#it seemed to me contradictory and out of place

[ladypiscesmoon]

I promised you all an update for Timmy and Armie: Consider it a little Christmas present. Happy Christmas to you all, mine starts tomorrow night, Christmas Eve, because I have a danish mother in law and the danish tradition is having dinner with the family and presents on Christmas Eve.

I got two new decks today in a beautiful shop here in the Netherlands, one of my favorites because they have so many beautiful things and good quality decks.

*the following reading is alleged/for entertainment purposes only*

Twin flame Ascension take me home oracle deck:

Armie: 11:11 Twin Flame/everything is possible, 4:4 Transformation/battle of Head vs. Heart

(4:4= alignment with your guides, 11:11=alignment with your beloved)

Armie wants to stand his ground, but his heart and his head are in a constant battle. I feel he knows his love for Timmy is not going away, it's a very unconditional type of love. Even if he knows that it would be easier to move on, he hesitates to let go fully. This love between them has the potential to be one of the greatest I have witnessed in my life and I think Armie feels it, but he wants to be taken seriously and be loved.

Timmy: 1:1 Acknowledge/take responsibility, 3:3 soul merger/ebb and flow

(1:1 =balance between your inner masculine and feminine energies, 3:3= alignment with your higher self)

Timmy has to focus on finding balance within. He feels all over the place at the moment. As ever, his back to back workload is an avoiding strategy, but it exhausts him AND delays reunion with his true love. He's got to accept the natural rhythm of life and the fact that it constantly changes. he's got to take responsibility for his actions and come to terms with what no longer works in his life. He alone has the power to change things in his life, if he makes these changes he will get what his heart desires. he has to connect again with his inner soul and what sets his soul on fire, so his future will be brighter.

Modern Lenormand deck:

the garden/the rider/the stars/the clouds/the mice/the fish

celebrating someones arrival

celebrating a birthday

all will work out for the best

improving confusion

something eating away over time

anxiety

stress

disease

arguments

financial loss

theft of money

Lots to unpack: it's a bit messy and contradictory.

I feel Armie is going back and forward in his head; what is he going to do about Timmy's birthday. I think they will not meet at Christmas probably. Too many hurdles and too much uncertainty about where they stand with each other. But not reaching out to Tim on his birthday is something Armie is not to keen on, even though they're not on the best of terms right now. , because it will hurt Timmy tremendously. He doesn't want to hurt him.

Timmy is all over the place. He has worked too hard and feels a bit manic to be honest. He really has to slow down after this campaign but knowing him he tries to forget his troubles by avoiding talking about them and by running away and working.

I'm not sure, but there seems to be some financial loss, or possibly a theft of money for Timmy.

Light shadow tarot: four of pentacles/knight of swords/seven of swords/ten of cups/eight of cups/ten of pentacles

Both want to keep things private, but it's Timmy particularly I felt when I pulled those cards. He wants to have this love, but he knows it will cost him other things and he's afraid. He's not the best at dealing with his intense feelings and he is ambitious, but I think he will see soon that it's not all that glamorous to have a lot of attention, or be famous because it makes him feel like he lost an important part of himself and in a way he mourns that too. He really does feel fu*d up at the moment, I think he has to rest, think what is important to him in life. I know he works hard, but particularly in the last year, he feels isolated and anxious. Gosh, I feel for him. It's not easy to come into fame so quickly and so young I understand why he's in doubt about a lot of things.

Having said that I feel Armie as well. He doesn't want bullshit like that in his life anymore. And why should he? It has cost him a great deal.

What do they want to say to each other?

the love angels oracle cards:

Tim to Armie: Put yourself first/forgive and release

He acknowledges that Armie has to put himself first and he loves him for being that strong now, but he also hopes Armie will forgive him.

Armie to Timmy: free yourself/twin flame

twin flame twice in one reading!I think Armie realizes it's not so easy to move on from Timmy. He wants Timmy to choose himself, to let go of the pressure to be successful at all costs.

twin flame love notes: top: Timmy, bottom Armie

[omgthatdress]

The Importance of Studying Queerness in Context.

When studying queer history, one always has to keep in mind two seemingly contradictory things: firstly, that queerness and queer people have always existed, but at the same time, that queerness and queer identities have not always existed the way they exist today.

Modern queer terms and identities did not exist to queer people in the past. They would not have thought of themselves as "gay" or "trans" or even "queer." While these modern terms may seem to fit certain historic individuals, these individuals would not have thought of themselves as such, and it would not be a part of their lived experience. To apply the modern identities of queerness to history is to erase the lives and experiences of queer people in history, and care must always be taken to understand queer history within the context of its time.

When looking at queer history online, there is a *lot* of misinformation and misidentification out there simply because people are eager to apply modern queerness to history, often in places where it doesn't belong.

A lot of old photos get misidentified as gay because they show two people of the same sex showing some level of physical affection towards each other. Okay, I'll admit that the open-mouth kissing photobooth pictures are probably actually gay, but an old picture of two men or two women holding hands or with their arms around each other, or even kissing on the cheek, were common shows of platonic affection.

I hate to break everyone's gay little hearts, but without explicit documentation saying so, assuming that these couples are all gay is putting modern queer identity in places where it simply didn't exist. The women in the final picture are sisters. The "not married" boys are bachelors interested in marrying women.

In the silent film Wings, the emotional climax of the film comes in the form of a kiss exchanged between the characters played by Jack Powell and David Armstrong. It often gets attributed as the first gay kiss in cinema history, even on the fucking YouTube clip I found:

Except it isn't gay. The two men spend the whole film fighting over who gets to be Clara Bow's boyfriend. When Richard Arlen's character is fatally wounded, his dear friend rushes to his side and kisses him goodbye, because in the 1920s, that was considered the ultimate show of friendship. The movie ends with Jack Powell falling in love with Clara Bow.

Similarly, a kiss shared between Lillian and Dorothy Gish in the 1921 movie Orphans of the Storm often gets attributed as being queer, but it wasn't.

They were sisters playing sisters. None of this was considered unusual.

Pooh-poohing on all of these images that so many people on the internet breathlessly and joyously laud as proud gay history isn't fun. It makes me feel like I'm fucking Ben Shapiro. But if misinformation is allowed to flourish, it allows people like Ben Shapiro to come in and make the argument that queerness is a modern invention and queer people didn't exist in the past.

Everyone loves to see queerness represented in history, but the fact is that none of the stuff in this post would have been seen as explicitly gay and thus shouldn't be called gay today. If we are to understand queer history in its fullness and richness, it is absolutely crucial that we get it right. We owe it to our queer ancestors to recognize, honor, and not embellish the actual lives they lived.

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . WAKING UP WITH THEM feat. 𝓙𝓤𝓙𝓤𝓣𝓢𝓤 𝓚𝓐𝓘𝓢𝓔𝓝!

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi + itadori yuuji

warnings! none, fluff ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hi it’s been so long + i just got a sudden urge to write with the new season + all! life has been super cray but hopefully i get to do some more jjk again ueueue! back to my roots <3

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU

it was almost a mission getting up next to gojo, or more so having to actually get out of bed when you have your overgrown clingy boyfriend wrapped around you.

his breathing is soft, the rise and fall of his chest is steady and despite the way the light barely breaks into the room you can see the way his lashes still rest along his cheeks.

now’s your chance, you think to yourself as you ease gojo’s arm from where he’s got it draped over your waist — gently as to not jolt him awake as you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed. you gently swing your legs over the edge, but just as you go to push yourself up you hear the slow, drowsy drawl of a man who’s definitely not about to let you do that.

“oh, what’s this? i don’t think so, sweet thing.” your snowy haired boyfriend grunts as his arms take their previous place around your waist from behind, tighter this time before you’re pulled back into his chest with such an ease you almost squeak. you barely heard him move and the speed he always seems to despite the early hours still makes your head feel dizzy.

“you wouldn’t leave me cold would you? where’s your heart?” gojo teases but you note that he’s warm when he’s pushing himself into the crook of your neck, letting his lips graze along the skin there as he chuckles at the way you shudder at the touch. he knows you’re pouting, your little mission not so successful—but he still thinks it’s adorable the way you melt back into him regardless.. like you were secretly hoping for the loss.

“you were literally asleep a second ago.” your words are accompanied by a playful pinch at his cheek before his large palms graze under your shirt, squeezing at your waist as he pulls away to give you a tilted look. his sleepy smirk is in place as it stretches wide before he leans into to press a quick kiss against your lips, then another against your cheek that lingers.

“oh yeah? but i thought i was still in a dream, sweet girl.” crystalline eyes pull back to look over you, mapping out your features like gojo hasn’t already committed them to memory. but you think it’s unfair how handsome he seems to look in the mornings, especially when you’re trying to resist the way he makes you want to give in to his request to stay in bed a little longer.

“yeah yeah, just get up already.”

“nuh ugh, you’ve not even given me my good morning kiss yet. how will i survive the day, hm?”

✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU

you need to get up, geto knows when your alarm goes off for the third time even though it was the first that woke him. “i know you’re awake, pretty girl.” he hums against your temple, but you’re still pressed up into him and every attempt to shake you gently awake has you inching yourself closer to his chest rather than to the edge of the bed.

“come on.” his words are accompanied by the smooth trace of his hands along the curve of your spine and you think it’s a little contradictory, the way he’s making you melt even more into him despite the way it’s supposed to be waking you up instead.

“sugu, but i’m tired.” a kiss to your forehead and a squeeze of his hand at your hips and you hear geto chuckle as he pulls back to look at you — his dark hair still messily framing his features as he pushes himself up.

“yeah? you seemed to be sleeping well when you were snoring.” he teases even as one arm still wraps around you and pulls you into him anyway. chuckling, long and low when you grumble before nuzzling into the crook of his neck to press butterfly kisses along his skin.

“i don’t snore.” you reply before you find yourself lost in him, geto always smelled good, so good you wanted to wrap yourself in him like the blanket you wrap yourself in at night. you hear him hum at your words; like he’s not quite convinced before he’s reaching over you to tap at the alarm, again.

“but we really need to get up.” he sighs but somehow manages to keep you still pressed against him as he sits up, letting you curl up against his chest as the first cold press of morning air rolls over your shoulders while he stretches.

you look up at him with drowsy features but it seems to warm you from the inside out when you notice he’s already staring, a smirk in place before he’s pinching once at your cheek and kissing your lips when they jut out into a pout.

“hey, don’t gimme that look after all of those alarms, pretty girl.”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO

waking up with nanami was easy, or more so being woken up by him. he was always up early, waking you up with a sweet kiss against your cheek, followed by another against your temple. his coffee still lingers on his lips but you think it’s familiar, like it makes the first stretch of the day come a little easier when hes resting over you.

“morning, sweetheart.” his voice is a low drawl but he knows you’ll probably still be in bed by the time he leaves. but you know you’ll walk into the kitchen to sliced fruit on the table and your slippers will be waiting in their place over the edge — perfectly positioned for you to slide into because he knows the floor is a little colder in the morning.

“morning, kento.” your voice is cute, barely audible but nanami’s still close enough to hear it as he lets his palm push gently down the curve of your shoulder — squeezing at the skin affectionately. your eyes are barely open, but you can still feel the way he tucks the comforter over you, sighing softly before he pulls back.

“do you want me to bring in dinner?” he asks, you’re barely awake but he still waits for an answer. a little nod follows and he smiles to himself when you subconsciously roll onto his side of the bed, seeking out the small remainder of the warmth he’d left behind although you’d still rather he be next to you instead.

“then i won’t be late, i have dinner plans now after all.” nanami pulls back to take another sip of his coffee but you still seem to find the consciousness to reach out to grab at the cuff of his shirt. a drowsy blink up at him and he knows he can’t deny you when he’s leaning over you again, leaving you with another few kisses that find him having to smooth down his shirt and hair again afterwards.

✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

you think it’s charming, the way megumi is already looking at you as you wake, blinking blearily at your dark haired boyfriend as he gives you a content sort of look. you blink again, stretching slightly before you roll onto your side, edging yourself closer before you speak. “were you watching me sleep?”

your question is still drawled as you tease him, barely awake but you can still see the way it makes him jolt slightly — like he’s been caught in a daze as the tips of his ears sting with a blush. “no” but his reply is too quick, followed by a tsk while he’s suddenly looking everywhere but at you with a pout on his lips that only seems to lure you closer.

you giggle as you press yourself into megumi’s side, humming at the grumpy expression on his face because you still think it’s cute the way he lets you climb all over him. “what? i think it’s cute.” he softens at that, slightly as his eyes dart quickly to look at you before they’re gone again.

you let the silence settle for a few moments before you feel his arm reach to wrap gently around your waist, securing you against him before he clears his throat to finally say something. but his gaze remains on the ceiling. “i wasn’t staring..” he begins before he gives you another quick look, “.. you, you just made a sound, i was checking on you.”

you hum at megumi’s little excuse as your press your cheek into his shoulder, failing to hide the way your lips are starting to stretch into a grin that he notices before his brows furrow slightly. “hm? you looked happy about it.” you tease again and you feel his fingers squeeze at your waist slightly as he breathes out a long sigh and curls you closer.

“shutup.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITADORI YUUJI

on the rare occasions itadori seemed to wake up before you, you were never far behind — mostly because he couldn’t seem to wait too long without you. so you always seemed to find yourself woken up by a few messy kisses, pressed quickly into your cheeks, then your neck, then your nose until you’re pushing him away playfully at the way they tickle your skin.

“yuuji! i’m awake..” you huff out as your overgrown boyfriend leans his weight over you, like a giant puppy licking his owner awake in the morning as he sends you a bright grin. you always thought it was cute how pretty he still seemed to be in the mornings, even when his hair is messy and it’s barely 8am— there’s still a soft sort of glow in his eyes when they meet yours.

“morning!” itadori replies, his voice is lower than normal but he still handles you softly despite how tightly he wants to wrap you in his arms. but he was warm, sort of like sunshine and you think you quite enjoy the moments when you get to wake up under the sun.

“do you wanna get breakfast?” you ask softly and you swear you feel your boyfriend squeeze you tighter at that. but your arms wrap around him and he doesn’t think anything is gonna be as good as the feeling of you against his chest right now.

“five more minutes, babe. i wanna cuddle a little longer.” itadori’s words are muffled when he speaks them into your skin, continuing where he left off on his onslaught of kisses as he peppers them across your features. across your cheeks, along your jawline and down your neck until he’s pressing you into your pillows and groaning when you scratch your fingers through his hair.

but you accept, even though in five more minutes you know it’ll be ten.

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[marwhoa]

My signature color doesn’t exist on mobile tumblr 😭😭 this is closest though so—

Tall or short || Spicy or sweet || Cute or cool || city or Country || mountains or Ocean || Forest or desert || Witch or knight || vampire or Werewolf || Cats or dogs || Outdoors or indoors || speed or Strength || Brains or brawn’s || fangs or Claws || wings or Tail || chaos or Order || hot or Cold || Together or alone || Books or television || close combat or Faraway Sniping || Electricity or ice ||You or me || fluffy or Smooth || firm or Soft || Black or white || day or Night || Spring or fall || Summer or winter || men or women (Or the secret third option: Neither)* || Rice or bread || meat or Vegetables || short sleeves or Long Sleeves || Sweaters or jackets || Pastel or neon || Friends or family || purse or Backpack || competitive or Casual || Silk or faux fur || sporty or Preppy || money or Love || life or Death || Sky or earth || think or Leap

I did this while i was sleepy and had to turn it into a draft to finish when i woke up lmao

*: i’m aroace lmao women are pretty, men are… scary, thin ice, but yeah that’s that

taggies !!

not sure if any of my friends are actually into this, especially with how tedious it is, so if you see this and wanna do it, consider yourself tagged !! :3

THIS OR THAT?

Highlight your choice in your signature color. You cannot choose more than one option. Think hard and choose wisely.

Tall or Short // Spicy or Sweet // Cute or Cool // City or Country // Mountains or Ocean // Forest or Desert // Witch or Knight // Vampire or Werewolf // Cats or Dogs // Outdoors or Indoors // Speed or Strength // Brains or Brawn // Fangs or Claws // Wings or Tail // Chaos or Order // Hot or Cold // Together or Alone // Books or Television // Close Combat or Faraway Sniping // Electricity or Ice // You or Me // Fluffy or Smooth // Firm or Soft // Black or White // Day or Night // Spring or Fall // Summer or Winter // Men or Women (Or the secret third option: Neither) // Rice or Bread // Meat or Vegetables // Short Sleeves or Long Sleeves // Sweaters or Jackets // Pastel or Neon // Friends or Family // Purse or Backpack // Competitive or Casual // Silk or Faux Fur // Sporty or Prep // Money or Love // Life or Death // Sky or Earth // Think or Leap

—

@magicmike5000 @red-rage-machine @nardos-primetime @chessman-protocol @artsyannierose @dotbot2012 @donnieslefteyebrow9000 @theoneandonlyneonleon

Anyone who sees this may also join :)

[notherpuppet]

I know they’re probably not going to go into this (which i understand, there’s only so much time in an episode and they’re telling a different story) but I think about Al’s background a LOT. Get ready if ur in the mood for a read.

To be a mixed Black person in America is a…bizarre experience. You come to realize that due to the coincidence of your genetic makeup, white folks may divulge information that they keep so closely guarded from the ears of “more obvious-looking” black folks. Im gonna bring it back to Alastor, but lemme give some personal context. I’m mixed with Filipino, so I’m pretty obviously not white, yet my ambiguous ethnic makeup in a predominantly white suburbia seemed to make white peers and people feel much more at ease in relaying their criticisms or prejudices of black people to me. I would hear someone feel comfy enough to spew vitriolic racist shit with me, then toe the line like a circus acrobat when around someone a few shades darker in skin tone and a few coils curlier in hair texture. It was constantly infuriating and holding my tongue was a practice to both investigate someone’s true nature and preserve my own safety. I did abandon that method of navigating life in America, and experienced the switch-up white folks made when I started ‘broadcasting’ my blackness. (E.G. beyonce pre vs. post Lemonade). The criticisms and prejudice confessions just came less often, til I saw them being caged up completely after white peers experienced backlash from me. After they realized “OH this bitch is a n*****!?”

Now this is from someone who is brown, but i also wanna talk about my white-passing cousin with a similar racial makeup as Al, who is from the south and oh BOY. (Let’s call him J for this post’s purposes). J’s navigation though simple daily life is such a constant contradictory experience, of which he is still working through in therapy. I think of one moment when he was manager at retail gig and his boss told him that whenever a Black customer enters, it’s policy to give them “exceptionally attentive customer service”. Essentially, “follow that n***** around”. This is just one modern incident of when J would hear the quiet part out loud, despite his Blackness, because his appearance was white enough to make white folks drop their guard. Eventually, my cousin and I took to the same direction where we used our advantage of disarming white folks against them when the time came. We would keep note and record of racism and unlock a sort of “this you?” when the opportunity to expose that person’s true nature came. It’s pretty vengeful thinking ngl, but it is really REALLY hard to resist exposing an asshole rather than attempting to teach an asshole to change their ways. Especially given that such an attempt is an ARDUOUS uphill battle. The experience of KNOWING the truth about what someone thinks of your people, and being opened to opportunities and information that you would not have access to if the chance of your genetics was only slightly different is bIZARRE, horrific, and fuel for constant inner turmoil. (It sucks y’all)

Now back to Alastor; to have been a mixed person in the Deep South in 1930s America—it’s not too difficult for me to imagine how traumatic and convoluted that experience must have been. Especially when legally and socially, things were so much more Black and White. And when you’re on the line in between that, when society does not prepare a place for your existence, it can be SO isolating. You may consider the absurdity of such an arbitrary method of determining class, status, and/or caste much earlier in life than peers, which only further isolates you. You hold a resentment of society now that you know exactly how the other side is operating to ensure your oppression.

And then I think of Al’s weird ass moral code. How he arrived in Hell and (according to Mimzy) began killing overlords with reckless abandon. This is someone who likely had to develop the cunning to navigate 1930s Deep South America as a mixed, murdering, psychopath without getting caught by authorities who are already gunning for you. And now he is in Hell where the rules of society have gone up in smoke and he can fully embrace his rage, resentment, and vengeance. A desire to burn down the powerful people of the world can be accommodated and ANY previous inhibitions can finally be released. The morality of rising above someone by cutting them down (instead of developing emotional/spiritual healing) has become the easier and satisfying option. Finally the opportunity to show the power-secure villains of the world how easily you can tear them down when nothing is holding you back any longer.

TLDR; The trauma of racism in America is pretty sufficient cannon fodder for a severe psychotic break, the development of socially debilitating behaviors and isolation, and a quest for profound vengeance. So maybe that can explain some of the enigma that is Alastor.

And this is just ONE facet of Al. I didn’t even get to bring up the isolation that comes with being an aroace nonbeliever in the 1930s Deep South. Like FUCK. I’m a mixed, aroace nonbeliever from a modern day conservative town and yall….what a weird experience for sure lol but anyway lemme get back to my life. Whole point of this was—-WHAT AN INTERESTING FUCKEN CHARACTER TO THINK ABOUT

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Okay, I actually really like this. And I can say why.

"But Dana isn't it hypocritical to Like Lunar's 'villain arc' while disliking Nexus's?"

Not really. Because what Lunar is doing is consistent with his character. Which is, entirely selfish motivations as he has always had before, and I'll explain Lunar's motivations and why he makes a better compelling villain arc. And who knows, maybe Lunar will rush back and say he's sorry after one or two episodes when Nexus didn't.

But Nexus/N!Moon grieving over someone he loved, everyone assuming he's evil and them making a heel turn into 'irredeemable evil' I didn't like because it was contradictory to the past year we spent with N!Moon and unintentionally felt like it villainized grieving in an ugly way. And I've expressed the dislike of All of Nexus's worst fears coming true. He believes his family doesn't understand, they treat him like villain immediately. He thinks he's easily replaceable and not as talented as the Old Moon. Old Moon comes back, replaces him, is accepted immediately and was proven to be intellectually superior to N!Moon. He thinks he's broken that he's beyond repair and can't be fixed. Earth gave up on him really quickly despite being aware of his coping mechanisms (lashing out) (even before the "collateral damage" thing) Ruin lied and manipulated him and killed Solar. Nexus never wanted to be manipulated again.... D!Sun put the plans in place that he was the perfect pawn in an interdimensional sacrifice to get the outcome he wanted. Nexus wanted his family to join him and understand him. No one understood him and he died at the hands of his own brother.

Nexus died with all his worst fears and nightmares confirmed true. It's honestly tragic and horrible.

NOw.... Lunar. Getting into this little bean. Has a far more compelling reason to be corrupted by Negative star power. That is consistent with his character and just doesn't replace Lunar with... Lexus or something.

So Lunar was just told recently by Taurus and Gemini, that he has reached the precipice of his training and neither will train him anymore. With his mental block on his trauma and Eclipse and just apathetic to everything, he can't tap into his emotions or power. Understandably, Lunar is frustrated by this and feels no one is listening to him and feels his partner is being demeaning (they're not. And it's not about him. But Lunar is to selfish to get that.)

People often don't understand that Gemini does not try to be intentionally demeaning to Lunar. They do not have human emotions like we do, or even the animatronics do. They operate at a different level beyond our human comprehension, So I don't place Astrals into mortality boxes. And Lunar, is still a very childish and selfish character, and seems to not understand their partner. Even if they do like them a whole lot. They just don't understand them at a fundamental level. It's hard to have an emotional connection to someone who doesn't have human emotions, (or who is just starting to feel emotions in small doses but that's just a theory) and Lunar does not have the patience or emotional maturity to deal with someone who operates like that.

So Rez puts it out there for Lunar to get stronger then they are willing to train him and SO OF COURSE Lunar would jump at that because he feels infantilized and has felt that way by his partner for a long time. Keep it in mind, Gemini does not do this intentionally, and makes this clear to Lunar MANY TIMES over the entire course of the year they have been interacting.

Not to mention, Sun killing Nexus disturbed something across dimensions. It's as I said when Nexus first turned to the dark side. It's like all Moon's destiny is to inherently be doomed by ambition. Lunar included in that. Lunar following in Nexus's footsteps. Because those who don't know their history are doomed to repeat it. And Lunar is the prime example. And this is horrible. Maybe it's hypocritical of me to like Lunar's heel turn into a Sasuke arc. But this is on a path of destiny that needs to break. And that's why I think I find it a bit more compelling from a character motivation and writing stand point. So. Yes. Lunar abandoning his family when they need him. Horray!!!

I think I just like it because it is consistent with all of Lunar's characterization up to this point. And because he did not care or know what was going on with Nexus, he will get corrupted by the NSP too. Who knows, maybe Lunar will gain a new found sympathy for Nexus knowing how Dark Star Power fucks with your head and insecurities.

[lacesoflove]

hi! ive never requested before so sorry if this is worded weird but was wondering if you could write something where hamzah make the reader squ!rt for the first tike and he assures her its nothing to be ashamed of

soaked for you (request) | hamzah x fem!reader

rating | smut (fem recieving)

warning | afab!reader, proofread

w/c: 1.5k

author's note | this was a god request! i love requests or prompts that allow me to incorporate plot with porn. this might be the hottest thing i've written dare i say? the ending lowkey sucks tho but wtv

THE LATE NIGHT, TORONTO RAIN WAS BRUTAL WITH IT’S RELENTLESSNESS. 

You didn’t mind, not entirely, anyways, you liked the petrichor scent rain always brought in and the rumbling sound of thunder. The one thing you didn’t appreciate was the humidity. Thanks to the sheer fucking humidity, you had now found yourself wearing shorts,  no underwear, and one of your boyfriend’s many stupid slogan shirts he had “jokingly” ordered from Temu (he claimed to have ordered them as jokes but considering the volume of how many he owned, you weren’t sure now).  This one happened to read: best farter, I mean father, ever. It was comfy and didn’t make you feel hot, at least. Although, even with your minimal amount of layers and the fan blowing cold wind into your room, it wasn’t enough to rid of your uncomfortable state of being a tad too warm and, as if to make matters worse, you had found yourself occupied with an erotica novel that was causing you to burn with desire.  You had picked the obviously low quality book from Ben McNally as a joke with some friends, it was something to laugh at, truthfully, given the book’s bizarre plot being centred around a woman and her computer that turns into a sentient male being. Shamefully, you found yourself squirming at the surprisingly detailed sex descriptions and it didn’t help that everytime you looked above your book  you saw your boyfriend, Hamzah. The humidity had gotten to him too, it seems. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and chose to just wear baggy grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips, allowing the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers to peek through. You felt easy. All it took was a shittily written sex novel from the discount bin and watching your boyfriend do something as mundane as organising the clothes on his side of your closet for you to feel yourself bloom with wetness. The need for him and his touch was making you antsy - jittery even. You chose to ignore the feeling. 

After all, you and him had sex in the morning and the night before. You didn’t want to come off as needy so you resumed reading your book that you were convinced was partly written by Chat GPT, and sometime between the protagonist somehow getting pregnant by her sentient robot boyfriend and her nearly dying in some contrived plot point, your boyfriend had settled in the spot next to you. You closed your book and set it to the side, mentally bookmarking where you left off before turning your attention to him. “Hey.” You smiled at him, trying to ignore how shifty your legs had become against your own will. You hated how physically obvious it was that you needed him sometimes. Again, it made you feel easy or like a whore. Which didn’t really make sense because you only really slept with him - but your mind was a contradictory, and sometimes, cruel place. “Hey,” he smiled back, albeit a bit tiredly.  “You good?” “I’m good.” You replied back, looking down at him. Fuck he looked good. He’d look better on top of me, you thought. You tried to cast that thought and others, similar, away.  “Just tired from YouTube and shit,” he paused a bit as he rubbed his eyes. “I lost a brand deal because, according to them, we’re not ‘brand friendly’ enough,” Hamzah remarked, enunciating the words ‘brand friendly.’ “Like fuck, and they’re the ones that reached out to us for a collaboration.” You nodded, barely taking what he was saying in, as your eyes lingered around his V-line. “Damn that sucks.” You mumbled. You were distracted and Hamzah wasn’t an idiot. He took you in, properly, and the pieces of the puzzle fell together when his eyes landed on your shorts. They were of a thin material and white, so it was quite easy seeing the wet patch. “What’s this?” He asked innocently enough. “What’s what-” your question was quickly answered as his fingers traced the outline of the desire that had bloomed in your pants. “Uh, I just spilled water on myself.”

“Mmm.” Was all Hamzah let out, his finger lazily going from the crotch of your shorts to your plush thigh, grazing gentle circles against your perfumed skin. He knew you were lying - but if you were lying, it must’ve meant you didn’t want him to take it as a sign for doing something. He was happy with just touching you just like this. You felt your body wet with his touch. Fuck I need him, you thought, as you watched him continue to trace little outlines of abstract shapes against your body, his eyes boring into your body as if it was on display at the Lourve. 

“Hamzah.” You spoke, finally managing to swallow the lump in your throat. You never knew why you were so nervous to ask him to touch you or have sex with you, you always wanted it, and you were sure he did too.

“Hmm?” He hummed, his eyes lifting to meet your gaze. 

“I - I’d like to-” you were struggling to find words. Not that he needed any anyway. Your soaked shorts, the nervous lust that was blooming in your eyes and just your general energy was a dead giveaway that you were looking for something more. Something he was proud only he could give you.

He began to move, settling his head to rest on your upper thigh. “What would you like, baby?” He asked you, his fingers toying with the drawstrings of your shorts. “You.” You replied, breathily. With that, he had slid your shorts off your legs and discarded them sloppily somewhere in the chaos of your untidied room. He planted a kiss against your vulva, before lifting his eyes to meet your eyes - a silent ask of approval to go further. You nodded and he latched his mouth against your pussy. Always managing to do so with a hungrier desperation than the last time he ate you out.  You felt your pussy throb as he licked long, hot stripes against it and felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes as his nose made repeated contact with your oh-so sensitive bud. 

You felt euphoric.

He lifted his middle and forefinger to your mouth, grazing them lightly against your lip - gesturing for you to open your mouth. You obliged. You took the taste of his fingers in and rolled it against your tongue before letting them out of your mouth. His fingers, now lubricated, entered your folds and into you. You shot your head back as the pleasure overwhelmed you. You glanced down to look at the view below you and all you could think was, God. 

The way his eyes were gleaming with dedication, the way his mouth was covered in your slick want as he licked - or rather, devoured - every drop of your desire and the way his fingers grazed the insides of your walls. Fuck it was too much and it made you feel so full - until you suddenly weren’t and you felt a release of sorts. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, sure - but you had felt more overstimulated sexually before, that there was no way you had orgasmed. Until it hit you and you felt an overwhelming wash of shame. You had squirted. At least you think you did, you had never had that happen before.

That was the only logical, and also most embarrassing, reason as to why you felt a release of liquid that you were, at least, certain wasn’t pee. Almost instinctively, you closed your legs and refused to look down at your boyfriend. For Hamzah, he was taken a little bit by surprise by your sudden demeanour change and became worried that he done something wrong. “Baby is everything okay?” He pressed. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m just sorry about that.”

He was still confused. “About what?”

 You stayed quiet for a bit before answering, “Whatever that was. That was probably gross as fuck for you.” Several realisations hit him at once.

He realised that you were referring to yourself squirting. You were embarrassed by it and were probably going to push him away because of aforementioned embarrassment. He took his fingers into his own mouth, cleaning your slick off of them and pressed his mouth against the back of his hand, wiping and promptly got up. “Baby it’s normal.” “I know it’s normal.” You groaned out. “It’s still embarrassing.” “There’s nothing embarrassing about you having a good time.” He assured you, reaching for your hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“I know but it still just is.” 

“Well I want you to know I personally enjoyed it.” He said, with a gentle smile and shrug. “I like knowing you’re enjoying yourself, and me.” You couldn’t help squirm under his reassuring gaze.  “So are you done feeling embarrassed by something that you shouldn’t be feeling embarrassed about.” You took his words in, And honestly? You did feel less embarrassed. “Yeah I do.” He feverishly began to plant kisses against your neck. “You know I love you right?” He asked you. “I do.” “And I don’t want you feeling embarrassed for dumb shit okay?” You nodded. “So can we go again?” He asked you. “And can I make you squirt again because, personally I found it hot as fuck.” With that you chuckled. “Yeah sure.”

 And with that he took you back in.

taglist: @adiormoi @cheesecakeluver @sillyfungirl10112 @xoxoange1l @riddlerloveb0t (lmk if you want to be added)

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a vent fic wip that I may or may not finish so I just need to tell someone that I am...feeling so many things all the time about the consequences of the 16th birthday but...

primarily, right now, at this moment. without Robin/Bruce, Tim thought he would lose Dick and everyone else he knew through Robin. and then a little bit later when he quit for Jack, he got radio silence for Months until he became a potential victim, and even then it was just Cass stopping in to give the message and be like "I'll watch you to keep you safe 👁️👁️ ok bye" and he had actual Proof that without Robin, he would lose everyone.

and then. Dick "you're my equal (even tho I'm drastically changing your life without your knowledge or permission), you're my closest ally (even tho you don't even have a name to go out in the field to assist me as backup), I need you (even tho, as mentioned, I made a huge decision without your input because I didn't need it because I know best actually)" Grayson.

skipping over the fact that Dick didn't even have the time to say "you're fired" or anything resembling that, when Tim lost "Robin" to Damian, he felt like he lost everything else too. it didn't matter what Dick said about "equals" or "allies" or "needing". he already had Concrete Proof that it was all false. cheap words that are easily disproven do nothing in this situation, Dichard!

(disclaimer: I love and respect Dick Grayson, I just also think Dick Stopped Existing as soon as he made Damian his Robin for the most pathetic stupid illogical risky-ass excuse he could ever give for making anyone Robin (or a vigilante in general). "because he'll kill someone again". who the fuck says that?? who thinks "oh no oh god oh fuck this kid is gonna go off the rails he's gonna kill someone, I need to Put Him In A Place Of Power Over Oblivious Innocent Untrained People Who Are Expecting A Kind And Empathetic Hero To Save Them" hUH???? ok sorry, I just wanted to rant about what Tim "losing Robin" meant)

I agree with ya. Dick Grayson is fantastic, but it seems weird that he nuked his entire relationship with Tim (a very strong one that other fans have referred to them as "The Brothers") for the new kid.

Yes, Damian is a ten year old traumatized kid who just lost the dad he didn't really have the chance to get to know. Yes, Damian needed guidance, boundaries, and compassion.

But DC spent so much time and effort building up Tim and Dick's rapport only to obliterate it once the "blood son" came in (I also love Damian. This is not hate on the kid. This is confused commentary on DC's choices). It's just a strange idea, but that's also why it hurts so much when Dick does that to Tim.

Then you tie in Tim losing Robin by Dick to Tim's experiences before? Fuck. You are so right for that.

As far as the RR run, Dick could've handled Tim believing Bruce a bit better. I don't necessarily blame him for that one. I get why he wasn't supportive in the way Tim wanted, even though I would've chosen differently for my siblings.

Dick taking Robin, though? That was fucked up. I, honest to the gods, do not see how that was a justified course of action. I can understand his perspective, but it's still not okay. At all.

There's your very adequate analysis:

Robin, for Tim, is his tie to his loved ones. He has proof (twice) that without it, he does not have access to the people he cares about and his support system.

Dick said a lot of pretty words about "equals," but his actions were precisely contradictory to his "intentions."

Tim has had Robin taken from him before or had to give it up. He chose to go back despite this. He obviously feels strongly about being Robin

Damian has not proven, at this point, to be trustworthy as a vigilante (someone in power without oversight). He has instead shown use of excessive force

This isn't even going into the way he found out. That's just an extra layer.

The way Tim has repeated lost and regained Robin (even after RR) as well as his title as Red ROBIN are, to me, a sign that he's still trying to hold on. It's my belief that he would have moved onto a new title, like his predecessors, if it hadn't constantly been an unsure role.

His start was rocky as hell due to Bruce not initially wanting it. Tim had to prove himself and put himself into the costume.

He "quit" twice before it was taken from him in a traumatic way (nothing like being instilled with the fear that the position you've held for four years can suddenly be yanked out from under you without warning)

Damian and Jason both vehemently protested to him being Robin

It would make sense if all of these factors combined to Tim's unwillingness or inability to just let Robin go, especially when we factor in his reason to be Robin. Since Bruce never really gets "better" and continually falls back into bad habits, Tim needs to maintain his task of pulling Bruce back from the edge. We could also throw Jean Paul into this to further how Tim is forced to play as the barrier between a grown adult and their desire to harm others in the name of good.

So, Tim's time as Robin is marked by consistent instability while contrasted with his inherent position as Bruce's leash and the batfam fixer. While the other Robins did have times of doubt, the predecessors of Tim did not have the pervasive role insecurity with regards to Robin.

They had their big moment at the end and some smaller moments in-between, but not quite on the continous scale of Tim. Tim had three big moments and was still sucked back into Robin when Damian quit.

To be Robin is to earn Bruce's love and the ability to be part of the Wayne family. To lose Robin is the risk of losing that (at least to the perspectives of the Robins if not 100% the reality).

I'm not sure I'm articulating this accurately. Regardless, no wonder Tim clutches the title of Robin with bleeding hands no matter how much it cuts him and costs him.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Run, Rabbit, Run

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @fuckyeahphelpstwins-blog

Request: “Fred Weasley with Playboy reader”

A/N: Thank you for the request! I didn't know whether to go down the ‘reader is a playboy model’ route, or the ‘reader dresses as a playboy bunny’ route. So I just thought “I’ll start writing and see where it takes me”. For one of my earlier twin shorts, I added ‘Bunny’ as a nickname given by George, but I think it's time for Fred to steal it.

T/W: Unprotected sex, Bathroom sex, Mirror sex

Being a businessman had its perks. After paying Harry back for the loan on the shop, the twins felt as if they were rolling in money. For the first few months, all they did was travel and enjoy the perks of having their first taste of freedom and a paycheck. They travelled across the south of England, showing their wares and merchandise to both the young and old, the rich and poor. They were even invited to have lunch with some of the big name toy companies to discuss branching out.

They didn't pay attention to the posters aligning the clubs walls, thinking it to be regular tat about prices and menus. But if they had, they would have seen the promotion of a ‘playboy party’. Maybe then they wouldn't have been so shocked to see various beautiful women strutting around the venue in skimpy leotards and bunny ears. They seemed to have taken the place of the wait staff, some were even flirting with the business men who drooled over their youth and beauty. The businessmen fawned over these young women like they were the first flowers of spring.

The hostess (also adorned with bunny features) led the twins to their booth where a gentleman sat in a crisp suit, a whiskey glass resting in his hands. The twins had had plenty of business meetings before, but this one felt contradictory. It was professional, yet the giggling bunnies that surrounded them felt almost like having a meeting in the middle of a themed strip club night. Maybe Fred would have kept his thought track on the business straight and narrow if you hadn't wandered over to his table.

That tight little black leotard and that irresistible pom pom of a tail just drove him wild. You even reminded him of a bunny. Innocent, tender. The picture of naivety that just called to him. Sure, you weren't dressed so innocently, but he could tell by that little glimmer in your eye that you didn't walk as big a walk as your heels suggested. Fred could hear your heels before he even laid eyes on you, and he fell hard.

You had always dreamed of being a model, to see your photo in the latest magazine or even on a big billboard. Some told you to dream on while others decided to open the door for you. Sure, prancing around in a bunny costume wasn't exactly modelling, but these were the type of people that could hand you your dream on a silver platter. And besides, flaunting never hurt anyone.

The ginger pair that came through the doors of the club didn't exactly look well to do. Their dull orange suits stood out in a sea of black pinstripes and navy linen. They didn’t scream money, but your legs carried you to their table before you could even stop them. You leaned down, your elbows on the table.

“See anything on the menu you like, gentlemen?”

While George and the potential investor gave their orders, Freds eyes stayed glued to you. Your eyes, your face, your curves, your legs. Anything that wasn't hidden was a feast for his eyes. He didn't need a menu to know what he wanted, but taking his order home with him would take some persuading. Fred’s eyes looked back up at yours only to find them looking right at him, an expectant look at your face. He kept his cool, a sly grin on his face.

“Well rabbits not on the menu, but i'm sure a pretty bunny like yourself wouldn't mind making an exception if I fancied a little taste”

Although you were used to comments like these, they made you blush every time. You let out your usual giggle and brushed your hand against his arm.

“Oh stop it or you’ll make this bunny blush”

Fred knew how cliche this was. He was no better than a hound dog. But instead of barking at this bunny, the bunny was driving him barking mad. He watched you saunter off, that fluffy little tail on your leotard capturing his attention. When the round of drinks came out a moment later, he couldn't believe his eyes when he lifted his glass only to find a note tucked into the fold of the napkin.

‘Meet me by the bathrooms X’

Now that was an offer he couldn’t turn down. Fred excused himself and left George to discuss business. The sight of you leaning against the wall beside the women's bathroom made his smirk widen. He pushed the door to the women's room open and gestured inside, following you in after.

Luckily for the both of you, the door had a lock. Meaning that no tiny bathroom stall was needed. As soon as that lock clicked, his hands went to your waist to lift you onto the sink counter. No words were needed as your lips found his. Red lipstick smeared and transferred, painting his own lips. Your hands snaked around his neck to pull his face closer. You wanted to see just how many lipstick kisses you could leave on his skin.

Fred pulled back and lifted you from the counter to turn you around and bend you over, your face inches from the mirror. Your hair was slightly messed up but your lipstick took the most of the carnage. Fred really couldn't help himself as his hands massaged their way up your thighs. That soft little bunny tail was just sitting there, he couldn't not tug on it.

The tight leotard fortunately wasn't too tight around your crotch, meaning that he could pull the gusset to the side and give himself access to the thing he craved most in this moment. Considering you had people fawning over you every day, he was honoured to find you wet for him. Fred’s fingers trailed through your folds, collecting your juices like a man finding water in the desert. He brought those fingers to his lips and sucked your sweet juices from them. This little bunny was sweeter than strawberries and cream.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled his throbbing cock out before his hands returned to their natural place on your hips.

“Maybe if you beg nicely, little bunny, I’ll give you a nice big cock to hop on”

Fred may have been just as eager as you were, but he just knew you'd sound so pretty if you begged him to fuck you. He wanted to hear you say his name…which he had yet to tell you. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot.

“Beg Freddie to fuck your little bunny cunt and I’ll let you cum before I go”

He could hear the soft whine that slipped from your lips, making him chuckle and press his lips behind your ear. He had to hold himself back from sliding deep inside of you. Good girls begged for what they wanted.

“Please fuck me, Freddie. Fuck my little bunny cunt until I soak my little cotton tail”

Fred’s eyes lit up when you did as he asked. How could he refuse such pretty begging? He lined his tip up with your eager entrance and thrust in with such force, you nearly kissed the mirror screwed to the wall before you. It was hard to stop the moan that was threatening to escape your throat, one that could alert any passing patrons to your unprofessional activity. There was most likely a queue already forming outside of the ladies room.

His cock pummelled your insides, making more of your juices coat his shaft. His grip on your hips was tight while his other hand tangled in your hair to pull your head up.

“Look at that pretty face. I bet you wouldn't let those other guys smudge your lipstick. You wouldn't bend over the counter for them, would you bunny?”

You looked at him in the reflection, trying to keep your eyes from closing in bliss. Every thrust of his hips made it hard to talk in anything other than whines and moans. His cock pulsed inside of your tight hole.

“No, just you, Freddie. No one else. Please, I need to cum”

Fred chuckled and gripped your hair tighter, using it to fuck himself deeper.

“Well, well, well, turns out my little bunny is actually a minx. You wanna cum on my cock, you’ve gotta be a good girl and look at me while you make a mess”

Your eyes stayed glued to his, watching every expression that crossed his face as he pummelled your insides. The way his brown eyes glazed over and his mouth fell open with every squeeze of your walls. His grip on your hip tightened before he came, his cum painting your insides as your own orgasm hit. The scent of sex permeated the air, the sound of your panting bounced off of the tiles.

Fred pulled his cock out of you before readjusting your gusset back into place. He was determined to keep a little piece of himself inside of you while other men undressed you with their eyes. He smirked at the sight of your face. Your mascara had started to run from just how good it felt. He stroked his hand along your hips, holding you up as you came down from your high. He tucked himself back into his trousers before pulling something out of his pocket and stuffing it into your bra.

With one last wink, he left you in the bathroom. You pulled the item out of your bra to find the napkin you gave him earlier. Flipping it over, you found something that made you grin.

A phone number, followed by ‘Call me, Little Bunny’

[dream-with-a-fever]

in defence of ginny weasley (ft fleur delacour)

never thought i would feel strongly enough about this topic to comment on it, but the ginny bashing in this fandom is just insane so i thought why the hell not. ginny seems to get hate for everything under the sun from being being a mary sue who can do no wrong in anyone’s eyes (meaning she’s boring and uninteresting as a character) to being a nasty bully responsible for hurting those around her (??? and they’re both completely contradictory statements btw). when the latter is brought up, ginny’s “terrible” mistreatment of fleur is always front and centre. ‘she’s nasty, she’s cruel, she is a jealous bully etc!’ and i just feel like we should put on our thinking caps and actually take a step back for a fucking second. people may disagree with me, but i think ginny’s reaction to fleur was totally understandable — and reminder, she is a TEENAGE girl, (not to mention both mrs weasley and hermione held fleur in the same regard but no one seems to focus on that side of things).

now in the books, we do see ginny mocking fleur, calling her ‘phlegm’ behind her back, imitating her gait and elegance, expressing her annoyance at her newfound presence in their lives.

let’s look at why she might have reacted that way. first of all, in general, we see that the w are a very humble and welcoming family; they don’t have much but what they do have, they are more than willing to share with others. their financial circumstance plays a massive role in how the characters in the wea clan react and interact with others (as seen with their refusal to accept money from harry etc). their sense of pride in that regard is also quite prevalent. we see that when harry first goes to the burrow, ron is slightly embarrassed by his home, painfully aware of the way many people in the wizarding community view/judge them. when harry goes on to say it’s best place he’s ever seen, we immediately see how touched ron is. ginny is the same in that sense — embarrassed that she has second hand robes & books etc, but at the same time she, like ron, is fiercely protective of what they do have, and what they as a family stand for. they are also very protective of people they love inside and outside of the family (see, ron with ginny, mrs weasleys with all of them etc).

this is relevant because one of the reasons ginny and in turn mrs weasley, have a problem with fleur is the way she talks to them. despite them inviting her into their home, fleur makes her distaste clear even if it is in small ways. she says it’s boring at their house as there’s nothing to do, she often talks disparagingly about how things are done in the weasley household, she loudly mocks celestina warbeck (who mrs weasley loves to play at christmas time) and insults her, she speaks badly about tonks several times etc. her words and mannerisms are also viewed by some (ginny etc) as very pretentious and arrogant — also rather posh, a sign of her family’s wealth (which might have been a sore spot for ginny also).

now don’t get me wrong. i love fleur as a character. i think she’s really cool, charming and brave, and i wish we got to see more of her honestly!! i think she makes a lovely contrast to the other younger characters, and i think she undergoes some nice character development in the books we do see her in. it’s also very clear to me, that when she acts the way she does, it is never out of malice or cruelty— it comes from a place of openness and honesty — which often comes across as quite blunt. it’s a cultural disconnect in many ways; when she inadvertently insults people throughout the books, i think it’s pretty obvious she isn’t trying to hurt anyone’s feelings. but i also think it’s obvious how this attitude might annoy those around her.

calling ginny is a big bad bully for disliking fleur (in the beginning), when her behaviour towards the weasley family would make anyone a bit frustrated, is a bit far. not to mention, her individual treatment of ginny is understandably annoying - ginny complains that fleur is very condescending when speaking to her (‘you’d think i were about three!’).

there’s also the fact that ginny is bill’s little sister. he is her favourite brother (as seen from the way she respects him and his opinions, looks up to him - she wanted to go to hogwarts ever since bill went!). ginny having a reaction to her brother’s new girlfriend is very normal - he’s her big brother! all his attention is now on his new girlfriend - who ginny finds to be full of herself, patronising & annoying. part of her may also be worried that fleur will end up breaking his heart in the end — because she’s protective of her brother.

add the fact that her brother and old crush and basically every man ever is drawn to her because of her godly beauty (as a part veela), her and bill’s wont to shower each other in public displays of affection (who wants to see their brother doing this!?) and the fact that ginny always gotten along with tonks (the person her and molly had in mind for bill’s future partner) has always treated her kindly and as an equal, and therefore would much prefer as a sister-in-law — it’s not that surprising that ginny feels the way she does towards fleur.

nevertheless, do i think this is something ginny would grow out of? yes, of course. we already see changes in their relationship in the final book. besides, a lot of this stuff is surface level, as ginny and fleur don’t know all that much about each other — i think fleur’s love for bill (especially shown in the hospital wing after he’s been attacked by greyback) definitely changes the way ginny regards her. i also like to think that they grew closer as they got older, as with age comes maturity, and with maturity comes understanding. i also feel that fleur was someone who really stepped up when it came to supporting the weasleys after fred’s death, something that ginny would have appreciated. i see them having a nice relationship later in life.

ANYWAY, this was an exceedingly long rant for which i apologise but i have often seen people talk about how nasty ginny is to fleur, and i think it’s so unfair to not look at the context which leads to her being a little frustrated at her future sister in law. plus, she is allowed to dislike someone who she does not get along with and who she finds unpleasant to be around. we all have people like that in our lives but god forbid ginny does…not to mention, ginny is never openly rude to her EVER, and she’s allowed to voice her frustrations to her friends/family. the fact people call her an outright bully for this is just insane.

people on here will defend so many other dubious characters but the second a teenage character with good intentions makes a mistake / doesn’t act perfectly (i.e ron, ginny), they are suddenly the epitome of evil in human form, i mean get a grip, honestly. also one last quick thing(!!!), i do note some people blame jkr for writing her female characters this way, as we’ve seen the way she seems to frown upon conventional/typical displays of femininity (lavender and parvati being seen as ‘silly’ girls with frivolous thoughts, cho chang as overly emotional - despite having a very rational reaction to the death of her boyfriend, fleur as overly feminine and therefore less serious/intelligent). her heroines are women who often conceal or discard these more feminine traits — and i will say that despite loving these characters very much, i do think some more nuance here, could have been very beneficial to the story, and to the message being sent to young female/female identifying readers. there is strength in femininity, and rejecting feminine traits does not make you more or less a person.

okay, rant over. if you actually got to the end, bless you, if not — well, that’s totally fair (lol). also please don’t kill me in the comment section if you disagree. this is just my two cents. ok that’s all.

[homunculus-argument]

I like that in english, those trodden paths that appear on the grass in city areas where there isn't an official paved road but people walk there anyhow are called desire paths, and I like seeing them. They remind me of one of the core rules of city planning and people management in general, that a lot of people who actually are in the positions of planning these things seem to forget:

People don't walk on roads. Roads form where people walk.

If there's a pathway trodden somewhere by human foot, that's the most sensible path for people to go. If you block the desire path from one spot, you'll have two, as another one is trod right next to it. If you don't want people walking on a path that isn't paved road, the only sensible thing to do is to pave the path that is already there. And the same applies to everything that people do.

People will do the sensible thing, first and foremost. And first and foremost they'll do what's sensible to them, and for themselves, and if that is contradictory for the common good, the task of anyone who's in a leadership role is to figure out how to make these two things stop being contradictory. Figure out a way to make the common good and the individual's good the same thing.

If you just make a law that prohibits people from doing what works best for them, they'll decide it's a stupid-ass law and elect to ignore it. People fear legal punishment much less than they hate doing stupid shit that doesn't make sense to them. But if you use laws to set boundaries to what people wanted to do in the first place, they'll probably shrug and at least follow the guidelines in doing what they were about to do anyway. Block a desire path and you'll have two of them. Pave the desire path and you have a paved road.

People don't live in societies. Societies form where people live.

[gin-juice-tonic]

So, while it's certainly not my intention to talk about pages of the bill book basically every day, it seems every time I write one post I end up thinking about something else. Here's the next something else.

This time it's these two pages. There are several things that are odd to me here. Not necessarily on their own, but when compared with the journal.

First and foremost, I want to use something that struck me here for a quick bit of doyalist analysis. (I know, I know.) Several people have said to me they didn't believe Alex had gone back and read through journal 3 again, and this could be a reason why things are so different and contradictory. But the thing is, these pages hold lines that are strikingly similar.

That top image is small, so I'm going to zoom in on what I mean. These are lines from that first book of bill page:

Here is a line from the "hiding places" page of journal 3:

and here is another line, from the page after this one:

You could argue that the thing about the caves is a plot point, and something Alex might've remembered. But part of Ford's motivation to get going to the caves so soon being the snowfall? Well, I certainly didn't remember that anyway. It's pretty a minute detail. Could its inclusion mean nothing? Maybe. But maybe not.

And if you read past my carefully placed initial highlighting, you'll also notice that lines inclusion is slightly different in the two versions.

Like I said, in journal 3, the pushing factor in getting Ford to make his trip with haste is worrying about the soon to be inclement weather.

But in the Book of Bill he mentions "little time". Why? Because of what's been written down on the previous page:

Im not going to paste the whole thing in here, because it's very heavy. But Ford has been given an express time limit by Bill.

Why then, is the snow even worth bringing up in the first place? I'm having a hard time getting the words together. But I just find it all very odd.

But the similarities between these pages and the ending of the first act of journal 3 aren't all I want to talk about. There's more differences than just the specifics of the snow line.

So, Differences:

This first one is small, but notable to me at least. On the matter of Fiddleford, here's what the Book of Bill had to say:

And here's what Journal 3 had to say:

Fiddleford being "gone" is a lot different from Fiddleford "refusing to speak" to Stanford. The former implying Ford couldn't reach out even if he wanted, the later implying he's made attempts that have failed.

And it's important to remember that the narrative is the Book of Bill pages were ripped out. Ford has written Fiddleford is missing, rips out the page, and decides upon next re-write that Fiddleford just isn't talking to him?

.

The next thing is a really big difference, and requires the addition of two more original Journal 3 pages. It also requires a new question to be asked: "Where do the two Bill pages I've shown fit within the journal?"

Here are the new pages that will be submitted into evidence added into this post:

Though I want to mainly focus on this second one,

The page where Ford's plan all starts to come together. It's worth noting this page comes before the "Hiding places" page I've shown before.

The order of events as laid out by Journal 3 are:

Ford goes to and escapes the truck stop and notices the twin motel sign, realizing he can contact Stan -> Ford lays out where he's going to hide the journals and that he's going to make the trek up to Bill's cave -> Ford fully discloses his plan to hand journal 1 off to Stan.

The Bill Book pages I've been discussing are directly after the page of Bill tormenting Ford within his mind. (Again, not going to post that page due to the subject matter). But we see that the top of the first page says "I awoke from the hallucination" so chronologically it's safe to assume there were also no non-missing pages in between them.

which means the order of events as laid out by the Book of Bill are:

Bill torments Ford within his mind -> Ford futilely searches for clues to Fiddlefords whereabouts -> Ford announces he must make his trip to the caves -> Ford realizes he must contact Stan.

The Bill book is stating "Ford came up with his plan first, and realized he needed to add Stan second."

The journal is stating "Ford was able to come up with his plan upon realizing Stan can help him."

These are very different ideas. And while it's framed in a bit of a cheesy way, I think that Journal 3's idea is very important. Despite everything stacked up against him at this point, Ford was able to keep going and come up with his plan upon realizing that he's not all alone. And specifically, working together with Stan has been the key to defeating Bill since the beginning.

If we are to take the Book of Bill's idea as truth, what of the trip to the truck stop diner and the twin motel sign? When is this supposed to have happened? Is it trying to claim it didn't at all? It's a bit silly, but I don't find it to be fake personally. Nor do I think Ford would have any reason to waste time and pages concocting a fake narrative at this point in his story. In both narratives, Bill is tormenting him every time he loses consciousness, he is exhausted from both the abuse and his general lack of sleep. He does not have time to spare.

But that's not the end.

This book of Bill page:

And this Journal page:

Are sort of paired off again, aren't they?

Supposedly, the "Should I contact S?" Bill page takes place before this journal page with the perpetual motion machine, as this page says Ford has already "Sent word to him".

Ford includes his own mini pros and cons list here, with notably more pros

There are also less cons. The idea Bill might get to Stan, or the idea Stan might destroy the portal no longer seem to be concerns.

Do the pages contradict? Well, not really aside from the order of events I've laid out. But that's sorta the thing, right?

Ultimately the two pages I've been discussing stand out to me because they're re-writes of things already in J3. Very similar except for the big hole of cutting out Ford's motel story.

Ford's supposedly on a mad 72 hour time-limit dash to make all his final arrangements to best Bill. He is at the end of his rope from the nonstop torment he's been subjected to. Does he really have both the time and the energy to be re-writing journal pages just because he didn't like them, let alone adding in entire new false narratives? And even if he does, why would he change it so that remembering Stan becomes the catalyst for his plan to outwit Bill?

[stellas-and-tonitruses]

⚠ SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 93 AHEAD! ⚠

now that we have finally met demetrius, it seems like a great time to dissect his first scene and proper conversation! :]

his wide, unfocused stare hides ✨unexpected complexity✨, as expected of a desmond

he's impatient (common desmond trait at this point)

he's nonchalantly exceptional, as we expected and have been repeatedly told thus far

...but most importantly, amidst a sea of accomplishments, he is burdened with a lack of people skills and visibly frustrated by it, as evidenced by his conversation with damian in this chapter.

the analysis and speculation continues under the cut!!

so, a breakdown of the main meat of his introduction

similarly to every single time there's an interaction between damian and another desmond, damian is the one who reaches out first by calling out to demetrius, who immediately asks him what he wants. damian tries to begin with small talk, congratulating him on his accomplishments of the day

demetrius is brief and to the point, but it doesn't feel to me like he is annoyed here. perhaps curious, perhaps indifferent, we don't know -- demetrius is a boy of few explanatory thoughts, after all

merely in the next page, demetrius is revealed to have a blank mind for most of this conversation.

i don't believe this is a sign that demetrius was experimented on or anything. obviously, this does not rule out that he has been experimented on, but i don't think his lack of thoughts are indicative of that, nor do i believe anya was too far away (in previous chapters, she has read the thoughts of people at greater distances than this with ease!). i think this has something to do with his upbringing, but also very importantly his state of mind at the moment

his eyes are wide open, but his stare is unfocused. i think this is an intentional choice to hammer in that he's not really here at this moment, listening to what is undoubtedly to him pointless praise. he has likely tuned all of it out completely.

(as a side note, if we wanna involve anya in this situation more, we could assume that he is intentionally cloaking his thoughts from anya or any other potential mind-readers, but while i do think donovan is very likely involved in project apple, i severely doubt the financial benefactors of project apple would spend likely a lot of money to figure out a way to shield the thoughts of a middle schooler, regardless of who his dad is, from potential telepaths. as far as we know, anya is the only one with this specific power and demetrius is unlikely to have any information that would incriminate the operation. if that was an issue, i don't see why they wouldn't spend their money to protect melinda's mind, since she likely has way more info than demetrius ever could.)

moving on from that side note though,

we do not see demetrius' face as he says this! this is important to me

we are left unaware to whether or not he is disappointed or just trying to abscond to take a nap (he really needs one)

but then, he says this:

this, to me, is a direct attempt at connecting!! he's trying to reciprocate the small talk, the praise, trying to continue the conversation. his thought, "i don't understand him," may feel contradictory but to me, it only underlines his frustration about this, because he knows what damian is going to say next:

even though it was expected, this is not what demetrius was hoping to get out of this. his downturned eyebrows give a feeling of discontent. he is not blank, he is visibly frustrated, visibly annoyed.

and we are thus made aware of a boundary demetrius and melinda both share:

never mention donovan.

for one reason or another, this is the boundary damian has overstepped with both his mother AND his brother now, without ever being informed that it IS a boundary in the first place

so demetrius, upset, turns around to leave and throws this at damian:

this is important, because damian has shared a very similar sentiment to anya before, albeit in a mournful tone.

demetrius likely feels similarly neglected by his parents, but is long past feeling sad about it. he has moved straight to anger, understandably!

but the bigger reason for his frustration, imo, relates to a problem damian once again ALSO has: people treating them as a gateway to their father and nothing more.

demetrius has more than likely also been treated like this, and probably still is unless his peers have learned not to engage because of his brief, snippy responses, so he is familiar with the feeling of being used.

...and damian unknowingly treated him the exact same way, even though he's also grown to hate it.

of course, he's 6 years old and he meant no harm by this -- he's just a lonely boy trying to be noticed by his neglectful parents, after all, what else could he possibly do?

but for demetrius, this is the end of the conversation. he is not his father's manager, he's not even that close to him, so why does his brother only ever talk to him when it relates to their father?

as he said before: he doesn't understand him, and why he keeps doing this. does he not know there is little info to be gained?

he doesn't understand their father either, with his impossibly high expectations, never pleased, never happy, never available

and lastly, as ewen and emile try to introduce themselves

demetrius has one final thought.

and he casts aside this entire conversation, leaving the scene as empty as he entered it.

of course, the chapter doesn't end here, but this is where demetrius' involvement in it does, leaving us with a newfound understanding that while to damian, demetrius represents everything he can only strive to become... to demetrius? his accomplishments ring hollow in the face of everything he wishes he could understand.

we do get an extra flashback that hearkens back to a better yesterday, but while donovan is lacking some very important details (those scars, that dead disinterest that follows his every move -- he seems mirthful somehow here), we don't know if this scene represents a time when they were closer or if it's simply evidence that as far back as everyone can remember, demetrius has been doing nothing but studying all the time

could this be evidence of something nefarious relating to project apple? eh, not particularly, not to me. the boy's just studying hard, any relation to project apple would have to be more recent in the timeline imo

TL;DR:

demetrius has been built up throughout the past 92 chapters as a figure larger-than-life, and this has been thanks to most of our knowledge of him being directly affected by damian's perception of him, as the younger brother living under his shadow

however, he has now been humanized by his flaws: a short temper and a lack of social skills that comes paired with a clear want to connect, to understand, to converse. he seems to be a very lonely kid, everyone around him either jealous, putting him on a pedestal or actively seeking to use him under the false impression that he has important connections, and although he doesn't mean to, damian has unknowingly been treating demetrius in the same way, only seeking him out when he wants to know something about donovan.

interestingly, him and melinda share the same trigger, that being donovan himself, though we do not yet know if their reason for this is also shared.

CLOSING THOUGHTSSS

it has been so exciting finally meeting this little goober-- i thought i might never see the day 😭😭😭

thank you to whoever read this far, i literally made this blog just now so! HOPE I DID WELL!

💖

[theconstantsidekick]

Lit Cigarettes (Part 1)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x BestFriend!Reader, Damon Salvatore x Stefan Salvatore x Sister!Reader (mentioned) Genre: Angsty Fluff

Summary: Y/n decides that Dean Winchester really needs to know how she feels about him.

(Set after the events of Supernatural season 4 and yes, Y/n is technically a Salvatore. I love the adopted sibling trope, can you tell?)

a/n: I have another part in mind if this does well.

Warnings: Smoking, mentions of smoking, romanticisation of smoking, a lot of that yes, sorry. Don't smoke kids.

Part 2 is here

He used to light her cigarettes when she was too busy talking. That’s what love is. According to her, that is the truest, most genuine form of love. The idea might sound quite contradictory, somehow. But it would make sense to smokers all around the world. 

The thought that somebody would just pluck the cigarette out of your hand, light it, take a little puff to keep the light aflame and just place it back between your index and middle finger. That’s somehow so painfully selfless that it can’t be classified as anything other than the most romantic act known to mankind. 

Now, the tragedy of it all was that that was the only showing of love she ever got from him. All she ever got was a lit cigarette handed off to her while she was too invested in spewing absolutely random bullshit about the sensors on automatic doors at some blackwater motel in an unnamed town. He’d do it quietly. He wasn’t quiet but there was always a quietness about him. Not quiet in the truest definition of the word. He was quiet in a different way, he talked. He was always charming, never not charming. He smiled and charmed everyone further still, but it felt like a very well rehearsed performance. His words, his charm, his smile seemed rehearsed, practiced relentlessly. A stark contrast to how they talked, when he talked to her and just her. Or well, so she thought until she found out that he could talk with a genuine smile to just about anyone unless there was a room full of people. Until the day she found that out, she felt quite special about it.

She felt important to him, enough for him to talk around her more, smoke around her more and light her cigarettes when she was too busy talking.

He never smoked around anyone else, hid the bad habit from his brother, but never her. It made her feel like there was a precarious unspoken bond between the two of them that could break at the mere mention of it. Could it?

She’s going to find out.

“Dean,” she calls out in no urgency, with a quiet calm. They are packing up their things, leaving the small motel room behind for another one in another town. Sam’s out at the reception, settling the bill. He’ll be back soon, she needs to wrap this up before he comes back. 

“Yeah?” Dean answers, never looking up from the duffle bag he’s aggressively shoving his clothes into.

“I love you.”

Dean’s motion halted at once. He doesn’t move, she thinks maybe he can’t move.

“Dean?”

The man in front of her gulps, audibly. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” It feels important to reiterate in this case. 

“I—” Words seem to be straining him. “I heard you the first time.”

“Good,” she tells him and then resumes packing her shit. But there’s a few more things to add, “I know we don’t talk about it, I know we aren’t supposed to. I know you’ve always known that I loved you and we still never talk about it, which means you don’t feel the same way, which again, I know. I am not trying to change your mind, I’m not trying to get into your pants. I’m certainly not asking you to love me back. I am not asking for anything actually, so you can quit looking so fucking terrified. I just needed to tell you because you up and died and it felt like my life stopped, like I couldn’t fucking breathe anymore. I felt hollow and broken and it felt wrong to be alive…” He looks at her then. Her voice is so thick with emotions, even though she is trying to keep them at bay, he must have felt compelled to look at her, she muses.

Shaking her head, she exhales audibly. “But you’re back now and I just needed to say it. I’ve loved you since I first saw you when I was 13. I don’t know how to not be in love with you, trust me, I’ve tried. So, I've learnt to make peace with it. I definitely don’t need you to say something, I just needed you to know that I love you, always have, most probably I always will. I need you to know that you are loved.”

There is silence then, no words, just the sound of her footsteps as she goes around the room picking up things she wants to shove into her bag.

“I…” Dean tries. But the words fade away just as quickly as the thoughts strike him. She looks at him for a second but the silence that proceeded makes her look away. She has just dropped a huge bomb, not that it was some revelatory information but it was something they had avoided talking about for literally ever, so it was fair that he needed some time to come up with a response. She is more than happy to give it to him.

But then Sam walks back into the room. “I’m pretty sure the dude at the reception thinks we’re a freaking thruple.” He walks to the washroom to collect his toiletry pouch and begins packing as well. “I mean, I’m not sure I can blame him? But I want to?” He shrugs. “Dean and I really don’t look all that alike, maybe that’s it? But this is like, the seventh motel in a row that’s given me really weird looks, you know? I don’t know whether to be flattered or plain disgusted—” His words drop off, as he finally notices the atmosphere in the room.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks looking from his brother to his best friend.

“Yes,” Dean replies at the same time as she says, “No.”

“NO?!” Dean balks at her.

“Can you guys drop me off at the bus stop? I gotta head to Mystic Falls,” she says, zipping up her bag and exiting the room.

Dean follows her instantly. “Mystic Falls? I thought you weren’t talking to your brothers?” Running up to catch up with her, he races even further ahead to open the trunk of his car for her. 

“Yeah, but that was last week,” she tells him as if that was enough explanation. She places her bag in the trunk.

“They kicked you out!” Dean seems on edge. She can’t completely understand why. 

She looks at him. “It’s Stef’s birthday.”

“He’s had a couple hundred of those,” Dean argues.

She smiles, “I hope he has a couple hundred more, and I’ll try to attend them all.”

“Damon forgot yours!” 

She shrugs. “I’ll pretend to forget his. But this is Stefan. And besides, Caroline invited me. You want me to bail and piss her off?”

He slams the trunk shut. “Fine!” He acquiesces, albeit very aggressively. “But I’m dropping you to the Boarding House, not a fucking bus stop.”

Meanwhile, Sam comes out, carrying his own luggage as well as Dean's—who had apparently completely forgotten about it. He opens the trunk again, eyeing Dean and her very suspiciously.

She moves to open the back door of the Impala. “You’re going to Ohio, it’s like a three hour detour.”

“It’s two hours with me behind the wheel. Get in,” he commands, leaving no room for any argument. 

“I was doing that anyway,” she says almost to herself, getting in the back. 

Dean stops her. “Get in the front. Sam’ll sit in the back.”

“I will?” Sam questions, lost.

Dean doesn’t care. He just gets in the driver seat, not waiting on either of the two. A look passes between Sam and her. He raises a brow in question, she just smiles and shrugs again in response and gets in.

Later, when Sam’s already asleep in the backseat, Dean clears his throat.

“So.”

She doesn’t turn around to look at him, she isn’t sure she was supposed to, and it’s drizzling, she doesn’t want to turn away from the window, not yet. “So.”

She can feel him shift uncomfortably next to her. “You gonna say anything?” He asks.

She thinks for a second. “I don’t think I have anything left to say, really. I said everything I had to say.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Dean yells out.

She has to look at him then, with ire in her eyes. “SHhhh!! He’s sleeping!” She whisper-yells at him, pointing to Sam in the back seat. 

Trying to compose himself once again, Dean whisper-yells back at her, “What do you mean you’ve said everything you had to?”

“I said it, in the motel,” She explains.

“And that was it? The end of the conversation?” Dean questions, seeming very agitated.

“I mean, yeah! What else am I supposed to do?” She throws back, his agitation is quite contagious. It always has been. 

“You really think that was a reasonable end to that conversation?!” Dean bites.

She’s getting annoyed now. “What do you want? You want me to elaborate? Write a thesis paper on it? Or—or would you like to read my diary where I scribbled ‘Y/n Winchester’ a million times? What exactly is the resolution you’re looking for here?”

“You wrote ‘Y/n Winchester’ in your diary a million times…?” He asks, almost as if he cannot comprehend the idea of it. 

From anyone else she would’ve taken that as an insult. Had it been anyone else they might have actually been making fun of her. But it’s not anyone else. It’s Dean. So she’s compelled to look at him.

“Yeah, Dean. And it was just as embarrassing then as it is right now. But I was the nerdy teenager and you were the hot jock who the cheerleaders at Mystic Falls High were dying to date.” Just the thought of those days makes her morose. “I don’t like to think about those days.”

Then there is silence again.

Until Dean clears his throat, slowly he says, “But I never drove any of them home.” And damn it all to hell, it makes her smile. And damn it all to hell, her smile apparently makes him more confident in his approach. “I didn’t wait for them outside their place, blaring AC/DC at the crack of dawn, all to get milkshakes before school… It was you. I wanted to hang out with you.”

But that’s somehow the wrong thing to say, “Never at school.”

“What?” Dean asks, thrown off.

“You didn’t talk to me at school.” Admitting it, it breaks something in her all over again. It’s like she’s in highschool again. She hates it.

“That’s not true! We had lunch together everyday!” He defends.

“Nope,” she tells him. “You had lunch with the cheer squad while I sat on the table next to you silently eating really bad beans.”

“But I was there,” He tries.

“You were,” she concedes. “You were there but you weren’t there.”

Silence falls once again.

“I don’t blame you,” she is the one that breaks it. “For high school.”

“Why not?” Dean asks, sounding genuinely more hurt at the fact that she doesn’t blame him than the fact that she accused him of ignoring her.

“It’s a weird time for everyone, and I think Mystic Falls High was the first time you got to actually enjoy it. You stayed there long enough to stop being the new kid and I think it was also the first time you felt like you fit in. I didn’t, and that was never your fault… or your problem for that matter,” she explains, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

“That’s not fair,” Dean opposes.

“What?”

“Your problems are my problems.”

And the finality of his statement gives her a weird sort of confidence to say, “Sheesh. Wonder why I ended up falling in love with you.” 

The car skids a little.

She can’t help it, she laughs.

“YOU CAN’T JUST SAY SHIT LIKE THAT!” Dean argues.

She’s still laughing, “I’m sorry. But… Come on! It was kinda funny.” 

“I did not find that funny! Not even a little bit! What’s so funny about being—” He cuts himself off.

She laughs a little harder. “That’s what’s funny! You can’t even say it! You wanna know what’s so funny about being in love with you? I can’t stop it. It’s…” She sits up to position her back towards the window and moves herself to face Dean better. “It’s like breathing. I have tried, time and time again, to stop, and for a while I can. I can try to hold my breath when I’m being mindful of it. I can remember not to breathe when I’m focused on not breathing but the moment my brain gets engaged anywhere else, I’m screwed. The moment I look away, the moment I burn my toast, or start reading a book or watch a film, the moment I’m in a rush to meet Bonnie, the moment my mind becomes occupied with anything other than the conscious thought reminding me not to breathe—BAM! I’m falling in love with you again. It’s so fucking easy, it’s so fucking comfortable. Loving you is the my most cherished accomplishment because I’ve done it so fucking well for so freaking long.” She smiles. “I feel like I deserve a prize.”

Dean stays silent.

Her smile fades.

She shakes her head, she knew what he felt. She’s always known how he feels. A long silence shouldn’t be the thing that aches her heart. Not after having been in love with this man for this long.

“Did you—” He cuts himself short. She turns to him again, eager for him to continue. And her silent pleas are heard loudly. Continue he does, “Did you decide to tell me… about this today cause we met 15 years ago today?”

“No,” she brushes him off. “I just needed to get this off my—” Suddenly his words strike her like a thunderbolt. “What do you mean 15 years ago today?”

He shrugs, eyes on the road. “A day before Stefan’s birthday, that’s when we met for the first time.”

“You… You remember the day we met?” She asks, dumbfounded.

Dean doesn’t answer, instead the car comes to a stop. He’s pulled into the parking lot of a 7Eleven. “I’ll be right back.”

Only when she watches Dean get out of the car and walk into the store does she realise that it’s the 7Eleven in Mystic Falls. They are only a few minutes away from the Salvatore Boarding house, barely 12 minutes away from her brothers’ place. 

She can’t believe she feels this way but a part of her feels like she’s running out of time. But running out of time for what? It’s Dean! He’ll be there to pick her up two days later. He’ll be there to light her cigarettes in a crowd—and not mean absolutely anything by it—in two days time. It’s not that long. They’ve dropped her off to live with her brothers’ for weeks even. Two days is nothing. It’s barely a visit. Then why in God’s name does she feel like there’s a clock right above her head counting down. And counting down to what??

“Here you go,” Dean says, as he gets in and throws something in her lap. 

She catches out of reflex. “Cigarettes?” It’s two packs of menthols, her current favorite.

“What about ‘em? You like these right?” He pulls out of the parking lot. “You quit Marlboro Reds a month ago, and switched to these so I thought they’d be a safer bet. Was I wrong?” 

It’s natural though. The most natural thing in the world. Dean buys her cigarettes. He always buys her cigarettes.

The thing about smoking that most people don’t understand is that it opens a whole new world. It’s bad obviously and no one should do it. But when you do it, when you smoke, there are a few things, a few rules that might not mean anything to a non-smoker but mean everything to a smoker. 

Take for instance, ‘Puff-Puff-Pass’. 

For any random person, the intricacies of ‘Puff-Puff-Pass’ exists to the extent of its name. But only a smoker knows that in an intimate setting, between two friends, the rule doesn’t apply. It’s rude not to follow the rule in a social gathering amongst semi-strangers, but among the two of them, it never applied.

Similarly, buying someone cigarettes is the purest gesture of care. 

Having a pack ready for consumption whenever she came back from a visit to the Salvatore Boarding House? To her that always felt like the loudest way that Dean could tell her that he cared for her. 

And he did these things often. Even when he quit smoking, he’d light her cigarettes for her. For as long as Dean has known she smokes, she has never lit a cigarette for herself. These gestures of… call it love, call it self-destruction, they have never not been there. So him buying her cigarettes is the most natural thing in the world but it throws her off still.

“Y/n?”

“What?” She suddenly remembers there was a question there, in his words before. “Oh yeah. Menthols… I smoke menthols now, yes. Good guess.”

He noticed me change my cigarettes? She asks herself, feeling something very close to giddy. Before she has to scream at herself inside, cause Dean has always done this and it has never meant anything. It’s just his small way of adhering to his duty of care.

“Thanks,” she tells him belatedly. She doesn’t fail to notice how the words make his nose scrunch up—the way it usually does when he dislikes something.

“You said you’ve tried not loving me,” Dean states and that’s all it is—a statement, an observation.

But she feels compelled to explain herself, “It’s not easy,” she tells him. “You’re… You’re you. You’re charming and hot and…” she’s spilled most of her guts, what harm can a little bit of spilling her heart do now? “You’re beautiful. You’ve got a different girl to take home every other night. It kills me inside, I won’t lie. It’s torture seeing you laughing with someone else. It really is. But it’s not your fault. And, I know you don’t feel the same way, and for a long time I didn’t mind this one sided affair cause, it was mine, you know? This love I had for you, it was all mine. I didn’t care if you loved me back… But then you…”

“Died,” he finishes the sentence for her.

She nods lamely. “It felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. I don’t remember what I did when you weren’t around. I don’t remember how I survived because to me breathing was being in love with you. It’ll always be that. I just knew if I ever saw you again, I needed you to know how I felt. I’d been too selfish with my love for you. I… I don’t know. It sounds stupid now. I just needed you to know and I felt like I should tell you today so I did.”

And then the car stops again. 

She looks up and she’s standing in front of the boarding house. 

Clock’s run out.

Dean tries to say something but she doesn’t know if she has the courage to hear a placated, softly-worded rejection so she just gets out of the car. 

He follows suit.

He rushes to open the trunk and pulls out her luggage.

She takes it for him, and then begins walking to the door.

“Y/n!”

It feels like a gust of wind. 

The way he calls for her feels like the gust of wind that blows right before the lighting strikes.

She turns without hesitance. 

Their eyes lock.

He’s standing next to the driver side, the door to the impala is still open. The only thing lighting his face is a street light a couple paces behind him. Bathed in yellow, he looks like a wild field of sunflowers, with his messy blond hair and painfully green eyes. He’s absolutely breathtaking.

For all her talk of her love for Dean Winchester being like breathing, in this moment, at the sight of this man looking absolutely divine, she doesn’t think she remembers how to breathe at all.

So with bated breath, she waits for him to speak.

“Y/n…” He says again, before something changes and his eyes stop shining, his posture hardens, his hand grips the Impala’s door a little harder and his face loses color. Then he says, “We’ll pick you up Tuesday.” With that he gets back in the car and drives off. 

It’s only when they’ve crossed the Mystic Falls border does the silence in the Impala break.

“You’re an idiot,” Sam tells him. 

Find Part 2 here.

[sugar-grigri]

The ambivalence of life: the massage metaphor 

I'm going to get straight to the point: Denji is perfectly right to want to suffer - it's precisely what he lacked in his 'normal' life.

To understand this, let's go back to the chapter.

Introducing Denji as a CSM wannabe right at the start of the chapter isn't as insignificant as you might think, because this chapter helps to differentiate between CSM and a CSM wannabe.

After all, Denji could very well be one, and chapter 150 makes it clear that the protagonist's dream is to be a CSM, so he literally wants... to be a CSM.

But in order to become CSM himself, we have to understand what CSM is. And that's precisely where the difference lies between a CSM wannabe and Denji as CSM.

Part 2 has repeatedly shown that 'CSM' has become a marketing product, an idol for young people, a source of detestation for others, like express usurpers who have taken to the stage. In short, CSM's identity began to become more diffuse, questioned to the point where it seemed to escape Denji. So what is CSM? 

Well, let me ask you this: what's the first thing you think of when I mention CSM?

Most fans will cite the most traumatic and tragic chapters, shuddering at the mere mention of volume 9. There's your answer: suffering is the secret of CSM's identity. 

But let's move away from this more meta side, and get back to the chapter. 

I know that Nayuta being pushed aside and put in her place stung some people's hearts and it hurt me too! But Denji is right to push her away, cruel as that may seem. Because the complexity of Denji and Nayuta's relationship also lies in the fact that their relationship can have several negative sides.

Firstly, Nayuta is and remains the demon of control, a demon who can't help but have a hold, even over those she loves. And she has done this with Denji on one occasion: when she forbids him to see Asa again.

She forbids it out of a desire to protect him, fearing that Denji will be taken in by yet another girl. This reaction depresses Denji, but he regains hope by acting as CSM, motivated by Nayuta herself because CSM is admired and loved by people. The first instinct at this stage would be to think that this is a bit contradictory: why push Nayuta away when she's the first to admire and encourage CSM? 

Because she hasn't grasped what CSM is all about either. I'll expand on that later, but for now, keep in mind that suffering is intrinsic to CSM. Even when she prevented Denji from continuing his story with Asa, she was preventing Denji from suffering, in itself, from experimenting. The same experience can be just as beneficial as it can be negative, and it's part of the game of life not to know the outcome of a relationship, otherwise you wouldn't go with others.

And that's what Nayuta has done, the demon of control has a happiness that's enough to be two, it's a demon that risks being alone so much that a single loved one is enough to make her happy. But that's Nayuta's idea, not Denji's. 

I'll come back to this a bit more, but for the moment I'm still going to follow the chapter. Denji almost comes to thank Barem and the others for burning down his house and his pets, but he's also aware that morality is being undermined and even talks to Pochita about it. And that's fascinating. 

Even though it may seem horrible, the loss of his animal family allows Denji to realise that he needs this suffering in his life, for many reasons. If Kishibe judged Denji as a man made to kill demons, it's because suffering makes him gloat, because it's the most intense experience he's had in his life.

Transforming himself into a CSM is a way for Denji to confront suffering; he has even internalised it since he was a child, making his body suffer to pay off his debts.

CSM is a creature made for suffering. When Aki became possessed by the Gun Devil, CSM was the culmination of Denji's suffering, his demonic form killing his brother. Just as Denji transformed into Pochita was saved by a dying Power.

The foundations of Denji, Aki and Power only consolidated Denji's relationship with suffering. This double facet, between love and suffering through grief. Pochita is another example, because becoming CSM was followed by an experience of mourning, the loss of Pochita who had merged with him. 

Suffering is as intrinsic to all species as are death and love because suffering is the result of both, the love we have for others is the cause of our suffering when they die.

CSM is this universality, with Pochita sacrificing himself to prevent Denji from dying, suffering every time the cable is pulled. And instead of fighting it, CSM uses it as the engine of his chainsaws. When Nayuta says that this is not the time for chainsaws, she wants to prevent her brother from suffering. But Denji understands that it's precisely when he's suffering that it's time to be CSM. 

Having your head and arms brutally chopped off hurts, fighting demons hurts, in short, transforming into a CSM physically hurts and must hurt. Imagine having a cable cut in half across your torso: it hurts, so why pull it? That's why Denji IS CSM, because it's when it hurts that he realises he wants to be CSM? 

Hybrids don't exploit this pain, demons like the Eternity Demon are even afraid of it, and that's what explains CSM's superiority: suffering exalts him and he uses it as a means to fight. When Quanxi cut off the weapons' heads, it was enough for them to admit defeat, while Denji calmly puts his head back on, not giving up the fight. 

Weapons can't die, but they can see others die, just as suffering can't escape them either. Either they see themselves almost as demigods, as prophets, or they can see themselves as great knights out to save the world.

Denji knows how to exploit his nature; he drinks blood at the slightest opportunity, tries to devour like a demon and is not afraid to use it, unlike the other hybrids. (Quanxi is an exception)

As the spear weapon starts to provoke CSM by saying to really scare them, CSM exploits being sliced in half. Suffering is the fear of weapons.

The whole thing also has a symbolic force, because we've been trying endlessly to cut Denji in two, his human life on the one hand and his life as CSM on the other. Cutting CSM in two won't do him any good, all he has to do is pull his cable.

But above all, the comparison with massage is a very good one, because it sums up life, this combination of good sensations and not-so-good ones. This is precisely what pitted Denji against Makima, that bad films or bad facets of the world and humanity must exist.

This time, part 2 doesn't boil down to this ideology; what Denji is saying is that to live is also to suffer, to be happy is also to have been unhappy. All these things are not mutually exclusive, they go together. 

That's why Denji wins against the weapons, because he won't fight against the suffering they'll put him through, he'll use it to the full, knowing that behind it all there'll be a good feeling. And that seeing the positive side even in pain is nothing other than hope.

Denji himself says that life is a superposition of all these facets. There are things we may never get over, but they don't stop us from moving forward. That's why this chapter is incredible, because Denji doesn't accept suffering as a demon when he's fighting, he wants to accept it in his life too, Denji's life, he has to experiment without Nayuta's permanent approval. 

Denji has lost many people close to him, including his pets. It is precisely through their loss that he wants to suffer. Because suffering is the privilege of the living.

Chainsaw Man is nothing more than 2 entities reunited to survive together.

CSM's laughter is symbolic of this, and chapter 151 made an explicit reference to chapter 82 when Makima starts laughing despite the paroxysm of suffering for Denji, who has just seen Power die. What Fujimoto does is bring together the previous antagonist and the protagonist, to bring out the essence of his work.

Both Makima and Denji laugh despite the horror of the situation as the mask finally comes off, Makima presents her plans and Denji realises what Chainsaw Man is. In short, laughter is the symbol of letting go, as the mask finally comes off. And all this sums up Chainsaw Man, this confrontation between comedy and tragedy, this strange association.

Readers, don't fight the suffering of the characters either, you're reading CSM precisely because of it. You want to suffer just like CSM. So have fun with it.

[socsurveystuff]

Big Radqueer Survey Results

This is going to be pretty long. I may in the future take sections from this (+ maybe elaborate) and make them their own posts. Disclaimer that any viewpoints discussed below are not necessarily my own and that I am trying to approach this from a place of pure curiosity and am not including my own moral stances. Thank you everyone for taking the survey. We’ll get started under the read more!

Alright, so immediately we’re working with a large radqueer majority audience, so keep that in mind! There is some diversity overall, but this did end up being a very pro-radqueer heavy population. Fairly normal age distribution compared to the rest of tumblr, I’d say, though I would take note of the majority 13-18 population and significant under 16 population.

Big piece of data here!! Interestingly enough, about 76% of responders identified as plural or part of a system. Based on written responses, it appears like a lot of people cite their plurality as a reason for having certain transIDs. I got a few responders who stated they were answering as multiple alters and therefore there answers may be contradictory. There seem to be a minority of endogenic systems, with most people either answering ‘traumagenic’ or that they’re unsure/nuanced about system origin.

—TransIDs: Racial, Age, Abled—

I believe the visual charts for these look a bit busy, so I will summarize the main points I got here:

Out of being transabled, transage, and transracial—being transage is the most common according to responders. Most transage folks identify as being younger, but age sliding/experiencing several ages depending seems to also be common. Compared to the other types of transIDs listed, more people seemed to identify as transage due to trauma (others seemed more related to atypical dysphoria + wanting the label for fun).

For transabled people, identifying with both physical and mental disabilities is most common. Besides that, mental is more common than physical. More people reported being transabled ‘for fun’ compared to the others (though again, atypical dysphoria was majority reported). From what I’ve seen, identifying with life-long disorders (developmental, intellectual, chronic, etc) is more common than identifying with temporary conditions.

The majority of transracial people reported being bodily white, though not by a wide margin. Based on general tumblr demographics, I’d say there’s not really compelling data there to say whether bodily white people are more likely to identify as transrace within radqueer spaces than others; though, as one might expect, it seems that bodily race/ethnicity can have an influence in the different nuances as to *why* someone might identify as a different race/ethnicity.

I don’t have anything in particular to add to this graph, I just wanted to include it here. It’s surprisingly pretty evenly split.

—TransIDs: Harmed/Harmful—

Responses to these were actually really fascinating and helpful. I could write a whole other post on it, honestly.

I’ll do my best to summarize here.

The majority of people who identify as transharmed/harmful fit both labels. You can see this in the chart. Besides that, transharmed seems more common than harmful.

Based on written responses, it is very clear to me that identification with these labels tends to stem from trauma. Though some also claimed they take them on for fun or for sexual reasons, many *many* people specifically talked about wishing their trauma was worse. Over and over again I saw sentences like, “I feel like my trauma wasn’t valid”, “I feel like it should’ve been more severe”, “people would believe me if I was more traumatized”, “I wish people would take my issues more seriously”.

This is a very common mindset among people struggling with trauma and/or mental illness. Many responders reported having these feelings about past experiences with grooming and childhood abuse. Feeling like something bad should’ve happened to you when you were younger is also often a sign of CSA or other traumatic memories that one might’ve blocked out; in other situations, it may also come from a lack of support for already existing issues.

In some cases, seemingly more commonly in those who identified with the transharmful label, people might seek out this transID to cope with or mitigate guilt from intrusive thoughts. It can be an outlet for anger, some reporting that they find a type of relief in fantasizing about hurting the people who hurt them, or hurting people in the same way they were once hurt. For many, transharmed/harmful was also related to plurality—specifically the existence of fictives/introjects and their own memories of their source material.

Though some expressed distaste for the way the general radqueer community seems to have conflated transharmful/harmed labels for kink and the want to seek out conabusive relationships, there were several people who said that they identified with these terms for specifically erotic reasons.

There was also a common theme of gratefulness for a space to express commonly taboo desire in a way that minimizes potential for harm. Especially for people who were once abused, being able to experience these things in a controlled environment was important; the desire to return to abusers themselves is considered common, so the want to recreate some aspects staying away from actual abusive situations was noted as incredibly helpful.

As some did point out in the survey, the similarities between conabuse and (sexual or nonsexual) BDSM are very apparent. Consent was consistently reiterated as necessary to many of these people, though a few also expressed concern with the way conabusive relationships have played out specifically in online spaces.

The majority of responders were positive or nuanced towards the concept of conabusive relationships. The question of minors engaging in such relationships seemed like it really depended on the individual situation for many. Maturity especially was a big factor.

—Contact Stances for ‘Big Three’ + Incest—

(TW for… all the stuff that’s involved in discussing that)

Just to preface, the reason I including the ‘regardless of consent’ answer was mostly for the section on beastiality, necrophilia and pedophilia—online, I have rarely seen the opinion that engaging sexually with beings that do not understand or relate to our societal concepts of sex (or are… corpses) cannot be harmed by it. I am also aware that some people simply don’t care about committing harm. I included it here for consistency.

Consensual incest was definitely one of the more accepted ‘taboo’ acts in this survey, with a majority of ~59%. Although, it’s important to note that for many people the pre-existing relationship of those involved would make a difference in their opinion.

Necrophilia was overall the most supported (adding up both the red and blue sections of the pie chart there). In written responses, I also saw people claiming that conditions such as relationship to the deceased and likelihood of contracting illnesses would also be relevant to their opinions. Interestingly, there seemed to be a higher percentage of anti-contact here than for incest; some who chose such an option mostly highlighted the issue of dead bodies not being able to revoke consent during the act, and therefore not having the ability to be fully consenting at all.

Zoophilia was not supported by the majority (71%). ~25% of responders believed consensual contact with animals was possible; out of those who did, the belief that animals can consent if they initiate contact was most popular (followed by perceived enjoyment and intelligence level). Interestingly, I got several responses from people who labelled themselves as either pro or anti contact zoophilia who claimed that they believed sexual contact with animals *could* hypothetically be done ethically, but that the vast majority of people do not have the knowledge of animal behavior and biology to do so.

Pedophilia/Hebephilia was considerably more divisive. Comparing the pie chart here with the data below, I believe it would be accurate to say that we have a majority (~59%) of people who believe youth cannot consent to adult advances, and others whose opinions seem to be more situationally-defined. Keep in mind that not everyone who answered the first part answered the second.

According to written responses, those that were pro or nuanced on the issue tended to prioritize maturity level and sexual education for minors. Some people claimed that kids of almost any age should be able to express consent to (a few specified: non-penetrative) sex in a society that better educated children on their bodies and relationships. There seemed to be a group of people who agreed that, philosophically, children have the capacity to say yes or no to sex in the same way they would for anything else—most of these people, though, agreed that this would not work in our society due to the prevalence of CSA and lack of protections for children.

I found it interesting that more people identified as anti-contact for zoophilia than pedo/hebephilia. I saw two or three responses that claimed it was mostly an empathy issue (more for animals, less for children); but a more common outlook seemed to be that—while some minors have the ability to communicate what they want and understand the culture we have around sex—animals cannot meaningfully consent within the framework of our society.

As we can see here, the majority (62%) of people would feel comfortable interacting with people who had one or more of the ‘big three’ paraphilias, but have not engaged in them. For many people (~35%) there is the additional caveat of being anti-contact.

For those who *have* engaged in any of those paraphilias, comfortability interacting falls significantly. There’s still a majority of people willing to interact (adding the yellow and red sections together), but most of the people in that category (~41%) would only be comfortable if they considered the other persons’ contact consensual. ~43% of people would not feel comfortable interacting at all.

I don’t have a ton to say on this chart, but I thought I’d include it here.

—CENSORSHIP—

I have less to say in this section, but I find it notable that (admittedly, by a small margin) people found the ethics of AI child pornography featuring real children’s faces (but not bodies) more disagreeable than fully real images of children. Also notably, ~27% of responders believe children can consent to keeping sexually explicit images/videos of themselves available. Based on written responses, I believe some or most of this percentage comes from people wanting it to be acceptable for youth to keep/potentially distribute nudes of themselves without fear of legal repercussion.

Here we have a majorities for not banning sexually explicit writing or animation portraying children. As I expected, writing has a little more support than visual depiction.

—CONCLUSION, NOTES—

Again, I want to thank everyone who participated. The survey will continue to stay open if you haven’t taken it and want to add your own perspective.

I still have some questions, particularly regarding the diversity in definitions of consent I saw, as well as some of the more… ‘cosmetic’ (?) based TransIDs that I’d be interested in understanding the thought behind.

I feel like I have a much better understanding of some of the psychology behind a lot of this, at least. I won’t go into any ultimatums here, because I believe they might be influenced by my own ethics, but I’ll just say that much of this community is very understandable if you take an empathetic approach. It’s interesting that an online culture so focused on being able to identify as ‘other’ in a very individualistic way seems to have also brought many people into community that they were seeking. There’s quite an emphasis on the shared solidarity between different “deviancies” (as societally-defined), and for better or for worse this has led to the public broadcast of the many diversities of opinion these people have on some of the most taboo subjects one can think of.