#it actually makes me so emotional to think about

[moonstruckme]

Hello there! I was wondering if you would be willing to write a request that I thought up? No pressure of course. I'd love to read your rendition of it but if you don't want to that is absolutely and of course fine.

So I am a pretty emotional person, and especially when I am pmsing or on my period its a very common sight for me to be silently crying over a sad reel or a photo of a puppy or sobbing loudly if I re-read my comfort angsty fic. I really crave physical affection and coddling during my period which sucks cause I live with 2 dormmates who sleep 2 steps away from me and aren't very touchy but are very loving. Like today my friend showed me a photo of her holding a puppy who was nuzzling into her sweatshirt, claws out and hooked in her sleeve and all and ofc I started crying. My other roommate was like don't show it to her she's on her period, she will cry. But then she was like, on second thought do, I enjoy her tears 💀.

On to my actual request now, sorry for rambling 😅

So I was wondering if the reader had a similar tendency with her emotions and hormones around her cycle, how the marauders would deal with it you know? Would they be used to it, asking if its just a leaky faucet to let some emotional pressure out (that happens a lot with me lol) or actual crying. If they would be freaking out no matter how often it happens. Or how they would coddle her.. very curious to see if you pick this up! Thanks for reading nonetheless <3<3

Haha thank you for your request angel <3

cw: reader who menstruates, mention of animals in televion industry, Sirius is not good with tears

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 644 words

You try not to make a spectacle of yourself. You really do. You hide in the corner of the couch, feeling the burn of your sinuses and eventually letting a couple of tears roll down your face without lifting a hand to wipe them. Your throat squeezes. Your temples ache. 

Despite your best efforts, all it takes is one tiny sniffle to get the attention of your boyfriends. 

James’ arm tightens around your shoulders. His cheek squishes into your head, voice heavy with sympathy as you both look at the TV. “I know, angel. It ends alright, though, yeah?” 

“All he does,” you choke out, watching the dog on the screen through blurry vision, “is wait for his owner to come home every day. That’s his whole life.” 

“It’s an advert for dog kibble!” Sirius protests. 

You shrug, weeping, and Sirius gives a short laugh tinged with anxiety. Remus sets a hand on his knee. 

“Sweetheart,” Remus says gently, “I’m sure that in real life, that dog is very well taken care of. He probably gets plenty of attention and time with his owners. He’s famous, right?” 

You nod, though you can’t help a tiny sob as the on-screen dog sits straight up at the sound of a key in the door. “Right.” 

“Right.” Remus gives you a kind look. “You okay? Not upset about anything else?” 

“Yeah.” You sniffle weakly. “M’okay, just. My head hurts.” 

James makes the sort of syrupy pitying sound that has your throat contracting all over again. “Do you think it might be the crying, lovie? It’s not the first time that commercial’s been on today. You could be dehydrated.” 

“I don’t know,” you say, quietly. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ll fetch you a paracetamol and some water to be sure.” Remus stands, patting Sirius’ thigh consolingly when the other boy shifts off his lap with the movement. He touches the top of your head as he walks behind the couch, and James kisses the spot as though to second it. 

“Baby.” Sirius turns to you with a stern look. “First the Lorax last night, and now this? The ad’s not even on anymore; it’s finished.” 

“It’s just…” You swallow, fighting to keep your voice solid. “Do you think all pets feel like that? When their people leave to go to work?” 

“No, honey,” James consoles you. “I think they’re happy to amuse themselves while we’re gone.” 

“They’re perfectly fine,” says Sirius, not unkindly. “Stop crying.” 

“Don’t be mean.” James gathers you closer. “She’s on her period, she’s entitled to some crying.”

“It’s like the hiccups, James. You’ve got to scare it off.” 

“That’s barbaric.” 

“What’s barbaric is the television industry that keeps making our girlfriend burst into tears at random points in the day!” 

“You guys.” You’re nearly laughing now. With tears still wet on your cheeks, Sirius hardly looks comforted. “Don’t fight.” 

“We’re not fighting.” James is quick to mollify you. 

“Oh, dovey.” Remus returns with your painkillers, bending to wipe your face with a put upon frown. “Are they upsetting you?” 

“God, no.” Sirius reclines back against the cushions, blowing a breath up towards the ceiling. “What chance have we of doing that, when there’s wealthy dog actors to do it for us?” 

You take the water Remus has brought you, downing the painkiller. “Do you really think the dog gets decent money from the advert?” you ask as he pets your hair dotingly. 

James ponders this. “Even if it’s not very much, I’d bet his owners put as much of it back into him as they can. He probably sleeps on a memory foam dog bed.” 

Sirius is watching your face distressedly. “Baby,” he nearly pleads. “It’s okay.” 

“No, that’s good,” you manage, voice a quiet squeak as your eyes fill again. “I just think that’s a really nice life for him. He deserves it.” 

[floraisunwell]

Promise | s.r

who? post-prison!reid x ex gf reader (she's a nurse)

category: angst (bold move ig)

summary: Spencer left you 5 months ago without a word for undisclosed reasons but he comes teary eyed to your door after seeing a girl that looks a little too much like you.

based on (very loosely lol): promise by laufey. the fic does not follow the events of the song at all but i love the "if it weren't for the sight of a boy who looked just like you standing out on Melrose avenue" part right at the end so it's all on that line.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: my first fic ahhhhhhh, i'm so nervous and happy rn, this is my baby and ik there's a lot of space for improvement but i'm proud of my writing, this comunnity is full of amazing people and if it wasn't such a lovely space i would have never posted this. shoutout to @lilacsandlavenderhaze for being the first to hear my idea and telling me i should go ahead and write it; @spencersbabymama for telling me to cut the bullshit and self deprecation and post this; and to @esote-rika for being my first readerrrr. love y'all <3

dividers by @aquazero

English is not my first language pls tell me about any spelling and grammatical mistakes. enjoyy!

The air was cold and crisp, a light drizzle could be felt dampening the streets – a scene typical for this time of the year in Washington. Spencer had gone out with the team to get some drinks after a hard but successful case, he was happy, of course, the fact that they had caught the killer pleased him but everything inside the building felt overwhelming: the voices, and the drunk conversations, all the limbs touching a little too much, the overly loud music. He was out of it and to be honest he had been out of it for quite some time now, actually some months, everyone noticed how the breakup made him feel.

Funny, because he was the one to leave.

After you came back from a long shift at the hospital excited to cuddle with the love of your life (or so you thought) but the only remnant of him you found was a sticky note placed on the cover of a book you were reading at the time:

"I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore"

That was all he said before destroying everything you two had built over 3 years, 3 years of love, pain, and learning, 3 years of giving everything for each other, destroyed in less than 24 hours like nothing.

He hadn't been the same for a long time, though—not since prison. You didn't blame him; you tried to understand him, give him space, time, and everything one could need to heal. He was not the same, of course. You weren't expecting the same Spencer to come back, sure, but you also were not expecting whoever he had become: some cold and distant version of the person you used to know.

Your relationship with Spencer is divided into two eras: Before Millburn and After Millburn.

Before Millburn, you guys were somewhat happy. Both of you were overworked and stressed but happy. You would tell him about your work, and he would tell you about his. In the rare times, he got a day off work, he would hug you whenever he could, like he was making sure you wouldn't slip away.

After Millburn, you didn't talk much, not unless it was necessary, he didn't hug you a lot anymore, in fact, the last time he hugged you was when you went to pick him up at the correctional facility, all the emotions running high, you remember thinking he looked and smelled different, you didn't know he would be so different when you wrapped him in your arms, placed a kiss on his shoulder and whispered that everything would be fine. But everything was not fine. It was all so not fine and everyone around you two could tell. Yet you could have never imagined that Spencer, the man who made the hopeless romantic in you thrive would leave in such a disheartening way.

Back at O’Keeffe’s, the team was still at it. The count of how many rounds of drinks Rossi had paid long lost, Emily and JJ leaning suspiciously close to each other, Rossi nursing some unnecessarily extravagant drink, Garcia and Morgan somewhere on the dance floor and Hotch nowhere to be seen. Spencer had gone outside, hoping the sensory overload would ease with the fresh air, it did slightly but the agglomerate of people was no better than the one inside, so many people, reeking of alcohol, walking like zombies, and saying nonsensical things. As he was standing near the entrance, hands stuffed into his pockets, the soft rain dampening his hair, Spencer let his mind wander and it ended up where it always does: him contemplating if leaving was the right decision.

He was so deep in this thought that didn't even notice the man approaching until it happened- a hard shoulder bump that took him away from his thoughts.

"Sorry dude" the man muttered not even caring to glance back as he moved past. Spencer blinked, shocked as he watched the man move swiftly toward a small group of people nearby. A group that included you.

His heart jumped to his mouth. No - not you. But she looked like you, uncannily so. She even acted like you, the way she threw her back when she laughed or how she scrunched her nose in an attempt to put her sliding glasses in place - he could've sworn it was you.

For a fraction of a minute, he actually thought it was you. His breath caught in his throat and he took a step forward before reality sank in and he retreated. It wasn't you; it was never you.

But as he watched her wrapping her arms around the man's neck, as his hands almost automatically moved to her waist, and they both smiled like idiots in love. He couldn't help but feel like he had been stabbed and the knife was being twisted inside him. Was this some type of fucked up joke by the universe? "This could be you, bad thing you lost her" The thing is, he didn't lose you- he gave up on you which was worse because maybe if he had stayed, and tried a little harder, you would still be together.

He staggered back a few steps, and if he hadn't reached the wall, he would've fallen considering he already felt his knees buckle as all the bottled-up emotions from the past five months came crashing onto him; he was overwhelmed by his own feelings, eyes blurry with tears as a lump formed in his throat and the weight on his chest got heavier.

Blindly, almost unconsciously, he reached for his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. His thumb hovered above your name in the contacts list. The message he typed was brief:

"Are you home?"

He didn't get a reply, he wasn't waiting for one. The moment he hit send his legs were already moving, practically running towards the street to hail a cab. He gave the driver your address, and it came out of his mouth easily, as if he had never stopped saying it.

You were in the shower when his message came through, you didn't pay the loud notification much attention, not even caring to glance at the device when you heard the familiar ding. You prioritized the small occasions you got to take care of yourself when your job is to take care of others.

Now freshly showered and in the kitchen making tea- the next step on your little routine- you hear a knock on the door, a distinct knock, a knock you could never forget, not even a billion years from now. Your heart stopped for a moment, heartbeat pounding in your ears, you didn't quite register you were moving towards the door until it was open and he was standing there, his brown eyes open wide once he registered your presence, reacting as though you opening the door was the last thing he expected. You just stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other until Spencer wrapped you in his arms like he used to, his nostrils flooding with the smell of your shampoo and body wash, smells he recognized all too well, smells that felt like home.

You pushed him away, shattering the brief feeling of happiness he had started to feel.

"What are you doing here?" You asked almost a little too loud in an attempt to hide the hurt in your voice

"I miss you" he replied eyes searching for yours.

You stood there, arms folded, trying to hide how weak those words made you feel. He had no right to miss you, not after leaving the way he did.

Why should I care? You thought to yourself. He made it clear that he didn’t care about you, but you cared, you cared so deeply that it made your heart ache.

You were not going to let him in.

"You can't just stop talking to me and then come here like nothing happened, Spence." You couldn't help using the nickname, your voice falsely steady, trying to hide the pain.

"I know, I just-can I come in?" No reply "Please"

You hesitated, gripping the door handle tighter as a tornado of emotions swirled on your chest. Anger. Hurt. Loneliness. You wanted to slam the door in his face, make him feel a small fraction of what you felt over the past 5 months. But buried beneath all these harsh feelings, there was something softer, something you felt ashamed to acknowledge: the echo of all the nights you stayed up worrying about him and what could happen in his work, all the mornings you woke up without the smell of coffee lingering through the apartment.

You let him in.

You tried to convince yourself that letting him in was about answers- you deserved an explanation, some sort of closure at least. But as you stepped aside and watched him walk past you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

Because no matter how much he’d hurt you, part of you still longed for the man he used to be.

“This doesn’t change anything.” You muttered, as much to yourself as to him. He gave a slight nod in reply, eyes watering. Damn him and his big brown eyes.

 As you were turning around after closing the door behind you, he captured you in a hug again and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him too.

★

Somehow, he ended up asleep in your bed and as you gaze at his peaceful resting face, your mind tells you to wake him up, tell him to go home and never come back, tell him that he doesn't get to leave and reappear whenever it suits him, tell him that he can fuck off for breaking your heart like that. Yet, you don't do any of that, because your heart tells you not to.

tysm for reading, likes and reblogs are always deeply appreciated

@angellic4l it's finally here bestieee!

[insomniadreamzz]

Hey, how are you? I wanted to request G!P Jinx x Reader. Imagine that the reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they have unprotected sex and then Jinx gets the reader pregnant? Something like the reader being afraid to tell Jinx and she freaks out about it and stuff like that… Could there also be smut at the end and fluff too? Please, I've never seen that around here 😮‍💨

Helloo! Thank you I am perfectly fine. Today is my birthday and I am actually busy but I LOVE this request so I had to write it down today 👀

———

My everything

G!P Jinx x Fem!Reader

Smut, mentions of pregnancy, fluff

The last days you felt kinda off, your emotions were like a rollercoaster and you got more sensitive. Jinx realised this too, making her feel a little worried about you. Since she had mental issues herself, she always questioned if she did something wrong, making the situation between you both get a little more complicated.

„Is everything okay my love? It’s your third plate of food today. I don’t mind it at all but…I am worried if something is bothering you. You know you can tell me anything right? You do trust me do you?“ Jinx asked as you were about to finish your food, your gaze moving up to look at her, a little smile on your face. „Of course I do trust you. You are my girlfriend after all. I just feel more hungry than usual these days, nothing to worry about.“ You tried to reassure her but she felt something was still off.

The next days your behavior went on, you also felt nauseous out of nowhere which made you realise that you might be pregnant. Last time you and Jinx got intimate you didn’t use protection which was a little silly of both of you but to be honest you didn’t really realise she would get you pregnant that fast. Whatever…if it was true and you carried her child, how to tell her? You suddenly worried about her reaction, close to panic but before your mind will make you freak out you decided to make a test first and then you will have to figure something out.

Thankfully Jinx wasn’t in her hideout today, she went out to probably blow something up again. You always had to worry about her when she wasn’t around but right now you were glad she wasn’t home so you could do the test without her knowing and just how you thought, it was positive. „Fuck…“ You cursed under your breath, feeling a little overwhelmed. Of course you were happy since having a family with your girlfriend was your biggest dream. But so sudden? It just made you think about a lot of stuff like are you even ready for it? Is Jinx ready for it? Will she be happy? Or will she be upset? You didn’t know since you never talked about that topic before.

One thing was clear. You had to tell her. Jinx already blamed herself for not treating you right anymore to explain your behavior. You noticed her anxiety getting worse these days but now you had a valid explanation for your latest behavior. Maybe that would calm her down and stop blaming herself?

There was not much time of thinking about how to explain to Jinx as you heard her walking into the hideout, a happy smile on her face as she catched your sight, you quickly hiding the test behind your back, wishing you already removed it and didn’t stare at it all the time while having a little discussion with your own mind about the result. „Hey toots!!“ She said with her usual wuirky behaviour you loved so much but she did notice you hid something behind your back. „What ya hiding there?“ She asked and you began to blush deeply, not being able to find the right words or to speak at all. „I-…“ You started but she cut you off by snatching it out of your hand. Why did you hide it anyways? You knew Jinx was too fast for you to even react when she tried to get it out your hands.

Her eyes widened when she saw what you were hiding, not knowing how to react. You bit down on your own lower lip, feeling nervous, scared she would be upset. „You are…“ She started, looking into your eyes with a soft gaze, you only nod in response which was enough for the blue haired girl to freak out but in a positive way. „Oh my god! My girl is pregnant!“ She squealed, being all jumpy and giggly, talking to herself about all the things she wants to do and build as she paced around the hideout before she stopped right in front of you, placing a lot of soft kisses on your lips. „I love you so much!“ She said in between the kisses before pulling back to look into your eyes again, you felt so relieved. „Jinx…are you happy?“ You asked just in case as if her reaction wasn’t enough. „Are you kidding me?! I am! I am the happiest my love!“ She reassured you, taking your hands in hers as she gently rubbed them with her thumbs. „I-I know I am chaotic and I know the things I do are weird and dangerous, making me question if I can do this right but…but I want it! I wanna take care of you both and make sure you will always feel loved.“

Her words made you feel so soft. You didn’t expect her to be this passionate about that topic but you loved it. You loved her. Her eyes got a little watery, the more she realised it, the more emotional she got. „I-I thought I did something wrong. I thought you stopped loving me but…but the real reason you behaved like this…it’s such a beautiful reason.“ Jinx voice was very soft and a little shaky as she let tears of happiness run down her cheeks and so did you. You couldn’t hold back your own emotions anymore as well, feeling so happy as well that she wasn’t upset about it. „I could never stop loving you…how could you even think that?“ You asked but in return she just kissed you again, this time more deeper and passionately as she made you lay down on your back. Right now she just wanted to feel you and give you her love, her tongue moving inside your mouth, making you gasp softly in return.

Both of you felt aroused by the deep kissing, your hormones being all over the place made you feel hornier than usual so it was obvious you wanted her and you showed it as your hands gently pulled on her pants, making her smirk into the kiss. „Heh…you want me don’t you?“ She hummed and you nodded. „Yes…yes please I need you.“ You almost beg for her to fuck you and of course she won’t deny you.

It didn’t took you long to be all over each other again, her marking your body with kisses and little gentle bites while her cock moved inside of you, her pace being slower than usual, making you chuckle a little. She must do that on purpose which was cute. „Hnn…you know you can go faster do you?“ She looked down at you with a soft gaze, you knew she didn’t want to do anything wrong but you reassured her. Jinx behavior was just so sweet. „Ah…yes I know of course.“ She said but you knew she was being careful now because she knew you were pregnant. After your reassurance she thrusted faster inside of you as she held your hips gently, going deeper as usual, losing herself into the pleasure just like you. Both of you being a moaning mess. „Fuck…I am close…“ She moaned out and you kept her close to you by wrapping your legs around her waist, making sure she won’t pull out. „M-me too…cum inside me please.“ You whined, her hips didn’t stop moving, moaning out loudly when she came and at the same time you reached your orgasm as well, feeling her fill you up with her cum, making both of you feel so good.

Both of you panted softly, her leaning down to kiss you again so lovingly. „You make me the happiest…“ She whispered. „And you make me the happiest.“ You answered with a soft smile, caressing her cheek as you both looked into each others eyes with so much love.

(Fluff bonus)

„Hey that tickles!“ You giggle softly as Jinx painted little hearts and other little cute stuff on your baby bump. „What? You’re my beautiful canvas.“ She teased by sticking her tongue out, a giggle leaving her own lips. She just loved doing these sweet little things with you.

„Who knows maybe our little one will be as creative as you?“ You mentioned, making Jinx smile more. „Maybe who knows?“ She answered before leaning down to place a kiss on your tummy and then nuzzling close to it. „I love both of you so so much you don’t even know…“ Her words so soft, almost like a whisper as she stayed close to you. „And we love you. Always and forever.“ You gently caressed her beautiful blue hair, making her smile as she closed her eyes and eventually feeling your little one kicking for the first time.

[ateezscupid]

drunk sex with san ♡

When San asked you if you wanted to have a few drinks at his apartment, you had no idea what you were in for. You two had been friends for a while, or friends with benefits actually. It was a situation that suited you both just fine. You didn't need the complications of a relationship, not now, not ever. But tonight felt different.

He was sloppily kissing your neck. The both of you had far too many drinks and the room spun like a carnival ride. Whenever you guys would drink together before, it was usually just a casual hook-up, but tonight there was something more urgent about it. It felt more…passionate.

"San," you moan, fingers tangled in his hair as you grind your hips back and forth. His hands grip your waist tightly, guiding you in a delirious dance of pleasure. The alcohol had unleashed something within him, something fierce and primal that you've never quite seen before. His eyes, usually so playful, now burn with a serious intensity that sends a thrill down your spine.

You stopped the movement of your hips, his cock nestled deep inside of you. You both froze for a moment, lost in the intensity of your shared gaze. San's grip tightened, and you felt his breath hot against your skin as he whispered into your ear, "Is this what you want?" The question was loaded, and you knew it wasn't just about the sex.

"You're already inside of me…" You mumble. "Doesn't that answer your question?" San chuckles, his teeth grazing your earlobe before he sucks it into his mouth. The sensation sends a jolt through your body, making your toes curl. You're both drunk on desire and the scent of alcohol lingering on each other's breath.

"Y'know that's not what I meant," San says, his voice thick with emotion, pulling back to look at you again. His eyes are searching, looking for something in yours. You realize he's not just asking for consent; he's asking for something deeper. Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a sudden soberness wash over you.

"San-" You sniffle and pull him into a hug, burying your face into his neck. "I don't…I don't know."

"Baby, please," He mumbles, grabbing your hips and beginning to move them again, his dick sliding in and out of you with a desperation that makes your stomach flip. You can feel his heart racing, his pulse pounding in your ears as he holds you tightly. It's like he's trying to tell you something without words, his movements speaking for him.

"I'm scared," you whimper, the words slipping out of your mouth before you can even think to hold them back.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered, moving your hips with a gentle urgency that seemed to melt your fears away. His kisses grew softer, more tender, as if he was trying to reassure you with every caress of his lips. You felt his breath warm against your neck as he kissed you, his teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin, making you shiver.

"I would never hurt you." You swore you could see hearts in his eyes. "I just want you to be mine. Please." His words were a gentle plea that hit you like a wrecking ball. You felt the walls around your heart cracking, threatening to crumble under the weight of his sincerity.

"Please, princess."

[webzazes]

making this danny phantom teehee ❤️

My family always seemed like the most normal people in the world. But, we're filthy rich. I'm not a fan of it, but it's whatever. At least I have funds for passion projects, and hopefully, in due time, my own greenhouse (I've wanted one for years).

I actually only learned what really made us so successful recently, though. Ever since I was young, I was told over and over again that it was due to an invention, something useful and prominent in everyday life. However, it turns out that we're so wealthy because of black magic.

The thought alone inspired me so much, and I was already into gothic and fantastical things- it practically tripled my obsession. My parents, however, thought I was "too obvious" or "too gloomy" for our happy little family, especially because of my style of dress, but I was dead-set on breaking away from the norm after I learned how, well, not normal we are under wraps.

This made me a loner at school. I was different, and I wasn't a fan of going out of my way for friendships, let alone any unnecessary social interaction. I kept to myself, and became "the weird goth girl". Honestly, I was happy with that.

But, being a loner led me to Danny. And, of course, his friend Tucker. They accepted me- although we did butt heads at times, as is natural. We'd go to Danny's house, hear about his parents' work, and especially, their obsession with ghosts.

As someone getting into the occult, (I was actively training myself with books from our family library) I was interested. Very interested. I knew about souls, zombies, and demons, but not so much about ghosts themselves, the physical representation of a consciousness and soul tied down to Earth.

So, when Danny brought us to his basement to show us the "ghost portal" his parents were working on, I was excited. Really excited. Of course, I didn't let that show, I figured it might be as dumb as all of the other Fenton tech, and I wasn't expecting it to be dangerous, either.

But, when Danny stepped in to try and turn it on, I realized it was, in fact, dangerous. Very much so. The sheer amount of force I felt when the portal opened was almost painful- but never could be as painful as the sight of what happened to Danny because of it. He looked almost burned in places, and practically wilted to the ground.

He was limp. And he didn't look right, either- his hair was a shocking, clear white, and his eyes were green. At the time, I didn't even notice that the protective suit he was wearing had changed. But I could 100 percent tell that he was dead. Stone cold and limp, dead.

Tucker looked to be on the verge of tears, but I didn't care. I had to do something! I could feel some kind of residual energy on Danny's body, and I thought, "a source". A source of power for me to use, something I could heal him with.

Healing was my passion. I've always cared for life. Especially in this instance- Danny wasn't allowed to die. He couldn't die. I don't know what I would've done if he did..

So, in a split second, I was by his side. I was full healer mode, to the point I knew I couldn't let Tucker see my face. If he saw my eyes, well, he certainly wouldn't have been able to forget them any time soon..

I grasped at the energy left on Danny, and I made it mine. My emotions made me strong, determined, and I used that energy to successfully make an offering to Danny's soul. It was like summoning a demon- I'd seen my mom do it before- but more intimate, as I touched his spirit, poured its power into his bloodstream, and pulled at it, as I tied it to his body. I could almost feel the ectoplasm in my hands- and that's when I realized what the residual energy really was. Ectoplasm.

The ghost portal was real.

All in all, the whole process of "fixing" Danny, well.. it felt like nothing. And it really was quick. Thankfully, once I told Tucker that Danny was breathing, he didn't think to question the wait. He said nothing. And I couldn't bring myself to say that Danny was still cold..

So, hurriedly, we took Danny to his room, and told his parents he was tired. We said that he fell asleep while playing games with us. That was it.

That is how it all started.

You always wanted to be a Healer. Unfortunately, your dad was an Necromancer and your mother a Demon Summoner. So your healing was a bit… unconventional to say the least.

[frownyalfred]

Your 'Hal Jordan (derogatory)' tag makes me think about what a passive aggressive Clark would look like who is 1000% jealous and pissed that Hal actually did sleep with Bruce but also knows that he doesn't really have a right to be, so tries to act nonchalant about it.

...the key word being 'tries'

And throughout all of it he would feel so horribly guilty because he's a nice midwestern guy at his core, and even when he's being irritable and sniping back at Hal for no obvious reason, he's beating himself up inside for giving in to those emotions. Because it's not Hal's fault! Hal didn't do anything wrong. Hal doesn't know why Clark is pissed at him and keeps sending him odd, kinda hurt looks when they don't fall into easy camaraderie. But he's a professional, and he's a Lantern on top of that, so it's easy to brush off Superman being pissy with you.

Bruce, though. Bruce notices and calls out that behavior when the last thing Clark wants is attention. Bruce has a working theory but needs confirmation. And Clark's poker face is only good when he's being Superman and not Clark.

[fitzjamesbulletwound]

if you ever wanted to hear my every thought on fitzier you're in luck because here it is! this is extremely long so it's going under the cut and if you read it all, i love you

fitzier- shame, performance, and the freeing ordeal of being known 

oh man okay here we go everyone, if this sucks or is too stupid or too anything feel free to kill me

essentially what i want to try to convey here is that the reason crozier and fitzjames go from enemies to friends to lovers is because they both see each other and see themselves in each other in a way that frightens and compels them, hence the early enmity with a tinge of familiarity and desperation to connect thrown in. with the inevitable evolution of their relationship i really think it becomes about learning to be vulnerable with one another, to give each other space to be who they need to be, both to each other and their subordinates, and finally coming to a point where fitzjames, the most performative insecure character in the story (to me), bares his entire soul to crozier, whose own character development allows him to give james the gift of acceptance and compassion in that moment. i’m not going to go episode by episode like i did with my joplittle post but this is more or less in chronological order with maybe a few exceptions idk i get possessed when i write this stuff

the first scene we’ve got to look at is of course the dinner scene. james is absolutely showboating like no other in this scene but in his body language you can see he isn’t confident at all- fidgeting, gesturing, exaggerating, the voice he tends to put on in early episodes prevalent. but when crozier interrupts him you can see for a split second that james was actually excited to get attention from him until he realizes what he’s saying. in the early episodes james craves crozier’s attention and approval so badly because he knows that crozier doesn’t bullshit and he sees things for what they are and isn’t afraid to voice that either and despite the fact that this sometimes makes james uncomfortable as it is not in line with victorian ideals of emotional expression and masculinity, i think james, given the kind of man he is at the start of the story, craves the recognition of a man who he knows would see everything in him. early early early foreshadowing and story weaving for the cairn scene where he realizes “he can tell this man anything. it is possible”

what i also find fascinating about early james and francis is that they still refer to one another in a very familiar way despite the fact that they openly dislike each other- it’s always first name basis even when they’re arguing. also interesting to note that crozier in the beginning will often call him “fitzjames” in front of others when he’s discussing him when he’s not in the room, but later on he makes sure to always use his proper title when he’s talking about him in front of the men- showing james respect even when he dislikes him. i think he doesn’t understand at the time that james’s familiarity with him is an attempt at respect as well (the whole ‘don’t ever call me francis again’ scene). it might be a stretch but i do get the sense that from the very beginning they both tried at being friendly, even just for the sake of maintaining order in command.

when francis says “here technology still bends the knee to luck james” in ep 1 he says it with almost a mentor-like cadence. like yeah they’re both being a little bitchy here but god knows franklin wasn’t giving fitzjames any real or pertinent advice about surviving and navigating the fucking arctic so i find it interesting that crozier almost gently reminds him that yeah they’re making decent progress but that it would be foolish to let their guard down

one of my favorite early fitzier scenes is after dinner when crozier, franklin, and fitzjames are all on deck and fitzjames like sidles up to crozier and looks him up and down and just goes “goodnight francis” with that smirk on his face- he was trying so hard to flirt with him while also being an insufferable bitch with “try to shake the brown study”. but also james lingers so long waiting for francis to say something to him and then shakes his head and walks away to go bitch to franklin about him- i think he is truly hurt in this instance along with being angry and annoyed. and i love that complication because on one hand, i do think that fitzjames thinks that crozier owes him friendship or at the very least recognition because of who james believes himself to be, or at least who he’s trying to be- like he DOES probably see crozier as being beneath him as an irishman but i do think he genuinely wants his friendship and approval as well, for self serving reasons but not entirely. it’s about fitzjames and his desire to be seen by everyone around him in a certain light but also about his desire to be seen specifically by crozier because of who crozier is and how he acts in contrast to everyone else around them

next on the agenda is “dramatic opening shot”... fitzjames girl you are the most dramatic man in the fucking room. the projection is crazy. what this scene reveals most importantly i think is that another thing about francis that james is secretly very envious of is his ability to openly disagree with franklin. there are so many moments later on where you can see that james doesn’t fully believe in what franklin is saying or commanding (the way he looks at him when they realize they are trapped in the pack, the ways he looks at him when he tells fitzjames to escort silna off of erebus right after her father has died) and i think that he envies francis’s ability to challenge franklin and not care what the consequences are. anyway the staredown during this scene is crazy, the tension??

moving on… beginning of ep 1 crozier says “not if fitzjames is with us” in reference to jop saying dinner will be over before he knows it, and at the beginning of ep 2 fitzjames says “do you think francis will honor us with his presence today”- for two people who allegedly hate each other they sure do think about each other and find reasons to bring each other up in conversation a lot! 

ahh the scene with silna’s father- fitzjames is so interesting to me in this scene and really illustrates one of my favorite things about him in the earlier episodes which is that when he goes silent his face journeys are amazing and really convey his true feelings that he won’t say out loud for various reasons. he watches crozier so much in this scene and looks to him for understanding and guidance which is also interesting because i do think that in this scene he’s watching silna, a woman who he probably sees as subhuman and alien, reacting with such grief and tenderness to her father’s death and probably thinking of his relationship with his own father. i know a lot of people speculate that he was just feeling empathy for her there and i do think that’s part of it but i think that to show that in his mind would be to out himself as being “not fully english”. i think i make this point later on in the story too but fitzjames really does that classic white supremacist thing of distancing yourself from “otherness” in order to align yourself with imperialist beliefs and status- he does it with silna and he does it with crozier. sorry this is also turning into my fitzjames character study lol.

the scene where crozier walks out after his big blow up with franklin… i get that james really didn’t have any place to try to hide the fact that he was eavesdropping but i find it so interesting that he decides to turn to face francis and look him directly in the eye. from what we can see of his expression i personally think there was at least a small amount of sympathy there. another attempt to extend friendship and familiarity while actively participating in crozier’s humiliation… god i hate him lol. and the face that james is making when francis first walks out before he turns around is contemplative, not like smug or triumphant or anything like we might expect given how much he seems to dislike crozier at this point. and francis looking back at him… there’s no anger there, just sadness and humiliation and it sucks. i would truly do anything to be able to see james’s face there, in the script it says that crozier can tell how much james heard from the look on his face which like??? could mean so much.

okay the face journey when francis walks into the erebus wardroom after sir john dies… his eyes stay on fitzjames who’s obviously extremely distraught and i wonder if crozier has ever seen fitzjames show genuine emotion up until this point? crozier then looks to blanky, who also looks to fitzjames almost as if to say “look at him, attend to him” and the sorrow and vulnerability on francis’s face when he looks again to james who is of course also showing a vulnerability we haven’t seen from him before. i love the note in the script that fitzjames isn’t used to being this candid or vulnerable in front of a man he doesn’t respect but he does it anyway. and i don’t think he knows how much sympathy crozier does have for him despite how callous he may come across when he says to send out the rescue parties. they both just fail so spectacularly at communication and expression early on, it’s crazy to see

when francis begins reading from the eulogy and stumbles over his words fitzjames gives him a very sharp look… i think he clocks his alcoholism starting to really affect him right away but may also be looking to see if the stumble is due to emotion or the alcohol. ugh and the look he gives him at the end too… it’s so piercing and there’s an anger to it as well. almost a “please prove me wrong but i don’t believe at this point that you will”. because for better or worse now they are linked, intertwined, married and they have to find a way to make it work.

ohhhh the fitzier dinner scene my beloved… “as i climbed the ridge” is such a parallel to james’s chinese sniper story scene!! AND this time it’s fitzjames who derisively interrupts crozier. The parallels, the callbacks… the look he gives fitzjames is crazy when fitzjames says “you should curb that for now” but what i find the most interesting about this scene is that the script makes a point to say that fitzjames was being sincere when he said that to crozier- there is care and concern there underneath the frustration and anger. and then it’s also wild that in that moment, fitzjames clearly reminds crozier of sophia. the way the narrative almost shifts to replace crozier’s love interest (sophia) with his burgeoning relationship with fitzjames is soooooo. i just love this scene because they are both trying so hard to be vulnerable and open with one another but they are both failing so spectacularly just like in the scene after sir john dies. they don’t have the respect and rapport between them yet to back up what they desperately want from each other- a connection. a camaraderie. leadership and capability. fitzjames tries to be sincere in his concern for francis but it is overshadowed by his frustration and anger towards what he views to be a sour outlook from crozier, and crozier attempts to be vulnerable with james by sharing about sophia only to be met with the knowledge that franklin has humiliated him yet again by discussing that topic with other people aboard the ship. and i think fitzjames does truly pity francis in that moment but it also frustrates him that that is the reason he’s here, for love, not for a yearning for adventure or glory- which i would venture to say is why fitzjames is there. fitzjames went on the expedition to prove his worth and francis went for love and they both ended up finding exactly those things from one another i’m dead.

oh and also why the fuck does fitzjames arch his slutty back against the wall when francis walks out of the room like that one scene in hannibal y’all know what i’m talking about. okay and i forgot about the way fitzjames jabs his finger at francis all up in his personal space which is just so unlike him. it is also worth noting that francis doesn’t get angry at this- he actually stills for a second and then continues to tell james what he was going to tell him. again there’s that strange familiarity they have despite the fact that they hate each other at this point. and that’s to say nothing of how they’re sitting in the first place which is so close to each other idk it just seems a little crazy to me?

i also find it so so interesting how james chooses to be honest with francis once he accidentally reveals that franklin discussed the whole sophia thing with him- he could’ve deflected and said like “oh yeah he mentioned it in passing’ or something like that but he chose to tell francis the truth of the conversation! francis really brings out an honest and candid side to james that we don’t see him put on for anyone else and i think it’s because deep down he knows that no matter how shitty, francis is always going to respect being told the truth vs. all of the obfuscating language that is so typical of the time. i think this is also why in the next episode francis insists that everyone leaves after he punches fitzjames and fitzjames is very resigned to it as well- they both know that it’s going to be ugly but they both want to hash out the truth of the situation for better or worse- like yeah they are at each other’s throats and they want the catharsis of screaming at each other because they’re so mad at each other here but i also think they crave honesty and candidness in their interactions- james because he feels like a fake and francis because it’s his nature- but both because it’s what they want from each other. and back to the dinner scene- just another look of genuine hurt from fitzjames when crozier says “keep your pity” plus the whole reason crozier even says that- i don’t think he expects pity from anyone at this point and doesn’t know how to respond to it.

in the scene where fitzjames says they should question silna about the creature crozier makes a point to say he agrees with him- he does this a couple of different times throughout the show and i think it’s a very small but important detail about how even when they aren’t on the best terms he makes sure to show james respect in front of the officers. and like yeah they end up yelling at each other here but i think that’s more james’s grief showing (again he shows emotion in front of/because of francis) and francis’s stress showing as well- that “we’re all exhausted” is very aimed at james but also an attempt to explain his own state of mind. they’re trying!!!!

the lashing scene- i don’t think we’ve ever seen fitzjames actually afraid of crozier but he definitely is here. he’s clenching his hands so hard throughout the whole scene and he keeps glancing at crozier as he allows the lashing to go on and even nervously gulps at one point. i think this along with crozier’s worsening addiction is a huge catalyst for where we find them and their dynamic in ep 5.

and speaking of which- at the beginning of the episode you can really see how their communication has just completely broken down. edward is basically bridging the gap between them and the resentment is growing. i know that the alcoholism is part of it, we can only assume that fitzjames started to keep his distance once he could tell it was getting bad, but i also think a lot of this is fall out from the lashing and how it affected the way fitzjames felt about crozier as stated earlier. and another aspect of the widening gap between fitzjames and crozier is how erebus is the very picture of order while terror is literally and figuratively falling apart 

the fact that fitzjames told collins to watch out for crozier running out of alcohol on terror is further evidence that fitzjames was around a bit to witness crozier’s alcoholism getting really bad and isolated himself after that. he’s angry but he knows it was coming

ugh man the fight scene- the fact that james came himself, alone, to terror to talk to francis as a friend (straight from his own mouth in the script of their argument) about the alcohol issue. even though james is furious and stressed and shouldering the whole expedition, he still attempts to care for francis, it just ends up blowing up in his face and that’s when he lashes out. the way he says “francis” at first before crozier freaks out on him is in such a sincere and gentle tone and just the fucking genuine hurt in his face and his tone of voice when francis tells him to never call him by his first name again. fitzjames cared when francis was at his fucking lowest but still held him responsible and that’s love baby.

the body language is crazy when they’re yelling at each other or i guess when fitzjames is reading francis lol- and the way crozier can’t take his eyes off fitzjames when he’s telling everyone to get out. he’s so ready for this fucking throw down because both of them have been holding this in for so long. crozier is amped up but fitzjames is resigned to finally getting it all out in the open. he wants it to happen and he knows it needs to. even after getting punched in the mouth by him (i don’t think it’s any accident that fitzjames literally bears a scar from that punch and that it comes back open when he’s dying of scurvy) fitzjames still calmly tells everyone yes get out and says what he needs to say. i love the transcript of their argument because it’s so brutal but it really illustrates a kind of fucked up intimacy that we aren’t 100% privy to between them. crozier knows exactly what to say to james to hurt him- telling him he doesn’t have friends, he has admirers and that james has always been mad that he isn’t one, that james is a coward despite the fact that james is facing this down no matter what it takes in order to literally save crozier’s life; and james knows that all he can do is soldier through and lay the truth of what is happening on francis in a way no one else has dared to except for silna minutes before. james really goes out of his comfort zone- being honest and sincere and vulnerable for the sake of the expedition but also for francis. and i’m reading this back and wondering if i’m being too generous to james here but tbh he had every right to be this angry at francis at this point in the story! 

ha fitzjames walks into the “i need to dry out meeting” looking all submissive and contrite… but for real his face is so open and entreating in this scene. he’s still annoyed but he wants so badly for things to go right. and you can see in francis’s expression that he is so ashamed to have to ask him 

mmm and part of fitzjames coming to love and respect crozier is seeing jopson’s devotion to him in this scene… he’s never seen crozier be admired the way franklin was and i think this is a whole new way for him to see him. and just in general here i think that james “reshuffles everything he thought about the man” and he admires crozier for the way he put his humility and vulnerability in front of him finally and admitted to his wrongs, something i also don’t think franklin would ever do and didn’t ever do, to his and the entire crew’s demise. fitzjames followed franklin and looked up to him in the pursuit of his own vanity and the narrative he tells himself to cover the shame, but he learns to respect and love francis because he watches his evolution as a captain and as a man without any of the obfuscating that he’s used to from authority figures. he watches francis claw his way out of his own shame, the shame that drives him forward and i wonder what kind of ideas that gave fitzjames and how it influenced his own decision to share everything about his past with francis later

what i love about the opening scene of ep 6 is that we see how fitzjames’s leadership has been influenced by franklin and francis but specifically how he is acting more like francis- he does do a little bit of the whole “how dare you bring up anything unpleasant” thing when he yells at jirv for mentioning the number of men and when he does the whole “oh it’s just winter, we’ll feel better with the first sunrise, encourage the men with that” thing but it’s interesting because although we’re hearing echoes of franklin here, fitzjames is still trying to be more honest and open to feedback than franklin was. he doesn’t exactly take jirv’s advice on rationing but he does ration a bit. he is doing the whole toxic positivity thing with his “use that to encourage the men” line but he is also recognizing how hard everything has been for everyone and using an actual tangible event to lift spirits rather than referring to meaningless bullshit about god and country. and the simple fact that he seeks blanky’s advice and knowledge is more than sir john would ever have done in a scenario like this. he understands from blanky’s story about ross that he himself hasn’t been doing enough to combat the horror of their situation for the men, he understands that he must do more. even the way he asks ‘what do you mean’ when blanky says ross had no sympathy for the ill. to not care for the ill is an alien concept to him. tt’s so interesting because fitzjames occupies a space not dissimilar to francis’s- he has access and power in the hierarchy of the discovery service but, within his own mind, he is still an outsider. crozier on the other hand is a visible and tangible outsider due to his birth and his nationality. everyone can see it and i think that’s also part of why fitzjames is so antagonistic towards francis in the beginning- the projection goes crazy and in the true spirit of colonialism and white supremacy, james believes that if he can make himself as far apart from someone like francis as possible and align himself with men like franklin and barrow despite sharing way more similarities with francis than he does with them, he can succeed in upholding himself as the vision of victorian masculinity and social worthiness that he so desperately tries to emulate- this is what i was thinking about during the scene with silna’s father where he’s reluctant to fully show his (partial) sympathy to her

the line from the script that kills me is when it says a clock has begun for fitzjames once he discovers the blood in his hair… god it kills me, he knew he was dying for months. for literal months and who knows if he even told anyone but… i do think he had to have told francis at some point. it makes me so sick, it’s literally why the cairn walk scene happens- he knew he was dying, he knew it and one of the last things he wanted before he died was for someone to see him, truly see him flaws and mistakes and vanity and all before he died. and he wanted that person to be francis

gotta include the scene where james tells edward that francis was right about walking out- this is a huge turning point from ep 1

it’s so funny that when crozier and fitzjames see each other at carnival you can tell james is like “oh shit i’m in trouble” but crozier is just slightly amused seeing him like that and even though he finds the carnival strange and sees how reckless it was, he doesn’t chide james or the men about it even though that’s cleary what james is expecting. crozier empathizes with their longing for home and their need to do something happy and uses that momentum to tell the men about walking out and doing his best to reassure them about their chances. the way fitzjames looks up at him and nods along with him- i don’t think we’ve seen fitzjames look at him like that yet up until this point. he is seeing francis for who he can be as a competent captain and we are seeing crozier really step into that role. i also think that francis was relieved that fitzjames saw the urgency in walking out and that he wasn’t going to have to convince him the way he would’ve had to convince franklin. their leadership is finally syncing up here, built on humility (francis admitting he had an addiction and choosing to do something about it, fitzjames admitting how wrong he was about francis and his use of caution and logic) and respect (i do think crozier respected fitzjames for trying to build morale to the best of his ability and i think fitzjames respected francis finally behaving like the captain he needed him to be) 

during the fire there’s a small moment where james is frozen- no doubt from ptsd which he deserves- and francis sends him ahead to look for an exit, telling him to go. he fucking loves him!!!!

poor fitzjames.. like yes the ghosts of his colonial past and all that of course which i will never not fully support him being subjected to but damn. and i don’t think he shrugs francis off because it’s francis or because he’s angry with them, he is punishing himself and francis sees that and lets him do what will help ease his own guilt and pain. tt is a moment of understanding between them i believe- fitzjames showing vulnerability in front of a man he now respects while adding another failure to his own personal checklist he keeps against himself (i can only imagine he does anyway). francis’s attempt to show him care and understanding while not undercutting his usefulness is also such an inspired choice for what he knows of fitzjames. you can really see the care starting to sprout between them here. i can only imagine what the rest of the winter was like but i feel like by episode 7, their dynamic has just completely changed, their entire vibe is different. and their love couldn’t have happened until they left the ships so it came at the worst and best time. 

and by ep 7 their dynamic has just so completely shifted. even the fact that they are supervising the packing for the walk together and this may be real delusional hours but sending edward ahead to make the first camp instead of one of them going is a little interesting to me. i believe he’s technically the next in line for leadership after fitzjames but like did francis and james want to spend time together? with crozier finally dried out and knowing james’s time is almost up? them finally in a comfortable and friendly place? i love their conversation during the packing scene because fitzjames is voicing a concern to francis who calmly explains his reasoning and when fitzjames continues to press his own doubts they remain civil, familiar, acknowledge one another’s thought processes etc. a scene like this could NEVER have happened in episode 1 or 2. i looooong to know what they were like together during the winter after carnival 

you all know i am INSANE about the fitzier hand holding scene, no one can match my freak on this. tt makes my stomach flutter every time i see it. it is my pride and prejudice hand clenching scene. first i want to acknowledge the quote from the script- “at one point, the only thing keeping fitzjames from sliding back into oblivion is crozier’s hand, but half the importance about the act is that fitzjames reached for it.” this KILLS me more than anything else from the script. and honestly at this point in the story i am becoming convinced that james told crozier about the scurvy, they knew the whole fucking time, they knew. they are literally marching to their deaths, against all odds still going, still trying and they are falling in love. the way james gazes up at francis in awe when he sees the offered hand and doesn’t stop looking at francis when he is up on the ridge. crozier doesn’t even turn to look at james, but he does make sure to stop and wait for him and extend the hand that he knows that james needs. Based on honestly even just this alone i am convinced that crozier knew about the scurvy already. there’s no fucking way he didn’t. and then the way james grabs francis’s jacket and holds on while they stare at each other, crozier smiling- it’s so interesting to me because it very much tells of finding an excuse to touch crozier again, as if he was so in awe of the touch that crozier initiated a few minutes before that he needed it again. he was trying to find a way to touch him again in that “this has to be acceptable by victorian standards of emotional and loving expression” way. and crozier accepts it! he smiles, he meets his gaze. there’s triumph there. and don’t think i didn’t fucking notice that the hand that francis keeps is the hand that held fitzjames’s hand and that also held his face when he was dying.

in the scene with morfin, as soon as crozier notices that james is there he makes sure to maneuver over to james so he can place himself between james and the gun despite the fact that he is unarmed and james has his pistol with him. i don’t necessarily doubt that francis would do this earlier in the story but i can say that he does this here as a selfless act of love and protection 

and then the jop promotion scene yay the way james looks at francis with admiration and curiosity when he hands him the promotion letter to sign and the way james smiles at him when he reads it but not just because of that- but because of the words francis uses and the way francis is looking at him, saying someone “has earned our respect (looks to james), trust” and fitzjames smiles and nods- it’s not just about agreeing with him about jopson. this is how fitzjames feels about crozier now and the fact that crozier even in this small subtle way acknowledges that he  DID need to prove himself to james after his behavior during the winter. their dynamic is just so much different now! at the end when everyone is shaking jopson’s hand, fitzjames gives crozier like… the most insane loving soft look… he looks so so happy. i don’t think we’ve ever seen him look like that before.

and now we are at the cairn walk. i again have to say how during this rewatch i become convinced of the knowledge that crozier has to know that fitzjames is dying. there’s just no way he doesn’t. the conversation they have about it does not convey that james is telling him this for the first time. tt more so implies that they both know but don’t speak of it often and james is updating francis with the vital information, the stages he’s at. what made fitzier happen was them leaving the boats, james dying, crozier getting sober, them both laying it all out on the table in different moments of vulnerability- crozier with his addiction, james with his heritage. the way those scenes parallel each other is actually crazy. james is fucking dying, they are all marching to their deaths and the knowledge that they are doing so is slowly sinking in, and all james wanted before he died was for crozier to see him, all of him. even the parts he was afraid to tell anyone, even himself. and francis isn’t even granting him a mercy, he isn’t sparing his feelings. he truly and genuinely accepts james for who he is, how he came to be a part of the expedition. they have both known from the start that beginnings and heritage don’t matter, it’s the actions that people take that makes them who they are. in different ways they both knew that and i think it’s part of what aligned them eventually. and from the script- james realizes he can say anything to this man. it is possible. crozier gives him the space to do it. and just the way they’re laughing and joking and being light with each other- another thing we never would’ve seen in the earlier episodes. okay focusing on some details now- when crozier says “that’s not how i see you” james literally stumbles as if he can’t believe crozier would say that to him. in the beginning of the scene francis gives james space and privacy when he sees him getting emotional about graham and franklin’s deaths and struggling to remember the date of sir john’s death. they communicate with a single glance there, james asking for a moment and crozier giving it to him. the grief on francis’s face when james tells him his latest symptoms. when crozier initially tries to comfort and encourage james… and james can’t accept it because he hasn’t told him everything yet. he doesn’t know if he can. i don’t want to get personal but that feeling that if you only tell part of your hidden sorrow to someone and they comfort and accept you and show you kindness, that feeling you then get that no no no you don’t know the whole of it and if you did you wouldn’t be showing me this kindness, you wouldn’t love me, you wouldn’t respect me. you wouldn’t see me. i genuinely can’t imagine the relief that fitzjames felt when he told francis it all, he told him everything and all francis gave back was love. also we can finally start to really see the bruise that francis gave fitzjames in ep 5. i love when fitzjames literally and metaphorically closes the gap between them. and francis waits for him until he is by his side again. “are we brothers francis” the tears, the attempt to laugh/smile them away until he sees that crozier is with him in this moment and taking it as seriously as it deserves to be. again the joining of the hands, the one that crozier keeps. they look at each other’s mouths, into each other’s eyes, the way francis dips his head to look at fitzjames when fitzjames ducks his emotionally. it’s insanity

when they get back to camp and listen to hodgson’s story and then go to see jirv’s body, they exchange a lot of glances, specifically around the times that hodgson mentions hickey- they are of one mind on him and on how the situation actually played out. james also watches francis a lot in the scene where they go to see jirv’s body. he looks to him for leadership now and doesn’t become irritated by his anger or his candor. this really persists for the rest of the episode - in the scene where crozier is yelling at edward about supplementing the marines all james has to say is “francis” and then basically talks him down from yelling at edward more, another scene i don’t think could have ever happened between them earlier in the story but james knows how to quell francis now. and this is such an interesting parallel to ep 5 when everyone was taking their shit out on edward; this time fitzjames protects him. but anyway- james and francis are just so in sync in every scene in this episode- they back each other up, communicate through glances, emphasize each other’s words and authority. yay<3 

all right you’re all going to have to bear with me on ep 9 because it makes me crazy.

we gotta start with the fucking grief and pain in both of their expressions when they’re taking care of pocock and how this scene itself foreshadows the assisted suicide later

the look of absolute love and faith from fitzjames when crozier is telling them they will keep marching south and the “more than god loves them” scene- this is francis at his most captainly- and james is echoing his hollow vanity stricken words about franklin but really really meaning them about crozier- he says them to no one but himself, there is no performance here and crozier’s words aren’t a false display of empathy and care like franklin’s were for david young and fitzjames sees this. 

fitzjame and crozier are hauling in front side by side- it makes a point to mention that in the script too.

when fitzjames falls… ugh. he hauled until he couldn’t anymore, direct call back to when blanky said ross sat atop the sledges- oh and when francis and fitzjames were caring for pocock together vs ross having no sympathy for illness. when james falls he reaches for crozier without even looking at him at first and you can hear crozier saying “it’s all right, it’s all right” when james is saying he can’t stand the heat. dundy and bridgens are lifting fitzjames up too but when he stumbles, when he reveals his wound, when he stumbles again, he is only looking at crozier the whole time. and the look on crozier’s face is one i don’t think we’ve seen from him yet. i noticed too that he’s holding onto fitzjames with his left arm and rubbing his back with the other before he takes the rope off of him. 

i want to say about the following scene where james is laid up in the boat that i made a joke once to my friend about when crozier reaches into the boat and how it looks like they’re holding hands- but they actually are, it’s in the script. there’s just something about crozier’s face when he talks to fitzjames in later episodes, there’s such a softening of the edges to him, his expression is less guarded and more attentive and earnest. and the call back to their first scene together with the chinese sniper story…. the fucking fondness in both of their eyes as they laugh together, which was probably james’s last time laughing. when crozier says “there’s time” but that’s the tragedy of this show- there’s never enough time. everything happens too late.

james screaming in pain and crozier running to him and barely letting bridgens finish his sentence before he tells them to camp here also in the script during the officer’s meeting right after, they can hear fitzjames screaming in his tent :( i’m honestly kinda glad they left that out.

and here we are at THE fitzier scene. i could talk for hours about this scene. francis is holding james’s hand, rubbing his shoulder. james looks so young and frail and scared here and he uses some of his last words to tell francis he wanted him to live because he knew he wouldn’t be around to tell him that anymore soon. francis shaking his head when he says it as if to say “not without you”. in the script, when bridgens leaves it says ‘he looks at crozier. he looks at fitzjames. he understands”... and later during james’s funeral when crozier says that he had a service with james, just the two of them, peglar and bridgens exchange a very interesting, knowing look. to choose those two to react that way? idk man. fitzier real. but back to the scene- god okay crozier taps james’s chest twice in question and then just barely audible fitzjames says “please”. ugh the sad smile crozier gives fitzjames before he gives him the drug… then he places his hand, the one that crozier doesn’t lose, so gently and lovingly on james’s face, and even in his current state james looks almost taken aback at the gesture. when crozier tips the drug into his mouth his expression softens. i will never ever in my life forget the way james looks at crozier in that moment, the look of gratitude, love, farewell, of pain, longing, childlike fear. (nobody is doing it like tobias). crozier ever so lightly brushing james’s lips with both of his thumbs before he begins to massage it down and carefully wiping the excess away. they never stop looking at each other. dave k said that the service that crozier mentions happened before fitzjames dies and after crozier gives him the drug.

the last thing i want to say about the james death scene is that i was never that invested in the concept of cannibalism as a metaphor for love but fitzjames asking crozier to eat his body and live really really stuck in my brain- just their entire insane journey that i’ve been sitting here thinking about for months- acquaintances to enemies to allies to friends to lovers for it all to culminate in this final scene of fitzjames begging crozier to eat from his body and begging him to give him the final kiss of death all as crozier never once looks away or lets go of him. fitzjames loved him so much he was willing for crozier to desecrate his corpse if it meant francis would live, even without him next to him but crozier loved him so much that he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t add that act to his already impossibly devoted actions.

and the action of hiding james’s body because crozier doesn’t want tuunbaq to destroy it but then it turns out that someone at the very funeral ends up leading the mutineers to tear fitzjames’s body apart themselves. just like jirv not getting to keep the final gift of the seal meat even in death, crozier couldn’t do james this one last mercy even though he tried desperately to. 

and this last part is a bit of a stretch but okay-along with the shirt and the gloves of fitzjames’s that crozier is wearing after his death i think he might be wearing his little neck thing too, so sorry y’all i do not know what it’s called and i’m locked in trying to finish this and i’m not googling it lol. but we see fitzjames wear it a lot throughout the show and francis does sometimes but it’s very much a fitzjames piece so i think it might be his too. and with the funeral scene and the blanky scene, we see the mismatched gloves clearly for the first time but i’m pretty sure the first glimpse is earlier in the episode when they’re hauling before fitzjames collapses. dave k still confirmed they had switched gloves but it really seems that this happened before james died, likely when they left terror camp. i still contend that crozier and fitzjames both knew james was dying and this may have been why they did it. 

and on to the last episode and closing thoughts- in the last ep i was really keeping track of the gloves- he loses them at some point and i wanted to see when and it’s between the scene where he talks to hickey and when he’s chained back up in the tent with diggle. i hope he somehow hung on to them.

i will never forget how my stomach dropped out when i saw hickey wearing fitzjames’s boots on my first watch- the fucking sorrow in crozier’s face. he doesn’t understand the meaning just yet  but when goodsir is cleaning his wounds and tells him they ate gibson, you can see crozier put it together that that’s why hickey has fitzjames’s boots. his expression turns from shock and grief to rage.

hickey really clocked crozier with the shame comment and you can see how it triggers crozier. this is a great confirmation because it really pervades the story and fitzjames’s story as well. they are both driven by shame, by a need to prove themselves but go about it in completely different ways. fitzjames is all bravado, flowery empty words and boasting to cover his origins, his feelings of inadequacy. he aligns himself with the empire and with those in power and distances himself from anyone he knows will be deemed lesser than in the hierarchy in which he exists and specifically pits himself against someone like crozier in order to bolster his own social standing. crozier on the other hand is hardened to his station, he has no way to hide his nationality or his origins no matter how capable he is and how long he’s been going to sea. crozier feels the shame of things like sophia’s rejection and not having straights that they sail named after him but hides it with his bluntness and his lack of decorum when pointing out the truth of a situation. james has everything crozier wishes he did, but crozier is something that james wishes he could be- just himself, despite his societal ineptitudes and barriers. i believe that this basis and the way it melds and breaks down and comes to a way of understanding between them is why fitzier is so strong, and so real and so visceral, especially at the end. honestly there is so much more i could say but i think i’m going to leave it there and just saw that i hope crozier thinks of james from time to time in his new life. i find it hard to believe he doesn’t.

[the-overanalyst]

i think a perfect example of the way the two kinds of tragedy can intersect is... wait for it... mizu5

for me, reading it while already knowing it would end with mizuki "no longer appearing in the real world" felt kind of watching romeo and juliet with the prologue in mind (dramatic, i know.) the anxiety and tension as constant background noise even during the silly festival scenes. then, in the buildup to the end, they're making their way to the rooftop. you hold your breath because they're so close but you know something has to go wrong. in a random, cruel twist of fate, a classmate calls mizuki away and ena goes to the roof by herself and it's all downhill from there. and you think if only.

(not to mention, by asking the reader if you "still wish to continue," it creates the illusion of choice and makes you feel complicit in her fate)

so it has all the emotional impact of a preventable tragedy, but here's the thing: it was inevitable.

mizuki said it best herself, in the chilling black screen dialogue at the end of the event: "i brought this on myself. i kept running and running. it's because i thought, i might as well have someone else say it for me."

she wanted to tell ena, but only because keeping the secret made her feel like a bad friend, not because she was actually ready for her to know. there wasn't any outcome to that day that she would've really been okay with, even if ena accepted her with kindness, even if nothing about their dynamic appeared to change. she still saw her true self as something monstrous, so she was always going to suffer when that supposed monstrosity became known to those she cared about

i've come to realize there are only two kinds of tragedies: preventable and inevitable. preventable tragedies are the kind where everything could have maybe worked out if only. if only romeo had gotten the second letter. if only juliet had woken up earlier. if only creon had changed his mind about antigone sooner. if only orpheus hadn't turned around.

inevitable tragedies are the kind where everything was always going to end terribly. of course macbeth gets deposed, he murdered his way to the throne. of course oedipus goes mad, he married his own mother. of course achilles dies in the war, he had to fulfill the prophecy in order to avenge his lover.

both kinds have their merits. the first is more emotionally impactful, letting the audience cling to hope until the very end, when it's snatched away all at once leaving nothing but a void. the second is more thematically resonant, tracking an inherent fatal flaw in its hero to a natural and understandable conclusion, making it abundantly clear why everything has to happen the way it does.

[remedyturtles]

16 with pb and j :D

thank you my beloved @bluesgras for the prompt!!! big hugs mate hope you like it :D

wordcount 1.1k, pre-series

16. "You were calling out, in your sleep. You said my name."

The scream cut off as soon as Mikey realized it was coming from his own throat, choking on the sound, hands pushing back against the touch that was shaking him awake. Immediately the touch disengaged, and it was Donnie's voice that said, "You are safe, Angelo. You are having a nightmare."

That made a lot more sense. Pulling ragged breaths through a sore throat, Mikey blinked the stars out of his eyes and hunched over. After a moment, Donnie shuffled and turned the lamp on. The light helped the pulsing terror that sat heavy on his chest. It brought the silhouette of his big brother into the light, the frayed long-sleeve sleep shirt that said 'I identify as a problem' and bare feet against the carpet. No goggles or even mask, looking like he'd just woken up moments ago. 

"I'm sorry." Mikey rasped, swallowing hard. The panic was living inside him, making it hard to think, but he knew that Donnie didn't like to be disturbed. "Did I wake you up?"

Donnie hesitated. Pulling at the end of his sleeve, thumbing the holes there. He said, "You were calling out, in your sleep." 

Mikey winced. "Sorry. Thanks for waking me up. You can go back to bed now."

Donnie didn't. He stood there, then said, "You said my name."

Oh. Mikey's stomach dropped hard and fast as he remembered his dream, and he bit his lip. All the denials fell short before forming, because��� he was really glad that Donnie was here right now, actually. 

Donnie gestured awkwardly to the bed. "Do you want me to join you?"

"You don't have to." Mikey said immediately. 

"If I didn't want to, then I wouldn't offer." Donnie said, promptly. 

That was true. Mikey shuffled over to give him room, tugging the blankets along to keep them separate. Except that Donnie ignored that, reaching over to flap the rumpled blankets over both of their legs. Then he perfectly arranged the pillows to sit up, turning to look at Mikey in the lamp-light. He said, "I don't like the thought that something about me would upset you that much. Tell me what the issue is, and I will fix it."

Mikey gave him a laugh, a little wet, and swiped at his eyes. "You don't upset me, D. Don't worry about it."

Donnie fixed him with a look that would work a lot better with his painted-on brows, but luckily Mikey knew him well enough to fill in the arched incredulity even without them. "Michelangelo, you are my only little brother. I reserve exclusive right to worry about you every minute of the day if I so please. And especially if you are roused in the middle of night with screaming nightmares."

Mikey sniffed miserably, giving his eyes another futile swipe. He wasn't crying so much as all stuffed up and uncomfortable, like he was bloated with unwelcome emotions. "Just because someone's younger doesn't mean they can't worry about their older siblings."

Donnie leaned forward so he was in Mikey's line of sight, and gave a crooked smile. "Heavens, don't you dare be worried about me."

"I can if I want." Mikey insisted, jutting up his chin, but then hesitating. "That wasn't… that wasn't why, though."

"Oh?" Donnie stayed persistently in his line of sight, even ducking his head to keep his gaze when Mikey tipped it downwards. "Do tell."

Mikey struggled with keeping it inside, mouth wobbling, but he'd never been good at holding back. Not when there was always so many sets of hands were right there, waiting to give him whatever he wanted. Safety and security and –

"It was dark." Mikey began, because he hated the dark. Everyone knew that. "And – and I couldn't find my way home. There were monsters and – and they were chasing me – and I … I wanted you to come save me."

Donnie eyes went wide, jaw going slack, and he said, surprised, "Me?"

Mikey nodded, tears welling and irritably swiping at his cheeks again to stop them from falling. He sniffed and said, "I was scared. And I wanted you. And then I woke up and you're here, so I feel better."

"Me?" Donnie said again, weaker. "Not Raph? Not Leo? Not Dad? Me?"

"You're my big brother too." Mikey said, soft. "You just said that."

"Yeah, but there's no way I'm better than –" Donnie cut himself off and shook his head. "Of course I'm an amazing big brother, but for like – fixing your things and reading stories and hiding with you when everyone else is being stupid. Not the one you want when the monster is chasing you."

Mikey headbutted him, somewhere between playful and hard enough to hurt. "Except you are. Are you saying you wouldn't help me if a monster was chasing me?"

"Of course I would." Donnie rubbed his forehead, frowning. "I would absolutely anything I could to protect you. But I am not the most optimal choice for this situation."

Mikey shrugged. "I don't know. My subconscious wanted you."

Donnie bit his lip, looking a little emotional himself. He opened his arms, and Mikey crawled into them without any hesitation. All tight limbs around his big brother, who made him feel so safe, so secure, so loved. 

His grip was strong, and Donnie pressed their heads together. He mumbled in Mikey's ear, "I suppose subconscious knows that you are my precious baby brother and if you call for me, I will come. And I will do everything I can, even if I need to destroy everyone and everything to keep you safe."

"Leo said you're not allowed to do villain monologues past midnight anymore." Mikey said, muffled by Donnie's shirt. 

Donnie's laugh was just a little evil. "Oh, darling Michelangelo. Your faith in me will never be mislaid. I would burn cities and salt the earth for you. I would tear apart the laws of the universe and rewrite new ones at your bidding. I would – stop laughing!"

Mikey couldn't help it, giggling helplessly, clutching the fabric and pressing close for the comfort it provided. His heart swelled with care, that incredibly special kind of care that only Donnie could provide. He said, the tears nearly gone from his voice, all his fears wiped away like chalk off a blackboard, "I love you so so much."

"Mmmm." Donnie hummed against the top of his head, rocking them back and forth slightly, like he was cradling Mikey. It lit something young and safe inside him. "I love you for every single star in the universe."

"How many is that?" Mikey whispered.

"At least two hundred billion-trillion." Donnie replied, instant and smug. 

"Well I love you three hundred billion-trillion." Mikey said.

Donnie gasped, mock-affronted. "Gasp! How could I be so foolish!"

Mikey giggled again, boneless against his big brother, the gentle rock back and forth, the warm blankets, and he was so, so glad he called for Donnie.

[affableramen]

hiii i love ur writing and i have a request. what do u think pantalone would do if reader got a vision? tysm!!!!!

Hi, thanks so much

Actually it is a very complicated situation both in terms of emotions and future interaction of the characters. I think there could be 2 possible scenarios of how this case could develop:

The reader is hiding existence of her Vision for a long time, wanting Pantalone to feel closer and more similar to her in terms of being a loser, unsuccessful and not chosen. Yet she ends up getting a Vision after all.

Potentially it would mean that she is lying to him and sooner or later he will find out about it, as we all know Pantalone is a pure character of wisdom, there is nothing to slip off his fingers. In this case he would call her privately to his office and plan the discussion with cold mindset. He would even make his own lines in his head to not appear agitated (he is very agitated and shaky, but because it is also Pantalone we may not even see it – he is a good example of artless subtlety).

The reason for you to hide your Vision from him is because you would like to make him feel safe and protected, knowing that you are just as desparate and lonely as him. Around you there is a bunch of ‘heroes’, Vision users which make Pantalone most definitely feel like a black sheep. Knowing that you obtained no Vision he found himself comfortable, given the feeling ‘Yes, she is just like me’. After a while this however vanishes, once he learns you actually possess one. He cannot be mad at you, because he realises it is your responsibility to wield one, but he cannot deny how infuriated he becomes because of your lies. In this case I think he needs time and the best you can do for him is just leave him alone for a while before he cools off. He will, for sure, have a long ass conversation with you about why you’d keep it secret from him. In this case you just calmly explain him the situation that you wanted for him to feel better and you to not be the one priveleged.

However if acquiring the Vision was a recent achievement for you and Pantalone discovers it in the real time, he will be extremely shaken as the situation happens right in front of his eyes, and he is the spectator. When it is something that happened before you knew him, it is more likely acceptable for him because he does not hold power over your achievement, however if you get one during a relationship (or simply encounter, let’s imagine the two of you are not necessarily lovers) it will be difficult for him because it is something he could not control.

***

Pantalone was sitting in his headquarters, his hand gripped the glass of whiskey when he called you in. The guards carefully led the way to his private office and shut the door tightly, making room for you and Regrator to have a private conversation.

His fingers gripping the glass were shaking slightly which was definitely ironic, considering how usually composed he was, in front of you included.

As the door was closed you slowly approached his desk but stopped at a reasonable distance as you sensed the cold atmosphere between you two. It felt like Pantalone was not ready at all to let you in closer.

“You got a Vision”, he didn't ask you, rather stated a fact. A fact that raised both panic and frustration in you as you understand how it might affect the relationship between you two.

In all his hundreds of years he never got one, but you received it just in your twenties. His blood must have been boiling.

“I got it just recently.”

His playing with the whiskey glass stopped and he looked at you. The lights reflected the metal of his silver glasses which would only add coolness to the already icy room.

“How did you get it?”

That was the question you feared the most. Yet he already asked you in, and you had no point in lying and keeping things to yourself. You were not currently on good terms exactly and suffered quite an argument however Pantalone still treated you as a valuable asset, with a possible development of you into his official lover. Or at least that’s what you wanted to believe in. You wanted to feel as someone important to him, and it wasn't entirely stupid. It’s just that it was above his icy-cold rationality.

“Actually, after I fought you”, you responded quietly, your voice suddenly breaking, no matter how anxious you were, you felt as if you had to. “I got my Vision after I fought you.”

Pantalone scoffed,

“Wonderful. Amazing. You got what you wanted, didn't you?”

“I do not understand you.”

Pantalone shifted in his seat and finally stood up, he approached you with solid steps.

“Wasn’t it your dream – defeating me? I thought you would feast upon my sufferings. But you seem reluctant to it. What, cat got your tongue?” he would continue mocking you, his face inches away from yours, but his eyes were glassy once he opened them, as if he were crying all night like a teenager after being bullied at school.

“You know it is not like this. I dreamt of Vision, but when I met you, I promised I wouldn’t be seduced by its power.”

“Yes, that’s what you promised. And look at yourself now”, circling over you languidly, Pantalone used an excruciatingly degrading tone. “Now you’re chosen. You’re a hero. And what heroes do? They defeat villains. And that’s exactly what you did.”

“I never wanted this”, you tried to convey some thoughts into his head, to soothe him, but Pantalone immediately became blind to all your opinions. “It is not my fault that the Vision appeared to me. I didn't force it to come.”

“You want me to believe in this bullshit? You used me like a piece of meat to only leave me in shambles and get your little artifact. And now I am nothing in your eyes except for a villainous Harbinger.”

His words hurt and you could not deny it. Your hand softly grazed his fingers, not inviting into a intimate contact but making it enought for him to have shivers down his spine.

“Your tongue is spilling poison, as always, but weren't you mad now, you would never say such things to me. You just need to cool down.” With those, you exited his office, leaving him completely alone with his dark thoughts. But the way you touched his hand was so warm and gentle, he felt as if he needed more of those, and his conflicting thoughts were messing around his mind. He was weaker than this, he wanted you back immediately.

“I did not allow you to leave my office yet”, he spat. “Come back.

You’d ignore him and decisively leave without looking bad knowing that it would be better for him.

“I said come back here you idiot!” He’d scream and run after you, but it was late and made no sense. He fell to his knees, both his traumatic experience and alcohol taking a toll on him. Weak in his legs, he silently started sobbing, his head hanging down as he found himself completely shattered and unable to hold back tears. How could a mere mortal obtain a Vision while he was the one waiting for it for almost 400 years? This is unfair! How is he worse than anyone? How is yourself better than him? Where did he make a mistake? Why is he such a failure? Is he a joke, a mistake of this world?

You thought that once he’d be tranquil again, you’d visit him and make amends, but currently all he could do was accuse you of something you weren't guilty of. However, once the quiet sobs reached out to your ears, you made your way back from the staircase to his office. Upon entering the lavish, elegant decorum of his headquarters you see a not so elegant man sitting on the floor like a pathetic mess. The sight was nothing you would ever expect from him and if such a rational and reserved man acted this way, it would only mean the pain was insufferable. It is stupid, you thought, but you got nothing to lose, as you kneeled down to him and took his hands in yours, the cold leather of his gloves rubbing against your hands as you embraced him, trying to share the heat with his shaking body. And he let you do this, surrendering himself to you as he realised all you ever did for him was caring, not taking. And he had no right to accuse you of obtaining a Vision, no matter how hard it was to his chest.

[melina-mellow]

Natlan review time!

Finished the Natlan AQ and Idk how to explain it but Natlan is the only nation where I grew an attachment to the nation itself rather than any one particular character in general.

One thing I liked about this nation is that despite the fact that like Fontaine, a plan to save the nation was already in place before the Traveler arrived there, however, unlike Fontaine, it didn't make the Traveler's presence feel like a passerby or a member of the audience.

It felt like their decisions and their contributions mattered. That the praise they received by the characters and npcs in Natlan was actually earned rather than glazing the MC just to make players feel important.

I think a consequence of Natlan being so late into the game (second last to Snezhnaya) is that they needed to shove as many answers about Teyvat and start tying all the plot points together to set up the endgame, which lead to not enough time spent on the main cast of characters.

The key theme of "No one fights alone" actually feels like it means something, and they actually live up to that and you get to see the contributions of the other characters, and not just the playable ones in your final fight with the abyss. Makes your victory feel earned.

I feel like people comparing it to Fontaine shouldn't really be doing it. It's not a fair comparison cause Natlan isn't going for the same thing as Fontaine did. They're two different stories, if they just did rehash of Fontaine it'd just be boring.

Natlan didn't reach the emotional highs that Fontaine did, but that's fine because not every nation needs to be an emotional sobfest. It's okay, to have a happy/hopeful ending sometimes.

(Although ngl Capitano's sacrifice got me a little teary eyes. MY GOAT!)

At the end of the day Natlan was about humanity coming together to fight against impossible odds and finding hope to continue fighting for a better tomorrow. Which they succeeded in conveying.

People will call the "power for friendship" thing corny, but imo y'all are just miserable and bitter. Cause fuck what all of you say, cause humans coming together to support each to defeat an godlike entity is hype as hell!

Truly the shounen arc of Genshin Impact.

Overall Natlan's AQs gets a solid 9.5/10 from me.

[summertimesadnessirl]

Except it doesn't work.

This is actually a key concept in patriarchy!

Women are intended to serve as the civilizing force.

The morality police.

The moral compass.

Women allow, men test.

Men who are in the patriarchy will consistently value the opinions of their male friends and prioritize male friendship groups, their hierarchy, and their bonding rituals over the women in their lives while also consistently laying the responsibility for fixing the emotional wounds caused by those friendships.

The form that most abuse from patriarchal men takes is specifically either mobbing women by repeatedly exposing them to the same messaging over and over by groups of men or guilting women into thinking that they are being unreasonable or too demanding or that life is actually too hard for them.

It's not that men's lives aren't hard.

It's that when those men talk, all the complaints consistently circle back to the idea that the reason being a man is hard is that women will not take pity on them and consent to sex they don't want or relationships they're not interested in just to make them feel better.

The sense of aggrieved entitlement serves to shift the blame on women for speaking out about the things that they have experienced, or create the narrative that the job of society is to make ways to trick women into sex or relationships that they don't want in order to prevent depression, neuroticism, anti social behavior, etc. In men.

This isn't a secret. It's literally a verbatim narrative that men circulate in covert ways. The male loneliness epidemic is radicalizing young men. Not to volunteer at nursing homes or animal shelters. Not to call for more mental health support. Not to call for more paid time off so that the average person can spend more time with their loved ones. Specifically, the main thrust of the article is "if women don't fall back in line men will become violent predators." When I was younger, this was often presented with examples from ancient Greece and Rome? I forget the guy. There was a Roman historian who had this idea that young men were only interested in creating radical social change in ancient Rome because too many of the wealthy older men had too many wives and concubines. Jordan Peterson used to trot that guy out. It doesn't matter. The ancient Romans thought owls were vampires, bro.

But it's just the same thing. Last week I saw this thing on reddit where some guy was posting that the male suicide rate is higher for short men.

And I don't want that. I don't think that's a good idea. But is "Give me sex" or "give me a relationship you don't want or are not ready for" something I am going to be prepared to do with my entire life, potentially, because of the implication?

Part of rape culture is the idea that men can't control or regulate their own emotions and that women can. Women are supposed to be independent, mysterious, not ever seek attention, ashamed of wanting validation. Women are meant to find it easy to follow all social rules and to also covertly influence and help the people around them to follow social rules through hints that help them to save face. Women are supposed to avoid leading men on. They are supposed to avoid being too deceptive in their beauty regimen. They are supposed to avoid being too demanding of men and making it too hard for them to get whatever it is they want. They are supposed to completely repent and change their entire character if they change the type of relationship they want- the woman who has had casual sex is supposed to pretend to be ashamed and that all the sex she experienced was a sign of unhealed trauma and she's a good girl now and she knows that dating men who please her sexually or that she is physically attracted to or that is too nice to her or is too smart or too good to be true is a red flag, actually. She is supposed to buy into the idea that "a healthy relationship will be boring" because what makes relationships exciting is somehow abuse. She is supposed to settle down, not up.

There's this thing I notice a lot.

A thing where a lot of women who seek advice from other women for things like feeling exhausted and burnt out from doing too much of the household maintenance are asked if their spouse has adhd or autism, as if rather than getting those things treated or seeking self help advice for those things if they impact your ability to take care of yourself, the solution is just to ask your partner to do them. There is a form of this question that will be leveled when both partners are the same age and both partners are neurodivergent.

Yes, it is nice when you can be nice to people and help them get deradicalized. But the people who do that type of work professionally have support networks and professional training. And sometimes you can be nice to someone and it helps them. But the more you do that, the more likely it is that you will be targeted by people who want to hurt you or silence you or shut you up, or that this particular piece of the patriarchy where people use your desire to help people and be kind to them and give them the benefit of the doubt against you with the intent of making you believe their way of thinking.

It cannot be a social norm that women owe men sex, commitment, babies, etc no matter how they are treated in response to giving those things to prevent social collapse.

It cannot be a social norm that men get to abuse women by proxy by threatening to hurt other women or other marginalized people if women do not comply.

It also cannot be a social norm that people are expected to be kind to people who are exhibiting radicalized behaviors and also that people are constantly accusing one another in moral purity witch hunts as a way to isolate them from support networks so that if someone tried to help someone who attempted to befriend people in order to try to see if they could help them see another way results in creating a situation where they have no recourse if they are targeted by extremist groups in retaliation and agents provocateur who try to use their old support network against them.

There actually are a lot of male voices on the left including men who specialize in anti manosphere content, mentorship to men who feel like they need positive older men to talk to as role models, men who talk about why toxic masculinity hurt them in the past in ways that don't have to do with relationships, people who were amab and who aren't men talking about what that experience of growing up with people trying to force masculinity on them is like, and teams which include men and women as friends and colleagues and even some that are married or dating.

But this talking point survives because it helps to radicalize women into misogyny by trying to get them to take accountability for the behavior of misogynistic men and also encouraging them to doubt their own experiences or their own rights to their own story and to the community of other people with similar experiences by telling them that they are somehow poisoning men. They are responsible for taming them.

posts about the alt-right pipeline being compassionate towards young men while radical leftists shun and shame them are not fucking saying "the men are becoming violent because feminists are too mean!" and if that is your takeaway you need to get off tumblr until you've better honed your critical thinking skills.

those posts are talking about how effective the language and approach you take in your activism can be. this is literally cult deprogramming 101. if someone is being taken in by a violent or dangerous group, that violent or dangerous group is usually offering them compassion and solace while working hard to convince them everyone else in the world is their enemy. you are under no obligation to coddle or act compassionate toward these men and their violent ideologies, but if you have the means to try, it is something that you can do to make a tangible difference.

radicalized people are often only one loving friend or family member or external voice away from being de-radicalized. of course that is not always the case, but it very often is. a lot of y'all rightfully understand that you do not carry the burden of being that voice, but a lot of y'all also have a lot of internalized ideas about morals and punitive justice and have simply written off these people as deserving of only the worst and not worth saving.

ten years ago, my grandmother was a fox news watching republican who voted red in every election and very well could have fallen down the qanon rabbit hole if not for me and her daughter challenging her compassionately, walking her through hypotheticals that validated her feelings & proving why they were false, & being patient with her despite our extreme division in political ideology. it was frustrating fucking work! but i decided i wanted to do it, because i could see the horizon and i could see me making a difference!

"misogynists have been saying feminists are too mean for years, get new material" that is not the fucking POINT. the point is that you, feminist, can be the compassionate voice that guides your brother, your father, your cousin, your grandfather away from fucking becoming or staying a nazi. you can show them compassion and companionship. you can be the woman they think of when their alt-right bros try to convince them that women are the enemy. and you can choose to crystallize that image of yourself so wholly in their mind's eye as worth protecting that they may very well choose to reject those harmful ideas.

it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it! don't you 'firebomb a walmart' people all love taking change into your own hands? where the fuck is that energy right now, huh?

[moodymisty]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊 (𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖆𝖓)

Part 4 of 5 - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Choose Ralkan, Choose Lev soon

  Author's Note: When I said you'll get to have your cake and eat it too, I meant it. Time for a 1 part choose your husband adventure, enjoy. Here's Ralkan's path, Lev's will be up soon. Enjoy getting your big salamander schlonging ;3

Summary: A Night Lord becomes interested in you while you stand under the eyes of your Salamander guardian, and you find yourself stuck between two titans.

Relationships:Yandere Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere Night Lord

Warnings: NSFW, Somewhat detailed mentions of gore and violence but not super graphic, Mentions of sex being kind of painful, You fuck missionary and that's filthy disgusting, Yandere, Size differences, Very toxic suffocating relationship(s), Some knight/princess dynamics, Demeaning language, Both these guys have hero complexes, Violence, Blood and bruises

Word Count: 3340

Backed into the corner with fear running through your veins like fuel, you instinctively look to your guardian.

Ralkan's entire body is stiff, his face loosing the softness that you're familiar with. He's stoic and emotionless, eyes darting around the small room. He's trying to best navigate the scenario, eyes locking with yours for the shortest of moments.

There's a coldness behind them- With this part of his mind brought to the forefront you can see his emotions have been tuned down, and you're an asset to be protected.

Lev has a similar level of hostility and coldness to him, but he hides it behind a facade of casualness. As if he's attempting to wavier the Salamander, raising his shoulders and seeming wider and stronger than he might actually be.

Lev is significantly sized in comparison to the other Night Lords you've glimpsed, but compares not to the size of a mature Salamander like Ralkan, who has a not insignificant of height on him.

"You aren't going to try and fight me with her in the room, are you? And risk her getting crushed in the mayhem?"

Lev's smile is insincere and filled with teeth, his voice coated in a teasing tone to it that rings totally hollow.

He unsettles you.

No matter his acts before, Ralkan was right that it was more than likely all a ruse to let him in without your guardian knowing. To sow your distrust of him and keep the one man capable of keeping you from him out of the way.

You were more than likely just an entertaining plaything; Being bat around in the paws of a cat. That separating you two was just part of the game, like Ralkan had told you all along.

There's something so deeply wrong with him that he makes you nauseous. The scent of rotten flesh stuck in the grooves of his armor is nothing compared to the way he looks at you with nothing but black behind his eyes, unable to tell what he's thinking about doing to you.

But no matter how much you want to no longer have his interest, to apologize to Ralkan and beg him to take you in his arms again, you know that Lev will still pull up a significant fight for the elder Salamander.

You don't want him to get hurt, even if it's in his nature; The very thing he was created for. It's an instinctive worry. Anything Lev would do wouldn't be just a nick either, the Night Lord is more than capable of doing significant damage.

The room is a bomb about to blow, and you know one of them isn't making it out alive if they begin to fight.

“Both of you, just-“

Lev suddenly makes a move for you as you speak, as if you directly called out to him. Before he can do anything Ralkan rushes him, in an attempt to sucker punch the Night Lord. He can't punch any part of him that isn't covered by armor as he approaches from behind, and so switches to grabbing his left pauldron and throwing him against the opposite wall of you to try and open him up for something that will do damage. It pulls Lev away from you either, and you fearfully attempt to meld with the wall and keep out of the way.

The two transhuman men begin to trade real blows, The Night Lord avoiding a punch thrown by the Salamander with far more deftness than you would ever think possible in such massive armor. Ralkan was quite quick in his armor the few times you saw him grapple in the training rings, but the Night Lord has a decent level of speed over him as the smaller and lighter of the two. Ceramite clanks into ceramite with dull, ringing thuds as Ralkan grapples the Night Lord and throws him from the room, firmly placing him in between you and Lev as well as widening the distance- pushed out the door and into the hall. The two continue fighting there and you rush out after them, as serfs started to gather and gawk at either end of the hall.

Salamanders and Night Lords had been fighting aboard the ship since the ladder's arrival, but most had been very small spats or merely verbal altercations. No one had yet to see a full brawl between two astartes, with the intent to maim and kill.

Some Salamander neophytes come and hear the commotion. They both know they stand no chance getting between two full grown Astartes, and don’t engage. One of them even reaches for you, a face you vaguely recognize from one of the times you followed Ralkan to the training rings. His hand grabs your bicep, attempting to tug you back.

“Lady Remembrancer get back!”

He yells at you, before turning to his fellow. His hand is still somewhat loosely around your arm. You pull at it and watch as Lev punches Ralkan directly in the face, and you see blood splatter down the bow of his upper lip. It doesn't slow the Salamander down, but the sight of him being visibly hurt makes your throat close and stomach turn in nauseating twists.

The speed at which they fight makes seeing who is winning this difficult, you can barely tell if any of them are actually hurt beyond very superficial armor damage.

"Let go!"

Your demand goes completely unheard by the neophyte holding you back, as he turns to his companion and yells.

“Get Captain Ralkan!”

His fellow, slightly smaller in stature, points to Ralkan and hisses back before you have a chance to point out who exactly is fighting the Night Lord.

“That is Captain Ralkan!” 

You all turn your heads at the sound of a chainsword- who’s you don’t know- letting out a waking rip. The neophytes settle to search for any brother superior they can find, even Vulkan himself if they must, as Ralkan throws Lev further down the hall. 

They’re out of sight, a cold rush of fear like ice water dunked on your runs through your veins.

“You need to stay back, it isn’t-“

You try to wrench yourself from his grip, and make no progress at first. But he he isn't a full Astartes yet, and lacks the strength to hold against your manic twisting and clawing at his hand. You manage to free your arm just as you hear the sound of a chainsword making contact with and then digging through ceramite.

“Ralkan!”

Rushing down the hall screaming his name, you hear more armor plates clanging against each other. A chainsword is hideously scraping against metal, and you barrel past the corner of the hall. You can hear the chain of it chutter and catch as flesh clogs it's mechanics, before the wielder lets go of the throttle and it lets out a panting, steaming exhaust as it slows.

When you turn the corner you see Ralkan on one knee, a massive pool of astartes blood coagulating near him. His chainsword is just finally slowing to a full stop, thick blood dripping from the teeth.

It has to be Lev's- but the Night Lord has vanished.

With him gone you rush forward, slowing when Ralkan looks up at you. Blood dribbles down his lips and chin, and you can see from how his lips are just barely parted in a pant that he has blood inside his mouth as well.

His eyes look to you and almost through you- cold and dark- before letting of his chainsword and walking towards you. His boots slam heavily against the ground, clearly a bit worn from the fight. Lev’s blood coats his gauntlets, staining your skin with red as he kneels in front of your and cups your jaw with both massive hands.

“Thank the Emperor that you are safe.”

His hands hold your face tight, loving expression contrasted by the blood splatters of both is own and the blood of someone whom you assumed he caused grevious bodily harm to smeared across his face.

“Every moment I was filled with regret for letting you ever leave my sight. I failed my duty letting him get so close.”

Your hands grip the collar of his chestplate, feeling the splatters of blood on it and the coolness of the ceramite. It's a sticky, uncomfortable feeling, but you don't fully think on it in the heat of the moment.

"Are you ok?"

You say, looking at him for wounds. His face is swollen slightly on one side like he's going to bruise, but other than the blood that was once rushing down from his nose, he seems mostly unharmed. At your worried inquiry he laughs at you, face beginning to return to that softness you're familiar with.

You'll still remember this coldness however; The look in his eyes during the few moments you saw them during his fight with Lev was frighteningly similar to the Night Lord's.

"You were almost stolen away by an astartes and used as a plaything, and you ask if I am well?" Ralkan leans in, and puts his forehead to yours.

"I am truly lucky to have you."

Safe in his arms and with him alive in front of you, the racing of your heart finally begins to slow down. Most of the serfs have already scattered, and the neophytes had run off to fetch a superior. You presume Ralkan will have to explain what happened to one of his fellow, but you imagine with behavior of the Night Lords, he won't be getting in very much trouble.

"Let us go to the apothecary. I want to make sure you are unharmed. Him having any amount of time with you alone has me worried for you. I want to be sure you are well."

He rises to his feet, swiping up his chainsword, before taking your hand in his gauntlet and bringing you along with him as he walks; Blood still smeared across his face the entire way.

-Three Terran months later -  

"Ralkan?"

You gently call his name, watching as he turns to you. He's doing maintenance on something you can't quite see, his body obscuring most of it as well as the sleep derived blurriness in your eyes.

"Yes? Do you need something?"

You rise up in his cot- your cot as well, since recently. All of your things have been consolidated into Ralkan's quarters, bringing a sense of liveliness to the room that it had originally lacked.

It's a bit more cramped in here, but Ralkan doesn't seem to mind.

“Isn’t my time here coming to an end once we return to Terra?”

Ralkan makes a noise. Putting down what you now can see is his bolter, he walks over to you and sits on the edge of his cot. His hand rests on the outline of your upper thigh overtop of the blankets.

"I spoke with my battle brothers, and we agreed upon keeping the remembrancers aboard the ship permanently, rather than for this single deployment. With their agreement of course. So you're departure is not mandatory."

So you can stay; Provided that you want to. You don't entirely know why you think saying no would be an option, however.

After all, why would you leave? You've never been safer than you are here, with two or sometimes thee meals a day when Ralkan can manage it, and a Salamander who has dedicated himself to your wellbeing.

More than just your wellbeing as well. His hand rests intimately at the apex of your thigh and the look he gives you is soft- one meant for the private air between two lovers.

You haven't considered leaving, but for some reason this entire line of thought is churning your stomach in a way you can't explain. That hesitancy is caught by Ralkan however, who's expression changes to one that's more questioning, as his brown eyes rake over your face.

"Why?" He questions, his hand still weighting heavy on your leg. "Are you considering wanting to leave?"

Something in his expression changes yet again. You quickly shake your head.

"No no, I was only wondering."

He smiles, one of his braids sliding over his shoulder to frame his face.

"Good. I don't know how I could be without you. I will do anything to make sure every need of yours is met while we are on the Flamewrought."

Ralkan has spoiled you since the first days you met him, and he's only gotten worse so since he dragged you into his heart. The food he gifts you is the best he can muster, and you can tell you've grown a bit softer. A few hours of extra sleep is nice as well, though sometimes you begin to feel guilty about staying in his quarters for so long, sleeping his training hours away.

You brought it up once and he told you he didn't mind, and encouraged you to do so. That you could should stay in his quarters as long as you want, and keep yourself happy and healthy for him.

Leaning down towards you he presses his lips to your own, easily pushing you gradually until your back hits the bed. Ralkan's massive body covers your own, and your heart already starts to beat a bit faster.

You taste him on your lips as they part for him, his slightly larger mouth awkwardly moving against yours. He's still a bit unfamiliar with the concept, but as with astartes he lacks the embarrassment of unfamiliarity; Learning quickly from you and your noises of enjoyment or discomfort.

You remember the first time you both were together, as it had started the same way; With him leaning forward and pushing you down onto the bed with a kiss.

"You," He hesitated for a moment, as if almost unsure. "You will tell me if I am too rough with you, yes?"

He watched as you silently nodded, your body laid out underneath him like the metal string of a beautiful hand crafted necklace.

"Good. I don't want to ever hurt you." His lips brushed over yours as he spoke, the overwhelming heat that his body made warming you up exponentially.

"I am new to this, I will admit. Show me how best to please you."

Though even if he didn't want to hurt you, he still had.

Your ribs and hips had bruises, your muscles ached like you'd ran miles. Ralkan is a massive man, and didn't quite understand how slow he truly needed to be. How to manage his strength for such a delicate dance. Your cunt still ached with a painful throbbing the day after, even if in the moment, it had been more pleasurable that you could've ever dreamed of it being.

His lips pulling away from yours he still hovers close, heavy chest pressed against yours and pinning you to the bed. His lips ghost over yours and you can feel his hot breath fan over your face, arms wrapping around his neck.

"I'm assuming I'll still have to call you Captain Ralkan around your brothers, correct?"

Ralkan loves the use of formality, to be your captain. In a way however, it sometimes almost feels demeaning; Like he wants to hear you're lesser and need him.

“Good girl, good girl,”

He says, as he slowly forced his way inside of you. You grimaced and writhed, as your body struggled to let him in. Even with as wet as you were, with how much you ached for him and wanted him, your muscles still wanted to push his inhumanly large size out. Even the pop of his cockhead past your entrance had been painful, you'd let out a painful hiss that made Ralkan freeze.

You could see the unfathomable amount of restraint that it had taken him. His hips were tense and you could hear the sound of the cot straining under his grip as he squeezed the life from it.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded to him in response, letting out the breath you'd been holding as you grew used to this amount of stretch. You desperately attempted to let your body relax, and just allow him in.

"Yes, it's just, it's just so tight,"

He pushed deeper, your nails digging into his shoulders. It was only an ache until the last bit- the thick base of his cock forced you even wider and caused you to gasp and kick one of your legs.

His hand rubbed your waist, his lips brushing across your face in almost kisses as he whispered endearing and encouraging words to you.

“Relax, I’m almost there.”

He was slow, you could hear the small hiss he let out as your cunt clenched around him so incredibly tight and tested his patience. Your thighs had to be spread out with an aching stretch to accommodate his hips, feet dangling in the air uselessly.

Your body wasn't meant for someone of his size. He wasn't meant for you. It wasn't natural, but he was going to slowly force it inch by inch.

With one more slow advance his hips finally pressed against the back of your thighs, and he was fully seated inside of you. You could feel the weight of his balls against your ass, and the huff of hot air over your face as he leaned his hips into you with less restraint now that he was fully inside. His deep voice in your ear made you shiver, braids tickling your face.

"Good girl, that was it. You took all of me. You're so small, but I knew you could."

It almost felt like you couldn't breath, with big he was; How deep he could push himself inside of you. When he moved it was like the head of his cock was bumping against your lungs and knocking the wind out of them, pelvis aching with the massive intrusion. The feeling faded as he started to thrust in and out of you, the slap of skin on skin drowning out your whimpers. His cock reached deeper than anything had ever been inside of you, and the ache in your lower stomach began to fade and turn into a pleasurable fullness instead.

When he came inside of you it was an even more intense feeling; The amount he left inside of you was unfathomable and dripped from your stretched hole when he pulled himself from you, though he hadn't left you empty for long after.

You loved Ralkan, you never doubted wanting him like this. The love he made with you was wonderful but you could always feel after the scars and bruises he left behind, like he was slowly remaking you for just himself.

You'd joked about that once. About his size. He'd just smiled, kissing you on the nose and said to stop saying such silly things. You were already made for him.

Ralkan now pulls his lips away from you, and you can see the shine of your own spit against them.

"Don't go thinking such things. You don't need to go a single place that isn't here."

He gifts another kiss to your forehead, his body caging your feeling a bit more suffocating that perhaps you might like, but not enough to say something.

"I must meet with my fellow captains. I will be back as soon as I can. Rest a bit more, I will bring food back for you."

He moves to get up from the cot, but not before adjusting the blanket that had gotten ruffled a bit in his affection for you.

"Can you get me some water also?" You ask him, feeling a bit of dryness in your throat. He smiles.

"Of course, my love."

He gives you a glance goodbye before leaving his quarters to meet with his fellow high ranking astartes, and as you lay your head back sideways on the pillow to curl up and nap, you hear the distinctive sound of the door locking behind him.

[olderthannetfic]

www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/771823370694213632

You need the say the bit about the way canon treats characters way louder because I really think that the way the character is... framed, I guess? accounts for huge chunks of it.

I remember when the Disk Horse was about Finn vs. Kylo Ren from the Star Wars sequel trilogy and I got called racist for trying to point out that Finn was always framed as the comic relief/unserious by the canon. He has a character arc in the first movie, but his emotions and his trauma and his personality are mostly played for laughs (ha! ha! Black janitor guy is scared because he's a coward! - and him being a janitor is a change that came pretty late, he was originally meant to be the top of his class). OTOH Kylo Ren has the camera linger on his anguished face while sad music plays and he monologues about the moral conflicts that he's facing.

The average viewer/reader - especially in the case of visual media - doesn't really stop watching to form non-prejudiced independent opinions on every character (and really shouldn't if your narrative is well-constructed!), that'd take up too much of their mental bandwidth! They let themselves be guided by how things and people are framed, so of course they'd see Ren as Serious and Tragic and Finn as the funny guy, which is inherently less sexy to most people!

Same thing with F/F: when canon treats its women with any degree of complexity and gives them the sort of character traits that are conductive to blorbofication people are all over it!

My dash's been drowning in Rhaenycent for a year now, and that's a show that arguably sorta botched its female characters in the attempt to make them complex! But it doesn't matter, because they set up all these juicy dynamics and the fans are all over it!

Fans LOVE Claudia from IWTV even though the tragedy of her canonical role is that the guys always sideline her for each other.

I went to the Anora tag after seeing the movie and saw a bunch of Anora x reader fic in between the gifs the same way I did for Feyd Rautha from Dune or any other feral unhinged character fans love imagining themselves having sex with (and then blocked it lol).

Like, my taste in women and men is exactly the same but the large majority of characters that fit it are men, because we just don't get a lot of women who are composed, charming rogues on the outside and crippled traumatized messes on the inside, with a narrative that gives this sufficient weight, and also lets them be feral and unhinged. And I actually prefer minority characters because where I'm from I'm from a minority group myself, but again, most of them don't fit the bill personality-wise or framing-wise.

Fandom's a hobby and it's meant to be fun - I'm not gonna be constantly swimming uphill from what the canon is trying to present to me just because a character shares a demographic category with me. I think this is the case for most people, really.

--

My read on a lot of this is that people are sad about the status quo (fair) and are lying to themselves that the culprits are nearby where they can reach them.

If we confront the fact that the real source is the director or the cinematographer or the studio head, it all feels so much more insurmountable.

Of course, one can opt for niche, indie media, but a lot of people don't want to do that, so they fall back on this shitty coping mechanism of pretending that they can yell at the people around them and effect meaningful change.

[salparadiselost]

Thinking of the bitties as cats is making me think of all the naughty things they might do when they want bruce and clark to wake up in the morning. Mine start knocking things over, chewing on things they shouldn't, smacking my face and biting my chin hard.

The bitties aren’t… they aren’t untrained but they are unmannered. They are raised by Bruce Wayne who’s kinda just a untrained child himself. This Bruce is definitely more stable than a lot of Bruces(the power of having a pet to help cope with isolation and mental health issues) but I do think he lives in a big wealth bubble. Part of that bubble is him not giving a damn about how his pets act in public. After all, no one complains! (Who’s gonna complain to Bruce Wayne)

Because of this the bitties have some very bad habits. They nip, scratch, yell, make a mess, scream for attention and Bruce just thinks that’s normal behavior. They are remarkably sweet to him, but makes him a bit blind to how they treat others.

I always think of how Clark sees the bitties. To him, they are an exotic pet with no use. He grew up on a farm where animals had uses and slept outside. He can hardly fathom how Bruce tolerates them being inside and making messes and touching their creepy hands to everything. Plus on top of that, they are some of the only animals on earth that negate his kryptonian powers. For the first time in Clark’s life, he is experiencing what it is to have a pet that can nip and claw you. Sure he had Krypto but a dog bite it different than a cat bite, and the bitties will nip to get what they want. For the first time, he’s experiencing petting the Bitty nicely and then… sudden bite attack and bunny kicks!! Animals pouncing on your ankles! Bitties digging claws into his skin to climb up him. Not being able to hear them *at all* so their surprise attacks from above are actually surprising.

Both him and Bruce realise that Clark is actually startled very easily when he doesn’t hear something.

So yeah, Bruce is used to bad manners but Clark is the one fighting for his life out here. He’s really thinking very hard about whether his cute, goth boyfriend is worth being constantly sneak attacked by said boyfriend’s emotional support beasts.

[summertimesadnessirl]

You should try just no longer talking to them. Just tell them that using actual words and then bounce.

Self sabotage is not real. In relationships, you are sabotaging the other person. They don't know why you did this.

And "you're not good enough for meeeeeee!" Is actually a terrible excuse to piss someone off or make them miserable or mistreat them or cheat on them or whatever you are doing.

I don't think this is real though.

Every time someone accuses me of self sabotaging it's either a fancy way of saying

"I feel bad for you and that makes me feel bad and I have the ability to discern and manage emotions, including those absorbed through empathy of roughly a 6th grader and won't admit it so now I'm trying to tell you to shut up about your problems and not indicate distress in any way because you being sad near me is bumming me out but that would require me to have a higher level of maturity and self awareness than I have so I'm just going to accuse you of causing your own problems and hope you slink away in shame because I want to lash out at you even though you didn't do anything wrong and I don't know why."

Or

"Actually god is punishing you for negative vibes, because God is also a little bitch with the emotional range of a sixth grader, so... that's for you to fix. I am very mystical and used to people not questioning my philosophy as a result, and I don't realize people can tell I'm a dyed in the wool sadist who enjoys seeing people in emotional turmoil. My main interest in the mystical arts is keeping other people too intimidated with how esoteric I am or too intimidated by my resemblance to religious abuse of a similar nature in their childhood to call me out on pretending to offer advice so I can get off on making people feel like shit after talking to me for not understanding why my advice doesn't make them feel better when I supposedly say all the right things."

Or

"The same, but with the self help industry."

So I've never met anyone who actually self sabotages relationships because the other person is too good for them.

I have met people who don't understand why something isn't working but know it isn't working.

I have met people who claim they self sabotage relationships because they don't feel good enough. Most of those people were victims of abuse and gaslighting.

A few were lying to people about their own motives in order to justify some sadistic behavior they got called out on.

They knew it would make the other person go

Awwwww

And forgive them and let them go another round.

I self sabotage any relationship I have with people bc I know in the end they are better without me in their lives