#like with the aesthetic thing i could go on and on

[gay-dorito-dust]

I can't stop thinking about the batboys in a relationship and their significant other doing that trend where you call your boyfriend your husband. Like just randomly mid conversation they'd be like "my husband". I wonder how the batboys would feel about that.

I’m currently in mourning of my snakebites (they might be healed up after I took them out for one fucking day, sounds dramatic I know but I genuinely can’t get them back in) so rip to them I guess haha(laughing but crying real tears 🥲)

Dick

He acts like he knew you’d would call him husband one day but on the inside he was trying not to explode with how badly that word affected him.

Husband.

He didn’t think he would fit the mould for a perfect husband, yeah sure he’s great in many aspects when it comes down to it, but Dick still has a fear that he still didn’t measure up and that he’d end up letting you down sooner or later.

Yet hearing you call him your husband with confidence and pride only had him feeling as though he was falling for you all over again as his vision seemly became brighter, Gotham’s dark and miserable aesthetic had become a little more tolerable for Dick.

Within a blink of an eye he’s holding your face, his beautiful blue eyes shimmering like gemstones, and before you could say anything your face was being bombarded with rapid fire kisses and sweet nothings to accompany them.

‘You want to marry me? Awww you’re so definitely in love with me!’ - Dick would say teasingly.

‘Dick we’ve been dating for a while now-‘

‘Shhhh, let’s enjoy this moment sweetheart.’ Dick would cut you off as he holds you closer to his chest, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead as he felt a warm and welcoming feeling within his chest as he could only imagine the day where you got to obviously call each other mrs/mr Grayson or spouse.

It made dick impatient for the future, but he knew he couldn’t rush perfection.

Jason

Smug prick.

That’s all I’m going to say is that the moment you call him your husband, he’s got a smirk upon his face but his eyes are soft and filled with unspoken love and affection.

He genuinely didn’t think he’d ever get to a point where he would have someone to call him own, to call his home and have something that was his and wouldn’t run away when he comes back from patrol bloody and bruised.

He didn’t think a domestic life was for him but with you, there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t doing something domestic like folding clothes, or doing the dishes together; it was moments where Jason is proven wrong that makes him feel more compelled to think towards the future, or more specifically a future with you where he’d one day stop being a vigilante for good and settle down.

So hearing you call him your husband has this man on cloud nine and a hell of a lot happier then he’s ever been in his entire life. Expect to be hugged tightly from behind with his faces buried deep into your neck as he just breaths you in and reminds himself that this was all real, that this wasn’t some fantasy dream he’ll wake up from; Jason will be reminded that this is his life and it’s a hell of a lot better with you in it that was for certain.

Damian

Doesn’t outwardly show his reaction but his actions afterwards will definitely show what really thinks.

He’s doing more domestic tasks with and for you without hesitation, treating you to lovely outings with Titus and Ace within the park where he’s holding you from behind and smiling at you when your eyes were occupied elsewhere.

With Damian he doesn’t verbally say he how he felt about being called your husband, he just acts like he is your husband by spoiling you rotten with gifts and quality time with him, for he soon came to realise that his time with you was few and far between for his own liking.

He does everything he can in his power to prove that he would be a reliable husband one day, he even does chores that you put on yourself in hopes that eases the long, long list of things to do you’ve already given yourself. He doesn’t like it when you’re stressed and can’t do everything within an unrealistic timeframe that you’ve set for yourself.

However there are still some things that Damian keeps up his sleeves as he’s not found of showing all of his little tricks when there’s room for him to surprise you later on down the line. He acts like your husband because he will become your husband in the distant future, one that’ll be safer than the times you are both were living in now; he just won’t tell you but he will give you hints in hopes you’d able to see them beforehand.

Tim

He stops.

Literally.

Like he has completely stopped what he’s doing and tries to piece together whether or not he did in fact heard what you had just said.

So he waits for you in hopes that you’d say it again and when you do, he’s beaming, he’s smiling as wide as he possibly can.

So once he’s done being frozen to the spot, acting as though he’s just completely shut down from the inside, his laptop would have multiple tabs open with stuff such as;

‘How to be a good husband (with pictures)’

‘Be a better husband by avoiding these 21 common mistakes.’

‘15 small ways to be a better husband, from a marriage therapist.’

And ‘25 qualities of a good husband’

He wasn’t playing when it comes to preparing in being a husband that you can be proud of and gush about to your friends, not only that but also becoming that cliche couple that might as well still be in their honeymoon phase. He just wants to be ready and prepared when the day does become reality and he might as well have folders upon folders of advice that he had stored away for future reference.

It didn’t matter whether or not you meant it when you called him your husband because Tim was more than ready to learn how to be one for the distant future, for being married to you would be a daydream for sweet Tim and he wanted your marriage to be a long and happy one.

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

I took it for my OCs because this just has Such a Good Exploration of Their Aesthetics and Motivations that I wanted to see what they'd get!

Dove:

(wait how did Dove get the same result as me, I think all of her answers were different???) Anyways:

a ring

you’ve made the band simple and beautiful, and inlaid just the details needed to make it special. not too gaudy, not too plain. it’s a ring meant to last forever, meant to be worn forever; when you put it on someone, it wraps around their finger perfectly, delights them. you’ve tried to make it something that people will keep. you needn’t have worried: no matter who you put it on, with time, it starts to wrap tighter around their finger. starts to cling. starts to constrict. you can’t take it off of them, when they beg you to get them free; their skin starts to redden, to bruise, to go black. the only time they manage to get it off is when the finger goes with it. as a sign of devotion, it leaves a strong impression. nobody that you pledge yourself to leaves without a mark.

(This result is weirdly fitting for her, considering she spends a solid 3 chapters fretting that her husband choosing to live his life with her is costing him his health and may well cost him his life. And the sad thing is, she's not entirely wrong.)

--

Srentha:

statue

bit by bit, you carve away the shape of a person, a figure that starts to feel more real the more material that you cut from around it. you make the legs, the arms, the torso, the head; this is your masterwork, your galatea. as you are carving the face, something slips; your hand, maybe, or a fault in the material, a defect in your tool. it leaves a slight chip across the figure’s smooth cheekbone. it has already been carved. it cannot be removed. you finish the rest of the statue. it is wonderful, by all accounts; if you can muster the ability to show it to others, they tell you that it’s a beautiful piece of art. you can’t take your eyes off the chip, though. the mark. no matter where you are in the room, your gaze finds it again, unerringly. you stare at it for hours. you dream of it at night. no matter how lovely the figure may be, no matter how beautiful the face, the imperfection haunts you. you start to hate what you’ve made. hate the mark. hate the figure as a whole. when you are alone with the piece, your fingers start to twitch. when you look down at a pile of smashed stone, you can’t tell if you are still caught in one of your desperate dreams. one of your hopeful nightmares. in the rubble, you can see a piece of the face. the chip still remains.

(So the pride in his creations is ABSOLUTELY Srentha! Being haunted by one mistake... It's not canon, but I could see it being so in his nightmares.)

--

a doll

you’ve made it to be as approachable as you can. a comely face, a soft body, made to be held and be played with and be loved. it looks a bit like you; the way that all things look like their creators, you suppose. you offer it to someone else. they smile with a polite amount of teeth and no warmth when they decline your offer. you give it away. you find it on your doorstep again, days later, slightly damaged. stepped on. no matter who you hand it to, no matter who you entrust with it, it ends up in your arms again, worse for wear every time. that is the conclusion that you have to come to. you are the only one who will hold it gently. the only one who will keep it. but even you don’t really want it anymore, do you? you resent it and feel your heart break for it all at the same time. it’s hard to love a thing that nobody else will. it’s hard not to think that there’s a reason it continues to be discarded. you know this better than you know how to say.

(...oh that would HURT her. She's an oddball, quirky to the point of being disconcerting sometimes, but she struggles to find her place in the world. Having a doll that also struggles to find its place would make it like she put eerily much of herself into it...)

--

Kary:

a sword

it’s a beautiful thing, truly. the edge shines, razor-sharp, and the hilt gleams with polish. it looks like something that only you could have created. it looks like a part of you, made metal and melted into a blade. every detail and decoration along the hilt makes it really and truly yours. when you use it, it works just as any sword should, right up until the final hit; and then it fails. the final stroke through the dragon’s neck. the final strike against the chains. the final slice through an enemy. right as you need it, truly, it slips. or it catches against something. or it breaks. it fails you, in the end, and through the disaster, you’re not sure if you’re glad to see the dreadful thing finally shatter or heartbroken that it couldn’t stay.

(Imagine the sword is Kary's self-reliance and It's Absolutely True.)

quiz enjoyers! i am now inviting you to come create something in my workshop❕

[astrow1zar6]

Slay Astro placements pt 3

Venus/Uranus positively aspected (trine, CONJUNCTION, sextile): this is by far the most magnetic aspects you can have (especially in conjunction) your vibe is very electrifying. People are super drawn to you & you have the ability to attract friends and admirers from every walk of life. These people can really get along with everyone & are usually super fun to be around. It’s never a dull moment around these individuals. You have a very unique/shocking personality & style. This can be a big fashionista placement and are really creative when it comes to putting certain clothing together. (They could have a really cool Pinterest aesthetic as well). They can be seen as very quirky but they usually pull it off in a very cool way which makes people want to copy them! Big social butterflies & always have exciting stories they share because they are always going on crazy adventures. However they can have a difficult time with long term commitments and romance because of their need for freedom. A lot of big influencers have this placement.

Fire grand trine: if you have this configuration in your chart you have big star quality! A grand trine in any element is considered super lucky & rare but I notice in the fire element they tend to be a lot less lazy & it’s easier for them to go for what they want without procrastination ( grand trines have a tendency to make the native lazy with their talents). You have a larger than life personality & have the ability to attract people and opportunities to you as easy as pie. They posses a lot of energy & ambition which makes getting what they want very easy. Big manifestor energy! Anything they put their mind to they can achieve. A lot of celebrities and models (ex; Cara Delevine) have this they usually have an easier time in life and have an easier time finding joy in life than most. They need to watch out tho for being to impulsive & making rash decisions when they become too excited. It’s good to learn grounding tips so they don’t go astray from their goals.

Venus in Leo: this is honestly one of my favorite Venus placements. These people are sooo put together. They can wear a plastic bag and still look like a baddie. Usually big into luxury and you’ll see them wear a lot of designer, name brand shoes, pretty jewelry, expensive perfumes. They usually smell AMAZING omg (especially with VIRGO or Libra in their chart 😩). They tend to be very ambitious as well! Because of their love for luxury & the good things in life they are normally very money driven & I’ve met a lot who get straight As. They are very self assured & know their worth from a very young age. It’s princess treatment or nothing with them. They usually attract partners that show them off & worship the ground they walk on (bc honestly the accept nothing less). They can have a worship kink. They also treat their partners really well too with a lot of attention and grand gestures, dates & gifts. A lot of people envy them and their relationships. Just know you getting taken care of if these natives love you! Very popular placement as well.

Jupiter in the 12th: these natives are so divinely protected & can be super lucky especially when they are practicing any type of spirituality. They have a lot of angels around them! (My mom had this placement and she had a lot of psychic randomly walk up to her in stores and tell her that there were angels around her😳 super cool). These people experience a lot of supernatural shit in their life & can be lowkey psychic (especially in their dreams). They are able to escape from a lot of terrible situations unharmed. This also creates someone that has a very beautiful selfless soul🥺 they are sooo pure at heart. They are usually into things like volunteering, helping the poor/cooking for them, volunteering in foreign third world countries ect. When they aren’t practicing anything spiritual or are giving to others however they can become very lost in life so it’s important for them to give themselves to others selflessly to increase their good luck. Don’t do these people wrong in any way! They are so protected that karma will fuck your life up forreal. Has a very unforgettable vibe especially romantically.

Uranus conjunct mercury: this placement gives Einstein vibes. So many people who are geniuses or savants have this placement in their chart. This gives a very out of the box creative type of thinking to the native. They have the ability to see patterns others usually miss. Their brain works like the speed of light and they can pick up on concepts and academics faster than most. Their brains work in lightening speed! A lot of famous scientists and philosophers have this aspect in their chart. Being super smart however can have its downfalls. These people usually suffer from overthinking because of the amount of information they are able to absorb & suffer from head aches a lot. This can also cause anxiety because you could be ahead of your time cognitively making it really difficult for others your age to understand your thought process. These people have a great out if the box sense of humor as well! Their intelligence makes them able to think of some of the most creative funniest lines.

Sun in positive aspect with the moon (trine, conjunct, sextile) : these individuals are very in tuned with themselves & are usually very comfortable expressing & understanding their emotions more than most. A lot of people are down to them because of how secure they are with themselves & are able to deal with difficult feelings with ease. They have the ability to make others feel comfortable being themselves around them because of their accepting and open natures. They are normally more comfortable being/showing vulnerability than most & their masculine & feminine energies are usually very balanced within them. They are super affectionate and have hearts of gold for the ones they love. They usually know what they want and who they are from a very young age which can make it easy for them to go for what they want since their is little confliction internally. They are guided by their hearts and don’t let others projections get in the way of what they truly desire & want which I think is so special. They can however be over emotional at times and people can take advantage of them a lot because of how giving their natures are:( overall though very good people usually.

Jupiter in cancer/4th house: these people are probably your favorite family member. They are that cousin & aunty that if there aren’t at the family reunion then it’s super dull. They know how to bring people together by their loving charismatic natures. They will do anything for their family and usually grow up being really supported by family members as well. Most I notice came from wealthier families. And if they weren’t wealthy they were all very close to the native and helped them a lot when it comes to achieving goals. Usually they are the breadwinners of the family. They could’ve grown up in a very culturally diverse household where they learned a lot about different ways of living or was able to travel a lot to places most people don’t get to see. Could’ve grown up with big family reunions and a lot of fun feasts and holidays/traditions. Because of the great support in their upbringings they have are usually very wise and emotionally mature even from a young age. Their emotional world is very colorful and can put themselves in others shoes with ease (very big spiritual teacher aspect). Billie Eilish has this aspect and she always says how growing up her family was her rock and she brings them to all her tours. Could be especially close to the mother or grandmother (4th house ruling mother/grandma). When they have a family of their own it’s most likely going to be big and they normally have a very beautiful big house/home. They are normally amazing parents when they decide to have a child of their own.

Taurus or Libra in the 5th house: another big pretty privilege placement. These people are usually very appealing to the eye and tend to enjoy very Venusian hobbies such as art, fashion, beauty, cooking ect. They tend to be very pleasant partners and attract very pretty spouses as well! This can also indicate having very beautiful children when they ever decide to have them. A lot of people in the modeling industry have a Venusian 5th house. Libra tends to be a very flirtatious placement when in the 5th house and are usually able to find their soulmates/ marry at a very early age. Taurus in the 5th may take a little longer to find their soulmates (usually they find them when financially stable) but once they do they are in it for the long haul and their partners are usually quite wealthy or are very good at investing. Taurus in the 5th tend to have a natural charm about them which makes the irresistible to the opposite sex. (Or same sex depending on what you are into). Both can attract a lot of money and admirers in their lifetime.

Juno in the 1st house or 7th: hubby/wifey material. If these people love you trust me you have a rider for life. These people are super loyal and naturally know what it takes to keep a stable long lasting healthy partnership. They are amazing at compromising & will stay with you thru thick or thin. Could’ve dreamed of marriage from a very young age (especially in the 7th). They usually attract partners that see eye to eye with them & have similar ways of thinking which can cause little issues in their marriages. They have the ability to attract others like them! However these people can struggle with having an identity outside of their partnerships and can become very codependent when in love so it’s important to separate yourself from your lover from time to time to not become too overbearing. Overall though very lucky in love & tend to marry early.

Venus/mercury: smooth talker alert. These people can charm the pants off anyone! It’s actually more rare to have this aspect considering it can only be in either conjunction or sextile. Just by the way you speak and engage can make other fall head over heels for you, you know just what to say & your timing with words are impeccable. I notice these people can have very pretty/sexy talking voices (would be very successful in a podcast because people just live hearing you talk) and they can also be very good singers as well. Usually have perfect pitch naturally. Tend to have very beautiful minds. Their words can be very inspiring as well if they ever choose a public speaking career & they have the ability to connect with so many people just by their words. Can use their hands a lot when they speak which makes you even more engaging

North node in Leo: your whole mission in this lifetime is to SHINEEE. This is such a cool north node to have. In another life you could’ve tried very hard to fit into others and hide the quirks that make you special. You could’ve been very involved in humanity and being involved in a community/friendgroup (south node Aquarius) you could’ve been very detached and independent. In this life however you are meant to stray away from groups and lead! This north node is all about fun & self expression. Deep down you have amazing charisma and charm the you may of had to water down to please others but in this lifetime you are here to stand out not fit in. You are meant to be a STAR. Don’t shy away from the stage or give it to someone else it’s all about YOU not other anymore. You are here to experience romance and learn how to connect deeper with your vulnerability. You’re going from mind to heart in this life. This is a big main character placement imo. Big artists like Beyoncé have this north node. This placement is about finding what makes YOU happy and feel good which I find so beautiful🥹.

Leo sun: you radiate warmth everywhere you go. Like the sun you are able to attract others to you and almost give life to the fullness of life. Your large than life personality and positive outlook draws so many opportunities to you. The world is your stage and YOU are the main character. You are super confident in yourself from a very young age and adore the attention you get from others (they get A LOT of attention). You are a natural entertainer and enjoy making others laugh/ inspiring people. Usually into artistic hobbies such as music, art, comedy, dance, poetry ect. The sun rules Leo so this is one of the most fruitful/comfortable placements for the sun to be in. You have this natural love for yourself that teaches others to love themselves as well♥️ if you aren’t careful you can become a little too attention hungry and only think of yourself which can cause you to receive more negative attention than positive. So make sure you give others a chance to shine as well.

Virgo mercury: these people are so well spoken & are super smart. They have such logical minds and have a very vast vocabulary from what I’ve observed. They are extremely clear in their communication as well which is something I admire (cries in Pisces mercury 🥲). They are usually at the top of their class & have little issues in acedemics. They are huge perfectionists and have an eye for detail. They will not hand in their work until it’s PERFECT. I notice a lot of people with this aspect are love reading as well! A lot of people with this placement are amazing writers and a lot of top novelists have their mercury in Virgo. These are the types to read the dictionary to expand their wordplay. However these people can struggle with a lot of anxiety because of how much they think & how hard they try to make everything “perfect”. They can have problems with never feeling satisfied with their work even if their work is incredible. Don’t be so hard on yourselves:(

Castle configuration: this configuration is pretty rare in the chart. This is where you have a grand trine accompanied by two sextiles on the side creating a castle pattern in the chart. This pattern gives great strength and fortitude. Those who have this pattern are natural born leaders and have the potential to achieve great things in life by their drive alone. This pattern is found in a lot of CEOS, businessmen & great politicians. This gives you the ability to succeed in any field you put your mind to. This gives an amazing level of confidence and ambition. & because of their charisma they are able to attract a lot of relationships with powerful individuals that can help them get to where they need to go in life. Their relationships with others too are usually strong and long lasting. The only issue with this is that these natives can be very rash and impulsive when it comes to decisions but they always prevail even thru their mistakes. This is super lucky and rarely shows up in charts. (North west Kardashian actually has this in her chart).

POF in the 11th house: these people naturally attracted like minded individuals/ friends that help them to become successful in life. The Friedan these people make in this lifetime will be powerful and very influential. The 11th house is also the house of hopes and wishes so it’s no wonder these people are natural manifestors! Anything they wish for and desire are more likely to manifest in the physical compared to others. They can be amazing at networking and can gain a mass following by just being themselves. This is a big entrepreneur placement. They have the ability to create meaningful bonds with others and can have friendships that last a lifetime. They can become very well known toward the end of their life or when they reach a mature age.

[circesastro]

Solar Return Observation Pt. 1

Circe's Notes: Hello loves I'm back! Following the New Year, I decided it would be fun to make a solar return observation to kickstart 2025 (even though I am 12 days late but that's besides the point). Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this post as much as I did creating it!

Note: These are just my own observations, ideas, thoughts and theories. This is just for entertainment purposes. Also, please be respectful of my observations! It is perfectly understandable to not resonate with some of my personal observations but please do not leave any disrespectful comments! Lastly, please don’t plagiarize/copy/steal any of my works! Without further ado, enjoy!

**All photos are from Pinterest**

MASTERLIST

⋆。·˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧。⋆ Pluto in 1st

✿ I'm experiencing Pluto in 1st house this year in my SR chart and lemme tell you the observations about Pluto in 1st house is sooo true. I've experienced a drastic change in appearance and so many uncalled for comments about my body and look in general. But I also have moon in 1st this year so majority of the comments were made by women (mostly older woman). Also I experienced a major shift in mindset or outlook in life.

⋆。·˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧。⋆ Jupiter in 2nd

✿ When you have Jupiter in 2nd house in your SR, you may earn more money that year whereas if you have Jupiter in 10th, you might focus on finding a career instead.

⋆。·˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧。⋆ Mars in 10th

✿ Mars in 10th in your SR could indicate having more ambition when it comes to your career and wanting to do more.

⋆。·˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧。⋆ 11th house sign

Your 11th house in your solar return chart can show the signs you attract in friendships that year. I have scorpio in my 11th house this year and one of my friends is a scorpio venus and the other one is a scorpio moon.

Last year I have my 11th house in Leo and I had two other friends with their venus in Leo and the other with Leo moon.

When I had my 11th house in Cancer, my roommate was a cancer stellium and my other friend in college was a cancer sun.

Same thing again, when I had taurus in my 11th house, my only friend in college was a taurus sun and mercury😭.

⋆。·˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧。⋆ Uranus

Uranus in 10th/Conjuncting MC could indicate a change in career path... I had Uranus conjuncting my MC in 9th house and I switched majors that year.

The year my sister had her Uranus in her 10th house, she changed her goals and ambitions too which influenced her career path.

Venus-Uranus aspects or Uranus in 1st can indicate a change in aesthetics that year. Or just experiencing with one's style.

⋆。·˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧。⋆ Scorpio Moon

✿ I don't know if it's just me, but every time I have a scorpio moon there's always that one period where I feel very unmotivated and lethargic...

⋆。·˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧。⋆ Venus in 1st

✿ For Venus in 1st house in your SR, you may start to focus more on your appearance that year. You may also want to do more self care, learn makeup, skincare, etc.

⋆。·˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧。⋆ 12th house placements

Stellium in your 12th house could indicate diving more into spirituality (tarot, divine messaging, astrology, intuitive dreams, etc.) and/or doing shadow work.

Having Sun in 12th house = identity confusion or just taking more time out to understand yourself more that year... it's the year you figure more things out about yourself?

Venus in 12th house can indicate dreaming of your crush frequently that year.

Mercury in 12th house retrograde? Not for the weak!!! IT MADE ME FEEL SO STUPID😭 like I was questioning my own IQ because I would be jumbling over my own words...also, I was always questioning if I should say certain things during conversations and whatnot.

⋆。·˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧。⋆ SR and Relationships

Having 5th and 7th house placements that year can indicate being in a relationship and actively going on dates together.

However, having only 5th house placements that year can indicate going to many dates and not taking relationships too seriously. Prone to having more flings instead of being committed.

Uranus, chiron, or Pluto in 5th or 7th can indicate a break-up in SR.

Uranus = change in relationship status so it's 50/50. If you're currently single you could enter a relationship. If you're taken it could mean breaking up with a current partner. It can also indicate a change in your partnership dynamic.

Pluto = transformations so similar case to Uranus.

Chiron = wounds or healing in romance houses can indicate a breakup or moving on from a relationship

[shalomniscient]

convenience, part 1 || tsukishiro yanagi x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

Your heat, rather inconveniently, comes a whole two days early in the middle of your shift at your job. Your boss drops you off at a heat clinic, and you manage to get paired with who you think might just be the most perfect alpha in all of New Eridu.

cw. omegaverse, alpha yanagi, omega reader, all the usual omv stuff like knotting & breeding

notes. wrote this in a haze of horny delirium for tsukishiro yanagi. yes there will be a part 2 at some point because i will most certainly slip and slide back into horny delirium for tsukishiro yanagi one of these days

Heat clinic.

Such a nice, polite word for what’s essentially a fuck-centre.

Yes, you know in reality it’s just another facet of reproductive healthcare services, and there’s nothing really intimate about it—if the dozens of screenings, tests, and legal documents were anything to go by—but the concept itself is still a little funny. The idea that something so inherently primal could just be dressed up in some clinical wording and a facade with the aesthetic of a dentist’s office and suddenly be completely socially acceptable.

A foggy part of your brain is trying to do the same right now and draft up some polite excuse as to why you had to leave work early today, but with the way Yanagi’s cock is literally rearranging your insides, it’s an effort in futility.

You almost melt against the sheets with another low, drawn out moan feeling her all the way in your damn stomach. You barely even remember how you got here; your heat, the damn unpredictable thing it is, had hit early while you were still on your shift. Staying in the store would’ve been a terrible idea, what with it almost being rush hour, and so your poor boss—a beta man, thankfully—had sped you on over to the nearest heat clinic in Lumina Square. And you had writhed and squirmed on the bed that had too many too sterile pillows for God knows how long until they finally managed to send an alpha in to help you. She’d smelled of fresh laundry and warm bread and by that point there really wasn’t much else you wanted to think about besides getting her scent all over you immediately.

“Yanagi,” you whine, wiggling your hips petulantly at her slow, controlled pace. It’s strange, how well her name fits on her tongue despite you only learning it a few—minutes? hours? you don’t even know, honestly—ago. The alpha behind you croons low in her throat, leaning down to brush the bare, sweat-damp skin of your shoulder with her nose. But instead of that skin-to-skin you expect, you get smooth leather instead, and you remember that this is a damn heat clinic, and all heat clinic alphas have to wear a Mask.

It’s a safety precaution, and a sensible one at that; having an omega be accidentally marked during what should just be a transactional encounter would be horrifying for both the alpha and omega, and a world of legal pain for the clinic. Hence the invention of the Mask—a generally non-invasive little leather contraption that covers the alpha’s mouth completely, with well placed openings to still allow for easy breathing and speech. You’re normally more grateful for its existence in keeping omegas such as yourself safe, but right now it may as well have been invented by the devil.

“Breathe,” Yanagi reminds you, her voice ever so soft in a way you’ve never heard an alpha be before. Your previous heat partners, while still somewhat gentle—you’d specified as such in your documentation—still tended to have that typical alpha-ness to them. Demanding and commanding, eager to take and wring as many orgasms from you as they can manage. Which is, of course, exactly what you need, deep in the throes of heat as you are, but it leaves you with a rather heavy mental weight after that takes a while to lift. But Yanagi is calm, measured, and careful, even as she sinks balls deep into you, knot bumping the stubborn ring of your entrance. It makes your basest omega instinct preen with satisfaction at being so tenderly cared for, that you find yourself thinking, quite stupidly, that you could get used to this—to Yanagi.

She coaxes you out of that little reverie with the brush of her thumb against your clit. You jolt, startled but pleased, rocking forward slightly onto the sheets ruined with your slick. Yanagi follows with a roll of her hips, bumping the head of her wonderful cock against that spongy collection of nerves and drawing another warbling cry of her name from your lips. She moves with such patient elegance and finesse that you’d think she wasn’t in rut and had to find refuge in the nearest heat clinic like you. Or, rut clinic, in her case. This particular branch in Lumina Square did both, and what a blessing that turned out to be.

“Yanagi, faster,” you urge, whiny and out of your mind with lust, looking over your shoulder at her. Soft pink eyes meet your own, and her pupils blow just a little wider. You hear her breathe in deep through her mouth, the sound amplified by the Mask, and a primal giddiness runs down your spine. You know what she’s doing; inhaling your scent and letting it coat the inside of her mouth, her throat, and letting it fan the flames of her own lust. She relents with the quietest growl you’ve heard from an alpha, drawing her hands back to rest them on your hips, palms flat against your skin.

And then she’s snapping her hips forward, fucking you, and you’re completely and utterly gone. Your head drops, cheek against the mattress as your arms give out under you, and you melt against the sheets into a delicate arch that has Yanagi twitching inside you. Your brain drips out of your pussy around her cock, not a damn thought in your mind beyond the steady, rhythmic drives of her railing you senseless. You can feel her knot swelling, bumping against the lips of your cunt and it only makes you squeeze tighter around her.

Yanagi pants behind you, nails digging more into the meat of your hips. The scent of her floods your senses, and she almost smells like home were it not for the underlying, extremely faint but still somewhat noticeable scent of ozone and iron. She’s testing the waters with her knot, seeing how much you’re ready to give by pushing it forward ever so slightly then drawing back. It makes your fingers curl in the sheets, more needy whines falling from your lips as you beg her to stuff you full. Yanagi shudders at that, leaning down to—or attempting to—nose the dip of your spine between your shoulder blades.

“I’m going to knot you,” she promises gently, and you mewl in anticipation. “Be sweet for me, okay? Breathe, and relax. You’re doing so well, good girl.”

Holy fuck.

“Likes to be praised” was not an option even given to you on the forms, but somehow, either by luck or intuition, Yanagi had struck absolute gold. You nearly cum then and there at the praise, moaning unashamedly as your cunt clenches like a vise around her cock. Yanagi makes a small, choked noise in the back of her throat, clawing at your hips to steady herself again. It takes her a moment and several calming breaths before she can resume her slow press into you and you bite the sheets to make up for the fact you can’t sink your teeth into her shoulder instead.

Yanagi is already big, deliciously so, but her knot is certainly something else. You’re suddenly grateful for the generous amount of lube that was provided in the room and that Yanagi had the sense to use before she stuffed you full of her cock. It makes the stretch of her controlled slide into you far more bearable—not that you would’ve given up even if it wasn’t. Heat crazed as you are, you’re sure you’d find a way. Thankfully, Yanagi’s foresight made such extremes unnecessary, and she nuzzles soothingly at your neck, by your scent gland as she inches deeper and deeper, stretching you more and more until her knot slips fully inside you with a wet pop.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you cum with a loud cry, inner walls spasming and fluttering around her thick length. You almost feel like you might pass out, utterly light headed, cumming not in spite of the stretch but because of it. Fuck, Yanagi might just have ruined you for any other alpha. You feel your slick spray out and coat your thighs despite the knot buried inside you, and you make a noise between a moan and a sob as your orgasm rips through you viciously. Yanagi rocks and grunts behind you, riding that knife’s edge of stimulation until she’s tipping off of it herself, releasing your hips in favor of bracing herself over you, palms bracketing your head as she spills into you with a stifled, drawn out groan. You feel her throb inside you, pulsing with each jet of cum she deposits into your eager cunt. You can’t help but preen at the sensation of being filled so thoroughly, which Yanagi returns with a low, soothing croon.

She makes sure to lie on her side to recover, deceptively strong yet slim arms holding you close. It’s a welcome reprieve from the many alphas who would simply flop on top of you and crush you into the mattress, and you make a pleased noise, your brain buzzing with happy, satiated chemicals. Her cosy scent just makes you relax further, sweet honey on fresh toast, like home, and you find your eyelids drooping. Yanagi notices, and a lilting, melodic laugh resonates through the Mask.

“Rest,” she says gently, a hand caressing your side, “you did well.”

You have some time to kill anyway, knotted together as you both are. So you take her suggestion, and drift off into a satisfied slumber. What happens next is for your heat-free brain to deal with, but you’re certain of at least one thing: you’re not spending your next heat with anyone other than her.

When you wake, you wake woefully bereft.

Your thighs are parted, and you hiss when something wet and cold touches your skin. You blink open your eyes blearily, and find Yanagi looking down at you from where she kneels by your side, running a washcloth along your inner thigh. Her Mask is off, set on the bedside table now that both of you are somewhat stable enough to head back home and weather the rest of your respective heat and ruts privately. Her lips are curved into a small, glossy smile, and a pair of red-rimmed glasses rest delicately on the bridge of her nose.

“Did you rest well?” she asks, smoothing the washcloth down your other thigh. “I hope you don’t mind that I took some initiative. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or sticky when waking up.”

It takes you a while to find your voice, but when you do find it, it’s utterly wrecked. Yanagi flushes slightly at the sound when you speak, looking ridiculously cute for someone who just gave you the most intense orgasm of your life.

“Yes to the first, no to the second,” you answer, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Yanagi’s smile broadens, and she shakes her head lightly. “I should be thanking you—my rut hit early out of nowhere, and if you weren’t willing…”

“I could say the same for you,” you rasp wryly, watching as she diligently cleans you. She takes care not to give too much stimulation to your sensitive sex, but makes sure to clean up the remaining drops of her cum that still leak from you. “I guess we both got lucky.”

“Quite,” Yanagi agrees, and you see her throat bob as she tries not to focus on the way her seed drips out of your cunt. “In any case, you were… very helpful. Thank you.”

You manage a dry chuckle at that. What a polite alpha. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

The flush on her cheeks deepens ever so slightly, and she ducks her gaze away from yours, almost bashful. She sets the cloth down on a disposal bin on the bedside table, then turns to grab something further down the bed. A surprised noise leaves your lips when you see what it is: your clothing, all neatly folded. And if your nose is telling you the truth—

“I… took the liberty to scent your shirt,” she admits, still not meeting your eyes. “Just to tide you over until you make it home. It should deter any other alphas from trying anything.”

You swallow, throat suddenly dry. You wonder if you’re dreaming—do alphas this nice really exist? You’ve met your fair share of decent alphas, but they all have that typical alpha arrogance about them. If she hadn’t just knotted you, you might have thought she was an omega with how tender she’s being, and you find yourself thinking for the second time today how you could get so used to this.

“Thank you,” you say eventually. Yanagi nods, relieved, then rises from the bed. She’s already clothed; although, she didn’t take much of her clothes off while fucking you in the first place, just popping a few buttons of her shirt and hiking her skirt up enough to get it out of the way after ditching her corset. She fixes the tassels of her tie, ready to head out the door, and the words blurt out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Do you want to do this again?”

Your jaw clicks shut as soon as Yanagi stills, turning to face you with a puzzled look on her face. She blinks, brows furrowing as she considers your words. “This… again?”

“There’s an option for, uh— scheduled sessions between an alpha and an omega, if they choose,” you explain, trying not to sound as nervous as you feel. “It saves on hoping for another presentation to be available when your heat or rut rolls around.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Yanagi hums, eyes drifting to the side as she takes a moment to consider.

“It’d be convenient,” you continue, unable to help yourself from pressing a little more. If you sound desperate, you can’t be bothered to be ashamed. You’d rather lose your dignity than this damn perfect alpha before you. “And you’re someone who likes convenience and routine, right?”

Yanagi raises a brow. “How did you figure that?”

“Well,” you shrug, attempting nonchalance, “I suppose it was a lucky guess. How did you know I liked being praised?”

Yanagi turns beet red at that, a palm shooting up to cover half her face. Even her ears are a delicate blush colour. “It just… felt right,” she mumbles, her home-like scent thick with embarrassment. You chuckle softly at that.

“See? I think this could be mutually beneficial, Yanagi. What do you say?”

The time it takes her to think feels like it stretches on forever. You can almost see the gears on her head turning, analysing, as if weighing the costs and benefits over every last detail of your proposal. Those pink eyes gleam with an intensity you can’t help but feel drawn to in a way you’ve never felt before with any alpha. Eventually, she turns back to you with a small, polite smile.

“We could give it a shot.”

You grin, feeling relief flood your system so strongly you nearly fall back onto the bed. “Sounds great. I’ll see you next month, then?”

“Next month,” Yanagi returns, and then she slips out the door with the click of heels on cold tile. You flop back onto the pillows when the door closes, unable to stifle a giddy, girlish laugh from spilling from your lips.

God, for once in your life, you can’t wait for your next heat.

[whysperingwoods]

I've had to block the "tarot reading" and "pick a card" and "pendulum reading" tags because otherwise the witchblr tag is completely unusable. I wish there was a way to stop those posts from showing up altogether instead of showing up but saying "this post is hidden". I also wish I could mute users without blocking them. I don't want to see AI generated crap constantly and the same correspondences posted over and over but I also don't necessarily want to ban this person from seeing my content (if there are ways to do this please let me know, I was off tumblr for a long time).

I also ran into the problem when starting to use this blog again of feeling like I needed to explain every single detail anytime I made a post, but even still someone will come onto it with an "um actually" and I feel the need to constantly justify myself with "this is MY practice and how EYE do things after 15+ years", like I can't explain 15 years of practice every single time and how I arrived at doing things a certain way.

I decided this year I'm just not doing educational posts anymore altogether. If someone has questions then I'm happy to help, and when I see questions I feel like I can contribute to I answer them, but I ended up spending so much time agonising over the perfect wording and making sure every single detail is covered so extensively that it ended up making me hate writing.

It's funny going over my posts from four years ago, there were so many actual discussions in the community and the witchblr tag was full of people just sharing their practices and talking about different methods and techniques. There was still fighting of course but it was a different kind I guess?

And there is so much constant virtue signalling it's becoming unbearable. Every few posts is calling out x behaviour or y behaviour but like I'm in the witchblr tag every day, and never see those behaviours being called out actually happening. Half the time I suspect people are making up something to be mad about or they say some ragebait thing on another site and they're posting it like it's a regular occurrence.

I think the leaning further and further into the realm of "you don't have to do anything to be a witch, as long as you feel like one" has done the community some damage. I understand this was meant to be inclusive, but at some point if you've never made a loaf of bread in your life, can you call yourself a baker? There does need to be some element of practice beyond reblogging aesthetic images in the name of a deity (I would argue that makes one more of a devotee than a practitioner?). How one practices is entirely personal, but "practice" implies there is some doing.

Maybe this is what folks are trying to do with the #advwitchblr tag? It's unfortunately still very slow moving, but I'm hoping more and more people catch on to using it. This is also why I made the Witchcraft Discussion community as an alternative to the Witchcraft community so it was focused more on discussion than memes and random stuff unrelated to witchcraft, but so far I'm the only person posting there.

Anyway sorry for rambling on your post but this has also been on my mind for a while lol

excuse my complaining but

i wish the witchcraft tags on here weren't clogged up with tarot asks and selfies and AI generated crap

bring back spells and rituals and masterposts and tarot deck reviews and people learning how to do magic for more than the aesthetic and views

please im begging at this point lmao

[pauline-sunshine]

Wanna smoke?

Jungkook x reader

Warnings: characters are smoking

Word count: 1360

A/N: I apologize for any errors! English is not my first language. Enjoy! Also those edits with this mf smoking live rent-free in my mind. Help.

First time in South Korea! Exciting, right? It was your dream for quite some time and finally you decided to come here to experience rich asian culture and see everything yourself. It was especially pleasant because you ended up to having your personal guide through Korea in a face of Jungkook. You still didn’t believe it, though.

Due to your profession you visited a lot of music events and awards. As trivial as it is that’s exactly how you two met. There was something special about your relationship yet intangible. You could be miles away from each other, you could not talk for weeks, but every time any of you replied to the other’s story it always grew into the most heartwarming and deep conversations. The connection between you two was on another level. It was as if time didn't exist when you were engaged in these exchanges, transcending distance and circumstance. There was no place for awkwardness instead it was a pure hart-to-heart or soul-to-soul interactions. You knew him from another life, at least you liked to think so.

Obviously he was the first one to find out you were going to Seoul. It all stated as your usual conversation but it led to something different this time.

“Guess what, Jungkook,” you teased him with a sly smile.

‘’Oh, i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours,” he answered in a raspy voice.

“Well, you’d better be prepared because I’m coming,” you raised your eyebrows in a quick movement and glanced at your FaceTime partner.

“Is that a threat? Am I supposed to be scared?” He tried to joke it off.

“You didn’t get it, did you? I said I’m coming to Korea,” you made sure to emphasize the last word.

“Are you serious? When? I’ll make sure to meet you at the airport,” all of a sudden his joking side transformed into impatience.

“Hey, hey, come down, cowboy. I’m coming in a week. Still have to make a hotel reservation and…” you couldn’t continue because of his interruption.

“What are you talking about? You thought you would come to Seoul and stay in a hotel. Please, make me a favor and don’t say stupid things like that ever again. You’re staying in my apartment.” He wasn’t even asking or inviting you to stay, it sounded more like a demand.

“Well, I guess I can’t refuse then,” you bit your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling.

You arrived quite late at night but he kept the promise and picked you up from the airport. You noticed him in a waiting area and ran to him dropping all your baggage.

“I never thought I missed you so much,” you smiled dissolving in his warm embrace.

“I never thought you would finally become bigger than my phone screen,” he admitted hugging you stronger.

“Told you I was coming,” you teased him and loosened the embrace keeping your hands around his neck.

“Told you I was scared,” he talked back smiling and resting his hands on your waist slightly moving them up and down.

“Now, c’mon, let’s drive home. It’s late,” he suggested while looking into your eyes.

He picked up your things and led the way to the car. On the way to his apartment you were talking about your ‘tourist schedule’: things you had to do and places worth visiting. You didn’t notice how the time flew by but here you were entering his apartment.

“Wow” you sighted.

“Wanna look around?”

The apartment’s interior design reflected a blend of modern aesthetics and personal touches that were creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. The living area featured a minimalist design with sleek furniture. The kitchen had dark cabinetry that contrasted beautifully with light countertops. In the bedroom, a calming color palette of soft grays and whites promoted relaxation. The bed was dressed in plush linens, surrounded by tasteful decor that reflects Jungkook's personality. There was also a nice balcony with a breathtaking view of the city. Overall, Jungkook's apartment was a harmonious blend of style and comfort, making it a perfect sanctuary for the talented artist.

He showed you your room and gave you some personal time because he knew how tiring flights can be.

“Make yourself at home, Y/N. Take your time, meanwhile I’ll get us some food,” he said leaning on a doorway.

You quickly freshened up, unpacked some of your things and headed back to the living room. You found him laying the table.

“Hey,” you said quietly letting him know you were there.

“Well, I thought, as it’s your first time in Korea, I decided to order some kimbap, hope you will like it.” He made a gesture inviting you to sit.

“Never tried that but it looks absolutely delicious,” only now from seeing the food you actually realized how hungry you were.

“And for the drinks…” he was going through his liquor cabinet, “wanna try a Korean soju?” He turned to you.

“Bring it here,” you replied with a big smile.

You had the time of your life having dinner with him and laughing at the way he was trying to teach you how to eat with chopsticks. Once the food was finished, the two of you moved to the living room opening another bootle of soju. Maybe it was the tipsy state you two had but every time there were just a little more innocent touches and the need of him inside you was growing stronger. Laughter became quieter, and pauses between sentences grew longer and were filled with meaningful glances.

“Wanna smoke?” You suggested.

“Hell yeah, let’s go,” he stood up and gave you his hand lifting you up.

He didn’t let go of your hand instead he intertwined your fingers and led you to the balcony. As you entered you noticed a little couch with a coffee table on a side with cigs, lighter and an ashtray. He plopped down on the couch while you came closer to the panoramic glass windows just admiring the beauty of Seoul.

“You know, the view is to die for,” you murmured completely mesmerized by what you were seeing.

“Yeah, I know” he agreed. You’ll never know that at this moment the only thing he was looking at was you.

“Do you want to hear my smoking playlist?” You asked while sitting next to him on the couch.

“Sure, I want to hear everything If that’s connected to you” he lighted up his cigarette. You held your one between your lips while finding the song. “Here, let me help you.” He took your chin with his hand turning your face to him. Neither of you broke the eye contact as he lit your cigarette.

“Tanks,” you replied. “Here, found it, listen,” you pressed play. Boy, the last thing he expected to hear was this.

“But that’s…” he bursted into laughter.

“Yes, that’s Black Swan…Hey, you! Stop laughing!” You hit him slightly while making a drag.

“Sorry, sorry, I just didn’t expect that,” he said after letting the smoke out.

“I don’t know…It just makes me feel thing okay?!” You started singing along to the song while reaching the ashtray and stubbing your cigarette.

Jungkook made the same thing and there you were in bare millimeters away from his face. The next thing you knew was your lips meeting his. A shy at first snd soft kiss builds into a passionate one. You move and sit down on his laps whining upon him. “Wow, you’re impatient,” Jungkook chuckled softly against your lips. You rushed your fingers through his hair and his toned torso while he shamelessly explored your body with his arms. His hands roam your back, pulling you in closer. The tension builds, electricity crackling between you as the music continues in the background. Jungkook pulled back slightly, glancing into your eyes, his breath mingling with yours.

“It’s about time, don’t you think so?” He said with a seductive smile. You gleamed and led him into another kiss.

[plat3uau]

I honestly do not know where to begin or how to even write a decent looking introduction, so allow me to just drop this and leave…🤣😭

Okay, but jokes aside, since I’ve been getting really into visual storytelling lately, I just thought “Huh, why not test it out with Jingluo, and capture their dynamic while trying to add a fairytale-like elements to it?”

Also, I genuinely want to become even more expressive through my art, overall… and I guess it’s also an excuse to draw even more stuff related to the two (shhhh, and excuse me for the repetition.😫😫)

Notes on the title (that I think might be needed): I know the matter of language isn’t relevant to the game’s plot at all, but for some reason I’ve developed the headcanon that Luocha is good at picking up languages, as he travels a lot. (I see him just… being very quick at adapting and blending in with the locals’ way of doing things, in that kind of sense. <3)

We don’t really know much about him as for now (still waiting for that lore drop, though!!), but judging from his appearance and aesthetics (so please take this with a grain of salt), he looks like (at least to me) a character from a place based off Europe or the West… So because of that, I had the view that Luocha might have had a harder time actually writing down/learning by heart the Chinese characters (or at least the writing system there) commonly used by the people in the Luofu, when he first set foot there (I mean, I thought of that as it’s a region very much inspired by Chinese culture), since most European languages use the Latin script as for their writing system.

So hopefully this explains why there are two inscriptions: the one on the left side of the canvas is actually written by Luocha, and the other one being the translated version of the title!🥰

(P.S. I tried to translate the title in Chinese to make the Luocha’s writing seem… how to say, more believable? More real? Anyways, I ended up with “我在你身边”, which translates into “I will stand beside you”, so not super faithful to the original title, but I believed that the essence of the general meaning of the original one was still there, so I decided to go along with it.

I’m no native speaker here nor a translator, just a person who studied some Mandarin for a while. T - T❤️)

(P.S.S. I’ll try to keep you updated! My creative process is usually quite slow, so I was thinking that maybe I could share some of the wips with you all. Or you know, just to document some of my thoughts, that kind of stuff. ^_^

Alright!!! I wrote too much, and honestly, BLESS your heart for reading through my stream of consciousness, lmao. But I genuinely appreciate it, I really REALLY mean this.🥺❤️

Thank you so much for taking your time to do so. To whoever reached this point. <3)

[uncleasriel]

THANK YOU. This helped articulate a lot of my misgivings with this multimedia franchise that have swirled in my head for a long while.

So many of my misgivings this truly does boil down to "overabundant, easy consumerism" and "paucity of depth in the immediate source material". I'm not beyond consumerism - I have a wall of out-of-print books and DVDs for all sorts of weird stuff - but the need to spend money on every damn thing that bears the sigil of That Thing I Love is in complete opposition to my own sense of aesthetics.

I still have a slight mistrust of the Star Wars bandwagon, for similar reasons: I thought those movies were also the coolest shit when I was 8, but don't feel the pressing need to have my entire kitchen suite remodeled to look like the Death Star. But while I would look askance at someone who had that kind of zeal for Star Wars, I could at least have some interesting discussions with them their thoughts on the differing canons, the case for whether Yazhun Vhong were compelling villains, or why The Revenge of the Sith novelization was more compelling than its source material gave it a right to be.

With Harry Potter, all we get are a series of books and films that work well as self-contained adventures, but the scope of which feels pretty local, and is best suited for individual discussions about "that development with Character A sure was something,huh?" It would be like folks discussing Star Wars going "wow, that twist about Luke's father was one helluva doozy!" And Star Wars is a much bigger setting than that. Does Harry Potter have any thing of that scope?

I I think the reason I'm writing so much about a franchise I'm so indifferent to is because it's so utterly pervasive in the modern media landscape, and on an animal level, I can't quite grasp why. The books were fine! The movies were good, even! But I don't see why some people have to make their entire personalities and personal brand. I don't see why they need to inculcate their children into that brand, especially when said brand was designed to age with the demographic at the time when they were published, and tonally transformed as they aimed at a different reading and maturity level.

I try not to get judgemental about what people like. I'm wholly indifferent to My Little Pony, but when people I know gush about how they loved the show in its heyday, I just smile in delighted befuddlement and let them carry on. Someone in 2025 still using the label of "brony" is gonna raise a question or two, but I don't feel any the need to write several essays about it - I'll just give a simple "glad you like it" before moving on. I feel don't like it when people turn a something someone likes into a target of derision. Sure, there are some parts of the fanbase that get cringeworthy, and some parts of it are even vile, but the same can be said of any similarly sized IP, be it Star Wars, Disney Animated Series, and yes, even Harry Potter. The mystery about why I feel a little defensive over someone shitting all over a brony but a bit of glee over attack Harry Potter is one that I had to crack, so I thank you @galileosballs for helping me tease this out. It's good to get at the root of one's more vicious impulses, and this certainly helped tease out a lot of my reasoning.

for the record even if we lived in a universe where jk rowling wasn't a fundamentally evil person, and every dollar spent on harry potter merchandise wasn't being funneled directly into anti-trans causes, I would still think grown ass adults who are unable to help themselves from purchasing every possible thing from a mediocre childrens book franchise are extremely pathetic people

[hurlumerlu]

i feel like i’m missing something about the ashtray that you’re seeing, so i must ask, what do you find so fascinating about it?

Well this is probably going to end up being a bit embarassing for me, but no, I don't think you're missing anything about the ashtray. I think it's meant to add just a touch of unease and not much else.

The reason I'm so obsessed with it - my neuroses aside - is because of how gratuitous it feels.

As a transition shot (which I'm using to mean "first shot we get to signify we cut from one scene to another", my apologies if it's not the right technical term) it's kind of a jarring one: a simple, abrupt cut from a relatively colorful shot of Kant in his home to this close up of an object in predominently dark and sepia tones. It's also not the most informative one.

All the clues as to where we are (the computer, the notebook, the chair, the lamp) are background things, out of focus. The one thing that is in focus is something that's never really been brought to our attention: yes, the captain is the only character we've seen smoking so far, and yes, the ashtray is technically present in his office when we're introduced to him, but I had to look for it to find it and would have never noticed it otherwise:

So we've got all those rather discreet, almost subliminal informations about our location, and smack in the middle of it the figure of a naked woman tits up, laying under one of tv's most beloved phallic symbols, and it's just... why? Why put that shot in? What's the point? They very well could have just put a shot of the office through one of its doors, they even did it in the cut version.

(informative, very easy to read, but does not set any particular tone)

But they didn't want to, so it has to be purposeful. My thoughts on its purpose below. It turns into me trying to analyse the captain and Kant's relationship, so it gets kinda long, and just as a heads-up, I discuss sexual coercion down the line.

So, like I said in the begining of my post, I think it's meant to add just a touch of unease and not much else. I stand by it, but I am very interested in that unease. Frankly, even if it was the most tasteful sculpture of a bare lady I had ever seen, I would still question its presence in Christ's office (where he works as a police captain.) But it's pretty far from tasteful, isn't it? Regardless of aesthetic considerations (I think it's fugly), it's an ashtray. The captain stubs his cigarettes and drops their ashes on the figure of an arched, naked body. There's inarguarbly an element of sleaze to that choice of prop, or as my wife would put it "yeah, it's here to tell us that cap's kind of a creep."

And it's not the first time the subtext got sleazy around these two either. They had one of their talk in a bathhouse (probably a universal spot for gay hookups, but certifiably a thai spot for gay hookups) in a steam room (even if there wasn't a long history or eroticising those places, Style almost jerked off/blew Fadel in one last episode). Of course, it's also an hommage to spy stories, spies sure love their saunas, but I don't believe it's only that. Because 1/again, that FadelStyle scene one episode prior. 2/I will not do JoJo Tichakorn Phukhaotong the insult of implying he does not know his gay porn and 3/

they didn't have to touch. They could have exchanged informations and gone their separate ways without touching even once. If they had to touch it could have been a hand on the shoulder or a handshake. (That's what I thought would happen! When we got a glimpse of that scene in the trailer, and I wrote my very first fic for this fandom, I genuinely thought the scene would only be an hommage to spy stories, and that all the potential sleaziness I was seeing there was just, well, me being me. I wrote the fic because I thought the show wouldn't go there!) But instead we got the captain following Kant to a bathhouse, the both of them meeting in a sweat room (something made explicitely sexual in the previous episode), Christ telling Kant he has to "up his game" and to not "tell anyone about this" and then slapping his thigh in a manner very reminiscent of another thigh grab we saw in episode 2, this one definitely sensual.

I'm calling that subtext, and I'd say whoever did the cut for the tv version agreed with me, since they completely removed that damn ashtray. Now, it could simply be a matter of female-presenting-nipples, but I'm willing to bet the thigh grab was also cut (if I'm wrong, feel free to point and laugh). EDIT: @deliriousblue checked, and I was in fact wrong! They kept the thigh slap. I don't think it detracts from my point too much, though, as it doesn't negate anything I said before about sexual subtext/coding. (but If anything, it makes the switch from ashtray close-up to wide office shot stands out even more)

So there's something sexual lurking in the outskirt of Kant & Christ's relationship. It's implied, it's light, but it's there.

I think part of the purpose is just a little playful nod to porn clichés, but I would argue that there's a bit more to it, because Kant and the captain's relationship actually has a very clear sexual component.

Not in that I think they fucked (in canon. i don't think they fucked in canon. i do think it should be explored in fics.), but the plain fact is that Christ is whoring Kant out. It probably didn't start that way, the begining of their partnership was probably more "you have names and contacts and I want them" but how could it stay like that? Once Kant gave all the name he already had, once the captain started to assign him to cases he had no previous contacts with, no point of entry, do we really believe Kant wasn't expected to exploit a sexual angle? I think the people who say Kant didn't have to make Bison fall for him are kidding themselves, and not only because there would be no story if he hadn't. Our societies are far less suspicious of the idea of a stranger suddenly getting close to you because they're hoping for sex than it is of a total stranger getting close to you with hopes of friendship. That's just how it is! You make friends in the circles you already run in, and with the general understanding that real intimacy will be slowly built overtime. Meanwhile a random hookup can have access to your bedroom the very night they met you. There's just no contest: for the kind of missions Kant seems to be sent on, with absolutely no backup or cover story or anything, seduction is pretty much the only trick up his sleeve, especially if the captain presses him for fast results like he did in the show. (not to mention that, on an almost "meta" aspect, the captain chose a young man who's Thai BLs level of conventionally attractive to do his dirty work) The captain may not have said "I need you to have sex with dangerous people", if only to have a layer of legal plausible denial, but he certainly expected it, and even if - a big if - Kant got the idea himself for expediency the first time, Christ kept placing him in situations where he would have to do that again. The captain's a pimp, the currency is intel, and the show said "you don't have to face it if you don't want to, that might be a bit much for a romcom, but we are not shying away from it." Or at least that's where my reading currently lands.

And I do think it's interesting that the two times we were reminded of this aspect of sexual coercion, it was followed first by the KantBison mutual dubcon of episode 3, and second by the captain actually bothering to look physically threatening to Kant for the very first time. Because as you pointed out in the tag under this post, the show plays super interestingly on First Kanaphan's actual height and how often Kant is dwarfed by others, but the captain almost never bothers to use his own considerable height. He sits. He lounges. When he gets up it's never into Kant's space. He can turn his back on him without fear. He doesn't threaten, he reminds. Until Kant himself threatens not just to quit but to bite back and suddenly the confrontation is physical, even though they're not touching. A reminder not just of the consequences, but of their respective place. Then it passes, and here's the nonchalance again: Christ goes back to his ashtray.

And if I may abandon sincere media analysis for just a second and be a little cheeky? Here's a picture of the captain in his sofa, knee slightly parted, Kant coming toward him. And the cigarette I called one of tv's most beloved phallic symbols?

yeah, it's pointing up.

[technoturian]

I have been thinking about this a lot. I drafted this and considered not posting it, but I read this post and I kinda wanted to add onto it and at the same time I didn't want to derail it with my own issue. Discussion of Neil Gaiman, fandom, and fatphobia below...

I was not a fan of Neil Gaiman. Not in a way where I disliked him, I just simply didn't engage with his work whatsoever. He was a non-entity to me. But when his big "Sandman" show came out I became aware of a certain incident in his show, namely the fatphobic depiction of the concept of "Despair". In an article about his work I remember Gaiman's characters in the source material had been described as fitting the aesthetic, "heroin chic". This character, Despair, the personification of human misery, was the only fat woman in the main cast.

I saw other fat folks call this out. I saw a direct response from him that, in my opinion, was smug and patronizing. But much more importantly, I saw flocks of people defending not his choice, but him personally. About what a feminist he is. About how thoughtful he is. We just didn't understand his genius. It was a misunderstanding. A misinterpretation. Because that would be bad, and he's not bad, he's good.

Some even went so far as to defend the choice as "better in the source material". You see, in the source material the fat woman personifying human misery was naked! It was better when she wasn't so sad, she simply scurried about like some hateful gremlin, shocking her victims with the grotesquity of her uncovered fatness. Isn't that better?

I researched the character and read a claim that her body was inspired by the Venus of Willendorf. The Venus of Willendorf is a historical artifact of a voluptuous woman. It signifies desire and fertility. Dare I even say, joy. And then someone allegedly saw this artifact and went, "I will name it Despair."

I was offended by reading that, but after doing so I found that I was so much more offended by the response. I mean, it's obvious that this was fatphobia, wasn't it? It was so clearly cut and dry. There was no kinder interpretation. And yet I watched as people bent over backwards, because he was so good! And he made them feel seen and so he couldn't have any prejudices that make that less true. And so when I posted about this whole situation I mainly posted about that response. Because that's what irked me most.

And after that, I decided I wasn't going to be a Neil Gaiman fan on purpose, rather than on accident. When it came to the man himself, I just rolled my eyes and put him into the box of "Not For Me". He could have turned out to be a holy saint in all other ways, for all I knew or cared.

But he wasn't a saint. He turned out to be a rapist.

I'm sorry if this comes across as a gotcha because that's the opposite of my intention. I'm not saying it to derail focus. I'm not trying to make it all about me or my pet cause.

What I'm trying to say is, people will now see things like Despair and take it as a "sign". It's going to be okay now to pick apart his work because now he's a rapist. But I didn't need to know he wasn't a good person to know this person's work wasn't safe for me. And I also knew it wasn't safe to say so, because everyone who tried to talk about how hurt they felt was told how wrong they were to feel that way.

At the same time, it's safe for me to finally vent about how this made me feel now, now that it doesn't matter because he's not good, he's bad actually.

I guess I'm just hoping instead of the usual pattern, where everyone bemoans the fall from grace and debates whether we "should have known" or "couldn't have known", people reading this can try to make space for a middle ground of criticism of the things you love now. Find that gray area somewhere between the top of the pedestal where everything the saint did was with the best intentions, and down in the muck where we should've known he was a rapist all along. Not because saints are secret rapists, but because there are no saints, and most people are there in the middle.

[bekkathyst]

Some insight into how my brain works

I’m working on my jewelry collection. We’ve already established the theme of this collection is going to be winter but that didn’t feel like enough. I recently watched one of my favorite movies which is the 2004 version of Phantom of the Opera. I can’t get that scene out of my head where the phantom drops a red rose in the fresh snow. Also the scene where Christine goes to her father’s grave—the statues of angels all covered in snow UGH 😫 !! So I thought what if I make this collection more specific. Way more specific. Now it’s more like a Gothic Romantic Winter with a touch of Horror collection. I start thinking about how I want to see the new Nosferatu movie. I wonder if I can look up some pictures without spoiling anything for myself? Omg this aesthetic fits so perfectly too! Now how would this translate into jewelry… I feel like anything with filigree would fit so well. But I don’t have the means to do anything that complex. Filigree is so gorgeous and lacey… lace. What if I just buy actual lace and electroform it in copper?! I wonder if anyone’s ever done that before. Omg this person on Reddit had the exact same idea and they said how it worked out for them. It’s €40 if I order those things to try it out myself. I think it’s worth the investment; this could end up being one of my best collections yet!

Anyway I can’t wait to try this out 😃

[artbyblastweave]

🔥Punisher: Last Gun on Earth?

This ask is referring to the fairly-obscure 2010 zombie apocalypse Elseworld Marvel Universe Vs The Punisher by Jonathan Maberry, as well as the two prequels following Wolverine and Hawkeye at different points in the same timeline. I've been meaning to do a more comprehensive write-up on this for quite some time, as it was a series distinct from but very visibly in conversation with Marvel Zombies, which Maberry was also peripherally involved with. The elevator pitch is that a fuckup by the Punisher during a hit on the Russian Mob results in a cold war bioweapon getting into the biosphere, eventually turning almost the entire human population, and most of the superheroes, into adrenaline-fueled 28-days-later style rage zombies. Content Warning under the cut for discussions of racism

Despite its many, many flaws, there was a lot I enjoyed about this series, and alongside Marvel Zombies it had a not-insubstantial impact on my own aesthetic sensibilities, which I think probably comes through in a lot of my zombie artwork. The first mini, Marvel Universe Vs The Punisher, is a pastiche of I am Legend, with Frank Castle in the role of Robert Neville, an infected Deadpool in the role of Neville's abnormally sentient neighbor Ben Cortman, and with a zombified Spider-Man the white whale that he's spent five years hunting through the remains of Manhattan. Before I get into the rancid shit, I'm going to talk about what I enjoyed:

While the series succumbs to all-too-common Punisher Wank in terms of his efficacy in taking down a number of the A-list infected heroes, it ultimately comes out the other side as a pretty competent piece of character work for Frank; the series is grimly aware that a virus turning most of the human population into a shooting gallery of sadistic cannibal maniacs would be something like Valhalla for Frank, regardless of his pretensions to the contrary. Moreover, it's subtly implied that Frank's belief that he's immune is incorrect, and what's actually happening is that a virus that turns you into a vindictive, dogmatic maniac with a hardwired us-or-them mindset had no effect on him because he was already like that. There are ultimately revealed to be thousands of other survivors in New York, all of whom have spent five years studiously avoiding him because they think he's batshit insane. Even zombie Spider-Man, played up as the Biggest Bad, is ultimately revealed to have retained enough humanity to protect his uninfected family the entire time, whereas Frank is ultimately painted as unrelenting genocide machine whose psychological inability to give quarter ultimately makes him worse than the infected.

From there the series extrapolated some hilarious commentary on the genre as a whole; the zombie outbreak was going on for months before reaching critical mass, and nobody noticed because the baseline levels of random street violence and superpowered brawls are already so high in these settings that nobody realized a lot of the fights were occurring for rage-virus reasons until Spider-Man killed and ate a supervillain on live television. The whole series can be viewed through the lens of the usual spectacle-bait crisis-crossover contrived-battle-between-heroes routine, distilled to its purest form and escalated to the point of Ragnarök; the art frequently deliberately obfuscates which combatants are infected and which are uninfected people fighting for their lives. In this way it's playing with the pre-existing logic of the superhero genre in a way that Marvel Zombies didn't.

Maberry knows how to use Deadpool in a supporting character role without having him eat the entire goddamn thing. It's a fun dynamic!

Unlike Marvel Zombies, which was deliberately unconcerned with logistics as part of the gonzo fever-dream aesthetic, Maberry put some actual thought into a semi-plausible model by which a zombie virus could overrun a superhero setting. The responsible mutagen is air-and-waterborne, causing people to start turning at random months after being infected rather than through bites or fluid contact, and sneaks around healing factors because the mutations it causes are parsed as improvements rather than disease symptoms. Mass swarms of infected, unpowered civilians are as relevant, if not more relevant, than the superhumans are in spreading the infection, leading in turn to a lot of Left 4 dead styled set piece co-op fights like the one depicted above, and leading to the failure state that a superhero might be able to mince human wave attacks all day but at a certain point they'll have chewed through everyone they were ostensibly protecting by doing so, even if they themselves survive. This is a dynamic that, ultimately, only Frank Castle is really capable of thriving within, because with him it was never about protecting people, just hurting "bad" ones.

Which leads to another major positive points- the series is also a lot more concerned with rendering the setting's downward spiral. Eight prequel issues depicting the superhero community going down fighting over the course of months, rather than folding like a dixie cup in a trash compactor for horror value. Dead Days is the closest that Marvel Zombies ever got to rendering that same process, and while that was a very good oneshot it was still a deliberately compact one-shot. Here you get tableau after tableau of survivors throwing down with zombies. Unlikely alliances, second-string deep-cut z-listers crawling out of the woodwork- all interspersed with the growing realization among the protagonists that this is not business as usual, the status quo is not going to hold this time, it's just the actual apocalypse.

Here's Punisher, Hawkeye, Iron Fist and Black Cat trying to hold the Holland tunnel. Here's Dr. Bong, Howard the Duck Ruby Tuesday and Hit Monkey making a last stand in Central Park. This shit unironically kicks ass! This is what I think a lot of people are gesturing at when they say that they want to see a superheroes vs zombies story.

And, on that note, if you're going to tell this kind of story, Punisher, Wolverine and Hawkeye are objectively three of the best characters to have as the viewpoint characters- precisely the right level of competence and street-level scrappiness to survive without having a prayer of turning the tables outright. "Shit, Man, this superhero war is fucked-" the comic.

One additional minor thing I enjoyed about the series, aesthetically, is that while Marvel Zombies was a deliberately anachronistic mish-mash where every character was depicted in their most visually iconic outfits from across decades of publication, This series was very specifically working with the Marvel Universe status quo circa 2010 when it was published- The X-Men in San Francisco, Red Hulk on the Avengers, now-long-forgotten Avengers Academy kids in crowd shots. It grounds the narrative in a way Marvel Zombies was deliberately avoiding, acting as a snapshot and a time capsule in a neat way.

Now onto the two big things I didn't like about this series, the latter of which sinks it really really badly:

One: Caption Cancer. Maberry is one of those authors who I like on balance but who also often lapses into Talking Just To Talk. How many times does the navel-gazey running commentary in the above excerpts double back on itself, and how much is it actually saying- particularly when contrasted with the story told by the art and dialogue alone? Either he felt a need to fill the space (bad) or worse, he thought that these were some kind of deep and compelling rumination on the human condition. In general the balance of exposition to action in this thing were.... all over the place, not always integrated gracefully. The best sequences in the book are the ones where the captions just shut the fuck up so we can watch these people clobber each other. This is not a problem the original Marvel Zombies had- one thing I like about Kirkman is that he's usually a caption minimalist, letting the art and the dialogue do the heavy lifting. You don't get a page as quiet and decompressed as the following in the entire 12 issue run of Marvel Universe Vs.

Two: It's Racist. Like, really really racist. The comic continuously lapses into extremely racist imagery with the infected, using the visual language of "primitive savage tribes" with seemingly zero awareness of the real-life groups that those tropes were used to propagandize against and dehumanize. It's one thing to have zombies that take human body parts as trophies- that's kind of a cool motif- it's quite another to have a zombified Hulk who braids his hair in an obvious caricature of Native Americans, complete with feathers. What the fuck, Maberry!

Moreover it's a comically unforced error- everything compelling happens outside of that imagery, it's adding basically nothing but an attack surface to the premise. 28 days later did this basic premise without the racism, Left 4 Dead did this basic premise without the racism, The Crazies did this basic premise without the racism, Fucking Crossed did this basic premise without using the same racist visual language, at least until after Ennis left the book. Congratulations- you found a way to make the zombies more on-the-face racially insensitive than Garth Ennis. Round of Applause, everyone. This specific issue is why I don't think I've ever brought this book up in depth unprompted, it's genuinely really gross.

Anyway, those are my unified thoughts on the Marvel Universe Vs. trilogy, hope you enjoyed.

[our-ensemble]

How else could HappyElements go about writing Ibuki?

Just a little exercise to see what else Enstars could have done with Ibuki besides what they're doing now. (This one is long!)

When it comes to putting Ibuki in another unit, its very debatable, but its not impossible. Below are just my own thoughts and I'll get into why I wrote this at the bottom.

So, units!

fine: Not the best. Writing-wise, I don't think it's impossible to fit Ibuki in... somewhere? But all in all, fine doesn't lend itself to a story that would make Ibuki's addition natural. Also, aesthetically, it doesn't seem up Ibuki's alley. While Eichi's actions in Okinawa could lead to an interesting conflict with developments for both parties which plays into real-life social issues, that depends on Enstars' ability to write it, which is currently in an unideal place. That being said, I am waiting for the day that Ibuki sues Eichi. Put your court skills to use!

Trickstar: Likely not. Again, like with fine, Trickstar's overall writing makes this difficult and unnatural. Maybe with a lot of pre-existing development where its made clear that he'll join, but otherwise, he's difficult to slot in Trickstar's current dynamic (and that's not even going into Trickstar's historical importance to its producers as being the four of them + Anzu).

Ryuseitai: Possible! Ryuseitai is currently in a directional shift + leadership shift, and Ibuki's addition plays well into this setup. Additionally, in Enstars, the pre-existing lore is that units must have 2 - 5 idols as a result of War-era imposed restrictions, and it would be interesting to see how that tidbit of worldbuilding holds up in relation to this idea. Ibuki and Tetora's interaction in Ibuki's Idol Story 2 also provides some idea of how Ibuki's inclusion would go, and the interaction also makes the inclusion less sudden. Though, if memory serves me well, he rejected being the leader of EsuPuri because it was child-like? or childish? Anyway, he might have similar concerns with Ryuseitai - or he could embrace his inner-child some more. Ibuki should watch Kamen Rider Geats.

ALKALOID: It can work! ALKALOID is in a bit of a lull writing-wise, and adding Ibuki could be just the thing to stir them up. Ibuki's personality + identity means that like each member, he is marginalized, but his narrative doesn't seem to be stepping on anyone's toes. He also seems more ambitious and energetic than the average member, which could be interesting. The points about Tetora made above also apply with Hiiro and Ibuki. However, how Ibuki would wind up in ALKALOID seems hard to determine, since they are weapons-but-not-really-anymore of StarPro. Unless Eichi takes interest in Ibuki? Plus, there are only 4 suits in a deck of cards. Guess we'll have to make up a fifth one... (Would Ibuki be "one of the kids" or would he be Tatsumi's grandchild? The world will never know...)

Eden: Highly unlikely. Unless Ibuki REALLY sweeps Ibara off his feet, its not happening. Eden also has an "it is the Four of them" atmosphere - and even if it didn't, I can't imagine Ibuki being the most comfortable in this setup. The aesthetics also aren't really for him. Maybe when you're older and more experienced, Ibuki...

2wink: How. (everything from this point on is a joke to be clear) In the twin unit? The 2 unit? Do we kick one of them out? Does Ibuki become a triplet? What's the thought process here? Where are we going from here? Is Ibuki the family therapist? Are we finally getting 3wink (thrwink... thwink...)?

Valkyrie: In Shu's words - Non. Writing-wise, this just wouldn't happen. Plus - and this really was the only way that I could word this - Valkyrie's freakisms are not for the weak of heart, and while I don't doubt Ibuki's tenacity, I'm not sure if he would want to be around these two for an extended period of time. The aesthetics also aren't tailored to him. Additionally, Shu's habit of calling Rinne a barbarian doesn't translate well here, and gets us into a situation with a lot of microaggressions and little to no resolution.

Crazy:B: There's a chance - if Lady Luck's in your favour. If any unit were to suddenly add a guy midway, it should be the rebellious unit, no? A unit that appeals to outsiders could also make Ibuki feel welcome as someone unfamiliar to Japan - or it could make him feel more isolated, but that depends on a lot of things. In their writing, Crazy:B has been focusing a lot on their interpersonal relationships lately, and Ibuki's addition might get them back into their greater theme of rebellion - or it could ruin what has been established about their interpersonal relationships, and we wind up going over the same song and dance when it comes to rebellion. Fans are also really fond of the Crazy:B dynamic now, so adding in another guy likely would not fair well. Then, same concern as ALKALOID - how would Ibuki end up here? Lady Luck'll have to be extra nice to Ibuki if he joins this unit...

UNDEAD: Hard to imagine. Honestly, I just couldn't visualize this one. In all fairness, Enstars' ability to integrate Kaoru and Adonis into UNDEAD's major arcs hasn't always been the most stable (see: HappyElements not using their names once in the original summary for UNDEAD's climax event) and Ibuki would likely get the same treatment, if not worse. Again, very hard to integrate Ibuki in writing-wise, and he would definitely be outright neglected. A shame, because while he might not be suited to UNDEAD as a unit, it's not as impossible to imagine his interactions with the individual members.

Ra*bits: Hmm... Ra*bits' recent attempts to mix "cute" and "cool" so as to stand apart from girl groups while still retaining their existing appeal gives a bit of room to work with. Ibuki's definitely a "cool" guy, so I imagine that he could teach them quite a bit - but it doesn't look like he gets much in return for now. Aesthetically, it bears for him the same problems that EsuPuri does. Again, that doesn't even go into Ra*bits as "the Four of them". Maybe if they develop a lot of interaction beforehand and clearly outline their future goal...

Knights: I have ideas (but Enstars might not)! With Esu formerly studying under Knights, do you have any idea how funny this would be? People were a bit peeved that EsuPuri and Knights had similar aesthetics, but introducting Ibuki into Knights then setting up Knights as their senpai + rival could be so fun, especially with a rivalry between Esu and Ibuki to mimic the older rivalries our protagonists had (Trickstar - fine, ALKALOID - Crazy:B). Like, the guy that dropped out of being leader, ultimately leading to you to become leader in his absence, is now singing and dancing with your senpai who are considered some of the best in the industry. Also, like with Ryuseitai, we get to poke at the worldbuilding that previously established that units cannot have more than 5 members. Please tell me you see the vision. (though I will concede that the aesthetics + goals of Knights don't scream Ibuki).

There's also something here that applies with some other units as well - which is that putting Ibuki in units where the leader is one of the younger characters in the franchise helps show off how pre-existing characters have grown. Since Enstars characters have been aged up a year 1-2 times, there's been quite a bit of growth for them, but people tend to be stuck with their impressions of when these characters were younger. EsuPuri + Ibuki can help show the growth of the younger characters by putting them into senpai positions, sometimes for the first time. So, for Knights, it means that Tsukasa would have a proper junior for the first time - which either leads to interesting developments for the Knights characters or neglect of pre-existing relationships.

Which is to say that a) we get to see Kasa-kun curbstomp a bunch of children and b) we get to see Kasa-kun realize that having an energetic junior isn't better than having energetic seniors.

Switch: Not the one. Can't really see Ibuki in this one for, as always, aesthetic and writing purposes. Additionally, SwitchPs have noticed that Sora doesn't get as much attention as the other two, which could go in two ways. 1) Ibuki and Sora become an in-unit pair akin to Natsume and Tsumugi, and their developing relationship allows them to battle this disparity in attention or 2) the lack of attention gets heightened, with either Sora, or Ibuki - or even both - being neglected.

MaM: Interesting. Madara and Ibuki both seem to be the independent type, and its noted that Madara isn't mindful of others when dancing in a group since he's used to being alone. Though, his experiences in Double Face must have changed that, and it would be interesting to see how he has changed since Double Face's creation - but if not written well, it could trivialize Double Face's history. On one hand, fans enjoy seeing Madara make friends, but on the other hand, Madara's choice of being solo has been quite the question, and Ibuki's addition might bury this worldbuilding away if not written well. It definitely has potential, but it has just as much potential to go awry. Ibuki could be Madara's lawyer instead I guess.

Solo: HappyElements, hire me and I will raise you to levels you could never fathom!

They could have made a whole show of it! Have Ibuki go from unit to unit where he's their understudy for the duration of the event and have him assess whether or not he wants to join! This would tie into the junior system in J-POP where idols pre-debut usually become backup dancers for other units, going on to do interviews, songs and other things to build up a reputation before debuting and using their now established fanbase to make a lot of dough! It would tie in so well to the idol-like direction that HappyElements is taking with 4piece!

It could have been such a grand event! Have them build up the hype over time, show off the pros and cons that Ibuki sees in joining a unit, and then when the time comes to announce his decision after months, maybe even years in real-life - pull the rug out from under everyone and have him go solo! And since going solo isn't allowed in-universe, have them confront the War-era rules that continue to affect idols! Let Ibuki challenge the idol rules that Eichi once established and mess with the system!

And if he were rivals with Esu? Imagine if he outperforms EsuPuri as a solo idol - that's gotta be a hit to Esu as a leader... Man...

and AKATSUKI...

The new AKATSUKI could have been "an idea of Japan that represents everyone" which acknowledges those beyond the Yamato. It could have recognized the diversity in Japan, and allowed for the "idea" of Japan to no longer be dominated by the majority - a unit that respects the people of Japan who are normally forgotten. An AKATSUKI were Ibuki's traditions are celebrated, not chiseled down.

Instead, Ibuki is being absorbed into "the traditional Japan" - a very different scenario from the above.

That's all from me. I have a little extra info below for the curious.

Why write this? It's not really related to your blog...?

Fair question. But for one, I think that we forget that writing is a part of HappyElements' problem of discrimination (but just one part). As people have mentioned for years with Adonis, its pretty clear that the message is that racism is bad - its just that in their writing, HappyElements reinforces the racism that it claims to be against, thus pitting themselves against their own message.

This is only exemplified more in the recent AKATSUKI event, but what I really want to address is fan reactions.

There's a bit of a rift growing now, particularly with AKATSUKIPs and IbukiPs

"If you were a real AKATSUKI fan, you would still recognize and support them as four."

"AKATSUKI is only ever three, the AKATSUKI with Ibuki in it is not who I grew to love."

"AKATSUKI fans are being so rude - there is no problem with Ibuki joining, and he deserves to be in a unit."

"Ibuki shouldn't be in this unit, and it hurts for me as his producer to see him here."

But here's the thing:

Fans are not the ones who created this situation, so why are they blaming each other?

Enstars did not write a good event for either AKATSUKI or Ibuki, frankly speaking. Even if you remove every incident of racism from Enstars, the writing quality is still bad. Even if the writing quality was good in this event, it would not change the imperialistic tones.

But this is not a dichotomy - HappyElements doesn't have to choose between making either AKATSUKIPs happy or IbukiPs happy. It could have written anything else, as I've demonstrated in my writing exercise above. Some fans have been theorizing about other units Ibuki could join, and some are rather amenable to Ibuki joining their own favorites! HappyElements chose the most divisive decision, sullied further by a slew of problems.

When the song Tenshou KAGETSU was first released, prior to the story release, there was a common sentiment in the comments:

"Let's hope for an event that will make us both [AKATSUKIP and IbukiP] happy!"

And their hopes weren't misplaced. It was more than possible.

HappyElements' choice is what made it impossible.

[pamwritessometimes]

The Great Invasion: Chapter 2

Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: In a world turned upside down, where monsters hunt and hunters are the prey, Y/N must choose: follow the new rules to stay alive or join a rogue band of hunters determined to reclaim power and change the game for good.

General warnings: dark themes, gore, kind of apocalyptic vibes, language.

Chapter warnings: slight sexual innuendos, depression, ridiculous ghost talk, having dark flashbacks

Theme song of the chapter: Don't Ask Me No Questions by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Set after season 15.

Somewhat canon-divergent.

Catch up on Chapter 1 here

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: I Just Want A Little Peace Of Mind

This was… not as nice as the Mandarin Oriental. In fact, everything felt outdated and dusty, and the black satin pajama set you were kidnapped in didn’t help you feel any better — it just reminded you of the rapid downhill ride your life was taking. It was something you thought wasn’t even possible:

Everything to get worse.

The room that Castiel guy led you to was smaller than the bathroom of your last suite. While you were used to these kinds of digs back when you were a hunter, being the legendary champion of the First and Second Hunter Games had spoiled you with the perks of luxury. 

And not to mention that with that, you got another room that wasn’t quite yours.

Before you slammed the door in his face, Castiel mentioned that this room was one of the last available in the bunker. Apparently, they’d tried to clean it out, but some things from the previous owner stuck around thanks to the lack of storage space elsewhere.

A bunker. You were stuck in a goddamn bunker.

What a twist! Not only were you trapped in a completely unfamiliar place with strange people and the ex-Queen of Hell, but now you were a hunted target. Barbas wasn’t the type to let things slide.

It had been a couple of days now since you arrived, you assumed. You could hear chatter and occasional movements from other parts of the building, which you figured must be the other hunters Rowena had mentioned.

But somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the sturdy walls of your room. You didn’t want to face anyone out there, knowing they’d remind you of how you ended up here in the first place, something you never even wanted.

After a day or two of letting your anger fester, you decided enough was enough. Truth be told, boredom was starting to take over. The room didn’t offer much in the way of entertainment. You could work out — a habit that seemed to stick with you even after your captivity…though, to you, this also felt like captivity. 

Still, that didn’t exactly fill up the day.

So, you decided to search the room. Castiel’s words about a previous owner stuck with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to them. Maybe sifting through the remnants of their stuff would give you some answers… and it might keep you busy for a bit, too.

Boredom and a healthy dose of curiosity got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were rooting through the various storage boxes you’d found tucked away in the corner of the room. They were a mix of old files, random junk, and a few forgotten knick-knacks that looked like they hadn’t seen the light of day in years. You came across a huge stash of R rated magazines, too.

Great.

Then, you stumbled across a stash of clothes that definitely screamed menswear, which now wasn’t much of a surprise to you: old tees, button-ups, and pajama pants that looked like they’d been on a permanent sabbatical from their glory days. Still, they fit the bunker aesthetic far better than your matching set, which was starting to feel like a bit much for this apocalypse-chic vibe. With a reluctant sigh and a ‘why the hell not?’ shrug, you decided to give it a go.

lThe pants were a nonstarter; they dragged behind you like a sad and worn wedding train, so you stuck with your own. But the flannel? Now that was a surprise. It hung loosely on you, the sleeves comically long, but there was something almost charming about it. And nothing a little roll-up sleeve couldn’t fix. The fabric was soft from years of wear, frayed at the cuffs in a way that made it feel like it had lived a hundred lives before landing on your shoulders.

What really sold you, though, was the smell. Despite their worn appearance, the clothes carried a faint, lingering fragrance, woodsy, warm, and somehow very comforting. Whatever its origin, it was soothing enough in this apocalyptic time to convince you the flannel was a keeper.

After your little bunker chic makeover moment, one box caught your eye. It was a bit more organized than the rest, filled with neatly stacked tape cassettes. Most of them were unlabeled, but one tape stood out. The label on it read: 

Dean’s Car Shaking Traxx

Well, that was… something.

Curious, you pried the tape from its resting place and noticed something odd as well: a tape player sitting smugly at the bottom of the box. A little old-fashioned, sure, but it was there. And, lo and behold, there was a set of headphones too, though slightly frayed at the edges but still in one piece. 

They both seemed to be in working condition.

You hadn’t heard any music in what felt like forever, not since Hell decided to make Earth its vacation spot. What was the last time you actually listened to songs for the sheer enjoyment of it? Probably it was with your dad before the Invasion. He used to take you out to concerts, your favorite bands, his favorite bands, on weekends. That tradition started when you turned sixteen, and he surprised you with tickets to an Aerosmith show. It became a regular thing, a tradition you kept up for years until—

You shook the thought away, eager for something that would make you feel normal, even if it was just for a few minutes. 

You plugged in the tape, set the headphones over your ears, and hit play.

“Well, Dean, please don’t be a country guy” you muttered, glancing down at the flannel you were wearing.

The first few chords kicked in, and you couldn’t help but smile.

CCR. 

Up Around The Bend.

You leaned back and thought the tape was crackling slightly, it didn’t matter and you didn’t care. For a moment, you could almost pretend the world hadn’t turned upside down and fish yourself a little piece of peace.

Castiel walked up and down the hallway, clearly waiting for someone. Every now and then, he'd glance at the different rooms and areas in the bunker.

The library was full of hunters, some reading lore books, others chatting casually. A few stayed in their rooms, likely dealing with their own thoughts — that he understood. None of them signed up for this. Others were at the shooting range, either to train for whatever came next or to numb their nerves about the whole situation, the sound of gunshots a clear indicator of it.

He had been running the bunker alone for what felt like ages. Jack was supposed to be back by now, and yet here he was, walking holes into the floor of the building. If he were human, his feet would’ve been screaming by now.

Suddenly, he froze. A familiar voice hit his ears coming from the hall from the west side of the building.

“No, no, explain it to me again” Dean’s voice rang out, equal parts frustrated and confused. “What do you mean Hell invaded Earth? How the hell does that even happen? And where the hell was Rowena—?”

Another voice, Jack’s this time, came. “I told you, Dean. Demons came up earthside, unleashing every monster they could find.”

"When did that even happen?” Sam asked, the confusion clear in his voice.

Castiel took a deep breath and started walking towards them, dreading two facts: one, it’d been Jack knows how long since he met the Winchesters; and two, it seems Kid God didn’t brief them in entirely.

It wasn’t necessarily the reunion he once hoped for.

He rounded the corner, and there they were. Dean, leaning against a table, rubbing his face as if he could somehow erase the last few hours from his brain. Sam, on the other hand, was pacing the room like a human tornado, clearly trying to solve a puzzle that was missing half its pieces and the other half was written in hieroglyphics.

Both of them looked… well, confused and mildly pissed, to put it lightly. But honestly, who wouldn’t be? Their perpetual, much-deserved heavenly nap had been rudely interrupted by yet another apocalypse. They’d dealt with more end-of-the-world scenarios than any human ever should, and now, it seemed they couldn’t even catch a break in the afterlife.

But the second they saw their long-time-no-see friend, everything seemed to stop. Time hung for a beat.

Dean blinked as he caught the eyes of the blue-eyed angel.

"Cas?" his voice cracked slightly, his lips twitching into a genuine smile.

Sam’s face softened too, once he glanced at his old friend.

Dean took a step forward, pulling him into a tight hug. Then, Sam wrapped his arms around both of them, the three of them standing there for a moment in a rare moment of peace. Like the world wasn’t crumbling outside, like there wasn’t a bloody, chaotic mess waiting to tear them apart.

Castiel smiled, a strange nostalgia creeping through his perpetual mind. 

Yet, he cleared his throat as he reluctantly pulled away. "It’s good to see you again, too" His gaze flicked from Dean to Sam. "Though I wish it was in a better situation. I'm sorry we had to interrupt your Heaven. But the world... it’s in chaos. Hell’s on Earth, literally."

Dean pulled back slightly, his grin fading into a more serious expression. "Yeah, I figured this wasn’t gonna be all hugs and ‘how’s afterlife’. Can’t even let a guy rest in goddamn peace."

Then, Jack turned to Cas. “Was everything alright while I was gone?”

The angel nodded, then added, “Rowena’s back as well.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “She brought her, too.”

Jack's smile widened a little as he processed the news. 

“That’s good” He then turned to Sam and Dean with a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Come on. I want you to meet everyone here.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “Everyone?” he echoed, sharing a quick glance with Dean before the two followed Jack toward the war room.

As they entered the room, the on-going conversation quieted and was replaced by the weight of at least a couple dozen curious stares, all pointing to their direction. Hunters of all kinds were scattered around the room. Some were fairly young, almost teens, a few of them older, battle-worn and their expressions ranged from intrigued to wary, all fixed on the newcomers.

Dean furrowed his brows, his gaze sweeping the crowd. Despite the enormous size of the bunker, the room suddenly felt suffocatingly small. It reminded him of the time they offered their home to the refugees from Apocalypse World — except now, it wasn’t just a handful of people.  This was at least three times that number, maybe more.

He glanced and Sam and then muttered, “Guess we missed the memo about this place turning into Grand Central Hunter Station.”

Sam pointed a glare at him, then turned to Jack. “So… what are we facing here, again?”

Guns N’ Roses blasted through your headphones, drowning out every thought except the music. You made it your mission to listen to every cassette tape you found in the boxes. By the time you hit cassette number three’s flip side, the music was doing its job at making you feel a bit calmer a little too well. Your eyelids got heavier with every riff and before you knew it, you’d dozed off against the headboard. 

The music was loud enough to block out the creak of the door opening, but not the voice that followed.

“Why’s there a chick in my room?” a gruff voice demanded. A pause. Then louder, like the words were physically offensive: “Listening to my damn tapes? Wearing my damn clothes?”

Maybe that last part didn’t bother him as much as the rest, though he wasn’t about to admit it. He was too busy scowling and reminding himself that this room, his room, was supposed to be his sanctuary. Instead, here you were, in his flannel, looking entirely too cozy and he woudln't admit it out loud, but also borderline irresistible for someone squatting in his space.

Or was this Jack’s way of saying, Sorry I yanked you out of Heaven, but hey, thanks for agreeing to help me clean up yet another apocalyptic mess!?

Because if so—

But before Dean could spiral further, you jolted awake at his raised tone. Your heart pounded as your survival instincts kicked in. Adrenaline surged and without fully registering who or what you were looking at, you lunged your fists.

“Whoa!” Dean yelped, stumbling back as your fist connected with his chest. He rubbed the spot but barely flinched, barely feeling anything. It was more the act that bothered him. “What the hell was that for?”

Your breath hitched as you glared at him, still half-asleep and wildly defensive. “Who the hell are you, and why are you in my room?”

“Your room?!” Dean repeated, incredulous. “Lady, this is my—” He didn’t finish before you aimed a swift kick at his shin.

Dean sighed, though it was clear he wasn’t actually hurt. “Okay, seriously, what is your deal?”

“My deal?!” You shot back, breathless and still glaring. “You’re the one creeping around in my room, touching my tapes!”

Dean stopped mid-reach for his cassette player, looking at you with a frown.

“Touching your—?” Dean sputtered, clearly at a loss. “This is literally my room, and you’re wearing my—”

Before things escalated further and you could throw another useless punch in his direction, a firm hand landed on your shoulder.

“Y/N” Castiel’s voice cut in, calm and steady. “This is Dean Winchester. He is, technically, the original owner of this room... and much of what’s in it.”

Your brain paused mid-comeback. You glanced at the man, Dean, then down at the flannel you were wearing, and finally at the stack of tapes you’d been working through.

Wait. This guy made those awesome tapes? This is the guy whose flannel I’m wearing?

Dean didn’t miss the realization dawning on your face.

“Yeah” he said dryly, crossing his arms. “That’s my flannel. And my tapes. And my room.”

Castiel sighed, already sensing the incoming argument. “Dean” he said flatly. “you died.”

Dean turned to him. “Yeah, well, guess what, Cas? I’m back.”

“Technically…”

Dean’s frown deepened. “What?”

“Technically” Castiel continued, “you’re not back in the way you used to be. You’re a spirit now, Dean. You don’t need sleep, which means you don’t need a room.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “‘Scuse me?”

You finally found your voice again, snapping your attention to Castiel. “Wait, wait, what the hell do you mean he died?”

“Y/N—” Castiel started, but you weren’t done.

“No, seriously, what the hell?” you repeated, panic and confusion rising. “Are you saying he’s a ghost? Or, like, a demon or something? How the hell did he even get in here?”

“He is not a demon” Castiel said, cutting you off. “And he’s here because Jack brought him back.”

“Am I supposed to know who this Jack guy is? And why are you saying he ‘brought him back’ like that’s supposed to make this sound less insane?”

Dean threw his hands up in the air, clearly done with you, starting to pace the room. "Great. How is she supposed to be a part of this team if she doesn’t even know who Jack is? Does she even know our lore?” He shot a glance at Castiel, as if begging for some backup, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Do you know my lore?” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How about the fact that I literally crawled out of the deepest pits of demon's hell just to survive, and now I'm stuck in this insane supernatural soap opera? Pretty sure I didn’t sign up for this mess.”

Dean stopped pacing and turned to face you. “Listen, princess, I’m not exactly thrilled about this either, but guess what? The world’s ending. Again. And we don’t have time for your pity party.”

“Oh, princess? Real original, flannel boy” you fired back, stepping even closer, toe-to-toe now. “You think you’re so high and mighty because you’ve been doing this longer? Look where it got you! And mewsflash: your tapes aren’t that good.”

Alright, that last part was just you being pity.

Dean gasped like you’d just kicked his puppy. “Not that good?!”

“That’s right, you heard it.”

“You’ve got a big mouth, you know that?”

“And you’ve got a big ego” you snapped back, your pulse inexplicably speeding up as you met his fiery gaze. Up close, you could see the freckles dusted across his face and the slight dots in his green irises, and the way his upper lip curved into a perfect cupid bow. You weren’t sure if you wanted to smack him or just—

“Enough” Castiel interjected, his tone like a bucket of ice cold water thrown on fire. He stepped between the two of you, looking like a frustrated parent breaking up a sibling fight.

Dean and you both took a step back, muttering under your breaths.

“Y/N” Castiel began, his blue eyes meeting yours, his voice calm but firm. “You need to understand. Jack isn’t just anyone. He… well…Jack is… essentially God. Or, at least, the closest thing to God we have now.”

You blinked at him while his words were bouncing around your brain like pinballs. “Wait, what?”

“He’s God” Dean said bluntly, clearly enjoying your disbelief. “The big man upstairs took early retirement for being a shithead, and Jack stepped in to take over. He’s the one keeping this whole crapshow from falling apart.” Dean then leaned toward Castiel, loudly whispering, “So, I’m guessing she also doesn’t know he’s Lucifer’s kid?”

Your eyes shot to Castiel, disbelief written all over your face. “Lucifer’s kid?”

Cas nodded.

“Let me just repeat: wait, WHAT?” You threw your hands up, pacing a small, frustrated circle before spinning back to face them. “So, let me get this straight. Ghost-boy over here” you jabbed a finger at Dean, “is somehow back because the world’s new Devil-God hybrid thought it was a good idea?”

Dean crossed his arms and looked rrather affronted. “Ghost-boy? Seriously?”

“Jack’s not the devil” Castiel said, voice steady and soothing like he was talking to a toddler. “Far from it. He’s actually the one who fixed what Chuck, uh, the former god, broke.”

You let out a slow, sarcastic chuckle. “Oh, sure. The perfect way to fix God’s mess: The Devil’s spawn. Makes total sense.”

Dean let out an exasperated groan. “Alright, you are just impossible.”

“And you are dead” you shot back. “So maybe take a seat, Flannel Casper.”

Dean let out a dry laugh, the kind that oozed disbelief. “Flannel Casper? Oh, that’s real funny. Guess what, sweetheart? This ain’t your room. It’s mine. You’re the squatter wearing my shirt.”

You shot him a glare, tugging the oversized shirt tighter around you. “Well, maybe you should’ve labeled it before you kicked the bucket, Flannel Casper.”

“I swear, if you call me that one more time—”

“What? You gonna haunt me harder?”

“I’m resurrected, not haunting” Dean corrected. “And as much as I’m loving this little spat, Cas is right. Jack’s the real deal. He’s a kid with God-level powers trying to fix what’s broken. Cut him some slack.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving Dean an unimpressed look. “And how’s that working out? Because from where I’m standing, the world’s still a total dumpster fire.”

Castiel sighed deeply, his expression softening a little, clearly happy Dean is at least trying to calm you down now. “We know. We all know. But that’s why we’re here, trying to fix it.” He gave a quick glance toward Dean before turning back to you. “Look, we’re not asking you to like it. Just to… cooperate.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “There’s a meeting tonight at six in the war room. It’s just down the hall.We’d like you to join us.”

He then glanced at Dean and nodded toward the door, silently asking him to lead himself out and let you weigh his words. He sighed, but complied nevertheless.

You narrowed your eyes at his back as he left, but you had to admit, something about the whole situation made you curious. You glanced at Castiel, who was still standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Do we really have God in this bunker?” you asked, finally breaking the silence.

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes. Jack’s on our side. In fact, he’s the one who organized this.”

Your gaze fell to the floor, shaking your head slightly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me" you mumbled in disbelief.

"Believe me, I'm bad at kidding."

He then turned to leave but paused at the door.

“We’ll be in the war room at six. Think about it.”

And with that, he was gone. You leaned back against the door, arms crossed, your mind a whirlwind of frustration, disbelief, and a healthy dose of curiosity.

God-level powers. Devil’s kid. The Great Invasion. It all felt like you were stuck in the worst kind of fever dream. You couldn't decide if you wanted to scream, cry, or run. Or maybe all three.

By six p.m., the war room was packed. Well, almost packed.

You, of course, were missing.

It was the first official meeting for the hunters living in the bunker. Some had been here for over a year, while others had only recently joined. They’d all arrived, courtesy of Castiel, Jack, or whatever angel Jack had managed to charm into playing cosmic Uber. Some unlucky souls, like you, were recruited, or more like brought here without their consent by Rowena. At first, the whole thing had been met with skepticism. And who could blame them? An underground bunker full of demon traps seemed too good to be true. But, given that hunters were now the ones being hunted, this was their best shot at survival.

And now, with you and the Winchesters finally being dragged into the fold, the recruitment process was officially over. They’d rounded up every hunter in sight. The team was complete and now, it was time to figure out what the hell came next.

But none of that really mattered to you. You were currently in your room, headphones in, pretending that a meeting about saving the world was the last thing on your to-do list. Who needs that noise when you could be busy being a reluctant background character in their season finale of Apocalypse: Part 230?

You leaned back in your chair, giving the ceiling a long, judgmental stare. Maybe you’d just sleep through the whole thing. It’s not like you were going to be much help. And honestly, your bed was giving off some serious come lay down and avoid your responsibilities vibes. A good ten hours of sleep sounded like just the thing to get you through the next apocalypse.

Your body, however, had other ideas. Four days of solid room service (courtesy of mystery snack fairy) had only fueled your inner hermit, and the clock on your nightstand didn’t lie: you were starving. You had no intention of facing the others, though.

So, for now, you'd been making it work. Snacks magically appeared at your door. Just a knock, and then bam. A tray of food, like some weird, celestial version of Grubhub. You’d never figured out who was behind it, but you were grateful, even if you missed Rommer's presence sometimes and the meals he brought.

Today, however, there was no knock. No food. No magical snack delivery.

You glanced at the clock again. Six ten.

Your stomach grumbled in protest. Fine. Maybe you’d have to venture out and loot some food yourself. At least with everyone at that meeting Castiel was blabbering about, you might have a shot at swiping something before anyone noticed.

You sighed, dramatically flopping your feet onto the cold concrete floor and headed out of the room.

“This place is like a goddamn maze” you muttered as you wandered down the hallway.

You’d been wandering for what felt like hours, but only was probably a solid five minutes, trying to remember whether you’d just passed the same door for the third time or if you’d entered some cruel parallel dimension where all hallways looked suspiciously identical. At the end of your latest path, you spotted one lonely doorway, and figured, why not?

You stepped into the threshold, but then froze.

And you’d probably still be standing there, wondering what cruel joke the universe had played on you, if not for the fact that what you found on the other side was, well... a bit of a shock.

The room in front of you was packed.

Your eyes scanned the scene: hunters of all shapes, sizes, and moods. Some looked like they had been at it for decades, their faces as hard as their weapons. Others looked more like they were holding on to whatever shred of humanity was left in a world gone to hell. 

So I guess I found the war room, you thought sarcastically.

Your brain had no idea what to do with this. This was the first time you’d stepped out of your room. This was the first time you were actually face-to-face with any of them. Well, all of them.

They were looking back at you, and that, for some reason, scared the shit out of you.

“Is that—” A voice whispered from across the room.

“What the hell is she doing here?” another one piped up, followed by a chuckle laced with disbelief.

“She can’t kiss demons’ asses out of death here” someone else muttered.

Well, isn’t that just peachy? Your reputation had clearly made the rounds before you even had the chance to make an entrance. Perfect.

You had this gut feeling, the kind that whispered, Stay in your room. Don’t go. It’s not worth it. And damn, how you wished you’d listened to it. But hunger had a way of overriding any form of common sense, and now here you were, in the lion’s den.

You clenched your jaw, every fiber of your being screaming at you to turn around and retreat back to your room, where the worst you’d have to face was your own reflection. But instead, you planted your feet firmly in place, squared your shoulders and made an unspoken promise to yourself that you were not going to let their words get to you. You were better than that, right?

Or at the very least you could look like you didn’t care.

The whispers grew louder, the judgment palpable as more people recognized you. A few hunters exchanged glances so loud, they might as well have been shouting.

“She’s gonna get us all killed.”

“Should’ve left her out there where she belongs.”

Nice. A real welcoming crowd.

Dean, sitting at the table and clearly having a moment of ‘where the hell did all this drama come from,’ glanced over at you. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he somehow saw through the tough act you were putting on. Beneath all that bravado, he could see the raw and jagged edges of hurt just begging to break free.

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, Dean couldn’t help himself. He turned to Castiel with a mischievous smirk, his voice was dripping with curiosity about you. 

"So, room squatter’s real popular here, huh? What’d they mean she can’t kiss demons’ asses out here?"

“It’s… complicated” the angel replied, just realizing Dean is still a bit behind on this whole story. “She, uh, she won the Hunter Games twice.”

Dean squinted, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait, that teen novel from the 2010s? With the guy with the bread name?”

Cas rolled his eyes with a quiet, almost exasperated sigh. “No. Not that. It’s a game demons set up for hunters they capture. They… They fight for their lives in an arena against monsters. And she was very favored by the monster crowd.”

Dean’s face contorted, his brain clearly still struggling to process the concept of Hunter Games, but he kept his mouth shut. His attention shifted back to you, standing there like a lion tamer on the edge of snapping.

Stubborn. Broken. Probably both at once.

It finally clicked. You weren’t just some random face in the room. You’d been through hell. Literally. No wonder the anger radiated off you like a force field. You’d been fighting demons for who knows how long. And now, here you were, in a room full of strangers judging you without even trying to understand you.

You opened your mouth to say something about maybe just finding the kitchen (if this place even had one), but before you could get the words out, you were cut off.

“Welcome! You can take a seat, if you’d like to” Jack offered you an encouraging nod.

For a split second, you froze, staring at the guy like you were trying to solve a riddle. Was this guy, with the warm smile and the kind eyes, really God and Lucifer’s kid? 

And if this kid was truly God… Should you bow? Kneel? Say Hallelujah? Maybe throw in a spontaneous hymn for good measure? You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for meeting a divine offspring, but your instincts were telling you that flinging yourself on the floor wasn’t exactly the best approach.

So, you did the only reasonable thing. You followed his simple instructions.

Your feet felt like lead as you stepped into the room, the stares burning into your back even without you actually seeing them. You spotted an empty chair near the edge of the group, far enough from the center of attention but close enough to hear whatever grand plan they were about to lay out.

As you slid into the chair, someone across the table muttered just loud enough to be heard “Hope she doesn’t screw things up.”

Without missing a beat, you shot back.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave the screwing up to you.”

A few hunters snickered, and the guy who’d spoken, Joe as you later learned, glared at you like he was about to unleash some righteous indignation but ultimately decided against it.

Smart choice.

Dean leaned toward Sam with a smirk. “Feisty. I like it.”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered under his breath, “Can we focus, please? Wait…” His eyes narrowed as he glanced at you. “Is that your shirt she’s wearing?”

Dean grinned like a kid caught stealing cookies. “Hot, innit?”

Sam facepalmed, but before the verbal sparring could go any further, Jack stepped in.

“Thank you all for coming to this meeting. Some of you may know me, but for the newcomers, my name’s Jack” he said, his eyes sweeping across the room. “We’re here because this is it. Hell’s armies are growing stronger every day, and we’re running out of time. We have to find a way to stop them before they overwhelm us completely.”

Dean, now leaning forward with his elbows on the table, raised an eyebrow. “Alright. What’s the play? Because I’m guessing you didn’t pull us all together just to give us a ‘rah-rah, go team’ speech.”

Jack gave a faint smile but didn’t lose his serious tone. “As you all know, Hell revolted against Rowena’s new leadership. They didn’t like her reforms, making Hell less about eternal suffering and more about, well… governance.”

Your brows furrowed. 

Wait a damn minute. 

That didn’t match what you’d been told at all. Alright, demons weren’t exactly known for their honesty, but if what Kid God was saying was true, then Rowena’s leadership wasn’t the tyrannical nightmare you’d been led to believe.

Was she… not as bad as Barbas and his demon cronies had painted her?

“Every revolution has a leader” Sam said, clearly still piecing the Great Invasion together in his head. “Who led the uprising?”

“It was a demon named Malgathor.” 

The name poked at your brain just a bit, nagging like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Malgathor. You’d heard that name before. But where?

Before you could follow the thread, it hit you — a sharp and searing pain flashing into and through your skull, so sudden and intense it felt like someone was trying to peel your brain apart from the inside with a crowbar.

Your hands shot to your temples as you squeezed your eyes shut and that’s when you saw it.

A dimly lit room. Fancy but not ostentatious. Mandarin Oriental vibes, but more… utilitarian. Probably somewhere in its basement.

You were sitting in a chair, restrained. Across the room, faceless figures moved, one stepping closer. There was something about him that sent a chill crawling up your spine and you instinctively started to tremble.

And then, a voice.

“Hey!” the figure shouted. Harsh, commanding. “Hey! Are you okay?!”

But the voice twisted as the vision fractured, morphing into something softer. Female.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

You blinked hard, the image shattering like glass as reality crashed back in. The dim light was gone, replaced by the suddenly too bright fluorescents of the bunker. Dozens of eyes were on you, their expressions ranging from concern to confusion.

A blonde woman had her hand on your shoulder. “You okay there?” she asked, her voice cautious, like she was afraid you might snap at any moment.

You swallowed hard.

What the hell just happened?

You straightened, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine” you muttered, though you were acutely aware of how not fine you looked. Your face was pale, your hands trembling like you’d downed five espressos too many.

Dean’s eyed you from the other side of the table. “Fine? You just looked like someone plugged your brain into a car battery. That doesn’t scream fine to me.”

You shot him a look, equal parts defiant and exhausted. “Where were we?”

Dean frowned, clearly unsettled by your lack of snark. No witty comeback? No biting remark? That wasn’t you, not like he knew much about what was you. But if he learned anything from his one encounter with you was that you never shut up. His eyes stayed focused on you a moment longer and he couldn’t help but catch the slight tremor in your hands that you thought you were hiding so well.

Before he could press further, Sam shifted the focus. “Malgathor?” he said, his brows knitting together in thought. “How come we’ve never heard about him before?”

“Because he liked Fergus’ version of Hell” Rowena’s Scottish accent chimed in.

Your gaze flicked to her and your eyes narrowed instinctively. Something about her perfect red curls and sharply lined crimson lips rubbed you the wrong way, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. But then Jack’s words about her earlier came rushing back. Nobody else in the room seemed suspicious. Hell, they barely batted an eye at her presence.

Was it possible… she wasn’t the villain you’d been led to believe?

“Malgathor had no interest in causing trouble before. Fergus, for all his flaws, kept Hell… predictable. Contracts, misery, order. But when I took over and began implementing reforms, he turned on me. Violently.”

“Reforms?” you asked before you could stop yourself, the word tasting strange in your mouth. “What kind of reforms are we talking about here?”

Rowena’s eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, her expression softened. “I ended crossroads deals, stopped the eternal suffering racket, gave the damned something resembling purpose. Needless to say, it didn’t sit well with the traditionalists.”

You blinked, your brain working overtime to reconcile this version of her with the one you’d been told about by the demons who’d dragged you through hell. Had they lied? Twisted the truth? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“So” Dean said, his voice drawing everyone back. “This Malgathor guy was all-in on the Crowley’s Hell playbook, huh? Contracts, fire, long-ass lines, the whole nine yards?”

“Precisely, dear” Rowena replied, her lips curling into a grim line. “Only now, he’s expanded his vision. No longer content with Hell as it was, he’s decided to extend its boundaries. Permanently.”

Sam straightened, his brow furrowing. “You mean… he’s trying to bring Hell topside?”

Rowena nodded. 

“Not just bring it topside, Samuel. Recreate it. The whole planet, one giant pit of eternal torment, chaos, and misery. He’s determined to make Earth Hell’s crowning jewel — greater than it ever was below.”

You sat back, watching the pieces click into place for everyone else, but your mind was spinning in a different direction. Malgathor’s plan sounded insane, sure, but it also felt oddly familiar. Like you’d heard of something similar before.

“What’s the plan, then?” Dean asked, breaking the tense silence. “How do we stop this Hell wannabe dictator?”

Jack finally spoke. “We need to find his residence. He’s cloaking himself with magic strong enough to evade even me.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Even you? Aren’t you, like, God 2.0? Shouldn’t that come with a built-in demon GPS?”

“It’s not that easy, Dean” Jack said simply, then turned to you. “I may not have the means to find him… but someone might have heard something about him.”

You froze. The sudden shift in attention made your skin crawl. “Oh, no” you muttered, holding up a hand that was still trembling just a little. “Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea who this Malgathor is.”

Joe, that hunter guy from earlier shot his eyebrow up. “Oh, come on, champ. You’ve been cozying up to demons for how long? You’re telling me not one of them dropped Malgathor’s name during happy hour?”

“Cozying up to demons? Is that what we’re calling ‘being tortured and barely surviving’ now?” you snapped at him.

Sam’s eyes flicked between you and Joe, sensing the brewing storm. “Okay, let’s all just—”

“No” Joe cut him off, leaning forward with a smug look on his face and his arms crossed. “I’m serious. If anyone here knows anything about Hell’s A-list psychos, it’s her.”

“Wow, thanks” you shot back, voice laced with venom. “Really nice to know my trauma has made me your go-to demon Rolodex.”

Dean muttered a low, amused yikes under his breath, but Joe either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

Rowena cleared her throat. 

“Perhaps, instead of bickering like children, we could ask the right questions.” Her gaze landed on Joe then softened as it moved to you. It seemed uncharacteristic of her and infuriatingly annoying to you. “Y/N, dear, I understand you’ve been through… well, hell. But even the tiniest scrap of memory could make all the difference.”

“I said” you repeated and drew each word out slowly and sharper than a demon blade. “I. Don’t. Know.”

And with that, you decided this conversation was over.

Next on The Great Invasion (Sneak Peek from Chapter 3):

He picked up the silky fabric that you immediately recognized as your pajama top from earlier. “Except for this. Didn’t take you for a fancy PJ girl… But I gotta admit, this looks nice.”

But my shirt looks better on you, he thought, as he placed the black satin on the chair next to you.

“Dean… I swear, if you don’t get the hell out of here—”

Instinctively, your hand shot under the bed, grabbing the box of rock salt you’d stashed there for just such occasions.

“Woah, no need to get antsy” he said, moving his hands up in surrender.

You chuckled, glancing at the salt in your hand with a wicked smirk. “Wait, does this really work on you?” You raised an eyebrow.

Hey, you! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Looking fantastic in his shirt. 😉

All jokes aside, I hope you had fun reading Chapter 2 of The Great Invasion. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 3: coming soon!

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@roseblue373

[xoxorealitygalore]

Nasty Dancer II

Summary: Due to her unyielding confidence, Aphrodite earns her spot on the main roster, becoming The Bloodline's manager — or rather, Sefa's Special Counsel. His Wisewoman. But can she maintain her bold, unapologetic style when faced with her greatest challenge yet: working alongside her ex-boyfriend?

Trigger Warning: Miscarriage

This chapter discusses topics related to miscarriage. Please take care of yourself and proceed with caution if this is a sensitive subject for you.

Taglist: @xbriexx @christinabae

Previous: Chapter One

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noitsreallyaphrodite Ma said go after everything fearlessly and take no shit! The mission continues😤🤞🏽💗💎✨

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The days that followed seemed like a blur to Aphrodite. She spent hours in meetings with Paul, Joe, and the creative team, meticulously building her new character as the wise woman of The Bloodline, a role that demanded an intricate balance of strength and vulnerability.

The process of designing her wardrobe was an even more elaborate affair—clothing that spoke to her power, her wisdom, and yet, a part of her that had always been deeply tied to her femininity. But beyond the logistical and aesthetic decisions, the most demanding part of all was her constant need to be in contact with Joseph.

She hadn’t expected the flood of emotions that rushed back the closer she got to him again. After everything they had been through—the heartbreak, the separation, the years of silence—there was no denying the lingering connection between them. Working with Joseph was not easy. Their history hung in the air, a weight neither of them could fully shake off, no matter how professional they tried to be.

Every time their eyes met, Aphrodite was reminded of everything they had once shared, everything they had lost. It wasn’t just a matter of being exes—Joseph was the one she had once thought was her soulmate. The man she had imagined her future with, the father of her children. And now, here they were, sharing space, working together, but carrying the weight of a past neither of them could forget.

“Hey, you got this, Dottie,” Joe's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she had been staring at the floor, lost in her emotions again. His presence was always comforting, and grounding. He had a way of making her feel like she wasn’t alone in this hectic process.

Aphrodite blinked up at him, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Joe. I’m good,” she said, though the truth was far from it.

The meeting continued for another hour, but Aphrodite’s focus wavered. There were decisions to be made, things to discuss, but it felt like her mind was on a constant loop, racing back to memories of Joseph, the words they never spoke, the life they could have had. She tried to push through it, but it was hard. Especially when she caught him glancing at her, his expression unreadable.

At the end of the meeting, Joe handed her a business card. Aphrodite hesitated for a moment before taking it, her fingers brushing against his.

“What’s this?” she asked, though she already had a guess.

“This is my management team's information. They seemed interested in you, so I’m just passing this along for them,” Joe explained, his tone warm but professional.

Aphrodite studied the card for a moment. “Oh wow,” she murmured, a little taken aback by the gesture. She hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. But there was no denying the potential—it was clear to everyone that she was something special.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, but before long, Joe excused himself, leaving Aphrodite alone with Joseph. Her heart sank just a little at the thought of being alone with him. She had spent so much of the past few years trying to distance herself from him—emotionally, physically, mentally—and now, here she was again, trapped in the same room.

Joseph walked over to her, his gait purposeful.

“You should call them,” he said, gesturing toward the business card in her hand.

Aphrodite stared at him, considering his words for a moment. “You think so?” she asked, unsure of why she even cared about his opinion.

“Yeah, you should be maximizing your potential,” Joseph replied a hint of pride in his voice.

Aphrodite wasn’t sure if she could swallow the lump in her throat, but she straightened her posture, lifting her chin. “Of course, they would want me. I mean, I’m that girl,” she said confidently, though she knew it wasn’t just about the job—it was also about reclaiming the power she once had when she was with him.

Joseph smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, umm, do you want to grab something to eat?” he asked, the words slipping out awkwardly.

Aphrodite’s face immediately hardened. “Absolutely not,” she replied, grabbing her purse and turning toward the door.

She didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. She didn’t need his pity, his attempts at small talk, or his comfort. He had destroyed her once, and she wasn’t about to let him do it again.

Joseph followed her down the hall, a frown tugging at his lips. “Come on, Dottie, you don’t have to act like that with me. We’re on the same team,” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and confusion.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes as they reached the elevator. “What do I look like, being friendly with the man who broke my heart?” she retorted. “Joseph, we need to be professional. And that means if it ain’t about business, then we don’t need to be in each other’s presence.”

The words stung, but they were true. She wasn’t interested in pretending that everything was fine between them when it wasn’t. The wound was still too fresh, too raw.

Joseph, clearly hurt by her words, sighed. “You’re just gonna keep reminding me that I broke your heart?”

“Yes!” Aphrodite exclaimed, spinning around to face him as they stepped into the elevator. “Because I loved you so much, Joseph. I wanted a life, a family, everything with you. And you left me—left me—to go play house with the mother of your children all because your father is obsessed with keeping families together, even if the relationship fails. But yet, he didn’t stay with your momma. The man married another woman and moved on, but yet he stays forcing that shit on you and your siblings!”

The words spilled out of her before she could stop them. The anger, the pain, the years of bitterness and confusion. They all came rushing to the surface, the release of both a relief and a weight.

Joseph was taken aback, his eyes wide with shock. He hadn’t expected her to blow up like that—not so publicly, not in front of him. But Aphrodite’s words were like daggers, each one hitting him with a force he hadn’t prepared for.

“And now look,” Aphrodite continued, her voice breaking slightly, “You’ve got to do shared custody with her when we could have been married by now. With our baby.”

The words hung in the air, a sudden silence settling between them. Aphrodite immediately froze, realizing what she had just said.

Joseph’s face went pale. “What? Baby?” His voice was barely a whisper, filled with disbelief.

Aphrodite’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She had said too much. She hadn’t meant to slip up like that—her emotions had gotten the better of her, and now she had just revealed something she wasn’t ready to share.

“Did you—were you pregnant when we broke up?” Joseph’s voice cracked, desperation creeping into his tone as he reached out, grabbing her wrist with a firm grip, and pulling her toward him.

Aphrodite tried to yank her arm away, but his hold was too strong. “Let go of me, Joseph,” she snapped, her voice trembling.

His grip only tightened as he pulled her closer. His eyes searched hers, his breath ragged, as if trying to make sense of the words she had just dropped.

“You must have misheard me, Joseph,” she lied, her voice shaking as she attempted to deflect.

But Joseph wasn’t so easily deterred. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily. His eyes bore into hers, demanding the truth. “Aphrodite… did you have a miscarriage?” His voice was almost a whisper, but the pain in it was undeniable.

Aphrodite’s stomach turned at the raw emotion in his eyes. She had wanted to protect him from this. She had wanted to keep this part of her life buried, locked away. But now, it was out in the open.

“I…” She swallowed, her throat tight with emotion. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, Joseph.”

The elevator doors opened, and without another word, Aphrodite pulled herself free from his grasp and rushed out, the sound of Joseph’s voice fading as the doors closed behind her.

The next few days felt like a haze to Aphrodite. She couldn’t escape the thoughts of Joseph, the words they had shared, and the questions that still hung in the air. She couldn’t avoid him forever, though. And when Trinity and Pamela showed up at her door with Chinese takeout, she knew the time had come to face the truth.

The two women stood in her living room, the tension was real between them. They didn’t push her, but they needed answers. They knew she had been through something—a lot of things—but they couldn’t understand why she had kept it all to herself.

Trinity sighed, her voice gentle yet firm. “Come on, Dottie. Tell us why you didn’t tell anyone about the baby.”

Aphrodite took a deep breath, her chest tightening with the weight of the words she had kept buried for so long. “I experienced a miscarriage at thirteen weeks. It was very traumatic. I found out I was pregnant two weeks after Joseph and I broke up. I planned to tell him, but I was in Miami when it happened. I had a really bad miscarriage. I had to go to the hospital. I had to have a blood transfusion. It was… very, very scary.”

Her voice faltered, the pain of that time rushing back. “Even just talking about it is difficult. It’s terrifying because you always think, ‘What’s wrong? What did I do wrong? Could I have done something different?’ My doctor told me, inside and out, up and down, there’s no cause. She didn’t know why it happened.”

She looked up at Trinity, her eyes full of raw emotion. “I know you’re going to tell him, but I don’t want him to know how far along I was.”

Trinity and Pamela stood there, taking in Aphrodite’s words with quiet solemnity. The air in the room had shifted from the casual comfort of Chinese takeout to something heavy, weighted with grief and unspoken pain. Neither of them moved for a long time, and Aphrodite could feel the heaviness of their gaze on her. Her chest tightened, not from regret, but from the vulnerability she’d just allowed herself to show.

Trinity was the first to speak, her voice softer now, full of empathy. "Dottie," she said gently, stepping closer. "You don’t have to explain why you didn’t tell anyone. You’re allowed to grieve in your own way." She placed a hand on Aphrodite's arm, her touch grounding. "But I think… I think Joseph deserves to know."

Aphrodite shook her head, her heart racing. "No, Trinity," she said firmly, her voice tinged with both fear and determination. "I can’t tell him. Not like this. Not when he still has so many pieces of his life that he’s trying to put back together. He can’t be responsible for me, for… that. I couldn’t drag him back into all of this, not now. Not after everything."

Pamela, who had been silently watching, spoke up next. "Dottie, it’s clear you’re hurting, and this pain... it doesn’t just go away because you hide from it." Her tone was quiet but firm, an undercurrent of care weaving through the words. "Joseph cares about you. He always has. But hiding it from him—hiding it from yourself—it’s only going to keep hurting."

Aphrodite squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the storm of emotions rising in her chest. "I know," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I know, but I can’t. I can’t reopen that door. I can’t let him see me like this. After everything we’ve been through… the distance, the loss... I don’t think I can handle seeing the pity in his eyes, or worse, the guilt. He’ll feel responsible for something he couldn’t control. And that’s not fair to him."

Trinity let out a slow breath, her eyes softening as she watched her friend. "Dottie, you’re carrying this burden alone. You’ve been carrying it for so long. You don’t have to do that anymore. You don’t have to protect him from this. You’re allowed to be vulnerable. You’re allowed to be angry. But you don’t have to do it by yourself."

Aphrodite opened her eyes, her gaze flicking from Trinity to Pamela, and then back to the floor. It felt like every word they said was peeling back another layer of armor she’d built around herself. She had thought that if she just kept it buried—if she just kept moving forward, acting as if nothing had happened—that it would eventually fade. But it hadn’t. The pain was still there, sitting at the edge of her mind, threatening to overwhelm her every time she thought about what could have been.

"I don’t know how to move forward," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but to her surprise, it wasn’t shame she felt. It was exhaustion, the kind of deep, soul-weariness that only comes from carrying the weight of unprocessed grief for so long.

"You don’t have to have all the answers, Dottie," Pamela said softly, walking over to sit beside her on the couch. "But you don’t have to carry it by yourself anymore."

Aphrodite looked at her friends, their faces filled with kindness and concern, and for the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of hope. She could talk about it. She could let people in, even if it was terrifying. Maybe—just maybe—there was a way to take back some control over her narrative.

The silence that followed was heavy but comfortable. Pamela and Trinity didn’t press her further; they simply sat with her, offering her their presence in a way that felt like a balm to her weary soul. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of their understanding and support surrounding her.

After a while, she opened her eyes again, her throat still tight but a little more steady than before. "I just need some time," she said quietly. "I need time to figure out what I’m supposed to do with all of this." She gestured vaguely toward herself, her emotions, everything she had been holding back. "But I’ll talk to him. I will. Just… not yet."

Trinity nodded, her expression softening. "We’re here whenever you’re ready. You don’t have to do anything on anyone else’s timetable."

Aphrodite felt her chest tighten as tears threatened to spill, but she blinked them away quickly. She wasn’t ready to cry. Not yet. Not in front of them. But she was starting to believe—just for a moment—that maybe she could do this. Maybe, with time, she could face Joseph, tell him what had happened, and maybe, just maybe, they could both find healing from the broken pieces of their past.

The conversation shifted after that, the weight of the earlier discussion gently put aside in favor of lighter topics. They ate their Chinese takeout, the noise and laughter filling the space around them, but Aphrodite’s mind was still reeling. The flood of emotions, the rawness of her confession—it all felt like a seismic shift inside her.

Later that night, after Trinity and Pamela had left, Aphrodite found herself alone in the quiet of her house. Her phone was sitting on the coffee table, the business card from Joe still in her hand, but she didn’t reach for it just yet. Instead, she stared at it for a long moment, the realization that her life was at a crossroads weighing heavily on her.

She had a choice now. She could stay silent, keep pushing away the pain, the fear, and the longing, or she could reach out, and take the next step. She could call Joe’s management team, pursue her career, and maybe, just maybe, open the door to something new. She could also reach out to Joseph, tell him the truth about their past, and allow herself to begin healing from the wounds they had both caused.

But first, she needed to take care of herself. She needed to find peace within herself before she could face anyone else. The path ahead felt uncertain, filled with potential for both growth and pain. But at least she wasn’t alone. She had Trinity. She had Pamela. And even though the road to healing was a long one, she realized, for the first time in a long while, that she didn’t have to walk it in isolation.

The next few days were filled with reflection. Aphrodite spent time working on her character development for The Bloodline, and her wardrobe finally began to take shape, reflecting the wisdom and power that now seemed to define her. But even as she dove into the work, there were moments—quiet, fleeting moments—when her thoughts turned back to Joseph.

She hadn’t called him. Not yet.

But she was starting to think that maybe when the time was right, she would. Maybe then, she could truly begin to heal.

And as the days passed, Aphrodite began to realize that to move forward, she needed to stop pretending she was fine. She needed to face the truth of her loss, the truth of her feelings, and allow herself to grieve, even if it meant confronting Joseph, even if it meant opening that door she had so desperately tried to keep closed.

She wasn’t sure when the right moment would come, but one thing was certain: she wasn’t going to run from it anymore.