#in case anyone else was wondering where i'm at with all of this

[moominvalleysunset]

Jack & Joker episode 10 thoughts on P'Oh's death

I saw a poster who said they were abandoning the show because of their treatment of Trans characters (Their examples: making P'Saran's character Nulek the butt of a joke and killing off P'Jennies character P'Oh quite gruesomely.) And while I completely understand that this is a sensitive topic, especially right now, where Trans rights are being attacked in many if not almost all parts of the world and the result of the US-election does not bode well for a fair and inclusive future (and as you don't know me, let me emphasize: Trans rights are human rights, end of story!), I cannot agree in this instance. Loooong-ass Essay under the cut, be warned!

First of all, Thai culture is a special case as far as gender, gender identity and gender expression goes, both historically and in the progressive movements that are happening both in Thai society and in the entertainment (specifically the BL) industry. You simply cannot judge it solely by Western (or even other Asian) cultural conventions and standards, and by viewing it even more exclusively through an USA-centric perspective you are not doing anyone any favors.

I think that everyone watching Thai BLs regularily at least knows a little about the underlying cultural issues and practices, but for those who would like to learn more, I would recommend reading Dr. Thomas Baudinette's extremely fascinating and well-researched book Boys Love Media in Thailand (https://thomasbaudinette.com/boys-love-media-in-thailand-2022-3/) , where he also touches on the development of presenting trans and genderqueer characters in Thai TV and film (though only up until 2021/22, and the last two years have seen significantly more progress, diversity and inclusivity in Thai media both in front of and just as if not more importantly, behind the camera.) It's a great read, and I'm looking forward to the updated edition coming out next year. Or at least read a Wikipedia article or two about the subject if you haven't already, it's extremely interesting!

Now secondly, I want to take a look at the narrative. First of all, the two trans/genderqueer characters mentioned above are not the only ones in the show. We have Nulek's friend Pharao, Joke's disguise as Jessie (not a girl but a genderqueer person in drag, and emphatically NOT a caricature), Arun as a femme character and not to forget P'Oh's business – and maybe life – partner, a Trans man. Neither of them has been singled out, ridiculed or punished for their not conforming to any hetero- or cisnormative standards in the story (except for Arun by his dad, and nowhere is this presented as anything but reprehensible behaviour by a father). They are normal people struggling with social injustice and mundane problems, like anyone else. Which brings me to the first of the two instances mentioned, Nulek. While I understand that leaving them at a trash heap (I think we all can agree that getting them out of the way was just a plot thing that needed to happen) might raise some hackles, they are not the only one left there. The – very cismale – driver that Joke impersonated was also left at the landfill, so it is maybe not all that symbolic? Especially because Nulek and Arun's other subordinate Pharao get their comeuppance later on when they get their wonderfully petty revenge on their fallen boss. They have gained agency, rightfully enjoy their upper hand and are again not being ridiculed by the narrative.

And now P' Oh, played by the wonderful P'Jennie. I am horribly saddened by her senseless death, angry and frustrated, because it was so preventable and unfair, but her being Trans is not the most important part here IMO. She was trying, she was struggling, she was failing, she was succeeding, she was funny and sassy and beautiful and a smart businesswoman, and she was the only character apart from the mains, Toi Ting and Ama (who were not spared, either), whose death would send a big enough shockwave through the community to finally rattle them into fighting back  (but also leave the mains able to function and not utterly paralyse them in grief). That's why neither Toi Ting's dad nor Tattoo's mom were viable options. P'Oh was respected and liked in her community. Having her die was dark as fuck, but narratively speaking IMO necessary, and she didn't die because she was Trans. She died because she was the only character whose death would have the right amount of repercussions. So I cannot agree with the other poster that killing her was "shitting on Trans women". Really not.

Thirdly, we have to leave the show and look beyond, behind the camera. These people are longtime collaborators and by all accounts great friends and business partners. P'Jennie is a star who has written lakorn and BL history with her roles. There is nothing but love and respect for her from the makers of the show, you can be sure of that. And I would really like to hear her speak about her character and her role here. And Nuleks actor P'Saran and their friend Pharao have been collaborating with War, Yin and their managers since the first En of Love Anthology in 2019/20. YWPBs managers P'Go and P'Aun themselves can be read as femme. YWPBs work environment and the people they choose to collaborate with seem to be progressive, inclusive, diverse and definititely neither cisheteronormative nor tone-deaf to social issues, as we can see in all their works and public presence. Even more so in War and Yin themselves and in what they choose to say, do and stand for publicly. Are they all perfect? No (who is?), but it seems to me that they are trying really hard to do what's right.

So while I of course understand why someone could be triggered, angry and disappointed at what they see as yet another instance of a Trans character being treated unfairly, I would argue that here this anger might be misdirected and this reading neither does justice to the characters, the narrative, the actors and makers of this show nor to the very real issues Trans and genderqueer people still face in Thailand and around the world.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my essay/rant and I would be extremely interested in what you have to say in return!

[sisterdivinium]

It's interesting to stroll around Fanlore reading discussions that took place in 2007 talking about the fractured nature of fandom on LJ and people interacting without having enough context (as in commenting on a post they did not read by a user they do not know) when you're living in 2023 and people distribute likes without reading anything or commenting; when there's supposedly "drama" of unknown origins happening in more than one website at the same time because there's no real "home base" for fandom activity anymore; and we're all carrying on with our lives reblogging things without even looking at previous notes and reactions to that same post even if out of simple curiosity...

[phantomrose96]

Okay I have a story.

So my birthday is this Sunday (May 26th). My mom ordered some presents for me but one of them (an Etsy purchase) was seemingly stuck in transit and might not make it on time. I tell my mom all good, no worries. She gets in contact with the seller. After a long delay in response they get back with "Right we'll fix it!" It ships, tracking label and everything, good to go! ETA May 22nd (yesterday.)

During the work day I check the tracking and it says it's been delivered in/at mailbox! I double check with my mom "hey, is it mailbox size?" because if not, I don't want it sitting at the front door where anyone walking by could snag it.

She says "it's definitely NOT mailbox size." Okay. I text my neighbors in the building "Anyone seen a package delivered? It's a birthday gift from my mom and I wanna make sure it gets inside!" Success! Floor 2 David (not to be confused with Floor 1 David) had brought it inside. Inform my mom. All good!

I stop by home briefly around 4pm, because yesterday was hot-hot and I just installed my window A/C that morning in the living room, and according to my cat cam my stupid cat hasn't spent a single second in the climate controlled living room and is, instead, voluntarily baking herself elsewhere so I'm like "great" and hop on my bike to go home (10 minute ride) to check on her.

I get in the building door. Patches is crying from the top floor because she heard me. I maneuver my bike in the front hall. The ugliest fucking 6-foot-tall cat tree(?)/totem(?)/statue(?) I've seen in my entire life is just. Standing there.

My first thought is "What the fuck is that." My second thought is "Oh fuck that is for me." I look around at the floor in case there's perhaps anything else that might, in fact, be the gift.

No. Me and Cat Pole.

It's taller than me. I turn it around to face me and its face is painted and this is, in fact, uglier than it looked from the back.

Um.

Patches is crying. So I just haul it up to my level. MAYBE it was supposed to come with twine that I wrap around it (and hide its face from the world) for Patches to scratch. Maybe this is a prank. Maybe this is an inside joke, because when my mom moved into her current house the neighborhood gifted her some ugly-as-hell totem that apparently, by tradition, each newest-comer to the neighborhood is required to have and display in their window so maybe this is a very good riff on that.

Patches rubs against it. She's not afraid of this horrid facsimile of her kind.

Great.

Meanwhile SHE'S fine and the condo is a little toasty but totally liveable so I'm like "Good, cool, you're not baking. You're having a good time. Enjoy your new sister, I guess, I'll see you later."

I go back to work because this is a problem for later me.

After work, after my run, after whatever, I get home and it's like 8:00pm and Patches is so happy to see me and the totem pole is still just. There.

I text my friends like "so a bday gift is here from my mom and it's the Biggest Ugliest cat pole I've seen in my life. Is this a bit? Did my mom go 'that's so ugly haha! send!' Maybe she genuinely found it cute. How do I navigate this." My friend Sarah has the good advice to maybe text my mom neutrally like "Got the cat pole!" and feel the waters whether my mom is like "Isn't it ugly? 😂" or "Hope Patches likes it! 🥰"

My mom goes to bed early so I don't do any of that yet. Problem for tomorrow me.

This morning, Patches wakes me up for breakfast. I get her situated and I'm staring at the fucking Cat Pole again. I wonder if my Mom's been wondering all night what I thought of it.

I take a picture. I text her.

Okay.

I get on call with my mom. I ask for clarity that the ungodly horrid thing is NOT my birthday gift and is in fact a mix-up from the seller who sent me this instead of my actual gift. She's wheezing between words. She thinks I'm being too charitable for the amount of Absolute Fucking Ugly this is. I have to gently talk her out of using the word "monstrosity" while messaging the seller asking what the hell happened here.

I tell her I need to apologize for harming her dignity with Floor 2 David, who thinks this fucking thing is my mom's idea of a great birthday gift for her to-be-28-year-old daughter.

My heart goes out to the poor soul who did actually order this cat totem and is lacking it on this lovely day.

[arminsumi]

First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?

Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!

LET ME MARRY YOU

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

2k

Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything

Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.

What if something happens to you?

He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.

There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.

That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;

I want to marry you.

I'm going to marry you.

Please let me be your husband one day.

As if he's trying to manifest it.

Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.

It's October 11th.

Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.

He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.

He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.

He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.

He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.

But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.

He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.

Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.

Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.

The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.

"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.

He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.

His earthly goddess.

The purpose of his benevolent actions.

He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.

It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.

Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."

He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.

It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.

"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"

"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.

It's a stark bright day.

Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.

You open it.

He looks at you, and you look at him.

"Hi."

"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"

Your voice fills his heart with life.

"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."

"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."

Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.

There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.

"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.

"I'll always find my way home."

A silence ensues after he says this.

"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."

"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."

"... me too."

"... why did you leave?"

He stares at you.

"... I was scared of you being in danger."

He gulps.

"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."

Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...

"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."

"... yeah, duh."

He smiles meekly.

It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.

He hesitates. He contemplates.

"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.

Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.

But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.

Let him just...

"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."

"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"

"Can I?"

"... what?"

"Can I please?"

"... huh??"

"Can I marry you, please?"

He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.

Can he? Will you let him?

It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.

"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.

He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."

"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."

You make him laugh. "Yeah..."

"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"

"No."

"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."

You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.

"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."

"You're damn right..."

"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."

"Satoru."

"Yes?"

His heart throbs. He looks at you.

"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."

"Oh."

You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.

So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.

"I'm sorry."

Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.

"My angel..."

When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.

He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.

Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.

Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.

"...Satoru?"

"Marry me."

You chuckle again.

"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.

He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.

"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."

On the verge of saying your name.

He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.

"Will you think about it?"

"I will."

There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.

"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."

"That took you, like, ten seconds."

You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"

He's silent.

"I have no idea."

"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.

His heart flutters at 'future husband'.

"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."

The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.

In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DPxDC Warlock Batfamily

They're not warlocks in the traditional sense, no fancy spell work or obvious theming. In fact, most anyone less magically attune than John would just assume they were metas like anyone else on the team, but they weren't.

It took a while to notice, just passing off the magical fluctuations around them as the ebb and flow of the natural world, or maybe some residual curse vibes from Gotham (ew). But it was too consistent. When Batman slipped into the shadows it pulsed, and when Oracle seized control of nearby computers it surged. When Nightwing took his inhuman leaps into the air simply trusting that he would reach his lading point it soared and when that nightmare of a Robin brought a room to darkness it rested like a heavy weight on his shoulders.

They weren't individual users, their eclectically cohesive group structure was too uniform for that; but they weren't some family of sorcerers either, being quite obviously unrelated by blood save for a few. The most likely answer was that they were all warlocks in service to some common diety, taking on aspects of its power to enforce it's will upon the mortal world- and John really hoped it was a helpful entity, because they were in deep shit.

Peeling the partially liquefied tentacle off from across his chest, Constantine sat up and brought his hand up to cup his bruised face. He prayed to whatever was least likely to hold a grudge that their little hail Mary there had bought them enough time to perform a summoning.

"Hey Bat, get your patron on the phone, this is getting fucking Eldritch."

"What the hell are you talking about," Hal Jordan pushed himself out of the rubble with a massive green fist construct. "Bats isn't a magic user."

"Hm." Batman grunted as he picked bone shards out of his gauntlets. "I'll need to get something for the ritual."

Everyone present sat up to look at him like he'd grown another head, except Superman and Wonder Woman who seemed a little excited.

"I'm sorry, you're a magician?" The Flash pipes up from behind the ruins of an old altar, only to receive a level glare from his black clad coworker.

"Warlock."

"Oh."

Constantine grabbed onto some chains hanging from the precariously damaged ceiling, rising to his feet. "We don't have much time; that thing's off licking its wounds in space or something, but it'll be back. You go off and collect whatever artefact you have from wherever you hid it and I'll start drawing the circle, where are we pulling your Patron from?"

Batman nodded in agreement. "The Infinite Realms."

"Fucking Hell."

-

The Watch Tower was crowded when Batman returned flanked by two other members for his little hero coven, carrying a small case decorated with constellations and nebulae.

Wonder Woman stepped up to look at the container, obviously curious, but not touching it.

"It will be wonderful to see him again, Batman. After this is dealt with I hope to hear the tales of my sisters from beyond."

"He'll definitely be happy to chat after we're done," Nightwing commented. "I hear he's been training with Pandora."

Red Robin nodded to that, an exasperated look on his face as he likely anticipated a long and drawn out conversation about different kinds of swords. Amazons liked their blades.

John gave that idea some concideration, Amazonian ghosts probably get up to some killer fights without having to worry about, ya know, death. He called out to the Dark Knight, "I've got the circle done, now we just need your call."

The three of them walk over to the summoning circle unceremoniously carved into the watch tower floor, Batman narrowing his eyes at the damaged paneling but saying nothing otherwise. The Dark Knight opens the case in his hands and pulls out what appears to be a small model space station.

The Coven spread themselves evenly around the circumference of the circle and Batman begins the ritual. "Salve patrōnem, egō stellam vocō." He throws the model space station into the circle where it appeared to float as the symbols in the ground lit up.

Slowly, a figure formed in the center, first as hands holding the model and spreading out over its arms and to its body in the shape of a young boy. He seemed to be wearing a black rubber hazmat suit with white accents and green lichtenberg figures crawling up his left arm. White hair appeared and with it piercing green eyes that seemed to be fixed on the toy in his hands. A cape flowed out behind him less like fabric and more like the endless void of space littered with stars and a cold weight settled on the room.

"Damn B, y'all really fucked up the floor this time."

Red Robin snorted, "Nice to see you too, Danny."

[tia-shay]

Astro Observations 2.0

Thank you all for 222 followers! <3

Take these observations for what they are: personal observations.

Super duper long because I love you all. :)

Aries moons tend to always be on the move. Often times, these natives have something energetically "off" at home which results in them not even wanting to be there. They're the type to always be at work or at their friend's place. May have parents they want to get away from. At least one of their parents leans toward a more masculine energy.

You cannot be in your feelings when you talk to a Virgo moon. Their love language is literally telling you all the ways you can improve yourself. It's not necessarily that they're trying to make you feel some type of way, they genuinely don't think there's anything offensive about it. They're naturally attracted to "fixer-uppers" and they love a good project. Only problem is, people are not your projects and your loved ones are allowed to be flawed.

On the note of Virgo moons, they also have a tendency to be permanently unimpressed. My mom has this placement and my sister and I always wanted grand reactions to the stuff we did as kids, but we never got them. Even to this day, my mom is the queen of giving absolutely nothing extra energetically lol. They literally look like this emoji --->😐. Unless they have fire placements, they tend to be the definition of stoicism.

I've been studying the relationship between Scorpio moons and their mothers for a while now because it is such an interesting dynamic. I noticed in the past, that Scorpio moon natives may experience a rather controlling mother figure, but I've recently noticed that this controlling nature goes both ways. Yes, their mother has control over them and their actions, but they have just as much control over her too. They're almost like puppets to each other. It's an incredibly intriguing dynamic that honestly leaves me speechless. Makes you wonder, in these specific situations, "Is anyone here truly the victim?"

We've talked about how moon signs can manifest and what your mother may have taught you, but what I have yet to touch on is how your moon sign reflects your mother's pregnancy experience. I've studied this a bit and I think my mom is the perfect example! My sister and I have opposing moon signs: Cancer and Capricorn. I've spoken to my mom in-depth about both her pregnancies and here is how she describes them:

-Pregnancy with Cancer moon: she was overweight, gained 50+ lbs during her pregnancy, used food to cope with her abusive relationship, was on bedrest, too depressed to do or go anywhere, spent most of her days in the house crying.

-Pregnancy with Capricorn moon: she was in amazing physical condition, gained less than 20 lbs during pregnancy (10 lbs of that was baby), had endless energy, worked out every day, worked overtime at her job, was broken up from my dad, lived alone, was in her bag.

Opposite moon signs and two completely different pregnancies!! Crazy, right?!

I've heard the theory that Capricorn moons are the eldest child, which is true in many cases. However, in my experience as a Capricorn moon, I'm the youngest and my eldest sister is a Cancer moon. But that doesn't debunk my "big sister" energy lol. My sister has always referred to me as her "big little sister" and when we were younger and my mom left us home alone, she always left me in charge. My Cancer moon sister was known for her big emotions and ability to quickly lose control. This dynamic has always been funny to me. Ex. We had a tornado watch (super rare where I live) and my sister was running around the house screaming and crying. While I was calmly in my bedroom playing dolls keeping it kosher. 🤣

God really did give his toughest battles to Virgo, Scorpio and Capricorn moons. No one else is doing it like us! We came equipped with everything we needed to handle ALL the bs in our families.

Don't scorch me fire moons, but where is the personal accountability? I've seen water signs talk their way out of some situations, but the way a fire moon will dance around the truth really needs to be studied. I made this observation before and a Sag moon came for me which is how you know it's true. 😭

Moon sign compatibility is so real y'all. As an earth moon, I mainly form deep connections and bonds with other earth moons and *some* water moons. The other elements just don't do it for me. Even with my fire placements & degrees, I still struggle to understand fire moons.

I've read before that Leo moons have a tendency to be selfish, which I concur depending on the situation. But I think the reason why some of them act like this is because often times, they are either the only child or the favorite child. So they literally don't know what it means to compromise or not get their way. I've only met 2 Leo moons (that I know of) years apart and they both had the same tendencies and personality. Let me know if you've had a more positive experience with this moon sign!

Fixed moons may have mothers who are very controlling over their lives. Their mothers have a “fixed” idea of what their child’s life should look like. They have a tendency to have a puppet & puppeteer relationship. I’ve noticed that because of this, these natives tend to have one area of their lives that their mother can’t control and they spiral out of control in that area. Kinda like a “look mom, you can’t control me in EVERY way” type thing. The most common areas I’ve noticed this in is their sex lives and drugs/alcohol use.

Of course the above note is based on personal experience. I’ve heard quite a few mothers of fixed moons say to other people: “I made them do this” “there was no way I was gonna let them not do this…” like the kid has no choice in the matter.

Okay, enough about moon signs. For now...

This may not be too popular with the astro girlies buttt I believe we have a tendency to attract the versions of signs we speak into existence. For example, when I first started studying astrology, I was sick to my stomach to see that I was a Sagittarius rising because I had back-to-back experiences with Sagittarius suns stabbing me in the back, so I told myself they were the worst. In time, I wanted to accept all of my chart which included my own Sag placements. I had to heal my understanding and perception of them to see them differently. Now, I attract the funniest and kindest Sag suns! It all started with me. This is your sign to heal your trauma with that placement. 🤍 (yes, this is also a message to myself). What you see won't change until you change what you see!

If there's anything a mutable rising is gonna do it's change their physical appearance.

Earth risings, rising at earth degree, or chart ruler in earth house: these people are less likely to take bold chances and risks with their appearances. Not really the type to dye their hair crazy colors, although they are quick to get visible tattoos.

Virgo in big 6 appears naturally put together. They don't really have to get ready because they stay ready. And they expect the same from you, especially if you're their romantic partner. This is amplified if they have Libra or Leo placements.

I’ve noticed Virgo suns and risings are much less likely to wear makeup. I see them with it maybe once a year and even then it’s like one coat of mascara and some highlighter. One thing I have heard a lot of Virgo women say is that they literally don’t know how to do their makeup which may factor into why they don’t wear it. Virgo moons however do tend to wear makeup.

Aries and Scorpio placements are very protective of their loved ones. One wrong look in their direction and they're ready to pounce.

Gemini-Sagittarius axis: if there's one thing these placements are gonna do it's laugh at absolutely nothing for an extended period of time.

Taurus and Libra placements, do you really need that new blouse? Or that new stationary knowing dang well you have more than enough? No, put it back. Aht! PUT IT BACK. And keep your receipts, so when you get home from that impulsive purchase, you can bring it right back where you got it from.

Something about Virgo, Scorpio, Sagittarius and Capricorn placements in dark academia that really does something to me chile...dark academia was made for us!

Saturn rules teeth. Saturn placements and aspects can describe your teeth’s appearance and health. Saturn aspecting Jupiter may have larger teeth. Aspecting Mercury may result in the native having smaller teeth or possibly getting veneers. Saturn aspecting Venus can manifest as the native receiving many compliments on their teeth/smiles. In the case of harsher aspects, the native can feel their teeth directly hinder their perceived beauty.

I’ve noticed people with prominent Gemini/Virgo/Mercury placements are much more likely to have gaps in between their front teeth. Often times, this is a result of their teeth being on the smaller side.

Virgo placements (esp. moons) can have naturally “perfect” teeth that don’t require braces. But upon closer inspection, you can see their teeth are not perfect, but rather, the imperfections are so minuscule you have to truly look to find them.

Libra Suns typically go for either the relaxed look (very natural appearance, not much makeup) or all the frills (makeup, couture, luxury). I have yet to see an in between. Libras with Scorpio/8th house influence enjoy darker colors and go for a much more relaxed look. More likely to portray a dark feminine embodiment of Venus or a more natural feminine. Especially if they have Virgo placements.

Aries suns (males and females) are the BIGGEST sweethearts and I don’t see enough people praise them for their pure hearts. 🥹

DO NOT under any circumstances copy, paste, reword, rewrite, translate, or repost my work.

All Rights Reserved to astro-enthusiast.

[darkbluekies]

(Husband) Dr Kry & Hedwig drabbles: summer day activities

Yandere!doctor & yandere!richgirl

Warnings: none, this is probably as fluffy as you can come

Dr Kry:

For once, you are allowed out of the white edwardian villa and allowed to take a walk among society. Dr Kry is wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of sand colored shorts. His blonde hair is brushed back and over his eyes are a pair of sunglasses. Summer brings out a more laid back version of him.

"Hey, hey, come here", he says as you start to walk away from the car. "You need sunscreen."

He helps cover your face with it. He's careful with his fingers, making sure not to poke you in the eye.

He holds your hand as you start to walk. You walk through greenery, past wooden houses in red and white, and by harbors with sailboats. It seems like all of Sweden population is out at the same time because you pass by more people than you have seen in years. Everyone else wants to enjoy the sunshine. Dr Kry doesn't greet anyone as they walk pass, and neither do them. He gives them a small, awkward smile and moves you closer in case you're about to walk into to someone.

"Karl, can we buy ice cream?" you ask as you walk by a kiosk.

"Sure, what flavor do you want?" he asks and takes out his wallet from his pocket.

"Mango", you say excitedly. "I haven't tried that before."

Dr Kry orders from the woman behind the counter.

"You should take some too", you say. "Don't pick the coffee one, you always take that one."

He sighs and looks at the different flavors.

"And a salted licorice for me, thank you", he says.

"Come on ...", you mutter.

"Don't knock it til you try it", Dr Kry smiles over his shoulder.

He pays and thanks the woman behind the counter. He gives you your paper cup and a small plastic spoon. The mango ice cream is refreshing, reminding you of sorbet. You get to try ice cream from Dr Kry’s spoon and you cough at the salty taste. Dr Kry chuckles and takes a bite.

You take lunch at an old café. Kry picks up his phone and snaps a picture of you that he immediately puts as his lockscreen.

"Can we please do this again?"

Hedwig:

Her pool is the perfect temperature. The two of you are planning to spend the entire day out by the pool. Hedwig have bought a new pink bikini that's she had forced you to help find. It took her three hours to decide on one.

"I'm thirsty", you say and sit up on your sun chair. "Would be nice to have something to drink."

"Trudy!" she shouts.

A small, older lady comes out through the doors.

"Yes, miss Hedwig?" she asks.

"Couls you please bring us something to drink?" Hedwig wonders. "And please make sure there are lots of ice!"

The woman nods and walks back inside. You sit down on Hedwig’s chair, eventually laying down. She guides your head to her bare stomach where you rest your cheek on her burning skin. She plays with your wet hair.

"We're going out with the sailboat in two weeks", she says. "We're going to sail around the Mediterranean. I want you to come. It won't be fun without you."

Her "sailboat" could very well be a small yacht.

"I don't know", you mumble.

Her father scares the living hell out of you.

"Oh, come on, you have to!" she whines. "I won't go without you. It'll be fun. We will visit all sorts if places. You have to come."

Trudy returns with two glasses of lemonade and ridiculously many ice cubes. The two of you thank her and start to gulp it down.

"Y/N get up, let's swim", Hedwig says and taps your shoulder.

She brings out a floating ring and tries to climb into it. You push her into the pool, hearing her scream cut off.

"Fuck you, Y/N!" she coughs and hurries to swim to the ladder. "You have to let me push you in now-"

"No, no-" you try, but she grabs your arms with an evil giggle.

"In you go!"

You're pushed into the water and hear her laugh. Hedwig jumps in afterwards and hugs you under water, smiling widely. She kisses you quickly before diving.

[jasontoddspussy]

i kinda wanna write a short crack-ish time travel au where 12 year old jason swaps places with 22 year old jason bcs it'd be so fkn funny everyone would be so concerned. bcs like jaybin was not the angry kid fandom seems to think????? he was so sweet?? he listened, he was happy-go-lucky and wanted to help, found wonder in everything (robin gave him magic) and he was just so full of life and hope

so im just imagining:

titans: so hows it going with robin? you havent really talked about him or complained about his goody-two shoes sunshine-ness for a while. you good?

dick: well, uh. you see.

titans: also, who's the body-guard?

jason:

dick: so uh. this is.. future? robin..?

jason, 6'4 built like an idustrial fridge and a heavy aura of ''i can and will break your neck if you look at me the wrong way'' and voice gravelly from either the scar tissue or smoking or both: sup

titans:

titans: (just. stares. uncomprehending)

More under the cut V

just got like a funny picture in my head of like. a time travel AU where jason either swaps places with his younger self or somth idk but they're like sitting quietly eating breakfast and it's all fun and good but then a magical poof ensues and bam. adult jason is sitting there and jason is very confused bcs like yeah he was in fact sitting and about to eat but that had been at the nest with tim across him and maybe dick or damian snoring away on the couch in the next room.

meanwhile, dick and bruce and alf are all.. very confused bcs 1) baby jay just vanished. not only is the kid gone but in his place is a man who sorta looks like jay. (i headcanon jay as trans, this was before he came out.. tho i do have aus where he doesnt get to come out to anyone but tim, who makes a secret grave in his honor and doesn't out him.)

and bruce is like.

b: caroline...? is that you?

jay: (blinks) hm. congratulations, it's a boy. (jazzhands).

2. this man looks like he's seen the worst things humanity can offer, not to mention the very extensive scarring *covering every visible inch of his body* and the creepy either white eyes or green eyes.

and now he's sititng with just bruce and a very young looking dick and all of them just stare at each other and all jay can say is "fuckin' hell. seriously?" and groans bcs he did not want to deal with bruce. at all.

3. this man is not as surprised to be there as he should be.

jasons really not pleased with the situation but it is what it is and he's like just call constantine or zatanna or whatever. meanwhile everyone else is too busy staring at the fact jason, tiny jay, is taller than freakin' bruce and built like an industrial fridge (that isnt from lowes). none of them know how to feel about this

just like.

"you're.. awfully calm about this."

"eh, i've seen weirder." it is unsaid but jay is thinking of discowing.

n the three of them just has no idea how to treat this adult jason. this jason who seems.. familiar but so, so very different. obviously something must've happened bcs the guy looks like he's been in a freaking zombie apocalypse. and jays just like i cant wait to be home i hate this place, and makes the most unnerving comments here and there that just makes the others more confused. like.

"you can sleep in your old..? room. we will need to look for a change of clothes, though."

"ill use a guest room, i'm not setting a foot in that shrine."

"as you can see by this footage it's possible-"

"oh, that's not who killed him. look there, that's a falcone mark. this wasn't random but premediated."

"hm why are you even bothering with this case? listen - that's the sound of a skull being crushed, not the sound of an arm breaking, duh."

and they just get more confused and concerned

jason is a giant man made of muscle and rage and everyone is left reeling cause something happened to him, but he wont say what, and everyone keeps trying to guess and he doesnt clarify anything and obs no one is thinking "he died, got revived, turned into a zombie, pumped through HRT rage edition, becamea crime lord, was killed by his dad who chose to save his murderer, thrown into arkham by his older brother, broken out by his younger brother/boyfriend, made his own team of outlaws and put himself back together, only then starting to reconcile with some of the bats"

when they finally figure out how to get him back, someone, maybe baby timmers guesses "you were turned into a zombie" as a joke and jay finger guns him and says "yep" and then back jumps into the portal to get him back to his own time

meanwhile baby jason has the time of his life

not only is he apparently tall, *but* dick likes him?? he's apparently done a lot of good for crime alley??? he has a brother? boyfriend? both?? who looks up to him and is both very familiar yet he doesnt recognise him at all, and a younger brother who also looks up to him and is very protective and reminds him of like a small cat?????

dicks like we gotta get so many pictures of you!!! and jays like super confused but also like ok???

he can obviously tell that somethings up that theyre not telling him. but honestly the fact that it's like a decade into the future and he has so many people who loves him??? he decides its a problem for future him.

everyone is just very happy bruce is away on a mission in space.

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x gn reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.39k | part 2

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: not communicating and not talking about your feelings (not miscommunication since you don't even communicate)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There's too many beds.

The one night where you guys don't manage to make it to a motel, there's too many damn beds.

The camper van can fit pretty much all of you at once, not that the seven of you will do that anyway. Dani and Dexter have claim on it, as the drivers, and will probably accept two more comfortably.

In Lilly's van there's the backseat and the floor, but if we're counting, for how many beds there are by technicality, the two front seats as well.

You always have tents and sleeping bags around too, just in case you guys can't drive everyone from any recently unfortunate communities to the nearest hotel (although you'd certainly try). To give a rough estimate, about a dozen tents?

Then there's Tyler's truck, the two front seats and the back seat, and the truck bed. It's a bit short, but it can fit plenty people curled up.

So what to choose?

You should probably stay in a car. Much more heat that way, but who's gonna take you in? The designated drivers obviously prefer their own cars, so... Dexter's campervan is pretty spacious? Then again, so's Lilly's, and to be honest she's more of a vibe than the other two, but also why would you need vibes if you're just sleeping?

Maybe you should start a fire, huddle around that? No, that's a hazard, nevermind the fact you only know how to start a fire in theory.

Let's stick to a car, then. Lilly or Dex & Dan for space... Lilly, sure, why not?

As you start heading over to Lilly's van, you hear a sharp whistle. You don't have time to wonder who it's from, as Tyler spins you around.

"You're coming with me." He proclaims, taking you by the shoulders, and you can only laugh.

"Why me?"

Tyler grins, walking you unceremoniously towards his truck bed. "Because you're you, dove." That alone sounds rather intimate, so he fixes his mistake quickly. You're just friends, after all. "And Boone kicks people in his sleep, Lilly's hair gets everywhere, Dani steals the blankets, Dexter snores, and Ben...it's pitiful how he squeezes himself into the corner whenever he's sleeping next to someone, so we always give him his own space."

Right, all good points you'd forgotten.

"So why exactly am I better?" You tease, stopping in your tracks so Tyler bumps into your back and stay close.

"You're warm." And at first it seems like that's the only thing he'll say, your only benefit, as he pauses; but then the rest comes spilling out like a toad strangler. "You're also soft, you don't steal the blanket, you don't complain when I suddenly start talking and you don't snore."

Tyler doesn't mention that the two of you cuddle when you bunk together, and that you bunk together often. He doesn't mention how tonight he'll let you cuddle up on his chest, or perhaps how he'll press his nose against yours and let you play with his hair, because simply mentioning it will mean you'll have to talk about it.

You don't want to talk about, you think; and neither does he. You don't want to talk about how there's something different with the way he slings his arm around your shoulder, or the way you knock your head against his, or how he always gives out your share of whatever (pizza, cookies, etc.) before anyone else, or how you always offer your help to him no matter what.

They're always easy things to ignore, his skinship is not conditional and neither is your kindness, but there's something about the way you look into his eyes when you say thank you, and something about the way his touch lingers.

You don't want to put your finger on it, at least not this season. You'll say it again the next season, and the next, but you ignore that.

"So then I'm your favorite person?" You turn around and bonk your fist against his chest.

He whistles again, drawn-out like he does in awkward moments, but you know it's only playful. "Don't push your luck, dove. You're like... top 5!"

"Top 5? Aww," You feign offense, plopping your hand over your own chest now, "I didn't make it to top 3?"

He splays out his hand and begins to count on his fingers. "There's my mom, then my dad, then the family dog, Liam from the rodeo, and then you."

"The family dog?" Your eyebrows furrow, and the acting seems a bit too real until the look on your face gives away to a memory of his dog giving you kisses. "Oh, yeah, okay. I get it."

"See? You get it." Tyler chuckles, spins you back around and keeps on walking.

The spot you guys picked today is drier than the last, which is something you're thankful for. It's quite far from any town, but the streetlights that adorn the far off road make you feel a bit safer that civilization is just around the corner. There's a light breeze, not too cold and not too fast, and the stars! Oh, the stars.

They're damn nice out here cause they're actually visible tonight, a little less light pollution, you think. It's certainly a lot brighter than, say, NYC or Washington.

"Ain't they pretty today?" Tyler comments, his hands on your shoulders squeezing.

"Yeah. Sparkly too. You know any constellations?"

"No," He hums, his voice holding a bit of lament. "I tried, once. I tried taking a class in college. Astrology."

"How'd that go?" You ask offhandedly, hopping onto the bed of the truck.

"Ended up being too stressed with my main curriculum and dropped the class before it got too far." He fixes a tarp over the top of the truck bed, over the exoskeleton, so not much light will shine over your eyes when you try to sleep.

"The smart Tyler Owens got too stressed?" You ask as you help him up.

"Being smart doesn't mean I have good time management." Tyler says as he sits next to you, and you shrug. Suppose he's right.

"Still pretty though." You hum, leaning your head against his shoulder as you look up.

"Yeah." He agrees. His arm comes to wrap around you naturally, running up and down your side. "Have you ever tried to come up with constellations with... I don't know, whoever you were looking at the sky with?"

"You know what? I don't think so." You raise a finger, tracing a path in the stars for a moment, trying to find something interesting.

He finds one before you, pointing at a group of stars in a weird glob shape. "There, a cloud!"

That alone gets you to let out an ugly, surprised laugh; despite how ugly you might've thought it to be, he thinks it's cute. "You trynna cloudgaze with stars, cowboy?"

"Shut up." He laughs, knocking his head against yours. "You try, genius."

After a couple seconds, you point out a distinct...cone shape in the sky. "Unicorn horn."

"Unicorn horn?"

"What am I supposed to say, cone?"

"You could've said ice cream cone, a little more age appropriate, you know?" He holds out his hand, holding out a small gap between his index and thumb fingers to accentuate little.

"Yeah, well it has no ice cream, dumbass."

"Woah," Tyler withdraws, raising his hands in surrender. "no need to get so defensive, dove."

You slap his hands only to draw them back around you. He has no complaints about that. "Clearly we both suck at this. Let's just admire the stars normally."

He huffs out a laugh but turns his gaze back to the night sky without complaint. It's rather peaceful, this moment, and so nice. Maybe it's not rare that you get comfortably quiet moments with him, nor is it ever rare for Tyler to hold you close like this, but it doesn't make it any less endearing.

"Look!" Tyler breaks the silence suddenly, finger tracing a path in the stars. "A heart."

"You're kidding." You huff out. He's just playing with you, he has to be, especially after your miserable attempts at finding shapes in the sky.

Despite yourself, your eyes will the stars above you into the shape of a heart. Goddamnit, you think, because it's definitely a sign.

"I'm going to sleep." You tear yourself away from his grip and he laughs and tries to steal you back to him, but you fight briefly and end up winning. It's a nice victory, especially because you won over him, but it's not on par with actually finding something in the sky (and you're avoiding the sign).

Tyler chases after you, flopping down beside you. The tarp above casts darkness over the back of the truck bed, but a soft glow still shines through.

You sigh and tuck a hair of Tyler's behind his ear, to which he only laughs. "Jealous, much?"

"Oh, totally." You'd roll your eyes, but they're stuck on his.

"I won." He's triumphant, but you can only focus on how pretty his smile looks.

"You did." You reply, not fighting him on it, and slowly his amusement fades away with the deflation of his body.

"You're not making this fun." Tyler steals your hand, presses the back of it to his lips and notably does not pucker up and kiss. It might be payback, or it might be avoiding the obvious intimacy that kissing you is.

"It wasn't a competition, anyway." You remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

His attitude eventually exudes out of him with a sigh, and he lets go of your hand to push closer. His head rests below your chin, his nose against your neck, and it's not new, but it's not old either.

"I'm sick n' tired of you." He huffs against your neck as you take the opportunity to tuck the both of you in.

You hold back a laugh. "Oh, yeah? Tell me why."

His voice is muffled against your neck, and maybe the vibrations tickle, but you don't dare move away. "I won! We should be celebrating that."

"Celebrate it in your dreams." Despite it being practically the same thing as in your dreams, it actually sounds quite genuine.

"Don't be like that," Tyler whines. "let me stay up for a little while."

You put your hand in his hair, then, twirling strands around your fingers and scratching his scalp, and Tyler hates you and also loves you, because it feels so good that it pulls a groan out of him, but it's lulling him to sleep.

"You're cheating." He whines again. He's being rather childish, huh?

"It's way past your bedtime." You say in a sing-songy way. Curiosity takes over, and you pull his head away from you gently to look into his eyes.

They open once you pull him off you, just barely. Half-lidded, not by lust, but by sleep. "I just wanna hold you for a little while longer." He says, and you don't know how he does it, but his eyes have turned pleading.

"That's on you to try, cowboy." You huddle close again, allowing him to take up the same position as before.

Despite himself, Tyler sighs contently, wrapping his arms around your midriff. One of your hands is on his back, rubbing slow circles, and the other is back on his hair.

He's definitely not going to last long now.

"When's the last time you've ridden a horse?" Tyler babbles on to try to keep awake, but you can hear the sleepy lilt in his voice. "I think my last time was when I last visited home, before the season started."

"One sheep over the fence, two sheep over the fence–"

"Shuddup."

You laugh, hands smoothing over his hair again. You're not sure how you're not very sleepy right now, tucked under the blankets, in his warm hold. Maybe it's the subconscious thought of not accidentally hitting your head on the spare wheel above you, or the faraway feel of the ridges of the truck bed below you.

Or maybe it's wanting to tease him.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

You've kissed before, little playful things: cheek kisses for the camera, neck kisses to either scare you or tickle you, forehead kisses after particularly dangerous scares, hand kisses when he's trying to act all gentlemanly, temple kisses after hugs. You've never kissed him on the lips before, and actually, neither of you have ever explicitly asked for a kiss. They've always been given without question.

"Please?" He asks again, pulling back so that his forehead is off your neck.

Oh, he only wanted a forehead kiss.

You oblige happily, press your lips against his forehead and let out and exaggerated muah!

"No, not there." He pulls away almost entirely, scooting up to be face to face.

You'd laugh, if what he was asking you for wasn't a kiss on the lips. You can't lie, you've thought about it before, when the sun shines a particular way over his face at sunset, or when he's considerably too hot to ignore.

...you're going to have to talk about this tomorrow.

Except tomorrow is not today yet, and so you cup his cheek. You debate it for a moment, a yes or a no, but there's one answer clear in your mind, a yes.

You press your lips against his, and it's more subtle than that forehead kiss, and it feels so much more tangible, in a way. His lips move against yours, a languid thing, a soft thing.

You wonder if he's going to remember this tomorrow, if being as sleepy as this is equivalent to being drunk.

"Thank you." Tyler says as you part, and he settles back where he was, head against your neck. He seems satisfied now, willing to nod off.

"Don't mention it." You say automatically.

Okay you're definitely going to have to talk about this tomorrow. For now, though, you'll just hold him. It's a strange thing to say, but he's always been rather nice to hold, a big man to fill your entire hug, even if he does make your heartbeat spike.

"Goodnight." He says.

"Sweet dreams." You reply.

There's nothing else to think about but the feeling of him in your arms and the warmth of his body as your eyes draw closed.

[dootznbootz]

Odysseus always trusted Penelope. He was ordered to lie to her and it hurt him to do so. Penelope was distrustful of this stranger until she had absolute solid proof.

There are way too many people talking about how "Odysseus lies to Penelope. What a prick!" and it makes me sad/mad as that's not the case at all

The whole "Odysseus usually always has a reason to lie" maybe upcoming essay aside, He was literally commanded by Athena to not tell anyone. And it was with Penelope that he had the hardest time keeping up the act with. Not only because she's smart af and figured him out almost immediately (that essay coming soon too) but because he was trying to keep himself from crying with her.

I think people forget that he is disguised to look like someone else completely. If a random man claimed to be your missing husband, wouldn't you be scared/freaked out?

Anyways, the 3 most important people in his life are Penelope, Telemachus, and Laertes. He lies to all three.

Telemachus: Lied by letting Eumaeus answer him and still under the orders from Athena, did not cry or reveal himself until Athena allowed him to. (I read it as him being in shock. Last time he saw him, Telemachus' hand could only wrap around one finger and now he's as big as him. a bit shocking to say the least)

Laertes: He teared up seeing him but still decided to question and test his father, not by the order from Athena.

Penelope: He was trying so hard to keep from crying, tried to noodle his way out of lying to her, Under Athena's orders. still couldn't help but basically flirt with her.

Also to get this outta the way: No, it wasn't a matter of trust. He is shown to trust her right away. As this happens even before he gets the chance to speak with Penelope.

Staunch Odysseus glowed with joy to hear all this— his wife's trickery luring gifts from her suitors now, enchanting their hearts with suave seductive words but all the while with something else in mind.

(Book 18, Fagles)

If Odysseus does not trust her, why is he so happy to see her "flirt" with the suitors? It's because he KNOWS what she's doing and knows she doesn't actually want them. If he didn't trust her, he would be upset by this.

Now for the "it hurt to lie to her" bit.

Athena's command:

"Tell not a single person in the palace, man or woman, that you are back from your wanderings; but endure all vexations in silence and submit yourself to the indignities that will be put upon you.'

(Book 13, Rieu)

If you are my son—truly of our blood—                                            let no one hear Odysseus is back home. Don’t let Laertes know or the swineherd, or the slaves, or Penelope herself.

(Book 16, Johnston)

And the people he did reveal himself to, he only did so after being given permission by Athena.

Athene spoke to him. 'The time has come,' she said, 'royal son of Laertes, Odysseus of the nimble wits, to let Telemachus into your secret, so that the pair of you may plot the downfall and death of the Suitors and then make your way to the famous city. [...]

(Book 15, Rieu)

He talks to Telemachus before talking to Penelope.

I’ll stay here, so I can stir the servants even more— and your mother. As she laments, she’ll ask for each and every detail.”

(Book 19, Johnston)

Odysseus is already sweating about having to lie to her

The next part would honestly be me just inserting almost ALL the text for this so I'll go into a summary. It's all in Book 19.

Penelope asks him where he's from. And instead of answering, it's a tsunami of compliments. Calling her flawless. Comparing her to a king. etc, etc,

Probably because he couldn't help himself and had to babble about how wonderful she is Who wouldn't? before finally ending with "Please don't ask me where I'm from. It makes me sad."

Penelope, probably overwhelmed by his praise, immediately goes into how "her beauty left with her husband. It did not. And where did you say you were from again?"

"Fine! I'm from Crete..."

And we all know that as soon as she starts crying, after a lovely description of how her tears "melted", he talks about how hard it was for Odysseus to hold in his OWN tears. Lying to her and being unable to comfort her was painful for him!!!

But though Odysseus' heart was wrung by his wife's distress, his eyes, hard as horn or iron, never wavered between their lids, so craftily did he repress his tears.

(Book 19, Rieu)

I love Robert Fitzgerald's translation so as a treat:

[...] so her white cheeks were wetted by these tears shed for her lord--and he close by her side. Imagine how his heart ached for his lady, his wife in tears; and yet he never blinked; his eyes might have been made of horn or iron for all that she could see. He had this trick-- wept, if he willed to, inwardly.

(Book 19, Fitzgerald)

Even with him revealing himself to Euryclea, when she cried out to Penelope, Athena made sure she didn't hear! It's most likely that he wouldn't be able to tell her even if he wanted. Athena was planning something, just as Penelope was.

She spoke, and her eyes glanced over at Penelope, anxious to tell her that her husband had come home. But Penelope could not see her face or notice, for Athena had diverted her attention.

(Book 19, Johnston)

He desperately wanted to be with her again. Literally daydreaming about it!

At those words Dawn rose on her golden throne in a sudden gleam of light. And great Odysseus caught the sound of his wife’s cry and began to daydream—deep in his heart it seemed she stood beside him, knew him, now, at last …

(book 20, Fagles)

Clearly doesn't trust her. /sarcasm

It's PENELOPE that has trouble trusting him. And rightfully so! While she was very certain that was her husband, there was so much going on and of course, she's cautious! He looked like an elderly stranger at first, why is he hiding from her? He somehow took out all those men with only a little help, Athena isn't telling her anything, Helen was kidnapped and she did not want that to possibly happen to her too, etc.

He even understands her cautiousness to be reasonable.

As she spoke, lord Odysseus, who had borne so much, smiled and immediately spoke to Telemachus— his words had wings:   “Telemachus, let your mother test me in these halls. She will soon possess more certain knowledge. Right now I’m filthy, with disgusting clothing on my body. That’s why she rejects me and will not say I am Odysseus. [...]

(Book 23, Johnston)

He even trusted her completely to take care of everything while he was gone before. And he does again when he wakes up and goes to see his father. Telling her about how she too wise to need instruction

Odysseus (and Penelope as well) is well-known for his cunning tricks and how his loyalties are often blurred but one thing that is for sure about him is that he trusts and is loyal to Penelope full-heartedly. He spent every day missing her and their son and wanting to go home to her. The only moment we see his trust in her waver is during the Treebed scene, (which is what she wanted to test).

They are "like-minded". 😭

[reiderwriter]

hii!! can you do 49 and 68 please??? i love ur writing so much btw

prompts: #49 - "I'm so fucking obsessed with you." #68 - "Sit on my face."

A/N: Thank you for much for requesting! Munch Spencer for the win once again! Not to sound like a broken record, but I think I'm physically incapable of writing a smut that I dont somehow become obsessive over 🫡 I hope you like it!!

Warnings: possessive Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, alight come play, penetrative sex, creampie, just some very obsessive writing ngl. 18+ MINORS DNI (that means do not interact for those of you who still don't understand!!)

You weren't sure if you were going to give into him.

You know it'd taken a lot of courage for the man to ask you out, you'd seen first hand that he threw himself head first into relationships, and that meant he was entirely careful about kindling them.

But you'd been so shocked by Spencer Reid's admission that he was romantically interested in you that you'd all but gaped at him the entire time he stood there talking you through it.

After he'd finished, you still didn't know what to say, you just knew that your entire body was aflame with the words he'd dropped in the space between you, and you were vaguely aware that your phone had clattered to the floor, forgotten.

“Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me take you on a date? Please?”

He stood fidgeting in front of you and you almost apologised but your tongue still wouldn't move accurately.

You swallowed, and calmed your heart from the tempest it was running through in your chest to answer him.

“I need some time to think. We work together, it's going to be complicated and I want to make sure I think this through.” He'd politely agreed to that and seen himself out of your apartment, having appeared on your doorstep at near midnight on a work night.

And two weeks later, you were no closer to your answer.

But Spencer seemed to have grown bolder in his advances. He seemed to have taken your entire plight of never realising he was into you to heart, though. Because you sure as hell knew where he stood now.

He used every excuse to put his hands on you.

He came up behind you, putting his hands on your waist as he slid past you, moving you this way and that to arrive at his intended destination.

You'd found that a most annoying male trait in the past, but when Spencer attempted it, you practically leaned into his heat, shivering each time his hands brushed you.

He'd taken to brushing your hair out of your eyes as well, tucking it behind your ear in front of others, and, embarrassingly enough, tying it up for you with one of his own hair elastics.

You'd frozen in the moment as you leaned down to examine some footprints on a case, complaining your hair was in your face as he immediately came up behind you and began gently pulling it up himself.

His fingers moved skillfully, and felt soothing on your scalp as he made sure to get every hair.

You couldn't even say a word of thanks as you sat there wondering what the fuck had just happened, and if anyone else had been witness to it.

Luckily, no one had, and you could only contemplate it alone.

And contemplate it you did. In bed. In the shower. In your sleep. You couldn't stop contemplating it.

You couldn't seem to step over the boundary of professional working relationship to more, though.

So you weren't exactly surprised when he showed back up on your doorstep a month later.

“Spencer. Did something happen?” you breathed a slow sigh as you opened the door to see him standing there, still and tense, as if he was ready to spring an attack at any second.

“I'm obsessed with you.” His voice was low as he took a slow step forward, letting his gaze rest on your lips, and not moving it as he continued his path forward.

“I'm obsessed with you and I've tried to show you that for the last month, and god, please you have to please release me from this if you can't accept it.” He took another step closer and then he was in your apartment and closing the door behind him, blocking out the cold that had your nipples hardening. You assumed it was the cold.

“I think about how you would taste daily, how you would smell, how you would feel wrapped around me, the sounds you would make. I think about any other man getting close to you and I feel angry and sad and my chest physically aches.”

“I think about how I could make you happy, how you'd smile at me every morning,” his hand hesitantly reached up to tuck another stray hair behind your ear as he stuttered through yet another confession.

He was close now, so close your back was pressed against a wall as you resisted your chest meeting his.

“I will leave and never mention this or touch you again if you can't take that on, but if even one part of you thinks this is an experience you want…”

You finally looked into his eyes as your fingertips rushed forward to touch him, darting out to feel his chest and press yourself further into his warmth.

The physical confirmation must have been enough, as in moments his lips were dropping to meet your own in a sweet, but still strong kiss.

He moved achingly slowly as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you further in to his atmosphere, taking each small caress as an indulgence, each run of your lips across his as a blessing coated in lust.

He went so luxuriously slow, that you had to be the one to pull him in closer, to give into the passion threatening to throttle you from inside out.

You tugged him back through your apartment to your bed, making sure to rid him of his coat as you went, lips still exploring each other as you did. His hands held you firmly, wrapping you up in a strong embrace even as you needed him to move faster, to touch, caress, tease, and pleasure you.

You pushed him away when your back hit another wall, only so you could get some air between you as you waited for the next logical step in the direction you were headed.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me.” You always hated that phrase, feeling it was so cheesy and overly sentimental, and yet that was the only way you could describe what you wanted from him.

He looked at you and suddenly, it was as if a flip had switched inside him. His slow, discovering kisses became bruising and hot as he marked his way down your neck, eager to please and desperate to know all of you. Your body was another book Spencer needed to read, more knowledge for him to acquire and never forget, never let go of.

Gently raising you off the ground, he pinned you against the wall, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his notable arousal through his clothes. He began divesting you of yours, the casual t-shirt you'd slipped into after work being easy work for his hands, sweatpants following suit as he memorised every inch of flesh visible to him.

With two hands firmly cradling your ass, he made his way into your bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed, you in hand. Your core rubbed over his cock, and a deep dissatisfaction crept up your body. You were empty and you wanted so badly for him to fill you.

Your need became a great force clawing at his clothes, rocking your hips into him needing as you scrambled button after button, wishing your hands would obey your mind.

He groaned under you, the sound catching you off-guard and flooding your panties even more. He caught your hips and steadied your pace as you worked yourself up to a high without ever having fully touched him.

“Y/N…” He breathed it out like a prayer and a curse combined, pushing your hips down tighter as he tried to put an end to your elicit movements.

“Y/N stop, I want…” His lips finally left your neck as he took a deep breath, opening his eyes to look directly into yours.

“Sit on my face.” It was a demand, one that wouldn't be ignored, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to ignore it.

He laid himself down more comfortably on the bed, pulling you down with him as he stroked small circles into your lower back.

His hands worked down until they reached the waistband of your panties, hooked a finger under them and slowly dragged them off your ass, forcing your hips up to get them further away from his prize.

“Please, Y/N. Please sit on my face.” You moaned at the request again, dropping one final messy kiss to his lips before climbing up and over his head.

You completed the job he started with your underwear, deciding to go the extra mile and discard your bra as well. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and shifted your cunt to better suit his own position, and you braced yourself as he pulled you closer to his devilish tongue.

The first swipe of it was so foreign that you almost bolted upright like a cat dropped into a bathtub. But he held you fast and pulled you right back down as he began his meal. He'd said his prayers, and now he was ready to indulge himself in the taste he'd been craving for the last month.

You braced your hands on the metal headboard of your bed, thankful that you lived alone as you knew there was no way of muffling the noises that were beginning to toll off your tongue.

Head thrown back in pleasure, it was all you could do to not beg him to never stop, to keep up your pleausure for eternity, even as he left himself unsatisfied and rock hard.

Everytike you pulled slightly back from the stimulation, he pulled you even further in, until you were sure he couldn't breath, his mouth and nose so lost in your heat and so intent on your pleasure.

You almost forgot it was his face below you, and started desperately riding him, grinding your clit into anything that would allow for some friction.

Every few minutes he came up for a larger breath, letting his fingers slip inside you as he explored your every reaction.

There was only so much you could take, and apparently tongue and fingers was just that step too far, as you let your body convulse over him.

He let you ride it out, drinking in every drop of juice that escaped you, finally getting that taste he'd become so obsessed with discovering.

When you finally pulled away, his lips and chin were slick with your arousal, and his face was awash with desire.

A tiny push had you on your back as he crawled up between your legs again, taking the time to unclassified his pants and pull them off, discarding them along eith the shirt you'd so painstakingly unbuttoned for him.

“I am going to make love to you, Y/N, and you are going to be mine. You'll always be mine.” His forehead rested against your own as he finally slid inside of you, sheathing his whole cock inside of you as it expanded with his intrusion, trying to find room for him.

He fit like a glove, provided the glove felt this fucking good, so warm and comforting to know he was filling you completely.

His thrusts began and you were almost overwhelmed by the sheer arousal he inspired in each heartbeat.

Wanton moans left your mouth as words failed you, tongue lolling about as you desperately wished he'd slip his head down to let you taste yourself on him.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said, tightening his grip on your hips so much you were sure his nails were going to leave tiny crescents carved into your very bones.

Your second orgasm snuck up on you, hips suddenly jolting up as if they'd a mind of their own, milking his cock as he whimpered at the sudden tightness.

“Y/N, I love you. I love you, I love you I love you so much,” the words were overwhelming as you struggled to speak through the after shocks of your climax, legs still twitching even as he spilled his seed inside of you.

“Now you're mine,” he whispered into your ear as he again found a stray lock of your hair and tugged it right back behind your ear, as if it would help you to see him that much clearer.

Your vision was already so filled with him though, that you were sure it would not matter how far he was or how obstructed your view, he would be the only thing you saw for the rest of your life.

Maybe you were a little obsessed with him as well.

[kairismess]

ushijima wakatoshi: your shy secret admirer.

ushijima wakatoshi had this weird knack for being interested in things, concepts, and people he couldn't exactly understand; and this is where you come in—the object of ushijima's accidental affection, affection he hadn't realized he harbored for you until, after probably three years of tendou pointing out how strange his interest with you was—that was kind of on the level of him loving volleyball... it was like you casted a spell on him to not want anything or anyone else, but to do volleyball and... to see you everyday.

ushijima wakatoshi has a hard time understanding others' feelings, let alone his own. he struggles to show how he really feels about you, so he tries to be subtle and ultimately straight up asks the guys on the team about what it's like falling in love.

ushijima wakatoshi is catapulted into unfamiliar territory; what he understands of 'falling in love' is kind of like that feeling one gets when they receive a perfect spike, or pull off a kickass service ace, or feeling that burning passion that erupts in your chest when you finally realize that what may seem fruitless at first, if you dedicate enough time to it, will yield fresh, ripe fruits in no time—no matter how barren the land is.

ushijima wakatoshi is the barren land in this case; he's the clueless, hopelessly in love, yet unaware of it, loverboy that's so into you. it might be a little ridiculous to say that the super ace ushijima wakatoshi is a loverboy when he's not always that expressive—but if you only knew how much and how often you occupied his mind, you'd be convinced he was as dense as a boulder, because his feelings were so obvious... yet he never realizes it.

ushijima wakatoshi used to be able to only talk about one thing, and it was always volleyball—everything else was the about what the others wanted to talk about, but he never really felt engaged in those conversations... until they were about you. about how cool you were, how interesting of a person you were, and about how... "their eyes always look so full of wonder. it's like... you feel gravitated towards them." "...pretty sure that's just a you thing, wakatoshi." "that can't be right. well, anyway, i'm a bit concerned about the chest pain i've been feeling recently. whenever they come into mind, a sort of... strange feeling rises up my chest and lingers there, i don't know why, i haven't been lifting recently, but—" "wakatoshi, i'm your best friend so i'll just spell it out for you, you're in love, big fella."

ushijima wakatoshi feels the feeling surge up and rises to his cheeks. for the first time in ever... the shiratorizawa boys' volleyball team witnesses ushijima wakatoshi, their super ace, all flushed and embarrassed, red in the cheeks, because of how much he loved you and being confronted with the fact that he did, indeed, love you.

ushijima wakatoshi wanted to do something about these feelings, he didn't want to be burdened with eternal chest pain and a heat in his face that felt feverish, but in a good way, whenever he looked at you, heard you speak, or thought about or even dreamed about you. he wanted to make the first move... no matter how impossible that seemed for him to do.

ushijima wakatoshi no blocks could ever stop ushijima wakatoshi from spiking, nobody could ever stop this man when he was on a roll... except in terms of love, only you could stop ushijima from thinking straight and sending him in into tunnel vision, thinking about and focusing only on you.

ushijima wakatoshi blushes at the notion tendou encouraged him to go through with, clutching the bouquet he arranged on his own with flowers fresh from his family's garden, and with a lump in his throat he could never swallow down. "hey," he says in a low, rumbling voice. the thought of him being scary or intimidating never entered his head—all that he could think of was how adorably tinier and sweeter you seemed in comparison to him; making him love you all the more. he hands you the bouquet, maintaining eye contact with you as the feverish flush came back. "...you're beautiful." he mumbles, the red in his cheeks becoming more and more evident the longer he spent around you. he was whipped for you, he was smitten with you—ushijima wakatoshi wanted to let you know... "...and i love you."

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Imagine pretty boy Steve trapped in a mirror for his vanity.

Except he grows as a person so much that his sole purpose becomes boosting self-esteem of everyone looking into the mirror (unless they're being an asshole in which case, bye any semblance of personal worth).

"Looking great, Dustin, go and get them! Oh wait, move your tie slightly to the left, that's it, good job buddy, go go go!"

"Seriously Robin, there's no way your lady isn't all over you the moment you step in that restaurant. Did you wear smudge-proof lipstick? Time to test it."

"No, Nance, it's not weird to ask your ex-boyfriend if you look presentable, I mean, who else is better qualified? Good choice of dress for the interview, you're going to ace it."

"El, it doesn't matter how long your hair is. Yeah, it was so pretty, but it will grow back. But you know what else? You have gorgeous eyes, a wonderful smile and the way you say "mouth-breather" is everything. As long as you have that smile you'll be the prettiest girl around, so don't you dare worry about it."

"Mike, stop looking like someone stepped in your birthday cake, you're a handsome young man and Will is going to love the new haircut. If I'm wrong, feel free to come back and spread mustard all over my frame, but I've yet to be wrong. Yeah, you're a bit of an asshole too, now go and get your boy!"

"Joyce, you're as beautiful as always, but from what I know about Hopper, he'd think you're the most beautiful person alive if you were wearing a potato sack. But this dress is perfect and you look so happy. I wish you all the best on your date!"

"Yeah Jason, looks aren't the issue here...nothing I can do to help you all the ugly stuff on the inside buddy. Sure, smash the mirror if you want - good luck by the way, it's fucking cursed for a reason - but that won't make the truth hurt less, huh?"

And then Eddie accidentally steps in front of him and Steve has never seen anyone so unaware of his own beauty. And Eddie seems to be the only one apart from Robin who realizes how lonely he sometimes gets so he often takes Steve with him no matter where he goes (the big van is handy) and Steve makes sure to shower him with compliments, gradually finding exactly the right doses and right words to make Eddie understand how special he is, how radiant his smile looks, how he's so animated when he talks about things he loves-

And on the day when Eddie looks into the mirror and finally sees himself just as Steve sees him, the mirror cracks and Steve falls out, disoriented and kind of terrified, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-?!

But Eddie just smiles at him and hugs him, the first human touch in such a long time it makes Steve tear up. "Finally!" exclaims Eddie and pulls him even closer. "No shame at all Stevie, but that frame was fucking heavy!"

[emphistic]

Can't Relate to Desperation

A/N: requested by anon — i apologize for how long this took; this was fun to write

— just a heads-up: this is preschool!Sukuna

“—I was wondering if you could help me with a little favor.”

“Sure, shoot.” Your friend was surprised to see Sukuna — out of all people — approach them, but they didn't show it.

“Y/N’s birthday is pretty soon, and I don’t have any ideas on what to get her.” Sukuna had known you for a long while. But that didn’t mean he knew what you wanted for a birthday present. I mean, he obviously knows your likes and dislikes. Your hobbies and pastimes. Your favorite colors, foods, drinks, movies, even. But none of those gave him an idea for a meaningful birthday present.

“Ohh, yeah. I'm getting her a matching pajama set! Because we’re going to have a sleepover after her party.”

Sukuna mentally raised a brow at that, he thought you guys were already planning on having a sleepover. And he most definitely did not remember inviting anyone else to the sleepover.

“I didn't ask.” Sukuna wanted to get this questionnaire over with already, and go back to playing with you on the swings or something like that.

“Hey! That’s not nice. I’ll tell the teacher.”

“Can you help me or not?”

“No, because you’re a meanie. And meanies don’t deserve my help.” Your friend crossed her arms and turned away from Sukuna, emitting a little ‘hmph’ sound.

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can you just help me?” He couldn't believe he just apologized to someone other than you.

“Fine,” your friend huffed out, turning back around.

All the while, you watched this exchange happen from afar. Earlier, you were back in the classroom, digging through your backpack to find the necklace you had purchased with your early birthday money from your parents. You had planned to give it to Sukuna, but it currently looked like he had acquired another friend.

And, what made it even more disappointing was the fact you spent at least ten minutes looking for him. You waited outside the restrooms, searched the playground, dug through the sandpit — in case he got buried, and even checked the cubbies. Then you took a lap outside, and found him talking to another girl, who happened to be your [second] best friend — (Sukuna being the first).

The smile plastered across your face immediately dropped, and so did the necklace in your hands.

It’s not like Sukuna wasn’t allowed to have other friends, it’s the fact that he doesn't — by choice, obviously — except for you. And it's been that way, ever since you complimented his hair, saying, “I love the pink! It is my favorite color,” which was contrary to many of your other classmates. Most kids actually made fun of him for it, albeit Sukuna would always glare in their direction and the laughter and teasing would stop in an instant.

You couldn't believe your eyes. He usually ignored people who tried to talk to him and pushed aside those who wanted to make friends. So why was he suddenly talking to your friend? Was he trying to replace you? Did he get bored of you? Why were they talking in such a secluded area behind the garbage cans? Was he trying to hide all of this from you?

You wiped your soon watering eyes with your sleeve, grabbed the necklace off the ground, and quickly ran in the opposite direction.

Coincidentally, as soon as Sukuna got all the information he needed from your friend, he saw your figure turning around. Why were you here? He thought.

“Thanks.” Sukuna ran away from your friend, and as soon as he caught up to you, he said, “Hey, where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” You didn't turn around to face him, continuing to run away.

Sukuna came to a halt, staring at your back. What's your problem? Sukuna decided it was probably nothing, and that you just wanted some alone time, so he left you to your alone time and resorted to playing in the sandpit by himself. But it didn't feel the same as when you played with him. The sand was too warm, the sandcastle was off-center with the hills made of sand, the birds’ singing was too loud. Nothing was right.

You had to admit, avoiding Sukuna was like avoiding the sun. You could hide out under roofs and loiter inside the restrooms, but you had to get out eventually. And eventually you did; recess had ended and you had to get back to the classroom to continue your lessons. And who did you sit next to? Take a wild guess.

When you sat down in your seat, you scooted your chair as far as possible away from the boy beside you — who stayed still, utterly confused at your actions, and wondering why the hell you were being this way.

Then, your class was assigned a group project. Sukuna turned to you, expecting the two of you to pair up, but to his surprise, you asked another classmate to pair up instead.

Okay, he thought. Maybe you just want to get social with other people; that's fine. That's normal.

What wasn’t normal was the fact that you continued to blatantly ignore the pink-haired boy even at lunchtime.

Sukuna asked you his usual question, “Do you want to share my juicebox?” And, thank Heavens, you finally looked him in the eye. But then you flatly said, “No,” before turning around and starting to eat your own lunch.

Sukuna frowned. “What’s your deal today? Are you allergic to apple juice now or something?”

“No.” Going back to what you did earlier, you didn't face him this time, choosing to eat your sandwich in peace.

Usually, you gave him the crust of your sandwiches to eat, because you didn’t like how they tasted, and he did, but you decided against that today. Which was a shame, Sukuna was looking forward to eating your sandwich’s crust.

“Geez, okay. Be that way, I guess.” Sukuna stabbed the straw into his juicebox and drank. But like the sandpit, it just wasn't the same.

This continued all day. And I mean all day.

Sukuna was starting to get real upset. This frustrated him deeply. He swore that if you kept on avoiding him and running away every single time he tried to approach you, he was going to end up with white hairs at the age of four.

Did you not want to be his friend anymore? Did you finally grow to dislike his pink hair that you once loved so much? He hoped the answers to those questions were a definite ‘no’.

He hoped the answer to those questions was a definite ‘no’.

Finally defeated and having given up on his searching for you all over school, he walked to the playground, hoping that swinging would clear his head. And God, he was so thankful he did just that. Because upon entering the play area, he found you, already sitting on the swings and swinging sadly, by yourself. You were swinging sadly on the swings, yes, indeed you were.

It was quite an amusing sight, to anyone who didn’t know the context. But Sukuna did, to an extent, at least. He knew you were upset, and that the likely cause was him. It was always him. Always. Good or bad, happy or sad, he was always the cause, for you. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?

Your head was low, focused on staring at the ground beneath you as you swung back and forth. Sukuna thought you looked cute like that — your braids dangling in front of your face, as you basked in the sun’s rays.

But then Sukuna remembered the task at hand, and made sure to approach you with caution and much needed confidence [in himself].

When he got closer to you — only a few feet apart — he quickly realized why your head was so low when you raised it to look at him, tears in your doe, yet angelically pure eyes.

He cleared his throat. “Y/N. What’s . . . wrong? What’s upsetting you? . . .Is it me?” He whispered the last part, to the point it was barely audible; but you heard him. You always did.

“Why don’t you go and talk to your other new friend, huh?” You spat out, stifling a hiccup as it came.

“Wait—what?” Sukuna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb. I know what you did. I know what you’re doing. You can replace me with whoever you want, I don’t care, not anymore. Now go away so I can play all by my lonesome.

“Y/N, I’m not replacing you. I know you’re a dummy sometimes but. . . Where’d you even get such a ridiculous idea?”

“Oh, so I’m the dummy?” you retaliated.

Then it hit him, you were referring to earlier this morning, when he was talking to your friend for advice on what to get you as a birthday present.

“I—you’ve got it all wrong, Y/N. All wrong. I wasn’t, I’m not, and I would never ever replace you. So get that stupid idea out of your head already. I was just asking her for help to . . . get you . . . something — for your . . . birthday, that’s coming up soon.” He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but if it would make you feel any better, he couldn’t care less about keeping a silly little secret.

“Oh, Sukunaaa! You could’ve just asked me!” You jumped off the swings, swiftly wiping your teary eyes dry, and tackled Sukuna into a hug. The two of you fell into a giggling mess of tangled limbs on the ground.

And to your surprise, the following week, Sukuna gifted you a necklace at your birthday party. It was a cheap, dainty necklace, that much was obvious. But opening the heart charm revealed a poorly taken, bad quality, photo of you and Sukuna both. You two were smiling like idiots, embraced in a hug, and you recognized the picture to date back to when you visited Sukuna at one of his basketball games. The first game of his that you went to, actually.

The cherry on top was the fact that the necklace he got you was the same necklace you were planning on giving him before you saw him talking to your friend last week.

But, ah, it was whatever. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside

[yan-lorkai]

Hi!! I loved your hcs of the Octotrio with a yuu that seems to only have a talent in art. I related to it a lot because sometimes I feel like I’m not good at anything else other than drawing.

I was wondering if you could do the same prompt with Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Leona, Malleus & the Scarabia boys please? If that’s too many you can just do Leona, Malleus, & Scarabia. Thank you 😊

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I guess everyone has one of those episodes, huh? I've been writing for more than 8 years now and sometimes I get hit by the "aa but I'm only good at writing, I should totally try something" and then I try something new and hate it bcs I really love to write and nothing can compare lmao. Anyway, I hope you like this darling, I did all the characters requested too btw ~

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ace would be playful and encouraging, but his competitive nature would lead him to manipulate situations to keep you close. He’d play little tricks to make sure you stay dependent on him, offering "helpful" critiques that subtly undermine your confidence in anything but your art. His lighthearted facade would hide a deeper need to be the center of your attention, he is your muse, the one you use to practice, the who inspires you, making sure that you see him as the only one who truly understands and supports you, all while ensuring you don't realize how he’s subtly sabotaging any other talents you might want to try to explore, for he fears you will not want to spend more time with him anymore if that was the case.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Cater would use his social media prowess to make you art the talk of the school, ensuring your work — and by extension, his support — is always in the spotlight. However, his validation would come with a price, as he subtly isolates you from others, creating an environment where you feel your art is only appreciated by him and his curated audience. Cater’s charming persona would hide his darker intentions, as he manipulates your into believing that your worth is tied to the art you create under his influence, all while keeping you emotionally dependent on his constant praise. You're already good at other things, so surely you don't need to have another hobby, right?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Deuce, unlike Ace, would be fiercely protective of your artistic talent. He’d encourage your art with an almost desperate intensity, pushing you to try different brushes and pens, different scenarios and things, but he'd also pressure you to stay focused on what your good at, ensuring you don’t waste time on things you never tried before. His possessiveness would manifest in his need to be your protector, to the point where he'd become intimidating towards anyone who tries to steer you away from your art, that does not apply to yourself, while he think your drawings / paintings are very beautiful, he would not force you to make it more if you're having an episode where you doubt your skills and think you are good only on the art field. If you want to explore new things, Deuce will be by your side the entire time.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Riddle would be intensely supportive yet controlling, pushing you to perfect your craft while ensuring you don't stray too far from his strict rules, even more if you are already his lover. His obsession with your success would become borderline suffocating, as he constantly monitors your progress and enforces discipline to keep you on the right path, nurturing your already beautiful talent. To Riddle, your art is flawless, it's personal and have a touch of you in every drawing, be it digital or traditional. When you come to tell him about your doubts, about how you're only good at art, Riddle promptly sooth you with gentle words, albeit he is a little awkward while talking. He offer to teach you about whatever you want to learn but be prepared because he is somewhat a strict teacher.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Leona would admire your dedication to your art, and he would ask questions about it too, learning as much as your interest as possible. However, his possessiveness would be almost primal, keeping you close under the guise of protection, ensuring you don’t waste time on anything — or anyone — else. Leona would be dismissive of your attempts to explore other talents, reinforcing that your art is the only thing that matters. His control would be subtle yet overpowering, as he ensures your world revolves around him and your art, leaving you with little room for anything else.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus would shower you with endless admiration, captivated by your artistic talent, even more if you were influenced by an artistic movement. He'll notice all the little details, the subtle way the traces converge, how the color scheme is perfect, the way the shadows and the light reflect. He is your number 1 fan, so supportive of you. However, his intense fascination would drag you into his lonely world, where your art becomes your only outlet and he is your audience - though he has your drawings framed and hung on the walls of the castles, so everyone can look at it and admire. Malleus may not understand your struggles and why would you want to pursue another hobby, but he can arrange anything you may want to try at least once, from singing and dancing to sewing and knitting, even the art of potion making, archery or fencing. He just know you're going to find something you like as much as your art, and if you are happy so is he.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jamil would secretly nurture your talent, subtly guiding your creativity while undermining any attempts you make to excel elsewhere, he sees your art as something free and with many meanings - it makes him relaxed in some sort of way and Jamil wants to be a little greedy here, he wants you to continue creating more pieces, always keeping you under his watchful eye as you started drawing / painting. There's just something so intimate, so calming about it he can't wrap his head around. He loves watching you creating your art, feeling is guard lowering just a little. If you ever approach him with your doubts, Jamil take you to the kitchen so he can teach you a few things about cooking. It's a different kind of art but when all is said and done, it's just as good as when you're creating and make you feeling accomplished.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Kalim would be so overwhelmingly supportive and enthusiastic about it, showering you with gifts and opportunities to nurture your artistic talent, buying everything you may need to create your art, a new software? Sure, no problem, he brought the most expensive one too. A few new pencils and pens? Right away. You need more frames and paints? It will be here in a couple of hours. However, his naivety mixed with possessiveness would lead to unintentional control over your life, as he tries to keep you happy and close by his side. Kalim’s well-meaning gestures would create a gilded cage, where your art flourishes but your freedom is slowly stripped away. He would be oblivious to the suffocating effect of his love, believing that as long as you're happy creating art with him, nothing else matters, leaving you feeling trapped and not knowing how to communicate with him. He have done so much for you already!

[akirathedramaqueen]

The bias is not always conscious

And that's the case with Stolas. That's it, that's basically the post, so you can count it as your tl;dr, but let me elaborate. :)

(A little gratitude note! Sorry @tealvenetianmask, I failed being concise here, but I thank you for encouraging me to put it all together :3 I also thank you for our conversations about Stolas and about museums in particular which heavily contributed to it)

I think there's some misunderstanding when people get offended by the suggestion that Stolas acts classist/racist. It seems that people assume we’re implying he is malicious and intentional with it, but the actual problem is that he doesn't think.

S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 1:29

The problematic behavior we're discussing is reflexive and internalized. Stolas was raised in an environment where the lower demon class is looked down upon, and while he believes he expresses nothing but deep respect for Blitzø and treats him as an equal…

Goodnight, Blitzø. S1EP7, Ozzie's, 14:50

And while you can see from this bow that this intention is sincere, which is both wonderful and fascinating—he preserved this profound gesture ever since he was a kid, despite being actively discouraged from doing so!...

[Stolas]: I'm Stolas! It's nice... Ouch! [Paimon]: Don't bow to that one! He bows to us! Idiot! S2EP1, The Circus, 7:40

He was still raised in privilege and influenced by the narratives around him. For him, it's acceptable because that's what he was taught is fine. It's part of his everyday speech, and he never actually asks Blitzø, or anyone else, how they feel about the literally belittling nicknames (like literally—do you notice how often he uses the word "little" when referring to imps?).

I mean... there's a lot, okay? I'm just going to pull out some examples off the top of my head. All of them are from Season 1, and I'll explain why later.

I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 5:15

Ugh, that's better... Where's Blitzy? He's my knight in shining armor, not you, littler ones! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 13:22

And it [grimoire] isn't supposed to be lent out to itty-bitty imps like yourself. S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 0:30

Greetings, tiny Wrath Ring imps! S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 8:22

[Stolas, in the background]: Who dares threaten my little impish plaything? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 18:20

How the fuck did you get caught by humans? Are you little creatures not being careful up here? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 19:38

He also takes pride in being part of Ars Goetia. That pride seeps into his mind whether he wants it to or not. He lives in a huge palace, never worries about money, can arrange a seat in a club that’s always booked out, and gets admitted to a hospital immediately, while hellhounds wait five years for a Hellbies shot.

Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 4:39

Most of these examples come from Season 1 because, after the disastrous Ozzie’s date, Stolas begins to unconsciously cut back on this language. He seems to sense that something is wrong, though he doesn’t fully understand why. However, he is acutely aware of the problems with the transaction and the unfair dynamics it creates, and he is serious about putting Blitzø on equal ground by providing him with the means to run his business independently of Stolas.

And still, he maintains full control over the conversation during the Full Moon meeting, immediately dismisses Blitzø after one mistake, and throws him out. He continues to impose his narrative on Blitzø and…

I don't look down on you! How many times do I— When have I ever?! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 2:45

When have you ever indeed, Stolas? You literally look down on Blitzø saying that. This moment illustrates the problem clearly. He isn’t lying when he says he doesn’t look down on Blitzø because he genuinely believes he doesn’t.

Despite all said, Stolas is making a tremendous effort and is progressing, and he is far ahead of Stella, who is openly classist/racist and very conscious of her biases. So I believe—no, I know—he will get there one day. But not today.

This is something I take quite seriously, and I think people need to understand how dangerous this subtlety can be, as it happens all the time in real life too.

How often do you ask yourself why medical research groups are predominantly represented by white, cis, upper-middle-class males, and how this affects the efficiency of treatments suggested in these studies for everyone else—women, people of color, non-binary folks, and those who struggle financially?

How often do you visit museums and see art created by wealthy aristocrats who defined what constitutes 'fine art,' while 'folk art'—often created by marginalized communities—is overlooked and lost to time?

I could elaborate further on how deep and cruel this bias is, but I’ll stop here. I just ask you to consider why you might get offended when someone points out Stolas's subtle bigotry and why you might downplay it compared to the loud, aggressive Blitzø, whose anger and avoidant issues are obvious.

Just sit with it.