#it’s not meant to be aggressive or directed at anyone by any means

[elevenelvenswords]

I know this has been addressed countless times already, but if you’re part of a fandom and you regularly visit art blogs or if you regularly read fanfiction, PLEASE make sure you reblog/comment/interact in any way other than just liking. It only takes a few seconds to reblog a post, and it only takes a few minutes (at most) to leave a nice comment. It can be anything really; you don’t have to write elaborate comments or messages to make your favourite fanfic writer smile that day. Whether it’s a few simple sentences that express your enthusiasm to see their work or an incoherent mess of keysmashing, I assure you it will motivate writers/artists to keep posting for you. So many lovely content creators are drifting away due to the lack of interactions and it makes me incredibly sad.

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 25/∞

VIOLENCE AS COURTSHIP IS A PART OF DEMON CULTURE

Rating: CANON

A nearly universal trope, especially in Moshang fics, is the fact that courtship is performed through violence in demon culture, and that the misunderstandings between the pair are because of cultural differences. The fact that demons mistreat the targets of their affection is canon, however, it is important for fans to note that this sort of characterization and worldbuilding is rooted in racial and ethnic stereotypes.

This is one of the most-requested topics I've ever written on this blog, and I took a long time to think about how best to approach the subject in a way that both keeps to the intention of this blog (referencing canon & providing quotes) as well as raising awareness to the very real problematic aspects of what is a well-loved and often-used trope in fanon that I don't think most western fans are aware of.

First, the canon analysis:

“If you hold unique feelings for a certain person, how can you make them understand your intentions?” Luo Binghe asked. Obviously, no one dared to tear down Luo Binghe’s facade and expose him directly, but this question was really very…unsuited to the demonic approach. After a long moment, not a single person had answered. In fact, the answer was so simple that any normal human could have given it to you. If you liked someone, you should just tell them. Unfortunately, there was not a single “normal” person on the scene—and aside from Shang Qinghua, there also were no “humans” either. Mobei-Jun thought about it. With the paths his mind was given to take, there was no telling how he had interpreted “unique” feelings. “Beat them up three times a day?” (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Most of the fandom remembers this passage, and some may think that this is where the interpretation of violence as courtship comes from-- however, that is not the case. This passage might actually not refer to courtship at all-- while that is one possible interpretation, Mobei-jun could also be interpreting "unique feelings" to mean something different than "romantic feelings," since Luo Binghe didn't specify romance directly.

The "violent demonic courtship" idea actually originates much earlier in the novel, just after the invasion of Qiong Ding Peak:

In truth, Shen Qingqiu didn’t intend to tease; he thought himself very straightforward. The one who’d tampered with Luo Binghe’s dream realm was Sha Hualing. Though she did have some harmful intentions, her underlying motive was obvious. Naturally, she was driven by a young girl’s secret yearning for love. Otherwise, she would have directed her aggressions toward others, not specifically Luo Binghe. Demons were compelled to viciously bully the person they liked. Only if the object of their affections failed to die would the demon accept them. If their target died, that meant they were useless and not worth nursing any lingering affections for. (7 Seas, Ch. 3)

This, in fact, has somewhat more serious connotations than the way I have often seen it interpreted in fanworks-- it is not merely beating up a potential partner, but pushing them to their limits, nearly driving them to death, and it is certainly implied that it is not uncommon for the object of a demon's affections to actually die.

Now that the canonical basis of the idea has been established, let us move on to the second, and arguably more important part of this post: the racism.

I would like to add a disclaimer here-- I am going to discuss this in hopes of raising more awareness in the fandom, but I am not North/West/Central Asian myself, so I will only mention things in brief and somewhat generally-- if anyone who belongs to the affected cultures would like to make corrections, or more detailed explanations, or any other additions to this post on this topic, I greatly welcome that, as I feel it is an important issue that should be addressed.

In Chinese fiction, particularly fantasy genres like xianxia/xuanhuan/xiuzhen, but also in historical and wuxia fiction, there is a pervasive, prevalent tendency for authors to use racial and ethnic stereotypes against Central, Northern, and Western Asian cultures such as Mongolian & Arab cultures in their worldbuilding regarding the North, while stereotypes against Southeast Asian cultures are used in worldbuilding regarding the South. These stereotypes are most typically applied to villains and villainous groups, and are so widespread as to be ubiquitous within the genre. MXTX has used these tropes before-- notably with the Banyue people in TGCF, with adaptations of both TGCF and MDZS including design stereotypes, such as CQL's portrayal of the Qinghe Nie (combining their tendency toward violence and 'unnatural' cultivation method, with design traits typically associated with Northern/Central Asian cultures).

It is worth noting, though, that most authors do not intentionally use these traits as racist stereotypes in their worldbuilding, especially when regarding a non-human species-- in the same way that western fantasy authors use goblin and orc characters and tropes without realizing or acknowledging their racist origins and connotiations, these stereotypes have simply become genre tropes without that direct connection to their origins. Nonetheless, it is still worth noting-- and worth trying not to fall into the trap of leaning into stereotypical traits in fanworks' character portrayals.

Stereotypes include but are not limited to barbaric and brutish cultural traits, association with animals/having animal features, dark or corrupt magical/spiritual practices, certain types of braided hairstyles & other fashion choices, and originating from the far north or south.

Some of the prejudice and stereotyping of Northern Asian cultures likely originates from the fact that in the past, China was invaded and subjugated by peoples from the north (under Mongolian rule during the Yuan dynasty, and under Manchurian rule during the Qing dynasty) as well as having many conflicts with these peoples throughout history. In fact, the Qing dynasty only ended in the early 1900s, so some of this oppression is still in recent memory-- nonetheless, people belonging to ethnic minorities in China are still affected by this negative stereotyping today, so regardless of the origin, racism is still racism and should be addressed, and China today is a majority Han Chinese nation-- even if Han Chinese are considered a minority and affected by systemic racism in other places in the world.

Additionally, many tropes specifically applied to the southern demons, but also used for demon culture as a whole, are tied to stereotypical portrayals of Southeast Asian culture, which is rooted in a long history of Imperial China's invasion and oppression.

All of those stereotypes listed above apply to SVSSS' demon culture. Even in Mobei-jun's name-- 漠北 meaning "northern desert," which is the real-world name for a region in the north of the Gobi desert in Mongolia.

Therefore, it is important to remember that though violence-as-courtship in demon culture is canonical within SVSSS' setting, it nonetheless originates from harmful racial and ethnic stereotypes. It would be a good idea for fans to keep this in mind when creating their fanworks, and to treat the topic with sensitivity-- but I will leave any direct suggestions on how to handle this to those who are actually part of the affected groups.

--

(thanks to @flidgetjerome for additional notes regarding SEAsian stereotyping and author intent!)

Also, to be absolutely clear: I am not saying that svsss’ demons are specifically coded as any real ethnic group— it’s only that in many ways the portrayal is similar to the common portrayal of various ethnic groups in cmedia. I don’t believe they are specifically meant to parallel a real life group, unlike for example TGCF’s Banyue— but it’s worth questioning why these traits, why these characters.

[sim0nril3y]

i love your works!!

now that soap knows sort of about civilian reader, how would they both react to meeting one another? Perhaps after a mission, Simon has to take him to their house since it’s close by and there they meet. I can imagine Johnny jokingly flirting with reader jus to rile Simon up

Note: Thank you so much for your request! I love, love, love it! Love these boys together and all the trouble they get into and love how Johnny just seems to be able to push his buttons. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, taunting and teasing, tiny illusion to smut, canon typical swearing.

It was probably a mixture of exhaustion and anxiousness to see you that had Simon not thinking straight when he climbed off the plane with Johnny. Circumstances had it that the barracks were completely full to the brim, the last train home for Johnny was an hour ago and a certain sense of guilt had Simon suggesting “We got a spare room…” The moment Simon said it, he regretted it.

It had been a gruelling four months away from you and all he had come to adore at the home you shared together, whilst he had wanted to spend time alone with you now he was basically bringing home a drooling labrador in the form of his Sergeant. Johnny’s eyes brightened up like it was Christmas and he mentioned. “That means I get t’meet your missus, LT.” Simon was completely stumped for any response, simply his shoulders sagged.

“You breathe a word about this or her to anyone else, I’ll make sure you don’t make it back from our next mission.” It was a threat, but an empty one and Johnny knew that for certain.

It was way past midnight by the time that Johnny and Simon arrived at his home. They quietly clambered from the car and up the path towards the house. Simon had warned you not to wait up for him, but from here he could see that the living room light was on which meant you hadn’t listened to him. Using the key to open the door before he even put his bags down on the floor, he heard your footsteps approach hastily, excited to see him, having practically no contact for almost four months was difficult.

“Si…” You rushed to wrap your arms around him, Simon wrapped his body tight around your own, burying his face into your throat and inhaling sharply, burying his nose into your scent to try and wash away all the horror that he’d witnessed whilst away. “Missed you so much.” You whimpered into his skin and then jumping. “Oh, uh…” It was clear you’d seen Johnny lingering over his shoulder then. “Hi.”

Tugging away from Simon, he took a step aside allowing you to see Johnny fully. “Hello ma’am.” He nodded his head at you then, Simon wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Johnny act so respectful before. Odd, he thought. “Jus’ got back from a mission. Y’fella ‘ere said I could borrow a room f’the night. Hope it won’t be too much trouble.”

A little of startled surprise crossed your face. “You work with Simon?” You asked then and Johnny nodded in confirmation. “You can stay as long as you want if you tell me everything about Si whilst he’s away from home.” You announced causing Simon to gift you a tested look but it only caused Johnny to chortle lowly and reply. “I tell y’everything I know ‘bout Si.” The use of his nickname that was reserved for you fell from Johnny’s lips and those narrowed daggers looked to him aggressively.

“Time for bed.” Simon commanded lowly then, hands placed on your shoulders to spin you in the direction of the stairs and ushering you up then, even as you argued that you needed to find some sheets for the spare room Simon still urged you up the stairs and as far away from Johnny as he could manage. This night couldn’t be over quick enough.

It was like some bad dream as Simon awoke that next morning to your side of the bed long cold beside him and the sound of your distant laughter floating through the house. Bloody hell. Originally, he had planned on waking up, rolling you gently onto your side and slipping into your wonting cunt, but instead you were entertaining another one downstairs, leaving him longing and lonely in the bed you shared.

Simon was dreading whatever stories that Johnny had decided to fill your pretty head with. There was reasons Simon kept you separate from you his work life, mostly for your safety but also because he was a different person there than he was in the comfort of your shared home. He felt safe and secure in these walls and around your presence, with work he built up walls which you had seemingly knocked down in mere weeks of knowing him.

Clambering from bed Simon tugged on some shorts and lumbered downstairs to join the chatter. It was much too lively for an early Saturday morning. “My, my… Lt never mentioned jus’ how talented you are, lass.” That thick Scottish accent announced making his eyes narrow, rounding the counter to see Johnny observing the artwork that adorned the kitchen walls. “Matter fact, don’t think he’s uttered a single word ‘bout you.”

“Likewise.” You responded with ease then before beaming a smile at the presence of Simon in the doorway. “Morning, Lt.” Johnny began. “Morning babe, want a cuppa?” Your voice was pleasant and sweet, even at this time. “Mm.” He moved then to take a seat at the table as you got to work making him a morning brew just the way he liked. “I hope MacTavish ain’t been giving you too much grief…” He commented, flicking a hard look in Johnny’s direction.

A delicate laugh came from you then. “Don’t be silly.” Approaching him with the tea and placing it on the kitchen table for him. “Not at all, Lt.” Johnny continued. “Y’lass and I’ve been gettin’ on like a house on fire.” Then grinning as he sat opposite him. “Bonnie was just tellin’ me ‘bout the train strikes…” Simon glared at him. “Kindly offered me the room until things clear up again.”

After taking a long sip of his tea Simon said coldly. “I’ll pay for a taxi, or a plane… whatever gets you out of my house faster.” Then earning a hard look from you across the room. “Don’t be rude.” You scolded him with a stern look, completely unphased by Simon’s attitude Johnny did grin at the way that you spoke to his Lieutenant, practically only Price could speak to Simon like that. “John, you are more than welcome to stay with us as long as you need to.” Then throwing a tested look in Simon’s direction. “Isn’t that right, babe.”

“Is it, Lt?” Johnny uttered feigning some innocence Simon knew was fake. Instead of biting back Simon simply nodded and mustered a small. “Mm.” In response, simply plotting his revenge sometime in the future. “Mighty kind of you.” The Scotsman grinned and looked towards you. “Oh and lass, call me Johnny, please.” Followed by a playful wink. This was going to be a rough few days.

Masterlist | Ask | 27-01-2024

[whatgoesthroughmyhead]

Spoiler warning! A significant component to the ending of Adolescence of Utena is discussed here. If I were you I'd only read this after watching the show and the movie.

Okay, I need to talk about the Utena car, because I'm a huge car nerd, and its design is SO STRANGE. (I'll be talking about the car's first iteration, because it's the most developed and interesting version.)

[more pics of the car here]

To start, let's look at the recognizable/evocative shapes that are incorporated into the design. I see a high-heeled shoe as the central shape, and then the obvious horse head shapes over the front wheels. If the core shape is indeed meant to call to mind a high-heeled shoe, I take that as being symbolic of Anthy's feminine elegance, with a touch of "don't fuck with me" aggression in that sharply-pointed "toe." It makes sense that the cockpit area is designed more for Anthy, since she's the driver (and the only one with a key). Also that aggressively pointed tip suits Anthy because she is very much associated with swords, and she's become an empowered badass who's not interested in taking shit from anyone anymore. Also worth noting: in episode three of the show, we see Anthy & Utena's first dance, and Anthy is wearing high heels, so there's definitely precedent for this shoe imagery. And that first dance is significant; it's their first time joyously holding each other!

As for the horse heads, I take them as representing the regal/princely nature that Utena has aspired to for so long, as well as the raw, natural force of will that Utena has in spades (especially for her girl Anthy). Also, horses are transportation with heart. Horses get you around while also being sensitive, feeling creatures. Utena has big, deep feelings and care for Anthy, so this fits well. And one more point before moving on: trust and "oneness" between horse and rider are totally a thing, and these are themes that easily fit here.

Okay now to get into what's really interesting (to me), particularly because it's such a subtle and unexpected detail. The Utena car is front-wheel drive, not rear-wheel drive like the majority of performance-oriented cars are. This was a deliberate design choice. If you look closely you can see there are driveshafts attached to the front wheels, but not the rears. That means the power of the engine (Utena's heart) is directed ahead and pulls the car forward from the front, rather than pushing it from the rear. I have no doubt this is significant. Both Anthy and Utena are motivated by a "pull" towards a better future. Their hope is pulling them forward. Their motivation is not a fear-based push from behind, as awful—and arguably frightening—as the shit behind them may be.

Something else to note is: front-wheel drive cars tend to be more stable and easy/intuitive to handle than rear-wheel drive cars, especially for beginner drivers. If Utena had any deciding influence in what kind of car to become, it makes sense that she would choose a layout that would increase Anthy's chances of staying on course and achieving the desired outcome. And Utena & Anthy are still new to their relationship. An easy-to-handle, beginner-friendly automobile is a great choice in this instance, especially considering all the hardship Anthy has endured. Utena would want Anthy to have the easiest time possible with this dash to a new and unknown future.

Finally I want to highlight how the overall design of the car is strongly forward-oriented. The vast majority of what's going on—both in terms of design and engineering—is at the front end of this car. The tail end almost feels like an afterthought in comparison. As I see it, this emphasizes that Anthy & Utena are focused on what's ahead of them, and only minding what's behind them as far as is necessary, and no more than that.

The design of this car is inherently hopeful.

That's my take. Thanks for reading!

P.S. - I've just realized that if ya squint, the Utena car looks kinda like a naked man laying back, with his pointy dingus hanging out for all to see. So maybe there's some trans masculine imagery here too; I don't know. It would certainly fit with Utena's tomboyishness, and the big-long-dong second iteration of the car. Anyway I'll leave it at that for now lol.

[igotanidea]

Phantom: Jason Todd x ghost!reader

part 2 to Specter

***

He would never say it outloud, not that he had to, but adjusting to living without her took much more time then it should.

When he came back, lost, confused and thrown into completely different reality when Tim replaced him in the role of Robin, when Damian joined the family, when he was apparently no longer welcomed and fitting, Y/N would have been the only familiar thing keeping him from jumping into the abyss of madness.

 And now, he had to struggle through every day with the thought of her lingering in the back of his mind, followed by two simple words that seemed to justify his every action and pushing forward.

For her.

For her, because she wouldn’t want to watch you fall into the claws of depression.

For her, since it was the only way to prove he was actually worth something and if there was something beyond the grave, Jason wanted her to be proud of him.

Oh,

To see her, just one more time. To hear her voice, her laugh, to feel the touch of her hand on his cheek, always so gentle and caring, even when he did something stupid or reckless.

His mind was turning in direct proportion to the way his body was tossing in bed unable to sleep.

He missed her terribly, only now realizing how much pain it actually brings to loose someone without hope of ever getting them back into one’s life.

Like never ever.

What it meant to get killed and to kill. Having someone’s all fate in one’s hands, playing God, deciding who was and who wasn’t to survive. And if anything it felt like a heavy burden on his shoulders. Jason never regretted getting rid of the scumbags and criminals of Gotham, cleaning the street, taking on the responsibility neither Batman nor any of his brother were ever capable of pursuing. He knew the consequences, both positive and negative. But for the first time he understood the personal emptiness coming from killing.

If only she was here.

She would probably scoff at him, act indifferent and then say something funny or mocking to diffuse the tension that would make them both laugh and feel at least a bit better about this whole vigilantism mess they got involved in as kids.

Or maybe she would be like Bruce. Rejecting him because he had changed his tactics and methods of operation? After all, he wasn’t so brutal and aggressive when he was Robin, she knew him as.

“Fuck!” he hissed, jumping of the bed, unable to have any rest “Get yourself together Todd!” standing in front of bathroom mirror he clutched the sink, almost breaking it due to the force he put into action. “She’s dead. She’s gone. Who the fuck care of what she would think!?” he looked deep into his own eyes, showing desperation, loneliness, fear and uncertainty for future. Despite not being the one to dwell on the past and overanalyze, he could almost see the little street kid he was years ago looking back at him.

“On the other side of the mirror like a fucking Alice in Wonderland” he muttered to himself, head hanging low.

At least until he noticed a shadow appearing behind his back and reflecting in the glass surface, immediately activating all his fighting instincts.

“WHO THE HELL IS HERE?! GET OUT AND SHOW YOUR FACE YOU COWARD!”

Obviously no one showed up which only spur his aggression further on.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Jason muttered casually, but there was no denying his predatory tone that made the innocent words seem life threatening.  “Cause when I find you myself, I’ll make you beg for mercy…” he smirked at the plan already forming in his head as he started searching for the intruder in the whole apartment.

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” a voice, not much louder than a whisper or a rustle of a spring wind bounced off the walls, but there still wasn’t anyone inside.

“SHOW YOURSELF!”

“You know, I can’t remember you being this violent back in the days….”

“THE HELL!?”

“Calm yourself Jaybird, I kinda get what it means to be brought back from the grave.”

“What--?”

Jason’s stutters weren’t interrupted by a thunder or lightning or any other supernatural weather occurrence and yet, the familiar silhouette floating in the air, surrounded by a faint blue glow, almost stopped his heart.

“Y/N?”

“Hey Jaybrird.” She smirked as if she wasn’t a ghost appearing out of thin air. “couldn’t leave me alone even from behind the grave, huh?”

“You’re dead!” he cried out taking a step back even if all his instincts were telling him to run from forward and hold her. The rational part of his brain telling him that she clearly had no body to hold.

‘No more than you I see. How’s life, Todd?”

“Like a second chance that I’m obviously wasting not being a good boy.” He rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling the wave of happiness and familiarity stemming from her presence even in this form.

“Oh, please!” she laughed “good boys are holdovers. Haven’t you heard that girls only fall for the misfits and rebels?”

“Is that why you’re here then? Cause you missed the rebel I became?”

“I’m here because clearly your obsessive thoughts about me became so intrusive that someone up there decided I need to come back and teach you a lesson about leaving dead people in peace.”

“Y/N…” he sighed meeting her eyes, that were still the same e/c orbs he loved so much.

“I know…”

“I missed you…”

“I know…”

Guided my some crazy instinct he approached her, his hand travelling up to cup her cheek, to feel the texture of her skin, but instead meeting the cold air when his fingers permeated the ghost form of his friend/lover.

And it was so fucking depressing. Having her so close and still feeling the distance and separation deriving from the thin line separating two worlds – living and death – unable to cross them. If he knew it would work and they would meet afterlife he would reach for one of his guns and put a bullet in his head right away just to be with her, but the risk of going straight to hell and being divided forever was too great.

So he settled on satisfying his eyes with her half-lucent presence and his ears with the home-like voice.

“I’m sorry-“ she whispered

“No.” he cut her off abruptly, tears almost springing from his eyes at having her but not having her at the same time. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there for you. I should have been. I should have listened when you told me to stay and not pursue this stupid search-“

“It was not your fault. You were a kid.”

“I should have known better.”

“Neither of us did. And being stupid is a privilege of childhood and teenagerhood.”

“Is that your way of telling me I should be rational and mature now?” Jason teased, pushing the pain away, deep inside.

“Nah.” She laughed softly and it echoed through the empty space like bells “that’s impossible! Not with all I saw you doing.”

“You- you saw?!”

‘I saw. But me calling you out on all your shit is not something why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here Y/N?”

“I have no idea…”

“Is there any way to –“

“Bring me back?”

“Yeah.”

“Straight to the point, huh? Are there anything filthy in your mind that might be the reason of this sudden urge Mr. Todd?” Y/N joked.

“You have no idea.” Something dangerous flashed In his eyes “But seriously, is there?”

“Do I look like a ghost expert?”

“You are a ghost so who better!?”

“Oh, excuse me, let me call Klaus from umbrella academy and ask his expertise.”

“What? He;s a fictional character!”

“Yes, but it’s similar level of abstraction! I have no body, I have no special skills, sorry to disappoint, so even if I was to cast a spell or something-“

“A spell!” Jason interrupted her with the widest grin.

“What?” that sudden change in attitude got her by surprise, brows furrowing in confusion.

“I know an expert on the spells.”

“Please tell me you don’t mean—”

“Oh I do mean!”

“I am not going to take Constantine advice!”

‘Too bad I didn’t ask your opinion on the matter. It’s been decided.”

“Damn, you are an asshole.”

“Yeah, asshole desperate enough to make a fool out of himself if that gets him the girl he’s into back.”

@havikspike

[tomorrowusa]

Quit fixating on Putin's nukes FFS.

Donald Trump and his MAGA minions are trying to imply that aid for Ukraine will lead to nuclear war. This is bullshit which is meant to bolster Putin's illegal war of aggression against a peaceful neighbor.

We hear MAGA Russophiles repeat this whenever new aid or new weapons systems are sent to Ukraine. The last time I checked, Putin hasn't nuked San Diego or Memphis. And we have crossed more of Putin's "red lines" than Trump has red neckties.

Even a delusional imperialist like Vladimir Putin understands that the ultimate outcome of any nuclear war would leave him as a shirtless congealed blob of radioactive fat. ⚛

With nuclear option unlikely, Putin struggles to defend his red lines

“There has been an overflow of nuclear threats,” said a Russian official speaking on the condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the subject. “There is already immunity to such statements, and they don’t frighten anyone.” A Russian academic with close ties to senior Russian diplomats agreed, calling the nuclear option “the least possible” of scenarios, “because it really would lead to dissatisfaction among Russia’s partners in the Global South and also because clearly, from a military point of view, it is not very effective.”

The United States and its NATO allies have no intention of giving nukes to Ukraine.

What we don't hear from scare-mongering MAGA zombies or Putin-friendly tankies is that the war in Ukraine would end immediately if the Russian invaders simply left Ukraine. Anybody who truly wants peace should be telling Russia to get the fuck back to their own country.

This week, Trump and former independent presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy Jr. wrote in an op-ed for the Hill that a decision to grant Ukraine permission to use Western long-range missiles “would put the world at greater risk of nuclear conflagration than at any time since the Cuban missile crisis” and called for direct negotiations with Moscow instead.

The only thing to "negotiate" with Moscow is a short ceasefire while Russia withdraws all its invading troops. The bottom line is that Russia has no business in Ukraine. The invasion is in violation of numerous international laws, treaties, and memoranda.

As for technology, Russia's means of using ICBMs in nuclear war just ain't what it used to be.

Latest Russian ICBM Test May Have Failed, Satellite Images Suggest

Russia is a third-rate power which happens to have nukes and a lot of empty territory that looks deceptively impressive on a map. Its ability to handle any atomic technology competently is questionable. Even during the glory days of the Soviet Union it gave the world its worst nuclear disaster at Chernobyl in 1986.

Chernobyl is in northern Ukraine which became independent in 1991. Ukrainians had done a good job of cleaning up much of the radioactive mess left by Moscow.

But Russia then temporarily occupied the area around Chernobyl in the early part of the invasion. Russian occupiers there did incredibly stupid things like dig military trenches in radioactive soil and loot radioactive materials to take home as souvenirs.

Russia has few serious competitors for the Darwin Awards this year. 🎖  ⚛️

What we should worry more about is another nuclear accident inside Russia caused by recklessness or incompetence. The sooner Ukraine is victorious, the more likely Russia will be able to tend to its own problems at home.

^^^ красные линии = red lines

[wrotelovelytears]

Cha cha CHIA!

Girl we going Islam-

🐸Neptune just has to rule over kpop. I mean think about all the use of illusions, talk about love/relationships and the way the fans act like... Fanatics.

🌹If not Neptune, then Uranus. The fans, even the industry itself, having really unpredictable behaviours is a key part of it. Also how it managed to (currently) revolutionize the view on East Asians(mainly Koreans) and the boost to technology due to rapid changes in the country and music.

🐸The Koreas are ruled by Leo. And in no way, shape, or form am I surprised. It's the way South Korea isn't known for idk Samsung (technology) but Kpop, Kdramas/film (arts). So yes Leo and the 5th house make sense as the country ruling because that's what made it truly famous/globally recognized. For the North, they stay in the news mainly due to technological changes and political happenings rather than any cultural/art based things like the South. Both very famous but for opposite reasons.

🐸I'm more convinced Venus rules over classical music over Saturn. Yes Saturn is related to time and strictness. Yet if you listen to classical music it's more about expressions of beauty or lack of.

🌹You could argue that Mars could even rule over it due to the tempos used in most classical songs. They were meant to express the ideas of the time and hence their popularity is mainly with those from the time period OR those looking to see what it was like. (And yes the 1700-1900s were a very.... Interesting time)

🐸Germany is ruled by Aries, again not surprised. Yes it became infamous after WW1, the aggressiveness (Martian) shown is what more people remember it for rather than the arts (Venusian traits). Many painters, composers and even scientists come from Germanic countries but war/aggression is somehow the only thing people remember.

🐸Dracula gives off Virgo vibes. Very critical. A clean freak. Only enjoys the finest things in life and not willing to give up, especially if someone else is the reason why. Very timey.

🐸As much as I'm on Aquarian heads, I feel like Aquarius celebrities show the most human like qualities. I mean they the type to get upset normally, talk as if they don't have large platforms and be generally very open with their lives/fans. They don't follow what it means to be a celebrity but what it means to be a human.

🐸Ever since Jupiter went direct I've been having the most vivid dreams. Like my intuition is a lot better and it's easier for me to explain things. Only issue is I'm more prone to lucid dreaming (especially since it's naturally in my 1st house)

🐸During Saturn retrograde I struggled with feelings of uselessness (more than usual). My natal Saturn is retrograde, however this time around it hit me really hard. It did ultimately push me to stop victimizing myself and get a job.

🐸Jupiter in the first house can also make someone hyper independent. Meaning the person could need help and not ask for it because the ego would rather struggle than be perceived as weak.

🐸Neptune retrograde shouldn't exist. That's it. No observation. Just a statement

🐸Scorpio Venus tend to have better relationships with those of a different age/age group than them. The house can hint to why that is

🐸Venus doms might like fashion from different time periods and/or more soft fashion styles from the current time. Bonus if Saturn and/or Neptune is touch it (regardless of aspects)

🌹I love roccoco dresses so much and Saturn does have a hard aspect with my Venus while Neptune has a soft.

🐸People dominated by more "positive" planets tend to be more egotistical than those with "malignant" planets as their doms.

🐸However people with "malignant" planets as their doms tend sit in negativity longer than those without them.

🪢All in all you either broody or an egomaniac.

🐸The fame degrees backfire more than they actually "help". Anyone with more than 2 had their fair number of struggles and more.

🐸I think the fame degrees are less about achieving fame and more about learning about how societies perceive and treat certain traits. You might be easily recognized for the planet(s) that hold your fame degree(s), yet you are also heavily shunned for actually displaying the planet(s) behavior.

🐸Because I crave stability I tend to favor cardinal signs the most. They represent active change (not begin like the mutables or ending like the fixed). That's mainly due to my chart either being mutable or fixed dom (tropical vs sidereal/Vedic). I want what isn't naturally present in my chart.

🐸Apparently I love Virgo, Scorpio and Aquarian artist. Aquarius for their uniqueness. Scorpio for their emotions. Virgo for their lyricism/word play.

🐸I love how my chart is a walking contradiction. I'm watery with fire houses OR airy with earth houses. No I can't make a decision without thinking on it for five months and just waking up to do it one random day.

🐸Your dominant house(s) can definitely show the people you go after/ the ones that approach you the most.

🌹I get approached by people of different backgrounds/older folks a lot. (10th and 9th house ruled)

🐸You know what's interesting... The fact we have entered the Age of Aquarius and the countries ruled by it are act like complete asses or being shown to the world in a different light. Iran is (just now) being talked about for its Islamist views (Side note Islamist and Muslims/Islam are not synonymous. One is a political ideology the other is a religion). Russia literally wants to fight the whole world. People discovered what Sri Lanka is (and no it's not "India but an Island"). Sweden and Finland both got exposed for being trash with transatlantic slavery and oil money. I could keep going but all the countries ruled by Aquarius are struggling in some way or form.

🐸We just left the age of Pisces. Of course that means I have to speak on the (recent)political happenings of it too. The issue over Jerusalem got highlighted. Egypt had about 5 revolutions in the 2010s alone. The rest of North Africa went through so much political upheaval, I'm pretty sure we won't recover for a hot minute. Scandinavia showed how many neonazis could exist on one part of the planet and how not to treat Indigenous people. The Portuguese Royal Family fell off and the government went broke(r).

(If you learned something new or would just like to support me you can leave a wittle tip via the tip button or one of the links in my masterlist. Kofi: nymphdreams🧸)

[keouil]

no demon under can ever dissever

"you're kidding," yuji deadpans. "gojo-sensei and ieiri-san?!" 4k. gojo/shoko. fluff. also on ao3.

Yuji has a bone to pick with any form of medical care.

It's not the constant monitoring of his vitals by the hour or the long bill of health detailing his recommended—but very strongly implemented—dosage of vitamins that irks him. Not really. In fact, Yuji actually liked playing grown up: adults need to take vitamins to do adult things. And with all the saving other people thing he still has much to do of, he needed to be as strong as possible. And to be as strong as possible, in the jujutsu world, that apparently also meant weekly trips to the clinic. 

Yuji doesn't mind all of that. What he minds, really, is the constant poking and prodding at his skin. 

"Ieiri-san," Yuji gulps down at the particularly long needle in front of him. Up close the silver felt menacing. "Is that. Is that all really necessary?"

Yuji is embarrassed to count how many times he's been shoved into the medical gurney just his first month alone, but Shoko never comments on any of it. His growing apprehension of needles is only marginally decreased in the knowledge she was extremely skilled, surgeon hands and all. But sometimes the glinting of the injection still gets to him.

"Itadori-kun," Shoko appraises him over over her mask. But he could still see the easy smile tugging at her eyes. "Don't worry. I'll go slower this time."

Yuji heaves a sigh of relief, mouth already open to express his gratitude, when they hear a decidedly pointed scoff from somewhere in the corner. 

Shoko's smile vanishes from her face immediately. "What."

Gojo coughs, head turned to the side in obvious defiance. Why he insisted on coming with Yuji to all these check-ups went beyond him. The first few times were a given, after all he was formerly declared dead and it seemed right to hold his hand all the way to recovery because Yuji had been a blubbering mess and Shoko is really, really kind. But he was better now, more grounded in this body and this skin. 

But evidently Gojo thought otherwise, if the open scowl on his face was any indication.

"Spit it out, Gojo," Shoko turns to him, hand on her hip. "We don't have all day."

"Three months," is all Gojo mumbles under his breath, still refusing to turn their way. His chin was upturned, nose raised in dissent. 

Yuji strained his ears to hear. "T-three months? What does that mean?"

Gojo pushes himself off the wall, crossing his arms and sauntering over to the bed. His eyes were on Yuji's but his tone was directed at Shoko. "Three months," he says again, a hint of passive-aggressiveness filtering through. "You've known this kid for three months and already it's Itadori-kun."

Yuji blinks. What, he thinks, at the same time Shoko says exactly, "What."

The bed dips under Gojo's weight, settling himself next to Yuji. He had his glasses off, a rare occasion in itself, but something Yuji came to expect the moment they open the doors to the clinic and he was already reaching to tug them off. 

"How long have we known each other, Shoko?" Gojo gestures to her.

Yuji braves a glance at Shoko, who looked ready to point the needle his way instead. That would work in his favor, actually. Sighing, she says, "Not this again."

"I only mean," Gojo nods to Yuji, who was starting to feel like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. "It's easy for you to address other people properly. Itadori-kun this, Megumi-kun that. Even Nanami gets a kun."

"Get to the point," Shoko waves a hand impatiently.

"Why is it still Gojo for me?"

Yuji blanches. My god, he thought. Is this what they’re really fighting about? He’ll be the first to admit he really hasn't been there for a long enough time to comment on anyone's name-calling preferences. But it had been so painfully clear, even before Megumi took him and Nobara aside one day and spilled all the Gojo secrets he knew in the spirit of team camaraderie, that the doctor who healed him and his teacher had a history. 

It's not an obvious thing, this history, and really Yuji only managed to confirm after a while: but when Gojo told him to go ahead after his resurrection, and he went down the wrong trek back to the dorms and found himself outside the clinic again, and he hears him tell her Thank you. I owe you one. in probably the most somber tone he'd hear Gojo take with any of them: that's when Yuji knew.

Ah, he thought then. So that's history.

"This emotional manipulation didn't work when Megumi was twelve and had measles," Shoko points out, going back to sterilizing her tools. "And it won't work now. Now if you insist on being here every single time I poke this kid, you might as well be useful."

Yuji turns to look at Gojo, expecting some of the mirth he's always used to. Only he's surprised then when he sees a corner of his eye trail after her. He'd never seen Gojo like that: almost.. sad.

"Hold him down."

Sorry, what?

Yuji doesn't have time to dwell on the newfound realization his teacher was capable of other emotions aside from playful and arrogant, because in the next moment Gojo springs back to life and says "Gladly!" with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, and Yuji is once again reminded how much he detested any forms of medical care.

-

Yuji is starting to suspect Gojo has a hidden agenda.

He has no way of asking her just yet, but he's pretty sure Nobara isn't as called into the clinic as often as he was. Granted she wasn't secretly harboring an age-old curse that really was just a fancier way of calling Sukuna an old, bitter hag. Even Megumi, who he is absolutely sure is everyone's secret favorite if Yaga personally monitoring his mission progress and Ijichi taking extra care to make sure all his needs were attended was any indication, is somehow miraculously not spending every weekend holed up in the clinic. 

No, instead it is Yuji, on day three of being tied into different lines of IV drips and having to pee from a catheter that is inconvenienced. 

"Is this okay, Itadori-kun?" Shoko pokes around the IV bag hooked up next to his bed, shifting it around so it wasn't poking into his skin. Really, he should be grateful. But he's fifteen so he's mostly just bored. "It's all good, thank you, Ieiri-san." 

It's not until a month before the Kyoto Goodwill Event, however, that Yuji understands Gojo’s hidden agenda. 

"Good morning to my lovely student and his lovely doctor!" Gojo says barging in, an arm full of The Little Bakery doughnuts and the other expertly balancing two cups of coffee. He is sunlight filtered in, Yuji thinks, but even brighter somehow when he turns to regard Shoko. "How's our patient today, doctor?"

"His vitals are good," she comments dryly, mumbling her thanks when Gojo passes her a coffee. "We'll have to keep him overnight though."

Yuji internally cursed at Sukuna. Really, the old man couldn't have picked a better time to spontaneously play with his body and make him a few degrees hotter than any normal human being or have his heart set to permanently erratic than right now? Yuji had movies to watch, strengthening up to do, friends to stay alive for. This whole vessel thing was really putting a damper on his plans.

But again, evidently, Gojo thought otherwise.

"Yay! Sleepover!" Gojo gushes, diving straight for the nearest bed and settling into the cushions. "And because you're sick, we'll let you pick the movie tonight, Yuji-kun!"

Shoko looked like she was a second away from exploding.

"Gojo," she squares him with a glare. "I don't know how many times I have to say it, but under no circumstance are you allowed to spend any time longer than necessary in my clinic."

Gojo pouts, hugging a pillow to his chest. "But—"

"I keep telling you I'm more than capable of looking after your kid," Shoko turns to him fully, and Yuji can see some of her usual professional detachment thaw. History, it was, he thinks. "After all these years, don't you trust me?"

Yuji flickers a glance at Gojo, too invested in the drama now to care if he was potentially overstepping. The mirth in his eyes was still there, however slightly dulled by her question, but there nonetheless.

"Shoko," he stands up and stops just a breath's hair away. He then says in a low voice, "You know I trust you with my life."

If Shoko was surprised at the surprisingly earnest tone he said it, she didn't let it show. 

Instead, her eyes sharpen. "Then why are you always here for their check-ups?" she gestures to Yuji. "Why are you always hovering over my shoulder like you expect me to hurt him? Why are you always double-checking his safety seals? I'm not sure if you noticed this, but I'm actually good at my job."

"I know you are," Gojo responds right away. Yuji sees his fingers flex at his side, noting how much of an effort it took for him to still. "I don't doubt that. Not in the slightest. It's not you I don't trust."

"Then who is?"

Gojo slowly turns his head. Yuji baulks. "M-me?" he sputters. "Sensei, I would never—"

Gojo shakes his head. "Not you, Yuji-kun," he sighs. "I trust you too, you know that."

Shoko raises her brow. "Then what is it?"

Gojo faces her, and there's a beat of silence that passes, silence that's a little too long but maybe just right for people with history. 

"It's Sukuna."

And that's when Yuji understands, finally, the gravity of it all: Gojo hovered because Sukuna hovered. Gojo, busy and as in-demand as he was, stayed until the end of all his visits because Sukuna didn't operate on a schedule and was unpredictable like that. Gojo insisted on being there for the little and big things because Sukuna didn’t pick and choose which was which. It is for Yuji, this constant surveillance, he knows: but when he sees realization color Shoko's face and her gaze soften in understanding, awareness that if anything happened at any time and at any point she was in a room with Sukuna, that Gojo wanted to be there: Yuji thinks maybe it's for her too.

"Oh," Shoko says, and then: "I see."

-

"You're kidding," Yuji deadpans. "Gojo-sensei and Ieiri-san?!"

Yuji is finally back from the land of the living dead and was now being force-fed dango all the way from Kyoto. Did you go down a size? Megumi frowned as he loaded up his plate, looking suspiciously over his uniform. Is that, Nobara gasped out surveying his face. Are those bags under your eyes? If they were at all grateful for his formerly dead status not being dead, they had a peculiar way of showing it. But having spent a month in total isolation, Yuji could do with peculiar.

The moment they got settled in, he of course had to go into a play-by-play about the month he'd been through. That's when Megumi finally let slip a rather important detail in the Gojo Satoru lore he withheld from them for months all because he thought it wasn't important.

"You idiot!" Nobara twisted the flesh on his elbow. "Of course it's important! We need to know who our sensei is dating if we ever have plans to blackmail him successfully!"

Megumi rubbed at the swollen part of his arm, blinking. "Ah," he nods in understanding. "Well then. That should be no problem. They're not dating."

Yuji wants to smack him over the head. 

Nobara beats him to it.

"Get your stories straight!" Nobara yells. "One minute they're together, the next they're not. Jesus Christ, Fushiguro, you are such a shit gossip."

Megumi looked back and forth between her and Yuji incredulously, unbelieving of his sudden and violent fate. "You told us you were surprised they were closer than you thought," he regards Yuji. "And I just agreed. How is that saying anything about them being together or not?"

"Power of deduction, you fool," Nobara steals his plate of takoyaki, ignoring his protests. Yuji pushes his plate towards him. "We've been speculating about them ever since we saw Gojo-sensei come out of the clinic after midnight."

Yuji almost spits out his drink. "He did what?!"

"They were classmates," Megumi reminds them, dismissive of the idea. Yuji thinks it's half because for most his life he thinks of them as his only two guardians, his own words, and refuses to even consider the idea. "It's only natural they're close."

"Fushiguro, I say with the utmost respect for you," Nobara bats her eyes at him sweetly, before slicing it into a glare. "But shut the fuck up. You clearly don't know enough shit about this to have any formidable opinion."

Megumi finally raised his hands in surrender. "Yes, cause they only brought me up for the better part of ten years! Ieiri-san is my emergency contact, you know!"

Nobara waves him off and turns to Yuji. "So then what else happened?"

"Well," Yuji shrugs. "They just talk a lot. Like a lot, a lot. Hours even. One time I woke up in the middle of the night and I heard her asking him if he filed his taxes correctly for the year and not to wait until the last minute to do it. It's mostly boring, adult stuff. But I think that's the most I've heard Ieiri-san open her mouth since I got here. Gojo-sensei is surprisingly a good listener."

Nobara is noting all of it down on her phone. "Of course, of course," she nods along. "Any 18+ stuff you can share?"

Megumi starts to pale dramatically, covering his ears. "Oi, Kugisaki," he breathes out. "Time and place!"

"Shut up, pretty boy," Nobara snaps at him. "Mom and Dad fuck sometimes."

Now there was no mistaking the color draining from Megumi's face. He turns away from them defiantly and starts reciting a curse speech all the while still covering his ears, and Yuji fights a laugh, because the move had been so Gojo. Nobara ignores all that and turns to Yuji again.

"Anything else?" Nobara urges. "I have a running bet with the girls. Half of them are convinced he's gay while the other half argues that he's just asexual."

This time Yuji does laugh. "And whose side are you on?"

"Please," Nobara scoffs. "I'm practically going to be bathing in riches when this all blows over. Have you seen the way he looks at her?"

-

Megumi, unlike the rest of the student body population, actually doesn't mind getting his monthly check-ups.

"You look a little tired," Shoko frowns over at him from his patient file. "Are you sleeping well, Megumi-kun?"

This is always the first thing Shoko asks him. If it isn't Are you eating well? or How is Tsumiki doing? it is his neurotic sleeping schedule that she's always grilling him on. Megumi has a sneaking suspicion Gojo reports back to her when curfew hits and the lights on his room still don't turn off, because yes, he actually did catch Gojo loitering about the student dorms late at night and checking to see if everyone was accounted for. He'd been doing it since they were kids, when he had to leave for a late night mission and couldn't find a babysitter in time so he tucked them in himself instead of sleeping on the floor like he usually did. 

"As well as can be," Megumi replies honestly, because she'll know. "The Kyoto Exchange is in a few days. So."

"I heard about that," Shoko leans over to put the stethoscope to his chest, instructing him to breathe in and out. "Are you excited?"

Megumi thinks on it, letting the familiar hum and drum of the clinic and its sterile scent ground him. "I think more than excited," he says after a while, contemplative. "I just look forward to seeing everyone again."

Shoko tilts her head. "Even Todo?"

Megumi pouts. "Nevermind."

This time the laugh came from somewhere around Shoko's desk, where Megumi finds Gojo with his legs propped up against her table and reading over her patient notes. Confidential patient notes, as Shoko liked to always remind him when he snatched them away and held them above her head. If I get sued for any confidentiality breach, Shoko glared up at him. You're paying all the legal fees. 

"Excuse him," Shoko rolls her eyes. "He's just bitter he didn't get to do any exchange program during our time."

"Bullshit rule if you ask me," Gojo’s head snaps up. "Why shouldn't special grades participate?"

"Cause if you had played," Shoko reminds him warily. "Then Nanami wouldn't have won and secured the Grade 1 promotion then."

"I was already going to recommend him myself!" Gojo says, huffing. "If only he just waited a few more years! Impatient little brat!"

Megumi was used to the rhythm and meter of their banter: always playful, sometimes an inside joke, but Gojo never taking it too far and Shoko always begrudgingly forgiving him in the end. It's a dynamic he's used to and has slotted himself into with effort: because for as much as Shoko cared about him now, and he knows she does, it wasn't always like that. For awhile he knows all Shoko saw when she saw his face was the man who had so badly beaten up her best friend's faces her hands shook for a week after. 

And Megumi knows this too because Gojo had tirelessly reminded him: I'm alive today because of that woman, he says. She is a little cold, and maybe a little mean. But when I'm on death's door and there's no one left to save me, bring me to her.

"How about you, Megumi-kun?" Shoko snaps the stethoscope back and pats him on the back. For what, he never knew, she just did it. "Are you eyeing to move up?"

"For that brat to move up," Gojo mumbles hotly from the side. "He'd actually need to have the greed for it."

Shoko gestures at Megumi patiently, smiling. "Ignore the boogeyman. Not everyone is as opportunistic as he is."

"I don't really care, to be honest," Megumi admits. "I just wanna do my job well. That's all."

This seems to appease Shoko, who looked like she was just shy of hugging him. It was an answer that was more her than it was him, he knew, and evidently Gojo knew as well: because when Megumi sneaks a glance at him, there is a ghost of a smile on his face. And suddenly everything made sense. 

Contrary to popular belief, Megumi isn't actually as dense. No matter how much Nobara insists he is.

He knows Gojo and Shoko share a history, he'd be dumb not to profile his newly appointed legal guardian otherwise, if anything for the sake of knowing who was going to be introduced into his and Tsumiki's life so suddenly. 

There was a best friend in the picture, who suddenly wasn't, and the Gojo he knew then couldn't be further from how he was now: open, light, a weight that was easy to breathe in. It was hard to be around Gojo during those times, so often sulking and brooding. It wasn't until Shoko was called in the middle of the night because Tsumiki was coughing up blood and Gojo was disoriented that Megumi first saw it: that first break in detachment, this first slate of genuine vulnerability. Pain had been his mask and all it took was a few choice words from her — Pull yourself together, Gojo. These kids aren't a charity case for you to spill your grief into — to sober him up. 

"I—" Gojo startled, looking between Shoko and Megumi, who hid behind her clutching her skirt. "I'm—"

"Clear your head," Shoko pointed at the door, chest heaving. "I'll take care of this."

Jujutsu sorcerers are born with pain built in, Shoko told him quietly that night, after she fed Tsumiki some healing tea and they were tucking her in to sleep. Megumi could only look on in wonder as her fingers gently combed through his sister's hair, voice light as silk. But Gojo has somehow convinced himself he's going to die drowning in it. It's—it's not permanent. We’ll get him back and we'll get through it.

They walk together at night sometimes. Shoko insisted they get some air after being cooped up in the apartment for too long, Gojo readily agreeing and already shrugging a jacket on.

And it's then sometimes, too, Megumi sees: Gojo's hand at the small of her back, glasses off and eyes glued to her face and hanging off her every word; and the general timbre of his body, so closely attuned and listening in, on hers. He can't help but think maybe this is the part that comes after the grief. That maybe they'd really somehow braved through it, stronger but softer somehow. And maybe they aren't together—maybe not just yet—but did it really matter? 

When Gojo himself says bring him to her at death's door, thinks Megumi, there is no love that could ever contain that.

[dissociation-station123]

NanamiXFemreader-Another What If One Shot from my most read Fanfic on Wattpad… ENJOY

"Y/N..." he reaches for your jaw lightly pulling your face up. "Come home with me?" He asks and your heart races. The look of pure endearment was ever so tempting. You bite your lip nervously. Kento was a good guy. "I won't do anything out of line. I just want to spend more time with you."

"Ok..." you whisper and his face lights up. His hand lightly moves from your jaw to your cheek and you intake a sharp breath. Kento jerks his hand back.

"Sorry..." Kento looks a bit embarrassed from his action, which amused you. He awkwardly crosses his arms and you smirk.

"Stop apologizing Kento." You say sternly.

"Right, sorry!" Kento says apologizing again and you shove his shoulder. He laughs realizing what he had done. He holds out his arm for you to take and you loop yours in his.

As you both began walking to the car your other arm was yanked back aggressively. You glare and see Suguru's dark eyes staring into your own. "Don't..." His raspy voice pleads for you when moments ago in the bar he was flirting with a group of women.

"Why?" You ask him pointedly, curious on if Suguru would give you any reason. Suguru's arm falls from your shoulder and he stands there without a rebuttal. You frown and turn away. "Ready Kento?" You ask Nanami and he nods. You follow him to his SUV without a glance back.

Small timeskip

"Kento your penthouse feels like a museum. There is no life here!" You tease him as he gives you a small tour. You take a sip of some fancy wine he poured you as you both end up back in the living room. You pause by the huge glass window that allows you an amazing look above the city. "But this view?! Top tier!"

"Umm thanks?" Kento says, unsure whether to be offended or not. You grin at him, ever since you both arrived in his space you felt how nervous he was. You could sense he hadn't had anyone over in a while. "Want to listen to music? Or watch something?"

"Sure, play some music. Maybe it will liven up the place." You collapse on the couch and down the rest of the wine. You watch as Kento clicks on his phone and connects to a speaker. He then lights some candles and brings the bottle over. Holding it up you allow him to pour you another glass.

"Savor it this time..." Kento scolds you a bit at how quickly you finished the first glass. "It's meant to be tasted, not devoured." He sits beside you and you feel how tense he is.

"Relax! You take things too seriously, Kento." You cross your arms and pout a bit causing him to grin. You poke his side teasingly but it makes him flinch. "Jesus! I'm not going to bite you."

"Sorry... just not used to company." He mutters and you watch him twirl the glass. You giggle at his discomfort and he huffs. You copy his movements twirling your glass pretentiously and sniff.

"Ahh... smells vintage. Well aged." You wink in his direction causing him to laugh. Then you down the second glass and he gawks at you in surprise.

"You're so damn stubborn. If you weren't so cute I swear!" He pushes your shoulder and you laugh. An awkward silence falls, only the low music fills the room. "I feel that I may bore you." Kento looks at his lap shyly.

"I enjoy your company. You say I'm cute!" You lift his chin with your finger. You notice a small blush on his cheeks and you bite your lip. "What makes Kento Kento?!" You ask to distract yourself from wanting to take advantage of his self consciousness.

Kento looks down at you trying to recover. "Well I have basically been a part of my family business since I was a kid. I was told how to act and talk. What not to do. To always present myself with a sense of dignity. With people telling me how to be I am not really sure. You have me questioning who I am. What I really want." Your heart aches for him. You frown deeply at his words. "It's ok I never wanted for anything."

"I mean... damn... You did though. You wanted attention. You wanted affection. You wanted to live a normal life. Not be a mini adult at the age of ten." You sigh and pour more wine in both your glasses. "Cheers to childhood trauma!" You lift your cup and he clicks it with an amused smirk.

"I feel like I keep venting to you. About work and my life. All you have ever done is help me. Can I repay you? Is there something you need to get off your chest?" Kento turns and you freeze up. It felt as if a bright spotlight suddenly shifted onto you. It's been a while since you were scared of judgement. You didn't want him to think less of you for the lifestyle you lived.

"Me? Well uh..." you try to think of a clever thing to say but he clicks his tongue at you. "Fine... I've had a rough time with what direction I want to take. I was offered a traveling promotion. Which is amazing moneywise. It would be a cool adventure..." you lifted your right hand as if physically weighing the odds. "Then I miss my home. Though at the moment my home really hasn't been the same..." you bite your tongue to stop anymore word vomit from escaping. You were now the one blushing.

"Go on." He waits patiently for you to explain. You wearily look over at him. "I won't judge, I promise." He sounds confident in his reply.

"I kind of slept with both of my best friends and now I don't know how to feel about it...." You mumble at a record breaking speed. Kento did not breath for a second.

"I'm assuming you mean you fucked them. Together?" Kento says and you gasp.

"Kento language!" You chastise him causing him to roll his eyes but he smirked. "Yes at the same time. Like a damn fool!" You groan and he laughs. "It's not funny! I'm struggling here..." you push him as he continues to laugh.

"I would never judge you. I think you're incredible and very strong. Sometimes things just occur." He shrugs trying to make you feel better. He lifts his glass to sip the wine.

"When was the last time shit like that happened to you?" You blurt out and he coughs on his drink. "Come on tell me!!" You beg and he tries to regain his composure.

"A threesome?" He asked, trying not to sound condescending. "I have never... not that it's wrong..." he backpedals dramatically.

"When was the last time you released any stress?" You ask, now curious about this man who was all business. Wondering if he truly did not play.

He looks down embarrassed, "it's been a while. I've been busy trying to work on my business's reputation. Not a lot of free time." You felt it was suddenly your duty to help this overworked man to relax. You lean forward and he makes an audible shocked sound. You bite his neck and feel him shiver under you.

"I lied, I do bite." You laugh at his reaction as you glance up at him.

"Y/N.... Don't do that." His voice suddenly became extremely serious. You watch as his hand that was not holding his glass clenched into a fist. You inhale a sharp breath. A current internal conflict takes place in your mind. The vision of Suguru grabbing onto your arm pleading not to go. The feeling of disappointment when he refused to explain why he was stopping you. Why do I have to control myself when they won't even talk to me?! Anger begins to replace your doubt. You were done waiting on them to confess what they were thinking. Fuck them...

"Why are you scowling?" Nanami asks. You realize you were still invading his space. "Did I do something to make you upset?" You could see the worry on his features. You smile sweetly and shake your head.

"No. You have been nothing but a gentleman, Kento Nanami. I feel you are always thinking of others. Worrying about everyone else. What is something you want? Something you desire?" You genuinely want to know. He seemed so selfless and you were always surrounded by selfish people.

Kento's gaze turns away from your own. He glances off to the side. "Me? Well I..."

"Look at me..." you say lowly and he hesitantly brings his eyes back to yours. "What do you need?"

"Y/N..." he breathlessly says your name and your stomach flips excitedly. You had no plans to give yourself to him but the way he called out your name made something break inside of you. "I couldn't... I am fine." You decide if you don't make the first move he was never going to.

You take his glass and set it on the coffee table, he looks at you quizzically. You then begin to straddle his lap. "Fuck... wait..." Nanami cursed, his eyes pleaded but it was more of a warning. You ignore the danger and tighten your thighs around his. You felt his heart begin to race. "I shouldn't..."

"Breath...." You whisper calmly and watch as he tries to breathe normally, his eyes darting around the room. "That's good... now look at me." His gaze falls to yours but lowered. "Do you want me?" You asked, surprised at how you maintained control.

"Yes.... So much..." his voice becomes deeper, "but I know you are going through something. I am serious about you. I don't want you to feel bad. I also selfishly don't want to be hurt if you decide I am not what you want."

You felt your hearten tighten at his words. This man thought that it was selfish to protect himself from pain. That idea makes you wonder how he developed such a strange habit. You wanted to heal him. He also recognized your trauma, within the short amount of time you had spent with him. Could you heal each other?

"God, you're so amazing! Honestly you deserve the fucking world Kento..." you want to cry for him. You feel a tear slide down your cheek and he hurries to wipe it away. "I really don't want to hurt you. I think you made it impossible for me not to want you." You lean your forehead against his. Both your eyes clothes as he nuzzles against you. The touch comforting you both from the overwhelming emotions hitting you at once.

"You deserve to never be denied your wants..." Nanami pauses and you gasp when he brings his lips onto yours. You both let out a small moan, the kiss easily becoming heated due to the tension that had been building.

You feel your mind trying to shout at you to confirm this is what Nanami truly craved. "Kento..." you push his chest weakly. Nanami fights to stop himself. "Are you sure you're ok with this?" You wait with bated breath for his response.

"Yes... let me please you... I want to see your satisfied expression." You feel his cock twitch under you at the mere thought of your face during the climax. You groan and grind against his lap. His head falls back and a soft moan escapes. Your fingers entangle in his hair and you yank his head back up causing him to whine sweetly.

"No... not until I please you." He opens his mouth to protest but you wrap your hand around his throat and kiss him hungrily. You feel his hands take hold of your hips and he pushes you down forcing you to continue grinding your clothed pussy against his hardening cock. You lift up from the messy kiss, both of you now drooling messes.

You bite your lip as you sit back observing him. Kento was beyond flustered by you straddling his lap. "You're so adorable." You coo taking in his labored breathing and the blush that covered his cheeks. He struggled to respond when you began to slide down onto the floor between his legs.

"What are you doing?" Kento asked, clenching his fists.

"If it is ok with you Kento I'm going to suck your dick." You hold in a laugh as his eyes widen from your brazen statement. You tilt your head to the side waiting for his answer.

"You don't have to do that Y/N..." Kento muttered, his eyes rolled back as your hands moved up to caress his thigh.

"I want to..." You gasp, rubbing your thighs together at his reaction. "Please." You lightly beg and you hear a small whimper escape his lips. "Just nod for me if it's alright."

You smile seductively when he follows your order. You lean up and slowly begin to unbutton his pants. You watch the rise and fall of his chest as you pull down his zipper. You palm his cock through the fabric of his boxers, relishing the deep groan Kento makes.

You were now becoming desperate to make him produce more sounds. You greedily pull out his dick, already throbbing for attention. You lick your bottom lip in anticipation. Wasting no time you circle your tongue around the tip.

"Oooo god..." Kento cries out and you moan against him. You feel his entire body tense up as you trace the prominent vein along the shaft with your tongue. "You're amazing." Kento praises, his fingers digging into the leather of the couch.

You look up confidently as you place him in your mouth. You watch as Kento's head falls back andhe swallows heavily. You slowly move your head up and down, sucking gently. You take your time to tease him until he is a shaking mess.

"Y/N..." Kento calls out your name in a strained tone. "I'm so sorry about this... I just... I can't... " You are about to lift your head to scold him for apologizing when his large hands painfully fists your hair. "I need more..."Kento growls and forces you back down. Pushing his cock roughly to the back of your throat.

With a small warning he loses all control. Ferociously face fucking you, bucking up into your mouth. You groan as you choke on his length, your nails now digging into his thigh to hold yourself together. When you feel his tip reach the back of your throat you swallow around him and he loudly moans. "Sweetheart..." Nanami cooes mindlessly, "swallow all my cum for me... I know you can handle it..."

You moan as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. A deep groan echoes across the room as he unloads all his built up essence into your throat. He then slowly pulls out of your mouth with a satisfied sigh. The amount of cum is overwhelming, spilling from the corners of your lips as you struggle to swallow it all down. After gulping your mouthful your tongue darts out to lick up the rest. "That's it... such a good girl." You whine as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand affectionately. Nanami then closes his eyes reclining back onto the couch, you hear another groan.

"You ok?" You ask after gaining your composure back. He had leaned his head back trying to steady his breathing, you feel his body still convulsing.

"Hah..." Nanami holds up a finger to beg you to allow him a second, still struggling. You grin wickedly. You lean forward and take him back into your mouth. "Fuck... too much!" Nanami shakes under you. "Mmmm... too much..." he cries out scratching at the couch as he loses all composure. You groan at his pathetic writhing.

"Cum for me again... I know you have more for me." You command then shove him down your throat again. You look up at him and he is aggressively biting his lip, tears escaping the corner of his eyes.

"Y/N... have mercy..." Nanami begs so softly between his whimpers. You felt your pussy throb at the sight causing you to increase your movements. He tries to remove your head but it was a weak attempt. "Ngh... you're so bad..." he gives up submitting to you falling back in defeat. His body is still quivering and his legs begin shaking uncontrollably. A minute later he screams as he bust in your mouth once again.

Nanami is softly whimpering as his head falls back against the couch. You stand up and straddle him again and you run your fingers through his hair. "Shhh... your ok Kento... your ok..." you comfortingly whisper and kiss away a falling tears. Nanami takes in sharp breaths overstimulated, every light touch causing a moan. You kiss his lips softly and he tries his best to return it unable to stop his pathetic whines.

After a few sweet kisses along his face you feel his breathing slow to a normal pace. You lean up to observe him and his eyes open. His body stills and you hear him clear his throat. You laugh at the state you had left him in and his eyes suddenly glaze over. "I don't appreciate looking like a fool in front of someone I care deeply about." Nanami hisses and you feel a shift in his demeanor.

"You were so cute..." you begin to say and his palm wraps around your mouth. Your eyes widen unprepared for his aggressive reaction.

"I think I'll return the favor..." he growls into your ear and then bites down harshly in your neck. "Hold on tight, beautiful." You shout into his hand in surprise as he picks you up, you cling your legs around his waist. Giggling a bit when he struggles to kick off his pants. He reprimands this by slapping your ass and you groan.

He tosses you on the bed and orders you to strip. You laugh at his stubborn behavior surfacing. Still holding onto the image of his face, tears and drool stained. You remove your clothes and cross your arms as you watch him pull a tie from his dresser. "Look at you all huffy. You have no reason to feel shame with me Kento." You say and he glares at you as he pulls his own clothes off. You run your tongue across your teeth as you admire his body.

"Bend over..." he mutters causing you to smirk. You stretch your arms above your head, watching his eyes travel down your body drinking you in.

"Kento... you don't have to prove yourself..." you tease him and he rushes forward. He takes hold of the back of your neck roughly. "Mmm manhandling me.. who are you?" He pushes your head down, flipping you on your stomach. He painfully yanks your arms behind your back and tightly ties your wrists together. You gasp being suffocated by the mattress.

"Are you done?" He says digging your face further into the soft material. You attempt to shake your head needing air. He releases you and you gasp for breath. "Not so hard right." He says with an attitude. You pout but decide not to comment for your own safety.

You brace yourself as you arch your body for him, expecting him to shove himself inside of you. Instead you feel his mouth suck up your soaking pussy juices. "Kento!!" You scream out your fingers gripping the sheets.

"You taste divine sweetheart. Fine wine does not even compare to your flavor." He groans as he continues to eat you from behind. You were now a panting mess, your eyes rolling back at the feel of him sucking and licking you.

"Fuck!!! I'm going to..." you feel yourself lose your train of thought as your legs shake violently. You moan loudly as you cum against his face, you hear Nanami make a pleased sound. Your entire body jerks, your shoulders aching from being restrained. You whine when he bites your thigh purposely leaving a dark bruise.

Nanami pulls your ass a part wasting no more time he pushes himself deep into your still clenching cunt. He makes a deep guttural sound as he slams into you with vigor. Tugging on your arm he uses your body to please his own. You shout out in pain and pleasure, unable to look back at him, you take the abuse. "You needed this didn't you... fuck..." you whine as you struggle to keep yourself upright as he is pounding into you with no consciousness. Releasing all the tension he had built up, he does not answer you, he just groans and curses as your body is roughly jolted back and forth.

Apparantly he was not fucking you hard enough for his liking because you are grabbed by the waist and dragged to the edge of his bed with his cock buried deep. Shoving your lower back down and raising your ass higher. "Kento... please..." you whimper and a smack to your ass was the only response as he angles himself and pushes even further. "Fuck! Fuck!" You mutter intoxicated by how feral he was.

He does not acknowledge your cries as he wrecks you. The fact he ignores you causes your walls to clench tightly. "Feels so good..." you hear Nanami moan quietly. Your next orgasm was brought on by his hands digging into the meat of your upper thigh. He makes a strangled groan as you convulse around him screaming his name pathetically. Before your body is fully recovered he groans deeply and pushes you down, you feel his hot seed coat your lower back. He snatches your head back, "Enjoy my scent gorgeous. Be proud of it." He whispers his breath tickling your neck, you stare at him doe eyed, fucked stupid.

You watch him lean an arm against the wall trying to regain some form of composure. “I'll be right back." You hear him say as he leaves you soaking in his cum.

"How do you even have my number?!" You hear an annoyed Nanami enter the room, a warm wet washcloth and dry towel in hand. You raise an eyebrow as he huffs into the phone. Nanami leans down and kisses your forehead sweetly then wipes up the mess he left. "Of course she is fine Gojo!" He shouts but then his eyes widen as if he remembers how rough he was with you. He covers the phone's speaker and whispers down to you, "Are you ok?" You hear the concern in his tone. You smile up and nod yes and you watch relief flood over him.

"That's very chivalrous of you. If she will have me I will give her the world. Now I'm hanging up." Nanami clicks the end call button. "How do you put up with him?" You laugh and try to hold up your tied wrist. "O my goodness! I'm so sorry!" He quickly unties you and you stretch your body. "Are you sure I was not too hard on you? I've had a stressful month and well it's been a while since well you know..." he gestures.

You crawl over to him and he opens his arms to you. You sit on his lap and nuzzle your face into his neck. "Since you fucked?" You grin and he scoffs at your use of language, "Stop doubting yourself. I am fine. You were something else... you can take your frustration out on me whenever you want."

You hear him chuckle and he rubs your back softly. "Let me cook for you. Stay as long as you want."

"Aww persuading me with food! Very smart! I'll stay for a while. This place is livelier than I thought." You try to stand but your knees buckle and Nanami catches you.

"How about you lay here for a bit. I'll make you a bath and once it is complete I'll help you to it. Then we can enjoy a meal together?" Nanami asks and you agree. He smiles brightly as he tucks you in. "I'll be much gentler next time. I promise." He kisses you sweetly and you sigh. "Let me take care of you. You won't regret it." He whispers as he lifts away from the kiss.

A strange feeling washes over you. You felt so content at this very moment. No worries crossed your mind as your eyes began to feel heavy. No thoughts of your friends, just the man who made you as feral as he had been...

[canonedhours]

Re #80 & #90. Truly in awe by that anon's deduction skills. Let's keep using that logic. I mean, do we even have any proof anyone is anything other than white? Perhaps Zheng, since she's called the queen of China by name (although even that is flimsy, since historically she hadn't even been born, maybe she's an impostor). But Spanish Jackie is obviously of white Spanish descent, as her name indicates (she says she isn't, but maybe she's lying, can we take that as evidence?), and Frenchie is obviously a frenchman, also white (I mean, he did say he was "in service", rather than slavery). Oh, maybe Roach could be considered poc, since he gets called a racial slur by one of the navy men in 1x09. Is that the kind of evidence you need?

Ed is played by a Māori actor, both as an adult and as a child, and so is his mother. Using the "historical accuracy" argument is ludicrous for ofmd, which uses the Historical Record as toilet paper. The fact that he isn't white is in fact a pretty relevant factor to even understanding a big chunk of his narrative ("we're not those kinds of people", and being pigeonholed into the scary, performatively aggressive Blackbeard role, because he felt like it was his only choice for so long. Or even when it comes to fandom takes, like the people refusing to see that his violence is directed towards his long-time abuser, after being pushed to his breaking point, and how incredibly racist it really is to perpetuate the trend of painting poc as the aggressors when they finally break and lash out against the white people who have been consistently abusing them).

Two of Taika's ta moko pieces did in fact get covered up for the show, as is understandable because they have deep personal significance for him, and this in no way negates the fact that Ed is maori. You could also look at a few of his tattoos that didn't get covered up, like his marae or the te reo names of his daughters, or the birds on his clavicle and his shoulder, which are autoctonous to aotearoa. So many of the details in his gravy basket are references to his aotearoa heritage as well.

Anon, you really could use that energy you're putting into defending your racist headcanons into doing some self-reflection about your biases and educating yourself, because saying "there's no evidence Ed isn't white" is truly the most Racist take I've heard in my two years in this fandom.

92

89 (which I assume they meant)

90

[chaotic-clouds]

Another theme I really love in little nightmares 2 is how all the beings affected by the Signal Tower can be interpreted as representations of the different kinds of abuse children face throughout their life.

(Now bc of the recent LN podcast that came out giving some insight on how the LN universe works, we know kids that end up there are usually there because they’ve experienced severe trauma and/or abuse throughout their lives. What we also know now is that adults can also end up there, but instead these adults are usually the abusers, which is what makes this world 10x more nightmarish for the kids that inhabit it.)

But I’m not gonna get too into the logistics of the podcast for now though because I’ve not watched it entirely, and I still think this interpretation can be applied with or without the podcast context so I’ll just give my personal thoughts on the main antagonists in general for now!

Starting off with The Bullies I think their symbolism is most obvious, abuse from peers. In typical bully fashion the way they attack you is usually in hoards, killing you with their bare hands instead of a special ability. They even set out traps or what could be seen as a deadly prank, to kill anyone that is unfortunate to set it off. And while yes you are their main target because you are an outsider and “not one of them”, they also seem to regularly harass each other as well, emphasizing the cruel and vindictive nature they internalize (like when mono and six come across a solitary room with a chair in it, implying that the bullies regularly tied some people up and left them there for days, weeks even). But my favorite part is despite how cruel and aggressive they act, the form that the signal tower has turned them into is a porcelain doll, one that while keeping the appearance of a child is instead hollow and just as easy to kill (if not more than a regular kid). The bullies are the closest thing to the regular survivors of LN, but because of their cruel actions in defense of deeply buried insecurities, the Signal Tower has turned the bullies into fragile hollow husks of hate that will forever showcase the damage done to them outwardly, without any chance of concealing the cracks and pieces missing.

When it comes to The Teacher I’m not as sure, but I think she is meant to represent the abuse that individuals in power (specifically the education system) can commit to those underneath their rank. She’s extremely strict and cruel in her punishments, and has stricken fear into even the rowdiest of bullies, her class being dead silent as she teaches nonsense for however long she wishes. Adding onto this, she seems to be the sole person in power to the entire school, setting the schedule however she pleases. With her extensive neck I think this also can be seen as another act of dominance on her part, being able to literally be above whoever crosses her.

The Doctor is less direct, but I think he represents how those put in more knowledgeable and trusted positions can easily take advantage of those they’re supposed to protect. In this case towards his patients that he has taken advantage of and turned into his own experiments, but what confuses me is to why he’s on the ceiling? I mean it could just be as a way to be disturbing but I think it could be conveying how the doctor’s moral views have been so warped that he is literally viewing the world upside down.

The Hunter to me is also a little more confusing. I’m not sure what abuse he would embody but again he is farther from the pale city, so perhaps he’s not as in line with the Signal Towers influence/theme.

The Viewers in my opinion, represent neglect and addiction. While technically passive until provoked, they are designed to make you feel as though you’re walking on eggshells around them whenever you have to walk through the room they’re in. But because of them not caring about you whatsoever, you can pretty much just do whatever you want around them and they won’t even blink an eye until is directly disrupting the connection between them and the signal tower, in which case they get extremely violent, making a sound akin to screaming as they get up in your face to suck the life out of you. Their appearance also has a lot to say about their condition; The way their faces have been distorted and how uniform they all look, the Signal Tower has pretty much sucked the life out of them and made them forget who they ever were, possibly also representing how the relationship between them and whatever children they had would be so distant, that the kid wouldn’t see them as any different than a stranger they walked past on the street.

Aaaand because this post is now way too long maybe I’ll rant about how this applies to Mono and Six’s transformation via the Signal Tower another day. (Also this is just a silly interpretation!! So take this with a grain of salt, I’m sure someone else has explained this like 10x more literate than I could but I just love talking about this game 💔)

[telleroftime]

Here's a list of headcanons I would like to explore in that Scroop x Farmer!Reader fanfic. The setting I'm going for will make keeping him in character difficult, but I'll try. I refuse to back away from a challenge:

Scroop hates when people see him make mistakes. He hates not being able to do things right the first time around. Whether that came from trauma or it’s something that came from within his heart - both things being very internalised - he will often stop trying if he can't master the skill quickly. Mistakes make him very overwhelmed though not like he would ever admit it.

It is something that is fairly easy to spot. He will get more defensive and mean as a way to deter anyone who would dare comment.

He will exploit any weaknesses and acts of kindness, mocking it like he did when he overheard Silver be kind to Jim. He himself isn't as strong as he makes himself out to be, so by acting like that he actively elevates himself, at least in his mind.

Scroop hates being at the bottom of the food chain. If there's a chance acting like a crude asshole will set him higher - and in return berate the other person - he will do it. He doesn't care for the immediate consequences. It makes him feel in control.

Scroop is impulsive. Like mentioned in the previous point, he will act without caring for the immediate reactions of others. Will he get in trouble for something? Possibly, but it's worth it if the lasting consequences make life harder for his target.

He will take things without asking. He will mock people for his own amusement. He will let anger, his strongest emotion, take hold of him. He does things for his own benefit without caring much about other people's feeling. At least not until he gets some time to think.

He hates when his things are touched without his consent or knowledge. He’s extremely protective of his belongings. Naturally so as being a pirate meant a significant lack of trust. Well, at least he didn't trust anyone. He will attack anyone that so much as tries to take his things and he will guard it like a swan protecting its chicks.

And to solidify that previous point: trust issues galore.

Often misunderstands people's actions to the point that anything could be seen as a threat or an insult and will result in him getting aggressive. Someone wants to check his temperature? He'll try and slash at them. Someone is laughing in his company? They must be laughing at him. Someone is walking in his general direction? He's ready to draw his cutlass.

Aaand that's it for now. The general idea is making Scroop grow throughout the fic. Reader will do their best to teach him some morals and Scroop will try and unlearn some of this bad, pirate habits. Not so much that he's OOC, but enough.

Also, because planning a fanfic gives me more joy than actually writing it, it might be a while yet till I write this. There's a chance this will end up like all of my other WIPs. Just wanted to throw that out there. There is no guarantee of me completing this.

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

7 Snippets

Tyy for the tag @dujour13 ! im very bad at selecting small snippets, so under the cut they go!

one wotr Cecio, mostly jojos Celia n co, bc i have been rotating how they interact all week, with a peek at the two CeliaXElena ockiss pieces [born to run&everlasting kiss]

im about to log off but if anyone hasn't been tagged please take this as your tag!

snippet one: Dear Sister

Red, red, everywhere. I never understood ‘seeing red’ as a phrase for when fury takes over, but it seems I am now drowning in it, staining my hands, my clothes, my soul. It was as easy as drowning. I finally saw the rising tide for what it was, and made one last struggle against the waters with the angel's light, but I felt the red flood down my throat all the same, and I succumbed. Yet I find I breathe easier now, even as my corpse lies at my feet, even as the water takes me. My mind is quiet and my body is mine. That is to say, the good man is dead. I am what's left. But you know all about that don’t you, my dear sister?

snippet two: all i got's a photograph

Black hair and a sharp face, almost in profile, pressed against her own golden curls, as he wrapped around her, one pale arm slung over her shoulder and the other coming out from under her own, to hide underneath her jacket, wrapping around her torso. Conficcare. Her second oldest friend, and one of the only people who could aggressively cling to her like that and get away with it in public. She has to fight the smile, just like the Celia in the photograph, exasperated fondness is the strongest emotion in her heart when she thinks of him. Conficcare. The next strongest emotions he evokes are regret, are sorrow, for the child he was, the man he became, and her part in both of those. Much can be said of how long they have known each other, have fought for each other, have loved each other, all of them.  Little is said on how it took time to get past that first stage. It's easy to look back at the history, and say it was rosy, but for every fight back to back, there is one face to face, for every kind word- for every mean word said in jest, is one in truth.

snippet three: There was no way this house could hold the two of us, i guess that we were too much of the same kind

Finally, something snaps inside Rametto, and he turns to Celia, making painfully direct eye contact, lips twisted into a sneer as he bares his teeth, “You’re not my damn father, what do you care?” He sees golden eyes go wide, and he regrets it immediately. Hes- hes not like his brother. He's careful. He opens his mouth again, wishing he could brush it all under a rug- “I know- I know I have no right-”  her voice shakes and he wishes he could say it's the last night, the exhaustion, but it feels like he can see her properly, and that exhaustion is not just from one night spent worrying over numbers, its a lifetime of exhaustion, and Celia is only nine years older than him, only six years older than Cecio, and suddenly he realises she's so damn young.  Something in the back of his mind is screaming, terrified.  She breaks eye contact first, ducking her head, and suddenly it feels terribly dark in the kitchen.

snippet four: for what its worth, i never meant you any pain

Golden eyes flick to the report cards pinned with touristy magnets on the fridge, and the part of Celia that raised Cecio wonders if she needs to stop him staying out so late, but the part of her that sees who Cecio is now, knows there isn't much hope. Not for Rametto, not for the little brother of Conficcare, the protege of Muro, for the boy who will become a man, and step into a whole new world of violence. At her orders.  Her head shakes, trying to banish the thoughts from her face as the outer door clicks, and she settles back into stillness, waiting to see what Rametto does. Pause, unlace his shoes, then try and place them on the floor quietly is the first part of that answer. He opens the inner door and treads carefully, avoiding floorboards like he's seven and superstitious again, making his way towards the cupboards, putting his bag on the floor and letting it lean against the side of the counter, leaning down himself to unzip it -and taking out the battered metal box Celia remembers Stecco taking to school, still with the dent from where she threw it at his head but changed trajectory at the last second, hitting the metal pole he was leaning on instead.

snippet five: born to run

In hindsight Celia is sure she screamed, teeth flashing, and she gripped the steering wheel and slammed her foot on the pedal, her instinct taking over, calculating angles and skid and acceleration, a too fast stream of information, as her brain shut out anything beyond what was strictly necessary, trusting in Elena to solve any attempted sabotage.

snippet six: i wanna die with you wendy on the streets tonight in an everlasting kiss

She doesn't mind letting the cold seep into her through her coat, Elena right next to her and gazing out at the city skyline, doesn't mind it at all. If her eyes linger on the person beside her, on the folds of leather, on the still paint splattered hands, on her eyes and face and lips, then that's her secret. Elena is too distracted to notice her lingering gaze, hands twitching like she wants to reach for a paint brush, as her eyes stare into the distance, mind whirring with composition and colour.  She's an artist to the bone, got creation on her soul, and one day, Celia prays, Elena will have the time and money to put to canvas every painting she ever dreamed of making, even the ones she's daydreaming of now, when it's just half formed thoughts to distract herself while waiting.

snippet seven: everlasting [kiss again]

A voice next to her bites out, “Idiota” any malice blunted by the fondness that underlies every syllable. And Celia turn her head towards her sun and grins too, wide and full of love, giggles turning to cackles, Tesoros shoulders shaking alongside his head, as he lowers his arms and reveals his own grin, and finally Elena cracks to, rolling her eyes as the twitch at the corner of her mouth turns into a smile, lovingly frustrated, but then her eyes glint maliciously and she opens her mouth again-

[42bakery]

Re: https://www.tumblr.com/42bakery/760715378983911424/this-pecco-alex-thingy-has-kinda-reminded-me-of?source=share

(I'm the same anon and to clarify, it wasn't meant to be anti-anyone)

Also adding to what I said about what Michel Fabrizio said, I think it was so tasteless to use kids' deaths to say such things, especially when Maverick rides next ro Marc in the grid. But yeah, I'm worried about Misano because the whole thing is heated and we're going to spend 3 weeks there,the fault lies in the Box Official account which yes, I know is not officially from VR46 BUT, the account was followed by them (and TNT) and has over 70k followers (which is more than the attendance of Aragón)

What I heard a couple of journalists (admittedly I think Pecco mentioned it too) was that Alex didn't even look at him when going to race direction, that's what I meant about Alex telling him they would talk later in private which is something they did later(which, normal thing to do and the most mature I think). But yeah, Alex suffering by proxy is just, not fair. I think there's already much weight on his shoulders in terms of not being as good as Marc, which I'm sure Luca also suffers from (I don't think Pol did, tho,he was better than Aleix) but Lucia's position in the grid isn't as questioned as his (rn, he's on Honda hell) when he has 2 world championships. Again, there's a lot of riders who have one or none and who's status isn't as questioned. I remember when post-2015 Dorna announced that they were giving Jorge, Marc AND Alex bodyguards in Italy (which will surely make an appearance in Misano, like I'm sure Rodolfo is always booked as soon as the calendar comes out) and Alex shouldn't need one? He shouldn't be affected by what other riders IN A DIFFERENT CATEGORY do or don't do and it's just insane that death threats are being sent because two riders crashed. It makes me think of any time they crash Marc or Alex out, how they rarely complain about it. And I know a lot of people will say "well, it's because they, or at least Marc, do this all the time" and while yeah, that might be the reason, it doesn't mean that they can't complain when others do they same thing the same way other riders complain about them. It reminds me of when Jorge crashed Marc out of Valencia, how everyone and their mother, including Jorge at first, blamed Marc for it. And still to this day people blame him because if a Marquez is involved, it automatically has to be their fault. When Luca and Alex crashed... Who was at fault? Alex, even though he fell in the middle of the track and could've been ran over it wasn't about how good it was that nothing had happened, it was about Karma and whatever. Even when Zarco admitted to crashing Marc on purpose in Qatar las year to help Jorge, there wasn't as many people talking about that than about this. Hell, it was okay for Zarco to help Jorge but it isn't for Alex to help Marc (I do think he doesn't defend his position to him as strongly as he does others, but Marc also doesn't overtake Alex as aggressively as he does the other riders). When Pecco got the penalty by being slow in the racing like and ruining Alex' flying lap, people complained about Alex and Pecco threw him to the wolves before the press. So when Bradl did the same thing to Marc, he had to say that it was okay (and yeah of course is a bit different because Bradl was already dead last but still). While other riders blame their bike, Marc and Alex don't do so as much publicly and always try to take responsibility of it when they've made a mistake, like when Marc crashed in Austria. Like are they angels? No, but they're also not the monsters they make them out to be.

The reason why I said 2018 and not 2015 was that it was 2018 that Valentino said Marc was dangerous, which I think resonates for for this instance than 2015. Granted, they're doing the whole "a Marquez is helping a Spanish rider named Jorge win the championship against an Italian Valentino Rossi/ Rossi adjacent rider" thing saying that if Pecco loses it'll be Alex fault but Pecco has had some DNFs where he made mistakes and didn't get points.

About the 'rigging', what I heard is that Gigi sent one of his trusted engineers to help Marc with the set up and some people are interpreting Pecco's words that Marc "has something more [...] and that he does things that no other Ducati rider can do" as him saying that Marc has received factory pieces and factory help so that he would be the one to win in Aragon. Personally I interpreted it as the Ducati riders looking into Marc's data and having the same issues Pol, Joan, Cal or Bradl have had with him at Honda in which they didn't understand his data nor could they replicate his riding style without crashing (as said by them). He won because the set up was good from the start (it already was good in Austria) and the track conditions played into his unique abilities and also his experience with dirt tracks that allowed him to ride the Ducati by sliding the back kinda like he did with the Honda (which yes, other riders also do, but it is something they took up later in life while the Marquez brothers were groomed on the dirt track before the CEV and all that), and his beloved left handed corners.

Anyway IDK, I guess I'm upset because it's Misano coming up and I don't like how tense everything seems. Some journalists said it was 'spicy' but two riders being threatened is not spicy, it's deranged as hell.

Anyway sorry for the rant and my English, it's not my first language

Ups anon, I completely forgot about this ask. I saw it at work and I thought to answer it later, but then I didn’t and somehow my inbox got filled by other stuff and then I just forgot. So I’m sorry I’ answering this so damn late.

First of all, your English is okay, and I don’t think there is a lot of people who have English as their first language. As far as I witnessed, there’s a lot of Italians, from the South-East of Asia and then Brits and USA (and like 3 to 5 Spanish native speakers 😭).

Sorry for accusing you of being a hater, but lot of haters did that. They start to say something, and then turn around and throw that people under the bus and I though that was what you were doing to Marc. So, I’m sorry if I didn’t really understand it. My mistake and I apology for it.

Anon, I think you need to change the content you follow on social media. I mean it, you clearly follow some anti-Márquez and pro-Rossi, and that clearly is twisting the perspective. Also the VR46 is like a cult, it moves lot of people, and what unites them is their love for Vale and their hate to Marc (and Álex) and Uccio is probably their leader with Bezz and Pecco at the front.

I can understand not wanting to talk and not looking to the riders just after the accident, even not the same time, but that never allows the other rider to do what Pecco did. I'm more on Álex side, calm down and talk later only us because the race direction won't do anything to penalize a top rider, so better soleve this things in privat, but alas someone was very against it and points fingers and scream into the media.

because Misano has pass, we can know say that this really didn't help, Italy still gets Marc, and Pecco gave them a reason to boo and be assholes. I hope that their behaviour changes for the Emilia-Romagna GP, but I doubt it.

Okay if Zarco really crashed into Marc because Ducati told them, it shows 1) Ducati are assholes and need to be banned and 2) Zarco is a dangerous rider for even entertain the idea. If someone tells you to crash into another rider, you say no and then repot them. Motorcycling i dangerous enough to add that. Every crash, no matter how big it is, can end in disaster, and for Zarco to do that, he lost every bit of credibility he ever had. Hell he can go straight to hell or the equivalent of it in any religion. A rider like that has no space in MotoGP (or any mortoracing series).

If Pecco loses, he will take the recipts and also blame Marc for the incident in Portugal, which was also a similar incident and his own fault. Pecco doesn't know how to porperly fight in a clean way and is always cutting other's riders lines. And I'm not saying this because I'm not his fan, just look when he fights with any rider, like Jorge, the other rider is the one that cuts to avoid the contact, and when that doesn't happen, there's a crash. This also happened with Binder, and he was quick to try and throw him under the bus and ask a penalty, but I think it was the media who said if Binder gets a penalty so does Bagnaia in Portugal because both actions are the same. And same here. Bagnaia cuts the line and makes the first conctant. Álex loses the bike and crashes. had Pecco given him more space, this wouldn't had happen. Apparently is always about who couls have avoided it, and for me it's 60-65% Pecco and 35-40%Álex. Whereas in Portugal it was more of a 50-50% situation.

I didn't know Gigi was keeping a close eye, but makes sense because this year Ducati is doing things differently. This year riders don't have the full bike until Valencia 2024, whereas other year they give the final one to use for the whole year. I though Ducati was doing that to compare Marc with Pecco's and Jorge's data and see if he was good enough for the Factory team, and he has proven himself. And the reason he's doing things no other rider is doing is because when conditions neutralize the bike, it's all on the riders hand, and Marc is THE best one out there, and he has proven it over and over again. And I think at this point Marc is not relying so much on the past dara and set ups and is focussing more on himself and what he needs, so basically showing Ducati the middle finger and doing his own thing

Sure Marc got Factory help and factory pieces, but so does Bagnaia, Álex, Bezz and every other rider. Bagnaia is just throwing a tantrum because he can't win against Marc in the same conditions. I'm sorry, but I'm sure he will be this insufferable for the next 2 years.

Again, I'm sorry I took me this long to answer this

[chemzee]

Melissa 37, 40, 68, 69

37. How easy is it for them to say “I love you”? Do they say it without meaning it?

She doesn't say these words sincerely often because there's barely anyone she actually loves enough to say that to them. Willow, until the breakup, was the exception, but I kinda like to think of Melissa being a bit too nervous to say these words to her as much as she wished she could bc she's a cringefail lesbian disaster with unhealthy childhood crush.

After the breakup, while she still loved Willow deep down, but she would often use these words as part of her mockery, to add salt to the wound she deliberately kept cutting open all over again (but there were also rare moments of genuine affection from Melissa that were rather confusing to Willow. These being a resul of her emotional instability).

40. Who do they trust most? Is that trust mutual?

Before Y3, Willow was her only friend and with that, only person she genuinely trusted, the feeling being mutual. It was them two against the world.

She has issues with trusting others in general because of the way she had grown up and that makes the ability to form new connections/friendships even more difficult to her, so she never formed any other significant connection, let alone found someone else she could trust.

After the breakup, she didn't trust anyone.

68 + 69. How did their environment growing up affect their personality? How did the people in their environment growing up affect their personality?

Welp, none of the things that happened would've happened if it wasn't for how Melissa had grown up. For the most part, she's a product of her hostile environment.

Economical problems her family suffered made both of her parents neglectful and emotionally unavailable, which resulted in the little Lisa developing abandonment and trust issues, as well as made her more aggressive and unable to find healthy ways to deal with her emotions (which she carried up to her teenagehood, her becoming a bully is a direct result of never learning how to handle and cope in a healthy manner).

She was a trouble child in school, often getting into fights and teachers never really looked into a root of her problems, not being there for her either. She also is a muggleborn (or a half blood but doesn't know bc her parents just. Barely ever talk to her), so that also contributed to her feeling of isolation when she found out she can do magic. Willow was one of the few positive influences in her life and I think it's thanks to her that Melissa had become much less prone to starting fights or acting out on impulse, well, in public that is. And I'd also say same goes for her hygiene. But Willow being her only positive connection made her too attached to her, afraid of losing her so bad she was willing to do everything to keep her, even if it meant manipulating and hurting her. And we all know how it ended.

[soulnb42]

Times Like These (part 3)

AO3

Part 3

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything… but, you’d think they could afford slightly better places,” Ava mused aloud, looking around and taking in their new space.

“We’re meant to lay low. A luxurious loft or the penthouse suite of a five stars hotel don’t exactly spell ‘incognito’,” Beatrice pointed out as she moved around the small apartment.

Beatrice had been given money, passports, some weapons and gears they might need. She had been presented with a map showing the locations of the different hideouts owned by the OCS. The plan was for her to choose one for her and Ava without telling anyone which one she’d pick. The less people know where they were the better.

She had chosen one in Switzerland, and she had memorized the coordinates of five other places just in case they had to be on the move quickly.

They had left the last convent in Italy right before dawn, escorted by a small team. After an hour they had parted ways with them. She hadn��t taken the most direct road to their destination, instead she had taken several detours for the first hour just to make sure they weren’t followed. Once she had been satisfied that they had had no tails, she had settled on their journey.

“Fair point,” Ava conceded with a tilt of her head. “I like the décor… who knew beige could pop?”

Beatrice grinned with amusement. For the first time since what seemed like ages ago, she felt like they were back to normal with Ava being a smartass any chance she could get.

The apartment was small, cosy. One kitchen, one bathroom, one water closet, one living room slash bedroom…and now they were both staring at the one elephant in said living room: the bed.

The only bed.

“I’ll… take the couch,” Beatrice announced after a long silence.

“There’s no need… I mean, it’s big enough for the both of us.”

“Yeah well… my experiences sharing a bed have been painful. Lilith elbowed me in the face and Camilla almost smothered me with crocodile death rolls.”

While both incidents were true, if Beatrice was honest, the reason behind her reticence to share a bed with Ava had more to do with the fact that proximity to Ava tended to stir things in her she’d rather not think about.

“Crocodile what?” Ava chortled with a frown.

“Crocodile death rolls, aggressively tossing and turning in one’s bed.”

“Is that really what the dictionary says?”

“I don’t know about the dictionary, but that’s my definition,” Beatrice pointed out.

“Well, I've learnt something new today.”

Beatrice dropped the bags she was holding in the corner of the room, then extracted a tablet from one of them. Ava sat next to her and silently watched. While she was still new at using technology, she had a deep understanding of it, after all, being paralyzed for over a decade meant her mind was the only muscle she had been able to work on and developed to her liking.

It barely took a couple of seconds to figure that Beatrice was using and encrypted interface. After a couple of minutes, Beatrice put the tablet down. “I’ve sent a message to the HQ, they’ll reach us when they can,” she explained.

At her words, the anxiety Ava had managed to tamp down resurfaced. She briefly hesitated but then voiced her mind. “What’s the plan?”

Beatrice took a deep breath. She thought about all the meetings she had had with the rest of the OCS. They were in an unprecedented situation. They were also in the dark as to what they were facing, which meant they didn’t have any real plan.

The only certainty they had right now was that at some point they would face Adriel once more.

“We have to lay low. That part means we’ll have to find jobs to provide for…”

“Jobs… just how long are we supposed to stay here?” Ava rose from the couch and started to pace.

“I don’t know, Ava,” Beatrice said calmly. “To be perfectly honest, there’s very little anyone know. As of right now, for us, the plan is to lay low, keep you safe, train you and wait for further directives.”

Ava stopped her pacing and looked at Beatrice. “…train.”

“Yes.” Beatrice could feel Ava’s dread, unfortunately her next words were not reassuring at all, so she softened her voice in an attempt to keep Ava calm. “There’s no telling when, but facing Adriel again is inevitable. Running away won’t be an option the second time around, so we have to make sure you’re ready. And…”

The air seemed heavier to Ava. She could barely breathe; she felt some invisible force coiling around her and slowly constricting her whole body. She didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to fight, she didn’t want to face Adriel again.

She couldn’t…

That thing Adriel did to her when she was in the tomb… she couldn’t face him again, no amount of training would help her. She was going to die… that was it…

She hadn’t signed for this, this was not her life… she… couldn’t… she didn’t want to die… this wasn’t her fight, this wasn’t…

Beatrice watched in horror as Ava mentally spiralled down. She was heaving now and Beatrice was afraid she might pass out soon. In a second, Beatrice stood up in front of Ava, grabbed her face to force her attention back on her.

“Ava, look at me…breathe.”

Try as she might, Ava couldn’t suck in oxygen.

“Breathe,” Beatrice said again. “In and out… slowly.”

Ava forced herself to focus on Beatrice and match her breathing.

“That’s it…in… and out…”

If her breathing was back under control, the fear was still burning through every inch of her body.

“Listen… I know this is a lot,” Beatrice spoke softly. “And I know you’re scared, but we’ll figure things out and I won’t let anything happen to you, you hear me?”

Ava searched Beatrice’s eyes, she saw no doubt, no hesitation, only certainty. “Ava, you have my word. I won’t leave your side or let you get hurt… I promise.”

Part of her kept thinking that Beatrice was making a promise she wouldn’t be able to keep, because she didn’t know what Adriel was capable of. The other part of her was reassured though, for she knew that Beatrice would keep her word no matter what, even if she failed in the end.

Ava believed Beatrice, more importantly she trusted her. She was still scared out of her mind, but she wasn’t alone. She had Beatrice and Beatrice had her back. As long as that statement was true, things would be okay.

“I promise,” Beatrice repeated once more.

Ava gave a feeble nod. “Okay.”

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Thanks for reading