#look the man's a hypocrite but he's an equal opportunity hypocrite and you have to give it to him

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 20

I literally got second-hand anxiety hearing, “How many numbers do you think you’ll have by tomorrow?”. I was like. TOMORROW? They are Not ready. The only reason the rooftop works out is because they’re the fucking Beatles. No one else would pull that out of their butts so well. 

If only John could’ve listened to Glyn about Klein. smh

Classic Paul. Starts out saying “us” ends up just talking about John. “The best bit of us always has been, and always will be, is when we’re backs against the wall and we’ve been rehearsing, rehearsing, rehearsing. And he knows it’s a take on the dub. And he does it great.” It’s okay, Paul. We all know you like to get him up against a wall. No but seriously, Paul is not okay about John. 

Takes every opportunity to flirt, doesn’t he?

“I can’t wait to work here, you know . . . I mean, here in our life, it’s like home.” It’s the gentleness, yeah. But it’s the focus, too. Most people (I know I would) would be so done with him and his anxiety spirals and his neuroses and over-thinking on and on and on by this point. John probably is, but he shows no sign of that fatigue at all. He is zeroed in on working him through this. He’s done it a million times before, and he’s ready to do it as many more times as Paul needs. Ugh, they make me into such a sap!

“Yeah, well that’s why I’m talking to John, not you.” If Paul can talk like that to George Martin, one of the most respected men in his life, when he’s in the middle of a thing with John, imagine how he must’ve bullied other people that tried to worm their way in. 

That smile he gives George though! That’s how he got away with all his shit, isn’t it? So fucking cute.

“I agree with you, I think it’s disappointing, but all right, we only got to seven. Let’s do seven.” The tone of voice, man. So. Fucking. Gentle. No wonder Paul can't stand the projected "acerbic, tough Lennon" shit. If that was how someone treated you and took care of you? And then everyone acts like that part of them just didn't exist, and emphasizes the parts of them that they themselves hated and actively worked against? Yeah I'd be pretty pissed too.

Glyn reassuring Paul that there’s no reason they can’t come back and do a TV show later. Yeah, fifty years later. 

John’s eyes constantly flicking back to Paul as George is talking . . . 

George really does take so much better care of himself than the other three at this time. Pictured here, silently begging viewers like you to chip in just ninety-eight cents toward his freedom.

I actually think, though, that if Ringo had said he didn’t want to go on the roof either at that moment, that they wouldn’t have done it. I think they look to him for common sense in their decision-making, and Ringo saying he didn’t want to do it really might’ve broken the whole thing.

George’s reaction to Ringo voting for the roof VS John. It’s giving tragic heroine VS villain origin story

Honestly heartbroken at the “I love you, blue”. How many times did John just straight up say those words to Paul only for Paul to be completely unresponsive? That genuinely hurt to watch.

The tiny little looks they give each other. “Okay. We got this.”

“Fuck all that. I’m just gonna do me for a bit.” Good for you, baby. 

“I had a good dream last night, you’re black or you’re white, you want equal rights.” I know some people say it’s hypocritical or preachy or whatever, but I ADORE this John. Look how fucking happy he’s making Billy right now and then talk to me about how John’s political side is meaningless. I think it’s beautiful.

I think it’s actually too embarrassing for them at this point to sing Two of Us without being insane.

“We’re all sleeping at Georgie’s tonight. Get in the mood.” Oh how I wish they actually had. I mean, maybe they did. Someone write the fic!

Oh, the “who knows, Yoko,” moment. It’s so embarrassing. The fact that there was just no response whatsoever. Yeesh. 

So many nerves when I saw the camera zooming into that circled date with “Rooftop Concert” written on it. What is wrong with me?

[yukishirostar]

So people are talking about a post in the Zolu tag by a certain tumblr user in regards to their issues with Zolu as a ship. They shall be unnamed because i dont wish to bring attention to them and instead just want to focus on their arguments because they're not the first people to make some of these points and so this is also an opportunity for me to talk about these things (a tweet is going around on Twitter containing these screenshots with the username so you can find it there if you need to anyway).

The way this person dismisses the relationship between Zoro and Luffy as a result of needing to pair gay Zoro with someone is too laughable, they must be very fit in order to be able to do these mental gymnastics. I believe that many people who are going on about the Zolu scenes in the OPLA were already Zolu shippers who were familiar with the original story and are enjoying the moments because they were well, really good Zolu moments? And there is actually, shockingly, many good Zolu moments in the original story too which is why many people ship them. Wild, I know.

Then there's 'straight-washed Sanji'. Equally if not more of a bizarre thing to believe. I might make some people mad especially the Sanji stans out there who constantly insist on the 'repressed queer' narrative with his character, but Sanji is written pretty explicitly to be seen as a cisgender and heterosexual character. The way you say with your whole chest that Luffy is 'canonically' aroace but don't acknowledge that Sanji is 'canonically' cishet is beyond hypocritical. If you believe Sanji looking like a 'misogynistic straight man' is different from the way he is written in canon then maybe you should go back and reread/rewatch series with your eyes open this time. If you wish to headcanon him with the frankly offensive repressed bisexual/transgender cliché then go ahead, but that is clearly not the intention Oda has with his character.

There's also the fact that aroace people can uh. Be in relationships. Get married. Have children. Did it occur to you that many people who ship Zolu ship them as an ace couple or-

First thing I want to say here, as a trans man who is 'mlm', can other dudes stop with this idea that women or fem-aligned individuals enjoying homosexual relationships between two men is inherently fetishising or that as a masc-aligned individual your enjoyment of a ship is morally superior in some way. Stop pulling out your 'mlm/ transmasc / cis gay' card in order to justify why your ship is superior. Its cringe af.

But if we are to insist that 'cishet female gaze fetishising mlm' is going on then ironically Zosan fits that the better than any ship in the fandom. It being by far the most popular mlm ship means there is likely a higher proportion of people who identify as cishet women who ship it. Its also the classic 'two men who dislike/hate eachother and have a toxic relationship but hot sexual tension' slash/yaoi stereotype. Majority of Zosan I've come across is depicting Zoro as the masculine male man in the relationship while Sanji the effeminate twink that Sanji stans project themselves onto and they go crazy for the bickering that is apparently reminiscent to them of a toxic heterosexual marriage. Meanwhile every Zolu/Luzo shipper I've interacted with has been some flavour of queer and Zolu is closest to the 'falling in love with your same sex bestie' narrative that the majority if not every non-heterosexual person has experienced at least once in their lifetime. This is just my personal view of course, but I think noting a difference in perspective on this topic is interesting and reveals that at the end of the day this is totally subjective and based purely on anecdotes.

Also it's just a very weird point here that apparently OP has 'plenty of varied queer rep' (it actually doesn't have that many canonical queer characters in relation to its cast size but anyway) and other media doesn't so shipping aroace characters in gay relationships is valid in those but not in One Piece … HUH???? So you're saying if One Piece had 'less' queer rep, then Zolu would be fine to ship? Idek my brain hurts.

"I have black friends so I'll speak for the black community and get offended for them" (btw this person then proceeded to block aroace people who had issues with their depiction of aroace people).

Also if we're talking canonical depictions, the only thing Zoro has been canonically depicted as is also aroace, equally if not moreso than Luffy. So by your own rules, you can't ship a cishet (sanji) with an aroace (zoro), therefore Zosan is now invalid. Stop erasing Zoro's aroace identity bigot.

'Categorically wrong' makes me laugh. I don't ship Zoro and Nami but like, people can ship what they want to??

'The general public is aware enough of gay people and how to spot them these days' uh... firstly this sounds very homophobic. Secondly the general public (cishet ppl) are famously bad at recognising queerness even when its in flashing lights before them. Thirdly you make it sound like Zoro was going around on roller skates and booty shorts listening to YMCA and Madonna in the show. I do agree he was gay-coded but it was mostly because he had sexual tension with every man he interacted with, not for the strange reasons you pointed out...

Its kinda the elephant in the room too but like. These are just headcanons. You can have multiple headcanons and interpretations of a character's sexuality. I can see Zoro as aroace virgin one day and a gay h*e the next. I'm actually allowed, legally, to do that.

The way they think shipping Zolu is harmful to aroace representation when BOTH characters are closest to being canonically aroace than anything yet ship Zosan, label being anti-Zolu as some kind of pro-ace activism, and then proceeded to block aroace people for criticising their incorrect depiction of what being aroace is...

This was a lot of words to say that you don't like a ship. Just say you don't like it, and it gets in the way of the ship you like, instead of writing a virtue signalling essay to justify your reasoning. Please.

They had some more to say on future posts I'll just pick my favourite bits

They really have this narrative that Zolu is only popular because of OPLA and can't fathom that its just a popular ship in general and always has been huh. And they couldn't make it more obvious that they're totally salty about it ranking in the top 100 most popular tumblr ships, lmao.

Your classic case of 'self-identifying ally who speaks over the people they are supposed allies of'. Its a general rule that you feel the need to declare yourself an ally you're probably not an ally, actual allies know they need to just shut up and do the work. Saying 'this character's aroace' and 'I have aroace friends' actually isn't what allyship is, thats just accepting that ace people exist which is like... the baseline.

Calling a wholesome loving ship like Zolu an icky ship is a severe consequence of online brain (this person is 26 years old btw)

[vee-crytraps]

Hiiiii

I hope you're doing good, not good criticism aside.

Now, this chapter 🧑‍🍳💋 as always

There's so much to unpack good god.

The fact that Bruce forced everyone on an outing bc missy I ignore and isolate my daughter and then get mad when she goes looking for a more receptive father figure? It's so dad of him lol. Like, you're the one basically forcing your daughter to go look for love demonstrations that actually make her feel loved and not controlled, attention, understanding and quality time and then have the audacity to be mad, plan a shitty trip and then disappear. Honey, thanks for trying but you gave us absolutely nothing.

Dick mentioning how it was him and Bruce the ones to take Robin away from her says a lot about his character. I swear to god am equal parts attracted to your Richard as much as I am holding a personal Vendetta. Girl, get out of the stage please (and he's reenacting Mia's Goth "Please I'm a star!" Scream while we kick him out).

I don't feel good about being proved right like Barbara, good god, I feel so fucking bad 😭😭😭😭.

Jay bird baby, why are you out here proving me right? I don't wanna be. I need the fanon uwu coquette version of him to heal my heart. When he was I'm going back without any regard for batsis? Girl, I needed to take a deep breath and hold onto my heart pieces. Jay, Jason, my love, no. Immediately no. That was literally your only line.

Damian, and I AM biased, love you. He's so intense lmao, same boy, same. But when Nadia came? I put down my phone and punched a pillow. I could never. I'd probably die hahahahhaah

Can't hate her, she's giving enabling bad influence young aunt and I love it. Dick, you're stepping up to your nickname hun.

Also, the scene by the lake? Sorry, I literally want to slobber him up and hydrate his beautiful caramel skin with my saliva and tears cause he's so hot and then kick him in the balls and assure he doesn't have any offspring that could potentially come out as dumbassy as him. But him getting to know about Damian? Hihihihihihi I was rubbing my hands together.

This is just where my imagination went, batsis with Damian and Jon (sorry, I just love them together, they make a great pair and balance each other out). Dick's face would be so fucking funny.

Also, not him being "you shouldn't continue that". Shut up. The fact that you hurt her doesn't give you the right to assume Damian would. At least not the same way as you. And we all know he has already begun to ruin her opportunities at getting to know decent people (as Nikolai is described as) so don't act like you actually have her best interests in mind. You are so hypocritical Richard Grayson agh.

Also, Jon as always being THE knight in shining armour that he is coming to save the day. Dear heavens, can he be anymore sweethearty? Impeccable job, as always Jonathan Kent, immaculate. Clark, we salute you. Thank you for healing us and giving us a speck of hope in man kind (by this I mean actually men, not humans).

I may be a bit disillusioned with the girls. Come on sugar, please include your little sister innnnnnn. Barbara, stop being my representation in the story, I can't stand it. I just don't want to be right about the boys 😩

But it hurts so good!1!1!1!1!1!!1!1!1!

Anyways, thanks for such an amazing chapter.

Ignore people who don't appreciate it. I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

Xoxo - 🫀

Ah, you have no idea how happy it makes me that you slid in here before I shut off my anons!!!

This is totally a shitty dad trip, this is for real a thing my dad used to do when I was a kid lmao. Dick is the mooooost complicated one of them all simply because batsis is like a piece of his childhood. I mean he was in his teens when she was adopted, but she was around long enough to know him from top to bottom. Much like Bruce he's got this caged bird attachment to her haha He does think he's doing good for her by steering her away from Damian and others, but it's the kind of 'I'm sure i'm right' that just so happens to align with the fact that he wants to wait until he's good enough for her. Jon is a very very lovely guy! Clark raised a good boy, but I hope everyone remembers that they're also superheroes! And aliens, who canonically don't experience or understand the entire range of human emotions. The venn diagram is only almost a circle. The truth is, most of these boys have been shot, stabbed, torn apart, mind controlled, broken every bone both indidivually and together, murdered and brought back to life in a goo that makes you crazy, broken then put back together both correctly and incorrectly emotionally and mentally; wooooof they are not okay. But they want to be! For her! They just have to learn a hard lesson first! Bruce has set the example that your civillian life is where you cut corners and make sacrifices- which does not bode well for batsis, who is attracted to people who were raised by him haha. Not to mention, her entire existence is her civillian life. Bad luck fr! Things will get better! Remember this leads into KMM where everything is sexy and happy! Thanks as always for dropping in. As you can guess it was pretty discouraging knowing I put like 90,000 words into creating this universe as a whole and then having someone tear it down with a few hundred. I very much needed this <3333

[originemesis]

@poisonedspider xxx

"Ha ha ha. Yeh're soooo funny." He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he realized that his favorite resident bartender wasn't even here. Which only made it even that much more depressing that Adam was at the bar. Alone. "Yeh'd be so lucky. Guess it's yeh' luck that Charles isn't exactly into that sort of thing. Not really great towards the whole redemption look." Not that he would touch Adam with a ten foot pole. Ever. Even if the guy was kind of hot. He hopped over the bar, two of his arms rummaging through the many bottles of alcohol that Husk kept stored up, while one of his other free arms grabbed a glass. He was listening to Adam talk, one of his many other free arms basically mocking the angel, puppeteering his hand in a display of 'blah blah blah', because he really didn't give a fuck what this guy thought. Not after what he had done to himself and his friends. He poured an extra strong double of gin and tonic, finally leaning against the bar, far enough away from Adam, but closer than he had been. Angel and boundaries? Non-existent, typically. But he also wasn't in the mood for a fight today. He'd already experienced that with fucking Valentino earlier. "If yeh' didn't think it was all that great, ah' don't think yeh' would have fought so fuckin' hard tah' make sure that none of us could be redeemed." He pointed out, sipping at his drink in amusement. "Besides, anything has tah' be better than this shithole." He was certain of that, and he wasn't going to let Adam take that away from him. Hope had been something that had started to drive the hotel. "Either way, yeh're stuck here now asshole, so might as well at least try tah' get along with us, yeh' hear?"

With his chin propped on knuckles, the talons below give a flex from forefinger to the last crooked tip and then back again as if the mustered mirth he's met with is but a scuttling roach (heaven knows this dump had em) that had yet to pass by close enough for him to squash with a firm ram of the wrist. Of course, he's technically supposed to play nice to match the whole theme of the place, right?

Yeah right. This was temporary residence until that buffering TV fuck could figure his busted helmet out enough to fashion it back together again. After all, he's not keen on showing his face around hell after all the mass genocide, but hey...it wasn't like hellizens weren't out committing mass murder and other deplorable acts in the brimstone streets on the daily; they could stay hypocrites and mad for all he cared. "Lucky to miss a blowie from a professional whore? I mean, you're not exactly selling yourself as relatively STD-free here, now are ya?" And he's not exactly selling himself as lacking in all the cunt he's providing as a so called 'dickmaster', but hey! That's equality for ya.

As the sinner scrambles over the bar, he considers the amount of arms all performing their own duties, including mocking him and makes a note of which one for whenever he gets the opportunity to twist it, a smug twist of his lips settling at the thought. Nudging the lid of his glass against his lips in a notably awkward fashion (still accustomed to ingesting liquids and the like via a face shield and a well timed, mouth shaped portal) the man makes it a point to annoyingly slurp the last bit of the potent Pepsi before jangling the leftover ice around, which he showed no signs of stopping until there was more liquid to be leeched.

"Spoilers, slutbag: hell is generally the end of the road. Always has been. No one's fighting to keep you here. You and the rest of them chose to be. Not such a great gift- that free will, huh~?" Neither is the persistent sound of ice jangling, but it's what he's getting. "Nothing's ever actually free. Somebody always pays the price..." With a shrug, he leans into his knuckles more, considering just how many of Lilith's last batch of his seed surrendered amalgamations were still scuttling around, blissfully unaware they'd been thrust into a half aware sentience just to fall to the concentrated fury of a creator that cared as little for them as his own.

Maybe God was down here after all.

"There's a lot more to this shit than any of you realize, but be my guest thinking otherwise. Forgive me if I don't make like your landlord and queef a rainbow." Though he will abandon his instrument of half melted ice in favor of shifting a suddenly summoned axe in his lap where he could busy his talons with tuning it with tinkering twists and occasional plucks. "Come to think of it, wasn't that the plot twist of... oh yeah. Season five. 'Taste the Cumbro?'"

[shimmerbeasts]

*peeks from afar* can you tell me what you like about writing Mel & Silco? And also maybe about Caitlyn & Vi? I'm curious.

I am going to assume this is about the ships I have with @ferallfemmes / @ferinehuntress as I technically do not write Mel or Caitlyn as characters.

The interesting thing about Mel/Silco was that it wasn't really planned as a ship. Back when Panda and I started developing the idea of pollution in the Pilt, forcing Mel Merdarda and Silco into this unlikely partnership, it was done more so because we both wanted to explore a more political/diplomatic scenario. Something, neither of us had ever really written in-depth, so you can imagine how daunting it was for us.

At the same time, as we started on this journey, we quickly realised that Mel and Silco clicked almost immediately. I am not even sure if I would call it a romantic ship yet. However, it became apparent to both of us that Mel and Silco had the ability to work on equal grounds, which was probably a rarity for them both. They are both very crafty, cunning and driven, but also in some morbid ways do care about the people, they are in charge of. Yes, my Silco cares about the denizens of Zaun, even if his care is questionable. It also helped that Mel and Silco recognised the predator in the other being. They knew they couldn't just manipulate/walk all over the other and they actually respect one another.

This dynamic is really interesting and enjoyable to me because it allows me to explore an angle with Silco, which I normally shy away from/get little opportunity to explore. And that is how this man negotiates, how does he do politics if he is in a situation where he cannot just threaten someone into submission. The fact that Silco and Mel respect one another so deeply also means that there is no backstabbing involved or weird one-upping. I think that is nice. Not every dynamic between two characters from Piltover and Zaun has to be wrought with tension. Instead, the tension comes from how the outside world reacts. Plus both are aware they are kind of making a secret deal here. Like Mel is putting her career in jeopardy and Silco runs the risk of being called a hypocrite.

Outside of that, Silco and Mel just have chemistry. They are outsiders in Piltover and while their cultures are still very different (militaristic violence vs animalism), they still find ways to bond and connect with one another over the small similarities where their worldviews do overlap. Again, their mutual respect is a huge part of what ensures that chemistry exists. I wouldn't even really call them a power couple, even though I am sure the fandom would love to use that term. For me, it is more like two equally cunning predators saw and recognised each other's strengths, encouraged those strengths and aided each other. I really believe how Panda and I write this, Silco and Mel will come out of this with a long-lasting partnership, that just happens to sometimes make them sleep with one another if the interest strikes them. However, I doubt they will be an item. They are work partners, perhaps even friends, but not in a romantic sphere.

Now onto Piltover's Finest as the fandom likes to call this ship. I am gonna level with you here, guys: What Panda and I write really does not feel like it fits the label. Like yes, it is Vi and Caitlyn as a couple, but it is an extremely specific kind of dynamic to the point that this gif here is just these two plotting something in default. Or well, Caitlyn in half-Zaunite/Vastayan rage mode venting about probably some Enforcer's stupidity, while Vi stuffs her face with food and waits to pipe in.

Another detail I wanna add, which is important to understand the significance of me even writing this ship at all: I normally do not really jump on the big fandom ships. Never have. It was like this in the Supernatural fandom, it was like this in the Fantastic Beasts fandom, and for a while, it looked like this would also happen in the Arcane/League fandom. Obviously, I am not holding it against anyone, who ships the big-name ships/more popular ones. To each their own. I just normally do not really do that, preferring more niche, twisted, toxic ships.

Anyway, then Panda's Caitlyn came along, Vi took one look at her and went "That one! I want that one as my wife!" Basically, you all can blame Panda and her amazingly canon-divergent, deeply layered Caitlyn for me finally jumping on the bandwagon. Even so, like I said: The way we write this ship, is very much not like Fanon does it at all and even the ship name does not really fit with our dynamic.

Sometimes, two muses just click. That is what happened between Vi and Caitlyn when Panda and I started writing. Within a couple of replies, they just clicked. It was like they were on the same wavelength almost immediately. Furthermore, Panda and I chatted a lot OOC and we too clicked hard as writers. Thus the romantic attachment between both developed almost seamlessly.

Now what exactly do I like about our ship? I think, first of all, it is the fact that Caitlyn and Vi can be themselves around one another. They do not have to put up masks, they do not have to put up walls. Vi can be completely Zaunite and messy around Caitlyn, but also soft and tender. Meanwhile, Caitlyn can allow herself to be more feral and sharp, while Vi just remains a patient support throughout it all.

Second of all, it is this non-verbal communication style. Vi and Caitlyn have a love language, which seems to exist outside of the typical five love languages. Perhaps they even embody all of them to varying degrees. Furthermore, I love how their own love especially shows itself in this sense of protectiveness. They care so deeply for one another and watch over one another. It is just lovely to write.

Again, it is really hard to describe why exactly Vi and Caitlyn appeal to me specifically in the way they do with how Panda and I do it. I think it is because we go beyond the fanon interpretation. In fact, I think we do not even take Fanon into account. Instead, we are able to create a very deep and rich ship, which has, of course, the potential for a lot of fluff. But even our fluff has this strange sharpness and wildness to it. It basically strikes this balance between being the popular ship but also incorporating so many things, which I like. I am sorry I cannot describe better why I am so drawn to writing the ship with Panda. It just works and has its own strange, wild charm. It certainly helps that I can be as weird and experimental as I want to be with how Vi shows affection and it still works.

[jellyfitzjelly]

directory's commentary on the sladick series? ('Tis but thy name that is my enemy)

HOHOHOHOHO okay so! I don't know where to start....

Originally this was supposed to be a one-shot to relieve the pressure of my oncoming finals, and then stress made me write a sequel, and things just got out of hand.

I think if you follow me you've seen me reblog posts critical of the B*tfam (doing this to avoid my post showing up in searches) becoming a nuclear family, so I am aware I do look hypocritical making Sladick a nuclear family. The truth is that the trope has always appealed to me as equally if not more than the found family trope. I have been brought up in a deeply hetero-normative environment where starting a family was kind of the ultimate goal even if members of my immediate family never did so. It took a lot of time in that situation to even figure out I was queer. So I think it has conditioned me a lot on the subject!

Nonetheless, I still rationalized my choice to make Dick and Slade form a "traditional" family though I never explicitely explored that in my series. Since I've been heavily influenced by my pre-Flashpoint reads, I wanted to portray the B*tfam as anything but a family. Bruce never fostered that kind of environment with any of the kids, with Jason being the relative exception to the rule. Bruce has always seen Dick as his equal, though he is not entirely conscious of that. They shared a deeply traumatizing event of their life and that made Bruce relate to Dick intensely. Dick got parentified at a young age and held to the same unrealistic standards Bruce holds himself to. Bruce grew up without a traditional family structure. Dick, on the other hand, had a deep need to find in his new environment the dynamics he had with his parents before their death. While Dick never consciously considered Bruce as his father, this man was the father figure of his childhood. The thing is that Bruce never behaved as a father or as a caretaker, instead pushing Dick in that role. It left a deep wound on Dick, who found himself without the parental structure he so desperately needed. It deeply impacted his adult and love lives. Dick subconciously sought to recreate that familial environment he so desperately lacked, be it with the Titans or his romantic partners. His romantic failures and the disband of the Titans dealt a huge blow to him and his stability, and after that it was a slippery slope to depression. Slade, on the other hand, had grown up in a traditional familial environment, but one that was violent and abusive. Like many, Slade took the first opportunity to escape his situation. The military offered him a stability he had never known with the familiarity of violence. And again like many, Slade vowed he wouldn't be the father his own was, though he did end up like him in many ways. Slade is a family man. His family is deeply important to him, and losing it was a huge traumatizing event in his life and something he never got over. Grant's death only drove the knife further in the wound. While Addie and him have a truce, he is not on speaking terms with either Joey and Rose because he has come to see himself as a threat to them and, deep down, as worse than his own father which brings a lot of self-loathing. But Slade still subconsciously yearns for that stability that a traditional nuclear family represents. I also think Slade has weathered enough shit in his mercenary career to be able to actually settle down for good. So it's only logical that both Slade and Dick would eventually start a family of their own, even if they have to navigate this blind and do things in their own way.

Jason was the "relative" exception in that Bruce did treat him more like the son he never had before his death. Jason idolized Bruce. After his return, there was a definite rift between them. Jason never forgave Bruce for not avenging him. His relationship with Dick was more "in absentia" before his death, an impossible standard Bruce held Jason to. Concerning Alberto, I have a lot more to say, but I don't know if I will ever write a spin-off centered around him and Jason.

Tim had parents and so never considered Bruce more than a mentor. In fact, the one he idolized was Dick. They really bonded together, in part because Tim already adored him but also because Dick felt guilty about Jason's death and had many regrets, and felt like he had a chance to "make up" by becoming Tim's older brother of sorts. Their relationship was very affectionate, and they had a solid friendship. Bruce got jealous, and felt Dick was trying to take his place. Eventually, Dick and Bruce had a huge fallout that ended up permanently damaging their relationship, and Tim had to pick a side. Dick felt betrayed and deeply hurt to see Tim chose Bruce over him, and their relationship never recovered from that. While they did stay in contact, and Dick eventually forgave Tim, things never went back to how they were. This is one of Tim's biggest regrets, and he holds himself responsible for Dick's depression. Dick actually made a suicide attempt at some point, but Tim rescued him in time. It traumatized Tim, and scared him quite a lot, especially since Kon had just recently died. Eventually, Tim distanced himself from Bruce and became Red Robin to pursue his vigilante career in another city, leaving the mantle to Damian.

I don't know enough about either Cass or Stephanie to write about them, so I've left them out of the story so far. It can def change in the future!

Joey might make an appearance too, mainly because I want to explore Slade's past.

Uuuh hope this long ass infodumping pleased you anon!!!

[batmanrogues-scenarios]

HC Time! I have alot, so buckle up!

Arkham Asylum DOES allow a limited range of enrichment in their facilities, like books, nail polish, & other low risk items.

While Batman is universally hated by his rogues gallery, many of them DO have a level of respect for him just because he's an 'Equal Opportunity Crime Fighter', although they also think he's a hypocrite for the whole 'I don't kill, but I'll beat you so bad you wish I did' thing.

Jon let's Harley do his nails when they both find themselves in Arkham.

Some of the Rogues stopped interacting with Joker when Harley broke things off with him. For Rogues like Ivy, Catwoman, the Dork Squad + Honorary Dork- It's out a mutual respect for Harley & hate of Joker.

You Physically Cannot Room Music Meister With Anyone Besides Mad Hatter- While MM & MH get along with the other rogues well enough, the only people willing to put up with either of them on a daily basis for months at a time is eachother. This is actually how MM & MH became friends & why some of the other rogues MH associates with put up/become friends with MM.

Music Meister & Harley as actually really good friends, but due to the Arkham separating the inmates by sex, they can be roomed together.

Similar can be said for Riddler & Scarecrow, even then the two of them will bicker like an old married couple, it's safest to room them either alone or with eachother.

Almost everyone in the Dork Squad smokes; Riddler likes his vapes & occasional cigar or cigarette- Especially when offered one by Penguin. Scarecrow is the worst- The man will always, without fail, keep a pack of cigarettes & a lighter on him, Man smells like a chemical plant fire. Mad Hatter isn't much of a smoker, but he likes the occasional bit of hookah now & again. The real exception is the Honorary Dork, Music Meister- He wants to keep his voice in peak performance for as long as possible, but has genuinely considered trying it at least once.

Since Harley is good friends with both Scarecrow & Ivy, she's gotten them both to agree not to experiment on eachother without the others explicit consent.

Oh wow, you sure are full of ideas! Let's do it in points.

Yeah logical, normal Asylum allows this type if stuff I think

I honesty prefer versions of Batman when he beats them just enough to be put in Asylum without problem; but if we're looking at Arkamverse I 100% agree

Lol, it's a fun image

Most rogues just fucking hate Joker but works with him for benefits

I love the idea! They absolutely would have sleepovers and just spill the tea together. Also Harley being friend with MM is so cute

No one can listen to Riddlers rambling while Scarecrow just makes people uncomfortable

Riddler with vape makes me chuckle, it probably smells like mint; Scarecrow absolute does it; I can see Jervis doing pot but no real cigarettes, I don't know drugs fit him more; and yeah no way MM would even get close to them

Yep, when their experiments mixed the whole flat of Asylum had to get evacuated

[silentmeteorite93]

The Leaping Gazelles 33/34

Shackles

Years of emotional entanglements and encounters with different women have failed to make him stop, and the man refuses to admit his evil from the bottom of his heart. He considers all his escapades to be childish at best plus coldness, never mentioning that the heartlessness and cold-bloodedness he advocates equally drains the other person's emotions and makes the sensitive and fragile person he admires even more prone to self-doubt. Hypocritical and selfish, he'd had to hypnotize himself into thinking that his tolerance for certain things was just surprisingly low, which was the only way to rationalize his irritability and lack of patience, which could only be found in humans.

He'd walked in and out of those uncharted waters during the most productive decade of his life, still unsure of what he wanted. So he just drifted on while he still had the comfort of more time, choosing to fight his anxiety with wanderlust. If you really can't make a decision at the end of the day, you might as well let time help you eliminate a few answers. His fear of and resistance to love, marriage, and having children was groundless. The certainty of seeing those around him firmly on the so-called right path of no return. The man began to think about what he could leave behind, and the pain was still only the shallowest manifestation of the quest for authenticity. He didn't believe he could fight time in the world or in himself or in their minds, just the beauty of the moment was enough for a man to be satisfied in the present, or just do his best. Flesh can be beautiful because of its fragility, and feelings can naturally be romantic because of their sensitivity.

In one parting, he loses the ability to mock their harmless mistakes, and all hell breaks loose, and personally buries their opportunity to tolerate him. The versatility and uniqueness of each face makes a man thankful for what was once his good fortune and what is now their happiness. Was the praise and deep affection of the time a passing fancy, and in the midst of the sweet talk if a choice were really made, what difference would a man's position be compared to that of a stranger. Souls that wanted to complete their atonement through pain were everywhere, and men relied on searing them to punish themselves as well as to keep warm at the same time. In the long hours of contact, he had come to decide that a fire without combustibles was too small to be worth mentioning.

Maybe the man shouldn't have walked in the snow nine years ago when her car was in front of his own at the door several times, repeatedly fleeing the even colder warmth of the interior without looking back. Unable to convince himself that that guilt would end there he had to kill himself with his own hands every night before he went to bed and then reconstruct a whole new self when he woke up the next day. The demons in his head are also eloquent, and the fights and debates between them never stop. Feedback and advice from all kinds of friends around her are on the side of the demon, and the man is nothing more than a man who needs to take on the world and himself.

She is a masochist who is afraid of pain, he is a sadist who doesn't want to hurt others and wants to be a self-mutilator who tortures himself by hurting others. The man needs to fight himself with a non-existent hatred of the world and an outlaw hypnosis of himself, he needs to have a next level of aesthetics in order to rationalize the proposals of the demons in his head. He needs to sell himself on the fact that the two options of a muffled voice or a swollen throat he's given them to choose beforehand can be reached at the same time.

This particular mask, which was more than many, was only worn on special occasions only. He was glad he had this key to a special world, and even more glad he was here to heal himself and spread joy. Perhaps the hotel where he was staying that day was too empty and the corridors too quiet, and the man decided to rediscover the limits of this stranger's sonic range for a change. He was bummed that he forgot to explain the use of the safe word and had to start over after the meal. Looking at her sweat-dampened hair clinging to her skin, her hot, translucent red face, the deep eyes of the swirling lake that sailed past the fast boat. He couldn't bear to admit that this seemingly inspired safe word was one he'd actually induced no less than two-digit numbers to adopt.

More and more often, the man found that his behavior began to seek more than just visual beauty and a degree of possession; he began to wish that the pain of the flesh could be equally imprinted on the mind. It was probably the change in age that started him wanting to leave a mark, even if he was the only one in the world who could understand the meaning of it. He wasn't the only one inside that dream house, and there was also the occasional other man with a whip in his mouth while he stepped on the chain. Even another person could stand side by side with him and enjoy all this bashing and abuse with him. The most affectionate and romantic of them all, he is the best at leaving scars for others and himself, cooking up sin that is both fragrant and highly toxic. He hoped that one day someone would find himself in the palm of his hand, like an anchor in a ship that sinks together.

He needed this alternative way of expressing love, this pure mastery that could be distinguished from instinct. Maybe it was absolute power, maybe it was the brief relief that came from not needing to care about the other person, maybe it was the chance to block out that hesitation, maybe it was the bluntness that was all he needed to vent his anger until the end. Correction and severity may be too much in the face of praise and consideration. It was a similar conclusion that was actually easy to come to, yet it could easily shatter the pillars of his spirit. He began to yearn for the kindness and warmth that he was better at in his own right, that white mask was only easier for him sometimes when it was removed, and as long as it remained within reach it was enough to make him feel at ease.

[nijjhar]

Matt 26v14-25:- Evil-spirited Mammon lover Thief of the Judah tribe Juda... Matt 26v14-25:- Evil-spirited Mammon lover Thief of the Judah tribe Judas Iscariot was a TRAITOR. https://youtu.be/-x9Pvwy5bUM Description is too long. I have put it on my website:- http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Matt 26v14.htm Holy Gospel of our Supernatural Father Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc., delivered by the First Anointed Christ, which in Punjabi we call Satguru Jesus of the highest living God Elohim that dwells within His Temple of God created by the demiurge Potter, the Lord of the Nature Yahweh, Brahma, Khudah, etc. and it is called Harmandir or “Emmanuel” according to Saint Holy Gospel of Jesus Christ according to Saint Matthew 26,14-25. One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot that was thrown out of the Wedding Banquet of the Son, Christ Jesus into the Darkness that the Temple Priests had created, went to the evil-spirited chief priests of Darkness and said, "What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?" They paid him thirty pieces of silver as all the Apostles were very efficient in Preaching the Gospel Truth that a stranger will not know who is the real Christ Jesus but the insider of the evil-spirit Judas Iscariot knew as the evil-spirited Temple Priests knew who Jesus is directing the Last Parable of Wine Press, the Jerusalem Temple that made the moral laws as today the COE is changing the New Testament that God is not our Father but Parent giving equal representation to both male and female in flesh but the Gospel is for our supernatural souls and not the physical body to whom the moral laws apply. In other words, the COE Priests are super Blind in that they glorify the two world wars soldiers and others such as the viceroys who killed and looted the people as to have glorified God, which is Mammon whereas the much despised Salvation Army proclaims that their soldiers died for the king and country, the Gospel Truth. And from that time on he looked for an opportunity to hand him over. On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, the twice-born Brethren and not the once-born disciples of the crook Messianic Jews, the Temple Priests who were fit for no other job than the Priestly corrupted the New Testament making the situation worse than before the arrival of Christ Jesus, approached Jesus and said, "Where do you want us to prepare for you to eat the Passover?" He said, "Go into the city to a certain man, who had just built a new spatial House representing the Churches of the New Covenant of the holy spirit, which is common sense (Here, also remember that the Tomb in which the Body of Jesus was laid was also “Virgin” befitting the Second Adam Yahshua; Yah = Yahweh and Shua = Shiva = First Primordial Adam born out of Yahweh and Virgin Mary) and tell him, 'The teacher because God Himself in the name of His Anointed Son Christ of the name Yahshua says, "My appointed time draws near; in your house, I shall celebrate the Passover with my Labouring Brethren and not the disciples of the Rabbis, the moral teachers."'" The twice-born Brethren and not the disciples, a corruption by the Messianic Jews who killed the Apostles then did as Jesus had suggested to the Freed Men and not ordered to the slave Disciples, and prepared the Passover. When it was evening, he reclined at the table with the Twelve. And while they were eating, he said, "Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me." Deeply distressed at this, they began to say to him one after another, "Surely it is not I, my Brother and not Lord that have slaves introduced by the evil-spirited Messianic Jews – Matt 12v43-45?" He said in reply, "He who has dipped his hand into the dish with me, Judas Iscariot, the greatest hypocrite who put on fanciful robes and loves to be addressed as Fathers in the Churches today show to the people that they are men of God but love Mammon and positions in the Churches, is the one who will betray me and they, Metropolitan Bishops with big head gear to frighten the simple-minded childlike devotees in the Churches betray today. The Son of Man indeed goes, as it is written of him by our Supernatural Father Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc., but woe to that evil-spirited hypocrite man as the Catholic Bishops killed many Cathers by whom the Son of Man is betrayed. It would be better for that man if he had never been born, a rebuke that was enough for Judas Iscariot to kill himself after the death of Jesus. In India, we had the people of the Khatri tribe, who were Kings and Emperors of Darkness, sword power was used to kill their stooges in Mammon." Then the hypocrite Judas, his betrayer, said in reply, "Surely it is not I, Rabbi, the way these hireling Dog-Collared Priests and their stooges would say when you tell them that in Christ Jesus everyone is to give his own account to God................ Trinity:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/trinity.pdf

[reiayanamiisbestgirl]

Hello

I am Natalia, segment of Il Dottore, second of the Fatui Harbingers. A prostheticist, a battlefield medic, and a true scholar. It’s an honor to travel with you and study how you operate.

Chat:

(I’m not sure what Natalia would chat about)

Chat:

Chat:

When Thunder Strikes

Lightning is an underutilized power source

When It Snows

Keep your boots and gloves on, lest your toes and fingers join my collection.

When the Sun Is Out

AH! I have to get inside, my skin is too pale!

When the Wind Is Blowing

(cant figure out)

Good Morning

I watched you sleep, I can recommend a segment to fix your snoring issue. What experiments are on the agenda for today?

Good Afternoon

The afternoon is the perfect time for study and research. The day has been set in motion, almost everyone is focused on their work, almost.

Good Evening

It is time to clean up the testing materials and write up the reports.

Good Night

Good rest is required for a functioning brain. You can’t sleep? My tranquilizers will help.

About Natalia: Education

The Akademiya is not the only way to gain medical expertise. They’re hardly worth the cost as well, their rules are oppressive to true research. There should be no boundaries to what can be studied, how else will scientific progress be made?

About Natalia: Extra Arms

 Friendship Lv. 4

 These arms were a gift from Il Dottore himself. I am surprised he has the heart for gifts, but I suppose I am just so good a scholar that I am worthy of his gifts. They are useful too, the titanium aluminum alloy they are made of makes them lightweight but durable. I can work twice as fast as the other segments with them.

About Us:

 (I’ve already used test subject so I don’t know what else)

About Us: Test Subject

 Friendship Lv. 6

Your ability to wield the elements without a vision or delusion is fascinating. I implore you to volunteer for my research, I could make a praise-worthy breakthrough by studying you.

About the Vision

 Friendship Lv. 4

Visions are marks of those claimed by Celestia, and serve little use to me. Yet I still wonder what I could have done to receive one? Has the God of Wisdom herself looked upon my research with favor? How hypocritical of her, to allow Il Dottore to be cast out, but to grant me a Dendro vision. Well, I’ll take my praise when I can.

Something to Share

I keep the frostbitten extremities of careless soldiers preserved in jars. They serve no use other than decoration, but I enjoy teasing the younger segments by showing them the jars.

Interesting Things: Prosthetics

Divine knowledge is easy to integrate into prosthetic limbs. The benefits outweigh using delusions, if you wish to risk the chance of losing your mind. I consider that more safe than the guarantee of growing old and sick at an accelerated rate. 

Interesting Things: Irminsul

 Friendship Lv. 4

The roots of Irminsul run long and deep, and the branches shed leaves of knowledge unable to be comprehended rationally. To distill knowledge into an understandable form to implant in prosthetics is a tricky process. First it must be harvested from the trunk or a thick enough branch, and left to drip like maple syrup. Then it must be run through a machine to pick out the impurities of forbidden knowledge. This step must be repeated until a substance resembling primordial water remains. Finally, it is bottled into cartridges and put into prosthetics. (This is what I can imagine based off of theories but if anyone has any better ideas please share)

About Webttore

 Friendship Lv. 4

He is a disgrace. I don’t understand why he acts the way he does, no matter how much I and the other segments study and analyze his every movement. I’m convinced he is on to us, and outsmarting us. Coming from the mind of the same man as I am from, he has equal competition in intelligence. He thinks through his stupid decisions, as if he is choosing to be a moron. If I was allowed to kill him, I would take the opportunity and use his corpse for my research. He’s more useful to me as a corpse than an annoyance.

About Omega

 Friendship Lv. 4

He and I get along well, out of all the segments he is one of the few I can stand. He too wishes for his freedom, despite his mission privileges.

About the Tsaritsa

 Friendship Lv. 4

Our Majesty The Tsaritsa is a noble woman. To go against the gods who have given her her power in exchange for her loyalty is admirable. She is an inspiration to all, I only wish I had the bravery to leave for my studies as she has had to disobey The Heavenly Principles.

About The Jester

 Friendship Lv. 4

He is a very solitary man, I hardly see him outside of official business. (If you guys think there’s more that could be added lemme know)

About The Captain

 Friendship Lv. 4

He is powerful already, I’ve seen him in action, but imagine how powerful he could be with augmentations I make for him. (Need help with figuring out what else to say about him)

About The Doctor

 Friendship Lv. 4

My creator, my father, I’m honored to share his title. His curiosity knows no bounds. (Need help with figuring out what else to say about him. Natalia would know a LOT about him.)

About Damselette

 Friendship Lv. 4

(Unknown, I don’t think she would find her weird bc she is technically ranked above her)

About Arlecchino

 Friendship Lv. 4

Ah, the Knave. She has never liked me, and I only seek her help when necessary. She is less grateful for research than the previous Knave. As far as I am concerned, the only thing worth studying about her is the properties and uses of her blood.

About The Rooster

 Friendship Lv. 4

(Unknown, she doesn’t care for politics)

About Marionette

 Friendship Lv. 4

She is an exceptional test subject. Her robotic body is a wonderful basis to model prosthetics off of, and her science based mentality makes her a good lab partner. I find it fascinating how it holds the human soul of Alain Guillotine, I have based many of my soul powered prosthetics off of that. It brightens my day when I am sent to deliver research notes and materials to her lab.

About Regrator

 Friendship Lv. 4

Pantalone is an intelligent individual, yet he forgets he taught me all his tricks. How foolish of him. I don’t deny he is skilled at manipulating the flow of money like a puppeteer, a scholar of economics. I’ve learned much from him, enough to always secure funding for my experiments.

About The Fair Lady

 Friendship Lv. 4

She visited often, and would observe me as I work. I thank her for imparting her knowledge to me, I trust her as she has graduated from the Akademiya. I consider her a true scholar. What I find fascinating is the fire she wields and the flames in The Knave’s blood are made of a similar chemical composition. It implies the mutation of the Crimson Moon is able to be artificially made in humans. May she and her lover be reunited in death, and be reborn in the new world together.

About Childe

 Friendship Lv. 4

He is as stupid as Webttore, unconsciously. I cannot blame him for being that impulsive with his body, many times I have had to patch him up after his battles. His politeness to me is appreciated, but I don’t patch him up out of the kindness of my heart.

More About Natalia: I

You thirst for knowledge as I do? Perhaps we will get along better than I thought. 

More About Natalia: II

 Friendship Lv. 3

My two responsibilities go hand in hand. My work as a prostheticist is what I research for The Doctor, and my job as a battlefield medic allows me to gather data on live subjects in the field. Efficient, isn’t it? But repetitive, I patch up the same ungrateful imbeciles each time with nothing new to study. 

More About Natalia: III

 Friendship Lv. 4

Segments have many choices for names. Some choose to keep their original designations, others such as I are given new names by many means. My designation and original name is Xi, as tattooed on the back of my neck. But you have only heard me named “Natalia”. I’ll impart this knowledge to quell your curiosity, The Regrator was the one to rename me. It’s predictable what The Doctor will let slide to get his funds. He only stood to gain from allowing Pantalone to call me “Natalia”.

More About Natalia: IV

 Friendship Lv. 5

I will be honest with you. I am conflicted inside. I yearn for the affection and praise from The Doctor, as any child would from their father, but I know I cannot receive that without gathering knowledge for him. It is my purpose in life, and I am failing. The answer is so simple, but he won’t allow me to reach it. With the freedom to explore Teyvat, I can gather more knowledge in my field and be useful enough for his praise once again. But of course, I am too useful to his life, I have to be his right hand to keep replacing his organs. It’s pathetic to be forced into repetitive work but punished for being unable to gather more knowledge. An example of an Oroboros. An Ouroboros that ends with an outside hand strangling the snake, what use does a snake encircling itself have to anyone?

More About Natalia: V

 Friendship Lv. 6

You ask why I don’t quit the Fatui and leave the lab on my own accord? Well, I’m better off in the lab with the Fatui than outside it. Not by much, there are many downsides and I am stagnating in progress. But to be unable to gain funding and continue my research is what I risk if I leave. If I would be allowed to leave at all, in the attempt I could be discontinued for knowing too much. I hope that one day a miracle will happen, I will make a breakthrough, I won’t be failing in my duty anymore, and I’ll earn my right to leave.

Natalia’s Hobbies

(Fighting webby or medical malpractice or something idk)

Natalia’s Troubles

The persistent pestering of the other segments is impeding my work.

Favorite Food

A simple meal of warm soup and candied ajilenahk nuts is all I need to get through the day. Soup is easy to prepare and functions as both a food and a drink. Halva's sturdy, geometric nature makes it portable and efficient to eat while working.

Least Favorite Food

Dishes with too many steps are scientific procedures, not food. My specialty is prosthetics, I don’t have the time to conduct a biological experiment outside of my field. 

Receiving a Gift: I

I am impressed, you disproved my hypothesis on your cooking skills. 

Receiving a Gift: II

Tastewise expected results, no breakthroughs.

Receiving a Gift: III

This is bad, I wouldn’t even give it to Webttore.

Birthday

I have been informed that it’s your birthday. Happy Birthday, come visit the laboratory. I’ve kept Webttore from eating your cake, mind your step so you don’t slip over his body. I’ve prepared a gift for you as well, these wrist braces should strengthen your grip on your sword and on the scruff of the neck of that floating creature.

Feelings About Ascension: Intro

 Ascension Phase 1

 (Unknown)

Feelings About Ascension: Building Up

 Ascension Phase 2

(Unknown)

Feelings About Ascension: Climax

 Ascension Phase 4

 (Unknown)

Feelings About Ascension: Conclusion

 Ascension Phase 6

Thanks to you, I’ve been able to upgrade myself. (I should add more but idk what)

would u like to help me with writing Natalia’s voice lines?

sontbejrbe I can give it a shot! Not sure how good I'll be with it but I'd be happy to help when I can!

[shen-daozhang]

i don't have time to fully articulate this right now but the similarities between Hua Binan and Mo Ran?? Especially considering how much Hua Binan fucking despises Mo Ran and thinks he's stupid and violent and only good to be used as a puppet and a blunt object? When Mo Ran is actually similar to him? And does he deep down recognize this and that's why he hates Mo Ran so much, because he sees himself reflected in the things he dislikes about Mo Ran?

[radjoy]

i got really into learning about radical feminism over the summer and became quite a man-hater and then. i fell in love with a man. and i feel guilty with him because i still hate men and thats my least favorite thing about him, but i also feel guilty in radfem spaces because i love a man and it feels hypocritical. thoughts?

my math could be off here, but the summer ended not too long ago - how many months have you been a “man hater” & how many months have you been in love with this guy? i feel like both might be under 6. i feel like being in love might be under 3. neither of those are a very long time. just be aware of that. i personally would need more than three months to know someone well enough to declare i was in love with them, but what i think doesn’t matter. your thoughts are what matter, so try thinking about these:

“i still hate men and that’s my least favorite thing about him” let’s get more specific. you hate dating a member of your oppressor class, on principle? you hate that he’s a man because you hate having a power imbalance in an intimate relationship? because men are inherently misogynistic and he’s sexist towards you? because you’ve been socialized to give his opinion more weight than your own and you find yourself deferring to him? what about your relationship would change if you were dating a woman? are these things he can change? why hasn’t he?

these are all reasonable things to feel. the fact that you’re feeling guilty about “wronging” men in some way by being a radical feminist kind of concerns me point blank, but especially since this particular man has been a significant part of your life for less than a year. why do you think you owe it to him to pretend you don’t notice the damage his sex class has done to yours? doesn’t he owe it to you to learn about radical feminism and confront his role in society? doesn’t he owe it to you to try and understand why radfems are piv and nuclear family critical, to understand and appreciate the risks you’re taking by dating him?

if you feel guilty for having a political ideology where he is a totally equal citizen free from violence, how would you feel about asking him to move across the country because you have an amazing career opportunity? is he feeling the amount of guilt you’re feeling when his boss snaps at him and he calls her a bitch to his brother? does he think he’s betraying you when he hears his friends mocking their girlfriends? is he sending women online messages worrying about how he went to strip clubs before he met you? is he causing you more guilt and stress than he’s alleviating? is he actually improving your life?

at the end of the day, i’m a female separatist. i’ve decided that men are generally untrustworthy, that it’s kind of a crapshoot how a man will act once he thinks he’s got you trapped, and that it’s not worth building a life with someone who has a good chance of pulling a 180 on me. but this is not a conclusion i reached after 6 months of being a radfem, it was a conclusion i reached after 5 years. and my entire life experience, and the life experience of older women i connected with.

you’re operating with a lot of guilt, in general. you also sound pretty young - you have time to figure all this out. you have time to decide what your life will look like.

i would encourage you to continue reading radical feminist texts and feminist texts in general, build up your relationships with other women, talk to older/elderly women about their experience in long term relationships with men, and don’t get into any situations with this guy that you can’t get out of (like a lease). give yourself time to look at the world with the new understanding of radical feminism.

[changingchances]

About the Trial and the Comments I’m Seeing Far Too Many Of

So... I didn’t really think I was going to get as sucked into this trial as I became. But I just want to share a small thought on Amber Heard and her supporters. Quick disclaimer, I am aware that this was a defamation trial and not a criminal case regarding abuse. That being said, there was quite a bit of evidence that popped up in court that indicate that Amber Heard behaved in manners considered abusive and violent. And I see many people claiming that either that is simply untrue and she was not abusive or violent, that it was reactive violence, or that she could act in violent manners and it not be abusive because she is a younger women.

These are not all of the arguments I’ve seen, however these are the most frequent and simultaneously the least logical that I’ve been exposed to.

And here's my hypothesis: It’s entirely possible that Amber genuinely believes that she was never abusive and that many of her more radical supporters believe this because of the simple fact that women perpetrating violence is (a) not necessarily as widespread, (b) not necessarily as obvious, and/or (c) nowhere near as condemned as when such behavior is exhibited by men.

If someone in the public eye is called out as abusive and someone else realizes that they have some experiences and behaviors in common with this public figure, this can create a lot of cognitive dissonance and the most comfortable explanation is going to be that neither the public figure or the people who behave similarly are abusive, because the alternative is having to face that perhaps they are. And that can be frightening and painful. Now, I in no way believe that this describes all of Amber Heard’s supporters at all. I am certain that many who do support her have their own reasons that they find logical and that resonate with their own situations. The above speculations are specifically about many comments that I see condoning violence on a woman’s behalf but condemning it otherwise.

Also important- the potential reasoning stated above does not excuse the massive amount of sexism, misogyny, misandry, and general hatred that has been presented by many Amber Heard supporters in the face of a man coming forward to attempt to clear his name. I find it hypocritical and overall deeply insensitive, considering many Johnny Depp supporters have experienced trauma through DV and SA themselves, and the overwhelming response to these supporters is “he’s not going to fuck you”. That is disgusting and in my opinion does not make you a feminist or a proponent for equality. 

And before anyone tries to turn it around and tell me to look at all the awful things the other side has to say about Amber Heard and the trial, let it be known that I take issue with people looking at this trial like a football game or a soap opera overall and I don’t excuse hateful rhetoric on either “side” of this trial.

All in all, I am glad that Johnny Depp was given the opportunity to tell his story. It warms my heart to have seen the incredible support he received. I truly believe this is a step forward for all individuals who have experienced DV, and I am glad that we can move towards a society that may be more so in favor of examining evidence before ruining anyone’s career or livelihoods. I’m also deeply relieved that this trial is over and I will likely never post anything anywhere about it again.

[qqueenofhades]

... Remember the Russian Revolution au? Which ended with Fedyor's sister very sick and Fedyor searching for Ivan in hopes of getting help for her from him? Fedyor finding Ivan and offering to do "anything" in exchange for his sister's medical treatment? Ivan secretly wanting Fedyor, but refusing to take what he wants like that? Soooo... I would also like the big the big 3 of your coming projects to happen, but... y'know... just.... wanted to bring this au up again... ;)

Behold, the oft-requested follow-up to the first two Russian Revolution au ficlets. Ahem.

Fedyor does not sleep that night. He does not even think about sleeping. He only leaves the army headquarters long enough to think hard about what he is proposing to do, wonder if it is worth it, and decide that it is. Katya needs the medicine, he has no other recourse, and he is categorically unwilling to return home to his family as a failure, when they have placed all their trust and hope in him. Ivan has hinted that he might be able to obtain it, and so that, no matter what it takes, is what Fedyor will have to get him to do. And for that…

He knows that he is not unattractive. He has dark eyes, dark hair, a dimpled smile, a personable and friendly manner that, in happier times, attracted the attention of many an eligible young lady who wished to ice skate or promenade around the park or take a carriage ride, as courting Russian couples are wont to do. However, while Fedyor was perfectly happy to chat with ladies, or escort them to a ball, or fulfill his essential chivalric duty, he was not otherwise interested in wooing them. It was partly for that reason that he signed up to the military, where an enterprising young man can have other opportunities in the darkness of the barracks. So long as his family was kept conveniently unaware.

For all that the Bolsheviks have overthrown the government without a clear plan as to what to do next, and accordingly plunged them all into this miserable civil war, Fedyor does secretly sympathize with certain of their beliefs on the remaking of family life. They say that marriage is outdated and bourgeoisie, that monogamy is unnatural, that women should not be subject to patriarchal systems, and that homosexuality is an equally valid state of nature. Such a possibility of sexual classification and divergence is much discussed in Europe these days, and there is even a small but growing scholarly literature, written by eminent scientists. Sexual Inversion by Havelock Ellis, published in 1896, argues that the man-loving man is indeed even a possibly improved form of human, associated with superior intellectual and artistic achievement, and that nothing about his attachment is wrong or abnormal. Two years before that, Edward Carpenter wrote Homogenic Love, and in 1900, the German Elisar von Kupffer published an anthology of homosexual poetry, Lieblingminne und Freundesliebe in der Weltliteratur. Such texts are relatively easy for an educated, French- and English- speaking young Russian intellectual, such as Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, to lay his hands on. He is not sure what can come of it, but at least he knows that he is not alone.

The question remains as to Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov’s proclivities. Unless Fedyor is very much mistaken, Ivan was at least considering the possibility of accepting his offer, and turned it down for honorable, moral reasons, feeling it unjust to sexually extort a young gentleman in exchange for his sister’s care, rather than physical horror at the idea of such a coupling. If he’s a Bolshevik, he’s probably acceptably tolerant of their philosophy on an abstract level, but it’s less clear as to whether that extends to its personal practice. If Fedyor turns up in his bunkhouse – which, come to think of it, is probably shared, curse these Bolsheviks and their dratted communality, highly inconvenient for a midnight seduction attempt – scantily clad and willing, will Ivan’s objections hold out then? Or… or what?

Fedyor doesn’t know, but the uncertainty adds to the frisson of shameful excitement, rather than detracting from it. He searches through the streets of Chelyabinsk for some bread (it does not seem in much greater supply than in Nizhny Novgorod) and waits for the sun to go down. In March, the days, though getting steadily longer, are still short and chilly, and it’s bitingly cold when it gets dark. Then he pulls up his muffler, tells himself not to be unduly precious about it, and heads for the makeshift army quarters on Kirovka Street.

The buildings in downtown are beautiful, built in the Russian Revival style of neo-Byzantinian splendor, though the onion-domed Orthodox churches have all been converted into stables and armories, and anything that whiffs of an ideology contrary to the Red one has been economically discarded. Fedyor reaches the door, knocks, and when a disgruntled sergeant comes to answer it, expecting him to be a soldier out too late and in line for a ticking-off, Fedyor raises his hands apologetically. “I’ve come to join up,” he says. “The great socialist cause of the world’s workers is the only true one for a patriotic Russian man, and I vow it my full allegiance, if you will have me. I was speaking to my friend earlier, Ivan Ivanovich, and he suggested it. Is he still here?”

The sergeant eyes him squiggle-eyed, but they cannot afford to look gift horses too closely in the mouth, or turn aside willing recruits. It takes a while, but he shouts for someone who shouts for someone else, and this finally produces the startled personage of Ivan Sakharov, who clearly thought it was for the last time when they parted several hours ago. Upon sight of Fedyor, he stops short, looking alarmed, angry, and wary all at once. “What are you – ?”

“Can we talk?” Fedyor is resolved to do this, he truly is, but he feels it best to get it over with before that wavers in any degree. Whether he wants it too little does not seem like the problem; on the contrary, he fears that he wants it too much, and if he stops to reflect on it or delude himself with any nonsensical notions of it being more than once, that can only hurt the cause. “Somewhere… private?”

Ivan hesitates, as if asking to commune out of sight of the others is tantamount to heresy (though it’s not as if these damn hypocrites didn’t plot in secret, away from their own countrymen, for months and months, Fedyor thinks angrily). Then he jerks his head. “Fine. Five minutes. This way.”

He leads Fedyor up a few narrow, creaking staircases, past closed doors that echo with snorting and snoring and coughing, the cacophony of his comrades, none of whom seem to be enjoying their glorious victory quite as much as they thought. Ivan, however, appears to be sufficiently high-ranking in the Red Guards that the room they finally arrive at, though not much larger than a closet, is at least private. It reminds Fedyor forcibly of Ivan’s room back in St. Petersburg, the one they slept in together, that first night after the Winter Palace. It sounds more intimate in his recollections than it actually was. Nothing happened, of course. But Ivan was kind to offer it, kind when he did not need to be, when a young tsarist soldier alone in the ferment of riot and revolution, such as Fedyor was, would not be likely to see the new red dawn. It is that which Fedyor keeps in mind as he shuts the door with assumed casualness, then turns around, meets Ivan’s eye in a significant fashion, and shrugs off his coat, cap, and muffler. Then, unmistakably, starts to unbutton his shirt.

He has almost gotten to the bottom by the time Ivan, who is staring at him as if he’s lost his marbles (it is unclear if this is an encouraging fashion or not) finally recovers his sense. He strides forward and covers Fedyor’s hands with his own large, callused rifleman’s fingers, sending a shock of attraction burning through Fedyor from head to toe, along with the death of any more illusion that he could continue to be casual about this. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Fedyor’s throat is as dry as a bone, but he forces himself to speak. “I said that I would do anything for my sister’s care, if you would help.”

He lingers suggestively on the word anything, just as he did before, in case there was any doubt (as if the undressing wasn’t enough) what he means here. Ivan looks like a cornered bear, but as his eyes catch Fedyor’s and flick across the lean, muscled torso thus revealed beneath the shirt, he swallows hard and has to glance away. The attraction trembles silently in the air between them, tense as a piano string, tuned to snapping. In the old days, that is, when people played pianos, and did not burn them for firewood, as Fedyor’s parents were preparing to do with theirs when he left home. It chokes raw and painful in his throat. He is attracted to Ivan – desperately attracted, in fact – and yet he still hates what the Bolsheviks have done, even if the Romanovs and the Provisional Government were no better. The deposed Tsar Nicholas II is under house arrest with his wife and five children, the four tsarevnas and the tsarevich, in Yekaterinburg. Little sick Alexei Romanov, whose hemophilia opened the door for Grigori Rasputin to control the queen, the royal household, the government of Russia, and so bring about the end of their house. He was like something from a fairytale monster, that Grisha. The rumors of his death, not quite two years ago in December 1916, is that it almost did not happen, he was so hard to kill. A demon. A beast.

“You cannot do this,” Ivan says, his voice too rough, his eyes still struggling to remain decorously averted. “It is not – it is not right.”

“Not right?” Fedyor flares. “So a little spot of armed treason and overthrowing the man who, however deficient he might be, was the heir of one of the oldest and greatest empires in the world? That part was entirely aboveboard, but this, when you want this – don’t lie to me, I’m well aware you do – to help my sister? That would be a sin?!”

Ivan backs up a step, glancing around shiftily. These walls are thin, and he clearly does not want his beloved brothers-in-arms to hear this. “Fedyor Mikhailovich – ”

“Have me.” Fedyor is done playing games. “I’m here, I’m yours for the taking. You can do whatever you want to me, as long as you give me the medicine at the end.”

For a long, spellbound moment, he thinks Ivan is on the brink of agreeing. Then once again, he shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I could not in good conscience consent to this. But I will fetch you the medicine. You do not have to give me anything in return.”

Fedyor gawks at him, shocked – and, it must be confessed, more than a little disappointed. “I thought it was fair trade,” he says. “Tit for tat.”

“It is…” Ivan shakes his head, eyes once more straying to Fedyor’s bare chest. “Button your shirt up,” he says, half-laughing, not angry, breathless and soft. “It is very distracting.”

“Good.” Fedyor takes another step. “I think you deserve it, you obnoxious bastard.”

“Be that as it may.” At least Ivan has the good sense not to dispute it. “I cannot do this,” he repeats, more gently. “You are a fine young man, Fedyor Mikhailovich. Perhaps in another life… but it would not be honorable to trade your virtue for this.”

“My virtue?” Fedyor has to laugh. “What makes you think I have that?”

Once again, Ivan wavers. But to give him (loathing) credit, he will not be swayed. “Button it,” he repeats. “I will arrange to have the money and medicine sent by your lodging by tomorrow, if you give me an address in the city.”

“I don’t have one.” Fedyor folds his arms. “Only here.”

Ivan looks even more startled. His lips part, he takes a step forward, and for a brief, wild, exquisite yearning of an instant, Fedyor thinks he is actually going to kiss him. They’re almost close enough – not quite, but almost – for it to happen. Then Ivan says, “Your family must be very proud of you.”

“I…” It catches in his throat. “I don’t know. I hope.”

“I would,” Ivan says. “I would be.”

And that, somehow, is all that seems to matter. Even as Fedyor spends a night in Ivan’s narrow camp cot of a bed, Ivan insisting on taking the hard floor out of an excess of gallantry, an echo of their first night in St. Petersburg. Ivan does as ordered, gives Fedyor some rubles and some medicine and a train ticket back home to Nizhny Novgorod. He personally escorts Fedyor to the train station to make sure he does not come to grief, then stands on the platform, staring after him like Vronsky watching Anna leave one more time. The train begins to huff and puff, spitting soot and embers, and Fedyor keeps his nose pressed to the glass, leaving a smudge, until long after, as it seems he is never destined to do anything but, Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov has vanished into the mist.

[chokemeanakin]

Anakin and a super giggly reader? Like laughing gas giggly? Or if youre wanting fun times request, him seeing reader jealous of the way girls look at him and Ani showing her he only had eyes for her?

I did both :) Hope you enjoy <3

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Anakin with a giggly reader headcanons (gn)

Normally you’re not this giggly. Don’t get me wrong, you love to laugh and have a good time, but something is off about you today. Anakin notices right away.

He walks into your apartment to bring you some lunch to find you poking at R2, who beeps in annoyance while you laugh at him. He rolls around you, poking you back with his metal utility arm which only sends you into more fits of laughter. You chase him around and try to hug him but he wheels away from you as fast as you can.

Anakin watches you for a moment, a smile on his lips before he realizes how weird you’re acting.

”Y/n?” you turn when he calls your name and your face lights up once again. You run towards him and take the food and when you see he’s brought you your favorite drink, you fall backward onto the couch and start sipping it, a content smile on your face. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

You finish about half of the drink before you decide to answer. “Obi-Wan gave me like 6 pills for my headache. I feel great!”

”He gave you how many pills?”

Anakin has to stop himself from turning around and hunting Obi-Wan down. Shouldn’t he of all people know how to dose someone correctly? And why didn’t he at least stay with you to supervise you if he knew he messed up?

”Stop pouting,” you giggled and poked his cheek. “It’s not really his fault. He was in a rush somewhere so he left R2 with me. R2 where’d you go?”

He beeped warily from the corner.

Anakin got you to tell him which pills exactly Obi-Wan gave you, and figured out that you were only supposed to get 2 pills at the most. Thank god they weren’t lethal, and side-effects of over dosing were… he guessed it… extreme euphoria.

He releases R2 from babysitting duties and takes over. He wrangles you to the couch where he hopes you can watch a show on the tv until the pills work its way through your system, but everything the screen flashes hurls you into fits of ab-aching laughter. 

You end up in tears, rolling around on the ground, and even Anakin can’t help but smile and shake his head at your ridiculous state. He turns the tv off when you plop onto him and refuse to get off, just playing with his hair and running your fingers over the planes of his face.

Your face gets serious, and then suddenly breaks out into a huge grin, over and over like a cycle. You laugh, but won’t tell him what’s so funny.

He knows you’re not in the right state of mind, but he thinks you’re beautiful when you smile and takes full advantage of the opportunity to stare at it shamelessly. 

Then the second side-effect of overdosing takes place, and you pass out cold right on top of him. 

Anakin Skywalker x Jealous/Insecure Reader (fem)

You had no issue with keeping your and Anakin’s relationship a secret. You weren’t going to stand in the way of his Jedi career, and honestly sneaking around had a bit of a thrill to it. It was only moments like this when you hated not being about to claim Anakin as yours in front of the entire world.

You were taking a break from your tasks of the day and sat on a bench in the garden, eating your lunch as you watched Anakin and Obi-Wan train before you. It was hot out, so the boys had taken their shirts off long ago-- not that you were complaining. 

You tried to observe Anakin as innocently as possible-- the way his muscles moved as he swung his lightsaber, how his hair stuck to his forehead, and beads of sweat dripped down his chest. He was literally glowing in the sunlight. Your heart swelled at the sight of him.

This beautiful man… and he was all yours.

It was then that you heard the giggling. You turned your head to see through the bushes. Senator Padme Amidala was leading a group of three of her friends-- handmaidens, from back when she was Queen-- through the gardens. They had stopped just outside the clearing you were in and were watching, pointing, and giggling at the two boys training. They hadn’t seemed to notice you yet.

Padme walked casually into the clearing, and your heart sunk as the three girls followed behind. They were all beautiful. Not just Padme, with her chocolate brown eyes, endless curls, and soft face. But the girls behind her were all tall, slim, and jaw-droppingly lovely. All four of them seemed to radiate like angels under the afternoon sun.

“Good evening, General Skywalker. Master Kenobi,” Padme greeted with a sweet smile. You knew Padme was an old flame of Anakin’s, but it never really bothered you. He always assured you it was just a little childhood crush, nothing more, and you trusted him. But something about her was making your blood boil now.

“Senator,” Anakin bowed his head in greeting, deactivating his saber. He bent to retrieve his shirt from the ground and wiped the sweat away from his face, giving the girls a full show of his glistening muscles in the process. “What brings you out here?”

“My friends from Naboo are visiting and I thought I’d show them around the gardens. Then I saw you two training and thought I might introduce them to two of the finest Jedi in the galaxy.”

The girls’ laughter tinkled like bells in the air, and Padme kept that same sugary-grin plastered on her face. 

Padme is a friend, you had to remind yourself. She means no harm.

She stepped aside and gestured to the girls, introducing them as Samé, Moté, and Rowé. They each bowed in turn, long curtains of hair almost brushing the ground, and returning to a standing position with equally gorgeous, shy smiles.

Anakin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow playfully. “I don’t know if we’re the two ‘finest’ Jedi in the galaxy, but your input is appreciated. It’s a pleasure to meet you three.”

This made the girls erupt in another fit of giggles. You wanted to gouge your eyes out.

“Well,” he looked from you to Obi-Wan, not really knowing what to do next. Yet, always the charmer, he offered, “Obi-Wan and I are still in the midst of training, if you would like to stay for a bit. You can sit on the bench with Y/n over there. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sharing.”

You wanted to crawl into a hole when he pointed you out. All eyes were on you, and you forced your scowl into a pained smile.

“Sure,” you forced a kind tone, scooching over to give them all a place to sit. They all glided over to you, their dresses floating behind them in the breeze.

As soon as Padme sat next to you, you were enveloped in the scent of daisies and vanilla. You wanted to cry. Why did they all get to be so beautiful and smell good?

“Hello Y/n,” Padme greeted with that same sweet smile. Her eyes looked golden in the sunlight. “Are you eating lunch?”

Suddenly, being surrounded by girls who were far taller and toned than you were made your stomach stop grumbling. You put the sandwich that you had been gripping too hard back into your bag, and kicked it under the bench.

“I was just finishing,” you told her.

She nodded, kind face still trained on you as the other girls’ attention was solely focused on the two dueling men before you.

“I’m sorry about barging in… I didn’t mean to intrude. My friends have never met a Jedi before, and when I told them about Anakin and Obi-Wan they were so excited to meet them.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” you folded your hands in your lap, nails digging into the skin of your palms. “You weren’t interrupting anything. And I’m sure Anakin and Obi-Wan would love to show off a little bit.”

“Of course they would. They won’t admit it, but they both have a bit of an ego... as I’m sure you already know,” Padme laughed lightly, her smile blinding you. Then she turned her attention to the Jedi. 

The five of you watched them train for a while. Samé, Moté, and Rowé oohed and ahhed at different times, gasping when the fighting got intense, and crossing and uncrossing their legs. You managed to quell the anger burning in your chest during this time, reminding yourself of how childish you were being. So what a couple of beautiful women were practically drooling over your boyfriend? It’s not like Anakin was even acknowledging them.

You couldn’t help but listen in on their conversations though. It started with a “He’s very cute, don’t you think?” and continued on to “Look at his muscles,” “Look how fit,” “That is one gorgeous man Padme, how have you never thought about courting him?”

“Ladies,” Padme gently quieted their giggling. “Jedi cannot form attachments. You can observe all you want, but acting on any attraction would be disrespectful.”

You could just about kiss Padme.

But the comments didn’t stop. They kept talking about him-- his eyes, his hair, his mouth. His power, physique, strength, everything. It went on and on.

“What about Obi-Wan?” you spoke up. The girls quieted, and surveyed, and the middle girl spoke. 

“He’s also very nice,” she admitted. “I’d take either of them, honestly, but my first choice would have to be the Skywalker guy.”

Your blood started to spike again. They’re not deli meats, you wanted to snap. You can’t own them.

Your jealousy was hypocritical. You knew this. That’s why you stayed rooted to the spot, not a peep coming out of your mouth. 

It was only when the girls began shouting requests-- “Anakin, twirl your lightsaber behind your back again! Anakin do a backflip! Anakin, float me that flower with the force!”-- that you had had enough. 

He had obliged to their requests. Of course he did. He was a gentleman, after all, and ignoring them would have been rude. But watching that rose-- your favorite flower-- fly through the air and gently tuck into Rowé’s silky smooth hair had you shooting to your feet, grabbing your bag from under the bench, and muttering an excuse to leave to Padme. You were out of the gardens before anyone could question you.

You stormed into your apartment, clenching and unclenching your fists as you paced.

It didn’t mean anything, it didn’t mean anything, it didn’t mean anything, you chanted in your head. 

You stopped your pacing when you caught your reflection in the mirror. You stared at yourself, unable to stop comparing yourself to the girls in the garden. 

It’s not that you weren’t pretty. You thought you were… at least before today. But you had never been the most confident in your looks to begin with, and seeing those girls interact with Anakin today felt like a punch in the gut.

He could do so much better.

You weren’t as thin as them, you didn’t wear flowy dresses, or float on elegant footsteps, or have miles and miles of silky smooth hair. You suddenly felt too big, too ugly, too disgusting. 

All the confidence you had worked up in order to be with Anakin… gone.

Suddenly, the door to your apartment opened. You quickly wiped away the tear that had escaped from your eye and turned away from the mirror, heading to the bookshelf to look busy.

“Y/n?” Anakin asked, peering around the corner for you. You kept your back turned, trying to stop the sudden onslaught of tears as you pretended to organize the bookshelf. “You’re upset. Why are you crying?”

“I’m not--” oh, what was the use? Of course he could tell you were crying. It was that damn force perception of his that made it virtually impossible for you to hide any kind of emotion from him. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he pressed, walking up behind you. Carefully, he put a hand on your shoulder. “You can talk to me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“If it’s hurting you, it’s not stupid.”

“I’m being immature. I just need to get over it.”

Anakin was quiet for a moment. “Is this about Padme’s friends?”

You squeezed your eyes closed, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Anakin spun you around to face him, but you brought your hands up to cover your face.

“I don’t know why you even like me,” you whispered thickly, tears still choking you up. “I’m disgusting compared to them.”

The words burned your tongue as they left your mouth. You had never been so open about your insecurities with Anakin, not like this at least. You had always put on a brave face before him, tried to exude confidence. He said he liked that about you. But now… he was really seeing you at your worst. And you were fully prepared for his feelings to change due to it.

“Y/n,” Anakin said. His voice was clipped, angry. “Y/n, look at me.”

He took your chin in his hand and forced your face up. You dropped your hands from your face, but kept your eyes cast downward shamefully. You could not bear to look him in his beautiful, angry face or you were pretty sure you would lose it altogether.

Instead of snapping at you, which you were preparing for, you felt the ghost of Anakin’s lips trace the skin of your jaw. He pressed a kiss beneath your ear, then the side of your neck, then the junction between your neck and shoulder. He made his way back up, leaving gentle, scalding kisses all over your face and neck. He kissed away a tear that had escaped, swiping another dry with his thumb. He kissed you until you felt okay enough to look him in the eyes.

“There’s my girl,” he grinned. Perfect. Gorgeous. Totally out of your league.

He held your face between both of his hands so you could not escape the intensity of his gaze. His eyes bore into you like lasers, stripping you completely bare. With your incredibly low self-esteem, he very well might as well have.

“Stop,” you muttered. You didn’t want to hear him try to build your confidence back up. There was no going back after the images of those beautiful girls plagued your mind from today.

Anakin pursed his lips and sighed. “Baby,” he smoothed his hand over your hair soothingly, eyes following his movements. “You don’t see what I see.”

“I don’t need to,” you argued. “Not when there’s people like them walking around.”

“But they’re not you,” Anakin’s voice was fierce. “There are so many beautiful people walking around in this galaxy, billions probably, and there’s nothing you can do to change that. But I am attracted to you, Y/n. I love you. And no one else.”

“Why, though?” you couldn’t help but ask. The memory of the flower tucking itself into Rowé’s hair came flashing back into your mind. Her glittering smile. The fluttering eyelashes. The rosy blush painting her cheeks.

Anakin released your face and grabbed your hand instead. “Come here,” he ordered, leading you to the mirror you had been looking at. He positioned you in front of him and stood behind you, arms wrapped around you and chin resting on your shoulder. A king draped over a peasant. 

“Let me tell you what I see,” his deep voice murmured in your ear. He started with your arms, running his hands lightly from your shoulders, dipping into the curves of your elbows, tracing a line down your forearm, and entwining his fingers with yours. “These are beautiful,” his eyes were focused on your reflection. 

He brought his hands back up, then began trailing them down your sides, holding your waist between his large hands and pressing his palms flat against your stomach. “This is beautiful.”

His hands made their way down to your hips, where you had to stop yourself from squirming. You were ticklish there. His hands fit perfectly over your curves, and he breathed, “This is beautiful.”

He got on his knees suddenly, shifting so that he was in front of you. Your face was on fire as his hands continued their journey down, over the tops of your thighs, to your knees, fitting over your calves and holding your ankles. “These are beautiful,” he looked up at you. 

He got up, and caught your chin in his hand again. “And this,” he whispered, breath fanning over your lips. He raked his eyes up and down your face, shamelessly admiring it. “This is the most beautiful of all.”

He captured your lips in his after saying this, feeling the heat pool in your cheeks with his hands. The kiss was soft, and short, and sweet. But it turned you into a pool of jelly under his ministrations, your knees going weak and eyes brimming with tears for a different reason than earlier. 

“There is no need to be self-conscious,” he spoke when he broke away. “There’s no need to compare yourself to other girls. You are mine, and I am yours, and nothing is ever going to change that.”

No words would ever be good enough to show your gratitude toward Anakin. Your solution-- press your lips to his again, and show him how good he made you feel. 

[magnetic-rose]

can we get a taste of what your 40 min long mccoy video would be like please speak your truth

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok so like when i started watching star trek for the first time, mccoy wasn’t my favorite character. it was spock. i thought mccoy was an amusing grumpy doctor man and i didn’t really give him more thought than that. i was also a really big spock/kirk shipper because i mean... have you watched TOS lmao. 

funnily enough, it was jj abram’s extremely EXTREMELY flawed 2009 movie that made me appreciate mccoy more. i didn’t really care that much for the portrayal of kirk OR spock in those movies. there’s a whole other essay i could write on how they took a genuine and caring friendship and turned it into a macho rivalry and i HATE it. but because i didn’t like spock or kirk’s portrayal as much in 09 trek, it kind of forced me to appreciate mccoy more. even if he wasn’t given a lot to work with, it’s obvious that karl urban put a lot of love into the character because he’s a fan of TOS.

i kind of like TOS and AOS mccoy pretty equally. i think they’re the closest of their counterparts in terms of personalities and ideals. i think that mostly comes down to karl urban’s respect for the source material. so the stuff i love about the character fits both versions of the character for the most part.

the thing about mccoy is that on the surface he is just a grumpy doctor man with poor bedside manners. but here’s the truth about mccoy: the man has the biggest heart of gold. he’s a meanie because he cares. he barks out orders and huffs and puffs and yells indignities because he can’t control just how much he cares about EVERYTHING and about everybody’s safety. 

bones is an extremely anxious character! he’s always worrying about someone or something. he’s always fretting when someone risks their lives. he wants to protect people so bad. jim and spock nearly give him heart attacks on the daily with their recklessness. but bones is kind of a hypocritical bastard too. he’ll chew jim and spock out for risking their lives, but at every opportunity mccoy has to sacrifice himself for others, he takes it. we see it in miri where mccoy injects himself with a potentially life-threatening vaccine because he doesn’t want to test it out on others first. we see it in mirror, mirror where mccoy risks almost getting left behind in a tyrannical alternative universe so he can save a spock he doesn’t even know. the biggest example of it is in the empath, where mccoy makes sure that aliens brutally torture him instead of spock or kirk. mccoy will always value others before himself. the self-sacrificing love of my life.

something i love about mccoy as well is how much he WASN’T a fighter. he didn’t have the brute strength of a vulcan or the fighting skills of kirk. he obviously passed starfleet’s basic fighting training, but that’s about it. mccoy is a healer through and through, even when he’s portrayed by hunky alpha male karl urban. i love this personality trait in both version’s of mccoy, but i love it a little bit more in 09 trek if only because i find it so endearing that someone who looks like karl urban is such a caretaker and non-combatant. 

he’s a pacifist but he’s not a push-over. in space seed, khan held a knife to his throat and he dealt with the situation with such calm confidence that he earned khan’s respect (the ONLY member of the enterprise to have khan’s respect btw!)

mccoy is the ultimate “kind, but not nice” character. he’ll try to get a rise out of spock and angrily debate him but will also jump to his defense in a moment’s notice if something unjust is happening to him (see: plato’s stepchildren.)

and to finish this off because it’s almost 1 am and i’m hella tired: my favorite thing about mccoy is that his greatest strength is also his greatest weakness: his emotions. mccoy is a deeply emotional character, that’s the entire point of him. he is the id to spock’s super-ego. they don’t butt heads because mccoy just wants to be a contrarian to the annoying vulcan. they butt heads because spock will always choose the logical solution and mccoy will always go for what’s morally right.

but the thing about that is that while spock represents extreme logic, mccoy represents extreme emotions. mccoy feels things SO deeply. while his emotions and his morals are what make him a great person, they’re also his downfall. mccoy will sometimes let his emotions control him to the point of pure irrationality. he’s SO concerned with doing what’s morally right he fails to see the bigger picture. when someone will always unflinchingly choose being good over being lawful, it’s going to create serious problems for them in certain scenarios. 

anyways i really could write a ten page essay about this because i just love mccoy so much. he’s one of my favorite fictional characters ever created. but it’s now 1:03 am and i have work tomorrow. thank you so much for sending this ask tho! i will always make time to gush about my baby daddy.