#is this the lack of specs talking?

[link-sans-specs]

Such... ly dumb. 🎶

This is dumb-hard. This is so hard when you're dumb.

How hard could it be to get here? I'm here and everything's hard for me.

Rhett & Link

We Spent a Day in 1984

[sandpaperoctopi]

aro ace cuties

[bisexualbrainrots]

Yes, they meet in the middle to try and get back together. But it's angsty.

We see Buck on the outside of Tommy's place, he takes one deep breath, fidgets with his fingers, and eventually he's ready to knock.

He knocks and takes one step back to wait, looking hopeful.

Then we're shown the loft, one second of silence before the camera pans to the door and we hear knocks coming from the outside.

They're both taking the step, they're both chasing.

And they miss it.

[honestlyvan]

Looking at this tweet:

and thinking about how I actually did this to Prime Wheeljack on my second viewing, deciding that he has to deal with fuckoff arm and wrist pain like I do

except he fucking did it to himself, because of course he did -- all of his integrated weaponry is custom, with his engineering background meant to primarily support hand tools, his initial loadout was configured for near-recoilless weaponry like Bumblebee and Smokescreen, but running around doing commando blackops shit (in his mind) necessitated larger firepower and there were no medics around to finger-wag him out of doing whatever upgrades he wanted so now all of his weaponry is a grade or two stronger than his structural components should on paper be able to handle.

As a result his whole upper body has a ton of microfractures from magnetic shear and recoil -- nothing that his self-repair can't handle, but just like with humans, supportive member damage doesn't heal back up to be stronger without very specific kind of physical therapy to accompany it. As a result Wheeljack has actually gained mass and lost a lot of the flexibility and aerodynamic and balance qualities of racer frames, and is maintaining his ability to do trick driving largely through just. Doing it, lmao, and not thinking about his worsening health.

[mrfoox]

If I ever get to feel desired mutually I may perish ♥

[kabr0ztrousers]

Bull hybrid cowboy x chubby fem reader. He runs a little ranch all by himself no one for miles and her car just so happens to break down near his road. He offers her a ride into town but ends up kidnapping her. Would love it if he ties her up and shows her all the reasons why she should stay with him.

Hmm... Now do I write another hucow scene or don't I? Only kidding, you all know where this is going.

Kabr0z Writes Episode 34: Free Range

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: kidnap; dubcon; noncon; lactation; impregnation;

A/N: Thanks again for the steady stream of requests, you lot! Remember if you want to see something, want me to revisit a kink or scenario I've done before, or have a totally new idea, let me know and it'll probably happen!

######################################

You loved that little shitbox of a car, mid 2000's spec, old enough to drink and still going strong. Up until about 5 miles back. You were on a tiny country road in the middle of the night, cruising at 60, when you heard an almighty bang followed by a jangling noise. Your revs went through the roof for a moment before you started to coast. By the time you stopped and inspected the damage you'd already figured out what happened. The jaunty angle of the gearstick and the lack of any resistance on it meant your gears were probably strewn across several hundred metres of road. At least your engine still worked so you had light, heat, and BBC 2.

You didn't, however have any phone signal.

So you sat in the layby in your car, idling the engine to keep the battery running and listening to the 80s. Sleeping in a running car seems like something that's probably illegal, but you figured if the police found you, they could probably give you a tow to go with the fine. Hopefully you'd make it to morning and then walk however far the nearest town is to call your insurance.

A horn behind you shocked you out of your thoughts. You looked around as a rugged 4x4 pulled level with you. A window rolled down and the driver motioned for you to do the same.

He was a bull hybrid, horns wreathing his head, a thick gold ring adorning his nose. "Need a tow?"

"Yeah, I think my gearbox is fucked" you smiled at him

"That'll do it for you, I can get you to town if you want, climb in"

You got out of your car and into his, grateful for the save. He hooked a rope from his car to yours and pulled away, your stricken vehicle in tow.

You didn't think anything of the route he took, country lanes are far too narrow to turn around in, especially in a big vehicle like this one, but you'd been travelling for a while. It's not like he wasn't charming, softly spoken with just a hint of an accent, apparently he had a herd of dairy cattle that he pastured around the area, and you were being regaled about the trade. The radio in the car gently playing some tiny local station or other, predominantly focusing on spinning old records and talking about the weather.

Suspicion set in when you turned off the road, he was taking you up a gravel track in the pitch-dark. He seemed to know the area pretty well but you figured that to get to civilization, you should probably be following the asphalt rather than abandoning it.

He pulled up at a house and turned off the engine, shoving the keys into his pocket "Come on, let's get inside"

You got out and bolted away from the house. You're not stupid enough to follow him in, you'd only just met!

He was faster than you. You'd barely made it twenty yards when you were tackled to the ground. The bull huffed as he tied your ankles together and hefted you over his shoulder. You hit and struggled against him, but he only chuckled at your assault. "Spirited, aren't you?" He opened his door and carried you over the threshold "You'll do fine here"

He put you down onto a plush sofa and sat in a chair opposite to you. Minutes passed in silence, you sullenly staring at him, him eyeing you up like a cut of meat.

"What will you do with me?" You spat at him

"Honestly, I'm not sure. You seemed like a soft townie when I picked you up. I'd thought maybe let you call for a tow, give you a coffee, and maybe a roll in the hay." He was still staring at you

"But?" You felt like there was a but coming

"But, you're not badly built, and you're not such a pushover. Now I'm deciding if I want a wife or not"

You recoiled at his comment "If you think I'm marrying you, you can fuck off!"

He shrugged and got up "Plan B then. With hips and tits like those you'll be a good fit"

He lifted you into a seated position and tore off your top, baring your chest and the rolls of your tummy. He grabbed one of your tits and hefted it "Natural, very good"

If looks could kill, you would've atomised him. As it was he merely met your gaze as he roughly inspected you.

"I was right, you'll do excellently" He picked you up again and swung you over his shoulder before carrying you outside. He crossed a field, not caring about your yelling and screaming for help. He knew nobody was around for miles, even if someone heard you they wouldn't be able to help you. He pushed open a barn door and carried you in, putting you down on a pile of straw "I'll see you tomorrow"

He left you there. The ropes were tied tightly around your ankles. You struggled against them until your fingers went numb to no avail. The other occupants of the barn stirred with your struggling. Your eyes were adjusting to the gloom, you could just about make them out.

They were other women. Some cow hybrids, some not. All of them plump, many pregnant. They looked at you with big doe eyes, curiosity on their faces as they regarded you.

The first one put her arms around you in a hug, then another and another until you were smothered in a dozen round women, their full breasts pressing against you as they started to doze off on you. Stuck there in the centre of the cuddle pile, you couldn't help your eyelids getting heavy, your head cushioned against a plush belly as sleep claimed you too.

You woke with the dawn. The other women mooing eagerly and dispersing around the barn. The bull man from last night opened the door and stepped in. He looked over at you before settling to work. One by one he attached milking cups to the other women, who each settled down contentedly as the machines pumped them, the milk being drawn into tanks at one end of the barn.

Finally he got to you.

"Enjoy your night?"

You spat at him. He laughed.

"Damn, I wish you'd reconsider being my wife. As it is, I can still put a calf in you." He lifted you and carried you to a fence, tying your arms to it before cutting your ankles free.

Your tits swung below you as he pulled your hips up and hiked your skirt up. He tore a hole in your tights, revealing your pussy. You screamed as he started to lick you, his thick tongue penetrating you already as he fingered your clit. You felt your skin flush as your body responded to him, getting wet and ready for him. His licking and stroking was drawing you in, until you quivered with a tearful orgasm.

You felt him straighten up behind you. He lay his cock on your back and you shivered with the length of it before he pulled back and started to ease the tip in, crooning as he went "You're doing great, girl, just a little more, a little more"

The sound of his voice was making you wetter than his tongue did. You whimpered from the fullness from his cock pushing slowly into you, stretching you out. Your hips were pushing back against him, sending waves of motion up your body. He started to push harder, move faster. Your whimpers turned to blissful sobs and whines as you sped towards your next orgasm, the length and girth of him getting you off all by itself. When he squeezed your hips it was too much. Your body tried to push back, but it didn't need to. He could feel your impending orgasm and hilted himself in you, tiny thrusts slapping his balls against your clit and driving you over the edge. He started to throb and pulse in you as your cunt clenched around him. His thrusts were fast and deep, he was close and wasn't going to cum anywhere but inside you. His pounding on your cervix was getting to you, as was his gripping your waist and your hips, and the jolting swaying of your tits. He pushed a hand between your legs and circled his fingers over your clit. You came again. This time he joined in. Your moans and grunts mingled as the other women watched you, still mooing in euphoria from being attached to the pumps.

He stayed inside you, his cock still giving occasional pumps of cum. His huge hands tracing patterns on your back and rubbing your aching muscles. Then he pulled out, and you heard a spatter of his cum fall out of you and onto the straw below. He cut your arms free and helped you off the railings, laying you on the straw.

"I treat my ladies well, you'll see"

A month has passed since you joined the herd. You spend your mornings hooked up to the milking machines, your afternoons lounging in the fields munching clover and enjoying the company of your new friends, then in the evenings Aaron, as you leaned his name, would often visit you and put another load in you. You're already late on your period, you just haven't told him yet.

Yeah, you're giving up some freedoms, and you're pretty sure you're getting dumber

But it sure beats your old job

###################################

Postscript: A bit of an experiment in trying to split the difference between "awful human farm" and not being overly horrible to the POV character. Hopefully it hits the mark nicely. Who knows, I may do a continuation or a "what if" where it goes into fluffy marital sex between Aaron and Fem!Reader...

At any rate, this is your periodic reminder that my ask box and DMs are always open, and to not hold back on your requests! I'm not in the habit of airing anyone's dirty laundry so if you do cross some unforeseen line the worst you'll get is a no

[minalover]

alright friends and enemies, gather round, it's time to talk.

first of all, looks like we're a little fuzzy on the term gaslighting. so, to refresh your memory:

Gaslighting is a form of manipulation that often occurs in abusive relationships. It is a covert type of emotional abuse where the bully or abuser misleads the target, creating a false narrative and making them question their judgments and reality.

good. now that that's out of the way.

i got triggered by a post today, floating around the side of the fandom that doesn't cross my dash that often, that i didn't expect to hit that hard. see, that's the thing about triggers. most of the time, they're not big, scary, overall concepts. most of the time, they're very small. very specific. words, actions, tones. and i didn't expect this one to hit me. but it did. so hard that i've been trying not to cry for the past hour or so and inspired me to write this down. because it's unbelievably clear, due to the behavior over the last few days, that we need to talk.

eddie's behavior in the kitchen fight in 8x17 was not abusive. point blank. and calling it so is disingenuous. this was a painful and very realistic fight between two people who love and support each other and, due to outrageous circumstances, cannot fight clean. eddie cuts buck to the quick. buck does the same to eddie. the hand on the shoulder and pointer finger is the same behavior we've seen from eddie multiple times, ranging from goofy (bachelor party) to vulnerable (post-tsunami) to supportive (when buck comes out to eddie). this one was done in rage and grief. of course it doesn't look the same. of course it feels different. (from a cinematographical perspective, if they had wanted it to read as abusive, they would have shown it to us. but they didn't. so make your own conclusions if you're able.)

eddie does not have a history of violent or abusive behavior. if you're about to lean on the he almost killed a guy in fight club, yeah. he did. are you also talking about lena bosko, who got him into the first club, in the same way? do you want to talk about how eddie was using it as the world's worst coping mechanism to avoid grief? or how he immediately worked to save the man's life, call for help, and quit? no? okay. you know how else i know he doesn't have a history of violent behavior? because no one is afraid of him. not his son, not his aunt, not his parents, not his coworkers, not his girlfriends, not his wife. so go ahead and wrap that up.

eddie bringing chris and pepa home wasn't love bombing. again, let's go through definitions - [l]ove bombing is an attempt to influence another person with over-the-top displays of attention and affection. so just right off the bat, not the same. what eddie did was apologize to buck in the way he can hear it. we've been talking about love languages and, even though they come from a heteronormative and religious place, they're still helpful in this conversation here. eddie is always supporting buck with words and buck is always supporting eddie with actions. in this moment? eddie realizes that what buck's been struggling with is that lack of family (shown to the audience as the lack of family meals compared with pre-bobby's death). so to apologize and show his love, he brings family together to share a meal. just because it didn't sound like an apology to you doesn't mean it didn't sound like one to buck.

just because it isn't racist to you doesn't mean it doesn't come from racism. as we walk through white fragility 101 together, there is a difference between hey you're racist and hey that thing you said comes from a racist and problematic place can we break it down. holding a character of color (chimney and, in this case, eddie) to different standards than white characters (bobby and buck) is derived from racist ideology whether you intend for it to be or not. so take a step back and look at why you seem to be reacting in this specific way to this specific behavior by this specific character. i can't ask you to unravel every implicit bias you've ever been taught, but i can ask you to take a look at your actions if a bunch of people are pointing it out.

there is gaslighting happening here, but not how you think. the way some folks in this fandom have been posting and reacting to the buddie 8x17 kitchen scene have truly made me second guess everything i'd been seeing. the constant, vitriolic reaction to something i didn't find that upsetting made me go back and watch again and again. did i miss something, am i not able to see it, what's going on? and, here we go kids--what's happening here is gaslighting.

it is a covert type

of emotional abuse

where the bully or abuser misleads the target

creating a false narrative

making them question their judgments and reality.

finally, let's look at what you're specifically not saying. by saying that eddie is abusive, that it looked like he was going to come after buck with a knife, that buddies are sick for romanticizing the behavior (which i haven't seen but okay we'll go with it for now), you're implying that the people who support (or don't actively stand against) eddie's behavior in this episode are no better than abusers themselves. that's your underlying message. by spinning his non-abusive behavior as abuse, taking that narrative for truth, and putting everyone who doesn't agree with you on the opposite side of that argument, you're calling us abusers. and i, frankly, take issue with that.

i need you to understand the difference between uncomfortable and unsafe. i need you to understand that this was not inherently romantic, but emotionally vulnerable. and i need you to understand that clinging to your morally superior high horse will not save you in the real world.

if you want to come yell at me, by all means. anon is off, so you gotta do it with your whole chest. i'd much rather talk about it. i'm here to do white fragility 101 if you need it.

[simbistardis]

Being black and Aromantic is an experience. When I came out through social media my family felt the need to drill me with questions about my past romantic relationships and why now all a sudden, I’d chosen to go by Aro. I remember talks of bandwagons, even though I can count the number of aro-spec black people I’ve met on one hand with like three fingers. In church when my oldest sister led the prayer, she alluded to how younger kids had so many demons they had to fight, and I instantly knew what she meant. Subsequently, my being Aro had become a thing to pray off and use as a talking point in Sunday school rather than being discussed on a deeper and serious level with just myself. But when we did speak about it the conversations felt like an interrogation. It always felt like black culture couldn’t align much with Aromanticism, especially cause growing up I was taught that marriage was the end goal and that’s what I should want but I don’t think marriage was in my plans. I would dream of having dogs and living alone in a big house instead of having a romantic partner. For me being Aro and black is an interesting intersection because romance is very much portrayed in black narratives in both good and bad ways, but it’s never talked about in the capacity to which I experience alloromanticism. Alloromanticism is never ‘the decline of romantic attraction’ or ‘the strong romantic attraction to people only when I know them just as well as I know myself’. With my demiromantic identity people don’t understand the difference it has from regular attraction . My attraction is fluid so in the case of when I feel more Demi I’m glued to one person and one person only for a really long time. Attraction like that is what I wish was shown on TV and not just packaged as someone who's got an obsession and needs to get over someone. They could be Demiromantic. A thing I love about being Aro-spec is how comfortable it feels. Like I don’t feel this overwhelming need to perform. If my partner knows I’m on the Aro-spec they know it’s best not to try to force romantic gestures or even be offended by my lack of attraction at times. ... How come black women just can’t experience attraction a bit differently from how everyone says we should. So many black and brown men and women probably have to repress the way they feel and run the risk of being the bad guy because no one would understand or want to navigate the ways in which they experience Aromanticism. They bottle it up and when things go wrong probably find it easier to just blame themselves for not being enough or their partner when really, they just have to look into themselves and their orientation. I think black women could feel more assertive in themselves if they realized that they can be Aromantic and not pushed into this box where they have to play a role they don’t want to play. Black women deserve to explore romantic orientations as well as sexual ones and have a deep dive into how they feel. And that should be respected. To black Aromantic people I say keep pushing the odds, keep daring to form a new mold for black kids to come because we’re drowned in content and media that tells us we’re overly sexualized and romanticized and that can change with us. Our families and friends may not understand, the world may not even understand, but as long as you get who you are that’s honestly all that matters. As a collective we can help each other learn and grow, we can push each other in our advocacy and know it’s not a competition. All our efforts should be us trying to get Aromanticism to be taken as seriously as any other orientation.

Being Aroflux and Black by Kimberly Butler (@/TheAsexualGoddess) on AUREA (2021)

[reinanova]

i have a few scenarios for you to consider

~~~

character: “i’m not straight”

fandom*: mmmm but what if you were

~~~

character: is bisexual in the comics

fandom: well, character isn’t explicitly stated to be bi in the movies, therefore character is straight

~~~

writer: yeah character is pan and has a dating history with all genders (and this wasn’t shown bcuz of xyz)

fandom: well, it doesn’t matter what the writer says, character is straight bcuz they’ve only dated the opposite gender on screen

~~~

character: is gay (either implied or explicitly stated to be homosexual and homoromantic)

fandom: well, maybe they’re homosexual but heteroromantic**, therefore i’m only going to ship this character with the opposite gender

~~~

character: is a lesbian

fandom: well, lesbians can still have sex with men therefore i’m going to write f/m smut with this lesbian and a man. not as a “figuring out/exploring my sexuality” fic but just bcuz i can

~~~

queer community: hey this character is canonically queer, could you please be respectful of that?

fandom: how about you go fuck yourselves. this is so embarrassing to be asking for respectful representation, literally shut the fuck up

~~~

character: is canonically gay

fandom: well you can’t prove he’s not attracted to women so he’s straight actually

~~~

disclaimers:

* i’m talking about a fandom as a whole in this post, not a couple individuals who may do this. this is talking about if a large chunk (think half or more) of a fandom is ignoring a canon queer identity

** no hate to someone who may identify this way. if someone is this identity, kudos to them, but people shouldn’t just use this as an excuse to ignore someone’s queer identity

this is how you sound when ignoring aspec*** identities. do you hear how ridiculous this is?

*** aspec (the way i use it at least) includes the asexual spectrum (ace-spec) and aromantic spectrum (aro-spec). also your friendly reminder that people can be aro and not ace and vise versa but you can’t ignore one or the other to suit your fancy

there will probably always be people doing this (re: ignoring canon queer identities) in fandoms, however, not in mainstream and popular ships and not to the extent that aspec identities are erased. bcuz if you have a problem with the above scenarios but not when the character is aspec, an already basically invisible identity, you need to re-examine your thinking and deal with your hypocrisy

do you know how hard it is to prove a LACK of something? even if someone straight up says, “i experience zero sexual or romantic attraction to anyone,” someone else will be like, “well how do you know you just haven’t found the right person yet?”

is the idea that someone doesn’t want a romantic or sexual relationship that difficult to understand?

if you want to see your identity represented in a character headcanon, great! but do so in a way that doesn’t negate another marginalized and underrepresented canon identity

there are SO! MANY! straight characters at your disposal. use one of them for your queer headcanons until we reach the point where your identity is canon. then you’ll probably be fighting for representation the same way i am right now

it also sucks to see fighting within the aspec community. bcuz yes aro and ace identities are a spectrum. however, when there’s a singular character with an aspec identity, you physically cannot showcase that spectrum. so if an ace character is sex-favorable, allos will believe all ace people are sex-favorable and ignore aces who are not. same thing for sex-repulsed aces and so on. the only solution is to fight for more aspec representation so everyone can see themselves in media without sacrificing parts of an aspec identity to fit how you identify

i’m tired. i’m so fucking tired of fighting for an ounce of representation. this should not be an uphill battle for people to accept aspec characters. i shouldn’t have to fight the queer community and straight people for this

[nekropsii]

Wild how when I call Shipping Culture oppressively pervasive and awful for any Aro/Ace with the gall to enjoy anything on the Internet, I get called a Fun-Hating Killjoy and told to just shut the fuck up or off myself, no matter how mild or polite my comment is. Wild how when I say a character either is textually Aro/Ace or is easier to read as Aro/Ace than Alloromantic/sexual, people start talking down to me like I'm a child who doesn't know anything, saying "Friendly reminder that Aro(s)/Aces can Date/Have Sex too, just like us Normal People!". As if I don't know anything about my own identity. Wild how when I do either of these things or even just say I'm not into a pairing or uninvested in shipping in general people call me fucking homophobic, even if the (at least popularly perceived - let's be honest, people are wrong half the time) genders of the characters is never once made relevant. Even though their reasoning for me being homophobic is lack of investment in a gay pairing they like, and nothing more. Wild how people throw little baby tantrums at even the gentlest criticism of Shipping Culture, or someone choosing not to engage heavily in it. Wild how they have the audacity to ask, with hostility, what the fuck Aro(s)/Aces are talking about when they say Shipping Culture is hostile to Aro/Ace fans, or ask what's wrong with them when they say that they aren't into Shipping.

It's almost like Bigots don't realize they're being Bigots when they do Bigotry, so just saying you're not a Bigot isn't enough. It's almost like Aro/Ace people know what the hell they're talking about. It's almost like we have a fucking point. It's almost like we're valid in expressing contempt and frustration with the constant expectation to engage with Romance and Sexuality at every waking moment, even if we're Romance and/or Sex Favorable. It's almost like we're tired of getting our identities erased, and we're tired of expecting to "act normal", and we're tired of just taking it when Allos use the Favorable members of our communities as a scapegoat for why they should be allowed to totally erase any of our representation just for their "Harmless Queer Fun" - deliberately, and I mean DELIBERATELY, failing to recognize or acknowledge the character's orientation, and how an A-Spec's personal relationship with and expressions of Love are going to look drastically different from an Allo person's - and call us the Bigots when we even glance in the direction of objection.

It's almost like Allo/Amatonormativity are oppressive forces.

Alloromantics/sexuals are constantly looking for any reason they can to call Aro(s)/Aces unloving, unfeeling, frigid, soulless, cruel. Inhuman. They're looking for any reason they can to call us whiny children, stupid, people who "just haven't found the right one", addressing us only as "Works in Progress", or someone who can have their sexuality corrected with the right stimulus - Conversion Therapy and Corrective Rape are okay when it happens to us, after all. Any reason at all to call us heartless monsters. AlloAces are confused children. They can be fixed. AroAllos are manipulative, unfeeling sexual predators. They can't be fixed - just kill them. AroAces are frigid, mean bitches. They can be fixed. God forbid you're Aplatonic. God forbid you're part of the Repulsed spectrum. God forbid you're one of the Loveless. God forbid you hold any pride in your identity, God forbid you don't keep your mouth shut, God forbid you critique the overinflated importance Allos place onto Love as a concept. God forbid you critique something as asinine and juvenile as fucking Shipping Culture. Do any one of these and you've put a bright red, blazing neon target on your back.

Wild how the only real humans amongst us are the Romance, Sex, and Friendship Favorable who put their head down and mask as Allo, and side with the Allos when their fellow A-Specs get too loud for the comfort of their Allo friend's delicate little fee-fees. After all, Vitriol and Harassment are warranted when an Allo's feelings get slightly hurt that an Aro person says, on their own account, to no one in particular, that they're sick of every tag being 80% Shipping Content. Which is a vehemently evil personal attack, clearly.

Wild.

[polysucks]

How do you feel about cats? I desperately wish asoiaf had more of them

I love cats, personally. I got two of them! I also have two dogs! I’m more of a cat person than a dog person, but I love both :3

But, as you know, I’m fuckin insane, so of course I had to use your ask as a platform to talk about how Peepaw Greg uses cat and dog symbolism in the series.

So let’s talk meta about his usage of cat and dog themes in Westeros.

In asoiaf, gpa Greg makes big big use of canine and lupine symbolism—most notably through the Starks and their direwolves—to explore some themes of loyalty, survival, identity, and instinct. The prevalence of dog-adjacent imagery, from the feral wildness of the direwolves to the brutalized obedience of people like Sandor Clegane, speaks to a deeper thematic preoccupation with what it means to belong (hypergeneralized) like. to a family, to a code, to a pack. Wolves and dogs in peepaw’s world are not literally animals, they’re totems of identity and indicative to some degree of fate that becomes perpendicular with the moral and emotional arcs of the characters they shadow.

By contrast, feline imagery like the Lannisters’ cunty lion sigil remains largely heraldic and aesthetic rather than emotionally or thematically embedded. Lions in the series symbolize institutional pride, legacy, and power, but lack the dynamic intimacy of the wolves. They are mythologized apex predators, ya sure ok, but predators in captivity, not the wild. They’ve lost their instincts. Their strength is theatrical. Their claws have become ceremonial.

The Lannisters aren’t predatory like their avatar so to speak. They’re curated. Groomed. Caged in gold and politics and perception. They hiss and bite, but most of them are bound by visage and expectation:

• Tywin is the lion’s roar—but it’s hollow in the end. He dies on the toilet. Womp womp (I laugh errytime)

• Cersei sees herself as a lioness, but she spirals into paranoia and ineffectual tyranny. (Literally just an evil slut. Smooth brain. No thoughts, just vanity. Yas queen go offffffff)

• Jaime begins as the golden lion but is declawed—literally—and only becomes compelling once he sheds that identity. (Smol. Must be protected at all costs.)

• Tyrion, the runt of the litter, understands the lion’s mold enough to break it—and it nearly destroys him. (I mean it kinda does long long term. I love who he becomes in adwd)

The Rains of Castamere goes fuckin HARD and underscores their obsession with legacy through intimidation (BECAUSE OF ONEEEEEEEE TIME. IT WAS ONE TIME. LIKE ITS NOT HARD TO ERADICATE THE ENTIRETY OF 2 HOUSE LINEAGES ESPECIALLY IF THEYRE SWORN UNDER YOU IM SORRY TYWIN BUT THATS NOT the fLEX YOU THINK IT IS im sorry okay back to our regularly scheduled insanity)

— A Storm of Swords, Catelyn VII

— A Storm of Swords, Arya VII

This isn’t a simple cats vs. dogs dichotomy. It’s about what these animals represent. Wolves and hound imagery when used in asoiaf evoke loyalty, instinct, and interdependence. Lions (or generally, feline figures which, I note, are very few) represent arrogance, isolation, and the brittle weight of legacy. Martin privileges the canine because his world favors those who endure—not those who posture. True survival in Westeros depends on bonds, not bloodlines; on pack over pride. (Get it? Bc a ‘pride’ is a pack? A pack of lions? Like the phrase blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb? Get it? Ok I’ll see myself out no need to call security)

While the thematic imbalance may seem skewed toward the wolf, this asymmetry is deliberate!!! The lion isn’t underdeveloped—it’s hollowed. It stands as a symbol of inherited power, not earned strength. Like Famous Disabled Worker Rights Advocate and Cheese Enthusiast Magister Illyrio once said

— A Dance with Dragons, Tyrion I

The lions of Westeros roar from red keeps and golden thrones (toilet thrones, am I right? Huh? Eh?), but they are trapped by politics, legacy, and illusion. Their power is a spectacle maintained through fear, maintained through myth. They ain’t even got the fundage to back it up. Pull up, Cersei. The wolves, by comparison, represent power that is quiet, blood-won, and bone-deep. They do not command; they endure. They are not elevated by institutions, but by instinct.

Each direwolf’s fate mirrors their Stark:

• Lady’s unjust execution reflects Sansa’s theft of innocence and disconnection due to her loss of identity and lack of companionship.

• Grey Wind’s death during the Red Wedding marks Robb’s failure to heed instinct, and his transformation from noble heir to vengeful pretender.

• Nymeria’s independence parallels Arya’s exile and self-determination, leading a pack in the Riverlands as Arya learns to lead her own life beyond names.

• Shaggydog’s ferality reflects Rickon’s descent into chaos without guidance or protection or intervention.

• Summer’s sacrifice anchors Bran’s transformation into something inhuman, but still bound to loyalty and vision.

• Ghost, albino and silent, is Jon’s mirror: othered, introspective, and spectral. A quiet nod, too, to his secret Targaryen bloodline. (Suck my ass it’s canon)

These direwolves are not pets. They’re living metaphors and fragments of soul and fate.

So no—I don’t think the series needs more cats! Their absence is the point. The feline is not underused; it is overestimated, just like the legacy it represents. Lions are only dangerous when the wolves are gone.

And besides—when Martin did give us a Cat, he had her butchered at a wedding and threw her body in a river. He killed her. Then he brought her back. Then he killed her again—socially, narratively, and emotionally.

So… maybe we’re good on cats.

Rip cat you woulda loved the MILF category on pornhub <3

[delicatedarknight]

Bruce: ok kids I'm going out on a date with Clark. behave yourself

[few seconds after Bruce left]

Jason: from today on I'm the king of this city. Bow down to me peasants

Tim: bow down huh? Come here let me bow down your head backwards

Jason: you dare to talk back to me, you imbecile. Our fight shall be worthy

Tim: let's meet in the ring, peasant

Damian: On one side we have our penny worth king and on the other hand we have a dime worth peasant. The fight shall begin

Jason: here you go peasant have this +2

Tim[smirking]: bow down to me. *Throws a +4*

Jason[grinning]: huh bow? To you huh? Now suffer

*throws 2 +4*

Tim[pulls out Jason's order history]: checkmate

Jason[laughing maniacally]: any last words? *Pulls out Tim/kon cute pics together*

[loud gasps audio]

Dick[in batman's cape]: order order silence in the court

Jason: your honor this villain has stolen my rightful place as the king.

Tim: objection you honor. It's all a lie. I'm the rightful king. I even have witness with me

Dick: present the witness

Damian[in specs]: your honor I'm Detective Wayne I would say they both are liars. *Removes the specs* it's I, I am the actual king, my lord

Bruce: no your honor, it's me. I'm the real king.

[loud gasps]

Dick[sweating]: haha the court declares Bruce as the king and is now adjourned.

Jason[silently walking away]: yea yea he is the kin-

Bruce[catching Jason]: now as the king, I shall hand over the decree

[collective tsks from kids]

Bruce: my dear subjects, from today on each Friday shall be 'Who dressed up as the best meme' war. The winner shall be awarded adequately.

Damian: it's not like we lack anything father

Bruce: the winner shall be awarded with Batman's affection

[collective screaming]

Jason: this time I shall win

Damian: dream on

Clark[outside window]: can I also participate?

[collective boos]

[ell-if-i-know]

thinking about arthur lester through an aromantic lens is very interesting

how he feels like no one would understand his point of view, like there's something just wrong that he can't describe. how he reacts with scorn when it's implied that he got cold feet, because he does care about her but he just. doesn't love her. and he can't change that. he got married because he got bella pregnant and her father made them get married. obviously this doesn't make him ditching her okay, but it is a really interesting insight.

now, this doesn't necessarily prove he's aro, or even queer, but as an aro person myself i can relate to the feeling of not being able to put into words what you feel, and for arthur lester, private eye in the 1930s, there would have been even less of a conversation about anything queer related, considering it was still illegal for people to engage in same-sex relationships.

aromantic people are commonly described by alloromantic people through their lack of attraction, through what they percieve as missing. a lot of aro people, however, say that we aren't missing anything because we don't need romantic love to be whole, and romantic love is not the only kind of love there is. arthur lester views platonic love as deeply important (even calling it "the purest kind" of love when talking to antoine) , and he deeply values his bond with john, his closest friend.

this also feels very familiar to me as an aromantic experience, the value placed onto platonic relationships being higher than romantic relationships.

i don't really have a conclusion, just that a lot of arthur's experiences are deeply relateable to me as an queer, specifically aro, person, and that's why i headcanon him as aromantic or aro-spec. i do definitely think there are some other interesting lgbtq readings to be had with his character, but ultimately i believe that arthur lester is queer in a definite way, even if it's the ease with which he loves his friends and they love him back. the way he struggles to articulate his feelings, the way his friend doesn't understand what arthur means, the way he views platonic love as deeply important, it all resonates with me as an aro person and it's just. aughhhh me when podcast men me when the podcast is podcasting me when i have headcanons

[evermoredeluxe]

How Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour Took Over the Entire World

By Chris Willman

By Alissa Gao for Variety

On the morning that Taylor Swift’s “Eras Tour” is about to begin a three-night stand in Dublin, the older gentleman taking charge of my passport at airport customs has clearly had his fill of Swifties, probably processing them by the hundreds already today. When I reveal myself to be one too — despite being arguably the wrong gender, inarguably old and lacking a telltale “Lover” mascara star over my right eye — his disdain is palpable. Suddenly, I’m getting way more screening questions than anyone not on a watch list should. “What do you like about her?” he sneers, peering up over specs.

This is probably the wrong time for me to point out Swift’s Irish heritage, or to assert that she is this generation’s James Joyce. (The original king of the Easter eggs, right?) I wouldn’t really go that far — I’m only on record as doing my best to certify her as this century’s Beatles. Trying to figure out how to answer him, the past 18 years of extolling Swift in print flash before my eyes. I end up murmuring the bare minimum: “Um, her songwriting.” This seems to disturb him further. He snaps back: “Aren’t they all the same song” — a slight pause, and I know what’s coming next — “about her breakups?” Then, abruptly, he stamps me through, sparing me a detour to Interpol for more grilling.

In the cab into town, the driver is blasting a local talk-radio personality sharing his dismay about the fans of an awful superstar taking over his country. The host reads an email sent in from a hater who says, “A year ago, when tickets went on sale, my partner and I made a reservation to take our kids out of the country this Friday morning. … Thank you for creating a safe space with your show.” I start to wonder if Swift might have met her match at the Cliffs of Moher.

But from my drop-off forward, the next three days are like living in a Swift-topia. The mile and a half to Aviva Stadium each night is like Disneyland when it shuts its doors early for an affinity group. Whether stopping in the pubs or walking through the charming neighborhood of Victorian brick homes adjoining the fancy new stadium, there’s that warm feeling of people who are united by one quality: They are all super in touch with their feelings — or else they wouldn’t be Swift fans. And they all are happy to stop on the street or over pints to talk about poetical expression. (Well, except for the occasional taciturn, invariably straight young male who has signified his supportive-plus-one status by wearing a jersey bearing the name of Swift’s Super Bowl beau, Travis Kelce.)

So it is that I end up chatting with a middle-aged gay man in a sequin-covered shirt whose female companion whispers to me, while he steps away to trade friendship bracelets with a 10-year-old girl and her mum, that Swift’s music just helped him through a difficult breakup. The girl then runs off to trade her homemade bracelets with a pair of high-helmeted Dublin policemen loaded up to their own elbows with friendship swag — unexpected accessories for long arms of the law.

All the stories about American Swifties swarming overseas to catch “The Eras Tour” turn out to be true: You couldn’t swing a neon golf club around here without hitting a Yank. Approximately one out of every five fans I approach is visiting from the States — and the jubilation they’re feeling about the night’s impending concert is compounded by the fact that nearly all of them financed a European vacation and a concert ticket for roughly the same amount they would have paid on a secondary ticketing site for a typical four-figure ticket to one of last year’s predatorily repriced U.S. shows.

Remember the venerable stereotype of the Ugly Americans, brusquely trampling over refined Europeans in their travels? Thanks to Taylor Swift, who has a gift for laying out global welcome mats, this is the summer of the Spangly American.

At the stadium on night one, just down the row from me are a group of millennials from New Jersey, several in glam unitards inspired by the “Lover” or “1989” portions of the career-spanning show and looking like they were costumed by Swift’s own designer, with fake jewel-encrusted microphones to match. I ask how many hours went into perfecting these nearly pro-grade outfits.

“About 80 hours for mine,” says Megan McLaughlin. “Hers probably longer,” she adds, nodding toward one of her sisters, Margo Steinberg. “She knows all the glues and the best gems.” Indeed, confirms Steinberg, “I was working on mine since January. And, yes, I did quit my job to finish it!” She adds, when I ask if she cares to share any secrets to a particularly good look, “You have to use the B-7000 glue.” (A third sister, Amelia McLaughlin, admits she resorted to buying her spangly dress off Etsy — “I was doing a PhD, but I had to match these girls’ enthusiasm” — while a fourth, Carolyn McLaughlin, skipped the glitter and went for a red dress that matches Swift’s from the “I Bet You Think About Me” video.)

Certainly, there is an element of cosplay to many of the fans’ outfits. Some have seen footage of the new segment Swift added to the tour beginning in April 2024 — devoted to her most recent album, the 31-song “Tortured Poets Department” — and have managed to manufacture gowns that look like they’re made of paper and feature lyric excerpts printed on them in script, à la Swift’s custom-made Vivienne Westwood dress. I meet a group of American women who became friends as literature majors in college who have “Tortured Poets”-themed outfits, one duplicating the Westwood dress and the other with handmade printouts of the latest album’s lyrics pinned all over her black dress, as if she were literally pulling pages out of Swift’s playbook.

It’s the devotion to lyrics, even more than glitter, that is most impressive about the bespoke outfits fans have concocted for the occasion. There are scores and scores of Swifties wearing homemade T-shirts — sometimes singular, sometimes matching with a friend, like walking Burma-Shave signs. Some of the messages are obvious, like the dozens of laddies wearing “It’s me, hi, I’m the husband/boyfriend/father, it’s me” shirts. (Bet that seemed really original at one time.) But a lot of them refer to more obscure songs or stanzas, as if every nearby street or stadium loge section is full of human Easter eggs, begging to be unpacked. It’s hard to think of any other superstar in the history of stadium tours who could have inspired as much fan-crafted clothing rooted in the power of words.

Combos of middle-aged mothers and their teen or 20-something daughters abound; some of them have seized on Swift’s mentions of her own mother, Andrea, to come up with their T-shirt ideas. On Lansdowne Road, I talk to a mum whose red-on-black shirt says, “Had to listen to all this drama,” accompanied by a daughter bearing the legend, “And here’s to my mama.” (This is a reference to Swift’s song “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.”)

Later, in a stadium Guinness line, I chat up a pair of thirsty locals, the daughter’s shirt reading “I call my mom, she said …,” with the mom’s shirt completing the thought: “It was for the best.” (Damn it, I had to Google to recall that’s from a “1989” Vault track that came out last year.) I ask the daughter if she had to explain to her mom what she was wearing. “She’s 52,” she replies. “I don’t think she knows.”

Age is really no guarantor of not getting it — the popular #SwiftieOver50 hashtag on X proves that. Although outnumbered, plenty of older people are unaccompanied by a minor, or by anyone who has been a minor in the past 20 years. I approach a middle-aged couple, Jean Sebastian Conley and Natasha Gagne, again bidden by their matching shirts — “Who’s Taylor Swift?” and “Who’s Travis Kelce?” They turn out to be French Canadians who found their 206-euro SRO tickets to be a steal compared with the extravagant resale prices they briefly considered back home after being shut out of the initial on-sale. I ask what attracted them to Swift since, unlike so many others here, they didn’t grow up with her.

“I really fell in love with her with the ‘Folklore’ album,” Conley says, referring to her low-key Grammy-winning album recorded during the early months of the pandemic. “I think different audiences and older audiences found her through that and ‘Evermore’ because they were more singer-songwriter, a little bit rougher indie music, and that’s what we like most. So that’s how I got hooked.” For her part, Gagne says, “I like everything she represents. And when she redid all her masters, that’s where I thought she was a lady boss.”

It’s a reminder that, for however many mini-narratives Swift packs into the three hours and 20 minutes of an “Eras” show, there are really four or five years of backstory that feed into the audience’s shared awareness. When she sings the ominous ballad “My Tears Ricochet,” accompanied by a coven of stone-faced dancers, at least some fans will understand it as a distant reflection of her very public feelings about the men she considers her business bêtes noires, Scooter Braun and Scott Borchetta, who bought and sold (respectively) the rights to her first six albums, spawning much vitriol as well as four “Taylor’s Version” rerecorded albums to date.

When the dancers put their grins back on, Swift plays an ebullient excerpt of a very recent “Poets” bonus track, “So High School,” which every person in the crowd will know is inspired by Kelce. There are some breakup songs of recent vintage too — yes, Mr. Customs Man! — like “The Smallest Man in the World,” which may or may not have cost Matty Healy, the 1975 frontman and former Swift paramour, a night of sleep.

The whole tour is themed around not just the newer records but the rerecordings that have made every older album in her catalog feel improbably fresh. It was, quite possibly, the single most baller move in the history of the record industry … and led to the career-retrospective concept for what is already unquestionably the biggest tour in the history of popular music.

Any discussion of the charms of fandom isn’t meant to forestall discussion of “The Eras Tour” as big business. The numbers are fuzzy because Swift’s camp does not release grosses from her shows, unlike nearly every other artist at the stadium or arena level. Even when the tour wraps after 20 months on Dec. 8 in Vancouver, it seems likely those numbers will continue to be guarded with a zeal on par with the government of North Korea’s. Many industry experts believe the gross will approach or even surpass $2 billion.

What is known for certain — even without a confirmation from Swift World — is that she broke the all-time tour-gross figure when she hit the $1 billion mark, whenever exactly that might have been. The two trade publications that specialize in the touring industry have slightly differing estimates: Billboard calculated a cumulative gross of approximately $900 million when she took a break at the end of 2023, figuring that she would crack $1 billion shortly into the tour’s resumption in April, while Pollstar estimated that she had passed $1 billion by the conclusion of last year. Any way you guesstimate it, Swift took less than a year to break the previous record of $939.1 million, which Elton John grossed with his “Farewell Yellow Brick Road” tour across nearly three years of shows.

One source close to the production said early in the “Eras Tour” era that her average gross each night is $14 million. Others believe that is a highly conservative estimate, with a possible total that on at least some nights edges closer to $17 million. One remarkable aspect is that this does not include the revenue from any inflated resale tickets — which, as anyone who has tried to get tickets through Vivid Seats or StubHub knows, mostly have gone for several times their face value. It was little publicized, but Swift had “dynamic pricing” turned off for her ticket sales, possibly to avoid the controversies Bruce Springsteen encountered when the face value on some of his tickets leaped to the four-figure range upon their first sale. Swift left money on the table by not participating in the scalping of her own tickets, which had an average price of around $230 and topped out at $499, excepting VIP packages, which zenithed at $899 — all well short of what some other superstars ask nowadays. Of course, neither Argentina nor anyone at Wembley Stadium ahead of Swift’s opening night performance in June will be crying for her when she’s in reach of $2 billion without the resale inflation … not to mention the hundreds of millions of dollars in merch.

(This is extraordinary also because Swift hasn’t done any press to promote the tour, except for when she was selected as Time Magazine’s Person of the Year in December. But she doesn’t need to — the tour is constantly being celebrated on social media with every outfit change. And it’s also become so huge, it’s featured more A-list sightings than the Oscars, from Julia Roberts to Tom Cruise to Stevie Nicks, who had the surprise song “You’re on Your Own, Kid” dedicated to her in Dublin.)

Benson Boone, whose “Beautiful Things” is the most-streamed song of 2024 in the U.S. and the world, says he felt dwarfed when performing as the opening act at one of Swift’s seven shows at London’s Wembley Stadium. He has forever committed to memory the exact attendance figure he was given for the night: “89,497,” he says. “Just her stage alone is bigger than anything I’ve ever seen — 300 feet of it!” he says. “I took in every moment. It was cool for me to experience another artist’s world and learn from it. I want to work that hard and be the captain of my ship.”

Although it’s maddening to a media that likes official box office reports and can’t get them, it’s easy to see the wisdom in not flaunting those figures if you’re a superstar artist who counts on being seen as relatable. Swift certainly is proud of breaking records — she posted a tweet when “The Tortured Poets Department” spent its first 12 weeks at No. 1 on the album chart, one of only three albums in history to do so. But she’d rather count fan impressions than dollars. By the same token, she doesn’t publicize or confirm acts of generosity that leak out, like the sizable food-bank donations she makes in every city she tours, or the $100,000 bonuses that the tour’s 50 truck drivers reportedly got for Christmas.

An addendum to all this is how the “Eras Tour” film — released last fall, less than halfway through the actual tour — grossed just over $180 million domestically and $261 million globally, beating the records set by Justin Bieber’s concert film in the U.S. and Michael Jackson’s globally. Massive big-screen spoilers only heightened, rather than diminished, resale demand for the shows yet to come on the 152-date tour and helped precipitate the movement among Americans to head overseas, to make up for the supply found sorely lacking at home.

“She is the torchbearer for the live industry,” says Andy Gensler, editor of Pollstar. “It’s nothing we’ve ever seen before, and it’ll be a long time before we see it again. Her timing was exquisite: The pandemic created this yearning and hunger for live entertainment like nothing else in our history, so she couldn’t have picked a better time to go out.” Pollstar called last year a “historic golden age” for touring, as the top 100 global tours collectively surpassed $9 billion — up 46% from 2022 — with Swift obviously contributing a significant chunk of that total. (This year, the trade reports that overall tour attendance is down, with flat grosses, representing a slight reckoning for the live industry that, obviously, isn’t impacting “Eras.”)

“What my partners and I talk a lot about is how it’s one thing to have a big tour in North America. It’s another thing to have an equally big tour wherever you are in the world and to do doubles and triples in these markets,” says Bernie Cahill, an Activist founding partner and manager of acts including the Grateful Dead and the Lumineers. “It’s an anomaly. It’s not normal. And don’t forget, you’re going into what I call asymmetric venues, which are venues that are not really built for music; these are venues that are built for football games or soccer games and can be very challenging to do music. And they get it right every time — Louis Messina [Swift’s tour promoter since her earliest days] and his team are world-class.” But for all that globe-trotting, he notes, “there are some artists that you see do a show and you know they don’t even know what city they’re in. I always feel like Taylor knows exactly where she is. She has a relationship with that city or that market and those fans and she’s connected to them in ways that are very authentic, that you can’t fake.”

The one big snafu in the rollout of “The Eras Tour” occurred in November 2022 when the Ticketmaster system melted down after too many North American dates went on sale at once, causing thousands of fans to experience long delays. The on-sale broke the all-time record for tickets sold in a single day at 2 million, but it also nearly broke the world’s largest ticketing platform. Swift herself was Teflon in this situation, as the blame fell on a ticketing system not capable of handling so much of the Swift-loving world at once. And although most of the problems people have with Ticketmaster are different from what fans faced in the “Eras Tour” debacle — mainly, hidden fees and monopolistic practices — it could have big legislative consequences anyway. Dean Budnick, co-author of “Ticket Masters: The Rise of the Concert Industry and How the Public Got Scalped,” believes that the Swift hullabaloo was the main catalyst for Congress enacting reform. “There’s no question that perhaps there’s gonna be some meaningful change in ticketing as a result of what people experienced with that on-sale.”

That sense Cahill spoke about of the singer making it clear to an audience she knows exactly where she’s at is in full force in Dublin. Swift introduces the “Folklore”/”Evermore” segment by suggesting that she had a spiritual locale in mind when she started writing that more intimate material, locked in during the first part of the pandemic. “It keeps me up at night all year long: Which era is the most Irish?” she half-jokes to the crowd. “I’m gonna make a case for it being ‘Folklore’ … This album’s imaginary world had a whole aesthetic — like I lived in this cabin in a really green, nature-y, moss-covered landscape. You see where I’m going?… Another thing that I think makes it more Irish than the other eras is, ‘Folklore’ was all about storytelling. And I know you hear this a lot, but you guys are naturally gifted storytellers, right?”

Later on, Swift will cement the local connection by playing, as a “secret” surprise acoustic song, “Sweet Nothing.” She doesn’t have to give the crowd any explanation for that: From the first notes, Irish Swifties will immediately recall that the lyrics reference to the coastal town of Wicklow. The real cherry on top of the show for locals at any international Eras Tour stop, though, comes with a customized moment each night during “We Are Never Getting Back Together” when the spotlight is put on backing dancer Kameron Saunders for a couple of seconds, as he blurts out something locally appropriate, and cheeky. One night in Dublin, it’s the Irish catchphrase “the neck of ye!”; on another, he yells out “pog mo thoin,” meaning “kiss my ass!”; the massive, knowing laugh that inside joke gets makes it clear this isn’t entirely an audience of American tourists after all.

But the basic theatrics and emotional currents remain consistent from show to show. If Swift is surprisingly reticent to make her “Eras Tour” numbers public, that may be, in part, her desire to keep the focus primarily on a personal fan connection. Music industry veterans are taken aback by Swift’s ability to be giant and intimate onstage. “She’s a master marketer of herself — and she is not afraid to be vulnerable to her fans,” says Michele Bernstein, who runs a consultancy that works with stars like Drake. Bernstein could almost be quoting the lyrics of “Mastermind,” where Swift describes herself in almost comically omniscient terms, then dives into a bridge about how no one would play with her as a little girl.

People like my guardian of the customs gate may complain about Swift’s songs centering on her romantic splits, but that subject matter magnifies her own insecurities and weaknesses, expressed in genuinely eccentric wordplay, in ways that keep the audience in thrall to someone they perceive as a humble underdog as well as a veritable cage fighter. She could do a $10 billion tour someday and still keep the crowd enraptured by how she measures up to, or rallies to exceed, the smallest man — or men, or Kardashians — in the world.

This plays out in the “Eras” show in all sorts of symbolic ways, like the new segment in the “Tortured Poets” section where she seems to have fainted from the vapors of failed romance. Dancers in tuxedos try to revive her while a swing version of “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart” plays over the PA. A pair of women dressed as nurses fit her with what looks like a majorette’s uniform — or, with all its off-white stripes, is it really meant to resemble a straitjacket? The resemblance is probably not coincidental. Swift fans know there’s nothing like a mad woman.

The most exhilarating moment that has been added to the show this year has her gliding down the ramp on a platform, appearing to anyone at floor level like she is levitating like the witch she makes herself out to be in “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?” Taylor Swift: She was Agatha all along!

Yes, there is much to unpack. But in Dublin and in every other city where “Eras” has alighted, there is also pure inspiration for those who maybe haven’t always felt like they’ve had a voice, whether it’s her LGBTQ+ fan base or, well, women. It’s a modern transmutation of Beatlemania in which Swift manages to be all four Fabs, and a mirror, as well as object, of that gaze. You don’t have to be a woman to experience the explosion of pure female joy that takes place on a mass scale at an “Eras” gig, but for men, it doesn’t hurt to have a healthy sense of where you might sit on the female spectrum.

Outside Aviva Stadium, two young Londoners have formed their own two-woman straight-gay alliance: One is wearing a shirt with the hand- drawn words “You’re obsessive and crazy,” and the other’s shirt has the phrase “You’re gay,” each with an arrow pointing to the other. This echoes the original lyrics to Swift’s 2006 oldie “Picture to Burn,” which was rerecorded after some were offended by “gay” as a possible teen epithet. “I am obsessive and crazy, and she is gay,” laughs Zoe Gibson, pointing to her friend, India Day. “We want to bring back the original lyrics. We never found them homophobic — we want to reclaim it.” Day adds, “We’ve listened to her since we were 4 years old, so obviously there’s the nostalgia factor. But for me, she speaks on quite a lot of issues like gay rights and feminism, and all of her songs perfectly sum up the experience of being a woman.”

Some of the shirts are apropos for Pride Month. Seeing a boy of no older than 15 or 16 wearing a homemade “But Daddy I Love Him” shirt (the title of a “Tortured Poets” fan favorite), it’s easy to imagine some courage was required to don that apparel. Along the same lines, I spot any number of women making their own statement in shirts with the modified exclamation “But Daddy I Love Her.”

Gay or straight, 6 years old or 60-something, female or just female-allied, the crowd inside gets its sway on early in the show, with the arrival of the gentle, waltz-time “Lover.” It’s not one of the big set-pieces of this nonstop Broadway-style production — the spotlight is just on Swift and her acoustic guitar — but it might be the one where the entire audience feels like it’s at a four-minute campfire. No wicked witchiness here, just winsomeness.

Down on the floor, I’m seeing what amounts to a Taylor Swift mosh pit: gangs of two or three or five young women, ignoring the fact that Swift herself is just yards away from them on the ramp. They’re singing and acting out every last line to each other, as if the superstar isn’t even towering right over them. A waste of their euros? Hardly. Swift will capture their full attention again as the show proceeds, but in the moment, she isn’t just a superstar — she might be the world’s greatest community organizer.

[dilfdater420]

listen this has been in my head for awhile,, Cecil with an assistant who's battle beasts daughter(half alien/half human, so she has a beast form and human form)- now listen, reader isn't much of a fighter, espically after her whole childhood being in a crime ring and going to jail and such- but for Cecil? she'll fight. If he wants her to fight, she does. When he calls her to heel, she does. It's pretty much like an assistant/bodyguard. If you're inspired, could you do some headcanons based on this? romantic or platonic is fine with me! :3

Hey Anon! This is super cool! I love the idea. Feel free to request more and expand on it if you have ideas afterwards because I feel like this is an interesting dynamic to be explored, I'm so serious I'm invested

I’ll make the reader gender neutral though because that’s honestly how I write LOL.

#dilfdater420 : Cecil Stedman x Half Human!Half Alien!Reader who’s Battle Beasts’ kid. little --romantic?? platonic?? idk they're complicated-- headcanons post, feel free to request more from me! more under the cut

Cecil, at first, found you as a means to an end. Something to use to his advantage, and to be evenly matched with Invincible at least. Cecil remembers the damage your own father did to the kid, to have that kind of power even on a small scale at his beck and call could reap bountiful results for himself and the world if Invincible decided to jump ship or worse, Viltrum uses its force and Mark isn't enough.

He found you through intel that there was a powerful threat on Earth that needed to be dealt with from an unknown source. He expected it to be a trap and sent two of the Guardians and himself, finding it to be an actual report.

But the one fault with the report was that it wasn't completely true. You were this defensive, clingy thing that jumped on the man as soon as he outstretched a hand to shake. You were weeping, had almost gave Cecil a heart attack and set his hairline a foot back, but he ended up returning the embrace and awkwardly cuddling you.

This was the beginning of an imprint. After going back to the GDA, never parting with the hand that reached to you in the process, you were put through a series of tests and then therapy. That's where the story of child abuse and violence devolved, and the knowledge that you were the spawn of Battle Beast. After that, Cecil was a lot less annoyed by your closeness, in fact, he banked on it.

With you acclimated enough to be normal and not freak out when you two were separated, Cecil had you become his left hand.

You got his coffee, was something he could air his frustrations to--and no one would ever find out, debriefed him on the current state of the world every morning, and was ready to die if he so little as suggested the notion. It was a match made in heaven, but a high maintenance one.

You talked a lot whenever you could, curious about everything. You were definitely not a child, but incredibly childish. You'd just reach out for anything, Donald even had to make a habit of slapping your hand before you got hurt.

Not to mention, living together? His personal space sacrificed for the good of the world. He doesn't get paid enough.

You improve Cecil's home situation in some circumstances. He could wake up to the kitchen sink once clad with utensils in the aftermath of eating takeout too many times for it to be healthy suddenly clean and tidy. How'd you know he wanted it to be cleaned without telling you? He sighed at it when you first moved in while showing you around.

On the flipside, you could also destroy Cecil's couch and decorative pillows with your claws because you think the sound of fabric ripping is satisfying.

Now, the final question is, how are you faring well as an actual bodyguard? Yes you come from a strong parent, but your actual combat skills and specs lack in comparison, sizably so. You were never much of a fighter and it showed. Yes you could meet Invincible at his level and probably overpass him with a burst of thirst for blood, but an actual Viltrumite?

Despite this, you were good enough for Cecil, so he kept you. Everything cog has a use, and Cecil has gotten really good at seeing which peg a gear can fit in. He's the Global Defense Force Director after all.

#a/n : I hope you liked this, I'm operating on smoke right now I haven't slept since Saturday haha. Forgive me for any grammer/syntax errors charge it to my head not my heart

This turned into something way longer than I thought it would. But you can't stop until the words and you reach this equilibrium of satisfaction. I could go further but then I think I'd fumble it. Better to stop while you're good and come back later yknow

Ok me go sleep sleep **passes out

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger part 20

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother. Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / character sheet / next / next TV

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes.

Peach woke up to the sound of knocking on her door, it was unusual for her to wake after the sun had risen, but as she glanced out the window, she saw it was still rising. That was odd, the knocking wasn’t frantic, so it wasn’t a medical emergency, and it couldn’t be Irene or Telemachus. Neither of them woke up so early, most of the time it was actually a fight to get them up and at it in the morning. Whoever was at her door was not one of her friends.

Silently she got up and grabbed one of her axes before heading to the door. Normally she would’ve cursed herself out for falling asleep in her good clothes, but this time it worked in her favour. She did not want to face a potential threat in her night clothes. She stopped just short of the door, trying to listen for clues. With the way the sun was rising she could not see who it was through the window, so she was left with one option: open the door.

In front of her stood a man, holding a bouquet of pink, red and white roses and chrysanthemums. The chrysanthemums made sense, as they were currently in bloom, but the roses were odd. But then again, a God could probably get whatever flowers they wanted, whenever they wanted.

“I’m sorry, were you still sleeping? I just thought that, you know, usually you rise with the sun, so I thought you’d be up by now.” The God of tides spoke, sounding rather sheepish. If Ónoma had been less tired, she’d laugh at the bashful state of the God, it felt weird to see him act like this.

“And whatever you had to say couldn’t wait? It had to happen the moment I woke up? Helios isn’t even in the sky yet.” She grumbled, voice groggy from sleep. Ónoma didn’t even have the energy to glare at the man, yesterday’s festivities had taken more out of her than she’d expected, especially with her rest being cut short.

“As if you’d still be home after dawn.” He scoffed but gave her a faint smile. “I know you’ve been avoiding me, but I do not accept it. We will speak.” He said, firmly.

“Alright, come in.”

The two sat in silence for what felt like ages. Ónoma’s already lacking patience was wearing thin. He’d pestered her all hours of the noght until she was forced to leave her home. Now that she was finally back home he was there again, at the ass crack of dawn, but now, when she was finally ready to hear him out, he said nothing. “You came here to talk, so talk.” She glared at him again, just to show her disdain.

“Will you put down that damned axe? If I was going to do something, I would’ve done it already. Besides, do you really think a little axe would stop me?”

“You were stabbed 600 times with your own trident, I think my little axe would work perfectly fine.” She deadpanned. Poseidon sucked his teeth at the mortals statement. She wasn’t wrong, but she didn't have to say it out loud. Ónoma chuckled at the man’s annoyance. If he was going to force her to listen, she was going to be as difficult as she could possibly be.

“Look, I didn’t mean to decieve you, alright-”

“But you did.” She interrupted.

“Just let me finish, you-”

“Alright, I’ll let you talk.”

Poseidon inhaled deeply before continuing, he was fed up with her petty behaviour, but it was also exactly what he liked about her. “I was embarrased, alright.” It took a lot out of the God to admit that. “I was bested by a mortal, one weak with hunger and years spent at sea- He should not have been able to do that, even worse is that I was unable to heal myself. I should’ve recovered by the time I reached the shore, but I hadn’t and then you found me.” He sighed and looked at her with an expression she could not decipher.

“You showed me great kindness, you had no reason to, but you did. You were rude, too, you challanged me in ways no woman, no mortal has before and by the time I realized I should have told you the truth, it was too late. I should not have gone to that party and let you find out that way. It was inevitable that I would run into him, but if I’d declined the offer I would have pissed off my brother, and I did not want him to find out about, you know, that.

Maybe I’d hoped that my disguise would fool him just enough, but he just knew. Perhaps that’s why my niece is so fond of him.” He chuckled at that.

“All of that explains it, but it doesn’t change what happened. You took me for a fool, do you know what this could’ve meant for me if anyone else found out? If Odysseus was not as kind as he is? For you it may have been just a kiss, not unlike others you’ve shared, but for me it could have meant ruin. Do you understand that? Because I need you to understand that.” She stressed.

“I would not have allowed that.” He stated.

“How was I to know that? I do not have a good track record with Gods, it was not unreasonable for me to think that. Besides, you have expressed no regret for almost ruining my life, so-”

“Because I don’t regret it, kissing you, I mean. I regret that it could have led to harm, but I do not regret what we share, shared. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I am sorry that I did, but I’m not sorry for loving you.”

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