#like that has to be an insult right? or at least a tragedy?

[creative-clawmarks]

"I didn't want to get Jessica involved, that's why I told her I found Amy! That's YOUR fault!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

KO-FI

[kiss-inthekitchen]

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.” 

“Yeah.” 

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 

“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 

“Spence?” 

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 

“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 

“Man, I’m good.” 

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 

You laugh. “For the whole day?” 

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 

“Okay, rest day all day.” 

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 

“Maybe the floor.” 

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 

“Say no more.” 

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 

You let out a little gremlin laugh. 

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.” 

“We did.” 

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 

[slasherscream]

Wash Day

pairing:  jordan li x fem black!reader

"You wanna go out to dinner tonight? Know I've been busy this week. Feel like I've barely seen you." Jordan mutters against the shell of your ear. You shiver as he gives the skin a teasing kiss.

Already you're pouting, knowing what your answer has to be even though you wish so desperately that you could give a different response. "Wish I could, Jordan. But my night is already spoken for."

You're spun around by a hand on your hip, playful and fast so that you can't stop yourself from falling into his chest. Your hands grip his jacket for balance, and he reaches up to hold one of them with his own. "You got plans? With who? Cate? Cancel them."

"Brat." You laugh.

How demanding Jordan is would be less cute if they ever asked you to do something they themselves wouldn't. As it stands, with the way they do anything you ask at the drop of a hat, all you can do is roll your eyes and pretend to be exasperated instead of smitten.

"Fine, don't cancel. I'll just come with." Jordan sighs, as if seeing his best friend is a great tragedy (Which it is. Cate being there means you'll smack Jordan's hand away when he tries to sneak it up your skirt at dinner.)

"What if we want a girls' night?" You shoot back, grinning.

Jordan shifts. The hands on your waist are smaller now, but pull you in closer, "You're the one who's feeling bratty. Really have been neglecting you this week, huh baby?" Jordan smirks, in that condescending way she does when she realizes you're trying to get a certain reaction out of her.

"The plans aren't with Cate, and they aren't cancellable." You sigh, deciding not to rise to the bait of her tone, smirk, or the little circles she's rubbing into your skin.

"What are these oh so important plans?" Jordan asks.

"Do you know how many white boys have complimented my hair today, Jordan?" You ask.

"Pardon?" Jordan blinks at what seems to be a completely unrelated topic.

"Six! Six white boys complimented my braids today. I'm about to kill myself, if we're being honest. I must looked fucked up, and you didn't even say anything." You pout.

You've been having a bit of a rough day, to say the least.

"You look beautiful. What are you talking about?" Jordan asks, confused but nonetheless, wanting to make you feel better. "If you didn't look good I'd very politely... have Cate tell you. But you look great! You've been getting compliments all day, you just said it yourself!"

"Wow, you'd throw Cate under the bus, huh coward?"

"Cate isn't interested in making out with you every spare second of the day. I am. You can be mad at her. I've got stuff I wanna do." Jordan's grin is downright salacious. You smack her arm, trying not to smile.

"Ah. You are operating under the same delusions of the white man. I see that now, I'll let go of the anger." You say, sighing and kissing Jordan on the cheek.

"First of all, don't you ever fucking insult me like that again.... Second of all, what particular delusion am I sharing with the white man?" Jordan asks.

"White men only compliment a black woman's hairstyle at two points in time. When it's brand spanking, fresh off the lot new. Or when it's started to look like shit. I've had these braids in for longer than... is your business. So guess which compliment I'm getting right now?"

"I fucking refuse to say your hair looks like shit, and this conversation feels like a trap. You're always beautiful to me." Jordan says.

"Thank you, baby. But we live on a campus where the diversity win photographers lurk around every corner trying to get pictures of 'The Diversity Win Couple' in our most natural state. I need to take out my braids tonight before I talk crazy in the group chat, and Andre sends me a 'this you?' pic that will devastate my argument." You shake your head somberly, already imagining the fate that lies before you.

"You could stop talking crazy in the group chat." Jordan teases.

"You know damn well I'm not capable of that."

The two of you burst into laughter, unable to keep it together. Jordan has always been obsessed with how easy it is for you to make them laugh.

"Is that gonna take up your whole night, though, baby? We don't have to go to dinner early! We'll go wherever you want." Jordan insists, tone bordering on begging.

Whenever they come out of a particularly busy week, they spend the next two weeks glued to you. As if to make up for it. The clinginess is a stark difference from how they acted before you made things official.

"Jordan, look at the braids on my head."

"I'm looking at them."

"Are you seeing them with your eyes?"

"Yes, and my eyes are sending the image to my brain, which I assure you is working. What's your point here, baby?"

"How long do you think it will take me to undo these, detangle my hair, wash it, deep condition it, and then wash it again?"

Jordan squints at you for a long moment, analyzing your hairstyle and the utter displeasure on your face. "I dunno? Maybe... four hours?"

"I should fucking murder you. Just for that, you're helping me with wash day now."

Jordan's face breaks into a grin like sunlight breaking through clouds, "So I do get to spend the day with you, is what you're saying?"

"Yeah, baby, you get to spend the day with me." You click your tongue at them. Pitying them for the ache in their fingers they're about to feel. They complain about curling their God damn hair a couple of times a week. You suspect you'll be ready to kill one another by hour two.

But you also missed them a lot. Or whatever.

"Don't cut too high up, Jordie. " You whine, shifting his grip lower on your braid, to an acceptable cutting length of the hair extension.

"Baby... can I ask you a very serious question right now?" Jordan hums, obediently cutting where you instructed.

"What?" You ask, already starting to unbraid the piece.

"How... long... do you think your hair is?" Jordan, to be fair to him, does ask the question quietly and with the proper amount of hesitation.

"How dare you! Are you calling me bald?" You gasp, stifling a laugh.

"Don't do this to me. You are prolonging the process. We can cut these braids at least four inches higher than what we're doing right now." Jordan says, you can't see his face but you can tell he's also trying not to laugh. Bastard.

"My hair grew!"

"From the top of your head. It did not magically lower itself further into the fucking braid extension." Jordan loses the battle and laughs.

"Jordan Li do not fucking cut off any of my hair or I'll cry and then blow up this school."

"Of course, princess." Jordan kisses the top of your head and gives in to your terrorist demands because you're cute.

"So how am I supposed to do it, baby?" Jordan claps her hands and you smile at how eager she sounds to help.

"You're gonna want to section it off. Do like... eight parts of hair. That'll make literally every step after this easier. Then you're gonna comb the hair from the bottom, 'kay?"

"Got it."

Jordan starts the process of parting your hair, careful and slow. Fingers sectioning off eight chunks of hair that she keeps apart with the silky hair ties you hand her over your shoulder.

"You sure you don't want me to comb it, Jordie?" You ask Jordan.

"I'll be gentle, don't worry. You always say your shoulders hurt at the end of wash day. Which is crazy, because I've seen what you can bench. I've got you, baby." She spritzes extra detangler spray on each of the parts she just made.

You move around slightly, a little sore already from sitting still between her legs for so long, but smiling to yourself nonetheless. A pillow is suddenly shoved into your face and you lean away, confused.

"Sit on this one instead. It'll be better." Jordan says.

You switch out the pillows and tilt your head back to look at her. "Why're you always right? Is that your kink?"

"No, my kink is bossing you around." Jordan smirks and leans down to give you a kiss. Despite the awkward angle you can't help trying to deepen the contact. The feeling of her soft lips sliding against yours, firm but gentle, is always irresistible.

She hums and gives you a playful nip before pulling away. "Don't start something we can't finish."

"Who says we can't?" You shoot back, staring up at her.

"You will be pissed an hour from now if you glance at your phone and we haven't made any progress." Jordan runs her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing your head forward.

"Who says it will take an hour?"

"I do. If we start, I'm not stopping." Jordan's voice dips seductively and a line of tension runs up the length of your spine.

You smack her thigh for teasing you, "Shut up."

"Is this comfortable?" Jordan frowns, staring at the angle your head has to be at to fit in the bowl of the sink.

"No, but this is the best angle this chair can get me to." You say. Usually you just wash in the shower, but since Jordan is helping the sink makes more sense.

Jordan stands, scowling at how uncomfortable you seem. Suddenly he grins, "Baby! Make a chair with your shields. Something that leans."

You were getting a lot better with being able to make complex shapes, with less concentration. You stand up from the chair you'd dragged from the common room. Jordan pulls it out of the way and gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

It takes you a minute, but you conjure a shield that resembles a salon chair and the both of you let out identical cries of delight.

Jordan pushes you to sit down with a kiss on your forehead. "That's my fucking girl. Tell me if the temperature is too hot."

Jordan washes your hair with the perfect amount of pressure and thoroughness. He's nearly rhythmic in his methodical cleaning. You didn't realize your eyes had fluttered closed until you hear him laugh. You open one eye to glare at him playfully, knowing he won't get soap in them.

"What's so funny?"

"You're like a cat. You gonna purr for me, baby?" He smirks.

"If you keep going like that, yeah. Or I'll fall asleep. Please don't make me fall asleep. I'll fall on my ass." You say.

"I'll endeavor to make the rest of the wash as unpleasant as possible."

He does not do that. And at one point you do fall asleep. Jordan catches you before you can actually fall. 'Thank God for Supe reflexes', you both think. You spend the rest of the wash with your eyes wide open and Jordan laughing at you.

"Did we put too much?" Jordan asks, dabbing at another drip of oil and conditioner down your brow.

"No, this is typical. The hair has to be saturated. It's dripping because the oil is you know... getting hot and even more liquid-y." You say, eyeing the episode of Property Brother's you'd both decided on. "Hm. I think that woman should be put to death."

Jordan was keeping vigilant about dabbing at the sides of your face. You'd been in charge of one side, at first. But Jordan seemed to have a sixth sense for when the other side was dripping as well, and kept interrupting you before you could get to any trickles of oil. You'd given up and just started narrating the show for her as she wasn't taking her eyes off the line of your brow.

"Why? What did she do?" Jordan dabs again.

"She wants to put up a fence that blocks the view of the historical house that she did not have to buy if she wanted a fence so bad." You roll your eyes.

"Is the city gonna let her?"

"No."

"Haha. 500k down the drain." Jordan cackles.

"Anti-gentrification win!" You hold out your fist for a fist-bump and Jordan obediently obliges, oil soaked rag still held in her fist.

A comfortable silence falls over you two, besides the noise of the portable hair dryer.

"I really think we put too much, baby." Jordan mutters, dabbing again.

"I have been doing this since I was twelve, Jordan!"

"Play the video again, one speed slower this time." Jordan's eyes are glued to your phone.

You're sitting between his legs again, cushioned by the (superior) pillow of his choosing. You were trying to decide on a simple hair style when Jordan saw a picture of Mini Twists and got excited to see you in them.

("You've already seen me in mini twists, Jordie. What are you talking about?"

"You weren't my girlfriend the last time you wore them though! Now you are, and I get to look at you as much as I want."

So that had decided that.)

"Okay, I think I got it. 'M gonna start with a braid base, without making the parts too big, then start twisting the hair with two strands, and that will make it last longer, right?"

"Right." You smile at how focused Jordan sounds.

They're hot when they're in the zone. You just didn't think they'd get so into helping you with your hair. But you should have known, really. Acts of service paired with their inner perfectionist? You're completely relaxed at this point. You know Jordan won't have you walking out of your room looking crazy, come hell or high water.

"Is this okay?" Jordan shows you a picture of the back of your head, three rows of twists done.

You gasp, snatching the phone, "That's my head?"

"Uh... yes?" Jordan answers slowly.

"The back of my head? The head on my body?"

"Should I start over?"

"Fuck you! These are almost better than mine. Who's hair are you playing around in when I'm not here, Jordan LI?"

"Stop using my fucking government name." Jordan tilts your head back to look at him with a gentle grip on your neck, grinning down at you. "You play too fucking much. You sure they're good, princess? It's okay if I need to redo them."

"I'm gonna give you orgasms that will make you lose brain cells."

"Baby!" Jordan laughs, rolling his eyes. "I'm serious. Do any of them need redoing?"

"The first row is really fucking good for a beginner but the second row is damn near perfect." You say.

"I'll redo the first row then." Jordan kisses your temple before moving you to face forward again.

"I said they were good!" You protest.

"But the second row is better. I want the whole thing to look good. Don't want you feeling self conscious cause I fucked up the style, y'know." Jordan mumbles.

You tilt your head back to look at him, ignoring him sucking his teeth (a habit he picked up from you) at you moving.

"I love you, Jordie. Thank you for helping me today." You coo.

You watch his face go red with a grin. He grins back, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. When he tries to pull away too soon you whine, holding him close by the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Wanna kiss you. You're sweet." You breathe the words against his lips, insistently continuing the caress.

He sighs, smitten, and let's you lead for a moment. Hand finding it's way back to your neck and tightening just enough to make you gasp. Still, he pulls away too quickly.

"I'm gonna fuck you up." You scowl at him.

"The only thing you're gonna fuck up is your neck, brat. This is a horrible angle for you." Jordan's smile is so soft at the edges it's your turn to blush.

"Speak for yourself."

"No, I'm too busy speaking on behalf of your neck."

"Well, I'm speaking on behalf of my-"

"Pussy?"

"I was going to say raging hormones but that's a lot more to the point, yeah. Or maybe I was going to say something romantic. You ever think of that, Jordie? Huh?"

"Were you going to say something romantic?" Jordan hums.

"No."

"Let me do your hair in peace." Jordan turns you forward again with a laugh.

"Turn this way." Jordan instructs, snapping another picture.

"I don't know whether you're worse than an Instagram hair stylist or a Mom." You ponder, words barely audible because your girlfriend is scary.

"Shut up and smile." Jordan scowls.

As if engraved into your genetic code the words make you do just that. You suffer through another 20 pictures being taken before you say enough is enough.

Jordan happily shows you the pictures, as if you hadn't seen yourself in the mirror just a minute ago. Or ever. The grin on her face so wide it looks like it hurts.

"You like it, baby?" Jordan asks again.

"It looks so good, Jordie. It looks like I paid someone honestly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You drape your arms around her shoulders. "How's this angle?"

"For what?" Jordan tilts her head to the side, puzzled.

"For kissing. Since you were so worried about the angle before."

Jordan scoffs, but she's the one to pull you in. She doesn't pull away this time.

A/N: i needed reader to have a goofball vibe because i have a goofball vibe. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anonymous ask saying you enjoyed it! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[halitis]

do i have anything anything against jason as a character? no. i actually like him quite a bit! i think hes really interesting!

BUT DO I THINK SOME JASON FANS ARE FUCKING DUMB AS FUCK?!?? YES BITCH WHAT THE FUCK?

im gonna go through all the shit wrong with this comment thread one by one because jesus fucking CHRIST!!!!

1. "that thing" first of all. What. she is literally just a evil-aligned poc woman. she has been raised in this environment and as a result of that this is really the only life available for her and thats the tragedy of her character!

2. "why did she get with roy" THEY ARE FUCKING SOULMATES. THEIR ENTIRE THING IS THE INHERENT LOVE THEY SHARE FOR EACH OTHER WHILE ALSO VALUING THEIR MORALS ABOVE EACH OTHER. IT IS THE COMPLEXITY OF RAISING A CHILD TOGETHER AND ALSO TRYING TO FIND MIDDLE GROUND. IT IS BEGGINT THE OTHER TO CHANGE AND KNOWING THEY WONT.

3. "MY BABY JASON" YOU CANNOT SAY THAT AFTER YOU JUST INSULTED JADE.... LITTERALLY CANNOT. the biggest fucking hypocrytical statement i have ever fucking heard!!! bro!!! jason is Nawt a good person! he just flat out isnt! he has done so much horrid shit, not just to his familt, but to roy's family too. like he is not ur sweet innocent traumatised boy, he is a fucked up grown ass man who was hurt and decided to take that pain out on others. he is no fucking different from jade except he thinks hes doing rhe right thing, at least jade knows she isnt

4. "lian baby mama is jason now" ive talked abt this before, but sexism in fandom spaces when it comes to mlm ships is so fucking common it is fucking absurd. why are women only used as babymakers for ur gay characters?? why can they not be complex characters while men can???? it is fucking absurd how common it is in dc fandom and i frankly dont know why im shocked by it! women are regressed to one of three roles: evil villain who abused male love interest, baby maker, BAMF with no complexity or character at all and it is honestly so fucking tiring and just, boring to read??? like how do you not just hate it??????

5. "unemployed" honestly. i have no words. all im saying is it is No Fucking Shock that the woc is being pushed into these awful stereotypes.

now we are up to the worst part. the final comment...

6. "how are you gonna sleep with my man" ROY LEFT JADE. NOT THE OTHER WAY ROUND. roy was on an undercover mission and fell in love with jade and got her pregnant! he left because he would not be able to arrest her!!! all she fucking knew was one of the first people she truly ever loved had fucking gotten her to trust him and then left her, she had to deal with that pregnancy BY HERSELF. SHE LITTERALLY SAYS SHE SPENT THE ENTIRE PREGNANCY WAITING FOR ROY TO COME BACK TO HER, AND SHE WASNT EVEN MAD SHE STILL LOVED HIM.... she didn't even realise his identity for years!

also why is it always the woman's fucking fault if she gets pregnant? it takes two to tango! roy is as equally responsible for that pregnancy as jade is!

7. "AND THEN LEAVE YOUR KID" OH MY GOD.... [EXPLODES YOU WITH MY MIND] JADE. CANNOT. LEAVE. THE LEAGUE. BUT SHE DOES NOT WANT TO RAISE A FUCKINF CHILD THERE BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT ITS LIKE!! SHES BEEN THAT KID!! jade knows fucking better then to delude herself into thinking she can raise lian safely while still stuck in her life, but lian is her number one priority always!! forever!! she pushes roy and lian away because she knows she is dangerous for them and because she thinks she doesnt deserve to have them and that love in her life!!!

8. "lian should be embarrassed to have her as her mum" i actually fucking wish nothing but hell upon you. have you not fucking read. just a single thing in ur life actually? just like actually can you read??? because i have met TODDLERS with better media literacy than you. LIAN HAS ISSUES WITH HER MOTHER. THIS WAS A BIG PART OF HER STINT AS SHOES. SHE IS DEALING WITH THE COMPLEXITIES OF LOVING HER MOTHER, THE WOMAN WHO LOVES HER AND CARES FOR HER, WHILE ALSO ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT SHE ISNT A GREAT MUM.

im sorry this is so messy and has so much shouting it actually has me fuming when people r so fucking stupid, idc if you dont like a character but dont just ignore all the bits of a characyer that make them redeemable or interesting to prop up ur male blorbos????

[stainedglassthreads]

I feel like the four leads of Deltarune--Kris, Susie, Ralsei, and Noelle-are just. Somehow two different levels of queer-coded.

(Edit: Just to be clear: not saying any of this to disparage or insult shippers of Kralsei, Suselle, or Kriselle, I've just seen a lot of cool analysis about tropes, romance, and lack of choice in Deltarune and wanted to chime in with some of my own thoughts. If you ship any of those ships in Deltarune--fantastic! May you find a lot of content precisely to your taste.)

Like. On the one hand, if you're looking at tropes, they are very neatly set up into two romantic partnerships. Noelle is very blatantly interested in Susie, and Ralsei's feelings for Kris are often portrayed similarly. On a surface level, both pairings appear very clear. Noelle is a girl in love with another girl, while Ralsei is a very effeminate boy in love with a teen who doesn't appear to use pronouns. And a big deal isn't made of either pairing, there's nothing really in the way of Suselle or Kralsei on a societal level we've encountered so far. At least in terms of gender and sexuality. But if you look a little closer, it's kind of...'these are a very straight idea of queer ships', y'know?

Noelle and Susie are both girls, but one is very effeminately coded, anxious, uses magic, and is more traditionally cute, while they other is crass, crude, intimidating, and physically strong. Ralsei and Kris are gender-noncomforming, but Ralsei is a sweet pacifistic healer who bakes cakes while Kris uses a sword, and keeps being mistaken for a boy by much of Youtube and Reddit. The active one and the passive one, the fighter and the mage, the one with cute hobbies and the one who eats moss, the one in pants and the one in a dress.

And here, I start thinking of some posts I've seen analyzing how, in Deltarune, romance is used to explore how Kris doesn't really get choices. Kris has been cast as the leader and knight, and Ralsei has been cast as the healer and Princess, even if he is a boy. The leader often ends up with the healer. The knight often gets the princess as a happy ending. But Kris doesn't seem to like this! Their reactions to Ralsei are constantly lukewarm at best, and that's not getting into how Ralsei seems to be in love with his idea of Kris, while being very. Asriel-coded, who the game describes often as Kris' brother, in sharp contrast to how ambiguous Chara and Frisk's relationships with the Dreemurrs were.

If we and Kris reject Ralsei as a love interest, we can a different romantic partner in Noelle...but this choice has a bodycount, traumatizes Noelle, doesn't seem to leave Kris any happier, and it's still a kind of straight-coded ship. Now it's the knight being paired up with the apocalypse maiden, for the doomed codepedent toxic tragedy lovers out there. But it kinda makes sense too, right? If Kralsei is the expected RPG romance, then Kriselle would be the expected romance if there were no Dark World and Ralsei weren't an option. They're childhood friends and neighbors in a small town, their families used to be very close, Rudy is still very fond of Kris. They're even extremely angel/devil coded.

But the most interesting part is. It's implied that there IS someone that Kris is very interested in, either platonically or romantically. It's Susie. Kris never seems frightened by Susie when they're bullied by her, and rejects Noelle's offers to switch seats. They seek comfort from Susie rather than Ralsei after the Spamton fight, they call her their friend when Toriel calls, they share moss with her, they refuse to think about her during Snowgrave when Ralsei prompts them, they make it clear that out of all the people they COULD go to the Carnival with, Susie is the one they'd ACTUALLY want to choose.

And this is the part that drives me crazy. Because while Kris is so tightly controlled by genre and narrative, and those things would usually push them towards Ralsei or Noelle, and Ralsei keeps encouraging Kris to stick to the narrative. Susie is the one who refuses to be bound to the narrative. Susie is the character of Deltarune who is most unapologetically herself--and isn't that a very queer thing, refusing to be anyone but yourself despite everything? She says no thanks to the prophecy, until she comes around to it on her own terms! She makes herself and Ralsei learn to take their own actions, and drags Ralsei off to have fun with him instead of letting Kris choose who to with! She doesn't stay in her box of the damage-dealing fighter, she insists on learning Healing magic, even if she's not particularly skilled at it at first! Even Ralsei is forced to admit that it's wonderful that Susie is Susie, and not anyone else!

I think Kris likes Susie a lot. And part of it may be admiration. That while Kris is controlled by the player and the narrative and the prophecy and humanity and divorce and a dozen things outside their control, Susie refuses to ever be bound by anything. And Kris and Susie together happen to be the two more masculinely-coded party members, the two melee fighters, the two troublemakers. It honestly makes me wonder a little if Susie and Kris might be able to make their own ending beyond the bounds of gender expectations and romance expectations together? It would be cool. And I think it would make Kris very happy to break free like that.

[amerricanartwork]

Fat-Shaming

Technically, Pebbles is right here, but I think it's about time he got a taste of his own medicine!

This is technically the first true comic strip I've done... ever, it seems! I've had it in the works for at least a week, and I'm really enjoying how it turned out! It was inspired by a Reddit post I found comparing these two characters, and this silly scene just popped in my head as a result, since that part of the Gourmand campaign where Pebbles makes little side-insults about your weight will never not be amusing to me. Probably requires more context to get than the previous, but I hope you still found it funny!

Also, a headcanon of sorts below, if you want some more serious ideas:

I like the idea that Five Pebbles has a particular disdain for Gourmand, not just because he's the polar opposite in many ways, but because Gourmand represents everything Five Pebbles and the Ancients sought to overcome: indulgence, attachment to the pleasures of life, attachment to family, having low aspirations, accepting your place in life, accepting life in general the way it is.

I also like to think part of it comes from jealousy — this fat, lazy animal barely scratching the surface of civilization is both able to enjoy all the pleasures of life AND ascend whenever he wants, meanwhile the near-godlike supercomputer far more intelligent than this creature could even hope to fathom in a century is stuck just standing there, abandoned by his creators, trying to solve an unsolvable problem while he literally rots away? He'll hardly admit it, but it really does feel quite unfair, if you ask him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I'm curious to see how my ideas for Five Pebbles evolve over time. As of now, I actually have like, half the campaigns to finish still (did Survivor and Monk, and just about to complete my Gourmand run), so my ideas of his character may not be the most accurate right now. From the glimpses I've gained through fanart and such, there seems to be so much more to the story of the Ancients and their iterators, and it's tragic at that. Needless to say, though I usually don't like tragedy, I'm very curious to see the rest of that story...

[eastern-lights]

The real tragedy of Vivienne, at least for me, is how utterly impossible for her it is for her to just fit in with the rest of the companions. And I don't mean that in the sense of sacrificing individuality or goals, but rather in building relationships with the rest.

You never get the sense that she's developed a genuine friendship with any of these people, the Inquisitor included.

And this is the same crazy bunch of assholes that potentially adopted a fade spirit and turned a homicidal god into their weird but alright apostate bestie (as the Inquisitor may put it in Trespasser "Whatever else he may be, Solas is one of us").

You don't get that with Viv. In a brilliant showcase of writing ability, the staff at BioWare managed to make every single piece of banter she has with the others convey either aloofness and calculation or, more importantly, genuine affection intentionally stifled and hidden under several layers of snark and eloquent insults. She would rather be feared than loved and much rather respected than liked.

And every time it starts looking like we are starting to see the real Vivienne, like when we convey our condolences for Bastien's death... she just always goes right back behind her mask. Which is both immensely sad and incredibly frustrating.

If I made a strict tier list of my favourite DAI companions, she would probably be at the bottom. Not because she is a bad character or even a bad person, but for the amount of frustration she instilled in a player (and Inquisitor) who really, really wanted to like her and she just never let them.

[usedtobethelegendcreator]

Lucifer is a horrible king.

Yeah, I said it. And I’m gonna tell you why.

I get that people really like the depressed, duck-obsessed father, but they consistently let that overshadow what he has (or, rather, hasn’t) been doing.

First of all, Dad Beat Dad.

I see post after post about how Alastor is too arrogant for his own good, and I will definitely get to that later, but think about it.

Lucifer, the King of Hell, has never heard of Alastor. Alastor, the Radio Demon. Y’know. The guy that went on an Overlord killing spree? The guy that lives in the Pride Ring, and is therefore Lucifer’s direct subject? The guy that Lucifer only considers a threat when he starts getting jealous of *checks notes* a bellhop’s supposed relationship with his daughter?

If anyone should know who Alastor is, it should be Lucifer. And the fact that he doesn’t is revealing.

Let me put it this way: imagine you’re a king. One day, this mysterious dude starts killing off your local government. Keeping an eye on this dude should be a priority for you, right? It should at least be a mild concern. But no, only when the consequences of your actions—oh, sorry—when your daughter starts seeing this mysterious dude as a father figure do you care.

Lucifer, King of Hell, has never heard of the Radio Demon. And if he ignored that, what else was he ignoring?

Oh, right. The eternal suffering and misery of his subjects. Almost forgot.

And sinners aren’t his only subjects. What about the Hellborn? What about the imps and the hellhounds?

He’s doing nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Sure, Lucifer is depressed. He still has a fucking kingdom to take care of. A kingdom he has been completely ignoring in favor of…making rubber ducks.

And Charlie says, in Dad Beat Dad, that he allowed the exterminations to happen.

Let me rephrase: he allowed annual slaughters.

The only people he asked to be spared were the Hellborn. Oh, look at that. He did something. Shocker.

No wonder Lilith left him.

Oh, and have I mentioned how genuinely pathetic his beef with Alastor is yet? Yes? Well, I’m not done.

After rewatching (and rewatching, and rewatching…) the scene where he meets Alastor, guess what?

Lucifer threw the first metaphorical punch. At himself. In front of his subjects and his daughter.

He doesn’t know who Alastor is.

And Alastor, who clearly knows who Lucifer is, gets way too much criticism for his reaction.

Oh no, a short joke. Who knew that the 10000+ year old King of Hell could be felled by a short joke?

And when Alastor essentially gives him a second chance to recognize him—“You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast!”—Lucifer responds by insulting him.

Oh, and as a side note, he only said the name was clever when he thought it was Charlie’s idea. Which calls into question how genuine his initial statement was.

And, okay. Regardless of if Alastor was bullshitting being a father figure or not, Lucifer had it coming.

Oh no, the archangel was an absent father, and now a male sinner is being *checks notes again* supportive of his daughter. Oh, the outrage. What a tragedy. Can you hear the fucking sarcasm in my voice.

It’s pathetic. It’s so pathetic.

Lucifer needed a wake-up call—hey, your relationship with your daughter doesn’t even exist anymore, maybe you should step up and do something—and Alastor gave it to him.

Sorry if this sounds bitter. I am.

[tsbs-shipfessions]

Ship confessions?

S..Safe place to share rants?

Oh dear how should I say this...

(Warning for anyone not supporting SolarNexus I guess..)

As much as I like the story of how New Moon went deranged from grief and self deterioration: as in finally realising he can never satisfy this "family's" need of him to be thee og Moon himself. A carbon copy replacement with unrealistic expectations set at full high. (Even though factually thanks to Eclipses V1-4 transitions it's shown that it can't possibly be 100% accurate.) Failing again and again over and over till the event of Solar's death finally snapping him. Derailing himself to push everyone away to the point of losing himself entirely as Nexus.

And Solar valuing New Moon so much that he was in absolute distraught when the first thing he hears upon waking was that his best friend, HIS REASON OF HOME, lost himself so far in the name of lone desperation. A desperation he knows all too well thanks to his past Moon's ungracious reaction to unfortunate loss.

Solar knows what it's like to be alone and afraid. He can't possibly leave Nexus like the others like the flip of the switch! Because just as he gave mercy to Eclipse and Ruin, he'd give mercy to Nexus too.

The canon doesn't make any sense!

And, well, being a silent (yet intimidated from this fandom) supporter of SolarNexus...

The angst writer side of me wishes that this story didn't clap off to the cliche "power hungry" complex.

Why not have Solar continue to drive himself to find some cure or solution? In the name of friendship; to justify himself that he can fix it all before it's too late. To not lose another from his (falsely blamed and uncontrolled) faults. To be the reassurance of comfort Nexus so desperately needed.

Why not have Nexus secretly die inside whenever he speaks the words he does not mean; unwillingly pushing himself to the edge every time he starts to believe hope can be retrieved. Falling in the spiral that nothing is real and he has no right to feel and express. The moment Nexus felt like grasping on light is when strings of dark pull him to a choke to remind just exactly who he's working with. Why he even decided to make a deal with DarkSun. That no matter how Nexus puts it, he technically is a husk for dark star power. An element. Like a living battery for some bigger project he may not be entirely aware of. (And my best guess: a tragic death to Dark Sun's intricate plans.)

A reminder so cruel and twisted that Nexus can't possibly see a way out without Solar's guidance and safety.

Life was never fair for the both of them. They both suffered at being blamed and antagonised for things they had no proper control over. They both had self doubts and a sense that they were never home.

(For f--k's sake! Nexus was LOSING HIS MIND!! CRITICAL DANGER OF WELL BEING, and the "family" decided: Hey! Instead of actually getting him proper treatment, lets just lock him in a cell and keep calling him a villain for insulting people! An action he had no say over because HAHA he LoSt hIs mInD. Wha- eH- HUUEUUH???? NnNO???)

But ey! They were Home for each other.

That's why Solar and NM/Nexus's friendship worked so well! They had a sense of comfort to speak and express openly, to have negativity or concerns spill out without backlash. To actually live freely knowing they have each others back!

And I'd like to believe they'd still ache to have this connection again. That Solar would do whatever it takes to have Nexus free from his chains.

Not to be welcomed by the "family", but to be welcomed by Solar's own loving arms. To get proper care, proper help, proper recognition of all parts of Nexus. Both good and bad.

I really think there's tragedy love potential here. I wished to see them fight whatever forces against them to be together again. To get at least that ounce of safety within the chaos.

Whether it's fighting mental illness or dark star power. Who cares! They gonna be together again dAhM iT! Even if it's just a minute before tragic death from DarkSun or somethin! T-T

*COUGH* oUgh man.. what a doozy of a topic..

Thank you so much for reading! And for making this confessions blog! I appreciate it! Was really good to have this off my chest. Wish you and everyone reading a wonderful day/evenin! :)

I admire the hell out of your passion. This was a good read, and has a lot of neat points. Nice going, Anon.

[everybody-loves-purdy]

With a bit of inference, Moth Flight’s Vision is an accidental tragedy about generational trauma.

Moth Flight’s Vision is a book which tries to justify the medicine cat abstinence rule, and it fails at this. This is mainly due to the exceptional circumstances Moth Flight was in when she gave up her kits. And obviously you have the fact she was a very young mother with four children in a time before a nursery system and when Moth Flight herself was also navigating being the first ever medicine cat. But I want to bring up another aspect of Moth Flight’s Vision that heavily influences our titular character’s decision to give up her children and bar all medicine cats from ever having mates or kits: Trauma.

And I want to stress that at no point so I think the Erins wanted to make this a story about trauma. But boy did they accidentally make a pretty compelling story about generational trauma. You need to squint a little though but trust me, it’s there. Accidentally put in the narrative like some of the best stuff in warrior cats often is.

So the trauma I am referring two comes from two cats in her life, her mother Wind Runner/ Windstar and her mate Micah.

So if we start with the former, Wind Runner at the start of Moth Flight’s Vision is very critical of Moth Flight. She has no patience for Moth Flight getting distracted and her lack of hunting skill, and voices how she dislikes Moth Flight’s lack of prey contribution to the clan, and frequently insults her and makes snide remarks to her. Such as you can see in just this one example.

All this leaves Moth Flight feeling inferior and feeling like she is wrong.

All this cumulates in an argument in which Wind Runner lists how irresponsible she believes Moth Flight to be tells Moth Flight she is a danger to her clan. And Moth Flight believes her, and runs away.

Now after this once Moth Flight returns as a medicine cat we don’t really get anything like this from Wind Runner again but the damage is done. Now here’s where the inference has to start coming in a bit. Who wouldn’t be left with a complex after this? Who wouldn’t be left with the need to prove themselves however they can? Moth Flight certainly sets out to please Wind Runner and prove she can be useful to her clan in the early part of the book when she’s receiving this abuse. So why would it just evaporate later when she actually finds something she’s good at and can be of great use to her clan doing? Just put a pin in that for a moment.

Also while we’re talking about Wind Runner; Moth Flight has a conversation with her dead siblings about how she wishes she could please Wind Runmer, which leads to her dead siblings saying that the reason Wind Runner is so harsh towards Moth Flight is because of the trauma she experienced when she lost her kits. Wind Runner’s trauma is ultimately what is causing her to inflict trauma onto Moth Flight.

And now we move onto the second inflicter of trauma in Moth Flight’s life: Micah. Don’t worry, unlike Wind Runner, Micah didn’t inflict any trauma on Moth Flight through his own actions. Unless you count dying in a tragic accident right in front of Moth Flight. In which case yeah, his actions did inflict trauma on her. At least it was an accident.

Micah’s death deeply traumatises Moth Flight. She cannot bear to be in WindClan due to it, she lives in ShadowClan for a moon, avoiding going home due to her grief, and then only travels back once she realises she is pregnant, and decides she wants to be with kin.

The stage is set. The Erins have a young cat set up about to have four kittens that she’s going to give away and change the medicine cat code forever. What they do not realise is that the trauma they have influenced on this character can most definitely be inferred to have an effect on her actions surrounding her children from this point forward, ultimately being perceived as a large push as to why she gives them up.

The book wants us to believe that she gives up her kittens because it is just inherently impossible to be a medicine cat and have mates and children. Which isn’t true as cats such as Leafpool and Yellowfang have since proven wrong. And obviously there are the exceptional circumstances Moth Flight herself has been subjected to during this period. But her trauma can also be perceived to pay a huge part in her feeling like she cannot balance her duties and her children.

To start off with. The first moon of her kits life is fine. Moth Flight steps back from medicine cat duties and lets the very knowledgeable Reed Tail take primary healer duties for the clan. The book skips over the first moon with her kits and therefore we can assume nothing important happens, and no issues come from Moth Flight raising her kits for this first moon. Moth Flight does reflect that how she did on occasion try and do checkups but her kits always called her away. And here, while Moth Flight is reflecting on this, we get this paragraph:

So here we learn two things:

She feels ready to stop having Reed Tail help her when her kits are a moon and a half (6 weeks) old.

Moth Flight does not want to let go of her kits for any amount of time. She equates Slate saying that she can leave the kits for short periods to them not having a mother figure in their lives. And she thinks her kits can only receive adequate love from her.

So with point 1, Moth Flight’s kittens are still little babies. And she feels that she should go back to being a full time medicine cat when they’re still that young despite having Reed Tail to hold the fort, and dismissing him as her helper entirely after this point. And here I’m going to bring back the idea of inference. I feel that this could stem from Wind Runner’s abuse at the start of the book. Wind Runner left her daughter feeling so compelled to be useful to her clan that she’s throwing herself back into her work far too early in order to keep her mother happy and be of use to the clan in the only way Moth Flight feels she can be. Is any of this written in the book? Hell no. But I feel that you can absolutely infer that Moth Flight’s drive to get back to work so soon is due to the lasting trauma and insecurities her mother had imposed on her.

Point 2 is a lot to unpack and here, and this is a point that comes up again, how Moth Flight feels compelled to take care of her kits personally rather than hand them off to babysitters due to their lack of a living father.

So if we use some of that inference here, we can infer that Micah’s death has left Moth Flight insecure about leaving her children alone. She feels that she is the only one who can properly take care of them in her clan. And, undoubtedly by accident, this idea comes back. There are two incidents with her leaving her kits to be babysat and irresponsible babysitting causes the kits to get hurt. The first is where she goes to a gathering and Rocky encourages three of the kits to climb a rock but tells the fourth she’s not ready. So the very next day she climbs the rock. She falls, she gets hurt. And not once does Moth Flight get angry at Rocky for encouraging her children to climb a big rock, oh no, she blames herself.

There isn’t one second where she thinks about how it’s Rocky’s fault this situation arose. She entirely blames herself for it, and the situation is never even discussed with Rocky.

And then something similar happens later on. Storm Pelt is supposed to be watching the kits while Moth Flight goes to RiverClan. And then all four kits end up following her and one of them falls in the river. She doesn’t blame Storm Pelt for any of this. She doesn’t have a single word of blame to say to him about him allowing all four of her children to follow her to RiverClan. And from that we can infer (even though again, the book doesn’t say) she feels the blame lies with herself. This inference can be strengthened given that this is the incident which causes her to feel she should give up her kits.

On top of her feeling wholly responsible for her kits at all times no matter who is looking after them, the main other way they distract her from her medicine cat duties is when she suddenly becomes paranoid that some horrible tragedy has befallen them while she isn’t watching them. And I think all of this paranoia and heightened sense of responsibility regarding her kits all comes down to Micah.

He died traumatically in front of her eyes. She feels extra protective of her children because they no longer have a father. And we can infer that her paranoia of them meeting a gruesome fate has come from her witnessing the painful death of her beloved Micah.

And where does this leave us? All this trauma stemming from both her mother and beloved? Well, Moth Flight decrees that medicine cats must not have mates or kits. She then inflicts trauma onto her own children by separating them and forcing them all to live apart. The trauma that Wind Runner and Moth Flight experienced can now be inferred to have trickled down to both Moth Flight’s kits, and many, many medicine cats for decades to come. The book wants you to believe this is because kits can distract from medicine cat duties, that they can pull a medicine cat away from important duties. But that only happens in Moth Flight’s Vision due to poor babysitters or mainly Moth Flight becoming paranoid that her kits are going to die horribly like their father once they’re out of her sight.

Is this all a stretch? Absolutely. I have no doubt this was absolutely not the intention of the Erins at all. But in the words of Todd Chavez:

Isn’t the point of art less what people put into it and more of what people get out of it?

And thats what I get out of Moth Flight’s Vision. A story about how tragic trauma can be, not only for an individual, but also for others if it becomes generational.

[myfairkatiecat]

Girl how do you get away with saying Keefe is your favorite character when your actual posts about him say way otherwise. You’ll be like “yeah he sucks and makes tons of bad decisions but I love him”

rlly you come across to me as trying to spread your Keefe hate to the other Keefe lovers in a more palatable way because you know theyll reject hate but maybe they’ll accept it if it’s disguised as love, like hiding the dog’s pill in the peanut butter

like you can get away with making your “fellow” Keefe lovers agree with your hatred of him by saying “these are the reasons I love him” and surprisingly it looks like it’s worked with at least a few people?

anyway you can just- Be a character hater. You know that right. You don’t have to sneakily pretend you actually like him and quite frankly it’s insulting to those of us who actually love keefe so 👍 yeah

…

……….

……………..

Ok I really wish I could say with certainty that this ask was satire but here we go.

1. How dare you call me a Keefe hater. I am OFFENDED. That’s my pookie 🥺 but seriously I LOVE that guy. He’s so interesting (to me)

2. Loving a character doesn’t mean being an apologist for everything they ever did???? People aren’t perfect okay? Keefe in particular has been through a lot and has a ton of trauma and is receiving zero professional help of any kind! He’s in a bad mental space and he acts like it. We even get into his head in unlocked and see that yes he is really messed up. I feel bad for Keefe for a lot of reasons, but I’m also incredibly intrigued by the CLEAR connections between what trauma he has and what poor choices he consistently makes. But I truthfully and unconditionally love this guy. He is hands down my favorite character. He’s charming to me as a character archetype (I am a teenage girl bookworm sue me) but also a gut-wrenchingly intriguing mess with problems and guys he’s FASCINATING—

3. My favorite Star Wars character is Anakin Skywalker. You gonna tell me the fact that I disagree with child murder means I can’t love him and the tragedy of his story and the delicious character depth he has? Huh?

4. This is an insult to the real keefe haters. @the-way-astray come collect your title, it has been improperly pinned onto me and I don’t want it

[pilferingapples]

Actually it's tumblr and i can ramble on about this as often and as much as I like and it's making me happy today, so :

A theatre poster presented itself, adorned with the title of a tragedy from the ancient repertory called classic: "Down with tragedy dear to the bourgeois!" cried Bahorel. And Marius heard Combeferre reply:-- "You are wrong, Bahorel. The bourgeoisie loves tragedy, and the bourgeoisie must be left at peace on that score. Bewigged tragedy has a reason for its existence, and I am not one of those who, by order of AEschylus, contest its right to existence. There are rough outlines in nature; there are, in creation, ready-made parodies; a beak which is not a beak, wings which are not wings, gills which are not gills, paws which are not paws, a cry of pain which arouses a desire to laugh, there is the duck. Now, since poultry exists by the side of the bird, I do not see why classic tragedy should not exist in the face of antique tragedy." (LM 3.4.3, Hapgood)

A vital note : " classic" tragedy means Neoclassical-- the old, formalized style of French plays , then still very much in control of the art scene. The Neoclassicals were the Dire Foes of the up and coming Romantic movement. So Bahorel's side of this is very direct: he's calling for the end of Neoclassical theater, like the scarlet Romantic theater kid he is. Combeferre is being more roundabout, but possibly even more insulting! The word Combeferre uses for " duck" is " canard" (because that's the French word for duck). But it was also the term for a certain kind of trashy pulp journal , especially ones claiming to be " true crime" type stories. " The Shocking Murder of So and So" kind of stuff.

So Combeferre is (a) equating the neoclassical repertoire, held up at the time as the pinnacle of classy good taste, to these cheap journals the Neoclassical fans would surely have loathed (or at least claimed to loathe; plenty were definitely buying them) , and (b) calling the Neoclassical repertoire the " poultry" in this summary-- something domesticated and made consumable and ridiculous , distorted out of shape with its original (c) saying it can't even do what it's supposed to do -- " a cry of pain which arouses a desire to laugh" is a big problem for a tragedy! So unlike Courfeyrac and Enjolras in the next passage, Bahorel and Combeferre aren't disagreeing; Bahorel has just gone " those fuckin' assholes" and Combeferre has responded by going all in on the WAYS they are assholes . This is Theater Nerd Solidarity XD

--It's also absurdly complicated, good grief, I don't blame Marius for being confused by this one at ALL :P

[somewhereincairparavel]

Jason, Jupiter and Juno. I have thoughts.

Ok, so u said that Jason was respected at camp bc everyone feared Jupiter's wrath for insulting his child. And while that would work, I think that Jupiter hates jason .Jupiter wants that child dead. Being Junos champion is the only thing keeping him at least mostly alive.

In roman mythology, there is the cycle of patricide. The son kills the father and does a nice little replacement. Uranus, to Saturn to Jupiter (also in greek mythology). I think this plays into Jupiter's interactions with his son because if you have exact knowledge of the extreme violence that it took to exert your position, then who's to stop someone else, another son who's sick of your rule to do it to you? Jupiter is very paranoid.

So killing this child who may be his downfall is quick, easy, and avoids the fear of you being killed, but Juno is like,'I need him alive to do my quest thing. He's my champion now. You can't touch him'. This isn't love or any sort of actual care for Jason, at least not at first, bit Jason is a means to an end. And Jupiter wants him kept in line.

This has so many possibilities (or maybe I'm jsut sleep deprived) bc imagine ur Jason. And you know that if you don't bring honour to New Rome you'll be punished. And if you're too powerful your dad will override your stepmother and kill you. And if you make your stepmother ,she will let said father kill you. Idk. I'm so tired. It's 11 30.

Anyways congrats on 500 :)

so sorry this took so long to respond to!! I was hyperfixated on the mlb fandom these past few days haha

>so u said that Jason was respected at camp bc everyone feared Jupiter's wrath for insulting his child

tbh the reason I said that was because jupiter's ego is extremely high, he isn't threatening the others to respect jason because he loves him, but imagine, the son of the oh so great and superior jupiter getting bullied. that would have him ashamed, because how can such a powerful god's son let himself get picked on by a group of 'weaklings'?. how else can jupiter unnecessarily exhibit his power? he wasn't going to take any chances w that.

so I have this like extra headcanon that any time jason gets gossiped at, jupiter's statue would go CRAZY, like it would start electrocuting the place and zapping the interiors of the senate house, till the guilty party apologizes to jupiter with an offering (emphasizing this point, apologising to JUPITER, not jason. he couldn't care less about his son. he just wants an apology for someone getting his ego bruised by insulting his blood.)

although jupiter down right HATING jason and being jealous of him makes sense and adds more tragedy to jason's character. I feel like like zeus was in a way, more tolerant? that jason was the way he is. I feel like only the jupiter side of zeus actually hated jason, and zeus doesn't feel anything towards jason at all because his greek and roman sides were fighting w eachother and he was confused on what to feel towards him.

and my lil hc is that the jupiter side of him was getting more dominant when he chose not to save jason from death. his jupiter side was basically screaming "let the boy die, now you no longer have competition" and zeus listened, because like I said, he has plenty of sons, so losing one was no big deal.

[badaziraphaletakes]

It’s not necessarily a fully bad Aziraphale take but I feel like the ‘other who can’t admit their queer’ is pointed at him

Thanks for the submission @gretinternetllama

Well, they ain't talking about Crowley 💀 LMAO

This is the most privileged, out-of-touch Aziracrow take I have ever seen. If you think the most painful queer trope is “one of them’s scared to admit they’re queer”, then fuck you and the horse you rode in on.

The most painful queer “trope”, BY DEFINITION, is “one or both of them will be violently killed if they openly acknowledge their love”. Like Aziracrow. Like Castiel. (The tragedy of that isn’t that Dean didn’t love him that way. It’s that Castiel DIED for saying he loved him, lmao. It is so insulting to Castiel to suggest that the worst thing that happened to him is not having Dean’s love.) Like the overwhelming majority of queer people throughout human history. Because THAT IS THE DEFINITIVE TRAGEDY OF THE ENTIRE QUEER EXPERIENCE.

Fuck anyone who thinks that not being willing to openly acknowledge your love for your partner because you know it can never go anywhere BECAUSE YOU’LL BOTH BE KILLED FOR IT is internalized homophobia. (I can hear the gays in Russia laughing rn.)

Having said that, though, let’s take a look at the way OP analyzes “internalized homophobia”, because there is PLENTY to be concerned about there as well.

The “can’t *even* ‘bring themselves’ to admit they’re queer” is DISGUSTING. Fuck this person’s judgmental tone. God, the more I read this the angrier I get. (If they’d written a post saying “I feel so bad that Aziraphale is losing his chance at a relationship with Crowley because of his internalized homophobia; that must be so hard”, that would be one thing. They’d still be dead wrong, lol, but at least this take wouldn’t be bigoted crap. But that’s not, remotely, what they said. There is no sympathy or understanding on offer for Aziraphale whatsoever.) NO ONE has the right to judge someone for not being ready to accept that they’re queer. It is NEVER their fault. It is ALWAYS the fault of the disgusting homophobia and queer phobia of our society at large.

And also fuck anyone who judges someone for rejecting another person’s romantic advances. It’s literally never any of our business why they do that. (This is giving me flashbacks to the 2010’s Phantom of the Opera fandom. And that is NOT A GOOD THING, lmao.) Romantic rejection, even for a depressing reason like this, is not the tragedy people seem to think. No one needs to be with any one particular person in order to be happy. This whole thing is giving “oh, the poor person whose love interest won’t date them”.

Move on and find someone who will date you. Plenty more fish in the sea.

I'd say it's actually a lot more tragic for the closeted person, who has probably missed out on a lot of other relationships for the same reason and is hurting very deeply. But again, does OP have any compassion to spare for the characters they've labeled as closeted? Nah.

(Side note: If you can’t bear to date someone who’s in the closet, DON’T DATE THEM! It’s that simple. And for the love of GOD don’t pressure them to come out or blame them for not being willing to do so.)

Also. This whole thing is giving faint vibes of the putting-your-hands-over-your-ears, “la-la-la-if-I-ignore-your-problems-they’ll-just-go-away”, “if you come out, everything will be fine and everyone will magically accept you” trope, which is offensive, harmful, privileged, dangerous bullshit. Love does not always conquer all. Love does not always make everything magically okay.

(When it comes to Aziracrow in particular, it is also VERY MUCH reminiscent of the belief that once victims leave their ab*sers, their ab*sers will leave them alone, which is the POLAR OPPOSITE of what actually happens in those situations.)

The most ridiculous part out of all of this, though, has got to be mentioning Johnlock. 🤣🤣🤣 Um, which one of those two is supposed to be flamboyantly queer, exactly? Lol that’s just sad. We have better queer representation now. Come on.

Not to mention, Sherlock and John’s relationship/friendship/situationship/whatever the fuck we were supposed to think that was, was horrendously toxic. Nothing about the way they behave to each other is “loving”. Sherlock is a terrible person (and istg if I hear ONE SINGLE PERSON try to say it’s not his fault because of “mental illness” or some ableist bullshit like that, I will come after you with an axe) and not a suitable partner for anyone unless he does some seeeerious work on himself. Even supposing John is in love with Sherlcok, he has EVERY REASON IN THE WORLD not to want to date him - and it has fuck-all to do with shame (more flashbacks to the 2010’s Phantom of the Opera fandom lol).

Also... I thought we'd all collectively agreed to move on from Sherlock because it's horrendously anti-Autistic and queerbaity and Cummerbund Bumpersnatch is a vile ableist stain upon the face of humanity whose name I will not utter? Did I miss something lol?

To the next person to demean Good Omens and the precious, beautiful relationship between Aziracrow by lumping it in with crap like 'Sherlock' - we meet at the dueling grounds at dawn.

One final thing to add: Crowley doesn’t want to “scream their love from the rooftops”????? Because he also knows they’ll be killed or worse if they do that??? Canon Crowley is a FAR better person and a far more loving partner than willfully oblivious, damn-the-torpedos fanon Crowley. I wouldn't like this show if Crowley "wanted to scream their love from the rooftops".

There’s a LOT more that should probably be said about this, but my thumbs are tired and my heart is tireder still.

[maeve-is-annoying-about-books]

Jinx

Hey, this post is gonna talk about some serious stuff, suicide, especially. Please use discretion about whether or not you want to engage with this topic.

Jinx deals extensively with suicidal ideation throughout the entire length of the show. I was close to saying "coded as such" but she outright and upfront has to battle with it directly, and I think it would be an insult to say "coded as" when the text seems plain.

It's in the way Powder hits herself when she's cast aside. It's the blithe way she plays with her explosives, seemingly not caring if they go off in her hand or not. She has nearly no self-preservation in fights, she's more than happy to blow herself up if it means her target goes with her. She set up an entire plot to draw in Vi, so she could at least die in her sister's arms. She doesn't shy from flames or needles or threats and, yes. Kills herself five times in a row and it's only when Ekko begins showing the strain and literal damage he takes on by stopping her that she, herself, stops.

And then she does it anyway at the very end. Like, what the hell is that about? What're the creators saying with this "noble sacrifice", aye?

I don't think it is one. Definitely not a talk about the nobility of Jinx sacrificing herself for Vi's sake. No. I think it's a commentary about something deeply sad.

I think it's saying that sometimes. No matter how much care, and patience, and forgiveness, and Love you give someone...

No matter how much it would hurt for them not to be there, no matter how much of themselves they have left to share...

Sometimes. Sometimes their monsters still overtake them. Sometimes they still leave.

And when that happens it's not poetic. It's not right, it's not just, it's not atonement, it's not any of those things. It's a tragedy when someone takes their own life. Something irreplaceable has been lost.

Jinx did not die a monster or an angel, not a last glimpse of sweet and innocent Powder, she died as Jinx. Her imperfect little self. Just as Jayce talks about the importance of accepting imperfection. As everyone comes to terms with the idea that the cycle must be broken. Jinx knows the way forward is to break the cycle. And even then she falls to it one last time. She didn't make it.

It's tragic.

[transparentbeardmentality]

MHA ended by stripping Deku of agency over his life, future and feelings.

Bakugo, AM and friends COULD have talked to Deku about the tech research happening overseas, and just not disclosed who was funding it (if that was their concern). That at least would fall into "white lie" territory since Deku would still be fully involved, and money is often a private matter anyway.

(A tech entrepreneur using Deku as the perfect protoype for support gear for the quirkless, and Deku's gonna be mad about it? No.)

Instead we see that Deku had been otherized by his core group, talked about behind his back and deprived of a special interest (quirk and tech analysis! Come on!), because they ALL decided they knew what was best for him -including assuming he could not manage his feelings of disappointment if the tech didn't let him be a hero again. (Yikes.)

This obviously means he was not on equal footing with them, and not privy to information and discussion about HIS OWN LIFE AND BODY.

For years.

(And it would have been forever had he remained quirkless/"disabled")

This was treated as a grand gesture by the story, because it showed his friends and Bakugo were financially dedicated for a long time to having him regain his dream (*their dream*- so cute!)... while deciding for him that he was too fragile and self depricating to include and be honest with.

The disrespect.

And Deku being all quivery and weak about finding out?

AM saying Deku should know he 'earned/deserves this' sounds like an awful double entendre.

If he had any self-esteem left after his friends and mentor presumptively thought of him as a walking tragedy who must solely be protected from his own feelings and information about himself, I expect he would have tried on the gear, and then lost his shit that they cut him out of all of it.

And who is he supposed to trust now that everyone has been protecting him by cutting him out and engineering his potential future without him?

It's so insulting.

***?

Heads up, romantic-ableism stans-

Let's say you had a mobility issue. Think about your core group discussing your disability, future, and emotional fragility entirely behind your back for the better part of a decade.

Would this make you feel good or bad? (You would also likely sense your disclusion)

Would it inspire feelings of reciprocal respect and trust?

Would them spending money on a charity/med tech research for your disability, give them more of a right/justification to disclude you from group discussions **specifically about your life and abilities**?

Would the distrust and hurt disappear if they got a positive result from it, or would you feel like the result is at least somewhat tainted by feelings of rejection, and wondering if you could ever really be equal in their eyes after this?

Yeah... Not cool, right?

You deserve to be the first to know about any topic, advancement or setback pertaining to YOUR life and YOUR future, like ANY OTHER PERSON!

Abled or not. Difficult or not.

A disability does not automatically make you lesser, or a child in need of emotional coddling (read: lies and disclusion -however well-intentioned it may be by clueless ableds).

The otherizing was awful and unnecesary. Please examine your biases if you loved this ending for him.