#idr who said this before but

[jaylaxies]

reading fanfics isn’t enough i need to fuck the man

[bigturtl]

bandiboo doodle pile

[izzyspussy]

was anyone gonna tell me jojo siwa is all grown up and hot as hell now or was i just supposed to find that out watching the karma music video because bob did the makeup look from it?

[oars]

i think im at like one of thos erock bottom points in my life but bc im so used to being here its not even that bad anymore

[bukuoshin]

Okay, it's. It's probably safe to say I'm autistic, lol

[wolfjackle-creates]

Hi!! I haven't been on Tumblr for a while but I used to read a fic you made out of a prompt (?) Someone else made about Danny who freaked out when he realized the Waynes are the Bats and accidentally shot Bruce(?) And if I'm not mistaken you made a part 2 of it (idr remember if it was a wip or finished) but do you have a masterlist so I can re-read it :D? So sorry if I sound weird (´⌒｀;)

It is absolutely never weird to ask an author about their works!!!! Thanks so much for sending this in.

It's been ages since I've worked on this one, but it's definitely on my short list to get back to. Especially since I'm pretty close to having it finished?

Here's chapter 1 on AO3. And the Subscription Post.

Chapter 2 is limited to Tumblr right now, only two parts currently. Part 1 can be found here.

Currently it's called Want to Hold on and Feel I Belong. However, when I do start updating on AO3 again, I plan to change the name. (I'm just waiting so people who have subscribed are more likely to remember what they're getting an email about.) Mostly I refer to it as my Bad Reveal AU. Though I get that's not a great working name as that's usually reserved for the Fenton parents reacting badly rather than Danny reacting badly.

Also, as a thanks for reminding me that it's been a while since I've posted anything about this fic (or, well, in general), have the next bit!

Here's a random 1.5k.

Previous

-----

Having a potential lead so close meant the hours until J’onn’s arrival were spent in prep mode.

Every uniform had to be checked for the slightest damage and upgrades done where possible. Supplies and go-bags were organized so they could leave the moment they had a lead. Fuel levels in every vehicle were checked and topped off where necessary.

And finally, the zeta tube activated and J’onn stepped out. “Good day to all of you. I heard my assistance was needed?”

Bruce went to greet him. “J’onn. Danny’s room is upstairs. Did Clark explain the situation?”

“Yes. He said that your newest ward has density shifting powers and left things behind in his walls and floor before running away a few days ago.”

Bruce nodded sharply. “Follow me. Clark will show you where the items are hidden so you can retrieve them.”

Dick happily zipped up what felt like the hundredth bag he’d had to pack and joined them. “Hey, J’onn. Welcome. How have you been?”

“Greetings, Dick. It has been a long time since our last meeting. I have been well. I want to wish you luck in finding your brother swiftly and easily.”

Dick nodded his thanks. “Same. We’re really hoping he left behind something to help because we haven’t had much luck so far.” Dick pulled out his phone and notified the family of J’onn’s arrival and requested they meet in Danny’s room.

On the way, Bruce and Dick filled J’onn in on the situation. At the implication of government experimentation, he face went hard and he vowed he would help them however he could.

Clark, Jason, and Alfred were already there when the group arrived and the rest weren’t far behind. With everyone present, the room felt crowded.

“Where should I start?” J’onn asked Clark.

“Behind the NASA poster. I think that’s where he keeps the weapons. One of them is an object that looks like it might be the same as, or at least similar to, the weapon that shot Bruce.”

Under Clark’s direction, J’onn removed not just two more energy guns, but also a glowing-green net, a boomerang, a tube of lipstick, what looked like a weird, high-tech thermos, and a wooden baseball bat with a sticker that said “Fenton” on it.

Dick couldn’t help but whistle at the pile. “Damn, he was packing all this?”

“Apparently,” said Damian. But Dick could tell his youngest brother was impressed and mentally reassessing his beliefs of Danny. “Perhaps he is not as helpless as I previously believed.”

“Why’s he got lipstick?” asked Steph as she picked up the tube.

“Don’t!” ordered Bruce even as she opened it and released a laser beam that left a small scorch mark on the ceiling.

She stared in shock before laughing. “Oh, damn! When he comes back, I’m so asking if he could get me one of these. That’s so cool!”

“Can I see that?” asked Barbara.

“Wait until we’re in the cave,” said Bruce with a sigh. Both women grinned at him.

Dick reached down and grabbed the net. Despite the color, it seemed normal enough, maybe a little smoother than most rope he’d handled. He pulled out a pocket knife and was able to slice through one of the ropes easily enough. Jason came over to look at it with him.

“Anything weird about it?” he asked as he reached out to touch it. “Huh, that’s odd.”

“What’s odd about it? Seems pretty normal to me.”

“It just… It feels weird. It almost hurts to touch.” When Dick looked at him sharply, Jason quickly added, “It doesn’t hurt, but it feels like it should. If that makes sense.”

“Feels normal to me.” Dick showed him the break he’d made.

Jason shrugged. “Dunno, then. I just get a weird feeling from it.”

Damian picked up the energy gun, Tim the thermos, and Duke the boomerang when Alfred cleared his throat.

“Before we get distracted, might I remind you that there is more to find? We can bring everything down to the cave to examine them with no more damage to Master Danny’s room.”

Everyone sheepishly put down the things they were holding. Dick bit back a laugh when he noticed Clark push the baseball bat away from himself with his foot.

“So, J’onn,” Clark said. “I think the next area of interest is behind this poster.” He gestured at a poster of the horsehead nebula. Dick had helped Danny find it and hang it up and the kid had talked about nebulae for over an hour as they did. The memory caused his eyes to burn.

From this stash, J’onn pulled some notebooks and two external hard drives, which Barbara took. Dick and Bruce both grabbed a notebook. Dick opened his to the first page.

Journaling is such a stupid idea. I don’t have any time for it but Jazz says I need to get my feelings out. Pointless. So what if I can’t sleep and Skulker attacked me again today during English getting me another detention. Its not my fault! Shit, haven’t done that essay for Lancer. If I miss any more assignments he’s gonna fail me for real.

Everyone knew Danny had been failing before he’d been brought to them, but he’d refused to discuss why. Once he was in school in Gotham, he’d gotten straight A’s. Even if he did ask for the occasional help in English from Jason.

But this raised so many questions. Who was Skulker and why were they attacking Dick’s little brother during English class. He flipped through the pages. Interspersed between journal entries were drawings of schematics. Dick thought he recognized some of the designs as the weapons they’d uncovered.

His eyes caught on an entry that started with a string of curses.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. My parents saw Dani today. In ghost form. They actually managed to hit her. Only her second visit and I couldn’t keep her safe. Some big brother dad cousin whatever I am. I did get her to the Far Frozen. Frostbite fixed her up. Taught me what to do if it happens again, too. And gave me the medicines and supplies to do it. I’m so glad I have friends in the Zone now. It makes it so much easier. I can’t get the image of Dani’s blood staining my hands out of my mind. Going to Tuck’s tonight. I can’t be around my parents right now.

Stomach dropping, he flipped a few more pages until he found one with a photo. It was a grinning Danny with white hair and wearing a jumpsuit standing on a curved balcony. Behind him, spire buildings rose into the air, many rounded in a way not often found on Earth.

Clockwork took me to Mars today! Holy shit it is so cool. Just, everything. We went back to when they were thriving and I had to stop an invasion. But that’s not important. Everyone here can go intangible despite being alive. Some of their buildings don’t even have doors because they’d be pointless! And the plants and animals are all so different, too. Clockwork helped me find some books on Martian history and biology and evolution. He’s also gonna show me where the Martians exist in the Zone so I can learn their language. Maybe one day I can go to Krypton or Tamaran as well?

Dick stared back at the picture. It did have that distinctive feel of wrong that extraterrestrial landscapes always had. He swallowed. “Uh, J’onn?”

“Yes, Dick?”

“Um, Danny. This is his journal. He said he went to Mars. Before… Just, before. He’s got a picture. Is this real?” He handed the photo to J’onn who hesitated a moment before taking it.

J’onn froze as he stared at the simple image. “I… Yes. This is my home. How…?”

Dick shrugged and wished he had an answer for the last of the Martians. “Someone called Clockwork brought him there apparently. To stop some sort of invasion? He didn’t discuss that much. He was too interested in the planet and people to talk about what he did. He was hoping to visit Krypton and Tamaran, too. Also said something about Martians existing somewhere he called the Zone. He wanted to meet them to learn the language.”

The look on J’onn’s face at the mention of other Martians existing somewhere was heartbreaking. Maybe Dick shouldn’t have said anything? When Danny came home, would he maybe want to talk to J’onn about Mars?

With clear reluctance, J’onn handed the picture back. “This is your brother in the photo?”

“Yeah. I mean, Danny usually has black hair and blue eyes, but that’s him. Do you recognize him?”

J’onn nodded. “Of course. He is the Omen. His coming foretells death and destruction which he will then try to avert. I know what invasion he is speaking of, it is, was, taught in our history books. He saved all of Mars that day. We thought him a god.”

Dick’s mouth fell open. His little brother? A god?

-----

Did you enjoy your little surprise update tonight? Let me know what you think!

[katyspersonal]

For the purpose to the ask meme because idr if I sent one already, but *clears throat*

Messmer

( @izunias-meme-hole )

Yeah..... you suuuure didn't ask anything else... -_-

(Ask from this ( x ) meme)

Favorite thing about them:

I am a little self-conscious when I use character's relation or relationship with another character as a favourite thing, but.. I just can't help it: the complexity and depth of his relationship with Marika made me really appreciate the character! It was the start that got me peer deeper into him, and I talk about it a lot!

He crashed / is responsible for crashing all her statues as a Goddess across the Shadow Realm, but kept one untouched, of her as a Mother, in his chamber. He asks her forgiveness before removing the seal, but he curses her upon death. He knew she was hurting and decided to "solve" her problem by offering to take upon Crusade for her, but he lives in hatred of abandoned child. He allows Miquella to go for it with trying to make a better world than she created, but he believes he knows what is better for her Order than she so he insists on still obliterating her "awaited Lord" (which is what he believes Tarnished is). She tried to heal him, she also fears all manners of fire and he could not be an exception. He hated his fire, he also was wishing to be feared by others as her weapon. She loved him, but Godwyn was manifestation of the world she always dreamed about - perfect, golden, uncursed...

There are things about them visible in the lore, and things that are fair to assume. But, in either case, this is insane how interesting it is! That being said.... no matter who I describe Messmer with, I go on the rant about conflicting feelings. Rellana and Queelign are similar. So, I suppose, I love this trait about him? He is not plain and not so easy to understand, maybe not even he understands himself fully!

Least favorite thing about them:

Honestly, while diving into the way he wages genocide against everyone spurn of her grace, including what he believes is a Lord she is waiting for, and seeing how he is the type to incinerate all traces of someone's culture and history since preserving specimen and ruins was the wish of his Knights.. he genuinely scared me. So did the fuckin Furance Golems. I have to remind myself that he is not even absolute about it (for example, Gaius, an Albinauric, is the leader of all his military forces), as well as how this mindset comes form Messmer himself being graceless. He is just a really convincing fascist. Granted, I also love this, because writing a villain who genuinely gives you sense not of lust but of dread is a very high skill!

Favorite line:

"O lightless creature... Embrace thine oblivion, as shall I." God, that sounded really intimate. He wants to take us down with him...

brOTP:

I suppose Gaius must be his best friend, all things considered! @val-of-the-north said if Moonrithyll is Rellana's braidsmaid, then Gaius would probably be the best man, too, and of course ride into the room on his boar! XD Honestly, very valid friendship, although I feel as though it developed a sad turn after there was no Radahn anymore. Without being united by caring about his reckless ass a lot, what left between them was being bound with feeling like abominations in Marika's perfect world. A lot of their conversations are bittersweet and nostalgic, but it is not like they're in the right conditions to develop happier topics and healthier things to bind over.

I can't not mention tho: his SNAKES!!! Absolutely the best creatures! They can feel his emotions like their own, without particularly becoming just part of his body. However, they can "betray" him a little, like hiss at someone irritating Messmer if Messmer himself tries to keep composure, or wrap someone close into embrace towards him if Messmer feels too shy to do so. They love him unconditionally, not believing in "healing" or "uncursing" him but living as natural counter-balance power to Base Serpent! Destruction is also part of life, it should just be kept in check, but it also can't be avoided forever! I jokingly call them Phobos and Deimos all the time XD Not their legit names ofc!

OTP:

Messmer x Rellana is canon, and a ship that I like, of course! I talked about my vision of the ship in this ( x ) post more! Granted, this post is from before I learned the 'bridesmaid' bit, but the VIBE still holds up! XD

To summarise, Rellana saw some higher meaning of returning to how things should be, believing that Fire and Sky must be together, be it stars or be it moon! She also knew that "not even brilliance of the moon could heal him", so... she knew of his serpentine nature, no less than Fire Knights, but stood by him unlike Andreas and Huv! Messmer values this a lot. They are contrasting! I see Rellana as energetic, a bit of 'smug but loveable asshole', that can also be a bit vulgar but becomes red like Messmer's cape if approached sentimentally and romantically! He is, of course, gloomy and full of self-loathing that can infect anyone else and requires a lot of patience to be close with, awkward with anything sexual but loving romantic gestures and not stingy with words of affection for those who deserve them!

I really like him and Queelign too, which I already wrote about here: ( x )! A lot of conflicting feelings on Messmer's side, as Queelign feels like reflection of the version of Messmer that he suppressed and killed in himself, but also the one he wishes he could live. He cherishes him a lot and wants to guard his "naivety" from anyone, even from himself, whereas for Queelign Messmer is like, one person he cares about beyond just his loyalty to Marika.

nOTP:

Not fully a nOTP, but something hard to work with! Messmer x Tarnished character would need loops for me to accept. Messmer is not someone who can be "fixed"; even if he has some sort of change of heart, he crossed events horizon with his war crimes and "ideology". So, it would need to be "I can join him" rather than "I can fix him"! The Tarnished character also must be someone not very morally sound themselves, to at least approach his level and lift up the weight of the fact that Messmer considers graceless people unworthy of existing! Something about the Tarnished that would made them unable to call Messmer out lest they are a huge hypocrite! Otherwise I'll feel like this:

Random headcanon:

I might revisit it later! But I think despite being 'lightless', Messmer is still a legit Demigod and as a child of Marika, has a Rune within Elden Ring associated with him! Basically, he could have claimed his shard, had he been still in the Lands Between!

It hit me that if both Godrick's and Morgott's runes are 'Anchor Runes', that could mean they then both use the central ring for their Runes, leaving the fourth, upper ring 'vacant'! Elden Ring already had the Rune that is now Marika's before Marika was even born, so it is possible that other stuff stored in Elden Ring could get "assigned" as well!

This is to say, I had a random headcanon that one of Messmer's Knights was able to escape with the purpose of finding a shard that was resigned to him by herself, to bring to him! She never told anyone, but believed that if Messmer had a shard, he'd be allowed to return in the Lands Between and to Marika, considering how dire things have gotten! However, whereas she succeeded, she loved it so much that she didn't want to let go of it.. so she never returned, jealously guarding it. From Messmer's perspective it just looked like betrayal, since he never knew where did she go. Again, might erase the idea later, but Vyke and Bernahl each had two shards that we never got to see, so might have been one of them as well?

Unpopular opinion:

He is not just "another boring Marika's marionette", he is a grown man that can make his own choices. 😔 He knew of his mother's trauma and festering wish for revenge, yet his response was to deliver Crusade for her sake, not like, to try to help her to heal and move on or something. Their relationship maybe were not so healthy, but he was not obligated to do all this. He had a choice. 😔

Song I associate with them:

Favorite picture of them:

I've made this stupid fucking ass meme before the DLC dropped:

I am super mad at how it somehow aged both like milk AND like wine fhdhfhsfd But you may have the brain damage from it again XDDD

[bad268]

Truth or Hydrate (ElasticDroid X Streamer! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous 

Requested: Nope

Warnings:  Language (as always), alcohol, sexual jokes, chat calling reader a “pick me,” basically word for word of the video just in a different order.

Pronouns: None used (First person) but menstruating reader

W.C. 1916

Summary:  During the Truth or Hydrate stream, everyone gets a little too drunk, but it's all fun and games until someone's feelings get hurt.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Screen shot from a video idr which)

“What’s up gamers? How y’all doing today?” Droid started off as people began flooding into the stream. I was grabbing a couple of drinks from the fridge as the guys bantered back and forth before taking the spot on the ground between Droid and Grizzy. “Someone wanna explain bruh? It’s a lot.”

“Bitch, it’s your thing!” Grizzy laughed along with Puffer and Pezzy while rolled my eyes and cracked open a Mike’s. 

“Geez, we’re doing truth or drink,” Droid explained, going into deeper detail. Puffer, jokingly, started snoring, so Droid said, “Aye, quiet down in the back, yeah?”

“Chat says it's a slumber party,” I laughed, pointing out the one message I could see from my spot. 

“Guys, take your shoes off, stay awhile. Slumber party!” Pezzy joked, enthusiastically. “Are your feet stinky?”

“Mine aren’t, but I’d rather Droid keep his shoes on,” I pressed, pushing his feet away from me with a laugh as he tried to smell them. He put them toward Puffer to which he gagged before pushing Droid’s feet away. 

“I can smell them from here actually! Those actually smell,” Puffer complained. Droid tried to smell his feet again, and he made a face before putting his shoes on.

“You realized they stink?” I asked rhetorically, plugging my nose and leaning away.

“Don’t act like yours smell like roses,” He retorted, pushing his feet toward me.

“I showered today, so they smell like my soap, dumbass,” I cringed as I shoved his feet away. 

“Okay, what are we doing?” Pezzy asked.

“This is the dealio,” Droid started. “Truth or drink. If someone doesn’t want to answer a question, they have to take a shot.”

“Oh, this was meant to be hot sauce?” Grizzy asked, looking at the box.

“Yeah, wanna try it?” I asked, jokingly pulling out a mini Tabasco from my pocket and offering it to him.

“No,” Grizzy said skeptically.

“He’s a pussy, dude,” Pezzy stated.

“Y’all keep it at 89 fucking degrees in this house. You think I want hot sauce right now?” Grizzy emphasized.

“That’s all Pezzy, bruh,” Droid muttered.

“Bitch you were just freezing before the stream,” Grizzy pointed out, and Droid agreed before putting his hand on Grizzy’s arm. “WOAH!” Pezzy and Puffer grabbed his hand, feeling how cold it actually was, in shock. 

I held out my hand because I wanted to see as Pezzy asked, “Are you okay?”

Droid put his hand in mine as he responds with, “I am now.” I jokingly ripped my hand from his as chat exploded. 

“Okay, back on topic. Who are we asking the questions to?” I asked, taking another drink and leaning back to look up at Droid.

“It’s a group thing, so everybody in the room pretty much,” Droid responded, handing me the box to look it over. 

“Shit, we’re gonna need more alcohol,” Grizzy and I muttered.

“How many secrets y’all got, dog?” Droid asked in shock.

Puffer drew first, and his question was, “The most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done.”

“I shit my pants in a car ride home with my friends,” Grizzy said immediately. We all started talking over each other until Grizzy interrupted us, “I was like 8, bro!”

“I got one,” Puffer paused as Droid said that he knew it. “I fell in the San Antonio River.”

“OH! What the fuck?!” Droid shouted. All of us started laughing as Puffer told the story of the bike breaking and flinging him into the river. “There’s no ladder, so once you’re in, you’re in.”

“My dad took me to the track,” Droid started, going into a long story about how he shit himself immediately after arriving home. “I think I was just relieved to be home and I made it far enough.” 

“Jesus, mine’s not nearly that bad,” I laughed. “I bled through my pants at a guy’s house like a year ago,” I paused as they started laughing. “Dude really hit me with the ‘did you spill Hawaiian punch on my couch?’ and I have not talked to him since.”

“Fuck man, mine was when I was in school and I trusted a fart too much,” Pezzy began. “I had to call my mom and say I shit my pants.”

“Bro, why did all of you shit yourselves? Do y’all not have control of your bowels?” I laughed, taking a casual drink. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Droid, Grizzy, and Pezzy shouted into their microphones.

~ “How much do you make annually?” “Less than these bitches! The wage gap definitely exists!” I shouted.

“You won’t actually say it,” Puffer challenged.

“For 100 gifted, I will! I expect a good payout if I out myself like that,” I laughed.

~ “Who would you trade lives with?”

“Puffer?” Droid and Grizzy eyed him.

“Nah, I’m good. My answer is I’m good,” Puffer said fast. 

“I am at a crossroads here,” I laughed. “On one hand, I get paid more. However, I have a dick. I think that’s a deal breaker.”

“I wouldn’t mind being a girl,” Pezzy said, nonchalantly. 

“Have fun on your period, Pezzy. You’re a bitch when it comes to pain,” I checkled, taking another drink.

“Ah shit, nevermind,” He cringed.

~~

A few cards in, and a lot of drinks and shots later, the chat could tell we were feeling it. All of us were kind of letting all of the juicy details out.

“Who have you fantasized about in your life that you shouldn’t have? No celebrities allowed,” Pezzy read. 

“My sophomore year math teacher,” Grizzy said off the bat. “I forgot that motherfucker’s name, but I remember that ass like it was yesterday.”

“If I said someone in this room, I am not clarifying,” I laughed, downing my fourth Mike’s.

“WHAT?! We need details,” All of the guys shouted over each other.

“Maybe at a future card, but I am not drunk enough yet. Does that mean I should take a shot?” I asked, already pouring a shot without waiting for an answer and throwing it back. “Okay, what’s the next question?”

“What is your biggest online screwup,” Grizzy read off.

“This,” I laughed as I got up to make a new drink as I ran out of Mike's. As soon as I stood up, the room started spinning, so I immediately sat back down. “Holy shit, I am fucked. Can someone make me a Jack and Coke? This was the last Mike’s.” 

“I’ve got you,” Pezzy said as he was already getting up to get a new drink.

“Cool, I’m gonna pick a card while you do that,” I shouted to him, reaching over Droid’s legs to grab the deck.

“Woah, we got a magician over here,” Droid muttered after I flattened out the cards to pick one. I looked up at him, confused, before he said, “Take me to dinner first.”

“I have,” I pointed out, “multiple times. You’re just not giving.”

“Hey woah, no need to call me out like that!” He objected.

“She’s wined and dined you so many times. When are you going to fuck her?” Puffer joked.

“Exactly my point,” I muttered before grabbing everyone’s attention, “But, this is getting out of hand, moving on! Who is your hottest friend?”

“Y/N,” Grizzy and Droid said without hesitation. Everyone’s attention snapped to them as we all started talking over each other. 

“I think Droid,” I whispered into my microphone as I winked at the camera. 

“Who is the friskiest?” 

“I don’t know if I can or want to answer this,” Grizzy said as he took a shot.

“What was your most recent porn search?” Droid asked. Everyone started complaining, saying they were going to take a shot, but I pulled out my phone to check chat before pulling my microphone super close to my face.

“I walked in on Pezzy doing some shit,” I admitted. “That shit scared me for life.”

“When did you walk in on me, and when was I going to learn about that?” Pezzy shouted.

“Like a week ago, you asked for Whataburger, and I was bringing it to your room like a GOOD ROOMMATE!” I shouted toward him as I checked the chat. It was going too fast for me to actually read it while the guys kept pestering me to tell them what he was watching.

“Wait I got a question,” Droid brings the arguing to a stop, “Do any of you dabble in the hentai?”

Immediately, the boys responded with “Yes.”

My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as I cringed at all of them. “Y’all are fucking gross. Do y’all feel disgusting afterward because damn thats actually nasty.”

“I have gone so far down that rabbit hole, it is not even funny,” Pezzy admitted. 

“You are really feeling those drinks, huh” Grizzy laughed. 

“Yes, I am,” Pezzy responded definitively.

“We did not need to know you that personally, Pezzy,” I laughed, taking a shot.

“No wait, we’re not just gonna glaze over the fact that you didn’t answer,” Droid pointed out.

“What do you want me to say? I don’t watch porn,” I laughed defensively.

“Who doesn’t watch porn?” Puffer asked rhetorically.

“Me, duh,” I deadpanned as the boys kept arguing. I looked down at the chat and chat was loving the interactions. That is until the part where I said I admitted that I do not watch porn came on. Everyone transformed into calling me a ‘pick me,’ saying I was lying, or making sexual jokes about me being innocent in chat. Mods were not able to keep up as some were still coming through. I did not even notice that the guys had moved on to another question as I got up, swaying slightly, to leave the video. “Hey, I’m gonna head out. I’m hella drunk.”

“No, this is when it’ll get good,” Droid tried to persuade, but the last thing I wanted to do was sit here on stream. “Nah, I’m good. I’ve already ruined my reputation enough for the night,” I forced a laugh, moving toward the kitchen off camera. I put my glass in the sink and grabbed a water bottle before just sitting on the floor in the kitchen. I heard the guys talking quietly for a second before footsteps started approaching the kitchen. I looked up to see Droid standing over me before he took a seat next to me.

“What happened? Too much?” He asked.

“No, I can handle my alcohol,” I laughed. “Chat was saying shit, and I didn’t want to give them more ammo.”

“What were they saying?”

“Shit about how I’m a pick me for not watching porn or how I’m innocent or how I’m lying for attention. Nothing I haven’t seen or heard before, but I didn’t want to deal with it.”

“And you shouldn’t have to,” he said as he moved to put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “I’m sorry chat’s bullying you.”

“Again, not like it isn’t something I see everyday,” I sighed, leaning into his shoulder. He turned his head to kiss the crown of my head. “And again, you shouldn’t have to. You were literally telling the truth,” He responded. After a moment of silence between us, minus the murmurs of the guys in the living room, Droid pulled away slightly, still keeping me in his arms. “Plus, why would you need porn? You have me.”

“And why do you need amateur porn?” I retorted, “You have me.”

“wHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Oh, Puffer didn’t know. Oops.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[viktoriakomova]

I’ve said it before but it bears repeating: marta did a ton of shit absolutely terribly in terms of both management and athlete welfare but one thing she was amazing at was strategic development of the national team. as someone said on here a while ago, depth is not having a half dozen all arounders who score within a point of each other and are more or less interchangeable. USA has no longterm broad-strokes game plan. The NTCs (whatever they’re calling themselves now idr) are not being proactive enough and I suspect they don’t have the sense of authority/respect to tell personal coaches what they need to do to make their gymnasts genuine assets to the team regardless of their AA total score/placement

[dutchwinter]

can we get an anthony kissing boys compilation.. either images or audio clips or videos or like anything……

you have asked one of the right people for this. check out wilde's #agbkcu tag as well. okay now onto A History. this is not going to be in order in any way hope you enjoy it though. happy bisexuality

boykissing in 2005. nic newsham from gatsbys american dream. and i think he probably let me kiss him. another show around this time anthony said on stage that "nic from gatsbys is my new boyfriend" just interesting.

another patreon clip. i dont think this one was posted anywhere. before circas first show steve said "right before we started anthony was like... kiss me" which anthony immediately denies. edit: astro has posted it!

now sxsw in 2008. anthony green and craig owens. there are three different angles of this i have seen. gif from here

jon simmons from balance and composure. real passionate one.

david marion from fear before the march of flames. they kiss about 45 seconds in though the entire video is extremely gay. yeah. gif from wilde

sigh. brendan ekstrom from circa survive. about 14 minutes. completely out of nowhere. its so interesting to me.

jacob lang. merch guy for a few tours anthonys done and a friend of his. they kissed. yeah.

frank iero [and tucker rule] from ls dunes. as you might know.

chris carrabba. need i say more.

again. wilde my beloved.

and with that. alleged geoffthony kiss. there are livejournal users that mention this kiss and the fact that it did or did not happen. idr when this happened. and i think there might have been different moments? there are people that know more than me about this specific one i think wes knows about it. i dont have the lj stuff right now but i do have this tweet. [IIRC. THIS ONE IS VERY IIRC bc i cant verify any of this rn]

this guy. and probably other people!!

okay honorable mention is this peer pleasure clip where he doesnt talk about boy kissing but he does talk about loving all over a guy who im pretty sure is john gourley from portugal. the man. 🫡

edit: astro has mentioned another one here!

edit two: wes talks abt geoffthony here!

edit THREE: kiss on the cheek here!

[flower-boi16]

Hazbin Hotel Is A Show That Exists

So...after five years of waiting, Hazbin Hotel is finally out. I had very low expectations going to Hazbin - not only because of the current state of Helluva Boss (Its spin-off show) but also because of all the things I was hearing about it from people who saw the leaks - needless to say, it wasn't very positive. I was expecting this show to be a complete disaster on every single level, though deep down, I did want to be excited for this show - as I did used to briefly be a fan of Viv's work until I realized HB's MANY writing issues, so I went in with low expectations, expecting the show to be awful while deep down hoping that MAYBE It'll MAYBE end up being good. And after watching the first four episodes I can say that...

The show isn't awful nor is it that good. It's just...PAINFULLY average. In this post I'm going to give my current thoughts on HH based on the first four episodes that are currently released. Note that these are only my current thoughts on the show - there's a chance that MAYBE the show will improve in the second half of season 1. But for now, here are my current thoughts on the show:

1. The Animation & Visuals

The animation is...fine. The characters definitely look very rigged at times, but the animation is at least pleasant to look at. An issue I have is the camera work - sometimes the camera work can be VERY off at times. The show would constantly cut to different perspectives in some of the scenes and it becomes a headache to look at. It's especially bad at the beginning of the Happy Day In Hell song - where the camera looks like it's having a stroke during the sequence as it constantly cuts to different perspectives a LOT.

That being said - the camera work is mostly fine throughout the rest of the show so it's not too bad. So overall, the animation looks fine. I don't love it, but I don't hate it.

2. The Comedy

The show's comedy is...actually pretty ok. There were a few jokes that got a good laugh out of me, especially in episode 3, the episode that isn't written by Viv, so it therefore is the funniest episode of the show so far. I am surprised by the lack of sex jokes in the show which is at least a plus. That being said, a lot of the jokes in the show don't really land - mainly the ones that Angel Dust makes. So really, the comedy is OK. I don't hate it, but I also don't love it either.

3. Worldbuilding & Plot

So now let's talk about the main plot of the show as well as its world-building. Ok so the main conflict for the show is that due to someone killing an Angel during the last extermination - the exterminations are going to happen twice as fast now (6 months instead of one year). The mystery of what happened to the angel...lasts for about two episodes before we're given an answer in episode 3, and then it's just resolved like that.

Aside from that the series mostly revolves around its premise so far which is good. Alright, now lets talk about the lore and worldbuilding - basically Lucifer used to be an angel in Hevean but was seen as a trouble maker and Adam demanded that Lilith fuck him (or something Idk Idr) and Lucifer and Lilith fell in love blah blah blah Lucifer gave an apple to his new lover Eve blah blah blah the apple was cursed blah blah blah the apple created hell blah blah blah It sent evil to the world and Hevean was pissed about that so they banished them to hell blah blah blah Lucifer became sad blah blah blah Lilith didn't blah blah blah Hevean started doing exterminations because they were afraid of Hell's power.

(Semi-accurate description of the opening exposition dump). Ok so a few things; 1) I already asked this in another post but why did Hell never choose to fight back against Heaven when Heaven shouldn't have any power over hell because Hell was a realm created by Lucifer? Also, why does Heaven even have any power over Hell to begin with? and 2) So Heaven is eeeevil now and is going to kill all of Hell. Like I already said, it would have been more interesting if Heaven wasn't evil, and it also would've been better than this Hevean v Hell war we're probably going to get in the finale.

They even changed the reasoning to why Heaven started doing the exterminations, instead of it being because of an overpopulation problem now it's because Heaven was afraid of Hell's power...

...which contradicts the pilot which is canon to the series. But then the show just goes back to the overpopulation problem as the reason for the exterminations???? Like??? Which is it, is it because Heaven is evil or because of an overpopulation problem??? PICK ONE!!!

Hell is also kinda boring of a setting, it's just our world except red. That's it. So the lore and worldbuilding is kinda eh, Heaven is just evil cuz ofc it is and the lore has some problems. Its funny to how one of the lyrics of Adam's big villain song is "its all black and white", and since Adam is the bad guy and Charlie's goal is to redeem sinners, the show is trying to go for a "it's NOT black and white" message, but that's kinda ironic considering that this Heaven/Hell conflict is very black and white in it of itself; Hell good Heaven evil. That's it. Not saying black-and-white conflicts with a good guy and a bad guy are bad, most shows can make them work and be interesting, but Heaven would have been more interesting if it wasn't evil, at least IMO.

4. The Voice Actors

A lot of the discourse surrounding Hazbin until its release was the new voice actors. Let me just say I don't dislike the voice actors here; I think they are fine and they fit the characters decently well. Their singing is also decent as well. So I don't dislike any of the voices, they are fine for the most part and fit decently well with the characters.

5. The Songs

The songs so far are...fine. If there was one thing that HB consistently got right, it was the songs. Even if I dislike HB, the songs are actually pretty good (for the most part...). Hazbin's songs are...decent. There aren't any songs that I can say are bad, though I have some issues with the show's music; mainly the fact that the show sometimes shoves in songs...for the sake of having a song.

If you want to make a musical with songs you need to make sure each song has a distinct purpose for the story; take "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid. Before this song, it's pretty easy to infer that Ariel has an interest in the surface world - with her collecting human stuff and all. But the song further shows us her desire to see the surface - to see what it's like above water. It shows her desire to see the surface in the form of a song - it has a purpose within the story because it tells you something about the character.

Hazbin Hotel meanwhile sometimes has a problem when it comes to shoving in songs for the sake of meeting the song quota; the two biggest examples are "Hell is Forever" and "Respectless", as well as "Whatever It Takes". These songs are all completely unnecessary and they give us information that could have been communicated through simple dialogue rather than characters bursting out singing.

"Respectless" in particular feels less like a song and more like the characters just...singing a conversation with each other. The song is completely unnecessary and is just there to fill the song quota per episode. None of the songs I've mentioned are necessarily bad, but they suffer from being unneeded (HB also sometimes has this problem in season 2 mainly in episodes 3, 4, and 7).

Aside from that issue - the songs are...fine. None of them are bad but some of them are kinda useless and don't serve much of a purpose. I at least liked Happy Day in Hell and Poison, aside from that most of the songs are...ok. I just don't find most of them that memorable.

6. The Characters

Now, let's talk about the characters. First I'll talk about the main cast then the villains.

Charlie - I think Charlie's...fine. I always like overly positive and happy characters for protagonists so I was going to like Charlie anyway. She's fine; she's easy to root for and she's likable enough.

Vaggie - Vaggie's also fine. I do like her snark in episode 3, but aside from that there isn't much that interesting about her.

Nifty - Nifty's cute. Nifty's funny. I like Nifty.

Angel Dust - sigh Ok so I didn't like Angel Dust in episode 1 because of the fact he was another character whose one character trait is being excessively horny. And I also find all his jokes painfully unfunny. I'm not really in a position to judge how well his abuse from Val was handled so since I held a poll asking SA victim's thoughts on episode 4 and most of them voted no I'll just say that they didn't handle it very well and move on. So ya don't care for Angel Dust.

Alastor - Ah yes the creepy radio demon. He's also fine, I like his whole style and stuff.

Husk - Husk's whole purpose in the first three episodes is pretty much just to be pissed off at stuff, I kinda liked the scene where he talked to Angel Dust in episode 4 but aside from that, Husk is kinda just..fine...like everyone in this main cast.

Now let's talk about the villains so far!

Adam - Don't care for him. Sigh look Adam could be an entertaining villain but so far his dialogue and jokes are just painfully unfunny and I don't care for him as a villain. I could talk about his sidekick whose name I forgot but she's gotten so little screen time I can't form an opinion on her yet.

Also isn't it funny how HH was meant to be a female-focused show yet the males get more focus so far (As I've already talked about)? Ya, I thought so too. Anyways, the characters are...fine. I don't hate any of them, but I also don't really love any of them either. None of them are that interesting so far to me.

That's pretty much what I can say about everything in this show so far; I don't hate the animation but I don't love it either, I don't hate the comedy but I don't love it either, I don't hate the songs but I don't love them either, I don't hate any of the characters but I don't love them either.

7. Conclusion

So, that's my current thoughts on HH based on the first four episodes. Well...it's certainly a show that I watched. It's amazing to me how a show could be so consistently painfully average in pretty much EVERYTHING, from the animation to the songs to the comedy to the characters, to the episodes themselves, Hazbin Hotel is the most painfully average show I've watched so far. It's not bad so far, but it isn't good either. Again, maybe the show will improve when the latter half of season 1 comes out...

...or it will just get worse. I'm expecting the latter unfortunately due to the trailers making it look like there's going to be a Heaven/Hell war which means the show is probably going to abandon its premise like its spin-off (...that came before the main show was released). But ya, Hazbin Hotel is painfully average so far, probably a 6/10 so far, expecting the show to probably get worse, goodbye.

[dear-ao3]

Re your RB cursed second seat post, just wanted to add a few things and make a couple of corrections because this stuff really does add to the uh... flavour

First, while I know it's not entirely relevant, the whole Racing Point driver swap was SO MUCH more dramatic because Lance Stroll and Esteban Ocon are like. Besties. Like BFF friends forever since childhood. Poor son of mechanic and rolling in cash son of billionaire true friendship story. Esteban was fired in favour of his best friend, by his BEST FRIEND'S DAD. PEAK drama. They're still besties, bee tee dubs, because Esteban only makes enemies with his teammates.

F1 Invisible Moustache Twirling Supervillain Christian Horner also has a history of 'we're fully supportive [x driver] to be the best they can be and have no intention of changing our driver line up' and then oops, sorry. We lied. Like... five minutes later. Happened to Gasly, happened to Albon, and the former is currently where we're at with Checo. Christian has admitted that they were too hasty with Albon but oh dear how sad too bad boy's thriving now oopsie doopsie.

Also not forgetting that while Daniel was twiddling his thumbs waiting for his metacarpal to heal, Liam Lawson, the AT and RB reserve, got the highest placing position for the Alpha Tauri team this season (up until Mexico, anyway) while driving in Daniel's seat, and also threw himself into the RB second driver conversation.

And a couple of minor corrections:

DR didn't just leave RB because of the unreliability, it was more about being pushed aside for Golden Child Max Verstappen (affectionate, maybe slightly derogatory), which of course he knows all about because DR did the same thing to Vettel back in 2014. Who also had experience in that field because you could argue the cursed seat actually started with Mark Webber vs Seb Vettel back in like... 2010

Honda has been in F1 before. They sold to Brawn GP for the princely sum of one euro symbolic cash when they were going under, because Ross Brawn knew they'd built a MEGA car and couldn't bear to see them not run it for the 2009 season. Brawn GP won that year, it was Jenson Button's one and only championship win.

F1 drivers can't really go back to F2. If you've won it before, you can't compete again, but it's a feeder series so there's no way some ex-f1 driver is ever gonna be in F2 (or any of the lower formulas) because it's specifically for young talent. IDK maybe you meant Formula E? They also often go to WEC or IndyCar. Even rallying.

RB didn't give Checo another car at Suzuka he went out in the same car after they fixed it up enough for it to drive around one lap. Worth noting he was like 32 laps behind by this point (IDR the exact number but it was LORGE). spare cars haven't been a thing in F1 since 2008

Finally, the Fernando and Charles rumours are so fucking funny ain't no way either of them are gonna go to RB only to be a second to Max. I can see Carlos doing it though, trying for the grand return a-la DR. He's just Like ThatTM (affectionate, again also slightly derogatory). They've also been hardcore courting Lando Norris, who's way too smart and aware of his mental health to put himself into that depression spiral.

ANYWAY this isn't intended to be a big GOTCHA i just wanted to, as I said, add some extra flavour because F1 is so much more insane than anyone who doesn't follow it can POSSIBLY comprehend. Thanks for the post, I love seeing people explain the bonkers bullshittery.

yes yes thank you for pointing out all my mistakes and all that i j ew i was going to be getting Peer Reviewed (again, tumblr deleted my damn post so the first version was more accurate but i was pissed and i was also 1am so…) but yes. i am also new here in terms of the f1 drama. but yes it’s totally positively bonkers do you guys See now why fandom people are attracted to it???

[soleilnomoon]

geto suguru x fem reader | issa toxic affair, y'all.

6.2k words (i know, i know), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; angst city, angst angst city biiitch (yk the vibes) & smut (obvy); feat. cute stuff like a lil' degradation, toxic ass relationship, a lil infidelity, obsessive love & jealousy, lovers 2 exes 2 enemies 2 lovers, public indecency, hand job, oral (f receiving), knife play, a lil bit of blood kink, alcohol, geto is a certified asshole & but reader gets him back, yandere reader bc i love being toxic, gojo makes an appearance! also idk other stuff probably idr ok; also reader is black bc i said she is. this is for @510hz's how to be a heartbreaker collab event (ty so much for letting me participate, i had fun truly). this was inspired by mariana's "power & control"; there's also a lil inspo from "the glory" in there, you'll see. it took me forever but i survived, i hope y'all survive reading this 🤭 (if u see typos/grammatical errors no u didn't)

“you horrify me. but at the same time, / i horrify myself. we are horrible.” – hélène cixous

there’s a name for the disease you have; it’s called foolishness, or, in layman’s terms: love.

your mother warned you long ago, to guard your heart — to ensure that no man could penetrate the thick walls encasing it — yet there you are, a silly, pathetic thing scurrying behind a man who would readily cast you aside if it suited him. you truly did resist him at first; you rebuffed his advances with polite smiles and curt responses, yet he persisted daily and, in hindsight, obsessively.

it’s in his nature, after all.

a man like geto suguru simply does not concede if his pride is on the line — and your initial rejection did, in fact, bruise his ego; although, he’ll never openly admit that.

when he does manage to wiggle his way into your heart, with his charming smiles, small gestures that you somehow misinterpret as kindness, you steadily fall for him. it’s not your fault, not really. geto is just that damn good at figuring people out; and with you, it wasn’t difficult. he found it remarkably easy to sway you, he almost felt bad.

almost.

the first few months are pure bliss; he picks you up promptly for dates, takes you to nice restaurants in the city, pays for spa days and shopping sprees — buys you things you never really allowed yourself to buy on your own, surprises you with lavish floral arrangements that make you cry needlessly over how tragically romantic he’s being. and, suddenly, your heart, which was so strongly protected, becomes vulnerable and falls under his control. it flutters around helplessly in the gilded cage he’s crafted for it — a too-tight fit, where every time you exhale you feel the thick bars pressing tightly and you suffocate — but still, love makes you think that all of this is worth it in the end.

as long as geto calls you his, that’s all that matters.

when he calls your phone, you pick up on the first ring, eager and desperate —to hear the dulcet tones embedded in his voice, the words saccharine and carefully picked; things you’ve always wanted to be told, he whispers them all to you before you fall asleep.

but the thing about geto is, boredom is never too far away from him.

it wraps itself around his arms one morning, slithers along and drenches his skin, completely warping his sense of morality — making him much more severe and uncaring than he normally is. all your cute, quirky traits become bothersome to him; he tires of your laugh, doesn’t care to see that sparkle in your eyes whenever he shows up at your front door, and listening to you drone on and on about things that you like bores him to tears.

when he fucks you, it’s impassively, as if it’s something he needs to tick off his list of weekly duties, rather than something he chooses to do because he genuinely wants to be intimate. you don’t question it at first, but it becomes painfully obvious — and awkward — when he leaves every time, not bothering to kiss you goodnight or even look your way. your mind is cruel one morning, when you reflect on how sex with geto is mostly about him getting off and not you; it never bothered you before, but as the months go on, it starts one of many tiny cracks in his veneer.

the rejection is unbearable — tangible in the way it makes you sluggish and depressed — but you deal with it; you must, after all, he’s the love of your life. you simply can’t imagine being with anyone else now.

geto becomes the very man your mother warned you about, but you ignore it without question.

love is work, you remind yourself for the umpteenth time as you sit in the back of your favorite restaurant, checking the time repeatedly and seeing that he still hasn’t shown. you’re in a modest dress with a slit down the side and you’ve already downed two glasses of wine without him. it’s been forty minutes, the server keeps checking on you, giving you pitying looks despite your smiles and insistence that your boyfriend is definitely on his way.

but the longer you sit there, the less sure of that you are.

eventually you leave; they don’t charge you for a thing and you thank them for their kindness — pity, really — and head home. you try calling geto and get his voicemail again; so you leave yet another teary message, this one more incoherent than the last two, and toss your phone onto your vanity before crying yourself the sleep. you don’t know what to do with this feeling — the hopelessness is eating you alive; or maybe it’s just the wine making you overly sensitive.

geto knows he’s an asshole and relishes in it.

he has his notifications silenced while he’s downtown with a few close friends, partying in an exclusive lounge, drinking until his head grows heavy. he doesn’t remember how he gets back to his place, and barely remembers who he fucked that night, but he does have the common decency to kick them out come morning. he’s hospitable like that. his head throbs as he scrolls through his phone, promptly ignoring the twelve texts from you and the fifteen missed calls. gojo called him heartless last night, which he thought was ridiculous — he has a heart, it just doesn’t always work properly; geto now assumes gojo was referring to his mistreatment of you.

something about that nags at him a little, so he decides to play nice and call you back. the phone continues to ring as he lounges on the plush couch in his living room, causing him to frown; very strange. you normally pick up for him right away, but you’re not answering. he should be concerned, but he chalks it up to you sleeping and decides to try again in an hour.

after his third time calling, annoyance turns into anger which fuels his petty jealousy.

what could you possibly be doing that would require you to ignore him — him — of all people?

“y/n,” he says as calmly as he can while his hand grips his phone tightly, it’s his fourth voicemail, but he doesn’t really care. “i don’t know what game you’re playing at, but i assure you… you won’t win.” he doesn’t elaborate past that, and instead throws his phone at the nearest wall — not bothering to pick it up once it clatters onto the hardwood floor. his anger surprises him; subduing certain emotions is an art for him, so all of this feels very new and uncomfortable.

he tells himself this weakness is only temporary, and that you’ll come to your senses too. except, you don’t. you don’t call him back; you don’t bother texting, and you don’t listen to his voicemails until three days later. when geto finds you, you’re in the middle of rewatching your favorite show for the tenth time, eating leftover pizza in your pajamas.

with his nose wrinkled, geto shuffles through your apartment, taking note of the pile of dishes in your kitchen and the way you’ve completely let go of yourself. he’s appalled that a woman like you has succumbed to the frivolities that accompanies hurt feelings. he even says as much to you when you fail to greet him or acknowledge his presence.

it's when he turns off the tv, that you blink several times, sluggish and confused before realizing that the beautiful man before you is not a figment of your imagination.

“suguru,” you sound his name out like it’s unfamiliar, your tongue thick from keeping quiet these past few days; your mind’s a mess, you’re still reeling from the betrayal of him clearly abandoning you, discarding you like you’re just a toy that he’s long forgotten on the street. he snaps his fingers impatiently in front of your face to get your attention again.

“wh-what is it?”

he frowns again. “what do you mean ‘wh-what is it’?” his mockery of your voice and his accompanying sneer is unbecoming of him, you think, but you don’t say that out loud; instead you put down the pizza you were nibbling and yawn languidly.

“you don’t have to be an ass,” you remark carefully, finally glancing up at him as though you’re seeing him for the first time. love muddled your vision, but now you can see geto suguru for all that he is. a liar, a conman, a shitty human being; but most importantly, he’s still the love of your life. you take that last bit seriously; maybe a little too seriously.

but love has a way of making you foolish in ways that are incomprehensible to others.

geto narrows his eyes at you before his lips twitch and he laughs at your insolence. “okay, that’s fair. i did stand you up, after all.”

you turn back to the tv and shrug, flicking a few crumbs off your shirt. “doesn’t matter. what’s done is done.”

for some reason, your apathy agitates him greatly. your tone is off — detached, devoid of the usual joviality that you have whenever he’s around; he figures that he deserves that, but he knows you won’t be mad at him for long. you never are.

“don’t get ahead of yourself, y/n,” his words drift through the air, venomous and well-practiced — he’s mastered the art of tearing down others without even trying — his annoyance reaches its peak when you ignore him and he exhales loudly, as if the entire situation has bored him to death. “since you obviously don’t give a damn about my presence,” he starts, not bothering to hide his malice or irritation, “i’ll give you what you want.”

which is space. permanently — at least, that’s what he thinks you want anyway. he slams the copy of your apartment key onto the coffee table — something that would’ve made you flinch days ago, but you’re so numb you barely notice.

it’s unbelievable that after a year, this is how you treat him; maybe it’s for the best that he’s breaking up with you. after all, he’d never be able to tolerate you having the upper hand in the breakup. still, it does concern him a bit that you’re not reacting in the way you usually would; did he honestly break your heart that badly that you’ve taken to retreating to the far recesses of your mind? not that it matters to him; you served your purpose and wore out your welcome eight months ago.

he just needed a reason to end it.

once he leaves, you feel like you can breathe again. and after a few minutes, you realize what just happened. you scramble off the couch, heart beating rapidly, palm slick with perspiration as you yank open the door and call out to him.

but he’s long gone; already driven off, ready to take on the world without you.

you wear your rejection like a bruise that won’t ever heal; each word said, each call and text ignored, is like a punch in the same spot over and over.

will you ever be able to move on properly?

it’s not really his problem if you can or can’t get over him, as he’s already moved on within the hour. the thing about geto is, he always assumes he’s the one in control — that he holds all the cards in his hands; but he isn’t. he forgets that you’re entirely too observant for your own good, curious, resourceful, and lethal when provoked long enough. you foolishly grab your car keys and drive to his place in the middle of the night; you ignore traffic lights, drive faster than necessary, swerve in and out of traffic as a fit of madness course through your veins.

love continues to delude you into thinking that there’s a way to fix it all; there has to be, it’s the only thing you can believe in right now.

you think about ringing his doorbell, think about calling and texting, think about just banging on his window and demanding he let you in. but you don’t. instead, you lean against your car, dark, heavy clouds looming over that part of the city as rain comes down hard and practically oppressively.

but you don’t move.

you stand there, shivering; soaked from head to toe, hands balled into fists — his last words playing over and over in your mind, like a song you can’t seem to forget. and every time you hear his voice, your heart shatters a little more; you imagine he’s having fun inside, laughing with gojo and whatever new flavor he’s decided to whet his appetite with. you want to give him the benefit of the doubt; maybe he’s having a bad week? maybe he didn’t mean to break up with you; but the longer you try to convince yourself, the sharper his betrayal becomes.

the truth is bitter, inedible, and harsh; it clamps around your mind as the remnants of your heart morphs into ash.

you bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood, but you don’t feel it; how can you, after all that’s happened?

eventually, you hop into your car and drive to your best friend’s house — she’s the only one you can go to, now that you’ve realized that geto is serious about leaving you. after pouring your heart out and downing a few more glasses of wine, your best friend takes you by the shoulders and shakes you repeatedly.

“y/n,” she says calmly, eyes soft and warm, “honestly, babe, you need to move on from him. is he worth all of this trouble?” you consider her question, roll your bottom lip in between your teeth before answering properly.

“of course, he is,” you say quietly, and then a little louder, “my love for him is so strong that i actually think i hate him.” you’ve never seen your best friend so speechless in your life, but there she is, unable to formulate an appropriate enough response to talk you out of this.

but the thing is, as soon as those words leave your mouth, it finally clicks; all the pieces to the jigsaw puzzle set perfectly in place. how could you have been so foolish?

you love him so much that you hate him, and your hatred is so strong that it can only be perceived as love. it’s irrational, maddening, incredibly toxic; but you revel in it. you know what you need to do, you just need time to do it.

days blend into weeks, and weeks to months; you sell your soul to get back your dignity, that determination that geto stupidly overlooked continuously fuels your quest for revenge. you disappear from the city, change your phone number, leave your apartment, and become a nonthreatening ghost from geto’s past. he forgets about you every time he sleeps with someone else, forgets about you whenever he goes on vacation, forgets about you as he whispers the same sweet things to another over and over and over again.

his ego is something to be marveled, and he feels a little unstoppable these days.

six months later, geto finds himself at a stuffy gala — one that his company’s holding to legally siphon money from the upper 1% under the guise of philanthropy — and spends most of the night dodging gojo’s questions over another failed relationship.

“you really don’t think you’re the problem?” gojo says in between sips of champagne, eyeing his best friend through his dark shades, and smiling as if he already knows the answer to that particular question.

geto lets out a frustrated groan and rolls his eyes. “i’m not doing this with you.” because the last thing he needs, is gojo killing his buzz. he glances at the people in attendance, dark eyes flicking over each guest, seemingly uninterested in any of them until you walk in.

he’s not sure it’s you at first, as your beauty captivates him in a way that doesn’t make sense to him. you’re in a pair of heels that look equal parts elegant and enticing, a shimmering, gold gown with a plunging neckline and incredibly high slit. the color offsets the warm undertones of your rich, brown skin that seems silky and otherworldly under all the lights in the room. geto blinks several times, almost as if he can’t believe that it’s you. and, if it wasn’t for gojo making comments about how he didn’t realize you had curves like that, geto might’ve believed you were a figment of his imagination.

how the tables turn.

your date escorts you to a table towards the back, one that’s close enough that geto can watch you properly. something about you is different. he’s not sure if it’s the confidence you exude as you smile coyly at some of the other guests, plump lips curving upward whenever another man asks to make your acquaintance. you keep your head held high, graceful, as if you belong with that crowd — even though geto knows you don’t. you’d never be able to come to an event like this on your own, but he isn’t upset about that.

what he’s upset at, is your date’s hand lingering on your thigh, thumb caressing your knee as he leans over to whisper something in your ear; that’s your cue to smile demurely and swat at his hand. the laugh is well timed — you even throw your head back, offering geto a full view of your elongated neck and round breasts that cling to the fabric of your gown. you excuse yourself under the guise of going to the restroom, and walk past geto without glancing at him — it’s difficult, you so badly want to turn and watch his reaction, but you keep strong, hips swaying as you take the first hallway on your left.

he’s not sure if it’s curiosity, jealousy, or insanity that drives him to get out of his seat and stalk after you. geto was done with you, he knew that — you knew that — but there he is, chasing you like some lovesick teen that can’t seem to get their unrequited crush out of their head. thankfully, the hallway is empty, so when he rounds the corner, he finds you standing there, checking out your reflection in your compact mirror. you feign surprise when you realize someone’s there, one that morphs into temporary confusion before you smile sweetly at your ex-boyfriend.

“well, isn’t this a fun surprise,” you say airily, a sly smile tumbling onto your lips as you make your way over to him. he’s somehow forgotten how to breathe while simultaneously forgetting that you always looked like this — overwhelmingly beautiful and alluring — he just insisted you dress plain on purpose. you like that he’s speechless; you like that his eyes haven’t left you since you walked into the gala. when you get close enough that he can see just how long and thick your lashes are, he finally snaps out of his stupor — somewhat.

“y/n,” he says belatedly, a bit of awe and amusement coloring his voice, “i’m surprised to see you.” what he really wanted to say, was that he’s trying to remember why he broke up with you in the first place — because nothing comes to mind. not when you reach your hand to delicately tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, not when you intentionally place your hand on his chest, and call out his name softly, almost like a whisper before you take a step back.

“i changed my number,” you say in order to drive the point home and pluck your new phone out of your clutch. “and i moved, but i’d love to catch up with you.” he doesn’t say anything when you type your contact information in his phone and when your lips brush against his cheek, he’s reminded of just how much he adored you initially. he wants to ask why you’ve suddenly come back, but the words stick to the roof of his mouth — thick and impossible to remove, slowly rotting through his common sense. it must be some absurd act of possession that has him pull you close enough to brush his lips against yours; you relish in the nostalgia of the moment, with memories of him kissing you spontaneously during your dates — after all, you’ve been in this position so many times before.

the difference? your claws are sharper, dipped in one of the most potent poisons in the world — hatred.

but you have a role to play now: the naïve ex-girlfriend, who knew nothing of the world before meeting him. geto’s ego knows no bounds when you part your lips for him effortlessly, back arching as he runs his hand down it; his fingers are cool against your exposed skin and you shiver from the contact. he smirks at that, liking that he can still get that sort of reaction out of you. time is essential now, so you kiss him suddenly — your lips soft, supple, and sweet as ever.

geto uses that opportunity to slip is tongue inside of your mouth and familiarizes himself with your taste. you whimper softly and he smirks, thinking that he’s somehow won you over all over again, especially when you drag your nails down the back of his neck, scratching his skin without a care. they’re much sharper than he’s known them to be, and while the sting is tolerable, it’s also annoying. yet he can’t seem to pry himself away; your body feels perfect against his, and you surprise him once again when you rub your hand against his cock. geto’s never known you to be that bold before — and in public too? your kiss transforms into something much demanding, and before he realizes it, you’ve unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

a heat passes through both of you — and you almost forget yourself as you fall into a familiar dance, kissing him fervently as you wrap your hand around his cock. it stiffens almost immediately, a painful reminder that he’s still impossibly attracted to you, despite what he told himself months ago. you get drunk off of the power you hold over him — the man who mercilessly crushed your heart and left you alone to deal with the aftermath — and have to remind yourself that you’re only supposed to tease him a bit.

his breathing grows uneven, and it’s comical how he’s forgotten that anyone can easily walk in on you two — he just doesn’t care. he’d fuck you in front of everyone just to prove a damn point. your hand strokes faster, twisting as it moves up and down his thick length, his skin hot and smooth, keeping you in a daze. it’s always been like that with you — getting so hopelessly caught up in him that you forget anything else exists.

a voice in the back of your mind tells you to slow down, but you ignore it — the thrill of feeling each jerk of his hips has you moaning into his mouth, breathlessly kissing him like you have all the time in the world.

except you don’t.

the reality of that hits you faster than you’d like, so you bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. you pull away after, almost innocently and lick the blood off of him. the move practically pushes him over the edge, and he has to tell himself that he shouldn’t try fucking you in that hallway. you do your best to catch your breath and blink slowly as you both look at each other. to give yourself a bit of an edge, you swipe your thumb against the tip of his cock and admire the precum on your hand. you bring it up your lips, tongue gliding against your skin to savor the taste of him. it’s a polarizing and captivating experience; something about that makes him want to kiss you all over again, but he refrains from doing so, instead focusing on tucking himself in and fixing his clothes properly.

if you were cruel, you’d take a picture of this moment — of geto with a slightly heaving chest, flushed cheeks, confusion etched on his face as if he doesn’t understand why he let himself get carried away like that. your lipstick is smeared prettily against his lips — red, intoxicating, and ominous.

you smile at that; happy that you’ve successfully integrated yourself into his life again.

“let’s… pick this up again sometime,” your voice has a strange lilt to it — coy and musical, dangerously sultry. his heart skips a beat, and he thinks he’s gone mad; geto doesn’t swoon or obsess the way others do for him. but you’re different now, much more interesting, and mysterious. he knows there’s something wrong with this picture, but he can’t seem to connect the dots just yet.

he doesn’t get another chance to talk to you, as your date keeps you busy most of the night; you don’t bother looking at geto until the end of the event, where you wiggle your fingers at him before leaving.

as soon as you get into your date’s car, you get a text message from a number you’ve memorized by heart and smile as you mentally list all the things you need to do before your revenge can be complete.

little does he know, you haven’t moved at all; you still own your old apartment, but you don’t stay there. you temporarily moved into your childhood friend’s place — a ritzy, luxurious high-rise apartment by the beach — while they travel for work out of the country. it’s all for show, of course; you need geto (and gojo, by extension) to think you’ve somehow elevated yourself financially, that you’re successfully integrated into similar social circles, that you can casually score invites to lavish events that cater to the wealthy elite. after changing out of your gown and into something comfortable, you decide to pay a visit to your old place; it’s mostly empty, save for your old bedroom.

you poured your savings into surveillance equipment, have monitors set up around the room, have hundreds of candid pictures of geto and the people he frequently associates with over the past six months plastered all along the walls. you’ve scribbled out his face in most of the pics, and have drawn lines and arrows, written incoherent notes to yourself — making connections and scenarios so that your contingency plans are unshakeable.

geto texts you again and you smile to yourself, loving the way you’ve already slithered into his mind after one brief conversation with him. he doesn’t realize you’ve been watching him all this time, doesn’t realize that you placed cameras in his home, doesn’t realize that you have unfiltered access to his computer and phone — it pays to have friends who dabble in those things.

you make some tea before sitting on the cushy computer chair as you watch geto stress over you not texting him back; you chuckle and spin around in your chair, elation building up in your chest, rattling that gilded cage around your heart. he’s so stupid, it’s almost too easy; you open the text thread with him, start typing out a bogus response for a few minutes, then delete it and leave him on read.

it takes him half an hour to really lose his mind over you not texting him back, and all you can do is laugh until tears fall out of your eyes.

you want him to fall so hopelessly in love with you, that you become his very reason for living and breathing. then you want to carve out his heart and leave him behind. a perfect plan, really; there are some kinks you still need to iron out, but you know, in time, that everything will go as planned.

uneasiness settles into geto’s stomach over the next few weeks; you barely text him back, and when he calls, you’re always busy. it’s foolish the way he’s pining after you; he knows it’s just because he hasn’t seen you in a long time, but something about you is just so… different. the way you abruptly cut conversations short with him, how you keep rescheduling lunch and dinner with him; how you intentionally let yourself be seen on social media with various men and women. and even when he wants to delete your number and block you, he can’t seem to do it.

because there’s no logical reason why he should be upset. you two aren’t dating anymore, this is just his lust-ridden brain taking hold of his common sense. or, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

when you do manage to see him for dinner one night, you tease him mercilessly and without remorse. at first, geto thinks he has control over the flow of the conversation. you keep blushing whenever he strokes your palm, giggle appropriately when he bumps his knee against yours, and act demure when he gives you permission to order anything off the menu. and you do; the guilt you used to feel is nowhere to be found, instead you thrive in the high that accompanies spending his money frivolously.

in return, you slide your foot up along his leg — slow and tenuous, the first course in your act to capture his heart completely — flirt heavily without restriction and encourage him to keep ordering drinks. geto grows tired of dragging things out and insists you continue the evening back at his place.

“oh,” you say softly and, after a long drawn out moment, your lips curve into a knowing smile.

after you’re both full and pleasantly tipsy, he takes you to his place; in his mind it won’t be long before he has you begging him to fuck you — and then he can finally be rid of this ridiculous obsession. you barely make it through the door because his hands are all over you, tugging roughly on your dress to take it off of you. if you weren’t so determined to see this through, you’d laugh — at his eagerness, at his annoyance with the matter, at your uncanny ability to fool him into thinking that you really want him back.

you lay on his bed, legs spread wide, arousal dripping from your folds as he kisses along the inside of your thighs. normally, geto is an incredibly selfish lover — but tonight, he busies himself with devouring you entirely. almost like he’s trying to make up for lost time. your skin is littered with bite marks and hickeys, but you don’t mind; a few battle scars are necessary in the long run. an unprecedented hunger takes hold of his mind — drives him to eat your pussy with vigor and passion. you roll your hips forward, nipples hard as you moan his name loudly.

he likes how you’re falling apart for him — and only him; you tug on his hair roughly, nails raking against his scalp when he flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit. you forgot that when geto puts his mind to something, he really puts in work; his cock is stiff, but he chooses to ignore it for the sake of watching you writhe on his bed, hand pulling on his bed sheet as soon as he slips his lithe fingers inside of you. he pumps them in and out, fast and hard; you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming, but you lose your composure quickly.

the orgasm leaves you panting and whimpering, softly moaning when geto continues to lap at your pussy, despite how sensitive you feel. you get on all fours without prompting and rub your ass against his cock. the sight is erotic and has him gliding the tip of his cock along your wet pussy, an act that wholly surprises him, even more so when he barely gives you warning before driving his cock inside of your tight hole.

again, he wonders what is different; he’s fucked you more times than he can count, and yet this feels completely new — as if you’re not you, but someone else. and he’s so close to the truth, yet so far away that you try your best not to laugh, even as he powers into you over and over, his cock thick and imposing as his pace picks up.

he knocks his hips against you, strokes lethal but pleasurable. you hiss when he grabs a fistful of your hair, but you let him do it anyway — you want to bide your time before the big finale, of course. geto’s mind melts the longer his cock is inside of you, your plush, warm walls tight around him, squeezing in a way that has him moaning your name out loud.

it surprises him, actually, but he doesn’t stop himself; if anything, he’s more invigorated as he continues to fuck you like you’re the only one he ever thinks about. and, while it probably is true, you also know geto more than he knows you. he pulls out of you suddenly, half in a daze and entirely hooked on your body, and slaps your ass before telling you to ride him instead.

it's almost too easy at this point because this is exactly what you want.

you take your time climbing on top and rub your pussy along his length, grinding and rolling your hips teasingly. his frustration gets the best of him when he grabs your hips to hold you steady.

“y/n,” he warns, voice low and husky. you like him like this — too consumed with lust to realize just how much danger he’s in.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you say almost a little too convincingly, lifting up before sinking down slowly, his cock filling you up in the best sort of way. he’s in heaven, clearly; the way your cunt keeps sucking him back in, your arousal dripping onto his skin — your pussy is the gift that keeps on giving, he tells you offhandedly. you laugh and laugh and laugh, determined to snatch his soul out of his body every time you impale yourself on his cock.

his nails sink into your skin when he holds onto your hips, lifting his upwards to thrust inside of you deeply.

“you know, suguru,” your voice is breathy and hypnotizing, his eyes are glazed over and unfocused; you place your hands on his headboard, under the guise of holding on so he can fuck you properly, but really you’re reaching behind to grab the knife you’ve taped to the back of it. “you’re a shitty person.” there’s confusion etched onto his pretty face, and you chuckle darkly  as you buck your hips against his and brandish the knife in front of him.

he'd noticed that it went missing from his set days ago, but figured he’d misplaced it.

“where did you get that?” he grunts when you clench your pussy around him, still riding him as if this is a common occurrence for both of you.

you continue talking as if he didn’t ask a valid question and gently tap his cheek with the flat part of the blade. “you broke my heart, turned my love into ash,” you ride him harder, your ass bouncing on his hips, and he’s much more aroused than he should be. which is alarming because he isn’t stopping you at all. “and you went about your life like i never mattered.” that part still hurt, and you don’t think as you hold the knife to his throat, the blade sharp enough that it knicks his skin when you lean forward.

he knows he should tell you to stop, but for some reason, it’s as if he’s paralyzed by your confession. he deserves it, he knows that, but you refuse to have any sort of sympathy for him. a bit of blood drips down his neck and you stab the blade onto his pillow, nearly missing his face. he actually fucking flinches and it makes you laugh again.

“you’re so fucking stupid,” you almost pity him. almost.

geto’s life literally flashes before his eyes. he’s never seen you this ruthless; the soft, demure woman he knew before is gone — in her place, is someone cold and demanding, someone who won’t hesitate to maim him if he toes the line.

his skin blanches and he swallows hard, words lodged deep in his throat. he doesn’t know what to say to you. “i—”

you run your tongue along his jaw, and grin triumphantly when he shivers uneasily. “you don’t get it, do you? you’re mine forever.” he wants to ask what you mean by that, but you don’t give him the chance. “i hate you so much, that i want to watch the life drain from your eyes.”

it’s morbid and unreal, but it feels right. “that’s also a form of love, right?” you’re not making any sense, and you don’t care; you’ve deviated from your plan — you intended to drag things out, but once he started fucking you and acting like he was running the show all over again, you snapped. “you’re mine forever, understand?”

he had every opportunity to grab the knife, to shake you off of him, but you keep moving your hips, keep moaning for him, and keep kissing him like you want to breathe in his essence. he’s trapped and probably will never find his way out; he realizes now, that your return wasn’t a coincidence. it was planned. it’s fear that keeps him on that bad, that lets you keep fucking him until you’re satisfied, and when he finally cums, you smile wickedly and pick the knife up again.

“there’s no one who will love you the way i do, baby.”

[isa-ghost]

Isa my darling! Happy Birthday, albeit a couple of days early.

Seeing you screech in Philza's streams because Apollo hit you with that dodgeball yet again makes me giggle a lot.

How about since headcanon's for qPhilza's past/pre island relationship with qFit. How they got to know each other, and how quickly they became friends?

Idr if I said this on Tumblr yet but deadass I asked Apollo on my pendulum if qPhil is his blorbo and he said yes. He's been as invested in shit as me and it's been hilarious. I literally have crows yelling at me irl to keep writing rn but I'm answering headcanons first.

The entire time I've been distracted between writing these, crows have been yelling at me about it. Which. Is how Apollo communicates with me when I'm not actively talking to him through readings LMFAO.

Also thank you for the birthday wish :D [desperately hoping nothing else horrible happens this weekend please god]

Anyway qPhil headcanons masterlist let's go

Disclaimer that I didn't know of Fit before QSMP (I've only been in mcyt for 4 years monkaS) so these are gonna be largely pulled out of my ass and a lil repetitive.

These two both have experiences in anarchy and war, they've definitely brushed shoulders a couple times bc of it

They admired each other's work ofc. Phil is a macro scale kinda guy, total annihilation and victory that makes a statement. Fit's more of a micro scale kinda guy, zeroing in on one person or group individually and making their lives hell until the end in the name of surviving a little longer

On that note, I think we all sleep a little bit on the fact that Fit is Also a survivalist like Phil, just in a very different set of high stakes conditions. These two are equally skilled in it and equally sharp strategists

On that note, anyone who knew them from the past would fear the idea of them coming together to create a plan of any kind, especially of the anarchist-fueled variety. If the Federation has done their research right, they should know full well how terrifying this duo could be in an effort to dismantle their authority

Btw by brushing shoulders I don't just mean brief passings by, I mean they've like. Camped out for a night together, temporarily truced for the sake of safety in numbers, etc. More than a few conversations have been had even if the time they've spent together totals to less than a week.

However, even when they weren't actively paired together, they'd still occasionally trade or gift each other surplus resources. It was a genuine kind act, even if it simultaneously served as a reason for each of them to not come after the other. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.

Like why do you think Fit was one of the first threats on Phil's mind in Purgatory. He Knew(tm). And he knew Fit has an affinity for picking off the weak first, like a lion after a herd of antelope. To him, Purgatory was the awakening of a monster who'd been dormant for a long time.

See, present day they're QPR as fuck, they'd never do this now without 10x the pressure Purgatory put on them, but back in the day they took close notes on each other's strengths and weaknesses. Just In Case, yknow? They could very much kill each other. Back in the day they would've if it came to it, no matter how good an ally they were.

Something about how these two used to be so cold and hard to the world. Be it to self-preserve or some other reason. Something about how now they've both softened and warmed after becoming parents. They never could've imagined the other would "weaken" like this, especially back then.

Phil 🤝🏻 Fit - Phil being a historian of the deities/builds of his Hardcore World, Fit being a historian of 2B2T

A lot of this boils down to mutual respect, common interests, and secret admiration tbh. And what's more homoerotic than that?

They're both crisis preppers. Not doomsday type shit, just. Being ready for shit to hit the fan. They both come from places where life is significantly more dangerous than it is in other realms.

The crazy thing is though? Despite the above, they can't imagine being from each other's realms. Phil would LOATHE 2B2T and Fit would hate the absoluteness of Hardcore. Isolation is absolute, death is absolute. There's no wiggle room or margin for error.

With how adaptive the two of them are due to their origins, they could probably acclimate to any conditions. They'd complain about having to, especially if it was inconvenient, but they could. They used to swap tips & tricks with each other on how to improve their adaptability too.

Fit would've 100% been down to join Phil on Doomsday in DSMP. He was thoroughly impressed when Phil told him the story.

[racharii]

coming from an enby whos tme (tho i myself am not transmasc), i feel like a lot of transmasc people are doing this "have their cake and eat it too" thing where they want to be perceived as men or men adjacent, in our society a part of the oppressor class, while also still wanting to benefit from structures meant to protect against said class. specifically ones that have been set up in queer spaces. ive met quite a few trans men who were just as vehemently misogynysitic as your average dude bro. and (this is speculation based on convos ive had with trans men im not in every transmascs head) a lot of transmascs have a lot of internalized misogyny that they project onto trans women. ive had an irl ex friend of mine say something that i think encapsulates this particular issue fairly well. this was like 8 years ago, we were talking about trans rep in media (specifically orange is the new black iirc) so im paraphrasing; 'its messed up that we (afabs in this context) are sidelined for people who used to be men, we cant escape the patriarchy.' that was horribly transmisogynistic, so lets unpack it.

it assumes that trans women are just men

it assumes sex essentialism, that they and i were just women. that we were just poor Females having 'our space' encroached on by mean 'former men.'

im not saying that all transmascs think like this ofc. #notallmen. im saying that some do, and enough transmascs have internalized misogyny and not enough self reflection.

just because you are trans doesnt mean you are immune to bigotry and recouping oppressive structures. none of us are free of Sin™️. you as an individual have to make an effort to reflect on your thoughts and actions and how they might affect yourself and others, so that you are not a willing participant of our communities oppression.

for example, ive talked a lot privately about my journey to being a better person, (and pobodies nerfect, its always a learning process, you always will have things you can improve on. and thats okay, were all just human) i initially hated it/its pronouns. 'it' gave me the ick. i was called 'it' as a kid incessantly to make fun of my gender presentation, i couldnt fathom someone else finding peace and even euphoria in using it/its. i bought into the conservative talking points about neopronouns and it/its being detrimental to the trans community. they were "the bad transes" and me? well i use they/them but shakespeare used the singular they so im fine :), im one of the good ones. then one day, i was listening to some video essay idr what or who, but something they said stuck with me, "if it/its makes me happy, why do you care? how does 'it' hurt you really?" my trauma is not everyones trauma, people will find comfort in things that i wont, and thats okay. 'it' hurt me when i was young, by cruel kids and uncaring adults. why am i hurting my community, my fellow transes, by continuing to deny them their autonomy to identify how they like? so i got over 'it.' i saw the real harm was the fucking wedge being driven between us by conservative grifters trying to pick off the weakest in the herd before they go in for the rest of us.

visibility isnt necessarily a good thing for marginalized people. transfemmes are the biggest target of hate in our community atm. they unfortunately serve as the canary. global fascism is on the rise and to be frank, a targeted hate campaign against a trans woman is asking for her to be killed. outed, paraded as a freak, doxxed, swatted, killed. protect trans women, fascism doesnt stop with one group nor will you be saved by being "one of the good ones." trans solidarity, even the people you dont like, even if you think theyre icky or gross or whatever the fuck else you do Not give up trans solidarity. you dont make callout posts, you dont send death threats, you dont send hate mail, if you dont like someone Block Them and move on.

we stand together or we will be eradicated.

[foxes-that-run]

I was wondering, could Adore You be about the same person as Watermelon Sugar? He said somewhere idr that Watermelon Sugar is about when you first start sleeping someone (something like that) but then he described Adore You almost the same way! Idt Watermelon Sugar is about Taylor though. I mean the song might just be a general concept but it still has to have a inspiration right! Idt that inspiration was Taylor. But Adore You is very Taylor/haylor coded I'm confused

I have a post about Adore You here. Time to share this:

I do Watermelon Sugar a feeling more than one person. I will say though when it was written and confirmed it's meaning was both in Nashville in times Taylor was there and they were Haylor-ing.

25 September 2017

Harry said at Tiny Desk, it was 'start seeing someone' not necessarily that it was a new person. Harry is also a master at not giving much away in that kind of thing.

"The next song I am going to play for you I actually wrote in 2017 while I was on tour for the first album and I was in Nashville on my day off, and we went to the studio to play around for a little bit. It's probably the longest that it's ever taken me to finish a song. I kind of liked it when we first had it and then I hated it for a long time. It's kind of about that initial euphoria of when you start seeing someone, or sleeping with someone, or being around someone and you have that excitement, you know."

Pino Palladino, a renound bassist who was rehearsing with John Mayer was asked to play bass on it and some other songs after meeting Harry in 2017. https://www.vulture.com/article/pino-palladino-best-bass-lines-john-mayer-harry-styles.html Tom also said that Pino was brought in to play bass on ‘another song’. http://www.musicweek.com/interviews/read/kid-harpoon-reveals-the-secrets-behind-harry-styles-brit-nominated-smash-watermelon-sugar/082748

This was early in his relationship with Camille, and Camille may have recommended the book to Harry. This is why I think the song is more on a feeling than a person. But:

just before this Taylor was seen in NY then disappeared, which at that time was probably to Nashville

Harry released the Two Ghosts/Girl Crush Spotify single this week and performed in Taylors home town of Nashville, then started Watermelon Sugar

then the next stop, NY, he played Story of My Life in full with a heart kiss

Taylor released a 70 song Spotify playlist on the Haylor anniversary and Watermelon Sugar was started.

Harry's step dad had recently passed away, he cried on stage several times in FTDT and MMIH. (see 2017)

Then on stage in Nashville October 1 2021:

"It doesn't really matter what it's about... It's about .. uh.. the sweetness of life... Sing it for me... It's also about the female orgasm."

This is a break where he also recorded Satellite, he wore and played with the Peace Ring and added To Be So Lonely to the setlist in Nashville. Taylor was in Nashville at the time. (see 2021)

While both Adore you and Watermelon Sugar refer to Strawberries I think it is generally about a feeling rather than a person. That said.... he wrote the song and said what it was about in Nashville while Taylor was there both times.