#like. have flags for things but its weird to make them all part of a queer thing

[monards]

everytime i find out someone has assumed i had a crush on them because i treat them with (normal) platonic affection i die a little inside. i fear people have unnormalized just being decent and kind a little *too* much

[clinically-not-straight]

Not to get involved with discourse I don't care about but

Why do radqueers make the ugliest flags n shit. I won't lie, it's making me remember why I didn't get involved with LGBT stuff for a long while.

For the sake of design, I hope it does not integrate into society

[synonymsforstupidity]

'Kris being an outcast who likes freaking people out means they must be a Bad Person™️ and thus taking their free will and piloting them like a puppet is actually Good™️ morally speaking'

How about I eat your skin how bout that

[stillfrownyclownlol]

Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-

Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)

The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.

Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)

He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.

The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-

It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?

He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀

And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.

And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-

He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.

I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.

That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.

It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.

And what makes you feel more alive than love?

Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.

He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.

He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.

Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.

Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.

He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-

Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠

The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.

I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.

Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.

Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher

[portraitofadyke]

I think Our Flag Means Death is a very unique show in a way that they don't care to cater to mainstream media. And yes, by mainstream media I mean the general straight people.

I think it's very important that we have feel-good shows like Heartstopper. A few years back, a tv show about two queer boys in high school would be unthinkable. But its plot generally revolves around explaining queerness. Sure, it's nice. It's definitely the show I would watch with my family if I were a teenager and wanted to come out again (I had to watch glee with my mom to do that. not optimal). It's the show where teenagers find love and themselves, but sexuality is constantly discussed, explained, sanitized. It's the show straight people will watch. And that's good. We do need shows like that.

But Our Flag Means Death doesn't even bother trying. It's a show about mostly middle aged people, most of them not white, most of them queer in one way or the other. It's really a game of spot the hetero, like someone said. And the characters are not sublte about it. They have sex for fun, something most characters don't have in tv shows, definitely not queer characters. They make dick jokes. They are not all conventionally attractive and they know it, and the writing doesn't care. They are all people before they are queer representation.

Stede's storyline in s1 is in a part about discovering himself and his sexuality, but it's not obnoxiously repeated. Instead, it's played in a natural way. Stede's storyline is ALL about finding himself, yet it's not just about that. Just like Ed's storyline, it's about toxic masculinity and allowing himself to have fine things and self-hatred and finding his place in a world, something most of us can relate to. Hell, none of us were even sure the main characters were going to kiss and end up together, we were all so sure it's a queerbait. But this show doesn't bait its audience. It's not afraid of weirdness. It embraces it instead. There is a nonbinary character. No, they are not a mermaid. Call them jim. That's it. Yes, Lucius and Pete got engaged. Everyone there knows what mateolage is, congrats. Olu and Jim never break up and then Archie shows up, then Zheng, and we all know. We all know.

Two men nearing fifty have a deep, romantic moment where one of them appears as a mermaid, and it's treated as the profound scene it is without ridiculing it. This would never fly in a 'mainstream' media. It would have to be downplayed. Here, it saves Ed's life.

The show tells you racists suck, but it doesn't tell you in a condescending, finger-waving way catered to the white people. Instead, it sets your ship aflame and burns you alive, runs a knife through your hand, puts poison in your drink and kills you.

This is a show for adults, for queer people of all kinds, and it does not give a fuck if anyone else gets it. It's so rare to find a tv show that caters to us, yet alone a tv show that's genuinely good and caring and so well loved.

This is a show that basically straightbaited its audience in the first season, that's how much they don't care.

Idk, I just feel that it will take ages for another show like OFMD to exist in a world full of MCU and media that tries so hard to be liked by everyone it loses its personality and charm. Rant over

[seeingivy]

you belong with me

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: high school!au, gojo is a robotics nerd, reader is class president, emo nanami (my beloved), toji is ur shitass football playing boyfriend, typical cheesy highschool drama

an: tell me why posting this is giving me a tummy ache like I haven't posted for gojo in forever and now i think I suck at it :OOO anyways, please be nice to me about this and close your eyes if you hate it. also, totally reliving my high school days when I was senior class vice president (worst experience of my life) FDLJFKDSJFLS

--

You’re a hater. A self proclaimed, real-life, deep in your soul hater. 

What do you hate today? Being class president. 

You hate that you willingly ran, somehow won, had people up your ass all day about stuff that wasn’t in your control, and got stuck in the current situation you were in. Which was arguing with your boyfriend Toji, as you pace around your room and do your own fair share of screaming back. 

“You just did that shit because you were pissed at me.” 

“I did not, Toji. You know, not everything is about you. Other people needed the money and I put it where it was needed.” 

“To the color guard team? Babe, no one gives a fuck about the color guard team. Everyone is at the homecoming game to watch the football team. Not a bunch of idiots waving flags in the air.” 

“They’re also part of the game and all their equipment is broken. They need it more than you when you guys literally get donors and funding from the district and-”

“You’re just pissed about the sweetheart thing. That’s why you’re doing this shit and taking it out on everyone else.” 

“Toji, I’m not even mad about-” 

You’re met with the sound of ringing over the phone, signaling that Toji had enough and finally hung up on you. You flop straight onto your bed, pushing your face so hard into your pillow that sits uncomfortably against your nose and the smell of your laundry detergent makes its way to the crevices of your brain.

You hear a banging behind you and twist around to see Gojo pointing at his walkie-talkie, switching it on as you reach for yours. It’s still covered in glittery pink stickers from when you were seven, the silver coming off on your hand every time you grab it. 

“Come in, bunny.” 

“Loud and clear, Toru.” 

He smiles, setting his hardware down - probably for another weird ass robot he was making - as he holds it up to his face, talking again. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah. Just arguing with Toji, again. I’ll start allocating some of our funds to get you some sound proof windows.” 

“Much appreciated, Madam President. That’s very generous of you.” 

You laugh, dropping the walkie talkie to lift your fingertips to your temples, lightly massaging the pulsating under your skin. 

“For what it’s worth, the color guard team is really grateful you did that for them. I know Utahime was so excited when the new flags came in, she was flipping them around on the field for hours.” 

“That’s why it’s even more annoying. I know what I did was right, but he just doesn’t see it that way. Uta dragged me down to the field to watch them and their choreography looks so much better with the multicolored flags. They were really happy about it.” 

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?” 

“Heavy is the head that’s dating Toji Fushiguro.” 

He laughs as you switch your channel off, taking the last few seconds to study you before you draw your curtains. He can see the tension sitting in your shoulders and how clearly it hurts you to argue with Toji like this. And it infuriates him. That you even have to go to sleep angry and that the cause is the headass idiot you’re dating. 

Toji Fushiguro is lucky, far more lucky than he realizes. Not for obvious reasons. Yeah, he’s a great football player and yeah, he’ll probably get scouted for some really good university at the end of the year. He doesn’t have a shortage of friends or intelligence and for all intents and purposes, he’s loved (which Gojo doesn’t understand at all). 

He’ll probably be that scumbag that people see a few years down the line and then get infuriated at. Because if an absolute asshat like Toji Fushiguro can be successful, then truly all things have gone to shit. That the patriarchy is real, that society is broken, living proof that the asshole always wins and everyone else always loses. 

But no, those are common reasons to hate Toji Fushiguro - ones he’s heard echoed by Suguru and Shoko every time he does something that pisses the two of them off. Like scream obscenities in the hallways, block their parking spots when they’re going to class, call them names when they walk by. 

No. Toji Fushiguro is lucky because he gets to date you. Because out of the long list of girls he had to pick one, Toji just had to pick the one that was his. The girl he’s been in love with since he moved in right across the street and had a smiley neighbor excitedly waving at him through her bay window. 

To him, love has always been the pigtail braids you used to wear everyday in the fourth grade, the matching walkie-talkies you bought him in sixth grade when he got grounded, and that sweet smile you’ve had since the first day he’s met you. 

And when he sees those green curtains pulled against the bay window he’s stared at for years, where he’s loved you from for years, he lifts the walkie and says what he forgot to mention. 

I love you.

--

Thanks to your gracious ride, you make it to school thirty minutes early. Your intuition - that Toji was ditching you as your ride to school this morning - was correct. Luckily, you made it in time just before class started. 

Nanami’s already seated on the green bench outside the classroom, headphones plugged into his ears. As you walk up, you silently wonder how much hair gel it takes to keep his Gerard Way hairstyle in place. 

“Hi Kento! How is my best friend doing on this fine morning?” 

“We’re not best friends.” 

“Sure we are!” 

You reach forward and pinch his cheek in your hand, which he only swats off and rolls his eyes at. That’s how you know your best friends. Because if it was anyone else, Nanami would probably break their hand and walk away. But he always lets you tease him, because he know he loves you. 

“Are you still fighting with that dog?” 

“That dog has a name. And it’s Toji. And I’m not sure, he didn’t pick me up for school this morning.” 

“Did he at least tell you he wouldn’t?” 

“No. I was lucky enough that Satoru had walked Megs to the bus stop a little late and I was able to get a ride with him.” 

Nanami looks over, narrowing his eyes at you, as the hallway starts getting crowded with people. And you know what he’s saying, what he’s been saying for the past few months. 

“You know, it’s very normal to give your neighbor a ride when they need one. Not everything has ulterior motives, Kento.” 

“That’s true. Everything doesn’t have ulterior motives. But he does. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me, Kento?” 

“Like he’d kiss the ground you’d walk on.” 

You roll your eyes, reaching up to mess up his perfectly styled hair. It doesn’t budge and you get a handful of minty smelling hair gel.

“As if.”

Like you’ve summoned him by bringing him up, Satoru’s sidestepping to where you and Nanami are sitting, Shoko and Getou in tow with him. 

“Nanami~~ How’s my best friend doing?” Satoru says, bending over to totally obscure Nanami’s line of vision.

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.” Nanami responds. 

Nanami stands up, giving you a look, before he stalks away to his next class. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and Getou standing in front of your classroom.  

“So. I hear you have a robotics competition?” you ask.

“Yeah. Next Saturday. We always practice our hardware out the night before, throw a little party in the lab. You should come.” Getou says, smiling at you. 

Satoru smacks Getou in the stomach right after he invites you, clearly trying to tell him something with his eyes. And then when he catches you staring, he gives you a nervous laugh. 

You get it. He doesn’t want you there.

“Don’t act too excited to see me now, Satoru. Anything more and I might think you like me.” you bite sarcastically.

“What? No, it’s not like that. I just-” Satoru stutters, 

“So you don’t like me?” you say, smirking at him. Shoko and Getou are laughing, the tips of Satoru’s turning pink as he very adamantly tells you that he does indeed like you. 

“I have stuff to set up for the homecoming game that day, so I won’t be able to. But I’ll try my best, yeah?” 

“Okay. Next time?” Getou asks. 

“Sure, Sugar-u. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?” 

You give the three of them a polite smile as you trudge away, leaving to meet Toji at his locker and give him a piece of your mind for this morning. Which leaves Shoko and Getou to give Satoru the scolding of his life. 

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru? You made it seem like you didn’t want her there.” Shoko says, smacking him on the back of the head. 

“I panicked! Plus, Haibara always likes to play Just Dance and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of her.” Satoru responds, rubbing the now sore spot on the back of his head. 

“You’re hopeless, Satoru. She’s never going to like you if you keep rejecting her the way you do.” Suguru says, dragging him along to the robotics lab. 

“She has a boyfriend. Who isn’t me. As if she would even consider dating me in the first place.” 

And when the three of them pass you by the lockers, clearly getting yelled at by Toji, it only furthers their argument more. 

“Yeah, I’m sure she really loves him, Satoru.” 

--

Your argument with Toji hours prior simmers in your head, as you wait for the bus to arrive and for this godforsaken day to finally be over. You watch him pile into his car with Salma and the other boys from the football team, which only makes your anger fester more. 

He’s doing this to piss you off. Of course, he’s doing this to-

“Need a ride?” 

You look up and unclench your fists to find Satoru, sparkly blue eyes shining at you and a hand held out to you. 

“Thanks.” 

He leads you to his car, an almost demolished Honda Civic from his maniacal driving, and you climb in, immediately putting your head in your hands. You can feel him moving around you, the engine purring on and him backing out of the spot. 

“About earlier. I don’t not want you to come to the robotics thing. I just thought it was awkward the way he asked you and I-I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come, you know? And I-I’d like it if you came too and so would the rest of us.” he rambles, a hand in his hair. 

You look up, his ears tinted pink from the confession. 

“I was just teasing you, Satoru. I’ll try to make it by, okay?” 

He sighs, a clear breath of relief, and looks over to smile.

“Okay, cool cool cool. Now tell me why you and Toji are fighting.” 

“When aren’t we fighting?” you murmur, pressing your head against the glass. 

“But why?” 

And when you look over, his blue eyes staring into yours, in earnest while the light is red, you unload it all. 

“Do you know about the sweethearts thing they do at the homecoming game?” 

“Uh. That’s when the cheerleaders wear the jerseys right. And then decorate the locker room or some shit for the players.” 

“Yeah. Well, it’s not limited to cheerleaders. It usually is, but if you’re dating someone, that person can do it for you.” 

“So I’m guessing Toji doesn’t want you to do it for him.” 

“Not exactly. He was just saying that it’s more traditional for a cheerleader to do it since they’re also on the side of the track and he wants to see his name out there instead of running around, trying to make sure the game is running and all that.” 

You slump into the chair as Satoru frowns, a pitying look in his eyes, as he keeps driving. You can’t help but watch him, his silhouette against the window - defined jaw, the slope of his nose. 

He’s not the guy who ran away from kissing you in the eighth grade. He’s just ten times hotter. 

You shake your head, letting the thought spill from your mind, as Satoru looks over. 

“Jamoca?” he says, giving you a wide grin. 

You can’t help but laugh, nodding as Satoru makes a sharp left turn, making his way to the ice cream shop. 

Jamoca is your favorite ice cream flavor. Coffee, layered with fudge and almonds, became a proclaimed favorite when Satoru dragged you once in the sixth grade. After very sorely losing the class president battle, you moped in your room for five days - even going as far as borrowing one of Nanami’s My Chemical Romance vinyls to truly and properly mope. 

On day three of blasting the vinyl, Satoru called enough and dragged you to the closest ice cream store, claiming it was the closest thing to therapy that you normies could afford. Since then, any bad day was easily solved with two things. 

Jamoca and Satoru. 

When you make it to the store, Satoru’s excitedly dragging you out of the car, his hand pressed in yours as you both run into the store, giggling while you order your single scoops. And when he drags you out to the curb and you sit there, you silently think to yourself why you ever stopped doing this in the first place. 

Satoru leans over, digging his chocolate fudge covered spoon into your cup, before talking. 

“So. If you guys fight so much, why are you still dating?” 

“Dunno. Feels weird to initiate a breakup, I guess. I can’t see myself doing it.” 

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart?” 

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart.” 

You kick the pebbles into the broken parts of the pavement, leaning your elbows on your knees. 

“I don’t know, Toru. I guess he was just the first guy who ever liked me back and then I….spent so much time in the relationship and trying to make it work that it feels weird to let it go now.” 

Satoru swallows hard, eyeing his melting ice cream, as he ponders the best response. Because in earnest, he has two options. Support you or be selfish. Support you to stay with Toji, to do what you’ve been doing because he knows it’s what you want. Or be selfish. Tell you that he you deserve better, that he could be that for you if you just let him. 

He reaches over, flicking you in the forehead. 

“Ouch, asshole.” 

“You’ve got a really big brain in there. And you always have. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, just give it time.” 

And when you give him a halfhearted smile, reaching over into his cup for a bite of his ice cream, he lets it go. 

He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to you anyways. 

--

After running around all day, you give yourself thirty minutes to go to Satoru’s robotics thing. After triple checking the microphones work, the yearbook team has access to the field, the glitter has been set out for everyone trickling in, and that everyone who could possibly need your phone number has it, you speed run to the other side of campus, to the robotics lab. 

And when you make it, the five of them - Haibara, Nanami, Shoko, Getou, and Satoru - are in the room playing Just Dance. Shoko’s sitting on top of the desk, flippantly moving her remote in the air, while Satoru quite literally is trying to give it all he’s got - and losing apparently. 

You lightly push the door open, which stops the two of them in their tracks, and you’re met with some very excited cheers as they all drag you into the room. You take a seat next to Nanami, giving his cheek a pinch, which he hates. 

“You’re Haibara, right?” 

“You know who I am?” 

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re friends with Nanami and Nanami and I are best friends.” 

“No we aren’t.” responds Nanami, now sulking two seats away from you. 

“Are too.” 

You throw the nearest object, a pencil at Nanami, as you turn back to Haibara and laugh. 

“I like your shirt. Flight of the Navigator is a really good movie.” 

You see Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s eyes widen in the back at your words and hear a considerable amount of groaning from Nanami behind you. And after twenty minutes, you find out why. 

Haibara really, really loves Flight of the Navigator. Almost too much. In earnest, you barely remember the movie - at most, maybe the weird little alien companion he has. But here Haibara is, reciting the cast, the directors, acting out the scenes and it’s clear to you that you’ve tapped into some monster they all keep hidden. 

Luckily for you, Satoru comes to your rescue. 

“Okay, Haibara. I’m going to steal her for you for some Just Dance.” 

“I don’t Just Dance Satoru.” 

“Oh yeah? You’re just saying that because you know you’re going to lose.” 

You scoff, knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

“As if, sweetheart. I distinctly remember you banning us from ever playing that game together after I beat you in the fifth grade.” 

“You’re rusty. Maybe we’ll start with something easy. Like Rasputin.” 

“I could do Rasputin in my sleep, bitch.” 

“Prove it.” 

You roll your eyes as you march over to the front, where they’re projecting the game onto the screen. And just for posterity’s sake, you take Satoru’s sunglasses from where they were flipped over on the desk and put them on, effectively blinding yourself from the screen. 

And when the songs start, you can hear them all laughing behind you, Satoru and you hurling insults at each other as you dance on. And somewhere around the middle, you’re sure Satoru must be losing because he grabs your hands and suddenly he’s swinging you around in the air, his hands on your waist as you laugh. 

And when you take your blindfold off and the song dies down, Satoru wins by five points. 

“You asshole. You literally cheated, Satoru.” 

“Did not. You’re just a sore loser, bitch.” 

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?” 

“Every night, sweetheart.” 

You put the palm of your hand in his face as you push him away, moving to sit on the desk. He joins you, the two of you now watching Haibara and Nanami have a very one sided dance battle. 

After forty-five minutes, Satoru’s phone buzzes three times and the smile on his face drops when he checks. You place your hand on his, squeezing twice before asking. 

“You okay?” 

“Huh. Oh, yeah. I-I think you should go to the field. Right now.” 

“Wait, what? But you hate that kind of-” 

He grabs your hand, dragging you out, as you both start running to the field. You keep asking as he pulls you on, getting almost no response and only a faster pace. 

And when you reach the field, you catch just the end of it and the only thing grounding you to that moment is Satoru and Utahime, who was surely the one who had texted Satoru, holding onto your shoulders. 

Salma, the cheerleader Toji picked to be his sweetheart, just asked him to homecoming during halftime. And he said yes. 

Utahime squeezes your hand three times, a soft look in her eyes when she talks. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just thought you would want to know and I wanted to tell you because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.” 

You smile, moving into her open arms as you whisper a small thank you into her shoulder. She leaves, having to return to the color guard team waiting for her on the side, leaving you and Satoru standing on the pavement right by the field. 

“Take you home?” 

“Thanks, Toru.” 

“You want Jamoca?” 

“Not today.” 

He nods, a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to his car, even going as far as opening the door for you and letting you crack the windows while you drive back - which you know he hates. 

At the first red light, he taps on the top of your head to get your attention. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” 

“What? Of course, not. Toji is just an asshat who doesn’t see you for what you’re worth and-” 

“No. No, no. Not like that. Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I’m not even the tiniest bit sad right now? I’m…relieved.” 

Satoru looks over, the red front the traffic light flashing on your face, and a blank expression staring back at him. 

“Of course, not. He’s a grade one idiot. Anyone in your position would feel that way, bunny.” 

“I know. That’s true.” 

“But?” 

“Does this make me defective, Satoru? Like, maybe I just can’t like people that much or something and I was the problem.” 

Satoru twiddles his thumbs on the steering wheel, pondering the same question he has been asking for the past few days. Encourage her or be selfish. 

He can’t be selfish with you. 

“Okay, Y/N. Close your eyes.” 

“Huh?” 

“Just do it.” 

“Okay.” 

He looks over, to find you eyelids fluttering shut, your face lit up by the streetlights outside.

“Now. Tell me about your dream guy, bunny.” 

“What are you going on ab-” 

“Just do it.” 

You sigh, before thinking hard about his question. 

“Someone I can be comfortable with. That’s my type. Like we can have fun together and play games but also being around them is comforting to me. Things might suck, but at least they are there to kind of pick me up at the end of the day. They’re nice to people and are surrounded by good company, because you are who you love and they try to be better each day.” 

After finishing, you open your eyes to find Satoru staring at you, an all-knowing look on his face. 

“Bunny?” 

“Toru?” 

“Does that sound anything like Toji to you?” 

You slump back into your chair, sinking down. 

“No.” you murmur. 

“You aren’t defective. Well, maybe in the higher level cognitive thinking part because you clearly have some impaired decision making but-” 

“Hey. Don’t be rude, asshole.” 

“Get out of the car.” 

You crane your head out the window to see you’re in fact not at your house, but at the ice cream store. And when he comes around to your side of the car, opening your door, he drags you out, the two of you eating you ice cream in the light of the dingy lamp outside the store. 

--

You knock hard on your window, only stopping when Satoru looks up from his desk, dropping the pencil he was just scribbling with. You point to your walkie talkie, switching on the channel as he grabs his. 

“Hi bunny. You look nice.” 

“Thank you. Are you coming tonight?” 

To homecoming. Because despite all odds and last night, you still have to go. And crown the homecoming king and queen since you’re the class president, which you’re sure will be Salma and Toji since the universe is very, very kind to you. 

“I’m sorry. Haibara needed help designing something for next week.” 

“Oh. Okay. I wish you were.” 

“I wish I was too. His hardware is Flight of the Navigator themed so wish me luck.” 

You laugh, giving him one last smile as he pulls the curtains to his window. And when you see his navy windows against the pane you’ve stared at him through for years, it only now occurs to you. 

When he asked you to describe that last night, he unlocked something. Bringing it to your attention, to the forefront of your mind. 

The person you were describing is him. You lift your walkie talkie to your mouth, press the button, and mention the words you forgot to say. 

I love you.

And then you turn on your heel and drive yourself to the dance. 

--

Satoru ponders it for thirty minutes. 

Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. 

Be fucking selfish. 

Satoru gets up, dropping the hardware he was making for Haibara, and pulls out the first suit he can find. He grabs his walkie talkie off his desk, convinces Megumi to go beg your mom (who loves Megumi) for your walkie talkie, and then goes ninety on the freeway to get to the school on time. 

He finds Nanami first, the glob of gel on his head somehow even worse than normal and sets his plan in motion. 

“Nanami.” 

“Please, for the love of god, not tod-” 

“Go hand this to Y/N.” 

Nanami and now Shoko are taking the walkie in their hands, flipping it over and inspecting it like they’re the fucking FBI. And more importantly, wasting time. 

Three feet away, you’re standing by the punch table, counting how many balloons are on the ceiling. You reach three hundred and fifteen when you’re approached for the first time that night, by Nanami and Shoko. 

“Nanami. What is going on with your hair? You can’t possibly need that much hair gel.”

“You would be shocked, Y/N.” 

“That's what I said to him too. But this is for you.” Shoko says.

She hands you your walkie talkie, the silver glitter coming off on your hand, as you flip it over. 

“Did you break into my house, Shoko?” 

“No. But I’m guessing Satoru did. He ran in here five minutes ago and basically yelled at us to give it to you.” 

They both shrug as they walk away and you look around, clutching the walkie talkie so hard in your hand you think you might break it. Satoru’s here.

And when you scan your eyes around the room, you see him at the front door, his eyes already fixed on yours. He’s smiling so big that it makes your heart squelch and suddenly you’re moving towards him. And as you both start walking (running) to each other, you can’t help but feel the anticipation of what’s coming. 

Except that’s right when Toji stands in the middle of the two of you, his characteristic slimy, sneer on his face. He reaches for your hand first. 

“Can we talk, Y/N?” 

"No."

You shrug your hand off, pushing right past him, as you walk closer to Satoru. You can hear Toji shouting something at you, but you’re too tunnel visioned on Satoru to pay attention. And when you reach him, you’re both smiling so big at each other, that it makes your face hurt. 

He lifts his walkie talkie to his mouth, talking first. 

“Come in, bunny?” 

“Loud and clear, Toru.” 

“I love you.” 

You can feel yourself smiling so big, so excited that you’re basically jumping on your toes, your walkie shaking in your hand. 

“I love you.” 

“Oh thank god. I was scared I was going to get a breaking and entering charge.”

You laugh, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him square on his face. And when he pulls away, ears pink and face red, you whisper against his lips. 

“It was always going to be you. I belong with you.” 

He smiles, that stupid smile you’ve stared at, loved for years and you can’t help but cheese, leaning forward to kiss him again.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez  @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters  @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[sunsetkerr]

THE TRADE | s.kerr

summary: as your afl season ends, your contract is up- leaving you, the hottest player in the aflw, up for grabs.

pairing: aflw!reader x sam kerr

notes: part one here!

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, crowsaflw and 18,398 others yourinstagram our third flag, so proud to have spent the last five years with this team. ytfg 💪💪

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samanthakerr20 the only time I will accept you not wearing a west coast guernsey is now ❤️❤️ so proud, go the crows!! ↳ yourinstagram screenshotting this and sending it to west coast right now

crowsaflw we love you #1 ↳ yourinstagram ❤️

user no because im so happy

user they need to resign her ↳ user shes a free agent, meaning whoever bids the most is most likely where she will go ↳ user she can't leave the crows 💔

alannakennedy casually winning flags ↳ yourinstagram its a constant tbh

alexchidiac10 loving the hat in the second pic ↳ yourinstagram its sam's dads 💪 ↳ samanthakerr20 roger was robbed

aflwupdates

liked by user, caitlinfoord and 7,281 others aflwupdates BREAKING NEWS: Adelaide Crows star, Y/N L/N, is officially a free agent. After winning her 3rd flag with the southern club, L/N's contract has not been renewed and she is rumoured to be looking for a new club. It is unknown whether Adelaide is negotiating a new contract with their star forward.

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user im losing it, she can't leave ↳ user I wouldn't be surprised, she doesn't live in Adelaide so it might be easier to go to a club closer to home ↳ user where does she live? ↳ user y/n has a home in perth with her wife sam and their daughter, but flies between perth, adelaide and london (where sam and y/n also have a house) for sam's football

caitlinfoord sick pic though @yourinstagram ↳ yourinstagram ffs caitlin ↳ user caitlin can't resist putting her foot in it 😭 ↳ yourinstagram literally this is my life, come get your dog please @mackenziearnold @alannakennedy

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, maryfowlerrr and 26,387 others yourinstagram in the off season we party (tillies style)

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mackenziearnold matildas 🤝 the crows ↳ yourinstagram party animals

user SAM AND Y/N HAVE MATCHING TATTOOS??? ↳ samanthakerr20 disgusting really

user seeing the girls let their hair down is so refreshing

user y/n looks in no condition to have caitlin foord on her shoulders, that is one expensive woman y/n- don't drop her please ↳ yourinstagram if I did it wouldn't be an accident

matildas see you at training tomorrow morning ladies!! ↳ maryfowlerrr I can't go out.. I'm sick

samanthakerr20 you little rager, you look so good in that shirt ↳ yourinstagram its 100% off (a sam kerr exclusive discount) ↳ samanthakerr20 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

user we are all freaking out about her trade and she's out here getting off her face with her wife's team mates 😭😭

crowsaflw

liked by yourinstagram, samanthakerr20 and 9,290 others crowsaflw it is with great sorrow we announce the departure of our superstar y/n l/n. five long years with the best, she will be missed on and off the field. truly a force to be reckoned with ❤️ we will miss you, forever our #1.

samanthakerr20

liked by yourinstagram, amysayer_ and 739,298 others samanthakerr20 she's off to continue to do great things ❤️ proud.

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user its so weird seeing them all lovey and not all I hate you ↳ yourinstagram dont worry its weird for me too

crowsaflw our girl! ↳ user but like.. not anymore... ↳ user too soon

kyracooneyx my lord and saviour ↳ charlotte_grant all hail mrs l/n-kerr

samanthakerr20 realising this photo kinda makes it look like you're dead xx ↳ yourinstagram sometimes when im with you I wish I was xxxxxx

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, aflw and 18,388 others yourinstagram the new diggs

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user STOP ITS OPTUS, SHE'S GONE TO WA

user omg shes going to west coast or freo

optusstadium so happy to have you!

samanthakerr20 who says diggs? ↳ yourinstagram literally shut the fuck up

mackenziearnold physically cannot sit still right now ↳ yourinstagram right now or ever?

user y/n literally tell us, tell us right now

westcoastaflw

liked by samanathakerr20, yourinstagram and 11,938 others westcoastaflw welcoming our new #1!! @yourinstagram blue and gold looks very good on you, don't you agree @samanthakerr20?

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samanthakerr20 DAMNNNNNN 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

samanthakerr20 can finally watch one of your games without wanting to vomit looking at your guernsey 🤤🤤🤤🤤 ↳ yourinstagram 💙💛

user I cannot breathe

user sam got what she wanted 😭😭 ↳ yourinstagram she always does unfortunately

roxykerr20 thank goodness we didn't invest in any crows merchandise 😂 ↳ yourinstagram you never would roxy 😌 I did this solely for you and roger ↳ samanthakerr20 I'll just jump off a cliff then x love you babe

[cookiepie111]

Bite me. Love me

König x black reader

Part 2

A/N-He's weird a walking red flag but the red flags are hazy almost like they're not there? Like a marage. His red flags are something you quite can't put a finger on at first until you realise it's everything it's the sum of all he's doing. A good boyfriend but a bit strange Idk he's sort of a you gotta get uncomfortable before you get comfortable

For me könig a bit of a strange man a man. He kinda understands social cues, but sometimes gets them a bit wrong. he slightly pushes your boutons and boundaries to see what he can get away with and how he can squeeze you

It's kinda like he has you in his teeth but he's not actually biting down, just grinding and rolling you in-between his teeth, he likes it and you're 'safe' that way, he wouldn't actually hurt you

Listen, sorry for all that yapping, but you needed to hear it. Anyway, a longer/second part to könig failed flirting attempt.Please like, reblog, and comment. Not proofread

Tag list: @thatmusedhatter @himboelover @canyonswft13 @montenegroisr @kneelingshadowsalome @havikshoochiemama @wordstome @lanalafey

You lost a bag that's cool, that's fine, although wouldn't call it lost, stolen more like given? Bag was practically thrown it into the robbers' hands. self-preservation above all else.

You couldn't focus on a single thing. Thoughts and worries tangle in your head as you recall the past events in your kitchen. You survive all that time back home, not getting robbed, only for your black ass to be robbed in a cafe in Austria!

'Come to Austria they said it'll be fun they said!'

ID, cards, money, everything in that bag gone. Thrown to the hands of a strange man. Why you. You'd have to go to the police, file a report, call the bank, and freeze your cards. "Aghhh!" All you could do was drop the floor and cry.

Surprisingly, this wasn't the worst pick-up fail könig had, so he can at least find comfort in that. can't get any lower than rock bottom...

The purse in his hands looked comical small, maybe its him, his hands that are making it look so small. you couldn't keep all your things in here? maybe it's a trend for women to carry purses the size of apples, putting fashion over function. Not something that könig would do.

Those who saw the whole ordeal go down, now eye him with suspicion, wondering what his next move will be, gripping their own items closer. He can only laugh to himself if he wanted he'd have no problem taking their stuff away. But it's better to leave so he can find you.

Walking out, he takes the time to look through your bag. cards, ID, cash, so manu important things, and you just handed them over to him. Playing with the ID card in his hands, mulling over your features. you had such a pretty name, such a serious face you were making in your photo too, not at all like the frightened look you had before.

It's more than enough to track you down he still didn't get the chance to ask you out. He couldn't bring it back empty-handed. Maybe a new purse would do.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The kitchen floor provides a surprising amount of comfort in these moments. 5 panic attacks down, and you're only down starting to cry. The knock on the door is either about to be a blessing or curse. Maybe the police finally came, or a good samartain got your purse back.

There wouldn't be any blessing today. The other side of the door only showed your assailant. If the panic attacks weren't enough to send you over the edge, spiralling, seeing this man at your door certainly was. taking your purse wasn't enough, like some sick grim reaper he's come for your life.

Playing dead is an option, right? You'd have to be stupid to think you could outrun this man. Yeah, laying down for a quick kill would be best-

" I brought you a gift, to apologise"

A gift?

You kept your eyes on bag half because you couldn't believe him and also you were too scared to look him in the eyes.

"It seems I scared you back at the cafe, I only wanted to ask you out" he holds out a bag in front of you.

Ha. It was a mistake. A simple misunderstanding. You'd spent the better half of today crying on the floor because of some big man's poor flirting skills. You wanted to cry again.

Might as well take the bag. What's one more mistake or bad choice today. All your items are there, and you suddenly feel relife, tears welling in eyes as your knees buckle. Your purse, cards, sweets, the second half of the book you're reading? Wait, some of this isn't yours.... was he using your bag to hold his stuff?? You stare back at him, waiting for an answer.

" they're yours a gift to apologize"

"Oh"

Maybe it's all in your head. You're just on edge in a new place. You feel like you can finally relax. The tension knotted in your shoulders slowly unravels. You feel silly and like a wet dog

" I'm sorry about that. Thank you for bringing it back,"

"A date"

What. You see him now only closer than before threatening to enter the boundaries of your home.

" Let me take you out for a drink to apologise." It's such an intense stare he has, focused souly on you. It makes you uncomfortable, stepping back slightly to put some space between you, a bad idea, as he matched your pace stepping forward, foot now fully in your house. You started in disbelief. There's no way this man just stepped in your house, muddy shoes and all. For the last time today, you look back at him, annoyed. An surprise for könig but not an unwelcome one.

"I don't drink"

"coffee"

"No"

"Tea"

"Hmm "

he squints and pauses at that answer

'"a cafe"

"Leave please"

"I'll pick you up on Thursday"

He's barley out the door before you shut it on him, locking the door and pulling the chain

she didn't say no right away. That means he still got a chance.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It's Thursday afternoon and once again you're sat in the kitchen panicking as your feet tap along with the rhythm of the clock.

The whole morning was spent worrying out your mind. It's a miracle your heart hasn't given out yet. Maybe he was just messing you, and now you've spent the whole morning worrying for nothing. more time passed, and your worry turned to annoyance. You did your whole makeup for this, and he didn't show.

You jump up at the sound of the door, rushing to open it. You pause. Taking a moment to collect yourself before before opening the door.

He looks better than before, still donning that scary balaclava, but in more casual clothes and flowers in hand. He's too forward with his actions, pushing the bouquet in your hands before he even spoke.

It's awkward. He doesn't say much(because that worked so well the first time), and neither do you. This silent walk is too painful to bear.

At least you can say he's a gentleman (sort of). The date was paid in full, and he got a gift. You've learned a few things about könig now. His jokes are cheesy, but they did make you laugh. He resides in an upscale apartment that's too big for him (his words)outside of the city centre. Currently on break from the army (a potential red flag that'll lingered in your thoughts), he's got a big appetite and love for strong drinks.

This afternoon hadn't been all that unpleasant. You quite like the man, you find some strange comfort and safety in him. It's even nice when he pulls you close to him, resting a hand on your hip.

"Haha, are you happy to see me, or is that a knife in your pocket?"

"Knife."

"Hah-" and He pulled out a blade.

...

Oh. Now we're back to weird again.

Why couldn't he just be normal!? It's too casual the tricks he's doing with the knife. How were you supposed to pretend this was normal

You try your best to smile, to not turn and flee scream but your lips tremble. You're really wishing he did have a boner instead. You're not sure what to say or what annoys you more how casual he is, not a single worry on his face.

This is exactly why you shouldn't go out with strange men who randomly appear at your doorstep. At the very least, he's a strong contender for the "Most Heart Attacks Caused by a Man" award.

König wasn't stupid he could sense your worry as you tried to hide behind a lopsided smile. Watching your eyes shift between him and blade, waiting for his next move. You're cute. He'll have fun messing with you.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

You couldn't be happier to be home. You survived! You'd never have to see that nasty man again!

*beep*

It doesn't matter how long you stare at your phone in confusion and annoyance. The message on your phone is clear

......

Where did this man even get your number!? He's known for a 2 whole day's, there's no chance he knows anyone close to you.

You're never going to be free of this man

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #47 – City of Last Chances by Adrian Tchaikovsky

This book was recommended to me by a few different people, and in any case I am generally a pretty big Tchaikovsky fan. So of course I’m only getting around to reading it now, however many months later. Having put it off so long for no good reason at all, I can say that the book is in fact very good. Not Tchaikovsky’s best work (that’s still Children of Time in a walk), but a good read and one that left me curious (if not exactly excited) about checking out the sequel.

The story takes place in Illmar, the eponymous City of Last Chances – scarred and oppressed, tyrannized by cursed dukes and conquering imperialists, built upon a dangerous and unreliable route to other worlds and forever attracting the sort of people with no better options available to them. While the book has any number of characters, it’s really the city itself that is the star of the story – a story of how the theft of an imperial magistrate’s ward before he makes an experimental voyage through the gateway in the woods leads to a whole series of byzantine intrigues and bloody misadventures, culminating in an abortive revolution against the Pallseen who occupy and rule them. Which in one sense is an absolutely massive spoiler and in another just feels like stating an inevitability that was obvious from the first chapter.

The book was apparently quite heavily marketed as harking back to the whole New Weird trend of a decade or two ago – marketing that is lived up to wholly and entirely. The whole book absolutely drips with Mieville and Vandermeer. The oblique worldbuilding, the mundane day-to-day life built around the opportunities and inconveniences of some intrusion of the sublime, the awkward intersection of ancient magic and industrial bureaucracy, and so on, and so forth. The Reproach in particular feels very Area X (or very Roadside Picnic, as you prefer), but in general the city feels like absolutely nothing so much as Bas-Lag with the weirdness dial turned down from an 11 to a 5 or 6.

It’s a real triumph of the book, I think, that the world genuinely feels vast and strange even beyond the points where it matters to the story - that all the little asides and the ways something affects a certain character feel like just small parts of something far grander and more uncanny than anyone can hope to understand. Maybe I’m just painfully tired of rpg-system worldbuilding, but it’s an effect I dearly love.

Much like Bas-Lag, Ilmar is very clearly a magical fantasy city going through a magical fantasy 19th century industrial revolution (instead of steam engines its demonic slave labor contracted and imported from the Kings Below). The meat of the book is playing into the whole tradition of the idealistic, virtuous but tragic liberal revolution – 1848 in Berlin or Vienna, the June Days and Commune in Paris, Warsaw a dozen different times, Les Mis. You know the type. Students singing patriotic old songs, workers rising up against class oppression, ‘revolutionaries’ who are mostly cowardly nobles pining after lost privileges and criminal syndicate putting on airs being caught flat-footed by events. You can probably tell the basic story in your sleep. But for such a venerable genre, this book's honestly probably the best rendition of ‘fantasy 1848’ I can recall. Something which won it my instant affection.

The other thing the book just overwhelming shares with the Mieville’s Bas-Lag books is a very keen sense of the necessity of revolution combined with an extreme cynicism towards anyone who might actually carry it out. The university students are sincere believers, and also naive sheep the narrative views with condescension (at best). The professional revolutionaries are all power-grabbing hypocrites who have wrapped themselves in the flag. The workers syndicates have a real sense of solidarity among themselves, and also none at all to the demon slaves that are used and broken powering the mills and factories. And so on. The overall thrust of the book is a tragedy not in the sense of railing against the inevitable, but in the sense that triumph and revolution were absolutely possible – indeed plausible – but for the flaws and frailities of the revolutionaries who might have accomplished it.

Not to say that it's misanthropic – the book is very humane towards the vast majority of its POVs. Of which there are enough for ‘vast majority’ to be a meaningful term. It was something like 130 pages in before any character got a second chapter through their eyes, a feat I had previously only seen in Malazan – and that’s not including the chorus chapters which just give a half-doze vignettes from across the city. But yes, most characters (even the ones who are really just viscerally repulsive) are shown through their own eyes as someone who is at least understandable, if not particularly sympathetic. The sheer size of the cast in a 500 page book mean that no one character or set gets that many chapters from their perspective (you could easily have written as long a book about roughly the same events with half or less of the cast), but some of the dynamics that are very lightly touched on are just incredibly compelling. Its enough to make you wish this was a series that would ever get any fanfiction written about it, really.

Given the way the book is so deeply concerned with oppression and violence on the basis of culture, class, and nation – imperial occupiers, native population, refugees and immigrants used and scapegoated by both – it is kind of fascinating that this is a world where misogyny and (possibly? Not very explored, the only example of a queer relationship we see is hardly going to be concerned by normative society) homophobia just flatly don’t exist. Which would be less interesting if it was unusual, really – the same could be said about very nearly every recent sci fi or fantasy book on the same lines I can recall. Interesting because it is very much not the case in Melville’s stuff – the cultural impact of Ancillary Justice continues to echo down the years, I guess. So yes the imperial police inspector will extort sex out of a brothel owner in exchange for not stringing up the entire workforce for peripheral involvement with the resistance, but also this is entirely gender-neutral. Something very modern about how oppression is imagined relative to the ‘90s or ‘00s (or just a different genre of self-consciously feminist novel a few book shelves to the left).

But yeah, great book, I am compelled. No idea where the sequel would be going, but will probably hunt it down sooner rather than later.

[greenerteacups]

I think that the main problem with romione is that because jkr didn't want to deal with teenage sex, they took too long to get together and it ended up looking like they are completely incompatible.

Not being able to get together for four years when you are that young, very good friends AND you are bad at hiding your feelings is a big fat red flag for romione that is hard to get over. The narrative tiptoes around it, too, everyone knew they had a thing for each other, Fred and George didn't even make fun of them.

Draco didn't make fun of them! And you know he would!

If they started dating at the end of the fourth year with Harry becoming a perpetual third wheel (or at least in the middle of the sixth year) - that would have been a realistic teenage couple that had a shot at becoming a stable couple in their adult years. Also it would have been hilarious but thats neither here nor there.

When Ron and Hermione couldn't discuss their feelings and reach a consensus even when they were on the run in the forest and the society was their best friend who approved of that relationship - that's just pathetic tbh. They just don't like each other then, come on.

With hinny I think i was just triggered by them as a child, so I can't perceive them at all. Both the description of Harry's love for her (the beast metaphor frightened me, it was so unlike Harry, although now its just feels turbo cringe), and the fact that Ginny had to change into a tomboy popular hotgirl, who occasionally behaved like she and Harry were married for 45 years at least and was never unreasonable or angry with him.... it just sucks

Yeah, I don't disagree about the Ron stuff. I dunno if it was JKR's general weirdness with romance or her not wanting Ron and Hermione to get together early because it would third-wheel Harry and fuck up the dynamic — which you have to imagine is also canonically one of their concerns, too — but it didn't hit for me. In their defense, they are usually Preoccupied With Other Shit, but after a while the bickering gets grating and it ate up so much space in substantially crowded books that I gave up on it. It's definitely realistic; kids IRL will have these miserable situationships that last all throughout high school because they're so petrified of talking about it, and sometimes that's literally all that ever happens.

The problem IMO isn't anything that Ron or Hermione actually do, it's a problem with the author not creating believable chemistry. There are few plots that believable chemistry can't fix, and only few love stories that can survive a lack of it. But chemistry is also in the eye of the beholder.

Also, I think the parts in Book 6 where they make each other jealous on purpose with Cormac and Lavender are just awful, and that's just my thing — jealousy is and can be sexy in romance fiction, but trying to invoke jealousy on purpose is just like. Not hot to me. IDK. It reads as immature and as deliberately trying to hurt the other person, which I don't... okay, well. I don't find it hot in that context.

I like Ginny and Harry together, though.

[9w1ft]

What purpose do you think it served bringing the clown on stage? Why trash your art like this, unless your consider it trash already so he completes the picture? I know Karlie's bearding heavily as well but what would it look like if she brought Josh along to walk the runaway with her?

actually i found the whole thing amusing. and i firmly believe taylor found it amusing and intended for it to be amusing. to me, the bearding is an integral part of taylor’s art. because it is an integral part of her story.

i know many people want the pure unfiltered free and unproblematic version of taylor —an idea of taylor, if you will— that is a beacon and role model example for the community. but might you not agree that taylor hasn’t been that for years now? can you imagine a world where she doesn’t want to be and that’s okay? is there only one specific way that she is allowed to be gay (umbrella term)?

i think present day taylor knows and acknowledges that she is not the Best Gay Artist. people point to miss americana and say oh but she all but said she wanted to be the Best Gay Artist and an Activist, but guys, it’s been 5 years. and i happen to think she’s in a different stage of life and her priorities are different. you can hold her up to the same standards all you want but, woof… five years out and dare i say it’s foolish to expect her to meet them.

there are artists out there now that fit the bill better if you are looking for them. she showcases them a lot!and there are so many in general. those that have the edge she never did. now that being gay isn’t forbidden, being secretly gay isn’t sexy anymore. i think taylor gets that. i think she has been saying it. find another guiding light!

as an unnecessary post script i feel compelled to say one more thing. out of all of her beards, ive always had a soft spot for tom regarding one particular point— because he was willing to wear that i heart ts shirt out at the beach. he wasn’t too proud, he wasn’t ever acting like he was above it, he was never self serious. i saw the same quality in travis in his performance and it actually improved my opinion of him overall. it’s a quality that is distinctly different from how it looked like calvin was. and time will tell with joe because i assume some amount of his demeanor was for the bit but, joe also came off that way too. for me, if taylor is going to beard, which is a reality i have accepted and its a reality that am living in for the time being, i would rather taylor do funny fourth wall breaking wink winky things with the beard than for there to be this weird dynamic wherein taylor has to keep her beard invisible because closeting is Unethical, a dynamic where she isn’t allowed to make art that leverages being closeted because apparently she should be at all times ashamed of bearding. a dynamic that’s always putting expectations on her that if she flags during pride month that it means she’s going to come out, instead of it just being her allowing herself to express herself within her circumstances. bringing him onstage isn’t a slap in the face to me, it’s just her poking fun at her own circumstance, finding the humor in it. making a lark of it.

i dunno fam 😆 i just, i dunno! it worked for me!

[angel-in-your-basement]

hey I hope this isn't too personal but your blog kinda made me realize I'm a sadist and (possibly?) a domme? having lots of feelings about this revelation so I kinda have an odd question as like: how does one get over like cognitive dissonance with regards to self conception? sorry if that's worded weird but like, I'm a huge massive softy with like, hyperempathy type brain nonsense so its kinda hard to imagine myself actually like *as* that kinda person. I'm aware soft-domme type stuff exists but idk like how to put it together in my head? sorry if this is a lil incoherent I just woke up lol. thank you for your kink education stuff and I hope your weekend goes well ^w^

(also any general starting out safety tips are greatly appreciated cuz ngl I'm very in over my head and wanna nip any hazards in the bud before I try experimenting)

Hi there! Not too personal at all, I’m happy to talk about stuff like this. I meant to answer this sooner but I’ve just been too damn busy irl, so here I am now!

When we are presented with new information and our beliefs are not making sense anymore, it’s time to sit down and reevaluate those beliefs. If you haven’t already, I would go look at this post, which goes into more depth about shame and questioning ideas about kinks. Since that post covered shame, I won’t go into depth on here, but we are going to talk about beliefs.

Why does this happen?

What is generally happening in cases like you’re talking about, is that we have formed ideas about ourselves (ex. “I am a big softy + hyperempathetic person”) and about the world (ex. “Sadists are tough/mean/scary/whatever”), and then we create logical conclusions based on those ideas (ex. “I couldn’t be a sadist, because I am soft and not tough/mean/scary”). Which works fine until we get new information that contradicts our conclusions.

What do we do?

When that happens, and we want to resolve it, we gotta find some flexibility in those beliefs! In your case, this might look something like this:

What is “that kinda person”, and exactly what parts don’t fit for you? What parts do fit?

Where did the “that kinda person” idea come from?

Is this always the case? Are sadists 100% like that?

What might someone look like who was very empathetic and ALSO a sadist? How do you feel about the idea?

Why might it actually make sense that someone empathetic would be a sadist?

The whole point here is get a good idea of where the conflict is, why it’s a conflict and then looking for areas of flexibility.

I can’t answer those questions for you, but here is a couple things from my experience that may be useful. I have known a lot of sadists, and just like every other group of people, they vary widely, but my favourite sadists have always been the people who are big, empathetic teddy bears who want to take care of me and coddle me just as much as they want to hurt me. I, myself, am like you, where I am very empathetic but I also very much enjoy psychological sadism.

Part of it, too, is that it just takes time to warm up to these new ideas, and you don’t need to go straight into the hardcore stuff. You can integrate sadism with basically any other kink, and sadism can look a ton of different ways. If it’s more that you like the idea of seeing someone struggling or being afraid, then even stuff like giving someone pleasure or taking care of them can be sadistic. And if you’re more into the actual act of inflicting pain, then you can do it in ways where people are enthusiastically encouraging you the whole time, if that’s what you need. You can also be a sadistic sub! Honestly, I think that’s the wonderful thing about kink - there’s a million ways to mix and match, and cater your experiences to exactly what you like.

Re: starting out safety tips, I think there’s already lots of good resources on this, so look into things like negotiation, safewords, SSC/RACK, red flags, etc. This post is already getting long so I’ll just say one thing that I don’t see talked about enough.

When you’re exploring new stuff and especially new relationships/dynamics, it’s very easy to get swept up by the emotions of it, particularly if you’re a people pleasing type person. All of the bad experiences I have had have stemmed from this - from being too excited and not being able to look at the situation rationally. So imo, it’s important to have clear boundaries for yourself (i.e. I will not do any sex stuff with someone until we have talked about xyz), and to have a plan to keep yourself safe that works under the assumption that you will likely be too enamoured to want to pull yourself away from the dynamic. Having platonic kinky friends really helps with this stuff! What all that actually looks like is a whole other discussion, so I’ll save that for another day.

[dullgecko]

Despite Riz's constant paranoia, its actually really easy to make him trust you and consider you his friend. Hanging out with him, listening to him, agreeing with him, giving him food- He's a lonely kid, he'll ignore some glaring red flags if you were nice to him enough. This is how he was bullied when he was younger, people pretending to be his friends just to do terrible stuff knowing that he would still trust them implicitly because he just wanted friends. Its only because of Sklonda that he stops hanging around those people. But even with the Bad Kids he'll let his boundaries be broken and do embarrassing shit time and time again if it makes them happy, and he just never says anything.

-꒰(˶• ᴗ •˶)꒱

when he was younger Riz had a group of kids he would hang around. Not /hang out with/ of course, they never invited him anywhere but he was in the periphery of their group when they were at school. He counted them as friends because they invited him to sit with them sometimes and shared their lunches. He wasn't sure why they laughed so much when he ate what they gave him but he figured that's what friends did.

Because they were friends he didn't mind when they borrowed his things and inevitably lost them. They might also grab and him and push him around, which hurt more often than not, but they did that with eachother too and they were so much stronger than him so it was probably accidental. He let it go, smiled, and never said anything.

They were friends, so when they invited to him to play with him after school of course he said yes. When they decided to play adventurers he just went along with it. And when they said he had to be the bad guy he had agreed. Their logic was sound after all, the hero's in the books WHERE always fighting goblins so he was happy to play pretend with them.

He didn't expect it to go the way it did, they were supposed to be friends after all. Friends weren't supposed to actually hit you like that while playing pretend. They weren't supposed to kick you when you fell down, or even call you a weird little monster before leaving you bleeding in a field near the school. He'd waited for them to come back for hours, because it was all part of the game right? But when it started to get dark they didn't return he'd picked himself up and limped his way home.

Sklonda had been furious when she finally got home from work, Riz having done a very poor job of cleaning himself up after the game. She'd had to sit him down and explain to him that those kids weren't his friends (he'd argued of course) and made him promise not to hang around them anymore. He promised her he wouldn't, and spent the next couple years alone.

He had to admit she was right though, because now that they weren't pretending to be nice anymore it got so much worse. What was borrowing before became straight up theft, bumps and grabs became concentrated efforts to cause pain (he stopped walking around with his tail out once they realised how much stomping on or grabbing it hurt) and his lunch got taken from him more often than not. He couldn't fight back though, his dad had always warned him what could happen if he did. So he tucked away his claws and hid his fangs behind a pleasant smile and spent the rest of middle school trying to be unseen (he got very good at it).

Penny was the first time he felt what it was like to have an actual friend, even though he was aware that she was there because she was working. She helped him brainstorm on how to make more friends, indulging him by helping with the clue board he kept in his cupboard. He was happy with his one friend, so he didnt put any of their plans for him to make more into practice. But then she's gone, and so are some other girls and he decides he's going to find them because Penny is his friend and that's what you do.

His mom had been worried when he applied to a school for adventurers. They were stronger and more violent than the kids at his last school, she warned, teeth and claws might not be enough if they tried to hurt you. So he took his dads old firearm, kept it hidden away and decided he needed to put his and Penny's old plans into action.

Weirdly enough it had worked and he found himself surrounded by a group just as loud and violent as the kids he used to hang around in middle school. These ones actually invited him to go with them when they went places though, and didn't laugh when he took food they offered him or sigh in annoyance when he talked. They still bumped and grabbed at him (and he tried not to flinch and hiss every time) but their hands were gentle despite their strength, and if they saw him make a pained face they were quick to offer heals and apologise.

It was... weird, feeling what it was like to have actual friends (besides his babysitter). Part of his brain was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

[fatcatlittlebox]

Regarding the 'did sauron make her armor or not drama on X:

It's not even really about canon vs fanon to these 'uM ACTualLY' canon police. They have this weird need to correct anything they see that doesn't fit into their idea of truth, so they have to remind everyone of it.

Regardless if he did or didn't do it, it makes sense in a many people's mind and that brings them fun and joy.

But y'know, we can't have fun and joy over a harmless detail that has no impact on the overall direction of the story. No, because we're little children that need to be sat down and spoonfed what's canon and not because we don't know any better.

They can't have us sharing this harmless idea around and fangirling over its possibility with other people, because for some reason it's like a pebble in their shoe so they HAVE to say something even though I trust that most people who didn't come in only watching the show know better, and even if they didn't and like the idea that he made her armor, there's ZERO harm in letting others have their fun and being considerate and smart enough to know when to stay in your own canon-ruled lane. It's like me telling my little cousin as she's giggling and opening her present that Santa is fake and just a lie made up. Like how is that so hard to understand?

And another thing is, I clearly want to know, if anyone wants to take this rant and tape it to the front of their cars: what sort of harmful or dangerous impact is there to real life if some fans accept this as their personal canon? Hmm? Is it going to make some impressionable minor more vulnerable to an abusive partner? Or not see a red flag in an unhealthy relationship? If the answer is no to either, then really, do better as person and learn to leave shippers alone. Or block something that they don't want to see. Not that hard.

Calling it now - these same canon police will jump to defend any 'fanon' headcanon or theory with celeborn as canon because in their narrow minds, the relationship isn't dark, so of course XYZ might as well have happened and be deemed canon! And trust me, if anyone dares say something to point out the fact that since there's no visual or literal confirmation over a HEADcanon, the same people will jump in and start going 'wELL, THAT'S WhAT wE CalL ImPLiCATiON, because even though we didn't see it happen, it wouldn't go against either character to say that it happened. There's no harm in saying that it's canon as long as the relationship isn't questionable or dark, guys~!

[If all these things are not shown then they are not part of the story] Alright, I'm not even going to go into this one that I saw so I'll let others have it.

Anyways, it's disgusting how some ppl in the fandom just can't let others have fun and feel like it's their moral purpose in life to be pedantic. Also apparently some ppl were acting like they just wasted half of their life thinking there's new info or retrograde confirmation over it bc it spread like wildfire (cause it made some people happy, go figure). Like sorry you were fooled ma'am, sorry you wasted 15 secs of your life for nothing.

Also, they need to look up what the definition of a headcanon is. It might blow their minds.

/micdrop

Ps, if we slap a blonde wig on Halbrand and call him Annatar can we call it a canon gift NOW? Pls O great gatekeepers of what's canon and not, here thy plea! /s

This. But it’s not even about canon, or fanon or harmless or all in good fun. We don’t have to justify diddly squat. It’s what happened! They’re wrong and can sit all the way down. It’s not “headcanon” to interpret with our own eyes the narrative the director, writers and ACTORS are telling us. Are we so cynical and literal that we cannot interpret what is visually implied or metaphorically shown? Everything has to be explicitly said or presented for it to be canon? Dude, what is the point of artistic expression? It’s not even someone’s ability to read the subtext or think abstractly. It’s simply being an intelligent viewer. And I’m not saying the antis are stupid but I think we can all agree that a satisfying interaction and consumption of art is when the artist and audience share the expectation that intelligent observation is required. The antis are biased as you have said and they’re really missing out when they shut themselves off to the deeper, richer thematic story being told.

[five-rivers]

Blizzard

Danny checked his Ghost Time Zone Adjuster Watch (Patent Pending!) and frowned at the numbers on the dial.  It was, in theory, synced to the time on Earth– or at least the time zone Amity Park was in, but he’d noticed it got a little less reliable the further he went from the portal.  

He was hoping it was going fast tonight, because if it wasn’t, well, tonight had just become this morning.  He might have been used to late night and early morning fights, but that didn’t mean he had to like them.  

He’d wanted to get to the Far Frozen and back before he had to get up in the morning, but at this pace, that didn’t seem likely.  The Far Frozen was living up to its name, it seemed. 

But despite its inconvenient location, the Far Frozen was also the only place Danny knew of that was both willing and able to treat halfas.  And wasn’t Vlad.  Vlad didn’t count, for obvious reasons.  

Danny passed a set of melting stairs whose banister was slowly mutating into hissing snakes and the icy islands loomed into view.  He sighed in relief.  Finally.  

He zoomed towards the main island, skirting snow-laden clouds and pallid, sinuous frostworms.  Briefly, he touched down at the edge of the island, internally debating waiting for the yetis to notice him or going closer.  He bounced in place.  If he stayed still too long, he might doze off.  He’d been having some trouble with that, lately.  And he was short on time.  

Mind made up, he took off again, but flew more slowly.  The yetis should be able to notice him long before he reached their settlement at this rate.  

He saw the clouds of ice kicked up by the pair of skimmers before he saw the skimmers themselves and slowed.  The skimmers slowed, too, and they met in the middle.  

“Hi, guys!” called Danny.  “Do you mind if I take a lift with you?”

“Yes, Great One!” shouted the pilot over the engine of the skimmer.  “What brings you here today?”

Danny landed on the deck of the skimmer.  “Medical stuff,” he said, shrugging.  “You can call me Danny, by the way.  What’s your name?”

“Iceplow, Great One!  It is an honor to carry you!  Why, this is the first time I’ve had a passenger who wasn’t from the Far Frozen.”

“Yeah?” asked Danny, stifling a yawn and sitting cross-legged on the deck.  

Iceplow nodded, and launched into a story about how he’d learned to drive.  Danny, sadly, couldn’t pay much attention, because it sounded hilarious.  The skimmer bounced and jolted underneath him, but… compared to his dad… sleepy…

They skidded to a stop and Danny forced himself awake.

“Here we are!” announced Iceplow.  “Safe and sound, as promised, Great One!”

Danny nodded and smiled.  “Thanks for the ride.”

Upon hopping off the skmmer, he was swarmed.  He was maybe a bit of a celebrity here.  Way more than he was in Amity Park, which was weird because he’d never intentionally set out to save the Far Frozen.  It had just sort of happened, incidentally.  

Usually, he’d love the attention, but tonight, with how tired he was…  He started to flag immediately.  But the crowd scattered away, suddenly respectful.  

“What brings you here, Great One?” asked Frostbite, rescuing him.  “Unless I miss my mark very much, this is an unusual time for you to visit.”

Danny nodded, a less tired part of him making a note to figure out how Frostbite knew it was a weird time.  “I wanted to ask you a few, um, medical questions, if that’s okay?”

Frostbite sobered immediately.  “Are you ill?” he asked, clearly troubled.  “Have you been injured?”

Danny shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I was kind of hoping you’d be able to tell me.  I mean, I don’t know if this is something normal, or a ghost thing, or a halfa thing, or something else.”

“I see,” said Frostbite.  “In that case, we should go to the infirmary and do a thorough assessment.  If it is troubling you, after all, then at the very least it is a change to your normal status.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”  There were places to sit down in there.

Frostbite lifted Danny to sit on his shoulders.  Danny caught himself listing sideways, into Frostbite’s horns, which was really quite rude, twice.  

The infirmary caves, carved deep into the ice and rock of the Far Frozen, were kept meticulously clean and brightly lit.  It would be easy, down here, to forget that he wasn’t in a hospital back on Earth.  

… At least in some places.  In other places, the machines and equipment being used was definitely not intended for humans and the raw walls of the tunnels showed through.

Danny stared at the labeled diagram of a blob ghost on the far wall, his eyes too unfocused to make out the words on it.  A sharp buzzing sound rang in his ears.  The thought that he could steal a nap crossed his mind and was reluctantly discarded.  Or, rather, it wasn’t so much discarded as… Well, it would be rude, wouldn’t it?  To fall asleep like that?

Frostbite cleared his throat, a human habit he’d definitely picked up from Danny, jolting him out of his reverie.  “Let’s start with the symptoms you are experiencing.”

“I’ve been tired all the time.  But when I try to sleep, I just can’t.  I’ve tried getting myself to wake up more, and I’ve tried coffee, and I’ve tried wearing myself out so I’ll sleep, but…  Nothing seems to work.”

“Well, there are a few different things that could be.  Let’s start with some simple tests…”

Frostbite started with things any doctor would do.  He weighed and measured Danny, listened to his heart, took his blood pressure, tested his reflexes.  He also repeated most of Danny’s tests in both forms, took ‘aural photographs,’ and checked the energy levels of his ectoplasm.  Then came blood tests, x-rays, an MRI, an ‘ectoplasmic resonance scan,’ an ectosignature typing, and other, weirder tests.   

“Hm,” said Frostbite, looking down at the test results.   “Interesting.”

“Interesting bad, or interesting good?”

“Nothing bad, no.  I believe I may be able to do something to help,” said Frostbite, finally, “but may I ask a favor of you in the meantime?”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

“You see, I may have to consult with some of our experts, but they’re largely occupied with the children today.”

“Children?”

“You haven’t met them before, have you?” asked Frostbite.  “You have spent most of your time in the warrior’s camp.”

“The–?”  Any other time, Danny would be asking questions, but he knew that if he did now, the explanations would go in one ear and out the other.  He shook his head.  “You want me to watch them.”

Frostbite shrugged.  

Well, it couldn’t be any worse than trying to babysit Youngblood.  And it would make him feel better to actually do something useful, instead of just waiting for Frostbite to find something to fix him.  

Frostbite led Danny down another series of tunnels, then outside and up over a series of hills.  Danny started flagging right away, but Frostbite slowed to accommodate him. 

They crested one more hill, and then Danny saw it.  A wonderful, fantasy play structure that would fill any child under ten with avarice.  A finely detailed medieval castle, with slides, swings, climbing walls, and anything else you could think of, down to what looked like an accurate trebuchet and functional portcullis, all made of glass-clear ice.  Within the play structure were five small yetis.

Danny gasped and clutched at Frostbite’s arm.  “Oh my gosh,” he said, “they’re precious.”

They were small.  Well, smaller than the adult yetis.  Even at this distance, Danny was pretty sure the smallest one was at least as tall as he was and probably had at least fifty pounds on him with how fluffy they were.  

“How old are they?” he asked

“Hm, let’s see,” said Frostbite.  “Icepack is the oldest…  Snowflake is the youngest… so that would be…  They’re between fifty and two hundred and fifty years old.”

“They’re what?”

“Between fifty and two hundred and fifty years old.”

“Frostbite,” said Danny, “they’re older than me.  How could I watch them?”

Frostbite chuckled.  “I did not actually say that, if you remember.”  He gently pushed Danny forward.  “All I said was that I needed to speak with the experts here.  We do not have to go anywhere else to do that.”  Once more, he urged Danny forward.  “Please, Great One, go play.”

“I don’t…”  He looked back at the ice castle.  The children had definitely noticed him, and they were coming out.  Their eyes were sparkling.  

He couldn’t disappoint kids.  

As Frostbite went to go join the other adult yetis, who were sitting on a bench a short distance away, he approached, trying not to look nervous.  “Hi!” he said.  “I’m Danny.”

“I’m Snowflake!” said the tiniest yeti in an adorably squeaky voice.  “I’m a girl!”

“Everyone knows you’re a girl!”

“He doesn’t!”

“Yep,” said Danny, giving a shaky thumbs up, “I don’t know anything about any of you, so…”

“He’s Cryosphere.  His parents had to give him a really fancy name to make up for–”

The tallest of the yeti children put their hand on Snowflake’s head.  “I’m Snowpack,” they said. “These two are Featherice and Candleice.”

Snowflake beat Snowpack’s hand away.  “Are you a boy or a girl?”

“Uh,” said Danny, who had been prepared for a different kind of interrogation altogether.  

“‘Cause if you’re a boy, then we’re even, because Snowpack and Cryosphere are boys, and Featherice and Candleice are girls.”

“I guess I’m a boy, then,” said Danny.  

He got the distinct impression he was being sized up.  “Then you can be one of the princesses with me!  We can have a girl princess and a boy princess, then, and it’ll be fair.”

“You can’t have a boy princess,” said Cryosphere.  “He has to be a prince.”

“Princes are the ones who rescue princesses,” said Snowflake.  “Princes get armor, and princesses get crowns.  That’s how it works.”

“I know a princess,” said Danny, hoping to at least derail the brewing argument.  “She rescued herself, and she ha-aa-aaaawhn.”  Danny was unable to keep himself from yawning.

“You,” declared Snowflake, gravely and with great importance, “are sleepy.”  She tapped his nose with one claw.  This froze the air inside his nostrils and he sneezed.  

“Ahhhh,” said Featherice, “your sneeze is so cute!”

“Sleepy!” declared Snowflake again.   

“No,” he said, defensively.  At least for human children, being sleepy would be seen as uncool.  He wanted to be cool.  

The little yetis stared at him judgmentally.  

“I think it’s naptime, anyway,” said Icepack.  “So, why don’t we do a blizzard, then take a nap?”

Snowflake gaped at him, betrayed.  “I don’t need to take a nap.”

“It’s not very fair to tell someone else they need a nap, then not take one yourself, is it?” asked Icepack.  “We can all take one together, okay?”

“Um,” said Danny, “a blizzard?”

“It’s a type of group work,” said Candleice, quietly.  “You let your ice go together and shape it together.  In a blizzard, the snow comes and tucks you in, then you take a nap.”

“O-oh,” said Danny, “I don’t know if I should do that, my ice powers, um…”  He glanced over at Frostbite, who gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up.  The children were looking at him expectantly.  Danny caved.  “Okay, we can try it out.”  He could always just… not put any power into what they were doing.  

He was, upon agreement, promptly dragged into the castle’s courtyard.

“So,” said Icepack, “first, we get in a circle, and we all hold hands.”

The yetis lined up in order of height and Danny, the shortest, carefully took the clawed hands of Snowflake and Icepack.  

"Now, we start walking in a circle…"  Danny mimicked the yetis around him.  "And we wave our arms up and down.  Then we take cold in through our left arm, and out with our right.  Pass it around."

Danny had never done anything like this before, but the momentum the yetis were building made it easy to let the cold wash through him, sending ice feathering up his arms and around his shoulders.  The feeling plucked at his core, and, finally, he gave in to the feeling, adding a thread of his power.  

"There we go.  Good job, everyone."

A few meters above the circle, a storm swirled, building and building.  

"Alright, now change directions."

Danny stumbled a step, but fell back into the loose rhythm easily.  Snow began to fall from the clouds above, faster and faster, until even the constant movement of the circle didn’t stop them from having to wade through snow.  Snow gathered heavily on Danny’s shoulders, in his hair, his eyelashes.  The shifting white in front of him could have been Snowflake’s back, but it could just as easily be the snow.  He could hardly see his own hands, and definitely couldn’t see his feet.  

“And break!”

Everyone let go and threw themselves into the high bank of snow that had gathered outside of their circle.  More ice energy burst out as the circle broke, the power they were channeling and building escaping into the air and making it just that much colder, the snowflakes just that much larger.  There was some muffled giggling as the children flopped around and knocked snow onto one another.  Danny was promptly buried.  

“Naptime now!” called out Icepack.  The other children quieted.  

Danny sighed and flexed his hands, which were still bleeding cold energy.  He wanted to get up, but it’d be better if he was a good role model, right?

Although… This was pretty comfortable.  Nice and cold, the right temperature for his core, the snow underneath conforming to his body, the ever-increasing weight of the snow above, the dark and quiet, also increasing.  

Frostbite and the other adults were watching, too.  Maybe, just for a moment…

.

The blizzard cleared.  Not too long later, the five little yetis burrowed out from under the snow.  

“You were very mature, today, children,” said Frostbite, passing out little flavored ice treats.  “Thank you for your help.”

“He’s so little!” said Snowflake.  “He’s even smaller than me.  Did he really fight Pariah Dark?”

“He did,” said Frostbite, “that’s why it’s so easy, sometimes, to forget that he is a child, just like all of you.”

“Not that any of you should go off fighting strange adults any time soon!” said Driftice, their main caretaker for the day, swooping in.  “Humans age differently, and he had been a human for most of his existence.”

“Aha, yes, that is true.”

“Chief Frostbite,” said Snowflake, tugging on the end of his cape to get his attention back. “I have a question.”

“Go ahead, little one.”

“Doesn’t he know ghosts don’t take naps?  He’s got to know that, if he beat up Pariah Dark.”

“Well, he was human.”

Snowflake frowned.  “How do humans become ghosts?” she asked.  

Driftice glared at him from over Snowflake’s head.

“Oh, dear, look at the time.  You’re all late for your hunting lesson.”

“No, we’re not,” said Snowflake, even as the group was hurried along by Driftice and the other caretakers of the day.

Frostbite sighed and made an ice chair for himself.  He waited, amusing himself by making small sculptures, not something he got much practice at, with his duties as chief.  

Several hours later, the snow shifted and a rather disoriented-looking Phantom dug his way out of the snow.  “Huh?” he said, looking around.  “What?”

“You fell asleep,” explained Frostbite, putting aside his latest sculpture.

Phantom’s eyes widened.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Perhaps not, but I meant for you to.”

“What?” asked Phantom, bewildered.  

“To put it simply,” said Frostbite, “you were too stressed to sleep, Great One, and somewhat overheated for an ice core as well.  I’m sorry for the deception with the children, but I wasn’t sure you would agree to rest, otherwise, and that’s the only cure for these things.”

“I,” said Phantom, frowning.  “But–”

“Do you feel better?” prodded Frostbite.

“... Maybe,” said Phantom, quietly, guiltily.

Frostbite smiled gently.  He handed Phantom one of the ice sculptures.  It was a simple thing, a series of spheres within spheres.  

“Everyone needs rest, Phantom.  There’s no shame in taking it.”

“But what if…”  Danny rubbed his thumb over the sculpture.  “What if something happens?  How long was I asleep?”  He flailed a bit more and freed a hand from the snow.  He glared at the small watch around his wrist.

“Then something happens, and you deal with it well-rested.”

Phantom, in a way that was far too adorable considering that he had no fur and hardly any fangs, pouted.  “Frostbite, I was asleep for over eight hours.  I’m going to totally miss school.”

“And do you feel better?” prompted Frostbite again.

“... Yes.  But I really have to go, now, or else my parents will totally blow up at me.”

Frostbite was glad he knew that was a colloquialism.  “You can always tell them you were kidnapped by a ghost.  It’s even true.”

“You’re terrible,” said Phantom.  “But…  Thanks.  I might take you up on that."

[xp95]

rambling again (radqueer getting worse, "ACRQ"?)

i was talking to someone irl about radqueer stuff and how it's sorta gotten worse (more pro contact, more anti consent, less philosophy / interesting discourse, more focus on stuff i find personally disinteresting like dating / transharm transitioning, less focus on other transIDs and paraphilia education/advocacy).

i was talking about how the radqueer space has got 'more and more groomers', he was saying 'they always weasel their way in when people don't kick them out'. on one hand, radqueers are notably uncaring when someone is pro contact or anti consent. but on the other hand - it's partly Tumblr moderation's fault - i've tried to report anti-consent people, people literally identifying as being 'pro rape and not in a roleplay sense', and they don't do much. Or if they do ban the account, the person just makes another the next day.

also he agreed that being 'uncaring about contact discourse' is weird and i feel validated right now. (yes! it is good to care about bestiality and child-adult sex being abusive!! someone else can see the obvious thing!!)

he brought up (paraphrasing here,) "maybe there should just be a community that like, radqueer but specifically not letting pro-contact and anti-consent people in" and i was like yeah... why isn't there just an "anti contact radqueer" community... i feel like this could be a thing.

brainstorming about "anti contact radqueer" being a thing:

a tag/space/ideology/community for radqueers who want to stop being in 'the same community' with people advocating for sex between adults and children, and bestiality

it feels a lot more simple than making Another blankqueer stance. it's just... radqueer but anti contact. so much more simple, and not tied to a specific aesthetic or person.

i think the "anti contact" part should be specifically about MAP & zoo. it's kinda irrelevant to bring up stuff like "what about objectophilic contact" (we all think that's fine), or "what about necrophilic contact" (i think the community generally agrees that you should just respect someone's wishes for what happens after they die. and if they donate their body to necrophiles, then its their right to do so)

branding:

could be abbreviated to something like "ACRQ", so it's easier to type/tag. i don't think anyone else is heavily invested in using this acronym

cat mascot would be fun

emoji combo could be ❤️🌈🍓. (anti contact red heart plus radqueer rainbow-strawberry). it looks pretty but is maybe not colorblind accessible? (for red-green colorblindness especially, since the pro contact symbol is a green heart). alternatively, there's 🔒🌈🍓 (anti contact closed padlock) but the closed and opened padlocks are hard to differentiate for me. also there's 🌳🌈🍓, but people don't often use the plant emojis to indicate contact stance. (my reference for the emoji codes)

the flag:

there's vocalux's anti c para radqueer flag. tbh i dont like this flag very much - no hate to the creator, i don't want this to sound mean - but i would design it differently. the semi-transparent Xs are hard to replicate. i don't really like the colors. i would like a flag that is more obviously radqueer… like with a spectrum like the popular one maybe? maybe i'll try to design my own someday if i feel like it

the pre-radqueer flag is very swag and aligns a lot with what i'm thinking, but "pre-radqueer / not radqueer enough (ironic)" is slightly different in concept to an "anti contact radqueer" flag

i'm thinking we should have something very obviously radqueer, but distinguishable from the general radqueer flag.