, his strong body hovering over mine like a shield.

“Yes, James!” I cried, surrendering fully to the pleasure coursing through me. He was relentless, pushing me to the edge and holding me there, building the tension until it felt like fireworks were sparking in my veins.

“Let go,” he commanded, his voice a low growl as his thrusts grew more urgent, more desperate. “I want to feel you falling apart around me.”

The pressure mounted, every powerful thrust of his driving me closer to the brink. I could feel myself spiraling, caught between the pleasure and the intoxicating grip of his control.

“James!” I gasped, the wave of release crashing into me like a torrent, tears of pleasure escaping the corners of my eyes as I surrendered completely. My body quaked around him, and I felt every bit of him pulsing inside me.

He followed right after, his groan echoing through the room, a rich sound that vibrated deep within me as we tumbled over the edge together. The world blurred, our bodies melding into one as we rode the waves of ecstasy, the rawness of our connection leaving me utterly breathless.

As we finally came down from our high, the world around us faded into a comfortable stillness. I lay wrapped in James's arms, his warmth radiating against my skin. He brushed my hair back from my forehead, and the tenderness of the gesture made my heart swell.

“You were incredible,” he whispered, his voice soft but thick with emotion, like he needed me to know just how much I meant to him in that moment.

I smiled, my cheeks warming as I melted against him. “So were you.” I could still feel the echoes of our intensity, every beat of my heart resonating with the connection we’d just forged.

He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’ve waited so long for this,” he murmured, the gravity of his words wrapping around us like a heavy curtain. “You have no idea how much I needed you.”

His confession sent a thrill through me, igniting something deeper than just physical desire. “I’m glad it was you,” I whispered back, feeling the weight of vulnerability in the air between us.

In that moment, everything else faded away. The laughter, the struggles, the world outside—none of it mattered. It was just us, two souls fully entwined in a dance that felt both sweet and consuming.

We lay there, quiet and content, each breath we shared a silent promise of what was to come. The connection we had discovered pulsed between us, a newfound anchor amidst the chaos of life.

[ilikekidsshows]

I think for me at least the difference between Adrien’s problematic behavior (harassing Ladybug even after she’s rejected him several times and even something like telling Marinette to take the high road regarding Lila which I know got him a lot of flack with the fandom) and Marinette’s behavior is that we actually see Adrien growing past said behavior. He does eventually move on from Ladybug and come to be happy being just a good friend and partner to her. (Sure it’s partly because he ‘falls’ for Marinette but we’ll not get into that here). He also realizes he was wrong about the Lila thing and actually threatens her to get her to fix what she did to Marinette in that one episode and tries to tell Alya and Nino the truth about her.

Meanwhile Marinette not only gets worse over time but the show bends over backwards to try and justify said bad behavior nor does she ever receive any real consequences for it.

For me that’s a large part of why I’m okay with Adrien’s bad behavior and not Marinette’s and I don’t think the two can really be fairly compared due to such circumstances and the way the show handled both of them.

---

Yeah, like, the writers also eventually made Cat Noir take responsibility for all of Paris thinking he and Ladybug are a couple and they made Adrien take responsibility for everything done against Lila, be it not confronting her directly or confronting her directly, since he actually makes comments on both approaches that can be taken as apologies. Adrien doesn't just apologize and “clean up his act”, he takes full responsibility over others’ similar actions as well. Even before this, though, Adrien's faults weren't treated the same as Marinette's. Whenever Ladybug told him his flirting was too much, she was presented as the one whose feelings on the matter mattered the most and Cat Noir respected her no and backed down every time. He also valued her friendship even before he stopped loving her. Meanwhile, Marinette stopping her stalking of Adrien wasn't even fully stopping and she was shown as frustrated about it while making excuses over how she was totally justified. Her feelings over the stalking were given focus, but we never learn how Adrien feels about it. She also never valued Adrien’s friendship, calling it the “worst thing ever”. The Lila thing Adrien was right about, actually, I will die on that hill. The writers can’t even remember what Adrien said about Lila, since he makes contradictory statements about her.

As you said, Marinette's behavior keeps getting worse but she keeps getting validated. Even the abuse apologia has already been validated by both Tikki and Bunnix in the London special. They treat it as a morally equal option to not doing what she did and they also shrink what Marinette did (abuse apologia) into just “not telling the truth” (they don't even call it “lying”) to make it seem even more like she hasn't done anything too bad. Alix also frames the whole thing in a way where she's only focused on consequences, saying being truthful would have also have painful consequences. They're downplaying the heck out of what Marinette's done wrong, so, when that's combined with how her other flaws are viewed as 100% okay or nonexistent, I just can't see this as an arc where Marinette learns anything, instead of it ending with Marinette crying about what a terrible person she is again while being instantly forgiven, if she gets confronted with this being a mistake at all.

So, let's compare and contrast:

Adrien makes a mistake: takes full responsibility, doesn't make excuses, focuses on the feelings of the wronged party

Marinette makes a mistake: makes excuses, screams and cries about how bad she's feeling until she gets coddled, talks over the wronged party

The writers are so consistent about ignoring anything Marinette does wrong or having her get instantly validated for her mistakes that I have no faith in her villain arc actually being anything close to one instead of of it just being a way to make Marinette the one who suffers the most from Gabriel's death and her “not telling the truth”.

[l-in-the-light]

I'm just gonna leave it here lol. Come on, Zoro can be pretty dumb, that's the point of it. Always has been. You think Zoro even noticed he chomped down some razorblades? Ofc he didn't! It was just some crunchy food for him. And he's too airheaded to realize only his lunchbox had anything crunchy in it lol. There's a reason why Luffy and Zoro are besties, and that reason is: they're both kinda dumb. Personally, it only makes me like them more.

But if anyone wants to go serious route here, I think we should instead ask this question: what made Zoro this way? Is he so used to eat trash to survive that a bit of poison and inedible things don't affect him all that much anymore? When we look at Zoro's backstory we can realize that he was pretty much always alone. No family, always training. Like sure, he had the dojo, but he didn't think they're his family or at least we never see anyone treat Zoro this way or him addressing them as family. He called Kouzaburo just "some old guy". No one told him they're all probably relatives either (we know thanks to SBS that they, in fact, are somewhat related). Zoro lost his parents and was on his own ever since (his father died fighting against pirates, his mom was a bandit and died of illness). How did he find the dojo, what did he do to survive before they took him in? Let's not forget Zoro was always full of pride and very stubborn. I doubt descendants of samurais would just tell him "we need to take you in, otherwise you will starve". Maybe they told him instead that they will take him in only if he promises to train (because he has potential), so in exchange he tried to be good with swords, so he can somewhat repay them for their kindness and care. Like to show their efforts to train him didn't go to waste.

Anyway, my point is, Zoro at some point in childhood might have also learned how it's like to be starving what a coincidence, it's like with Sanji huh. Luffy also knows that feeling, when Garp left him in the jungle alone and told him he needs to survive by himself. He had to try out things to eat if he didn't want to die of hunger. We can laugh that Luffy is so stupid that he's eating any mushrooms he finds, but that's probably something he learned as a kid to do to survive. So I bet Zoro, who can eat any trash you give him, is also showing us he didn't have an easy time as a child.

Disclaimer of sorts: And before anyone protests that only Sanji is allowed to have a starvation as a theme in his backstory, otherwise it won't be unique anymore, I dunno, what about Nami (who lived in poverty and at times had to survive on tangerines alone), Usopp (what did he eat after his mom passed away? who took care of him?), Chopper (yeah, he kinda ate a devil fruit because he was hungry and somehow assumed that looks edible huh), Robin (lately it's been revealed how she had to eat from trash to survive) and outside Strawhats, what about Law? After he got out of Flevance and before he joined Donquixotes, he had to survive somehow. The only possible way he could have done that is by living on the streets and by eating trash or stealing. There's a lot of starving kids in One Piece, that theme is not exclusive to Sanji, but it also doesn't make it any less special. Sanji himself is what made it actually special; by vowing he will feed all the starving ones, no matter what troubles it will bring him, no matter if someone he feeds has bad intentions or might be a bad person. He's not letting anyone starve and nothing is ever gonna make him regret feeding people, even if they try to harm him instead of showing gratitude. That's what's truly special about Sanji's backstory, the starvation bit is just allowing him to relate to starving people more. You can say all you want about Germa, but Judge didn't starve his son, and ever since he left his family Sanji worked on the cruise ship and didn't really experience hunger either.

The Razor Blade scene: Character assassination, a joke, or something else?

I've been seeing people discuss two small scenes connected to each other post Fishman Island and in Punk Hazard, the first where the two are bickering and they say this:

And a scene in Punk Hazard where Sanji packed lunches for Luffy, Zoro, Robin, and Usopp and Zoro is making "crunching" noises in the panel, and Oda reveals in an SBS that Sanji did actually put razor blades and poison in Zoro's food:

I have seen claims of character assassination in this scene for Sanji, considering his position on food being something everyone has a right to and his refusal in Whole Cake Island to put poison in the cake they plan to give to Big Mom:

I understand that comparing the two scenes, it does look like Sanji is abandoning his ideals just to get back at Zoro in their fight. But we need to look at both what Oda is saying in the SBS and also Zoro and Sanji's relationship to understand this scene, and why I don't believe this breaks Sanji's character or his ideals.

In the SBS, Oda ends the answer with "The serious nature of their fight is what makes it interesting." Going back one panel and seeing what triggered this fight:

It was Zoro being a lil shit and calling Sanji "Nosebleed-kun." That's to say, this fight is no more serious than their usual bickering, and Oda is making fun of that. Ultimately, this scene and the lunchboxes is a running joke, so that is one thing to keep in mind is that the scene, and Sanji by extension, is not serious about this fight. Of course, jokes are not immune to committing mischaracterization, so we have to look at their relationship too to make sense of it fully.

So why did Sanji actually put poison and razor blades in Zoro's food if he believes that poison shouldn't be used in food? I think at the end of the day, we have to remember that Sanji would never hurt anyone through food, especially the ones he cares about. And he does care about Zoro, it is shown time and time again that they watch out for and care for each other, from Long Ring Long Land, to Thriller Bark and Saoboady, and in Wano. My point is that Sanji knows that Zoro is a freak of nature and wouldn't actually be hurt by the razor blades or the poison, and that he would finish the food.

Zoro actually eats the damn food and literally says nothing about it, Oda didn't even think people would catch this it was such a small detail, but it's one I really like. One because, honestly, it is a funny joke to me, but also it shows a level of trust and understanding of each other? Sanji knows that Zoro is such a brute that he can just fucking. Chomp on metal (which. you know he does on the regular anyways LMAO) and have a little bit of poison go through him and he's literally fine. This is no worse to me than Sanji kicking him. And Zoro just accepting what he's been given, literally no complaints, and he finishes the food and doesn't waste it, because he DOES respect what Sanji does for him and the crew on a daily basis.

Ultimately, the difference in this scene and in Whole Cake Island is that Sanji KNOWS that he isn't actually gonna hurt Zoro by pulling this on him, hes looking to call Zoro on his taunt and be an annoying brat back to him. Bege is seriously asking him to kill Big Mom through the food that he makes, something that's on a completely different level then him pulling a prank on Zoro. The razor blade joke no different in this scene as well in Wano:

I don't think this is out of character for Sanji, it is their usual pettiness on full display, but also serves as a nice small detail into how they understand and trust each other.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Witte Solstice - Chapter 27

Cover art by @leespinoodle.

Fic written by me (enchantedchocolatebars) and @leespinoodle.

Summary: It's winter in the Boiling Isles, and Caleb prepares to celebrate the solstice with his wife, his friends… and hopefully, with Beardo Philip! Philip swears he'll never partake in the satanic holidays of those demonic witches. But when Caleb invites him over for the solstice… maybe he'll find himself making an exception.

Ao3 version

The table was quickly taken over by talk and laughter as the guests began conversing and passing dishes around.

Caleb bowed his head, hands clasped, and quietly said grace to himself. Out of respect for him, Evelyn held off on eating until Caleb was done.

'Look at them eating that atrocious garbage...,' Philip practically gagged out in his mind as he scanned the table, watching some of the witches smile while trying one another's cooking while others freely fill their plates.

Meanwhile, Philip's was clear of any food.

'They're sickening,' he shuddered, shifting his gaze to Caleb, who he watched say his grace.

Gazing at his plate, his eyes widened.

He was genuinely surprised to see…

"Psst, Caleb," Philip whispered to his brother. "Is that... Are you about to eat... How did you...?"

Beside the traditional Boiling Isles cuisine on Caleb's plate, which he enjoyed but was only able to eat in limited amounts, was plenty of English cuisine that he had been able to throw together with human-friendly ingredients.

There was black pudding, of course, and pan haggerty, pease porridge, and cottage loaves, among other things.

"Is it the pudding you're eyeing?" Caleb asked. "Well, you know it's one of my favorites, so of course I had to make it while I was cooking. Would you like some?"

'Hmph! Of course Caleb cooked the pudding,' a well-pleased Philip thought to himself. 'It's the closest thing to English food.'

Philip soon began to take note of the other English dishes that surrounded the table.

Inwardly, he gave a satisfied chuckle.

'Heh, take that, vile witches! Our food is far more superior than yours!'

Caleb could talk endlessly about his love for living in the Demon Realm all he wanted, but Philip always had a hunch that he still maintained his roots to humanity in some way or another.

It brought him great joy to know that he was right.

"Perhaps...," Philip carefully answered in a gradual tone, ensuring that he didn't reject the offer immediately.

"But I'd like to know, did..."

'Come on, Philip, you can do this.'

"Did..."

'Her name merely has six letters.'

"Did..."

'Your plan! Your plan, Philip! Think about your plan! You can't botch up this opportunity to win your brother back! Just say her name already!'

"Did Evelyn..." Her name made Philip sick to his stomach, but he managed to keep his disgust inside.

"Assist you in cooking them? Not that it matters. I'm just curious to know if you prepared the pudding alone."

"The pudding was all me," Caleb said with a smile. "But Evelyn helped with the vegetables. We split most of the cooking."

"I see...," Philip said as he slowly shifted his eyes at Evelyn.

The corners of his mouth and his mustache moved up as he met her eyes and gave her a smile that seemed to be genuine.

However...

'Ha! Hear that, witch? Caleb cooked the pudding on his own! He realized that you were incapable of making English food and decided to refuse your assistance.'

Being a vile hag from the deepest, most darkest pits of Heck, Evelyn would have soiled the meal somehow, possibly killing his brother in the process, or so Philip believed.

The brunette gave his gaze to Caleb once more. "Jolly good then!" A peppy Philip picked up his plate and held it at his brother. "I would be delighted to try some."

Caleb filled Philip's plate before passing the dishes down the table for the rest of the guests to serve themselves.

Taking his full plate, Philip placed it down in front of him and began to stare at the sausages as if they were sprinkled with poison.

He was aware that Caleb had cooked them, but they were also prepared using ingredients from the Demon Realm.

This vile place.

Who knows what slew of demon diseases he could catch by simply taking a bite.

Philip's uncertainty continued as he squinted at his plate, and the guests who were serving themselves and sharing their dishes began to stare.

Whispering quickly commenced back and forth at the table.

Lifting his fork, the brunette lowered it to the pudding, cutting a morsel of the meat as he pierced the piece with his fork and slowly raised it to his mouth.

After a silent prayer to the Lord to send his soul to heaven, lest he pass away from this meal, he finally puts the piece in his mouth.

Slow and awkward chewing begins from Philip as he works the piece of food back and forth between his cheeks, acting as if it had the consistency and texture of a three-day-old overcooked slab of beef.

This goes on for nearly twenty seconds until he eventually decides to swallow.

Philip then swiftly shuts his eyes, ready to be greeted by the angels who guarded the golden gates of Heaven.

… As one blue eye peeks open, the other slowly follows suit.

The brunette blinks twice.

Philip was genuinely surprised to see himself still at the table, with everyone still staring at him, of course.

"I'm... alive?" an astounded Philip quietly and rhetorically asked, placing a hand on his heart to ensure that it was still beating.

"Uh...," one guest began. "Why… wouldn't you be??"

"I mean...!" Philip swiftly raised his fork high, shifting to a more cheery tone. "Delicious! Can't wait to finish the rest. Mmm!" He grinned and rubbed his stomach in circles.

The guests slowly turn their attention away from the awkward human as they go back to serving and sharing their food.

A sigh was breathed out by Philip, relieved to see that he was no longer the center of attention.

Looking in Caleb's direction, he directed a smile his way.

Caleb frowned at Philip's odd reaction, but quickly switched back to smiling once he noticed Philip was looking. He could see Evelyn rolling her eyes in his peripheral vision.

This was probably going to be a long night.

[kandadze]

FoF rewatch ep 5-6: Zhuo Yichen and Zhuo Yixuan (gifs and loose thoughts)

It might be because I'm an only child, that I tend to gravitate towards sibling - whether by blood or found - relationships. One of my favorite books growing up was Astrid Lindgren's "The Brothers Lionheart." I'm more likely to watch a show if it has an ensemble cast of characters who are in all sorts of familial and otherwise close situationships (hello, FoF). (Must also be why I finished watching My Journey To You the first time - due to my morbid fascination with the absolutely dysfunctional, codependent, borderline incestuous and in general fucked up dynamic between the eldest and the youngest of the Gong "brothers"... not sure what that says about me lol)

Back to the Zhuo brothers.

I loved Zhuo Yixuan the moment he appeared in ep 5 (and not only because I have a soft spot for his actor). I do realize that we get an idealized version of him, seeing him only through the eyes of someone who loved him and then lost him too early, and I still think he was a remarkable guy.

I believe that he can be considered one of the biggest influences on who ZYC is as a person. (The other one would be WX, but that's a whole separate post.) As far as the Zhuo family goes, we know there was a father, but even though he is mentioned, it's never by name, and he never features in any of ZYC's memories, either - which makes me assume that he was a father just by title, and not very close with either of the brothers.

As for their mother, we were told that she died when ZYC was little, so I imagine ZYX himself was a teenager at most at the time. Now imagine this young boy, having just lost his mother, and with barely any support from his father, not only raising himself, but also becoming a whole-ass family unit (mother, father and brother) to his Xiao-Chen. And, even allowing that ZYC's memories only show us the best moments with his big brother, seeing what we can of ZYC's character, I think ZYX did a spectacular job.

He's most likely the reason why ZYC, even socially awkward and shy, draws people in - whether demon, half-god, or human child that's a little bit of both. As long as someone doesn't pose an active threat, he just does his best to do what his big brother used to do for him - asks questions, listens patiently, responds from his personal experience and to the best of his ability. ZYX didn't ridicule him for having nightmares or being scared to dream; he reassured him and then looked for ways to help. ZYX didn't force him into making connections with other children when it was clear it was too painful; he did his best to be there when it mattered and let nature take its course.

There's that scene in later eps where ZYX does his sword training while ZYC entertains himself in the vicinity. It's obvious the brothers enjoyed each other's company, but also had their own pastimes and commitments (the nightmare in ep 6 starts with ZYC doing his own training while ZYX is away). There's the scene with ZYC trying on that delicate golden headband, and ZYX teaching him what it meant to wear one (made me think of a book I read years ago, which featured an apparently Anglo-Saxon tradition of boys up to a certain age wearing a headband woven with 7 strips of white cloth for pretty much the same reasons as ZYX explained to ZYC). He clearly taught his baby brother some sound principles.

I'm also assuming that ZYX was quite lonely himself. In ZYC's memories he's of age to marry and have a child, but there's no other family around that we can see, or that would get mentioned. ZYC must've intuited that, asking ZYX if he's the same as him - as in, misunderstood, and lonely, and his big brother just smiles and doesn't answer, clearly not wanting to burden him.

He instead shares what I think was what he got from being born into Bingyi line - a gift of foresight. I might be reaching, but in my mind ZYX foretold many events in ZYC's life - meeting ZYZ (the "anomaly," that ZYC will recognize not with his eyes, but his heart! The Truth Eye parallels are everywhere...), meeting like-minded companions, waking up the Cloud Light Sword... He seems to have hoped for all the best for his baby brother, not for himself. Which again, makes me emotional at just how good of a man he was, and how he helped ZYC to become someone who's not afraid to be open and soft, who's able to change his mind as new information presents itself, who's emotionally intelligent and does his best to see the world clearly.

We'll never know what would have become of the brothers had ZYX survived, but I believe that if he could see his Xiao-Chen now, he'd be very very proud.

[ember-not-amber]

Reading the first Ever After High book alone made me realize just how comedic and kind of unserious the show is. In the books, Hunter Huntsman has a pet griffin, not a squirrel, and there are no shenanigans happening with him and any animal at all! And Daring Charming is not the laughable narcissist that he is in the show, his character is much more serious and he isn’t constantly looking in a mirror (at least in the first book, I think I remember from the third book he might have looked in mirrors but I’ll have to see when I read it again), he’s very skilled in the classes he takes for sword-fighting and other prince shit. Raven herself remembers watching him sword-fight with his feet and he won. He also doesn’t have that blinding smile super power, his smile is only ever described in a similar way but it’s never established that one smile from him blinds any maidens nearby that are looking at him. Dexter’s character seems heavily exaggerated in the show compared to the books. I kept expecting him to be SUPER awkward and stuttering A LOT and commenting out loud about how he’s jealous of Daring and wants to be like him but he’s way more chill!

The overall tone of the books is much more serious than the tone of the show is and I really wish we could’ve gotten an exact copy-paste show of the books bc of that.

[sunflower1experiment]

“He won’t try any bullshit with me”

Tw// Harm, Assault, trauma, workplace abuse

“….Curly are you stupid?” Curly blinks at the words that left [Name]’s lips, “Excuse me?”

“Exactly, see how dumb I sound asking and acting casual with my own Captain. If Jimmy is willing to make crude sex jokes towards Anya but not with you what does that tell me?” He looks away, they were right but what does that have to do with Anya.

[Name] snaps their finger at him, “He sees you as someone to emotionally respect meanwhile us who’re vulnerable, the minority are stuck with that dumb ah behavior! We are not his friends we are coworkers and so are you.” With that they left, walking past Anya who was listening intently.

“Don’t let their words hurt you too much, they just can’t stand it when…well people excuse others. Their heart is probably racing and they feel guilt…you okay?” Anya pats Curly’s arm, knowing that Curly was sensitive about the crew’s happiness and health.

“They will come around but, at this moment their trust with you is tense.”

Anya was right, they truly despised Jimmy since that crude joke. Anya occasionally shut them down with her firm glance but [Name] never let Jimmy near Anya. Heck anytime he called they’d appear to help, it made Curly worry. So the night they went to bed, he called them to his side at the common area.

“[Name], I get it, you want Anya to be safe-“

“Anya can take care of herself, I want all of us to be safe. I don’t want to lose my mental sleep because some golden boy and his little boy toy want to cover for one another.” [Name] leans back in their gown, staring up at the screen.

“…….You and him are typical, typical creepy guy. Oh so insecure always needing his successful pal to save him, meanwhile he screws the guy over….I wonder how many times did he fail on earth before coming here? Eh? Captain?” Curly stares, silent, they got him. He knows it, he has to take responsibility somehow.

“….Sorry, I-I didn’t know you hated Jimmy-“

[Name] groans, their eyes roll and they were exasperated. “I don’t hate him, I’m just not going to take another day of some bastard who sees me and Anya as nothing more than that damned Polle statue, make no mistake Curly. He won’t try any bull with you until he has the upper hand then once that high power stroke is over he’ll crawl back to you.”

They walk out, heading to their sleeping quarters.

Why, why was their paranoia right? What was the reason?

They stared at Curly then at Jimmy’s broken leg, “…..I told you Curly.”

Curly’s cold blue eyes match their energy while Jimmy laid on the floor, scared, crying over his leg. “Shut up! You want to cry? Think about how much pain she was in…”

Their heart beat was practically hitting their eardrums, “Every day you wander this place thinking you’re in charge? What because you’re a co pilot…”

[Name] steps on the gunshot wound, staring Jimmy dead in the eyes. “…..You’re lucky Curly needs a co pilot..”

It went quiet, until Curly restrained the crewmate and he had them sent to their sleeping quarters. Where they remain for the time being, it was quiet.

Anya was pregnant, that made them snap. They’ve heard horror stories, lost friends, family even. To people who hurt them and then killed them for situations involving kids, as if it were their fault….Jimmy knew that it was his fault but only wanted her to carry the blame…

So they scuffled over the gun, Jimmy lost his balance and they pulled the trigger on his leg. Anya stared in horror, she felt horrible, because of what happened.

[Name] didn’t realize how this would have affected her, all they wanted was revenge for Anya….it’s not about them…in a way they acted like Jimmy….what would Anya have wanted?

Anya hugs [Name], “I’m sorry Anya…”

“No, its not your fault, its his and Pony Express…why are you crying?”

[Name] sniffles, “He would’ve killed you, and I never considered your feelings…I was just so angry at Curly and him…” they hug for a long time.

When they were left alone Curly came in to speak, “….Jimmy is fine, can still fly but he’ll have to be carried slightly or use crutches…” It goes quiet, “….if he had the chance you’d be next to deal with his abuse…”

The thought of his old pal hurting him…it scared him but he kept defending and even told Anya he knew him…what kind of person says that to someone who’s traumatized. Curly truly didn’t have anything else to say. While [Name] remains stoic, “…..Heh Pony Express will dock our pay…tragic huh? Our pay will get docked because these damned fools practically set us up for an abusive…work space..”

[Name] slides to the floor, “Then again, being laid off especially after all this. I’d rather just spend time in jail and watch Jimmy follow suite with Pony Express..”

“[Name] you don’t mean that-“

They cut hum off with a cold glare, it was the fact that they did mean it. They wanted to face the consequences, take responsibility for the harm they caused. [Name] remains in their room, occasionally going out to help Jimmy or co pilot with Curly. The occasional simple conversation between the two, overlaps the fear [Name] had “…..It’s tragic ain’t it. Going to jail, especially with how I am…or maybe Pony Express will force us to do an NDA….”

Curly looks at them, while they glance at him. “Captain…did you plan to help Jimmy?”

“No! I just- I wanted to fix everything but-“

[Name] sighs, “You’re only human, I can only blame you for your naivety and incapability towards handling it like a captain under stress…but then again, if Jimmy weren’t your friend would you have. Say I don’t know….” Curly felt hurt at those words, did they truly not deem him worthy?

“It’s not that I find you incapable of being captain. It’s just, how you let him verbally abuse…you…what was he like outside of Pony Express?” It was quiet, and the two went back to being quiet. “….I’m sorry. You aren’t perfect or bad, but you’re not good either…this is Jimmy’s and Pony Express’s fault..”

Curly holds his co worker’s hand and they share a semblance together, some hours later that they walked out and note Jimmy’s incapacitated state. “What? You both here to mock me?”

Curly sighs, “….I assumed you were misunderstood and going through a lot…” Jimmy remains quiet. “[Name] will face their time in solitary confinement but you. You have to take responsibility…”

He helps Jimmy to his bedroom from the medbay, “Whether you like it or not.”

Pony Express shut down. But ended up getting sued for abusive behavior and conduct for the work space of its employees. Jimmy was arrested and sentenced, while [Name] they were deemed unfit to be working with others for the time being. So they were sentenced to probation, Curly used that opportunity to have them stay at his home until things got better.

Anya, while the unborn baby was miscarried, due to stress and the lack of food nutrients for her. She chose to try and get back into the medical field, [Name] helped using their money from Pony Express including money they saved over the years. Daisuke after he found out used this opportunity to help Anya and asked his mother for help as well, Swansea while he was gruff and strict.

It was obvious he cared for their safety and while he did go on low contact with them after the trip for his retirement vacation, he made sure to support the two. Once he returned though, it was sort of emotional, Daisuke had became a mechanic and enjoyed his passion as an artist. Curly oddly enough was working with [Name] on his next job coverage, “You like skiing, why not just work at some snow resort…or you could try, not sure get a job as a manager at some deliverance company…”

“Yea right.” Curly chuckles, “The snow resort works…”

He types in a resume. Making sure to include his portfolio, “You plan on getting a job?”

“They plan to put “Shot coworker” as my background check so, not sure…I did plan on working at a library or a garden center…”

He clears his throat when Anya walks in and kisses [Name] on the cheek, “You’ll figure it out. We know the truth, if you ever need help just recommend us.”

Hearing that reassurance was enough to convince them to work on it, meanwhile this ankle monitor was not flattering. “….Jeez…how many more months?”

“About four? You did say it was self defense but ya know how the system is, also Daisuke and Swansea are coming over.” [Name] groans while leaning on Anya’s chest.

“Man…our throuple coupling is going to confuse them.”

“Well not really, you and Anya are together and I’m the boyfriend kind of guy who’s friends with Anya and dating you- why are you staring?” Their side eyeing makes Anya chuckle, indeed they were living together. But jeez is Curly’s jokes terrible.

Didn’t stop the soon to be doctor from laughing, meanwhile Daisuke busts in with Swansea behind him. “Hello everyone! Your favorite mechanic is here!”

“Yea yea, shut it and get inside. I don’t know how Curly can handle such cold areas!” Swansea walks in with some cans of Arizana tea, “Got us some tea.” When he set them down, [Name] and Daisuke grabbed a can then drank them immediately.

“Alright so how’s med school?”

Anya beams at Daisuke’s question, “So I’ve been studying the human anatomy and also got in trouble for questioning my instructor, which it made sense. They were talking about how some people have higher pain tolerance which just simply isn’t possible for one group. It’s a rare occurrence and medical condition that will kill someone.”

[Name] leans on their companion, “Ah my beautiful doctor is so smart….” They chuckle when Anya pushes their face to the side. “And to make things better, I have straight As in my class. Just gotta watch [Name] they won’t stop eating sweet cereal.”

“Those peanut butter Crunxhes are good.” Giving them a playful eye roll, the three converse while Curly and Swansea exchange some words. “So, any updates?”

Curly shakes his head, “He just….sorta pleaded guilty. His final words to me was that he would’ve taken care of it…I…he was delusional, I was too blind to see…” Swansea places a hand on his shoulder.

“Curly the best ya could do was listen and acknowledge. It’s a good thing you had [Name], otherwise who knows what would’ve happened.”

Curly thinks back to his last conversation with Jimmy.

“Guess you got what you wanted huh? Leaving me behind, climbing up that ladder of yours?” It was quiet between the two so called friends.

“Curly…I’m sorry, I never meant-“

“Sorry for what….”

“For what I did, I’m taking responsibility.” Curly stares at him with a cold glare, “Taking responsibility for what?”

It goes quiet again. Then Jimmy starts to question him, “Can’t a guy apologize without you questioning his apology? I said sorry-“

“Thats the thing Jimmy. You’re not really sorry, because if you were you would’ve said why. It was easy to admit to it in court because to you it relieves you of having to actually apologize to Anya…doesn’t it? Heh, I just know if [Name] weren’t around we’d all be dead because of you…tragic how all it takes was for another person, and the loss of Anya’s autonomy, to make me understand how terrible you are…I’m a terrible Captain. But that doesn’t matter to you, as long as you get some form of authority over someone right?”

Curly stands, “You’re a mess, and I’m not cleaning you up…”

With that he left, leaving Jimmy alone to his own accord.

—

[Name] nudges Curly, their hand rests on him. “You okay?”

He lets [Name] lay on his shoulder while he sighs tiredly, “I’m tired…and a fool..”

“You’re just…imperfect Curly, I’d feel safe with you in terms of happiness and joy but it’d take time to rekindle the safety of support. But I thank you for helping Anya and I out…” Curly presses his head on theirs, they stay still before hugging comfortably.

“I’ll go to the guest room, Anya probably needs her companion during smash bros against Daisuke and Swansea.” [Name] waves while Curly shakes his head, “Agreed, I’ll just be alone…..and watching Kdramas.”

“…….Me and the crew will be out in two.”

That night they watched Kdramas with Daisuke and Swansea.

[sonic-fan-01]

Probably not a hot take from me, but...

Sonic The Hedgehog 3 is one of the best family films of 2024.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

It's not a perfect adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2 by any means, but it cleans up a lot of the unessary stuff from the game.

Especially in regards to Maria and the ARK.

I LOVE that the Space Colony ARK doesn't exist in this movie. Because the movie knows it doesn't need it. All it needs to adapt is the research facility where Maria dies and the Eclipse Cannon.

Gerald Robotnik is an interesting character in the film for sure. He still has the same hatred he harbored for humanity in SA2, but with the added bonus of resentment for his grandson, Ivo because, in his own words...

"You're no Maria."

Gerald definitely is playing favorites, and I think it's abundantly clear why. He sees himself in Ivo, and it disgusts him. Whereas with Maria, he can only remember her innocence.

Speaking of Ivo, man, he's great. I mean, he's just all over the place in this film. He's good, he'd bad... and he sure as hell is funny. He and Stone are great, and I love how he finally admits his true thoughts about him during his sacrifice. Stone deserved to be validated for all the shit Ivo put him through over the years.

Now, I wanna move on to our meat and potatoes. Sonic and Shadow. They're phenomenal. Sonic is pretty much the same as he was in Sonic 2, with a little bit of added angst, which is due entirely to the film's themes about family, morality, and loss. Shadow is... jesus... he was amazing. He was everything I wanted him to be. Cool, dark, yet understanding. That being said, I wish they spent more time on Shadow dealing with the issue of what Maria wanted VS getting revenge on GUN with Gerald. I think extending Shadow's conversation with Gerald about their plan and Maria's wish would have done this perfectly and, in turn, better set up his switch to the good side so it's not as "oh yeah I guess we're doing this now."

"Live and Learn."

Okay, time for me to gush about Crush 40.

First of all, SEGA needs to pay Johnny G. what he's owed. Second...

HOLY FUCK

Live and Learn is everywhere in this thing. It's basically Shadow's theme for this film, playing in moments where he's either doing cool shit, or turning further to the light.

And when it played when Sonic and Shadow went Super on the fucking moon?! Oh my god, I would've screamed if it weren't for the fact I was in a public movie theater. You do NOT understand what this means for the next few films. We might actually get songs like "What I'm Made Of" or "His World" adapted for these movies if they keep doing well.

And I don't need a masters degree in Sonic-The-Hedgehogology to tell you how COOL that would be.

Speaking of Sonic, I wanna turn it back to talk about him and Tom. Dude. I love how Tom is immediately ready to join Sonic on his adventures. He loves this kid and wants to support him in any way he can, and I bet Sonic's so happy Tom wants to Hero with him.

"What did you do."

Tom's injury towards the end actually hurt me a bit. I didn't realize how much I cared about him until they played with the possibility of his death in this film. Also, I love what it meant to Sonic. We've seen in Sonic 2 that Sonic has some pent-up aggression for the echidna that killed Longclaw, that he never really properly expresses. The possibility of losing Tom, his best friend and father figure, the first person he connected with after years of isolation, it drives Sonic into a dark mindset. And. I. Love it.

This is what modern Sonic stories need. To give Sonic a wide variety of emotions, for him to act rashly if his closest friends and family are hurt, because it gives him more personality and shows us just how much he cares.

"What was his name...? Tom...?"

I loved everything about the scenes where Tom is hinted at being dead. I love how Shadow sees Sonic's reaction to Tom's potential death, and he has a small realization that he's become just like who he hated. I love watching Sonic panicking because he might be losing his best friend and father. I love how Maddie tries to keep a hold of herself for the sake of Team Sonic. I love the argument between Knuckles and Sonic about the use of the Master Emerald. I love the fight between Super Shadow and Super Sonic. I love how Shadow criticizes Sonic for letting his blind rage take over. I love how he wants Sonic to finish the job, and Sonic realizes what he's doing.

"The light shines, even though the star is gone..."

Sonic and Shadow's brief conversation on the moon is actually really sweet. They share a connection through their losses, and Sonic is able to guide Shadow to the light, by simply telling him to make the right choice. I think it's great because up until now, I think Shadow believed what he was doing WAS the right thing. But after seeing himself become like the GUN agents who ended up killing Maria... He starts to doubt himself. He goes to Gerald, who reassures him that what they're doing is justified, but Shadow doesn't believe that. Note how in that scene he asks if "this is what Maria would have wanted." Gerald responds by basically ignoring his question, saying that destroying earth is what deserves to happen to it. Gerald's own attitude led to his downfall. It's what caused Shadow to realize that he's on the wrong side of the fight by the time Sonic and him are on the moon, sulking.

"There are no winners with revenge."

I love this line from Sonic. It says so much about his past experiences from the last 2 films. He's seen revenge constantly ruin his life. So to be the one delivering it...? It goes against everything he's stood for, crosses a line he doesn't want to cross, and most importantly, sets him up for failure.

"Don't tell me you have a catchphrase.."

I like the comradery between Sonic and Shadow in the Super Hogs v GUN drones fight. They have a newfound understanding for each other that I think would have been able to make them better friends had it not been for Shadow's sacrifice, which will probably lead to the amnesia plot lines from Heroes and Shadow 05, which means it'll probably make Shadow a Sonic hater again. But then again, these movies keep surprising me, so who knows, maybe we won't go that route?

"What..? Who are you?"

Speaking of surprises.

FUCKING. METALIX.

And AMY MOTHERFUCKING ROSE.

Holy fuck. You all have no idea how hype this is. Unfortunately, I can say much in terms of predictions, but I think we'll be in for a treat come 2027.

[thoughtscout]

former trans-identified, definitely because of sexual trauma, autism & deep hatred of enforced gender roles. as a 12-14 yo teenager I felt I could never be gender non-conforming enough to escape the disgusting feeling of knowing what my body made me in other peoples' eyes. it made my skin crawl; it felt like a prison.

I cut my hair, bound my chest and changed my preferred name & pronouns. went through gruelling bullying at school over it, and my parents weren't helpful in any way either. eventually got taken to a gender clinic but the long waitlist made the appointments so spaced out that I actually started losing interest in HRT & surgery over time. looking back now it's kind of scary thinking about how easy it might have been for me to access those things. they offered the path to them right up to me.

around 18 I went through a bit of a shift and started leaning more towards nonbinary/genderless as an identity, because I didn't feel the need to strive for 'masculinity' to replace and obfuscate my female-ness any more. wasn't at all interested in HRT; considered top surgery as a future possibility since my breasts were (and still are) my main dysphoria, but also felt pretty squeamish about the permanence of the decision. since starting to think about things more authentically with myself, I recognized the role my trauma & autism played in my earlier stages of identity.

also started thinking about gender in a way I realized was sort of different to both the conservative and the trans view. I understood that what people were referring to as 'gender' was actually just accumulated, abstract perceptions of typically 'feminine' and 'masculine' energy, and I felt intuitively that we all naturally contained some combination of them anyway, so I didn't really understand what made identifying with gender so hugely important to some people, outside of 'gender expression' just being kind of fun to play around with.

I was also starting to get put off by the idea of HRT & surgery altogether - I recognized that it didn't actually change someone's sex; it felt... artificial, not magical like some people seemed to think, and I wished people didn't feel like they had to radically alter their natural bodies in order to feel like their 'true self'. I wished we could live in a world where bio sex was just bio sex, relevant wherever it was relevant, and people could present how they liked & use whatever gendered language they wanted without rules or expectations. I essentially wished everyone could be nonbinary/genderless - or I guess, realize that we all already were...?

I still felt strong kinship and allyship to the trans community, though. if it was a choice between that or the conservatives - I'd have taken trans solidarity any day.

I remember literally just a few months ago, earlier this year, staring at myself in the mirror - no makeup, 'neutral' clothing, messy mid-length hair. I cared less about people knowing I was female, or referring to me with feminine language; that stage of dysphoria had passed. but I didn't understand how anyone could look at me and see a 'woman'. it would be a stretch to try to label me as one. by all means, I wasn't performing 'woman-hood' - wasn't 'signalling' myself as a woman through any visual or behavioural cues.

and on top of that, I never understood why so many women presented themselves stereotypically femininely, as if... it was an assigned 'dress code' for them, and they just blindly went along with it. weren't they aware they had a choice? that they could dress however they wanted? how many of them had even considered going against the grain? I wished I could see them liberated from it.

from the brief glimpses of radical feminism I'd seen (as well as the misunderstandings that were purposefully fed to me by trans people), I was under the misguided impression that radfems were interested in making trans/nb people conform to woman-hood - embrace woman-hood (and the femininity that came with it) as a 'social role'. it felt like just another prison; another expectation to 'submit' to an external expectation, and so I rebelled against it by refuting woman-hood altogether.

finally dipped my toes into some radical feminist searches here on Tumblr when I realized they were the only group of people so far who consistently shared my abolitionist stance towards the sex trade, something I'd been painstakingly disappointed by in the rest of leftist circles. I started tentatively considering the radical feminist gender abolitionist stance, running it through my internal skepticism tests and contrasting it to my own, unique views and nuance.

it took about a month of reading and soaking it all in for things to finally click, and for the smoke around the trans movement to clear from my eyes. my past still makes me deeply compassionate to the trans experience, but now I know that the trans rights movement is not the solution for dysphoria we desperately need. sometimes I mourn how much progress we could have made with dismantling gender stereotypes if the trans movement hadn't taken the stage in the conversation surrounding sex and gender. I hope to see the tides of conversation shift soon.

dysphoria means I'm still having trouble applying the word 'woman' to myself, but I don't think I'd care if anyone else did, and am gradually tuning myself back in to the female reality of my body. it feels kind of... raw, uncomfortable and painful, but ultimately freeing and healing in some way.

Rewording it because apparently I need to spoon-feed ppl:

Detrans women and former trans-identified radfems, what made you detransition and stop identifying as transgender / considering yourself something other than your assigned sex?

[spacedlexi]

people dont talk enough about how heartbreaking the marlon betrayal mustve been for clem too,,

this dude saves the life of her and her kid. takes them in has them patched up gives them their first hot meal in who knows how long. gives them a safe place to stay. possibly permanently. confides in her that hes trying to be a good leader but feels like and fears that hes failing. asks her to help him take care of the rest of the group. helps her get over her fear of dogs by asking her to trust him. and things go well. she feels safe. like this place could really finally be the home shes been looking for

but as soon as she finds out what happened to the twins. that marlon planned on giving up her and aj too. she immediately becomes a liability to him and he attempts to kill her for it. locks her in the basement to die by walker. then tries to turn the group against her so he can shoot her instead when the first method fails. and he nearly succeeds

then a majority of the group turn against clem the minute aj kills marlon. ignoring marlons mistakes but condemning aj for his. like clem wasnt betrayed by marlon in the exact same way he betrayed the twins. like she literally wasnt almost killed twice? and how long had he been considering giving her up? was it always some contingency he planned? did he truly want to keep them around and things only changed when he feared the raiders had returned? she'll never know