#i've made this exact post before i think. but i had to make it again

[ice-sculptures]

you don't need to save me....but would you run away with me?

yes 🥹

[nostalgebraist]

Honestly I'm pretty tired of supporting nostalgebraist-autoresponder. Going to wind down the project some time before the end of this year.

Posting this mainly to get the idea out there, I guess.

This project has taken an immense amount of effort from me over the years, and still does, even when it's just in maintenance mode.

Today some mysterious system update (or something) made the model no longer fit on the GPU I normally use for it, despite all the same code and settings on my end.

This exact kind of thing happened once before this year, and I eventually figured it out, but I haven't figured this one out yet. This problem consumed several hours of what was meant to be a relaxing Sunday. Based on past experience, getting to the bottom of the issue would take many more hours.

My options in the short term are to

A. spend (even) more money per unit time, by renting a more powerful GPU to do the same damn thing I know the less powerful one can do (it was doing it this morning!), or

B. silently reduce the context window length by a large amount (and thus the "smartness" of the output, to some degree) to allow the model to fit on the old GPU.

Things like this happen all the time, behind the scenes.

I don't want to be doing this for another year, much less several years. I don't want to be doing it at all.

----

In 2019 and 2020, it was fun to make a GPT-2 autoresponder bot.

[EDIT: I've seen several people misread the previous line and infer that nostalgebraist-autoresponder is still using GPT-2. She isn't, and hasn't been for a long time. Her latest model is a finetuned LLaMA-13B.]

Hardly anyone else was doing anything like it. I wasn't the most qualified person in the world to do it, and I didn't do the best possible job, but who cares? I learned a lot, and the really competent tech bros of 2019 were off doing something else.

And it was fun to watch the bot "pretend to be me" while interacting (mostly) with my actual group of tumblr mutuals.

In 2023, everyone and their grandmother is making some kind of "gen AI" app. They are helped along by a dizzying array of tools, cranked out by hyper-competent tech bros with apparently infinite reserves of free time.

There are so many of these tools and demos. Every week it seems like there are a hundred more; it feels like every day I wake up and am expected to be familiar with a hundred more vaguely nostalgebraist-autoresponder-shaped things.

And every one of them is vastly better-engineered than my own hacky efforts. They build on each other, and reap the accelerating returns.

I've tended to do everything first, ahead of the curve, in my own way. This is what I like doing. Going out into unexplored wilderness, not really knowing what I'm doing, without any maps.

Later, hundreds of others with go to the same place. They'll make maps, and share them. They'll go there again and again, learning to make the expeditions systematically. They'll make an optimized industrial process of it. Meanwhile, I'll be locked in to my own cottage-industry mode of production.

Being the first to do something means you end up eventually being the worst.

----

I had a GPT chatbot in 2019, before GPT-3 existed. I don't think Huggingface Transformers existed, either. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

I had a denoising diffusion image generator in 2021, before DALLE-2 or Stable Diffusion or Huggingface Diffusers. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

Earlier this year, I was (probably) one the first people to finetune LLaMA. I manually strapped LoRA and 8-bit quantization onto the original codebase, figuring out everything the hard way. It was fun.

Just a few months later, and your grandmother is probably running LLaMA on her toaster as we speak. My homegrown methods look hopelessly antiquated. I think everyone's doing 4-bit quantization now?

(Are they? I can't keep track anymore -- the hyper-competent tech bros are too damn fast. A few months from now the thing will be probably be quantized to -1 bits, somehow. It'll be running in your phone's browser. And it'll be using RLHF, except no, it'll be using some successor to RLHF that everyone's hyping up at the time...)

"You have a GPT chatbot?" someone will ask me. "I assume you're using AutoLangGPTLayerPrompt?"

No, no, I'm not. I'm trying to debug obscure CUDA issues on a Sunday so my bot can carry on talking to a thousand strangers, every one of whom is asking it something like "PENIS PENIS PENIS."

Only I am capable of unplugging the blockage and giving the "PENIS PENIS PENIS" askers the responses they crave. ("Which is ... what, exactly?", one might justly wonder.) No one else would fully understand the nature of the bug. It is special to my own bizarre, antiquated, homegrown system.

I must have one of the longest-running GPT chatbots in existence, by now. Possibly the longest-running one?

I like doing new things. I like hacking through uncharted wilderness. The world of GPT chatbots has long since ceased to provide this kind of value to me.

I want to cede this ground to the LLaMA techbros and the prompt engineers. It is not my wilderness anymore.

I miss wilderness. Maybe I will find a new patch of it, in some new place, that no one cares about yet.

----

Even in 2023, there isn't really anything else out there quite like Frank. But there could be.

If you want to develop some sort of Frank-like thing, there has never been a better time than now. Everyone and their grandmother is doing it.

"But -- but how, exactly?"

Don't ask me. I don't know. This isn't my area anymore.

There has never been a better time to make a GPT chatbot -- for everyone except me, that is.

Ask the techbros, the prompt engineers, the grandmas running OpenChatGPT on their ironing boards. They are doing what I did, faster and easier and better, in their sleep. Ask them.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Deja Vu | Jeon Jungkook | One Shot

Summary: Life hadn't gone down the path you had hoped for but the one who made that choice for you isn't someone you want to see ever again. Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook, childhood friends Word Count: 3k~ a/n: I wrote this last night in one go so I figured I might as well post it...let me know if you guys would like to see this from Jungkook's pov 👀 p.s. I got lazy and hardly edited this but I hope you guys like it lol Oh and this is loosely based off of the very beginning of Deja Vu by Tomorrow x Together

My fingers ghost along the spines of the books I pass by, looking for something that might catch my eye because yes sometimes I do judge a book by it's cover.

Finding one that seems interesting enough I turn it over, reading the summary of the fifth romance novel I've picked up since I've been here but when the bell on the door jingles giving notice of a newcomer I turn to see who it is...and I really I wish I hadn't.

My palms instantly clam up leaving me nervously wiping them off on my sweater so I don't damage the book but I can't let go of it since it's my only form of shelter, hiding in plain sight from the person I hoped to never see again.

Curiosity get's the best of me though, watching as he sits down and pulls out his laptop at one of the tables in this cafe bookstore hybrid, one of my favorites places in the city that I'll probably never come to again in fear of running into him.

He pulls a camera out of his bag and takes the memory card out before putting it in his computer to upload it's contents.

I guess he did end up becoming a photographer like he always wanted.

It's strange seeing someone who was so important to you for so many years become someone you barely even recognize. But that's the thing, I do recognize him and I hate the fact that no matter how hard I try I can't help think of him often. How is he doing? What does his life look like now? Has he finally found someone to love like I have?

Seeing him makes me doubt everything though, but that's just what he does. He makes it impossible for me not to be drawn to him, wanting to talk to him, to laugh with him, to be with him.

I thought I had moved past that. Thought that this silly little childhood crush had been nothing but that, a stupid crush that I finally grew out of.

But seeing him here tells me it's everything but that.

I look from him to the book I'm hiding behind, trying to distract myself and with the amount of effort I'm putting in it actually works...for a little while.

My eyes are begging me to let them wander again, indulge in the desire to observe him even if nothing comes from it and once I decide that one more look can't hurt instead of meeting his brows furrowed in concentration I meet his eyes.

His soft chocolate brown eyes that I've willed myself not to drown in time and time again are looking back at me, a soft smile reaching his lips when he finally sees me notice him making me sick to my stomach. 

Turning as subtly as I can I walk further into the maze of shelves around me, praying his interest in me was only fleeting and that he in fact did not recognize me.

After a few minutes of hiding in the corner that not many notice as it's a rather unpopular genre I let out the breath that I had decided to hold at some point, my need to be invisible necessary to my survival but when I decide the coast is clear and walk out of my little nook I bump into the exact person I wish I had never met all those years ago.

He holds onto my forearm as he sees me stumble back, unsure of if this minor collision would result in a fall and with his help, that I hate to admit I needed in the moment, prevents that mortifying occurrence from happening.

"I'm sorry that was my fault" he says and lets go of my arm, thankfully noticing how uncomfortable I am with his touch from my body language. "No it was mine, I should've been more careful coming out from behind that corner" I admit, a common courtesy after interactions like this, neither one wanting to admit it was the other persons fault.

"Well regardless I'm sorry" he says and I nod my head, looking down at the floor to avoid giving him a chance to recognize me. "I'm glad I caught you though, a fall against a bookshelf doesn't sound the most desirable" he chuckles, hoping to diffuse the awkward air around us but there's no use in him trying. He made that decision for the both of us a long time ago...

*Seven years ago*

"Please say something" I mumble, the five feet between us feeling like we're lightyears away, the silence a twin to the vacuum that is space.

He's right there but I know I've lost him for good with this stupid decision. "I don't know what to say" he mumbles right back leaving me scoffing in disbelief. "Then make something up. Anything is better than this" I say in reference to the radio silence between us since I decided to confess to him.

I know I shouldn't have done it. I know I'm selfish for telling him after all of these years and not simply fessing up to how I felt about him long ago but I was afraid that something like this might happen, and I was right. 

I hate that when it comes to him that I'm always right.

I could let us part ways and go to college leaving things left unsaid but I stupidly hoped that we could make it work. Do long distance so we wouldn't feel the need to go on dates or even worry about getting physical if it got to that point.

In my silly little crush clouded brain I thought that he would at least give us a shot but I know it was useless.

I know he doesn't feel the same way about me but I didn't realize it was gonna be this fucking hard.

"Just say something!" I say, raising my voice at him since I need to do something to keep myself from suffocating. "What do you fucking want me to say?" he throws back, getting just as upset but he has no reason to be acting like this, not when he holds our future in the palm of his hand.

"Say you don't like me, say you're not into me like that because from this reaction alone I know you probably don't feel the same way! Anything but this..." I say, my tone harsh but softening at the end, wanting to be mad at him but he's done nothing wrong. 

Nothing except for giving me false hope that we could be something more.

"I don't know how I feel about you" he admits and I scoff. "Well when you figure it out, you know where to find me" I say and pick up my bag that I had discarded on the table I had been sat on, waiting for him to finally show up.

I had decided to do this off campus.

We're seniors and although the rumors and humiliation from his rejection wouldn't go around for long it wasn't worth it to have the off chance of an audience.

No doubt they'll still circulate since the two of us have been conjoined at the hip since childhood but keeping the actual event from prying eyes was the best I could do.

I take one last look at him but his eyes are turned down, not even able to look me and so I walk to my car as fast as I can, holding back the stupid fucking tears that I told myself I would never cry.

I've always been told that boys aren't worth my tears, but he's not just some boy...

*Back to present time*

"Right um, thanks" I say and continue to look at my shoes, noticing the small scuff marks that I had accumulated from the many trips out I had taken them on, anything to distract myself from the man in front of me.

"I uh, I noticed you reading over there," he says, waving towards the general direction he had seen me at, "thought I would come over and introduce myself" he says, not letting me go with that simple apology for the unfortunate opening to us meeting again, though he doesn't know yet that we have absolutely no need for an introduction.

"Do you hunt down and force introductions with strangers often?" I mumble, wanting to be taken as closed off and disinterested as possible. He chuckles and I fucking hate how it makes my heart flutter, the same sound I had heard time and time again, although a little deeper now but no less charming.

"No, not often, but I didn't want to miss my opportunity since you decided to run off as soon as I caught your eye" he says, pointing out my obvious efforts of escape.

"I'm Jungkook" he says after there's been a lull in the conversation, holding out his hand for me to shake and after a pregnant pause I decide to take it, offering at least a common courtesy since I'm not the asshole in this relationship, or lack there of.

"It's nice to meet you" he says and I mumble the same sentiment back, not meaning a single word of it. "Do you talk to people's shoes often?" he teases as I haven't met his eyes since that initial glance, one he found inviting where as I felt was an ignition to my fight or flight, and unfortunately for me, yet fortunately for him, I chose wrong.

"That's not what I'm doing" I say, finally facing him, the difference in height a lot bigger than I remembered, his amused smile making it even more nerve racking, my body begging me to get the hell out of here.

"Then what is it that you were doing?" he asks, a crooked smile on his face but when a couple of beats passes by without me giving him an answer he takes that time to study me and when I see his expression changes to one of recognition I know there's no use in trying to get away unscathed.

"Yn?" he asks, my name no doubt feeling foreign on his lips but the way it sound to me is heartbreaking, a sound that I had hoped I would never hear again.

I decide to just look up at him, facing my fear since the answer to his barely articulated inquiry is quiet obvious to him now.

"What has it been, five year? Six years?" he asks, his eyes lighting up and his tone a relaxed one as if this is a happy reunion, showing that my feelings had really meant nothing to him.

"Seven actually" I say and he sighs in disbelief, "Has it really been that long?" he asks, a stupid question that could’ve been solved by a couple of seconds of mental math but I just hum as a response and try to walk past him, my first efforts of escape.

"Woah woah woah, where are you going?" he asks as if he had a right to keep me here. "Home" I say and try to walk down the path that'll lead me out of this bookstore that feels a lot smaller now.

"Do you have a second? I thought we could catch up? Maybe grab a coffee or something?" he suggests, nodding towards the cafe and I sigh, trying to think of the best way to shoot him down but luckily I don't have to, at least not now.

"I've been looking everywhere for you" David, my fiancé says, placing a just barely there kiss on my cheek as a way to somewhat establish our relationship to this unknown man in front of me.

When there's been another pause with me making no efforts of introduction David decides to take the initiative. "David" he says simply, holding out his hand for Jungkook to shake and he gives his name right back, their eye contact quickly broken as Jungkook's decided to bring his eyes back to me.

"Honey who's this?" David asks in a soft tone, placing a hand on my waist in reassurance, showing me he's not upset after finding me talking to this mystery man from his perspective. 

"We used to be friends back in school" Jungkook says when I still decide to hold my tongue, making this interaction even more uncomfortable than it needs to be but I have no obligation to make this go smoothly. His admission to having lost touch cracks open up a scab on my heart that I thought had healed long ago. 

"Oh, so you guys grew up together?" David asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah...we did" he says softly, still looking at me as I've decided to look away from him after a few exchanges between the two of them.

"Honey do you think you could pull the car around? I'm sure he has something to get back to, as do we" I say, hoping he won't mind following my request without a need to ask for clarification. "Sure love, I'll text you when I'm out front" he says, him knowing that I'd no doubt like I second to wrap things up alone while remembering that we had to park pretty far away as it's an uncharacteristically busy day today.

"Thanks" I mouth to him and he places a kiss on my temple before holding his hand out for Jungkook again. "It was nice to meet you" he says and Jungkook nods half heartedly, "Yeah, you too" and he watches his back for a second as David leaves before turning his attention back to me.

"Boyfriend?" he asks unceremoniously, "Fiancé, actually" I say and he looks down and indeed sees the beautiful ring David had gotten me.

"Wow! Um, congratulations" he says, trying his hand at a halfhearted sentiment but failing miserably. "Yeah we've been together for four years so we figured it was time" I say and he nods his head giving me a sad smile.

"Well I'm happy for you" he says softly and I scoff, "No" I say abruptly to the point he flinches. "No?" he says as if he had never uttered the word before.

"You do not get to act like a kicked puppy because you didn't think I would move on" I say and place my pointer finger on his chest and he steps back as I apply pressure.

"What do you mean? I only said I was happy for you" he says as if he hadn't put on the saddest doe eyes he has ever given me. "You know you've gotten even more transparent with age" I say and he goes to open his mouth but I'm not done with him yet.

"You waltzed over here probably thinking I was just some cute girl that you wanted to shoot your shot with but when you found out it was me you wanted to what? Get a coffee? Act like nothing ever happened? Go back to the way we were? Or did you think you actually had a shot with me after everything you put me through?" I say practically shaking from the intensity of the words that I can't stop from coming out.

No warmth, no compassion left in my tone, just pure anger and disgust and I can tell from the way he's no longer carrying himself as confidently as before, he wasn't expecting this kind of a reaction from me.

After another pause as painful as the one all those years ago I scoff again, crossing my arms over my chest, losing patience with this conversation. "You gonna say something or are you still trying to figure out how you feel about me? Or better yet did you even bother to?" I spit out and he shakes his head.

"I was scared and stupid and selfish and couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted" he says, seemingly becoming more articulate over the years, but just barely.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" I ask, his explanation subpar at best. "Y/n I was eighteen and scared of losing you. You were the most important person in my life, and in some ways you still are" he admits but I shake my head and step away from him making him take a step towards me.

"You do not get to go around acting like the victim saying things like that just to mess with my head" I seethe, appalled that he thinks he has the right to say that to me. "Y/n I didn't mean to-"

"You know what?" I say, cutting him off, "I always thought that what you did, or didn't even bother to do showed that you didn't care about my feelings, but I never thought of you as being cruel. Maybe that whole time you were just toying with my feeling just because you could. You never expected me to have the guts to finally tell you how I felt huh?"

"Y/n please that's not what happened" he says, chasing after me when I start to walk away from him. "Then what did happen huh?" I spit out, waiting for whatever sorry excuse to come out of his mouth.

"I never meant to hurt you..." he says, reaching out for my hand but I move out of the way.

I give him one last once over, looking at how heartbroken and pathetic he looks but I have no sympathy for him and from the way the last bit of hope drains from his eyes he finally realizes that there's no saving this.

He tries once more to say something but we're interrupted by the text we both knew I was begging to come in.

"Y/n..." he says and tries to see if I'll give him one last chance but I turn my back and walk towards the door, my hand resting on the handle for longer than necessary, contemplating if this was the right choice but for the sake of my future I know that it was.

"Goodbye Jungkook" I utter under my breath and pull the door open to walk out. When I turn back to close the door behind me I do myself a horrible disservice by looking through the glass and seeing an expression on his face that I'll never forget.

Loss

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @00frenchfries00 @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater Taglist continued in the reblogs 💜

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

[thr0wnawayy]

Midoriya's Delusion

This is post that builds upon my previous one, I've copied many of the points I made there to here. Albiet with some corrections and tweaks.

To summarize, I have a bit of a crack theory that chapter 430 isn't as real as we've been led to believe. (As for when this actually takes place, that's up to you but I like to imagine the start of his third year marks the beginning of his mental decline.)

(As an update, I find it dubious whether 8 years have actually passed or if that's also a part of the fantasy. I can see Midoriya becoming so attached to the lie that his reference of time begins to warp)

This theory mostly comes from some inconsistencies in regards to the hero rankings and some other things I've found.

Corrections:

It's left ambiguous whether Best Jeanist and Endeavor are still active. However the fact that people view these two in a postive light (especially after Dabi and the war) still seems absurd.

2. Midoriya wasn't outright abandoned, rather their busy schedules make it hard for their days off to coincide. This falls apart when you look at this panel

"The rate of new villains keep decreasing and the number of heroes have stabilized"

Besides Ochaco who's funding a quirk counseling project, the rest of the class should be able to make time. Again it's stated that they aren't actually fighting.

There's no real threat to face. Besides PR and Community Service there's bot a whole lot else (besides the occasional natural disaster)

One could argue it's because the scope of what heroes do is increasing, thus keeping them busy. But again, we see heroes doing exactly what they did before, PR, Advertising and (implied) Showboating.

This leads me to believe that the lack of contact is based in reality, to some extent.

Whether it was by choice or forced by their (1A's) respective PR teams to preserve their images (can't be seen around the "freaks" for too long, now can we?).

The lie comes in the form of busy schedules.

Now whether that's what Midoriya tells himself or what he's been told, I cannot say for certain.

Disturbia:

For those of you who didn't read my last post, you may be wondering, so what's going on?.

Simply put:

Midoriya's having a breakdown fantasy to cope with the fact that he won't be becoming a hero due to the loss of his quirk.

Im aware it sounds crazy but consider the following:

1. Midoriya subconsciously knows the way he's been treated was wrong.

This manifests within the escapists fantasy in Bakugo's drop in the rankings + the attitude surrounding him (as well as his damaged hand never fully healing)

He meets a kid who just so happens to be in a near exact same position as he once* was (and still is to an extent). One could take this as his mind's way of trying to cope and heal itself, by having Midoriya do what he does best and help others, henceforth working though his trauma by using the kid as a stand in.

*Even the kid's "bully" seems to be a warped version of Bakugo (perhaps this is how Midoriya tries to fool himself into believing how it was)

2. We see Kota.

I believe that here, Kota serves as what Midoriya thinks he could have been had he not failed. Kota is the idealized version of Midoriya here, the unobtainable.

3. A lesson ignored

Apparently people forgot the connection between Endeavor and Shoto. You'd think this would be a good thing as Shoto would be able to become his own person.

This falls flat when you remember that also includes people forgetting the reason and happenings behind Shoto's existence, it feels like Midoriya is trying to have his cake and eat it too

To elaborate, this is a major copout, it allows Shouto to be unaffected by his family's past bith career wise and emotionally. While also feeding into Midoriya's rather toxic belief that forgiveness is required to be a good person.

(The fact that killing Tomura violated this only adds to my theory that this whole thing is an escapist coping mechanism.)

(You can also add the idea that Tomura didn't forgive society for what they did to him and his friends. That likely broke all the "rules" that Midoriya knew.)

4. The Mech Suit is a massive cope, it's the dying whimper of Midoriya's childish hope that All Might will save the day.

This time there's no magic quirk, no garrish mech suit, no plot twist.

No. There's only Midoriya and the consequences of his, his classmates and hero societies actions. It doesn't matter how shiny and seamless the illusion, how sweet the lie.

You can't hide the blood.

Concerning Aspects:

That was mostly the revised stuff, let me introduce you to some new points

1. A Frozen Lake

Something I noticed was certain characters seem to be almost frozen in time, as if someone tried to continue a story using scraps of the original text.

The curious case of Rei Himura:

This scene seems almost stagnant, what was most noticeable was Enji's bandages still being on and Rei still being there.

It's as if Midoriya hasn't seen them in years (or perhaps doesn't want to acknowledge what happened). So his mind uses what he last saw/heard of them, creating a sterile, static scenario. Little better than props.

Those surrounding her (with the exception of Hawks) also seem to be stuck in the past.

It's definitely strange.

2. See No Evil, Hear no Evil, Speak No Evil

Shigaraki is a representation of Midoriya's repressed guilt and his fears. I believe deep down Midoriya knows that, inevitably the cycle will repeat, so long as the system is allowed fester and wallow in it's complancy.

I find the fact that he's behind Midoriya to be ironic, as if to say: don't look back, don't think about what you've done.

A Symbol of Stagnation:

I should warn you that it does get lengthy from here, however I think it's important to get the full picture. Even if I tend to ramble here.

It's implied here that Lemillion's the top hero. This is awful for a variety of reasons. Mirio is a horrible symbol.

All Might was flawed for a variety of reasons, but a majority of these were byproducts rather than directly being his own doing.

Mirio on the other hand, has such a cancerous philosophy that it actively harms all who interact with it.

Mirio is a follower, he follows orders first and asks questions never.

Eri is the best example of this. Even after Nighteye's death, Mirio never truly reflects on the damage his actions could have caused ( only saved by the narrative, seriously it's a miracle Eri trusts anyone besides Midoriya after being abandoned like that)

You see, the difference between Toshinori and Mirio lies in their actions and principles.

Mirio left Eri to die, all for the sake of the "mission".

For all the heroes knew, Eri could have been a trafficking victim and either have been killed or relocated. But no, appearances and "gotta catch em all" take priority even after knowing Eri is in the Yakuza's clutches.

Lemillion made the worst decisions possible. He followed a known murder into a secluded, restricted area (with a hostage mind you) bringing his pupil with him.

Willingly ignored blatant signs of abuse (just look at the girl) and played hooky with thre leader of a criminal organization, who is known for his short fuse and willingness to kill.

He did all of that, when he could have easily detained Overhaul at any point (his quirk being a direct counter)

Toroshinori would fight tooth and nail in that situation. Consequences be damned if it meant saving Eri.

Part of the reason Toroshinori was so effective as a hero was 1. His sense of justice and 2. His compassion.

Mirio is a symbol that can be controlled, a weapon if you will.

The fact that Mirio is at the top shows that things haven't changed and are even beginning to decline. So this brings me to my next point

You may be asking, if Midoriya's losing it in his own mind, what's the outside world look really like?.

Allow me to set the stage.

4. Speculation

Within Midoriya's muddled mind, Lemillion represents both his toxic optimism and a subconscious understanding that nothing has changed. It represents denial and acceptance, a dysfunctional middle ground that's easy enough for Midoriya to stomach.

The truth of the matter is, delusion or not, the reality is soon to sink in.

Something that I don't see discussed is the lack of reactions from other nations or really any insight into how they were affected by everything that happend.

Here's the idea: Most likely they are foaming at the mouth.

Particularly it's the countries who suffered under Imperial Japan in the past (Korea, China, Singapore etc), however this also applies to every nation Nedzu brow beat into aiding with the rebuilding efforts, albiet their reaction would be latent.

Not not only is the attitude painfully reminiscent of how Japan handles it's past atrocities, Japan has had them clean up their messes. seen below:

(you cannot tell me Big Red Dot over here is having a good time)

From an outside pov. The Commission never told anyone about AFO, rather they suppressed any information, locked him up in Tartarus and then sat on the whole situation until it blew up in their (read: everyones) faces.

He then proceeded to: kill over 8000 people (+ those killed during the Blackout period), kill the top hero of one of the world's most powerful nations and incite mass panic. Destroyed massive amounts of infrastructure and transport nationwide, broke thousands of criminals out of prison, destroying those prisons in the process.

Meanwhile the heroes:

Abandoned civilians in mass by quitting in the middle of a war.

Left the public in the dark for months and allowing crime and paranoia to grow rampant, even (forcibly) bringing someone they knew was being targeted by AFO and his forces to the one place they could find shelter.

Mutilated a seven year old girl. Who has a history of being mutilated for the gain of others and patted themselves on the back. (Also having no holdup on how that may effect her physically via her quirk or mentally via her trauma)

Mic: tried to kill a docile prisoner who could be considered in comatose, based off of his emotional attachment to a dead man + viewing it as justified if it meant Spinner couldn't get to him.

Used hospital staff and patients as meatshields (Central Hospital) during a riot.

Most had no qualms supporting a child beating eugenicist and implied marital rapist, even with his one of his victims exposed him and citing it as his main reason for turning to villainy.

Held an illegal questioning* with said abuser while ignoring his main victim (Rei, who is probably the most reliable source of information there)

(*which effectively is like conducting an investigation on yourself and declaring you are not guilty)

And so much more! (But this post is getting too long)

My point is by the time everything was said and done, it seemed everyone but Japan was paying for it.

It's outright stated that the US president risked national security by sending every hero they had to help Japan. (Impeachment worthy if you ask me)

Endeavor's little plan to kill himself and Dabi in a blaze of death ended up disrupting the weather. Very likely it'll end up resembling an El Niño phenomenon, only vastly off schedule and even more destructive than normal.

For Reference [https://oceanservice.noaa.gov/facts/ninonina.html]

Very likely it'll lead to an agricultural drought in the northern America's and mass flooding in southern America's, likely starting at the west coast and bleeding inland. Leading to a domino effect where cost of living surges due to the sudden displacement of people and the rapid loss of products.

Worse still, because the US had no heroes (likely for months on end), crime has likely surged in the America's, which will further impact the rest of the world.

The rebuilding efforts likely emptied the wallets of most participating countries, leaving them unable to help anyone, including themselves.

Also keep in mind that Japan incriminated themselves with the Business Course footage. I don't think the general public (outside of Japan) is going to take too kindly to a known murder and abuse apologist being in charge of a system already known for it's corruption.

The end result is likely be a world that detests Japan, either from a moral perspective (Rei's treatment + the treatment of those society abandoned), a financial perspective (we can't afford shit and you contributed to that) or historical perspective (you do this everytime and ignore the consequences).

A world divided by struggle and united by an immense loathing for the Commission's Japan and the culture surrounding it.

Oh, don't forget there's no finding left for quirk research. Meaning that it's very likely no one will be prepared for quirk singularity to start manifesting in the upcoming generations (Thanks Nedzu).

_______________________________________

Update: Can I just say that Aizawa's lack of ownership infuriates me even though this is likely a fantasy and not grounded in reality.

Like what the fuck do you mean "with the way he talks, it was pointless" Fantasy Aizawa.

Because "Hey Asshole", You deliberately ignored his attitude and offenses!. And what? Now your just gonna shrug it off like it wasn't your fault. To hell with that you had two years, most teacher are said to only get one. As you so graciously mentioned at the start of this shit show of an epilouge.

Heres the moment I'm referring to btw:

While we're at it. Are you telling me it was too hard to get Momo some proper attire all three fucking years she was at UA for.

Not to mention Toru is still naked, how the fuck hasn't she died yet, she is literally exposed to the elements (and lord help her of she gets a cut)

Kirishima's costume is still his biggest liability considering it exposes his chest and back (also seeing as even when hardened he can't repell bullets)

Does Denki still fry himself with his quirk?

Before we move on Aizawa. How's that daughter you neglected, her horn still broken?.

Speaking of which let's look at the rescue team:

What the hell is this!?

Let's see, we got a guy who can only do damage (and his sweat detonates on contact, destroying whatever it touches.)

A brainwasher who only got into the hero course via nepotism and who can only brainwash people who directly respond to him!. A person trapped underneath rubble either frantic or groaning in pain isn't going to be able to respond or even just give consent.

(On a side note what are the laws regarding mind control quirks, does some sort of waiver have to be signed, can a person sue for being controlled against their consent?)

Oh, but wait there's more.

Midoriya running headlong with experimental tech that has, very likely never seen the light of day. Let alone preform in an actual high stakes situation before.

You're trying to carry someone and oops! Something malfunctioned or was miscalculated, now there's an even bigger mess (hooray!)

Who could forget Mezo "they'll come for your kids" Soji. Who climbed the ladder and pulled it all the way up.

Yeah forget that Heteromorph's were getting hate crimed long before the war, ignore the fact that you yourself were maimed by an angry mob after doing one of the most heroic things a person can do. Dismiss Spinner's comment about being sprayed with Pesticide for walking in public.

Nah screw it, let's all sing Kumbaya while the Creation Rejection Clan runs wild outside the reach of the cities, then ignore that the discrimination still is prevalent in the countryside and it's only a matter of time before somone gets fed up and takes matters into their own hands. (talons, claws, you get the picture)

But your a hero now Soji, you got your's. So fuck the rest of 'em

And don't even get me started on Hawks. Congratulations you ignorant bastard, way to kill time and by that I mean for everyone but the heroes.

"Yeah life is great!, everyone hates us, we're rapidly falling into debt from all that rebuilding 8 years back."

"Speaking of which some of those buildings are staring to fall apart due to being rushed to meet deadlines set within the month they were started."

"Social darwinism is on the rise and people are becoming more complacent that ever before due to heroes applying bandaid solutions on decade long, deeply ingrained problems."

"All so the average person doesn't have to think about what's festering beneath society's floorboards, so thank you Safety Commission. Here's your star of positivity ⭐️." - Some random anti-hero civilian

So much for greatest heroes, huh.

_______________________________________

UPDATE 2:

A dark thought I just had, is that the main reason Izuku killed Tomura was because Tomura broke the rule of "Forgiving Your Abusers makes you Good".

When Tomura refused to relinquish his hatred, when he stood his ground, that is when Midoriya decided he had to die. If not to "stop" him, then to preserve Midoriya's perception of the world .

Shigaraki + The LOV by their very ideals went against everything Midoriya has had beat into him by Bakugo and Aldera over the years.

Makes me wonder how'd he react to a person refusing to forgive their abuser. If he interacted with Natsuo or Rei, I could see that delving into a complete mess.

Now that I think about it, The Midoriya we know now, he would have never tried to hold onto Eri back when they first met.

Ironically, he became what he named himself after, a Deku. A puppet attached to thorns of liquid gold, glistening and burning hot.

A slave to his own biases and belief system, now trapped in a stage of his minds own making.

First bound by his past, then by legacy and finally, now by his own hand.

木偶.

[aciddrattboyy]

somebody i used to know

you and kenma had an intense past that much was for sure. but after you disappeared two years ago he thought the past would stay in the past. but for better or for worse, he was wrong.

kenma x f!reader ☆ angst ☆ 1.3k cw: none a/n: this is another reupload, im going through crazy writers block rn so i've been lookin thru old stuff to see if it'll spark somethin

pt: 01 || ...

☆

“kenma,” 

“yea?” there he was, sitting with you in his bed. looking up at you from his homework, he saw you smiling at him. he quickly looked away, face heating up and heart beat running rampant. 

“let’s get married,” you took his hand in yours, squeezing it slightly as you patiently waited for him to look at you again.

“.... married?” he turned his face towards you slowly, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you enthusiastically nodded your head, your smile never wavering.

“yes! i love you, you love me- so let’s get married,” 

“y/n we’re still in highschool,” he muttered, covering his face with his free arm out of embarrassment. 

“after we graduate then,” you offered, still looking at him like he was the one who personally gave you oxygen to breathe. he lowered his arm slowly, a smile creeping on his face as he looked at you. his whole body began to feel warm as he nodded.

“deal, let’s get married.”

these memories flooded kenma’s head as he stood in the doorway of his new college class. he felt like he was just teleported back to two years ago. because there you were, smiling and laughing with your new college friends. 

another student bumping into him is what brought kenma back to the present. a mumbled apology leaving his lips as he damn near sprinted to the back corner of the class. his heart was racing as he glanced back to where you were standing. it was definitely you. kenma wouldn't be able to mistake that laugh and voice anywhere. you looked almost the exact same as two years ago and this made kenmas world spin. 

“alright everyone sit down please,” the voice of your new professor rang through the class and immediately everyone found their seats. 

kenma knew he should definitely pay attention to what his professor was saying. he knew that it was more than likely that very important information would be said during this period. but he could not stop thinking about you. 

kenma tried incredibly hard to not stare lasers into the back of your head, but there were just so many thoughts in his head now. what were the odds you two would be in the same college? did you know he would be there? no you couldn’t have, could you? did you see him walk in? what the fuck was going on? 

he caught a glimpse of your side profile as you laughed at whatever the person next to you said and kenma could’ve sworn he felt his heart stop just for a second. blinking rapidly, he tried to keep any and all tears at bay as memories from the past flooded his mind. 

“alright that’s it for today- announcements will be posted on the class board online,” the professors voice rang through, shaking kenma from his own thoughts once again. a bit disoriented at first, he looked around the room noticing how everyone was packing up there things. he followed suit, keeping his head down as he tried to leave without making his presence known. 

“ ‘m sorry,” he mumbled, pushing through other classmates as he practically ran towards the door. 

“yea next i have lunch so we could-”

“sorry,” both you and kenma speak in unison when you bumped into him.

“ah im sorry i wasn’t looking,” you apologize quickly, quickly walking around to pick up the headphones that fell out of his pocket. not having any idea who you were talking to, you quickly snatched them up from the floor, holding them out with an apologetic smile on your face. 

having admitted defeat, kenma slowly straightened up, his eyes averting yours as his face came into your view. 

“ ‘s alright,” he quickly grabbed the headphones from you, getting ready to book it out of there, before being stopped by your hand on his wrist. 

“kenma…?” your voice was soft, eyes wide with a small frown on your face. with a sigh, he looked at you once more, his lips in a firm line. you two stand there for a moment, the room getting increasingly quiet as more students filed out.

“y/n who’s this?”

“oh uh-,” you jumped, letting go of kenma’s wrist as your friends voice broke the silence. “he’s just a friend from highschool,” you felt yourself wincing slightly at your excuse, glancing over to gauge kenma’s reaction. kenma stood there with his head bent down slightly, hands shoved in his pocket as he studied the tiles on the floor. “you guys can go ahead, i’ll catch up with you guys later,” you quickly dismissed your friends, eyes flicking between them and kenma as if you were scared he’d try to run off. 

after the classroom emptied you motioned for kenma to follow you out, your heart racing as the two of you walked down a quiet hallway. 

“so,” you started, glancing over at kenma as he walked next to you, jaw stiff as he kept his eyes forward. “i didn’t know you were going here,”

“yea,”

“do you have a class right now?”

“no,”

“wanna get lunch?” your voice was small, glimpsing over at kenma and bracing yourself for rejection. 

“... sure,” he spoke lowly, not sparing you a glance as he nodded. you smiled to yourself, shoving your hands in your pockets awkwardly as you led him off of campus. the awkward tension between the two of you was devastating and you so desperately wanted to get rid of it. but knowing how things ended with him, how you ended things with him, you knew that wouldn’t be easy. 

after a small walk the two of you were now standing in front of a small cafe not far from campus. without a word, kenma held the door open for you, keeping his eyes occupied every but on you. a surge of guilt waved through you as you muttered a thanks, walking in and looking around for a table. after sitting down, the uncomfortable silence had gotten the best of you and without a moment of self-restraint words started to flow out of you.

“kenma i’m sorry about how things ended between us- i know what i did was wrong and if you don’t want to talk to me then just say the word and i’ll disappear,” you looked at him, desperately wanting him to say anything, do anything, to just stop acting like a robot.

“again,”

“what?”

“you’ll disappear again,” kenma’s hands were balled into fists on his lap as he kept his eyes on the table in front of him. “you’ll disappear again but this time it’ll be because i asked, right?”

“kenma please,” you reached your hand out towards his side of the table but he pushed his chair back, shaking his head. 

“pretend you didn’t see me today. pretend we don’t know each other.” you watched pathetically as kenma got up from his chair, pushing it in with his shoe as he began to walk out of the cafe. you had half the mind the chase him and beg him to sit down and talk. but instead you watched out the window as he made his way back to the campus, a frown on your face as tears began to pool at your eyelashes. 

as soon as the warm air hit kenma’s skin, he instantly regret what he said. what he told you was actually the very last thing he wanted now that he knew you were so close. clenching his fists, he began blinking rapidly as he walked back towards the campus. 

a thought crossing his head caused him to whip out his phone. he cursed at his screen when he got the confirmation he desperately wanted not to come. kenma would have to see you five times a week for an hour long period. briefly, he thought about dropping out before realizing that was an absolutely stupid idea.

with a sigh, he looked back towards the cafe. maybe he should go back and apologize, tell you that he wasn’t mad and he could never hate you. but instead he clenched his jaw, and sped walk back to the campus, silently wishing all his thoughts would go away

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very much appreciated <3

[cardentist]

op turned off reblogs on this post [Link], so I'm reposting this over here:

it's Extremely Unfortunate that we're at the point in trans masc exclusionism where we have to be hyper vigilant against seemingly innocuous posts.

when the op of this post says "men" in this post she means trans men.

trans men who present masc before (and sometimes during and after) hrt are often clocked as butch lesbians, because they are seen as feminine bodies presenting masculinely.

while there Are cis men who present similarly to butch lesbians (there's a very famous meme about it), how many cis men do you know that are Actively Trying or Want to present like butch lesbians?

or how about the Not Insignificant Overlap between trans mascs And butch lesbians (and lesbians in general)? the amount of trans mascs who identified as lesbians before they knew, who sometimes continue to feel a connection to that community as they realize more about their identity.

when op says "transandrophobia truthers" are the exact group of people this post was made about he's talking about trans mascs. this is a post saying that Trans Mascs aren't The Real Thing. and more specifically, the "transandrophobia truther" dog whistle refers back to trans mascs who stand up for themselves. who want their trauma to be taken seriously, who want to be treated like equals within the community. [Link]

it is a derogatory term that was specifically created by exclusionists to belittle trans mascs who speak up for themselves. it is Explicitly About trans mascs, and yet it's a term that people who are unfamiliar with the harassment happening towards trans mascs won't recognize.

and the nasty thing about it is that op was Intentionally trying to make a jab to hurt and belittle trans mascs while Framing it as a support post for trans and lesbian women. people who don't Already Know are going to interact with this post thinking that it's Only a positivity post.

thinking that it's just a silly little post punching up at cishet society.

when it's transphobia pointed at trans masc people.

I've said it before, but all exclusionism on this site is the same. it's the Exact Same tactics used over and over and over again, just with different targets.

and you saw Exactly this technique with ace exclusion All The Time. make a post that seems silly and lighthearted on the surface, that's Worded like it's referring to a privileged group, so that people pass it around without thinking about it.

but the Undercurrent, is a coded message to hurt a specific minority group, to hurt the target that's Familiar Enough with their own exclusion to read the intended insult.

and by Coding It, by making it a dog whistle instead of making it explicit, it Seems like more people support their position than they do (furthering the feeling of isolation in their victims). and works to help Normalize their talking points as they slowly become more explicit (intending to convert more people).

with asexuals it was "cishets trying to invade queer spaces," with trans mascs it's "men trying to invade trans/women's spaces."

it's intuitive that queer people punch up at cishets, it's Intuitive that trans people and women punch up at men, and That's The Point.

if the op of this post hadn't Explicitly referred to trans mascs in the notes ("transandrophobia truthers"), then I probably wouldn't have figured out what they were doing. I would've felt put off by it (as I was intended to, as it was created with the explicit intent to make people like me feel uncomfortable), but I wouldn't have had reason to look further into it. I probably would've just brushed it off and moved on.

unfortunately the only way around it is hypervigilence (learning the dog whistles, familiarizing yourself with how exclusionists talk about their victims), and hoping that the hand was tipped somewhere. hoping that the people who do this give away what their real Intent was.

and it's frustrating because the Vast Majority of the notes on the original post are just people having fun. who saw a post about trans butch lesbians and got excited and happy. and it's So Gross to see someone weaponize that.

it's unfair that people Need to be hypervigilent about posts About Them. it's one of the more upsetting aspects About exclusionism.

[ckret2]

Why do you ship billford? i want to hear all ur handcanons and reasons hehehe

ALL of them? My friend I do not think you comprehend the magnitude of the task you have requested. I can tell you some of them.

Here's a post I already wrote listing why I like them, and here's a post about what Ford thinks about Bill, and I just made a post about what Bill thinks about Ford because I've had it typed up on discord for ages and decided it needs its own post.

So, some headcanons:

⭐️ While most people who ship it headcanon that they had a romantic relationship of some kind pre-betrayal, my default headcanon is that they DIDN'T have a relationship—mainly because I enjoy making Bill, specifically, miserable, and I like headcanoning that Ford violently lost interest in Bill at the EXACT moment Bill developed a sincere interest in Ford.

Meaning that Bill "LOOKS LIKE MR. BRAINIAC FINALLY GOT SMART" Cipher destroyed his own chances five seconds before going "no no wait I actually want to keep this one," and that's SO funny. I made a graph!

⭐️ From Lost Legends we know that Ford used to date a siren. In the original Greek mythology, sirens didn't woo sailors by singing prettily; sirens offered knowledge about distant and future events. Sailors wrecked their ship upon the sirens' shores and starved to death at their feet just to listen to them sing about the secrets of the universe.

What I'm saying is: Ford has a type.

⭐️ This is a mutual monsterfucker 4 monsterfucker relationship. They look at each other and go "wow you're such a weird-looking alien" and they're attracted to each other BECAUSE of that, not in spite of that. I don't want any of this "oh how could I be drawn to something so strange..." shame out of Ford, as far as I'm concerned his first crush was Mothra, a floating triangle is nothing.

⭐️ Consequently, this means that if you take an AU where Bill gets stuffed in a human body, rather than making things easier, it ironically means that any PHYSICAL attraction Ford had for Bill instantly evaporates. A humanized Bill could be the sexiest damn thing in the room and everyone else in the vicinity is going 🥵💦 but Ford's going 😐. If they hook up with Bill in a human body it's in spite of Bill's current appearance and it's because Ford knows that, underneath the body, Bill's still Bill. You could hand Ford a perfect Tumblr Sexyman supermodel and he'll be fantasizing about a three-tiered pyramid with more teeth than a shark.

⭐️ Bill WILL play Dungeons Dungeons & More Dungeons with Ford, voluntarily, for fun. However he always wants to DM and he's brutal.

⭐️ I think that the majority of the Henchmaniacs used to be like Ford: young, naive, USEFUL aliens that Bill was trying to manipulate into getting access to their universes, probably by trying to get THEM to build portals. None succeeded, but they got far enough along that either they chose to join Bill, they were forced to flee their dimension and join Bill—or, due to Bill, their home no longer existed, so they might as well join him. I think that every one of them was once his ✨favorite✨ person. I think he sealed the deal in winning their friendship & loyalty with a calculated, scripted display of vulnerability—the exact same one he tried to use on Ford: I liberated my constricting, flat world; I want to liberate yours...

He may have dated some of them, too, especially right after they joined. Because he wouldn't have recruited them unless he thought they were JUST ♥ LIKE ♥ HIM. They're special, they're important...

... and after a few years, Bill realizes they're not that much like him after all and loses interest, and they sink down into the rank-and-file with the rest of the Henchmaniacs. The Henchmaniacs are FULL of people who were once Bill's Favorite—his best friends, his confidants, his lovers—and most of them are desperate to catch his eye and be that important to him again. They gave everything they had to Bill only for Bill to get bored.

So when he shows off the human who enabled Weirdmageddon and invites him to join the gang, they know EXACTLY what they're looking at: Bill's newest favorite. They know how this goes, he'll be gaga over this earthling for the next 5 to 500 years and then Ford will be just another regular Henchmaniac. The fact that Ford doesn't seem eager to join is no problem. Ford isn't the only soon-to-be Henchmaniac whose world Bill ended; some of them had to be talked around into joining, too.

⭐️ I think that, if you took Bill with his canon personality, didn't give him any character development, and then made him GENUINELY fall in love with Ford, and had him SINCERELY try his hardest to be a good, loving, healthy partner... he would still be toxic as hell for Ford.

Part of what draws Bill to Ford is that he sees SO much of himself in Ford—some accurate, some just projection. (You who crave power and fame and fortune like I do; you who also hunger to be all-knowing; you who would also sacrifice your world and your family and everyone you know and love to get what you want; you with an ego the size of the moon, oh, you deserve an ego the size of a star.) And so he assumes that what Ford really wants is what BILL would want in Ford's shoes.

And if Bill was Ford, what he'd want is to REALLY be the man who changed the world. Bill thinks he's fulfilling all Ford's wildest dreams if he gives that to him. Naming Ford the orchestrator of Weirdmageddon is the most generous gift Bill could ever offer.

Even if Bill is Really Really Trying and accepts that okay Ford doesn't want his world invaded: his idea of showing Ford love will be pulling the strings to get Ford fame & fortune. Teach him secrets of the universe that he can publish in a dozen groundbreaking scientific papers, arrange meetings with politicians and celebrities, get him a Nobel, get him an Oscar-winning bio pic, get him a billion dollars, get him EVERYTHING Ford's ever imagined as a marker of success and then double it.

When Bill's manipulating Ford, he offers praise and approval in little drops periodically leaking from the faucet, to keep Ford thirsty for more. When Bill's LOVING Ford, he just breaks the fire hydrant and lets it flood the street.

But the thing is, that's not good for Ford. That'll never make him truly happy. Ford's only ever learned how to measure his success by external markers, but the more external markers he collects the more he'll feel like he hasn't Made It yet. It's even possible that knowing Bill's helped him get this far will make him feel like he hasn't really EARNED it. He could have the whole world handed to him and he'll feel just as dissatisfied as he was on the day he first summoned Bill.

And Bill, even if he's trying his HARDEST to do this right, wouldn't be able to understand why this isn't working. A trillion years old and the only way he knows how to show love (or to receive love) is by showering someone in praise and gifts and favors. If that doesn't work, he doesn't know what's left.

[plaidos]

what are your thoughts on why a lot of trans fans refuse to portray Roxy as transmasculine when he is in canon? i've noticed a lot of people who correctly gender June and point out her transfem centered symbolism and arc in the later bits of HS/epilogues, will still ignore that part of Roxys arc in the same text and even argue against acknowledging it, like i've made a couple of meta posts about Roxys relationship with Calliope in the epilogues and gotten the replies full of hs2 fans making fun of using he/him for him and outright saying things like "Roxys a girl, don't be a freak." when like that's not even what the posts about i am just talking about his relationships while using the pronouns the text is using for him! like obviously this isn't a transphobia thing, again, it's generally fans that aren't transphobic and actively acknowledge June, and frankly i doubt a transmasc character would be the rhetorical target of transphobes for homestuck specifically, its a transfeminine work by a transfeminine author and that would be the angle of attack there. it seems to be something about Roxy and his arc specifically, something that's really confusing or upsetting to a large portion of the fandom, that doesn't have to do with him being trans but means its difficult to see him as a nonwoman anyway. but i can't put my finger on it--i am wondering if it has something to do with Mom and her place in the story, especially Rose's relationship to her?

it's because before The Homestuck Epilogues, transfem Roxy Lalonde was a very common reading of the character. i would say that back in the day even the majority of cis fans had heard/enjoyed this reading, but it was especially ubiquitous in the transfem portion of the fanbase (who are/were a huge huge slice of the fandom) and there's a lot of evidence that she was written/coded as a trans woman in Homestuck 1 -- she's a hacker/gamer girl with a rifle, has themes of motherhood through unconventional & untraditional means, her introduction page even calls the last two letters of her name "chromosomic" when her name is revealed; there's the whole relationship to Callie (who absolutely 100% was supposed to be transfem in HS1) etc etc. so it's a totally supported and hard to deny reading.

a lot of longtime homestuck fans, especially HS1 fans, were quite taken aback by such a high presence of character moments & motivations in post-canon that are very contrary or even totally opposite to how the fandom interpreted them previously -- see Jane, Jade, Dirk, etc. now in some ways i think The Homestuck Epilogues (and HS2/HSBC) are intentionally choosing to tell stories that are very very different to what the fandom anticipated to the degree that it might even be considered anti-fan -- i think THE/HS2 is very much engaging with what it "means" for something to be anti-fan, and whether or not a story should just be whatever the fans demand (spoiler: it shouldn't), so i think to a lot of people transmasc Roxy didn't come off as an interesting progression of the character, but an intentional spit in the face of all those transfem fans who had been talking about how she was transfem for years. for what it's worth i completely disagree with this take (i think i heard somewhere that transmasc Roxy happened because a member of the team was a fan of the headcanon, which makes sense) but i'm not also surprised that some of the transfem fans felt this way. tbh i have mixed feelings on it -- i really like some of the stuff they've done with him, but i think a lot of the other stuff has not really approached a Homestuck trans-coming-out-story in a super interesting way.

i think, similarly, a lot of these transfem fans are upset that the (100% intentional, 100% canon) transfem-coding of June has been ignored by the majority of the TME fandom (many of whom elect to portray John as transmasc) so i can't say i don't understand why they feel justified in doing the exact same thing back to Roxy -- transfem June had been planned for longer than transmasc Roxy, and there's a lot of evidence to suggest that Andrew saw Roxy as transfem in HS1 to begin with. i'm very sympathetic to transfem fans who felt hurt that the one universally-agreed-upon transfem headcanon was snatched away from them & given to the same transmascs who deny June is supposed to be trans, but i also feel happy for all the transmasc Homestuck fans who got to see themselves in their favourite character. i really like Meat Roxy and i'm excited to see what they'll do with him. i especially like how his pronouns changed over time, getting his style tips from Dave, and still using the same name & letting Dave call him mom. this all feels really authentic, i just wish they would do anything more interesting than like... baby's first fandom transmasc reading. it feels like after Roxy's gender journey, his entire character halted imo.

also i love what they do with Roxy in Candy; i think it's really clever and one of the only parts of transmasc Roxy that is fully really utilising the medium to tell interesting & fresh stories about gender & transition.

[skyeslittlecorner]

Rough timeline of Hell

Tldr: devils are such grandpas.

Has anyone managed to write down the timeline in hell yet? Because for now I'm slowly catching up on what I wasn't there and I have to write everything down so I don't get lost. I've done some math before, trying to figure out how many years have passed since Solomon disappeared. I will quickly refresh this information a bit - Most things haven't changed, but I should mention that we now know that time in Hell and on Earth passes at different times and rates. So today a minute may pass, and tomorrow a year may pass.

For the sake of keeping some data, we'll stick with the average I calculated earlier, because I haven't found a better point of reference yet. So - one year in hell is 6.6 years on earth.

Quick proportions: 365*365/6.6 =~56 days

That would mean MC has been in hell for about two months.

Possible? I guess so. I don't remember MC's exact time in hell being given anywhere, but I haven't read 6Ch yet. Devils believe that for them practically no time has passed, but they are long-lived, there's no point in believing them. This is of course the time of the main storyline.

Now it's time for something worse. Two months is a piece of cake - now we'll be playing with years. Let's start with the order in which the kingdoms were formed.

Tartaros - Definitely the first, judging by little Mammon's event.

Hades - I'm betting on the latter, because when Satan formed Gehenna, Levi was already on the throne. We know this from both Sitri and Amy events.

Gehenna - After these two, I think the third one is Gehenna. When Satan found Sitri (which was during his takeover of Gehenna), the other kings also showed up and had their eyes on him. Mammon and Levi. Beel didn't show up then.

Avisos - Continuing, Beel may not have appeared because he didn't care, or because he wasn't king. I have no information on that. So I'd put him somewhere between Hades or not far after Gehenna.

Abaddon - no information. From Asmodeus himself and his behavior I would think he could have taken power quite early, but who the hell knows.

Niflheim - I haven't gotten to that event yet, but from what I've seen of people's mentions, no one really knows what to do with them. Rather leaning towards one of the younger countries. It makes sense that Belphi simply didn't feel like it lol

Paradise Lost - The last of the countries, what we know from Luci's event.

Why did I present this? So that we could have some first idea - because now comes the math. Again. Yay.

Sitri, Amy, and Levi allow us to roughly (very roughly) count how much time has passed since the founding of Gehenna to the arrival of the MC. Thanks to the fact that events overlap with the main plot. Long live backstories.

311 years passed from the moment Solomon disappeared until the appearance of MC.

Solomon lived in hell from 100 to 150 years.

Sitri spent almost 100 years in Hades studying.

Sitri and Amy met every five years at Gehenna meetings so regularly that they made a fandom. It's quite modern, post-Solomon times. We can assume about 50-100 years. That's not a problem for now, because…

…They have known each other for hundreds of years, which ranges from 200 to 999 years.

All these events create a timeline something something like this:

We need to assume something to be able to operate on numbers.

For minimum: 100+200+311-50 = 561

For maximum: 100+999+311-100 = 1310

So the average is: (561+1310)/2=935,5

This would mean that somewhere between 561 and 1310 years passed from the founding of Gehenna to the appearance of the MC. With probability leaning closer to 935 years, since we have nothing better than an average.

I think these assumptions are enough for now. Especially since we have no idea what the truth is. As you can see, there are a lot of maybes and ifs. But still, I think it's interesting to at least try to grasp how older our sexy boys are.

Of course if you have something to add, add it! I could be wrong on so many levels that I don't even know if it's worth posting this, but I had too much fun writing it (and maybe I'll learn something more from you!)

.

.

.

.

.

Aren't you tired yet? So, I have another funfact. It falls into the category of conspiracy theories are my passion. (They are as you see.)

From the moment Solomon appeared in hell to the moment MC appeared, approximately 461 years passed. If MC lived a similarly long life, that's a total of 611 years. In terms of Earth years, the entire cycle, from when Solomon appeared to when Solomon's descendant disappeared, would take about 4,000 Earth years. (611*6.6)

What's interesting about this, you ask?

Let me quote something: "The chronology [of the Bible] is highly schematic, marking out a world cycle of 4,000 years."

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronology_of_the_Bible

That would be an interesting symbolism. Our ancestor started a cycle that began to change hell, and MC, his descendant, would end that cycle, giving hope for a new, better era.

[maximotts]

𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 ⁘ 𝑤. 𝑚𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑓𝑓

a/n: I like Women In Mouth okay that's all, I think. This is yet another self-indulgent drabble turned full fic and I decided I wanted to post it so here ya go. I've had this AU for a while, but it doesn't have a name so.. suggestions welcome if you have any!

80s milf!Wanda AU. masterlist. 18+ only please. wc: 3k cw: mentions of edging and orgasm denial, soft dom!Wanda, perv neighbor!reader, imagined dubcon? [everything is consensual], mommy kink abound, Wanda's v vocal during sex, oral, finger sucking, overstim, face sitting, brief breast play, clothed sex for reader

One thing about Wanda, it wasn't enough to just feel good; she needed to feel euphoric.

"I'm so close, baby! So, so... ah-!" It was her second orgasm of the afternoon, sprawled out over her large mattress as she bucked against your face, wiggling and moaning with reckless abandon. It was torture to be good, to keep your hands curled around her soft thighs where Wanda placed them, but you knew it was all your fault. With all the alone time you'd had, teasing Wanda and drawing out her orgasms didn't seem like such a bad idea, especially after all she asked for was you laid between her legs.

But then you’d edged her time and time again, bringing her so close just to pull away with a smirk Wanda eventually had to slap off your face. She didn't think it was nearly as funny as you did, no matter how precious you looked with her arousal smeared across your flushed cheeks. Now why did you want to be so reckless with mommy, sweetheart? You don't get to be in charge when you refuse to behave.

You'd gone from being allowed free reign to a mere tool for her pleasure, but still you couldn't complain. Not when Wanda still lets you suck on her clit or flick it against the tip of your tongue. "Please can I taste this time, mommy? I'll be good!"

Words slurred and muffled, Wanda barely realized you were talking to her until you were tapping at her thighs for her attention, the signal you insisted on setting once she started asking for more precarious activities. Typically, she was more than willing to be patient with you, but today's stress made her insatiable and she needed you to behave and comply. 

"Fine, fine just stop talking!" Frantic hands buried themselves in your hair, tugging you impossibly closer as she cums after what feels like forever but couldn't be more than a few minutes. Somehow you wriggled your way down to her entrance, lapping all you could before sticking your tongue into her hole, working your tongue in and out while Wanda devolved into a series of pants. 

For a while the world melted away, the sensations of Wanda on your face, in your mouth, and wrapped around your ears making everything else seem inconsequential. You couldn't breathe, but you'd die happy under this goddess of a woman. But then her feet were digging into your sides and it was your turn to tune into her. 

"Too sensitive, fuck you have to stop-" The brunette's words weren't matching her actions, her grip keeping you pressed right against her, dragging you up until you got the hint to latch onto her swollen bud. The moment you did, Wanda's pleas only grew louder, the desperate chants to please stop, please honey! Please it's too much confusing you as she rut against your mouth with reckless abandon. 

You couldn't get away if you tried; each time you did, Wanda's legs wound tighter around your neck, forcing you to fulfill the latest fantasy she'd sprouted. One where you were eager and greedy and ever for her and everything about her, too single-minded to give a thought to what she could handle. It wasn't too far from reality; you already had those exact feelings for her, but you reveled in being shy; a trait she found equally endearing and frustrating. 

Wanda wanted you to let loose, needed it even. This was all an experiment for her post-divorce; she longed to be wild and free how she was denied to be so long and she was sure you'd indulge her, given how she'd caught you staring at her long before she spoke to you, but damn if you weren't intent on keeping that part of yourself away from her. So far. 

"You're gonna make me cum again, I can't, it's too much!" Confusion aside, Wanda in pure bliss was something you never wanted to miss. From the first time you caught her through her guest room window while watering her rose bushes to today, watching her fall apart in the same bed, but with you much closer, she was a sight to behold.

She let you go this time, neck feeling the strain as soon as you were allowed to move it on your own again. Wanda's legs draped heavily over your shoulders still, but you'd deal with that ache later as it came, unwilling to forfeit her lingering warmth. "I'm sorry if I hurt you... I was trying to pull away, but you were holding me so tight—"

"Turn over." Wanda cut you off before you could finish your dazed apology, nudging your shoulders to help flip you onto your back. You were sure she just wanted distance, until her thighs returned to your shoulders and Wanda hovered above you much too gracefully for a woman who just had three orgasms back to back.

You swore you had a question to ask her, but your thoughts rushed away as you followed her hand trail down her naked abdomen to her deep pink pussy, two manicured fingernails disappearing as she sunk them into her oversensitive entrance. She let out a soft hiss while she fingered herself, holding your attention when they drew out and made their way to rest on your quivering lips. "Open your mouth, honey. Mommy has something she wants to talk to you about."

No convincing needed, you opened up quickly, dutifully licking her arousal from warm fingers, but subtlety isn't what she was after. Pushing forward, her fingers bottomed out at the back of your throat and she was ever so pleased when you didn't gag. "I think you're lovely, really I do, but you're holding back on me, aren't you?"

A garbled 'nuh uh' was the most you could manage, mouth too full and brain too fuzzy. "Yuh huh," Wanda mocked, stroking your tongue painfully slowly, "I've seen how you watch me for a long time, how you brush against my breasts and ass 'accidentally'... I've even noticed a few pairs of my favorite underwear missing from my drawers always suspiciously after you babysit."

"I'm not stupid, I figured out you're a dirty little pervert the day I spied you stumbling away from my window." Your cheeks were so hot they felt like they'd melt off, Wanda grinning down at you like she'd caught a criminal. As humiliating as it was to be caught and cornered, her call out turned you on terribly; thankfully, she was sitting far enough up your body to miss how tightly you had your thighs clenched together. 

Wanda saw your embarrassment and laughed, petting your hair with her free hand. "Don't feel bad, darling. Your sneaking around is exactly why I let you into my bed in the first place. I want to see how intensely you feel about me firsthand; tell me how much you think about me, show me how badly you want to get your hands on me, all of it." 

"Unless," the brunette put on a show of a pout, insecurities peeking through for the briefest of seconds. "I don't live up to what you imagined? Is that why you keep hesitating?"

Your eyes went wide at Wanda's last comment, shaking your head so feverishly her fingers fell from your mouth. "No no, not at all! You're so pretty I don't know what to do with myself!" Desperate hands pawed at her hips and backside, anywhere you could reach to reassure her. "I don't want you to be too much for you is all."

"Be too much for me, I dare you." You nodded, agreeing to her challenge easily. If Wanda was on board for more, you had more than enough ideas to last a lifetime. "Good girl, now let's practice. What exactly did you do with my stolen undergarments?"

"I, um," Wanda stared down at you with so much curiosity; clearly she wanted a real answer... so you'd give her one. "I thought they looked pretty and soft so I took them home."

"And did what with them?"

"Wanda—"

"I know this is new, but you know my name, sweet thing. Tell me what you did with them." She was sitting low enough to feel her wet heat above your ribs, tantalizing warmth reminding you all too well of what you'd imagined that night after you darted out of her bedroom. "Now, baby. I don't have all day."

"I just wanted you so bad, mommy," It started as a moment of desperation, really. After an afternoon facing Wanda in shorts and a near see through shirt as you worked side by side in the yard, you were dangerously overheated and it wasn't from the summer heatwave. 

When she let you freshen up in her bathroom, you rationalized Wanda wouldn't miss one singular pair, but one turned to two and with your third last night, she must've put the pieces together. "When I got ready for bed, I took it out of my pocket and I couldn't help myself! I was only going to use them a little, but they felt so nice and then I started thinking about what they'd look like on you and how you never let me take yours off and how much I just want to touch you."

The truth was tumbling out faster than you could keep up, your embarrassment rising as Wanda's pupils dilated, eyes lidded as she listened to your dirty deeds. The only reason you kept going was how obvious it was riling her up all over again, "You stopped me earlier, but that's all I want to do with you! Just play and figure out what makes you feel best so I can do it over and over again. When I came, all I could think of was you doing it with me, having you in my mouth while fucked myself silly."

Wanda's legs were already trembling, but they worked long enough to settle above onto your face, silencing any further confessions. "Stick your tongue out, sweet pea, I'll show you exactly what makes me feel best."

She had minimal knowledge of the receiving end of oral, the majority of her hands-on experience coming from you and what she'd heard from friends. But Wanda thought about it often for years, bringing herself to orgasm countless times grinding against her pillow and wishing it was some pretty girl's face; now that she had you, she'd be a fool not to use the gorgeous face right in front of her. 

Still sensitive from earlier, as much as she wanted to make it last, she knew she couldn't. Still, Wanda wouldn't let it stop her from quelling the heavy pit she'd grown in her stomach after listening to you speak. Clit cautiously grazing over the rough surface of your tongue, Wanda sighed, once again using the top of your head for support as she started to grind deliberately, "Who knew I had such a naughty girl for a neighbor, stealing my clothes just to go home and dirty them all up..."

"Is that what you really want to do? Get mommy all dirty and messy? Keep me like a needy housewife you can get off to everyday?" You agreed as much as you could, wanting nothing more than to use her like she was describing so crudely.

As she spoke, one of your hands snuck into your shorts, shaky fingers running over your neglected folds. It wasn't that you didn't want her to know what you were doing literally behind her back, but you didn't want her to stop you either. You tried to keep quiet and it was working well until you processed her wetness dripping down your chin and you moaned, the vibrations turning her attention to just what you were up to. "Oh you perverted little thing, you really can't help yourself, can you?"

But Wanda's condescension was only surface level; seeing you masturbate to her was even more powerful than hearing about it. She wanted to be loved, adored, lusted after, worshiped even, if she was completely honest with herself, and you would give it to her. Turns out all you needed was a little push. "Go on, show me how you touch yourself when you miss me."

Her validation spurring you on, you finally began purposefully working yourself up in hopes of finishing together, but Wanda beat you to it. Playing with her own nipples sent her over and she came in a long stuttered groan, hips having long lost their rhythm. 

She was thoroughly spent, but your free arm held her in place just as she did with your head and suddenly Wanda was trapped to endure a barrage of kisses to the sore spot between her legs. "I need to sit, honey. I can't do anymore..."

"Not yet, wanna cum like this." If Wanda wanted you to use her, you would, forcing her to remain still while you took your turn with your own fantasy. You rolled your fingertips over your swollen bud in time with your tongue on hers, ignoring her cries and pushes at your shoulders. Even though it'd be your first, your orgasm wasn't far off, having held off all afternoon in favor of prioritizing the older woman's pleasure. 

"You can't, baby no please don't-" Your lips sucked her in and Wanda's cries weren't fake anymore, the overstimulation quickly bordering on pain. Just before it did, you let up, opting to put your tongue inside her once more, teasing her slick walls while you pumped two fingers into your own cunt; the mirror image of what you'd dreamt up mere nights ago alone. 

"Feels so good, too good.." Wanda grunted as your tongue pushed deep, filling her with such a unique sensation she was almost scared she'd pass out. She hated herself for stopping you doing this earlier, having been too impatient to think of anything but how badly she needed release; next time she'd remember how positively perfect it felt to lazily rock her hips while you thrusted in and out and trust you to do as she pleased. "Please cum for mommy, sweetheart! It's gonna hurt soon, please please, 'need you to cum for me—"

"'m so close.. do it with me, just one more time, please-!" A few curls of your fingers had you falling apart, squirming under Wanda as you whimpered against her fluffy sheets. Vaguely you could hear your lover's melody of noises and when you finally dropped your arm, she fell backwards, landing on her mattress with a definitive flop. 

The only sounds in the room were from the two of you slowly catching your breaths, Wanda's hands folding over her stomach as a series of dull cramps swept over her. "I suppose I told you to be too much so I can't scold you for that," Wanda weakly swatted your thigh, propping up on her elbows just in time to catch you moving to wiggle out of your shorts. "Ah ah, what do you think you're doing?"

She stops you in your tracks, elastic waistband snapping back on your hips. "Taking these off? They're sticky..."

"Aw, my poor little love, did you get yourself all messy?" Shyness back now, your head barely budged as Wanda sat up and stretched; but your eyes never left her full chest... and Wanda noticed. "If you keep staring, I bet you'll ruin any new ones I give you and that'd just be a waste."

Upsetting as it was, you knew better than to argue with her after you'd put her in such a blissful mood. "I know, I'm sorry, mama." It was a term you had yet to say aloud, but the admonishment you feared never came. Wanda only crawled her way up to recline against the headboard, beckoning you to lay across your lap which you did readily. "Can you take my shorts off at least?" 

"Only because you did such a good job today. Lift up," Wanda guided the cotton shorts down until you could kick them off yourself, freedom from the thick fabric making you a little less uncomfortable. Still, the remaining ruined fabric felt heavy on your upper thighs, the feeling worsening each second you rested so close to Wanda's bare breasts. It was so hard to keep your cool when she was right there and your brain kept churning. "You just never stop, aren't you tired?"

You shrugged, kissing along her rib cage as she gently cradled your head with one arm, humming contentedly when you felt her fingernails stroking over your hips and thighs, "It takes a bit more for me to be tired, I think."

Wanda kept quiet, wondering how she could possibly keep you in her bed longer. A slip of her fingers over your clothed sex gave her just the idea she needed. One slow nudge of her nipple brushing your lips was all it took to encourage you to take it, licking the bud to its peak with ease; she'd picked a girl with a talented mouth who loved to use it. 

Temporarily distracted, you didn't notice Wanda's hands slipping under your panties until she was spreading your folds, her touch as loving as it was teasing. "Since you're wide awake, tell me all about these thoughts you've been having about me, honey. Answer my questions well and I'll tire you right out."

[justatalkingface]

for an op izuku story. it could even make aizawa’s reaction towards izuku understandable in a way. smart, powerful midoriya who came 1st in the entrance exam by a country mile, who was quick to make friends and those friends call him “Dekiru” because he can do it. maybe he couldn’t see past the shiny quirk whose only weakness is being TOO STRONG of all things. he’d still be childish and ignorant but more realistic i think. i stumbled upon your post from last year about op izuku and i thought it was a great read

You want to know the interesting thing? That's almost canon.

The thing about Aizawa's introduction to us is that he spends the entire time lying: not just at the end, where he says he was never going to expel anyone and the entire thing was a 'logical ruse'; he goes through about three different excuses for why he's even doing this: first, that they're 'too happy', which was always... deeply fucked up.

Then he zeroes in on Izuku and starts on about how uncontrolled his Quirk is, and combined with his reactions watching the them apply it makes it seem like maybe that's the reason... but after awhile All Might chimes in, and Aizawa unconsciously agrees with him, in that he's doing this because Izuku is like All Might.

The fact that he's a pure-blood product of All Might's Plus Ultra philosophy pisses him off so damn much that he goes through all this to find an excuse to try and kick Izuku out, knowing his Quirk control is terrible... and, as I've discussed before, when peak!human Izuku and his super throw outperforms a girl whose only power is invisibility, he fudges the results to put him at the bottom.

Literally, the the Quirk Test 'arc' is build around Aizawa's vendetta at All Might, Plus Ultra, and, as an extension of them, Izuku. And even if Izuku was actually the second coming of All Might, and, like All Might himself, actually able to use the Quirk from the first minute, All Might makes it clear that, no, he couldn't actually stop Aizawa from kicking out Izuku. Even though he's the Number One Hero.

Because Reasons(TM).

For whatever fucking reason, Eraserhead was given an absurd amount of power involving his students, and I don't think there's canonly anything stopping him from kicking out someone he just doesn't like, and the only reason he didn't kick out Izuku was his weird, twisted ethics that said only breaking a finger was such a big improvement he deserved to stay... and then he did nothing with the whole, 'breaking his finger' thing.

I'm not sure on the exact details, I'd need to brain storm it, but in an OP!AU where Izuku was able to actually use his Quirk I could imagine him constantly trying to test Izuku, looking to undermine him with morals and making the right choice in, like, disaster scenarios and what not (you know, that thing we had implied for five seconds before Shigaraki showed up), trying to make Izuku make the 'wrong' choice so he could have a 'good' reason to expel him, since once upon a time that shit actually mattered.

Have you read Ao No Exorcist? The way Rin was treated always pissed me off, and the fact that pretty much everyone did it kinda drove me away, but that kind of attitude is exactly what I'd imagine for this, where Eraserhead wasn't narratively made the Best Teacher and Izuku was allowed to be great, an attitude of constantly having to earn his place, again and again and again, and passing whatever the most recent test isn't proof that he's 'worthy', but that he's just barely making the absolute minimum.

You know, that, or just the energy Sir Nighteye had in general.

(Fuck Sir Nighteye.)

[bringcal]

This was inspired due to wolfertinger666's post I've just reblogged, and will be a long one, but bare with me here.

I been on the internet like way too long and too young for my age, and I never understood spreading callouts. I don't think I ever have in my life. Before I even understood them as a tool used to socially kill trans people and push an agenda of anti-queerness, I always just thought the contents tended to be stupid, and vast majority of callouts often like to use different manipulation and deception tactics that the average person can easily be manipulated by. I think most abuse survivors can agree with me here that they have at least seen one callout in their lives where they have read and easily recognized what the person spreading the callout was doing was emotional manipulation.

I have always been that person who reaches out to the person subject of the callout to help them, and I've always been disgusted in the anti-critical thinking and pro-harassment sentiments surrounding callouts, because those are the exact same things that I've been subject to after being in an abusive relationship online.

When I talk to people victims of callouts, they often have the same fears as I do due to me being in an abusive relationship: Paranoia people are stalking you, not feeling safe to share anything, having to change identities to get away from the harassment, etc. And thats because people who make callouts and create harassment mobs use the same abuse tactics. I had to delete all my accounts, change names, interests, and stay off the internet for months to try and get away from my abuser, because he would stalk me and get others to do the same, and convinced everyone that I was the one being shitty. I stayed paranoid, and sometimes still do, that I will be "found" and messaged again even though its been 6 years since we broke up.

When you have experience yourself in this sort of thing, you realize people who change their identities to get away from callouts aren't trying to "get away" due to nefarious reasons. they just want to live and grow, they want an actual support system and to be better, and never consented to their faults being publicized, and a lot of the time their faults being put on them have never even happened, or are blown out of proportion. It started to click when you realize callouts often try their best to dehumanize the person at hand, and really try to hammer in the " born inherently evil" or "too far gone" point to get people to socially outcast their victims. It often works even with people who would normally be against that sort of thing, I notice a lot of people end up deleting the callout they helped spread later saying they don't actually care or realize how ridiculous the op is being, without realizing the op still got what they wanted. Callouts only spread if theyre able to get you to that " reactionary " level of emotion to manipulate you to just doing anything.

People don't realize that the thing theyre doing actually has lasting effects on the other person. The thing you reblog that you care about for 2 days and then forget will follow the other person forever, because TERFs and Kiwifarms motherfuckers are a different breed of passionate for harassment. My IRL bestfriend I've known for a decade has a girlfriend who made a joke 6 years ago that went viral that everyone took seriously and she still, to this day, gets messages harassing her. The joke wasnt even offensive or directed at anyone, people literally just hated her because she was a communist.

So anyways, I don't like callout posts and neither should you. Make no exception. Literally just keep it to yourself and gossip with friends. Reactionary harassment campaigns do nothing. You're one "fuck up" or one "walking into the wrong person" to getting one yourself. Don't allow callout makers to turn your brain off.

[opluffys]

Personal-

posted first to my archive- you can read ‘mentor mentee’ for more context if you’d like, but you can also read this blind! pls let me know if there are any errors and i hope you enjoy!

tags- rough sex, size difference, size kink, angst, toxic relationship, internal conflict, creampie, vaginal sex, mating press, fem reader.

4k words.

-Ghost x Reader-

-nsfw/smut-

Forcing yourself to drag your stare from the monotonous and drab documents onto him, standing there in all of his terrifying glory. Mountainous and big, all of him, from his behaviour to his looks. You were tired of it, of him. Lies.

You wondered what brought him in this time. Part of you had already known, though.

"Did you fuck him again?"

You scoffed, clicking your pen and setting it down gently, the dark ink setting to dry over the tinted pages. You had wanted to tell him a false truth, but is it really false? A growing bit of you had wanted to scurry back to Price, sticking to his side just as you'd done for Ghost.

"Why does that matter?" You began to kick your shoes off, knowing what would happen in the next few moments. Bent over the desk and fucked until broken sounds left you, like always.

Ghost stilled, displeased with your response. He'd not yet closed the distance between you two, not yet sealing your fate for the night. To be sore and stuffed full of him, is what you'd anticipated, thighs squeezing together as you started to reminisce.

What good were you though, if you were just made to say yes? To always listen and mindlessly obey whatever Ghost would say and ask of you. You attempted to will away whatever lecherous thoughts that compelled you, standing from your office chair.

"There's always something I've wanted to ask you. Something I've been too afraid to even think of." You laughed, a saddened and dry sound. You forced yourself to continue on with your complex dialogue.

"Can you tell me Ghost? What you and I are to one another?" Your question was desperate, tone shaky and eyes glossy. You'd constructed a perfect answer within your muddied mind, hoping that he'd say what you'd wanted to hear, overcome with something to falsify that answer.

You waited for his reply, your stare stuck on his dark one. You loathed looking into his eyes, because they told you everything you'd wanted to know. You knew he had an answer, one so intricate and lengthy, he himself was unaware- the thing that had been so utterly amusing though, was that you were equally as unknowing, too.

And like a true spirit, he'd left as silently as he'd appeared.

•

A muted moan left your lips, bent and folded in an impossible, nearly, position, taking Ghost into your pussy. His large and gloved hands were on the backs of your knees, pushing and folding your legs to compress your entire being. The large and ill-fitting shirt hung off of your body as he pushed into your heat, oddly gently, eye contact starting to make you nervous and nauseous.

He continued to feed his large cock into you, leaving just a bit of him to keep you stretched open before shoving himself back in. You cried out to him, your hands tangled into the cheap sheets of his bed, and- his bed? Your eyes popped open, scanning your surroundings, and oh, how the hell did you end up here? In his supposed safe haven, his fucking home.

How had the stars aligned for the two of you to get a break at the same exact time? Not so much as a break, more like a medically related one for Ghost, and you'd been forced to go watch over him, since he was notorious for not trusting other hospitals. The man barely trusted anyway, this was not at all surprising. This all made sense, but how you'd gotten into this position hadn't.

A soft squeeze at your plush flesh had your eyes flickering back to his, "Look at me while I fuck you."

Your breath hitched, legs opting to close, being stopped by him. He pulled out again, slow, slower than he's ever gone with you before. You were used to a rabid and animalistic pace, one that would shake you back and forth from his thrusts alone. But this? Leisure and slow, powerful and strong thrusts of his cock inside your walls, deep eye contact, those honey eyes with light lashes staring down at you. Ever so slightly narrowing when you'd squeezed him in such a way, tight and snug around his thick girth.

You, for once, stared right back at him. Through your tears at your waterline threatening to flow, through thickened lashes, you stared at him, just as he'd wanted you to. Just his tip was inside of you now, and he waded himself back in, watching and appraising your reaction. Every twitch of your body, how your legs tried to close, how your pussy spasmed around his cock and tried force him out- all of it.

Ghost struggled to get all of him inside of you, so used to just having you sit atop him and laze back, often in your own seat. He'd watch, somewhat amused, as you rode him, so fervent, hands behind your back while you would moan and whisper whatever it was you'd said. He'd, when feeling generous, roll his hips up into you to meet you halfway, watching as your eyes opened in shock when you felt him just a little deeper.

So, at a new and all too personal angle, he continued to work his dick into you, hearing your small 'it's too much,' or 'you're so big' spur him on with every minuscule movement from him. Ghost wasn't one to try new things, opting instead for something familiar. Like maybe having your face buried into the sterile cot as he fucked you from the back, fast and unforgiving speed always having you moan out to him in pure ecstasy. But, he was open for new things at times. Sharing you with Price (once was enough for him), having you set the pace, trying new positions.

He briefly questioned if you'd enjoyed the change, too.

Cutting through the silence, he spoke, "You like getting fucked like this? Feelin' me right- fuck, right here?" His large hand fanned out over your abdomen, pushing down and able to feel himself inside. Your hand scrambled over his, cold leather meeting you. The sensation of the provided pressure too much, per usual.

"God, don't, don't do that again." A whine left you, your body betraying you as you pushed his hand down, a timid ask, again, please.

He listened, pushing that spot over your stomach down, the cold material of his gloves making it feel a little less personal- because to be completely true to yourself, you had to admit how badly you'd wanted to touch him. To feel his hands, without the leather barrier, to hold them and wonder how they would feel in your smaller ones. Your hand enclosed over his, raising it a bit, fingers attempting to lift his glove off. You wanted it to feel personal. You were tired of it not being such.

But you were also so fucking scared of it becoming just that, too personal. As every aspect of your day to day life had some of Ghost in it, your conscious and mind having the most of him within, constant thoughts plaguing your mind. These thoughts, for once, hadn't deterred you, continuing to ease the leather glove off of Ghost's hand.

He didn't seem to take note of what you'd been doing, lost in your tight insides, his eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure you'd provided him. Maybe that's why he'd chosen you, because you were the only one who could take him like this, take him any fucking way he'd chosen. You had been the only one able to give him a similar sensation of pure euphoria, just as he'd given you.

"Ghost, I-" A sharp inhale from you as your cunt continued to struggle with his size, "I want to touch you." So sudden, your voice was airy and light, almost as if you'd pass out at any given moment. And from how lightheaded you'd felt at both your request and at the way Ghost had slowly been fucking into you, it didn't seem too far off from actually happening.

Your brain hadn't even had the time to concoct whatever negative scenarios, as he spoke up, "Why now."

Not a question, a statement. He's right- why now? You'd always despised loved the idea of touching him, and you'd so desperately wanted to put that idea into fruition, even though the rightful side of you, the more logical one, had attempted to warn you that it wasn't a good idea. If you'd felt him, then perhaps you'd grow even more addicted than you already were.

You'd take your chances, though.

"I don't know why, just, oh, fuck," You forgot what the hell you were even talking about, feeling his cock just about bottom out inside of you. "Please."

He stopped, hovering over you, a single hand keeping your leg spread while the other was entangled with yours. The ambient and low lighting framing him with an odd glow, one that had you wanting to cower in fear.

Lightly, so much so that you almost hadn't noticed, he squeezed your hand back, an answer to you, fine, yeah okay. It was unsure, just as his demeanour normally was around you. You pushed the glove off, the item falling to the floor with a barely audible sound. You, for a moment, held his hand. Not too long, because then you knew that he'd retract it and slip that glove back on, that sense of protection back on, his sense.

His hand was rough and calloused, but so warm. Heavy in your hand and against your touch, you laced your fingers with his before squeezing, looking up at him, his figure blurry through tinted lenses.

"Go faster, please." A shy appeal, something which your body couldn't even handle, your insides unable to withstand the spare inches that Ghost had yet to fuck into you.

"You can handle it, can't you?" He rolled his hips upwards, his cock dragging against your walls in a way that had you feeling dizzy.

Words had failed you, so you nodded, anchoring yourself to him just by holding his big hand. Your eyes etching shut, before widely opening from a particularly harsh and deep thrust by Ghost.

"Keep your eyes on me."

You attempted at a nod before throwing your head back and gasping, air refusing to fill your lungs as Ghost had nearly pushed the entirety of his dick in. He was filling you to the fucking brim, stuffing you full of him, his flushed tip threatening to bash into your womb again and again.

You held the position that he'd folded you into, thighs beginning to burn at the abnormal angle. You then remembered, he'd crowded into your space while you bandaged his abdomen is what began this all. You don't even remember what he'd said to you, what he'd done, for you to end up beneath him- a sight that you'd witness on the regular. He's never had you so close to him, his face merely inches away from yours. His deep and dark stare never leaving yours, spare for the few times he'd straighten his posture and sound his own moans. Gravelly and low, shutting his eyes while his blonde lashes fell over his cheeks in bliss.

You briefly looked down towards your hand, staring at the larger one that had been loosely holding yours. You'd never even seen his hands before, always clad with leather and never showing his actual flesh. It was scarred, and big- just like the rest of him, full of protruding veins and tendons. The size of his lone hand could fit both of yours within it easily, making your face have a warm heat fan across. You began to think about how his hands would pin yours to the wall, the mattress, whatever, while pounding into you. Feeling conflicted between lust and love, no, this isn't love, it never will be.

Yet, you clutched onto him like it was.

You wanted to commit this sight, this entire night, to memory, because you knew that the next morning you'd criticise yourself for it. Endless questioning of how you'd allowed him to get so close to you, to hold you like a lover and fuck into you like one, slowly, oddly carefully for him too- it never made any sense. He'd either be too cold, which is the Ghost you'd known, or he'd slightly warm up, handling you with care instead of typical rag-doll fashion.

You'd handle your emotions in the morning.

You squeezed his hand, tightly, drawing his attention back to you. "Faster," You plead, feeling his hips slowly push against you, the soft material of his gray sweatpants soft against your exposed skin.

"You know to ask nicely, love."

You hated adored when he'd call you pet names, they just made you feel more attached. Nevertheless, you obeyed, "Please, please go faster, Ghost."

He hummed lowly, pleased at your obedience. His leisure speed hastened, his forehead pressing against yours as your eyes flitted closed, little whimpers and moans leaving your agape lips.

"Fuck, so good, you're so good." He grunted, bottoming out inside of you at last, hearing you cry out in slight soreness. His nose was brushing against yours, his eyes on you, brow furrowed. He's so fucking pretty, and you hadn't even known what he'd looked like.

"You're so deep," Your words slurred, feeling his cock rub up against your slick walls deliciously.

"Yeah? You like it, don't you?" He groaned, sounding like a deep growl rumbling in his clothed chest. His speed was dizzying now, slamming into you with fervour.

You nodded, feeling his hand pin yours on the mattress, the soft and laced hold now turning into something filthy, a means to hold you down.

"Use your words, don't go dumb on me just yet." He teased, returning to the slow and downright tortuous pace he'd once been at.

"Yes, I like it, I love it," You stopped yourself from saying something that you'd soon regret, those three words remaining unspoken.

"I know you do." A long and drawn out moan left him, his hand grasping your wrist as he continued to ram into you.

A sudden wave of uncomforted emotion consumed you, thoughts of how close he'd been making you feel queasy. You wanted to get him off, while simultaneously wanting to pull him impossibly closer. You didn't know when he'd feel like this again, so you felt like you were taking this entire situation for granted- but those conflicting thoughts were eating at your very sanity, making his close vicinity unbearable.

Looks like Ghost shared your sentiment, backing away from you and removing his hand from yours. Instead, he looked down towards you as his cock continued to drive in and out of your wet cunt. You hated how he had known how to fuck you just right, making sparks fly within your synapses, always coaxing multiple orgasms from you, he had always known what to do with you.

His ungloved hand reached up to the bottom of his balaclava, and you clearly froze up. You had to be hallucinating, because if just touching him would make you feel so utterly confused, you couldn't even begin to fathom how seeing him would fare.

That cloud of constant anonymity surrounding Ghost made things easier between the two of you. While you had shown and intimated at your true feelings, albeit rare, you have done it before. Typically when seating yourself on his cock wasn't enough, and you had actually wanted to feel something between you two. You couldn't lose that, because then you knew that you'd fall for him, it's already happened, hasn't it?

He pulled the fabric up, acting as a striptease while shallowly thrusting into your heat. He stopped just shy of showing the bridge of his nose, and you turned away before you'd even gotten a glimpse of him. You didn't care how badly you'd wanted to see him, see Simon and not Ghost. You didn't care at all, staring at the bland and blank white walls as you were moved up and down due to his hips colliding against yours.

It was sudden, his bare hand on your face, nearly smooshing your cheeks together, roughly bringing your stare back to him.

"Not a very good listener, are you? Look at me."

Your stare never met his, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes, please, don't make me see you. I don't want to fall in l-

A harsh thrust forced you to meet his gaze, and you felt an odd sense of relief rush through your system as his entire face wasn't exposed. Just the bottom half, which you have seen a few times, in a more clinical setting, of course. He's never shown you himself whilst balls-deep inside of you.

Well, until now, anyway.

"Good." A quick praise that had you melting against his welcomed touch. You were unaccustomed to seeing his lips form the very words he'd said, yet you could watch it all day. He removed his hand from your face, instead tugging at his loose shirt, bringing it to catch on his teeth.

Fuck, that shouldn't be that hot.

His eyes were on your trembling figure, at times glancing down to watch his thick cock disappear inside your greedy pussy. Gripping him in a way that you thought he wouldn't pound into you again, foolishly wrong as his cock returned within your cunt with a low groan. The gauze covering his abdomen following every light twitch from his stomach having you watch with embarrassing intent.

Your thighs burned as they were spread to their limit, one of your hands grabbing at the sheets as your very life depended on it. The the other was clutching tightly at his inked arm, nails biting into the decorated skin, he grunted as your nails raked over his arm, his thrusts halting as he felt his own orgasm creep up on him.

Normally, he would speak during this period, tell you how perfect you were for him. But, he kept quiet, due to the fabric of his shirt in his mouth, or maybe he just wasn't in the mood. You didn't know, you didn't care, you were lost in the way his cock would push right up against that spot that had your vision blacking out. Your own hips lowering to meet his in mutual thrusts, eyes rolling back in pure pleasure and liquid ecstasy shooting through your own spine, every disc lighting up.

Ghost's hot and heavy dick continued to punch into your drooling cunt in such a way that nearly had you bawling. You felt your toes begin to curl as all of the signs were leading up to your own orgasm, something of which you'd been chasing, yet delaying, for you knew that those rose-tinted glasses would shatter.

Again- you didn't care though.

His gloved hand reached to rub at your neglected nub with passion, having a high pitched moan leave your lips. You jerked into his touch, a greedy imploration for more, your body betraying your very mind and virtues.

Your ask hadn't been ignored, the tight circles he drew becoming neater and more attentive to every twitch and move from you. You whimpered his name, feeling his fingers on you and his cock ruin and pick you apart being too much, even for you. You, who had been moulded and formed to his very imprint, wanting and constantly ready for him.

A brush of his fingers and feeling his cock drive into you just right had you sobbing. Your back arching up towards him, your nails making crescent shapes over his exposed and inked skin, as you had finished over his fat cock. He groaned at watching your orgasm wash over you, humming deeply while he witnessed your comeback to the scene. Your sensitive nerves not getting a break as his pace had only hastened, cock driving into you at the most proper and precise angles.

With a huff, his shirt dropped down to its correct spot, hiding his body from you. He groaned as he felt your insides squeeze him with a vice grip. His mouth was agape, stubble framing his jaw beautifully, kissable lips forming a sentence, "He can't fuck you like this. Not like I can. Nobody will ever be able to, because you're mine." His words were rushed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his cock twitched inside you.

God, you nearly unraveled under him once more at his very words. You already knew who Ghost was speaking  of, and no matter how good Price was in bed, he was right, he couldn't fuck you like Ghost could.

You didn't confirm his words, though. You couldn't, because then you'd have to admit he was right, right about you belonging to him. And oh, how you'd wanted that to be a cruel reality, held in his virulent grasp.

You heard his sounds grow in quantity and felt his thrusts quality begin to deteriorate. You knew he'd been close, "Inside, please."

"Not goin' anywhere else."

While fucking Ghost, you quickly learned that he was obsessed with the idea of finishing inside of you. You quickly had to start the pill, lest you wanted to carry his child. You didn't know why he loved it so much, maybe it felt good, maybe the sight of your pussy leaking his cum after being stuffed to the absolute brim was such an arousing sight to behold. But no, it was a means to claim you. To mark you as his in a way that no other would have the ability to.

And he'd do just that, again and again, and again, and again, andagainandagain-

He groaned, such a low and addicting sound as he doubled over you. His cum filled your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your skin as he continued to fuck his seed back into you, your knuckles blanching at how tightly you had held both the sheets, and Ghost's arm.

The both of you were unmoving, his dick softening inside of you before he'd pulled out. He untangled himself from you, stare stuck on how your abused hole leaked his essence, using his thick fingers to push it back in. You remembered what he'd said before while doing so, 'Not good t'waste,'.

You laid still, regaining your breath as well as your ability to form thoughts while you felt a warm cloth tidy you up. His touch would sometimes linger on you for a moment too long to be considered an accident, yet you'd shake it off and consider it as one.

You clothed yourself, pulling on a set of bottoms, ultimately unnecessary, as the shirt you wore was like a dress on your shorter stature. You don't know how Ghost's article of clothing had ended up in your hands- on your very body nonetheless, his scent embracing you, yet sneering at you, feeling attached?

You checked his wounds and re-bandaged any as necessary, as you were still a doctor, after all. You'd had plenty of things that remained unsaid, to both yourself and to him. You'd wanted to tell him your true emotions towards him, but you were so afraid. Afraid of him, or rejection, or both. It wasn't clear, and it wasn't feasible to build a relationship with a man like him, anyway. With a man so fucked up and broken, incapable of feeling how you felt, even a sliver of it. Is what you had thought, anyway.

Ghost watched as you shoved on a windbreaker in a hurried way, slipping your shoes on as you'd wanted to run. Sprint off into the sunset and forget whatever fucked up relationship was between you and Ghost, if you could even call it such a thing. What the two of you were was truly complex, forever unknowing to you and him. Despite this, he yearned to say a single word to you, a pathetic beg forming in his mind.

He'd wanted you to stay.

[pensbridge]

This is going to be my only post I ever do THIS. It needs to be said (if even only for me). Be warned. (& I'm totally being a little funny & unserious with my words, but I also mean it). but really I just need to be so silly for a moment..

I've been in some fandoms and every fandom goes through this, but...There's no fandom on earth that quite literally walked in with no changes to the picture of the Community meme like the Bridgerton fandom. yayyy! we made history again We are the exact same picture, because it wasn't that bad! I can nearly guarantee you, people noticed the quality change, but it literally wasn't bad like you say! Some of us truly stumbled in here like wtf, and still haven't gotten the answer. Stumbling into Part 1..was stressful, but Part 2 was actual insanity!

like, I honestly don't think some people watched it all the way (i saw something about ppl finishing in 2 hours)! If they even went back, who knows?! But the takes are just literal fables!

I actually think the blind trolls coming back from the dead & thin air for part 1 have deluded some of you into thinking that part 1 was bad (it wasn't; it was good), and as a result made you think that part 2 was worse than it is. I totally respect your differing opinion, but you're wrong!

There are 2 real "issues" with this season and the other stuff is artificial grass.

#1 The lack of happy couple moments that get replaced by boring side plots (part 1 was actually enjoyable to me, but this one I actually almost fell asleep watching Benedict before I was awoken by his bi awakening). But to be frank, it's always been an ensemble, and I find it funny that people forget: People bitched about polin season 2; they bitched about Penelope since season 1.

The fact that they don't get a full episode 8 of being happy in love was criminal (but i will admit my wrong expectation, because this is Bridgerton (what else is there to expect, lol). However they are cute! Naysayers, deny it all you want, but they are literally perfect! They are literally a cute engaged couple, the moms including Lady Danbury cannot help but squeal over them, and the only thing holding them back is that this conflict is seemingly dragged on, BUT it doesn't even go on long! (perhaps it felt that way because there were only 4 in this batch of eps). And I get you can be upset, but stop the bullshit because "WE WERE ROBBED." You are lyyyyinnnnnggggg.

He finds out in 6! Anthony was with her sister for 6 eps ... Simon....avoided her til she had to make the move at the end. If we're including Queen Charlotte, George got the most cohesive story, but we'll chalk that priviledge up to the fact that he got only 6 eps; and also don't lie, the recycle-rinse-repeat episode was boring(!!!!) minus the last scene & the visitation of his trauma (u can disagree w/this, but I was bored the first time watching and didn't ask for the copy & paste same episode).

#2 is the pacing (really the last 1⅓-ish episodes is the problem)- because I wish they made up by the end of 7, which is really more of the same of what I said about them being happier in the final one. However, (which brings me to my point) if they'd shifted him finding out earlier... (again they only had 1 episode prior to do this in (because there was no way it was happening in part 1 even if the 2 part split never existed), ...it could have fixed most likely all of this: if everything was moved up an episode (+ they switched Cressida's reveal + Colin finding out), they'd be fighting in 7 but united for Cressida's lie, then they'd make up by the end, and they wouldn't still be struggling with differences between them in the first part of episode 8 at all, thus there would be the happy couple moments from my point #1.

And I newly realized how this aspect of polin's season arc compares to the others. The conflicts of the other 2 seasons have been more heavily external obstacles preventing them from really getting together, while visiting some internal demons later after the drama; but this season is pretty much just them with internal conflict between them (if not for all of part 1 then for the entirety of part 2! (i personally think that the Debling stuff is less love-trianglry than what they've done in the past & fr he is in 2 eps really and not even fully courting her for majority of it)! Enemies to lovers does have internal conflict between them in the beginning, but it's not something actually between them that's "preventing" them from riding into the sunset (other than fake fighting like they hate each lol i say w/love 4 the characters & E2L). But since Colin and Pen's conflict is actually her (Whistledown) it maybe feels like they are more at odds than what is truly going on under the surface. Because they are established to love each other already unlike the other couples, who you are seeing the journey and getting to the end. While Part 2, you are seeing the unraveling of an established couple even though the love is there and the only important reason you need to get how they can work it out. We won on complexity and realness harder than the people w/bad takes can fathom, they have to make stuff up!

The other (kind of related for some) stuff:

The sex scenes: I get it! They lied (lol)! I hope we get them! But we know why it's lacking; they're deleted scenes; they exist! But the carriage scene - HOT. The mirror - HOT. The 30 second scene (lol) - HOT. But again: K*nthony got 2 spicy scenes their season! S*phne got a montage but it kind of sucked looking back (i'm not seriously hating but you know that it was too much, literally even then i think ppl knew) but plz don't start the ship discourse again & PLZ DO BE LOUD ABOUT THESE SCENES THO, I NEED THEM (lol)

But the love confession.....sssssssss. There were so many!!! *that book one is not good, i'm sorry (i'm being lighthearted here; you can disagree w/it but I do kind of hatttte it!)

"They didn't include..." don't know if you know but the writers make the story. Their story is not the book. You knew what you jumped into. (you can be sad but..) [i am not touching the conversation on Fran. But if we're really being real that side shouldn't wanna be grouped w/the side of The Departeds who are forever the head of online harrassers....by - now causing official pages to disable their comments (you don't have to tell me it wasn't all of you. I know 😔). it's actually kind of funny how I did not know like 95% of the actual discourse those first couple days (and there's a lot of discourse to see). but, anyway my main concern this whole post are my top 2 mcs. [ps the Departeds I meant traveling; i'm not that mean]

The misinterpretation of Colin: if you hate him, then go away! Thnx 4 the record-breaking views!

The baby? Cheers to 2 years in the future w/baby No Name! *lol* I'm not gonna say you shouldn't be upset about the name. For me, it was fine, because I knew they'd be back for s4. Also, preparation guys, I doubt we will even see the child that much if Daphne is any indication.

This show has never been comparable to your favorite Oscar-worthy film (literally obviously!), but the show is not terrible like some very widely popular of what's out there (and i'm not even talking about bad shows that everyone knows are bad). There is some depth to the characters and some ingrained-trauma to living in a male-dominated society with no autonomy, and traumas to the men as well. Re: the choices and drama every season. It's... a drama show! People need to go re-read the fantasy books if they want happy, lack of conflict all the time (and men yanking their wives by the wrists)... Go read fanfic if you don't like the show and a certain couple. Bridgerton is escapism and in some crazy overtaking of loud voices in the fandom, this fandom has been one of the least escap-ist fandoms ever. Because people will be like "*suspending my disbelief*" every 2 secs, but ...babe that's not doing what you just said. There's embellished "Based on a True Story" documentary fans that do this better than you tbh (i'm being a lil funny here, but honestly)

And I simply need to say this, regardless that it won't change, I need the acknowledgment jokes and the mental cleanse. if u don't want to read × The fandom...bro. I'm not even upset, I actually laughed at some of this - like, there's 3 types of people:

#1 offended people responding to op posts, because they don't like what they said; lol, the hypocrisy! The amount of people in my comments in this past month alone if I said something positive...abt the show, abt the characters...anything (new posts, old post) is more hatred than ever ever. The good polin fans are sensitive, but any and every bad typists in the comments are so easily offended...over positivity. Why.are.you.bitter?

"I'm bitter cause.." I literally don't care

#2 people reblogging things they hate to say what they hate. thnx for the notes??? bro, some comments on other ppl's gifs (rants on what they didn't like, crying abt a character/why they hate a character, and sometimes it has nothing to do with the scene gifed).

#3 "I'm allowed to be upset." why are you fighting for this? You can! Go in peace. Some people had no issues with what you say, but you are fighting this because you are determined to make people agree with your negativity no less. If you cared about the courtesy (i know that you don't) you'd let some ppl bask in what they weren't disappointed in & were excited to end the journey with (*and i expect nothing from the haters, but some of this was coming from inside the house lol). The reason you were wrong for this is because YOU WERE WRONG! There are ppl that liked it. You have no control; I get it. dw i'm sure you'll be fine.

Anyway, if anyone even read this far, you rock 4 that. If you got it, we're healing from this dumpster fire together; and if this even made 1 person laugh or feel better, it's worth it. I'm actually good now but it was rough that first stepping into the chaos and I had so many thoughts at first, so i wrote a lot from the initial shock those moments, [and now i'm in the laughing about this bullshit phase] so if u get it u get it (and can maybe have a chuckle) >>> This is literally just your neighborly (if ur nice here) joke!post *we're laughing thru the pain* / w/e to you (if you're not because i need to & this stuff isn't new & that one goes for all divisions of the fandom not just the main contented one of this post)

[just-orbiting-you]

hi:) totally agree with your post. I guess I don’t understand why Tae posts what he does, when he does. It always seems semi calculated. He can’t *not* know that a lot of his fans are tkkrs. He even reposted something on his IG from a massive tkkr account, like? And it just always seems to divert the tkkrs attention back to him and jk in very calculated ways. Posting a travel pic and long caption just before the jikook travel show teaser is pretty on the nose lol. but I don’t understand, also he gets to have his nice time with his (was?) girlfriend and then also feeds the tkkrs(& of course gets jm hate in the process) the best of both worlds for him? strange.

hey anon!

i've had feelings about this for a long time. and i think you're exactly right: he has to be aware of his fan-base's preferences. of course this is just a theoretical idea but i think the conversation is worth having.

and going back to in the soop one, when he is talking to jungkook, tae says that he wants to know army loves him, he craves it (paraphrase). i would like to hazard a guess that he has searched for what will give him the exact attention he wants, and that is posting about jungkook.

i thought the shirtless facetime call pic was weird to post to back in december, with the caption "hyung is going in first, go safely tomorrow." jimin went too, you know, but no post for him. and taehyung playing the hyung card feels abnormal; i have not really witnessed that as a part of their dynamic. all of this to almost drift the conversation away from jikook enlisting together.

and OH MY GOD. the caption over jungkook's face today that says "so pretty i could die." that is like a t@ekook victory for them, but to me it screams fan service-y vibes. jikook are as close as they are and they're not running around instagram posting like that. sometimes other members would make comments on posts hyping each other up, but not to that degree. on a picture where you can barely see his face wearing a neon tracksuit, he's so pretty. good god. it just feels overly exaggerated for fan reaction.

with how he posts about jungkook, it just feels like 🙋‍♂️im here too!! 🙋‍♂️. i travel with jungkook too!! 🙋‍♂️ look at us.🙋‍♂️ im his hyung too!🙋‍♂️

and its kinda sad. because i think jungkook has made it clear who he chooses and i think it is purely incidental from him since he has other interests at heart.

and yeah, a lot of tae's behavior i am deeming as attention seeking jimin does the same in his lives, on his instagram, in regular conversation in other videos specifically about jungkook. BUT. the catch is, that there's a similar amount of video evidence that jungkook does the exact same thing about jimin. there's the reciprocation in jikook that t@ekook just do not have. point blank. which in itself, debunks the whole ship.

so the evidence is piling up around tae that he has a flippant, spontaneous, almost irresponsible facade, but actually could be choosing to purposefully attract attention to himself for his own benefit through the use of his younger bandmate. again, a theoretical, but thanks for joining in on my thoughts.

[slotmachines-fearofgod]

jsnnholy moly yes pls send the link to the codywan fic when its ready pretty pls

aghhhh so life update i broke my hand :( makes typing very hard so i'm not sure when it will be DONE done BUT i did make a WIP of the fic hehe so what i've got so far is below the cut

Cody sighed as he picked up the saber, giving it a perfunctory dust off. Really, Kenobi needed to stop throwing this thing around so much. He didn’t even know anything about the Jedi and he knew this was important. It was their one and only weapon, without it the general was -

Well, not defenseless. In their short time together Cody had to come to know his general was anything but defenseless. 

Cody tucked it into his belt, sure he’d have to readjust at some point. He really should just get a clip or holster and call it a day but the Jedi likely wouldn’t appreciate that. It wasn’t his saber after all. 

Cody strode through camp, his head high, as he scanned for Kenobi. Chances were the man was still off doing something insanely dangerous, but there was always hope. 

So far this war wasn’t what he thought it was going to be. For one, the Republic was overwhelmingly unprepared for them. Each commander had been brought before the Jedi Council the day of their assignments and had it very patiently explained to them that no, no one knew they existed before this. Before Geonosis. 

No one except Kenobi, that is. 

He’d gotten looks from his fellow commanders when he’d been given his assignment. Kenobi had been somewhat of a shock to them all the day he showed up on Kamino. A Jedi, dressed from head to toe in the exact robes they all used to giggle about because they simply couldn’t be real, showed up drenched in the Kamino rain and heralded the beginning of the end for them all. 

Some vode had whispered after Geonosis that Kenobi was a harbinger, a catalyst, a messenger of war. He was the first domino to fall and the clones would be the last. 

Cody largely dismissed this as stress-induced idiocy. Especially after the first three times the man lost his lightsaber. 

Cody made his way to the command tent, resolving to stop at the med tent if his general wasn’t there. They were holding their post well, waiting on the 501st forces to swoop in and give them a little back up. Christophsis was a busy place after all. 

“Cody!”

Cody stopped and sighed. Only one person refused to call him by rank in this shit show. 

“Yes, General?” Cody turned around, Kenobi’s lightsaber already held out toward him. 

Kenobi laughed at the obviously practiced motion, plucking the weapon from Cody’s hand without breaking his stride. Cody caught up after a few seconds, falling into lockstep with the man. 

“I have some excellent news,” Kenobi’s eyes glittered, “I believe my new padawan is arriving. Right now.”

Cody’s steps (and heart) stuttered, “Uh. Padawan? Sir?”

“Yes, yes, very exciting!” Kenobi did not seem to catch on to his panic, “You know, now that Anakin’s a knight I have no apprentice and the younglings can’t stay younglings forever. Someone has to step up and take charge.”

“And that’ll be you?” Came the sarcastic drawl from none other than Skywalker himself. 

Skywalker marched up to them, Rex in tow, and fell in on Kenobi’s other side. Cody took that as his cue to drop back, instead walking with Rex. Cody discreetly tapped his helmet and Rex nodded, making the switch to internal comms. 

“Captain,” Cody greeted while the Jedi talked.

“Commander,” came Rex’s tired reply, “Good to see you up and running.”

Cody huffed, “You have no idea.”

“He lose the lightsaber again?”

“Yup.”

“Great. Skywalker blew up another section of the street.”

Cody rolled his eyes, “Does he ever do anything that doesn’t involve explosions?”

“Not yet,” Rex grumbled, “You hear about the padawan?”

“Yeah,” Cody sighed, “Kenobi wants it to be his.”

“And you think it’s a good idea to leave it to Skywalker?” Rex pushed. Cody knew he had that stupid smirk on his face. 

“No,” Cody agreed, “I think a kid out here at all is a bad idea.”

“Yeah,” Rex sighed, “That we can agree on.”

They made it a ways further before reaching the landing platform. The two Jedi were still bickering with each other so Cody made himself busy with a few of the workers around the dock. By the time Kenobi called him back over he’d collected five new pieces of paperwork to sign off on later. 

Cody stood back with Rex, allowing the Jedi their space, as the ship touched down. He felt lightly nauseous. 

That became full blown vertigo when the child in a skirt and tube top stepped off the ship. He had never been more thankful for his helmet before because he was pretty sure his eyes were about to bug out of his head. 

She was tiny. And wearing no armor, let alone the robes that Kenobi and Skywalker seemed to favor. She couldn’t have been older than fourteen, her montrals not even grown into true horns. Cody could see one saber at her side but he doubted she was anywhere near as proficient as Kenobi. She likely had no field combat experience or medical training or -

“Breathe,” Rex reminded him with barely muffled laughter, “She’ll be fine.”

And then. 

And then. 

The best moment of Cody’s life happened. 

“Actually Master Kenobi, I’m supposed to be Knight Skywalker’s padawan.”

Cody almost pissed himself in relief. 

Rex, however, snapped up straight, his panic evident even without weird Force mind readers around. Kenobi cast an amused glance back at the two of them while Skywalker was too busy denying it. 

“Breathe,” Cody said, not bothering to hide his mirth, “You’ll be fine.”

Rex’s fist shot out before any of the three Jedi could catch it and smacked into Cody. When they turned to look at the pair there was nothing but staunch professionalism, but as soon as they turned back around Cody jabbed Rex in the armpit, right in the armor gap. Rex clutched at his shoulder, the nerve there flaring up, and gave Cody a seething look. Cody just shrugged. 

Brothers. 

Cody and Rex followed the motley trio back to inner camp. They melted into the background, allowing the Jedi to take the front on whatever needed doing. Honestly half of Cody’s job was listening and nodding and making sure whatever harebrained plan the Jedi came up with was at least doable for his men. That and checking the collateral damage. Jedi weren’t exactly masters of subtlety. 

There was still a lot to be done on Christophsis. With Ventress driven out and Separatist forces beginning to flee, it had calmed slightly, but other admirals had begun to press forward outside of the main horde. He was still directing troops all across the capital and the longer he was away the antsier he got. 

“Cody,” Kenobi called his name, grabbing his attention away from future battle plans and if Helix was still good to go on field medical supplies, “What do you think?”

“I think it’s an excellent idea sir,” came the automatic response. It was easier to just agree than have them repeat whatever it was they had said. Chances were they weren’t really asking him anyway.

As he expected, Kenobi nodded and turned back to Skywalker, “Right. Then you and Padawan Tano shall handle Rotta while we finish up here.”

Skywalker had a serious glower on his face but so long as it wasn’t directed at him Cody couldn’t find it in himself to care if the man liked his assignment or not. 

“Fine,” Skywalker bit out, “Come along Padawan,” he turned on his heel and left. 

The padawan - holy fuck she was so young - looked up at Kenobi with big eyes, “Does he hate me?”

Kenobi gave her a fond smile, “No. Anakin is just like that sometimes.”

She frowned and looked after her new master. Cody almost pitied her.

“Come along, Commander,” Rex stepped up and offered his arm, “We’ll track him down together.”

Yeah. Rex was going to be just fine with her. 

Then it was just him and Kenobi. 

Cody actually didn’t mind the other man. He was respectful enough, let Cody keep his distance, and operated with a decent amount of professionalism. That last bit fluctuated depending on the day but most of the time he behaved himself.

Cody grabbed a pad and flicked over to the bay reports he needed to wrap up. He’d go visit medical after this, check in with his medics and the wounded, and then make his way to the infantry barracks. He’d probably be out there with his men for the next big push so he’d need to clean his armor and guns as well. After that he’d go over battle plans with Kenobi, make sure everything was in order for them to seize the planet, especially now they had 501st backup. He wasn’t sure what the whole Rotta business was about but he’d read the report and figure it out on his own. 

Kenobi set his saber down gently on the tabletop. Cody glanced up, finding his general staring at him. 

“Is everything alright sir?”

“Hm?” Kenobi asked, his eyes seeming to actually focus on Cody this time, “Oh, yes of course. Thank you for getting my saber, by the way.”

“Oh,” Cody said, unused to actually being thanked, “You’re welcome. I actually just stumbled on it earlier.”

“Is that so?” Kenobi looked at him with mischief in his eyes, “How interesting. Where did you find it?”

Cody shrugged, “Just outside of base camp.”

“Curious,” Kenobi brought a hand up to stroke his beard and looked down at his saber, “I could have sworn I lost it at least five miles out. Funny how that happens.”

Cody resisted the urge to cock his head to the side and let his confusion show, “Yeah. Very funny.”

“Well,” Kenobi grinned back up at him, “Whatever the case, you’ve returned it to me safely and for that I cannot thank you enough.”

Cody hid a smile of his own under his helmet, thinking of all the past times he’d secretly put Kenobi’s saber somewhere he could find it or slipped it into his robe pocket while he wasn’t wearing said cloak. Maybe he should keep outright returning it. It was sort of nice to be thanked. 

“No worries General,” Cody assured him, “We all lose things sometimes.”

Funny how just a few minutes prior he’d been complaining to himself about what an irresponsible dumbass his general was. Now look at him. 

—

Cody was in the middle of a very exciting conversation about potential armor upgrades for the GAR when he felt himself get bodily dragged backwards. 

He immediately flung out an arm, glad their requisition officer, Fraud, was able to catch him. And then they both started moving backward. 

“What the hell?” Fraud yelled, letting go as fast as he’d grabbed on.

“I don’t know!” Cody waved his arms in panic, something pushing into his abdomen and sliding him across sleek steel floors, “Help me!”

Fraud and two other troopers, attracted by the fear coloring Cody’s tone, grabbed onto him. That, unfortunately, had absolutely no effect on whatever was pulling Cody along. Now there was a squad of four troopers, all panicking and yelling, being dragged across squeaky clean floors. 

“Cody, have you seen - oh my.”

The dragging suddenly stopped, the group yelling as they failed to stop pulling in time and all fell backwards

Cody groaned, having landed flat on his face, “What was that sir?”

“Never mind,” Kenobi was laughing, “I do believe I’ve found it. Would you like a hand?”

Cody turned his head to glare up at him, grateful for the cover of his helmet. Kenobi had a stupidly amused smile on his face as he stuck a hand out to both Cody and Fraud. 

Cody grumbled as he accepted it, standing with all the grace of a beached aiwha and taking off his bucket. His nose hurt like a motherfucker. 

Kenobi laughed as his expression was revealed, “My apologies boys, I was looking for this.” 

Next thing he knew Cody was bodily yanked toward Kenobi before the pressure was released. He stared in shock and betrayal as Kenobi’s saber flew to his hand out of Cody’s belt, pointing an accusing finger at his general. 

“You!”

“Me,” Kenobi grinned, “I’m afraid I was not aware it was attached to my good commander when I started searching but the show made it quite worth it.”

Cody was going to kill him. He was going to kill a Jedi. 

Cody turned to his men and dismissed them, thanking them for their ‘help.’ He could feel Kenobi laughing behind his back. When they’d filed out of the hallway Kenobi had pulled them all into Cody whirled around, furious. 

“What was that?” He asked, shoving his helmet back on.

“Fun,” Kenobi replied cheekily, placing both hands on Cody’s helmet and pulling it back off, “Accidental fun, but still fun. Let me see your face.”

Cody batted his hands away, “I’m fine. Just fell.”

Kenobi gave him a look and ran two fingers down his nose anyway. Cody’s face twisted into a scowl as he did so but he allowed it. Barely. If it was anyone else he would’ve bit their fingers off. 

That probably said more about him than Kenobi. 

Still, the pain disappeared in the wake of his hands and Cody had to admit it felt better.

“Thank you,” Cody said grumpily, still feeling the hit to his pride from skating across the floor for a solid thirty feet. 

“It was the least I could do,” Kenobi assured him, “I really have got to keep a better eye on this thing.” He sighed as he tucked his saber back into his robes, giving Cody an embarrassed grin. 

“You would think as a Jedi Master it wouldn’t be that hard,” Cody drawled, making Kenobi chuckle. 

“Yes, well these things seem to have a mind of their own sometimes,” Kenobi joked, “I put it down in the navigation room for two minutes and it was gone.”

Cody laughed, “I picked it up in the nav room, maybe you just didn’t look hard enough.”

Kenobi rolled his eyes, “And perhaps you stole it while I was turned away.”

Cody shook his head, smiling fondly. He liked Kenobi. More than was probably acceptable. But they spent nearly every minute of the day together, how was he supposed to avoid that?

“Come along General,” Cody tugged at his bicep, figuring if he could use the Force to drag Cody wherever he wanted Cody was well within his rights to do the same. Kenobi allowed it easily, laughing as Cody pulled him. 

“Where are we going?” Kenobi asked amusedly. 

“I’m getting you a weapons holster,” Cody released him once Kenobi began to follow of his own accord, “So you’ve got a better place to put it then your pocket.” Kenobi’s armor hadn’t automatically come equipped with a gun holster as he was a Jedi. He still preferred his cloak over his armor and base robes underneath, but neither of those were good options for tucking a lightsaber into. 

“Very well,” Kenobi sighed dramatically, “as my commander wishes.”

Cody, who was suddenly very glad he’d put his helmet back on as his cheeks flushed, scoffed, “This is for both our sakes.”

“I don’t know,” Kenobi pretended to stroke his beard in thought, “I quite like having the excuse to talk about something other than war with you.”

Cody didn’t really have a response to that one. Kenobi laughed at his obviously flustered form, saying, “You must admit it does get tiring after a bit.”

Cody shook his head and sighed, “You have no idea.”

Kenobi’s smile tightened then, his shoulder gently bumping Cody’s, “You know you are always welcome to come speak with me Cody. About anything. Not just battle plans and death tolls.”

Cody glanced over at him, seeing nothing but authenticity on his face, and said, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Kenobi nodded, “I must admit, I do miss the companionship of my fellow Jedi. It would be nice to have a friend on board.”

Cody felt a weird warm feeling in his gut in that. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the syrupy pleased part of himself and responded, “I thought we were already friends.”

Kenobi laughed, “Once you start calling me Obi-Wan I’ll say we’ve made it.”

Cody huffed, “But your rank -”

Kenobi waved his hand, effectively cutting him off, “Let’s not start that here, shall we?”

Cody frowned but let it slide. Kenobi could be weird about certain subjects and Cody had found it best to just smile and nod whenever that happened. 

Getting Kenobi his holster was a fairly quick process. A few pieces of flimsiwork, a waist measurement, and then it was handed over quickly. Cody showed him how to buckle it quickly on the armor, teasing him about his lack of knowledge for clothing outside Jedi robes, and stood back to admire his handiwork. 

It was just a little thing sitting at his hip, but at least now Cody could stop worrying every time he picked the saber off the battlefield that Kenobi was off bare knuckle brawling with Grievous somewhere. 

“What do you think?” Kenobi did a little spin like it was a brand new dress and not just a piece of equipment. 

Even so, Cody smiled and said, “Very nice. Hopefully this means you can keep better track of the thing now. And stop yanking me across the ship.”

Kenobi gave him a guilty smile, “As entertaining as it was for me, yes I think this should help.”

Cody chuckled, oblivious to the whispers of his brothers around them, “Glad to hear it sir.”

—

Cody cursed, taking another turn at top speed. He skidded around the corner, the sounds of combat growing closer. Ventress had found them and set a trap, luring Kenobi and Ghost onto her ship where she had the advantage. Of course Kenobi had sent Cody and the others to check for hostages or hostiles and he’d charged in, his saber blazing against the red light and black shadows of the ship. His cocky grin had been a bit slanted, the way it was whenever they went up against this particular acolyte, lit up in that familiar deep blue light. 

Kenobi’s call for backup had come just as they cleared out the last of the droids on board, sending Cody sprinting to his last known location. Kenobi rarely called for backup, much preferring to put himself in the line of fire instead of his men. A bad feeling churned in Cody’s gut. 

It only intensified as he spotted a small object in the center of the hall. Kenobi’s lightsaber rested innocently on the ground, making Cody push a little harder. He didn’t break his momentum as he sprinted forward, scooping the weapon up. He held it in his hand as he activated his comm. 

“Kenobi, come in. This is Commander Cody, I repeat General Kenobi come in.”

“Kenobi here,” Cody winced at the breathless voice over his comm, “How’s that backup looking?”

“I’m on my way sir, once I’ve found you the troops will track my position and move in behind. I’ve got your saber with me.”

“Excellent,” Kenobi said, the end turning into a shout as the sound of an opposing lightsaber came dangerously close to his audio input, “I’m in sector three hall fourteen.”

Cody let out a small breath of relief, “I’m one down sir. Hold on just a little longer. Cody out.”

It took him thirty seconds too long to find Kenobi. He turned the last corner to find Ventress standing over him, Kenobi flat on his back on the ground and her saber poised to strike. 

Cody grabbed for his pistol with his free hand, firing off a shot that was quickly deflected. He’d succeeded in capturing her attention though, her snarl now focused on him as he charged toward the pair. 

“Cody!” Kenobi yelled, “My saber!”

Cody tossed it, not sure what he was expecting, and watched in fascination as it shot toward Kenobi’s hand as though it was a magnet. In less then a second the two were fighting again, Kenobi having sprung up and blocked Ventress’ path to Cody. Cody called in backup, alerting the squad to their position, and fired over Kenobi’s shoulder when he had the chance. 

They fought like that, ducking around each other like they’d known one another for years, for what seemed like forever. Every time Kenobi closed in, Cody moved to the side and took a shot, creating an opening for him. They were fluid, aware of each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and fought as a unit. 

It was the most fun Cody’s had on a battlefield in a while. 

Even Kenobi laughed as he ducked under Ventress’ swipe, calling over his shoulder, “We should do this more often!”

Cody emptied a pistol clip as Ventress attempted to take advantage of Kenobi’s brief distraction, yelling back, “Maybe without the murderous Sith next time.”

“I don’t know,” Kenobi teased, “It’s more fun with an audience.”

“Would you two get a room?” Ventress barked, “You’re making me nauseous.”

“My apologies darling,” Kenobi focused his attention back on her, “Were we not giving you enough attention?”

Ventress let out a wordless yell, apparently deciding she’d had her fun with them. She pushed her hands forward, Kenobi easily blocking the invisible wall of force with one of his own to buffet it, but Cody went crashing backwards. He slammed his head on the wall, unable to catch himself in time to not crumple to the ground. 

Cody groaned, automatically going up to prod the soft spot before realizing where he was and that he was wearing a full armor set. He shook his head, standing with only a slight wobble. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Kenobi attacking. 

Kenobi didn’t like to attack his opponents often. He preferred a more defensive style, instead using his enemies' mistakes against them in an effort to gain the upper hand. It was a style of fighting that was hard to pin down because it was so adaptable so Kenobi rarely diverted tactics. 

Cody frowned as took in Kenobi’s more aggressive stance, his back still toward the commander. It looked like he was really pressing Ventress now, backing her up to the opposite end of the corridor. 

Cody pulled out his rifle, breathing in deep as he peered down the sights. If he could time it just right then…

Kenobi did a complicated move that Cody didn’t quite follow, but it gave him the opening he needed to take the shot. 

Ventress, too busy blocking Kenobi’s sudden onset of aggression, wasn’t able to stop the bolt from connecting. She cried out in pain, dropping one of her sabers, and clutched at her shoulder. 

Feet thundered around the corner, signaling the arrival of their backup. In a matter of seconds she’d be outnumbered. 

Which was, of course, when she decided to make her convenient escape. Kenobi was just barely too slow to grab after her as she tore open one of the air vents and leapt upward and into it. Her little chuckle was taunting as it echoed around the hallway, but Cody could honestly care less. 

Longshot was the first to show, quickly followed by Boil and Wooley. Cody nodded at his men as they appeared one by one, now more focused on catching his breath. He didn’t even notice Kenobi’s approach until the man was practically on top of him. 

“Are you alright?”

Cody nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized Kenobi was standing next to him, making a few troopers laugh quietly, “Yes sir, not a scratch on me. And yourself?”

Kenobi frowned, “Are you sure? You hit the wall quite hard.”

Cody waved him off, “I’m fine, just got stunned in the moment.”

Kenobi relaxed a bit, allowing Cody’s men to secure the scene. He moved toward one of the side doors that opened up into what looked like the ship’s archives. 

“What’s this?” Cody asked as he entered behind him.

“The purpose of our mission,” Kenobi answered calmly, already inserting a drive into the main hub, “That being said, if Ventress knew it was a trap the data may be gone already.”

“What was the data?” Cody focused his attention on the screen in front of them, frowning as whatever algorithm Kenobi was using opened and closed windows too fast for him to read. 

“The Separatists are once again attempting to ally themselves with the Hutts. We are here to figure out what their offer is and what they want in return.” Kenobi’s forehead wrinkled right between his eyebrows. Cody got the sudden ridiculous urge to smooth it out. 

“Ah,” he said instead of embarrassing himself. Cody straightened, reminding himself he was on duty. He was always on duty around Kenobi. “And the Republic is planning a counter offer?”

“Force I hope not,” Kenobi looked at him with alarm and concern, “The Hutts are not the sort of folk we should want to ally with.”

Cody pursed his lips. He knew what the Hutts did and how they made their money. It was pure evil. But leaving a contract out in the open with an increasingly large chance the Seppies would give chase was almost worse. Who knew what Dooku would do with that power? 

When Cody glanced at Kenobi the man was frowning at him. 

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Kenobi said with a strange note in his voice, “I take it you don’t approve of our inaction?”

Cody blinked once. Twice. And then remembered the Jedi was pseudo-mind readers and wanted to slap himself. 

“Not at all sir,” Cody answered with a confidence he didn’t feel, “You are correct, as per usual.”

Kenobi didn’t seem to buy his assurances. He turned back to the monitor, quieting his voice a bit as he said, “We cannot stoop to their level. You understand that, yes?”

Cody bristled briefly before getting himself back under control, “Of course General.”

Kenobi shot a look over his shoulder like he knew Cody was holding back. Oh well. They would just have to disagree on some things. 

“Did you find it?” Cody asked impatiently, wanting to get out now that there was a weird tension in the room. 

“Not yet,” Kenobi hummed, “But it looks like Ventress has scrubbed most of this. I doubt we’ll find what we need aboard this ship.”

“Right,” Cody sighed, “And I assume no one’s pinned Ventress down yet?”

Kenobi shook his head, “She’s probably in an escape pod by now. I’ll have Republic forces do a sweep of the area but knowing her -”

“She’s gone,” Cody took off his helmet. He rubbed his temples with one hand as he mulled over potential escape routes she could’ve picked, what planet may be her next stop, and how best to triangulate the landing of her pod. 

Kenobi had a fond little smile on his face when Cody looked back up. 

“What?” Cody asked defensively, thinking maybe he’d been talking out loud or something else embarrassing.

“Nothing,” Kenobi replied, unplugging his device and pocketing it. “Come along. We’ve got our work cut out for us.”

—

Obi-Wan had gotten him drunk. The bastard. 

It wasn’t that Cody was against being drunk. In fact, his liver complained every time they landed on Coruscant and Cody had an actual fucking break for once in his sith-damned life. He’d just never been drunk with a Jedi. 

It was pretty fun. 

They’d gone from talking about the odds of the next clone bill passing through the Senate to Cody laying flat on Obi-Wan’s bed and watching the Jedi make things fly around the room. Obi-wan was laughing as things whizzed around him in a flurry, like the eye of a strange and somewhat barren hurricane. 

Obi-Wan had a ruddy flush to his cheeks at this point in the night. They’d been together for a few hours, drinking for a good majority of that. Cody had tried to call him Kenobi once and gotten a very hurt look. He decided he could call him Obi-Wan just for tonight after that. 

“You can do better than that,” Cody goaded, “Lift something actually heavy.”

Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow at him and the next thing Cody knew he was flying. He yelped, scrabbling to grab at the bed before he was lifted just a bit too high for that. Changing tactics he tried to turn himself to yell at Obi-Wan but only succeeded in pinwheeling his arms in the air like an idiot. 

“I do believe I win this round,” Obi-Wan chirped gleefully before dropping Cody and everything else he was lifting. Cody grunted as he fell into the mattress, feeling something else hit his back and roll off the side. His hand shot out to catch it before it hit the ground. 

Cody sighed as he sat up and rubbed one eye, blinking stupidly down at Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. Of course the man would make this death laser sword weapon fly around the room like it was no big deal. 

He was surprised when Obi-Wan flopped down on the bed with him, taking up the space vacated by Cody now that he was sitting. 

“Tire you out?” Cody asked teasingly.

“Not in the slightest,” Obi-Wan turned that lazy smile on him, making Cody’s stomach do weird things again, “You just looked very uncomfortable up there.”

Cody laughed, for once not fighting him or whipping up some smart ass comment. He liked this. Hanging out outside of military needs. It was fun. 

“So,” Obi-Wan drawled, “Tell me about yourself. I feel like I know very little compared to what you know about me.”

Cody snorted, “There isn’t much to tell. Raised on Kamino for ten years and then sent here to work for you. That’s about it.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “Come now, there must be more. Who are you close to, what foods do you like, what’s your favorite show? Little things like that.”

“Well,” Cody shifted, unsure of the goal of this conversation, “I haven’t tried many new foods. I’d say juice is pretty good. I’m not used to having something so sweet. I don’t have a favorite show but sometimes I’ll join the men in the rec room and there will be something in the background. And I’m close to a lot of vode. Comes with the job.”

“I do like juice,” Obi-Wan said, the drink clearly getting to him, “Anakin never had any when he was growing up so I always kept some for him in our room. He drank nothing but ujj juice for a whole year, I swear.”

Cody laughed, “Apple juice. That’s my favorite.”

“Good choice,” Obi-Wan told him, “It’s one of the oldest juices in the galaxy. People have been farming and cultivating apples for as long as civilization has existed.”

Of course he knew juice history. Why wouldn’t he know juice history?

“You’re a nerd,” Cody said against his better judgment, poking Obi-Wan in the shoulder. 

Obi-Wan let loose a faux offended gasp, “How dare you? I’m a Jedi Master, I’ll have you know.”

“A nerdy Jedi Master,” Cody reminded him.

“Yes, yes,” Obi-Wan waved a hand in the air, “Whatever you say dearest.”

Cody scoffed, desperately trying to ignore his blush again. Stupid fucking Fett genes. 

“Where is - Cody, why do you have my saber?” Obi-Wan looked at him with genuine confusion.

Cody brought it to his chest, “You were flinging it around the room like an idiot. Did no one teach you all basic weapon safety?”

Obi-Wan held a hand out for Cody to give back his saber as he said, “It’s not going to turn on all of a sudden, it has to be activated.”

Cody, now sporting a sly grin of his own, did not return the saber, “Oh so no lightsaber accident has ever occurred during training?”

Obi-Wan sputtered, “Well - yes but - that’s not exactly - oh, would you just give me that back?”

Cody shook his head, laughing, “Not until you can be trusted not to throw it into a wall.”

Obi-Wan looked at him in shock, “It’s my lightsaber.”

Maybe Cody had a little too much to drink because he responded with, “Then why does it keep coming back to me?”

Obi-Wan sputtered, having no quick comeback to that, and flung a hand out. Cody was just barely fast enough to catch the lightsaber before it flew out of his hand, tightening his grip just as Obi-Wan pulled. 

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, a smile beginning to dance on his lips, “So it’s like that then?”

Cody nodded, not sure what they were getting into but knowing that syrupy sweet feeling was back and quickly growing. He laughed as Obi-Wan pulled the lightsaber again, the weapon still not leaving Cody’s hand. Obi-Wan made a noise of complaint before he really tugged. 

Cody felt himself get bodily pulled forward, just like the day in requisitions, his hand leading his path. He laughed as he pulled against it, well aware there was no way he was winning this battle of wills. Obi-Wan shared in his giddiness, giving Cody just enough of a back and forth to make it seem like a real fight. Cody didn’t even care that Obi-Wan was letting him have it. 

The problem came when Obi-Wan tugged a little too hard. Cody, off balance and dizzy from the drink, couldn’t stop it when he fell forward if he wanted to hold on to the lightsaber at the same time. In his state he allowed it, entirely forgetting who the lightsaber was being pulled toward. 

Cody looked down, his cheeks certainly flushed now, as Obi-Wan sat wide eyed beneath him. The lightsaber rested innocently to the side of them, now forgotten as they stared at each other. 

Cody had a knee in Obi-Wan’s lap, effectively straddling the man. Obi-Wan, who had been leaning back on his hands, was forced to look up at Cody, the space between them very small. 

Neither moved for a precious few moments. 

Cody had never appreciated how blue Obi-Wan’s eyes were. They had a depth to them, yes, but also a lightness. A sparkle that he’d never bothered with before now. 

His gaze lowered automatically to his lips. He was very aware of how easy it would be. How Obi-Wan had gone still but not tense under him. How they could always blame the drink come morning. 

It was that thought that had Cody ripping himself away like he’d been burned. He stumbled, getting off the bed and grabbing for his helmet. 

“Cody -”

“My apologies General,” Cody defaulted, hearing A-17’s voice in his ears.

Anytime you fuck up, grovel until they can do nothing but pity you. It’s harder to punish the guilty than the arrogant.

“It’s been a long day,” Cody shoved his helmet back on, “And this has been lovely.” He moved toward the door, not putting his back to his general for a second, “but I really must be going now. Thank you for the drinks and the conversation, I’ll -”

“Cody,” Obi-Wan called to him again. Cody felt himself go a little weak. He was still in the exact position Cody left him, wide eyed and open on the bed. Cody could just walk right up and -

“Again, my lack of decorum cannot be excused,” Cody apologized again, “And I won’t let it happen again in the future. Goodnight General.”

Cody all but sprinted out the door, going straight to his room and locking himself inside it. He was an idiot. A giant, massive, humongous idiot. He’d ignored the little feelings in his gut because - because it was against the rules. It would go away because it was against the rules and Cody was excellent at following rules. Rules had gotten him to where he was now. Rules defined him, gave him clear structures to follow and guardrails to hold on to when things felt out of control. He could always default to the rules. 

So why couldn’t he now? 

—

Cody got the goddamn lightsaber clip.

Rather, Obi-Wa - Kenobi got him the lightsaber clip. 

The first few days after that night were awkward to say the least. He knew everyone around them noticed it too. The tension was thick between them, Cody avoiding any interaction outside of the professional and Kenobi getting more and more pushy each time they were in the room together. 

It culminated in Kenobi knocking on his door very loudly, dumping the lightsaber clip into Cody’s confused hands, and walking away without another word. The clip rested on his desk for a few days until he finally grew the balls to put it on his belt. He didn’t know why it was so difficult to make himself do that, it just felt…it felt like he was owning something that wasn’t his. 

The first day he’d worn the clip was the first day Kenobi smiled at him since Cody ran away that night. Cody had given him a nod in return and just like that they were back to normal. He wished he knew how Obi-Wan did it. 

They’d been invited to some gala celebrating the clones. Or raising money to make more. Or doing something else Cody probably would’ve hated so he tuned it out. Lucky for him they actually wanted clones in full armor this time. Something about showing them off to potential investors. Obi-Wan and a few other generals had made a lot of noise about that, but ultimately it was up to the senators throwing it. As far as he was aware this one was done by the Banking Clan and Kaminoans. 

Cody shifted uncomfortably from where he’d been directed to stand. Turns out they weren’t kidding about wanting clone troopers on display. He and Rex had been guided to their ‘seats’ for the night, aka spots for them to stand in and be pestered with questions. Kenobi and Skywalker both decided that was outrageous and had taken to standing next to them and fielding some of the stupider ones thrown their way. Cody was fairly sure Windu was off yelling at the senators to get the commanders proper seats.

Cody didn’t really care to be honest. He’d gone to plenty of military expos on Coruscant, just because they’d slapped a different label on this one didn’t mean it wouldn’t be the same. They’d probably even have them do a combat demonstration later, meaning Cody could fire his blaster at something. That always cheered him up. 

“I’m bored,” Rex complained over internal comms, “Skywalker keeps answering all my questions.”

“Yeah,” Cody agreed, “Less fun to stand here and answer questions when they won’t even let us answer questions.”

Kenobi had taken to standing in front of Cody, only allowing select people through to talk to him. It was a nice gesture but then Cody only had how uncomfortable he was to focus on. 

“What's the clip for?”

Cody looked down in confusion before remembering, “Kenobi keeps losing his lightsaber and I keep picking it up. Figured at least this way I’ll have a free hand.”

Rex snorted, “Hypocrite. Skywalker has to replace his at least once a month and Kenobi always fusses at him for it.”

“Kenobi doesn’t break his,” Cody rolled his eyes, having his own opinions about Skywalker, “Just loses it.”

“If I have to hear Kenobi tell him his weapon is his life one more time I’m going to lose it,” Rex griped, “I do not envy Skywalker.”

“His weapon is his life?” Cody questioned.

“Yeah,” Rex heaved a sigh, “Kenobi always talks about how a lightsaber is a symbol of your personhood in the Order and how it’s a symbol of the Jedi. Without it they’re just really cool diplomats.”

“Oh,” Cody said faintly, trying to ignore the implications of that, “Interesting.”

“Yeah,” Rex did not seem to catch on to Cody’s crisis, “If you’re a Jedi.”

Luckily a senator slipped past Skywalker’s defense and started asking Rex all kinds of questions. Cody was glad for the distraction, if only to let himself think over that. He was briefly distracted by Kenobi turning back to him.

“Well,” Kenobi said with an air of discontent, “I sincerely apologize to you to for the way this night has gone.”

Cody laughed softly before turning on his external vocorders, “It’s quite alright General. We’re not unused to military displays after all.”

Kenobi huffed, Cody’s words not doing anything to reassure him, “Well in the future I will see to it that you and your brothers are sat alongside us, not standing against the wall waiting to be prodded.”

Cody’s heart fluttered a little bit. He loved that Kenobi genuinely wanted better for them. 

Kenobi sighed, lifting a hand to run it through his hair before remembering where he was and what he was doing, “I’ll see if I can make an excuse for you to leave. It’s no good to have you lot standing around if Senator Burtoni can’t even say hello herself.”

Cody cracked a smile at that, thinking back to his few, very limited, interactions with the Kaminoan senator. She’d been a real dick every time. 

“Good luck sir,” Cody rumbled, “You know where to find me.”

Kenobi gave him a flat look before disappearing into the crowd. Cody shifted, feeling more eyes on him now that his assigned Jedi had left him to the wolves. 

He spent the next half hour answering probing questions from the Republic’s top socialites and political players. He enjoyed his quick conversation with Senator Organa, discussing how his men were doing on the front and yes, an order for a ration increase would go a long way aboard the Negotiator, thank you very much sir. Other than that he watched painfully obvious flirting between Skywalker and Senator Amidala and shared a miserable look with Rex. All in all it was shaping up to be a fairly boring night. 

Which, of course, was thwarted as soon as Cody thought it. 

The lights went out in the atrium, leading to shouts and gasps from senators. Burtoni was quick to grab a microphone and promise technical difficulties but it didn’t stop the clones from flicking on their headlamps and Jedi from drawing their sabers. 

The discovery that the doors were locked only led to more panic. Burtoni disappeared with one of her aids to fix the problem and the rest of the them went about the proper security protocols. High profile senators were evacuated by the Coruscant Guard using serving droid passageways while Cody and Rex helped corral the rest. At one point Kenobi handed his saber off to them after it became evident that the panic would not abate unless a Jedi came with them. Kenobi had simply rolled his eyes and passed his lightsaber to Cody before announcing the clones were very capable of taking care of everyone themselves. 

Cody gave him an inquisitive look, “Are you sure you don’t want this sir? What if you need to fight?”

Kenobi stroked his beard, his expression relaxed, “Myself and other Jedi don’t feel any malicious signatures near this area. My guess is this is a thief’s work, not an assassin’s.”

Cody relaxed a bit, “So we’re safe then?”

“Most likely,” Kenobi sighed and tucked his hands into his ceremonial robes, “And you won’t be far if I do need that back. At the very least it’ll help keep them calm.”

Cody nodded, keeping the weapon outstretched and unsheathed in front of him. Kenobi looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“What?”

“It’s not a bomb,” he said amusedly, “You can hold it like a normal weapon.”

Cody scoffed, “I’ve seen you cut through durasteel with this thing, “I’m not taking chances.”

“Very well,” Kenobi shook his head, his eyes shining with mirth, “Have it your way.”

Cody rejoined the others, receiving a strange look from Rex that he chose not to address. Instead he led them into the kitchen. Rex went around handing out knives and various utensils that could be used as weapons. They didn’t stand a chance if someone with blasters came in, but it helped ease the minds of the guests so Cody had no qualms with it. 

“So,” Rex muttered when he rejoined Cody by the doors, “He gave you his lightsaber.”

Cody shrugged, “The guests are calmer now at least.”

“Mhm. And how often does he do that exactly?”

Cody side-eyed Rex, the effect lost with his helmet on, and said, “I don’t know.”

“You know, I haven’t seen you with that belt clip before. What exactly is that for?”

Cody wanted to shrink into his armor, “...a lightsaber.”

“Yeah,” Rex laughed, “That’s what I thought.”

“Shut up,” Cody snapped, his cheeks positively on fire, “I see the way you look at Skywalker.”

Rex sputtered, “That - I do not - if you think even for one sec - he’s married!”

Cody’s head snapped over to him, “What?”

Rex went very very still, “I didn’t say that.”

“No, I’m not sure I heard properly,” Cody turned his full body to face Rex, “What did you say he was?”

“Nothing,” Rex faced the door stiffly, “I didn’t say anything. You didn’t hear anything. We’re doing our jobs normally like normal soldiers.”

“Rex.”

“Cody.”

“Are Skywalker and Amidala married?”

“Are you wearing a lightsaber clip on your belt?”

“I already admitted that, it’s your turn now.”

“...Yes. They’re married.” 

Cody stared in shock for a moment before turning back to face the door as well, “Well.”

“Well?”

“Well.” Cody struggled to come up with any reaction to that statement that wasn’t ‘what the fuck Jedi can get married and have lives and fall in love and if Skywalker can do it then -’

He wasn’t going to let himself finish that train of thought. 

Rex, of course, read it on him anyway, “Oh Kote, you don’t really think -”

“Shut up,” Cody said quickly, “Don’t want to talk about it.”

Rex sighed, “Just be careful. I get the feeling Skywalker and Amidala have plenty of their own issues.”

Cody didn’t respond. The saber in his hand suddenly felt ten times heavier. He couldn’t help but remember Kenobi’s face that night, open and earnest as Cody fell on top of him. 

He needed to shut this thing down. He needed to take the stupid clip off his belt. He needed to hand the lightsaber back and never pick it up again. 

The gentle blue glow of Kenobi’s kyber crystal was never meant for him and never would be.