#marriage advocate number

[courtmarriagegov]

Court Marriage in Jaipur | Rajasthan @5500

Couples seeking court marriage must both be of sound mind. The entire procedure relies on their free consent.

Both parties must present proof of age. Furthermore, neither has been married before in any capacity.

Couples must give notice of their intention to marry according to the second schedule of the special marriage act to the marriage officer in whose jurisdiction they live.

Court Marriage Procedure in Rajasthan

Court marriage is an uncomplicated, legal way of getting married without going through religious rituals. You can apply by submitting documents such as birth certificates, address proof and photographs - once these have been verified you can apply for your marriage certificate which should arrive about 30 days later; there is also an objection period during which any disputes can be raised with authorities.

To complete the process, both parties will need to submit a signed application form with documents of both parties. You can download or obtain this form online from your district court; once filled out it will request details such as these:

Registering your marriage differs significantly from court marriage in terms of timing and paperwork requirements; marriage registration requires prior notice to the registrar whereas court weddings don't. Furthermore, registrations need to take place within an established timeframe.

India recognizes two types of marriages: registered and court. Registered marriages fall under either the Hindu Marriage Act or Special Marriage Act and allow couples from any faith to marry legally.

However, before applying for marriage registration, both bride and groom should meet age criteria; males must be 21 and females 18 years old. Furthermore, neither should be in any prohibited relationship; otherwise you will need to provide proof such as divorce decree or death certificate as proof. Furthermore, active relationships should not exist at the time of filing; any such application will be rejected immediately.

Call Court Marriage Lawyer Advocate Kaushal +91 8287772088

Court Marriage Fees

If you are planning to marry, it is essential that you follow the proper procedures and pay all required fees. This will ensure your marriage is valid, which may help when applying for legal processes like home loans together. Furthermore, having a marriage certificate available should any issues arise between yourself and your partner in the future.

Cost of court marriage varies by state and depends on various factors, including type and length of time since wedding. Therefore, before beginning this process it would be wise to consult a lawyer so you are familiar with all state specific rules and regulations.

Before performing your marriage ceremony, both parties should make sure they are not involved in an active relationship; some relationships are prohibited by various Indian laws and religions. Furthermore, if either partner has died since your initial proposal date, an appropriate death certificate must be submitted as evidence.

Muslim marriage requires both male and female partners to perform their Nikah with assistance from a Kazi. Once this ceremony has taken place, registration of their marriage in court takes place, with certificates arriving shortly afterwards.

First step of registering a court marriage involves notifying the marriage officer of your intent to marry, which you can do by submitting an application form at the registrar's office. Next, collect all required documents such as Mangal Sutras, Dakshinas and sweets before signing a Declaration Form in front of three witnesses present at your ceremony.

Arya Samaj Marriage

Arya Samaj marriages are Hindu ceremonies performed according to Vedic traditions. This type of wedding ceremony emphasizes equality between partners while upholding ethics and spirituality - making it an excellent option for those looking for an uncomplicated ceremony without extravagances; its rituals emphasize simplicity while still upholding essential values.

Marriage ceremonies traditionally take place under a mandap, which is an elaborately decorated canopy set up around a sacred fire that serves as witness. Groom and bride exchange garlands as a sign of mutual appreciation before groom puts vermillion on bride's forehead and she wears mangalsutra around neck before feeding each other sweets before concluding the ceremony with Surya Darshan or sun greeting ceremony.

Two witnesses must also attend the ceremony, with at least one certified copy of their divorce decree for those that are divorced, or death certificates of deceased spouses for widowers.

Once an Arya Samaj marriage has taken place, it must be registered in a district court in order for it to become legally binding in India. Government agencies across India recognize Arya Samaj marriage certificates for official purposes such as applying for passports and visas as well as property registration and inheritance matters.

The Arya Samaj is an organization established by Swami Dayananda Saraswati to encourage inter-caste and inter-religious marriages between Hindus, Christians, Jains, and Sikhs. It does not restrict itself solely to Hindu marriages however.

Benefits

Court marriage provides couples of different religions, castes and nationalities an alternative means of solemnizing their union legally and inexpensively. It requires approval by both parents, marriage registrar and witnesses before proceeding with legal proceedings - it also gives couples access to government benefits such as pension, maternity pay and financial relief schemes that they would otherwise miss out on with traditional weddings.

Court marriages can often be completed quickly and smoothly in just hours, providing an alternative for couples having trouble with getting parental approval for their relationship. Furthermore, this method eliminates the need for guests and elaborate rituals and can create an intimate, private process suited for couples looking for peace and privacy during their ceremony.

Court weddings provide greater flexibility in terms of scheduling and location than regular weddings, which often require months-in-advance reservations. This makes court marriages ideal for couples with hectic work schedules as well as couples wanting a convenient location and time, like those avoiding traveling long distances for their big day.

Court marriage is legal in India and provides couples with numerous advantages over traditional weddings. Social security benefits, including maternity and widowhood allowances as well as medical insurance coverage may be available; tax exemptions under Section 80C of the Income Tax Act may also apply (with some restrictions applying). To make the most out of a court marriage, be sure to understand its rules and regulations, consult with an experienced lawyer prior to filing, as well as being aware of its objection period, which usually lasts 30 days after an application for marriage has been filed.

FAQS

Marriage is an important milestone in life, so it's essential that couples follow all necessary steps to ensure it's legal. Doing this will help avoid future issues as well as making passport or visa applications easier in the future if necessary.

Step one of registering a marriage involves giving notice to the Marriage Officer at your district court at least 30 days before your wedding. Following this, the ceremony itself is solemnized and issued a marriage certificate - although this process can be time-consuming, its benefits far outweigh its drawbacks.

Registering a marriage in Rajasthan requires meeting various requirements, including adult bride and groom who have valid reasons for marrying each other as well as not currently married or previously having had an ex-spouse who is either dead or divorced. Furthermore, both parties must provide proof of age and address.

Both partners must sign the Marriage Application form with their full names, addresses, and signatures and submit this packet of documents to the Marriage Registrar of their district court.

The Marriage Registrar will then review all information and documents submitted and assign a date and time for registration of your marriage. Both partners must attend as witnesses during registration; then he or she will present each couple with a marriage certificate from his or her office.

[lady-raziel]

I’m really getting to the point where I can’t even stand to have civil discussions with right-wing conservative people anymore because it’s just like there’s no end to the nonsense. I’m really very close to just making up fake absurd extreme positions just for the sake of it. “Well I believe marriage should be between a MAN and a WOMAN-“ well I believe marriage should be illegal. “Transgender people—“ I think all people should be required to transition at some point during their lives, no exceptions. “But the ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS—“ I think native born people should have to leave. “There need to be more CHILDREN BORN because CHILDREN ARE INNOCENT AND FREE OF SIN—“ I disagree, I think we should start assigning identities of recently deceased people to newborns, the baby gets their social security number and all assets and gets to pick up where the dead person left off, including all criminal convictions. “America is a CHRISTIAN country” well I’m a prophet and god told me you’re on the naughty list and he decided to go hang out with aliens because they’re more fun. “A WOMAN’S ROLE—“ I’m advocating for abolishing housing so housewives won’t exist anymore.

I really think they’re underestimating how far I’ll go to say things only slightly more batshit than the malicious things they’re suggesting with a straight face.

[mariacallous]

Some prominent conservative lawmakers and commentators are advocating for ending no-fault divorce, laws that exist in all 50 US states and allow a person to end a marriage without having to prove a spouse did something wrong, like commit adultery or domestic violence.

The socially conservative, and often religious, rightwing opponents of such divorce laws are arguing that the practice deprives people – mostly men – of due process and hurt families, and by extension, society. Republican lawmakers in Louisiana, Oklahoma, Nebraska and Texas have discussed eliminating or increasing restrictions on no-fault marriage laws.

Defenders of the laws, which states started passing a half-century ago, see legislation and arguments to repeal them as the latest effort to restrict women’s rights – following the overturning of Roe v Wade and passage of abortion bans around the country – and say that without such protections, the country would return to an earlier era when women were often trapped in abusive marriages.

“No-fault divorce is critical to the ability, particularly the ability of women, to be able to exercise autonomy in their own relationships, in their own lives,” said Denise Lieberman, an adjunct professor at the Washington University School of Law in St Louis, who has a specialty in policies concerning gender, sexuality and sexual violence.

Before 1969, when then California Republican governor Ronald Reagan, who had been divorced, approved the country’s first no-fault divorce law, women, who are more likely to experience violence from an intimate partner, were often forced to stay in marriages. If they could not prove that their husband had been abusive or persuade him to grant a divorce, they would not be able to take any assets from the marriage or remarry, according to a study in the Quarterly Journal of Economics.

States around America gradually followed suit and passed similar laws allowing unilateral divorce until 2010, when New York became the last state to approve the practice.

Between 1976 and 1985, states that passed the laws saw their domestic violence rates against men and women fall by about 30%; the number of women murdered by an intimate partner declined by 10%; and female suicide rates declined by 8 to 16%.

Without such laws, “it’s hard to prove anything in court relating to a family because you don’t have any witnesses”, said Kimberly Wehle, professor at the University of Baltimore School of Law. “It’s very difficult to get evidence to show abuse of children. How do you do it? Do you put your kids on the stand?”

Conservative commentators such as Matt Walsh, Steven Crowder and lawmakers such as the Republican senator JD Vance of Ohio have argued that the laws are unfair to men and hurt society because they lead to more divorces.

The divorce rate in the United States increased significantly from 1960, when it was 9.2 per 1,000 married women, to 22.6 in 1980. But by 2022, the rate had fallen to 14.5.

On the increase in divorces, Vance said in 2021: “One of the great tricks that I think the sexual revolution pulled on the American populace” is the idea that “these marriages were fundamentally, you know, they were maybe even violent, but certainly they were unhappy, and so getting rid of them and making it easier for people to shift spouses like they change their underwear, that’s going to make people happier in the long term”.

Beverly Willett, a writer and attorney, argues that unilateral no-fault divorce is also unconstitutional because it violates a person’s 14th amendment right to due process.

The defendant “has absolutely no recourse to say, ‘Wait a minute. I don’t want to be divorced, and I don’t think that there are grounds for divorce. I would like to be heard. I would like to call witnesses,’” said Willett, who experienced a divorce she didn’t want because she thought her marriage could be saved. “I believed in my vows” and “didn’t want to give up”.

But Willett’s argument relies on the idea that “women are either property or that somehow men’s liberty is restrained by not allowing them to stay in a marriage with someone who does not want to be married”, said Wehle, who also wrote about it in the Atlantic. “I disagree with the idea that women are somehow property interests of their husbands. That is an arcane relic of law that has no place in modern society.”

Willett responded to Wehle’s critique by writing that “nobody has suggested a return to antiquated laws of the 18th and 19th century. Considerable reform that protects women and ensures their equality in family court has been enacted since then.”

On the argument that no-fault divorce reduces domestic violence, Willett points to data that most domestic violence occurs between unmarried couples and says regardless, with “any contract, any lawsuit, you still have to follow the constitution”.

But without such laws, victims of domestic violence would then have to navigate a court system that can be time-consuming, “very adversarial and very costly” because the plaintiff often must then pay for child care and transportation, said Marium Durrani, vice-president of policy for the National Domestic Violence Hotline.

“Any sort of additional barrier that we add to the ease of legal proceeding is, frankly, a nightmare and an enormous burden for survivors,” said Durrani. “I’m not trying to be an alarmist, but it can increase death [if] a survivor of domestic violence has to prove that they are being abused in a divorce proceeding.”

Still, Lieberman does not think Republicans will succeed in their efforts to make it more difficult for people to get divorced.

“I do believe that that train has left the station. I mean, we have had no-fault divorce now for 50 years,” Lieberman said. But “I didn’t think the supreme court would overturn Roe v Wade, which we had for 50 years, so I suppose we will see.”

[autistic-ben-tennyson]

“Anakin Didn’t Care About The Clones”

As a way of pushing back against the idea that Anakin was the only Jedi to treat the clones well, many Jedi apologists have argued that Anakin didn’t care about the clones or that his strategies got several killed, at all. Some even act like Anakin was abusive to Rex by cherry picking certain moments such as asking Rex to keep his marriage secret, running to Padme instead of Rex or Ahsoka after the Blue Shadow Crisis or the time he and Ahsoka threw Rex off that wall on Geonosis. Do people not understand the difference between comedic slapstick and abuse?

Was Anakin’s treatment of the clones perfect? No, all Jedi-clone relationships suffered from power imbalance and the clones being unable to leave as Cut and Slick pointed out and he wasn’t the only Jedi to treat the clones as individuals. What he did as Vader when he used them to storm the temple was despicable and as a former slave, he should have advocated more for their rights. Yet Anakin, before falling, valued the clones as individuals and encouraged free thinking in his men. In legends he struck up an odd friendship with Alpha 17 and gave him his nickname as well as encouraging him to do so for the gen 2 clone commanders he was training who would become Cody, Appo, Oddball, Thire, Bly, Gree, Neyo and Bacara. As Vader, he still held a fondness for Commander Appo and was somewhat dismayed by his death.

As for canon, his friendship with Rex was one of the closest of Jedi-clone bonds. Rex trusted him with his life as he reminisces in Rebels and Anakin was willing to share his secret about his marriage with Padme. Asking your friend to keep secrets, unless actively harmful, is not abuse. Nor is asking your friend who has the equipment to do so to assist in training your student like in TOTJ. It wasn’t just Rex that he cared for though. He encouraged Dogma to take breaks and be less of a stickler as seen in the clip below which also shows him complimenting Rex’s ingenuity and working with him and Fives as a team to evacuate the battalion after being ambushed by Umbarans.

Continuing on, he showed a great degree of concern for Tup when his inhibitor chip malfunctioned and drove him insane, fighting hard to rescue him. He also was willing to help Rex rescue Echo and work with Clone Force 99. Anakin was one of the few, besides Fives, who actually looked saddened by Echo’s apparent death while everyone else was focused on the shuttle. He later jokes with Echo after rescuing him and despite their squabbles earlier, lets Wrecker have fun blowing up Admiral Trench’s ship.

While not as close as Rex, he seemed to have a genuine bond with Fives as well. Sharing the story of his heroics as a child that inspired Fives’ plan of dissent against Krell and Fives admitted that while reckless, Anakin was always leading his men in the front rather than make them do all the work. Fives was comfortable enough to make dick jokes with him as well as share the information he learned about the inhibitor chips. Anakin complimented his quick thinking and while Fives was always vocal about being seen as a person over a number, one thing they shared in common, it’s implied Anakin is the reason he’s very independent and willing to go against orders for what he sees as right. While Anakin may have gotten defensive when Fives accused Palpatine of being behind the chips, he was still horrified by his death. TCW may be an episodic show but one could interpret that Anakin’s behavior in the Clovis arc was the result of having just lost two people close to him, Fives and Ahsoka, and Padme working with someone who endangered her before had him on an edge, not wanting that to happen again.

To say Anakin didn’t care for his men based off a few cherry-picked scenes is dishonest and is argued by people who think he was just bad even before falling. Was he perfect or the only one who treated them as individuals? No but he was not just an abusive, uncaring ass. The first scene in ROTS showed him wanting to go back and help the pilot squad. He gave his men like Fives or Broadside difficult tasks not because he didn’t care but because he knew they were capable. I wonder if, from his twisted point of view, Vader saw a bit of Rex and Fives in Veers and Piett due to their efficiency and ingenuity as military officers. Vader was complicit in the enslavement of the clones during Order 66 and needed to answer for it if he lived but to say his relationships with his men prior to that were abusive when there’s no evidence of that in the movies or TCW is lying just to make him seem like an irredeemable monster.

[worstqueerbaittournament]

Submission message: howdy, would like to submit keith and lance from voltron (lmao)

Submission message: BBC Sherlock and Moriarty / BBC Sherlock and John Watson

Additional propaganda: Now Keith and Lance on the other hand was a whole fucking mess that they then shoehorned in an hetero romance to try and "fix it" but by lord it was bad, everything about voltron is so fucking bad

Anyway this is my Klance propaganda : They were actually bait

Klance's queer baiting by the team was the worst!! We had to deal with NETFLIX ALSO GETTING IN ON THE QUEER BAITING!! If you searched up Kkance during the times for season 6-8, the SHOW WOULD POP UP. The directors would make jokes about it being canon, even Lance's VA got in the joke!

Their queer baiting was the worst for anyone who was even looking for an ounce of queer rep in that show. The only queer rep we got was a man who died after not even 5 minutes on screen, and shoehorned in the credit scene of a gay wedding of a character that was neither Keith nor Lance.

I do not know Agatha and Sophie, so I can't argue that klance was bigger bait or not, I just know voltron was mean lmao. the creators said stuff like "lance will be someone's first choice!" (meaning NOT ending up in a relationship with allura bc she very much chose another guy over him) and heavily implying he would be Keith's 1st choice (or a guy in general bc of point number 2). point number 2: they also released official art showing how super cool and diverse the main cast was! race! gender! LGBT - they had shiro (who was......canon gay but that's a whole other can of worms) and lance hold the sign with LGBT on it and then did absolutely nothing with that w lance at all (he hit on allura, so obvi he's not gay, but at least bi or smt) (UNLESS you count the scenes where he's flirty with keith). I just remember going into the last few seasons being like "klance probably won't be happen be honest with yourself there's like no queer kids shows!! but damn like it so could tho!!! because of how much it's been teased both in the show and by showrunners like I can't have no hope with the way the producers talk about it!" lmao I should have had no hope, but i genuinkey believed there was a possibility it could happen. and actually I discovered after the fact that i think one of the writers for the show who was the main advocate for klance (they had a lot of diff writers for eps, which led to lots of character butchering but ANYWAY) left not terribly long into the show I believe bc he didn't like the direction it was moving in and didn't want to be tied to the show anymore. so it's not like fans just made klance up either - it was written into earlier episodes with the hope and plan to continue developing later, and then just nothing ever happened with it besides INTENSE teasing it to keep queer fans around. esp after shiro's relationship was literally only a flashback and then his fiance thing or whatever got blown up before we even got to watch him interact w shiro as we knew him in present time in s7, so I think they kept being like hmmm klance and the stuff about lance being a first choice before s8 to keep ppl around. also esp bc klancers made up such a big portion of the fan base. then they made a horrible szn and ended it w a flashforward to shiro marrying some random background character who maybe had 1 line? I just remember hitting the flashforward and being like uhhhh who is this dude??? but they did that to hit those diversity points wow first gay marriage in a cartoon or smt idk it doesn't count to me really. so anyway voltron in general is queerbait lol but klance is because it started out as a legit possibility and then they said sike! but only maybe sike bc u guys are mad at us burying our guys in s7 so maybe klance could still happen haha okay now we're serious no it's not happening. anyway I think klance is p bad queerbait and a vote for them is a valid vote, not just u liking the ship.

#im sorry but johnlock is a household name in ther queerbait trenches

I don't know much about blaze runner, but this website made me endure Johnlock FOR YEARS, that ship makes me so fucking angry, and it's so much bait, the whole fucking show is just 4 kinds of bait in a trenchcoat trying to pass as something good, and Tumblr(and the rest of the goddamn world) ate it up like a five course meal. So anyway that's why I'm voting Johnlock

[genderkoolaid]

In the last two decades, there has been a growing body of literature on trans health in India. However, most research is limited to HIV/AIDS and primarily focuses on trans women. Studies on trans men or transmasculine identities and their healthcare needs and experiences in India have received little scholarly attention. Even globally, the literature on trans men’s health is relatively scant, with existing studies conducted mainly in Western countries. There exists a dearth of government data and statistics on trans men in India. The only attempt to enumerate the transgender population was made by the national census, which categorised them as ‘other.’ The census estimated 4,87,803 transgender people in India. However, several transgender activists have argued that this number is a considerable miscalculation and an inaccurate representation of the entire transgender community in India. Moreover, the lack of official data on trans men also risks under-allocating funds for much-needed welfare programmes. Moreover, trans men experience direct and indirect discrimination in healthcare settings. Such experiences include being asked invasive or inappropriate questions about their bodies, invalidating their gender identity via misgendering, deadnaming, and being denied healthcare or receiving low-quality care. Sometimes, it also includes physical mishandling and verbal harassment by the hospital staff and co-patients or not being allowed to enter certain hospital wards or spaces. [...] For many trans men, the family becomes the first space for mental and physical violence and outright rejection of their identity, with instances of forced heterosexual marriages or corrective rape. Vinay (name changed), a 30-year-old trans man from Punjab, says, “Family says ‘you’re ruining our reputation, get married, have one-two kids and then everything will be fine.’ They even use rape as a measure saying ‘you don’t know who you are, and when it happens, then you’ll know [your true sexual orientation].’”  Many have to deal with uninformed healthcare providers unwilling to treat them because of their gender identity. Lack of knowledge amongst medical professionals and poor social understanding of trans men means that trans men often have to self-advocate and explain their health-related issues and gender identity to medical practitioners who constantly challenge or dismiss their identity. This self-advocacy and mental effort to explain or justify one’s gender identity and expression often leads to emotional exhaustion. Soham (name changed), a 24-year- old trans man from New Delhi, recounts his experience of going to a hospital,  “The doctor came and shouted my dead name. There were a lot of people in the emergency room and I remember feeling numb for a second…He shouted, ‘Is this you? Yehi naam hai aapka?’ (‘Is this you? Is this your name?’)…Then he literally pointed at my chest and said your chest is so flat, do you have your periods? I was numb and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t get my medicine, I didn’t tell him my problem, I just went home and I locked myself in my room for a week.” 

— I Didn’t Get My Medicine, And I Locked Myself In My Room For A Week (Trans Men Are Invisible in India's Healthcare) by Arushi Raj and Fatima Juned

[chiriwritesstuff]

The New Girl in Tinseltown - Chapter 2 - Devil's Advocate

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist │ Next Chapter

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: A look into Dieter's point of view at the night of our fated trip to Vegas. How does America's favorite Bad Boy™ end up married to America's New Sweetheart™?

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Dry Humping, A hell of a lot of dirty banter, is that yearning?, mentions of devious deeds by sleazy people in show business, our loverboy makes a 'Pride and Prejudice reference, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 8K (whoops!)

A/N: I know, I know, I KNOW. I promised the release of this chapter weeks ago, but I got struck by the not-covid-but-felt-like-covid virus and managed to get myself into the biggest writing slump. I really do apologize for that, and I want to give a big thank you to everyone who stuck around and showed and shared love and support for the first chapter and this series! I can confidently say that the writing slump has finally passed, and we can finally get this crazy show on the road...

An (almost) year before that night in Vegas.

“Dieter, I'm expecting you to be on your best behavior tonight."

Dieter scowls at his publicist while his groomer diligently applies yet another round of pomade in an attempt to tame his unruly curls. "Define best behavior."

"They're about to launch a new girl into the circuit, some unknown that the studio thinks will become the next girl next door," his publicist responds, tapping away at his MacBook. "She's a genuinely sweet thing, all doe-eyed and untouched by the suits. Apparently, she's so sweet that Feldman-"

“Let me guess,” Dieter deadpans, "Feldman wants to fuck her," he rolls his eyes at that, slightly curious at the prospect of fresh blood. "Why am I not surprised?"

"That's not the best part," his publicist quips, his eyes locking with Dieter's over the rim of his laptop. "The studio wants to protect their asset, so much so that they hired-"

"No fucking way, they hired the Shark for this broad? What? Does she have beer-flavored nipples or something?" Dieter exclaims, his curiosity piqued. "Is she really that sweet?"

His publicist's mouth quirks into a small smirk. "The sweetest, most fucking forbidden fruit, my friend. So sweet that the Shark doesn't want you within ten feet of his client."

"Oh yeah?" Dieter replies, his eyes raised.

"Hell yeah. He tried to corner me earlier, warning me to keep my client's - and I quote - Dirty fucking paws off of his Doll-"

"Doll, huh? I bet I could tap that," Dieter challenges, his chest puffed out.

Dieter's publicist chuckles to himself, shaking his head. "Dieter, I know you believe you're God's gift to the masses, but trust me, this Doll? She's a bit out of your league."

Dieter leans back in his chair, a sly grin forming on his face. "Out of my league, huh? That just makes it more interesting. The thrill of the chase, my friend."

His publicist raises an eyebrow, skeptical. "Dieter, I've seen you chase plenty, but this Doll is different. She's not like the others. There's an innocence about her that even your charm might struggle to crack."

Dieter smirks, undeterred. "Well, we'll see about that. The forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest, doesn't it?"

The publicist lets out a resigned sigh. "Just remember, Dieter, not every fruit is meant to be plucked."

"What is this event even for?" Dieter counters, appraising himself as his stylist smooths the fabric of his suit, a deep emerald green number with a crisp obsidian button-down. He pouts at the mirror, glancing at his publicist and his agent behind him. "It's not the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards again, is it?"

"Why? So you could be caught doing blow off a toilet bowl seat like last year? I'm still doing damage control for that, you know," his agent deadpans. "You're in luck; it's the MTV Movie Awards-"

"... and this is Doll's debut, huh? Is she up for an award or something?"

"Several, actually. Surprisingly, her last film gained quite the following-"

"... let me guess, it's some rom-com," Dieter interjects, a hint of disinterest in his tone. "What are the categories?"

"Three, to be exact." His agent smirks into his cognac. "Best Female Lead, Female Breakout Star, and Best Kiss-"

"Best Kiss? Seriously?" Dieter retorts incredulously, his eyes widening. "What's the name of her movie? I might need to see it for myself-"

"Dieter, level with me. Are you gonna keep your dirty fucking paws off of the Shark's asset?" his publicist sighs, giving him a stern look. "As much as I want to shove my foot up his fucking ass, I don't have the energy to have him breathing down my back the entire fucking night-" he looks off into Dieter's direction, who is currently on your Wikipedia page. He frowns. "Dieter, do you hear me?"

"What?" Dieter snaps, slamming his phone onto his seat.

"Can you manage to be on your best behavior tonight? Stay clear of-"

"No. I mean, sure, fine, whatever-" Dieter interrupts, his tone dismissive.

"Dieter-"

"I heard you! I promise to stay away from her, but the real question is, are you able to keep her away from me?" He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

The (not-so meet cute) at the MTV Movie Awards.

"Dieter!" you shout, hastily making your way toward him, clearly a few drinks in. "Surprised to see you here!" you shout excitedly, a little wobble in your step as you approach him. 

You adorn a sleek silver gown, your hair elegantly swept to one side, and your radiant face contrasting vividly with the venue's intense lights. Dieter finds himself momentarily breathless as he gazes at you, captivated by your ethereal presence, akin to an angel descending into the depths of hell. "Fuck me," he murmurs under his breath as you draw near, the collar around his neck suddenly feeling constrictive as he nervously swallows. "What the hell? I never get nervous around women," he mutters to himself, his eyes tracing the entirety of your figure. His pants grow notably tighter, his attention fixated on the hypnotic sway of your hips.

He greets you with a nervous smile as you come face to face, tenderly planting a kiss on your cheek. His eyes close momentarily as he savors your delicate scent, a sensation that electrifies his chest and courses through his veins, prompting his hands to instinctively caress the back of your head as he subtly tries to capture another whiff. A subtle sense of pride swells within him as he notices the blush unexpectedly blooming across your skin, its warmth cascading down your cleavage.

Forbidden fucking fruit indeed. 

"Doll," he attempts to say smoothly, a hint of nervousness lacing his voice. "I've heard so much about you. Congrats on your wins tonight; they're truly well-deserved!"

"Really?" you suddenly squeal, and Dieter feels like he could get lost in your energy. It's pure, sweet, and so inherently innocent—the childlike wonder of being thrust into the limelight, untarnished by the sleazy underbelly of Hollywood. He can't help but internally frown, foreseeing the inevitable vultures in suits trying to get a piece of you. Their insatiable hunger for new, sweet flesh is something he knows all too well.

"Well, yeah, Doll, you killed it, as expected. Winning tonight and sweeping all your nominations was a given," he muses, casually leaning against his chair. As he leans towards you, a subconscious desire prompts him to take another whiff of your perfume, desperately trying to commit its essence to memory amid the haze of his coke-induced high. He can't resist burying his nose in your hair, eyes closing as he takes you in once more. 

"Dieter-" you question his sudden boldness, a nervous chuckle escaping you. 

"I'm sorry, baby-" he moans into your neck, his hands traveling down the length of your back. "You must tell me what the name of your perfume is, its divine-"

"Oh," you laugh as Dieter pulls you into him tighter, groaning as his hands travel dangerously close down your hips. "It's 'Missing Person' by-"

"Doll," a voice emerges from behind the two of you, accompanied by a stern clearing of someone's throat. Dieter's expression darkens as he recognizes the owner of the voice, but not before planting one final teasing kiss against your throat. With a smirk playing on his lips, he straightens up and turns to confront the perpetually annoyed yet annoyingly handsome face of the man Hollywood dubs 'The Shark'- also known as the most ruthless of publicists in all of Tinseltown, protecting his clients with an iron fist so strong no one ever thinks of crossing him.

Unless they wanted a cease and desist letter shoved so far up their assholes... without any fucking lube.   

Dieter gets it, though. If he were in his shoes and he had a client like you? All sweet and pure with the face of an angel but a body curated by the Devil himself?

Well, he would fuck your brains out and make you forget your name first, but that's beside the point. The point is, he gets it, he really fucking does.  

"Well well well," Dieter croons as he holds his hand up towards your publicist. "It's been a long time, Shark. Tell me, did you have to call ahead to make sure that some poor bloke's mangled testicles made it onto your plate for tonight, or did you rip someone's balls off fresh on-site?" he snarks with the raise of his eyebrow, shaking his head as your publicist stares at his outstretched hand in greeting. Dieter scoffs as he retreats his hand, placing it on his hip.  

"Bravo," Your publicist grits through clenched teeth as he tries to appear as unbothered as possible. "Aren't you a little old to be here tonight? The rumors aren't true, you know. Fucking girls close to half your age doesn't keep you young, but I suppose it makes sense, considering a woman your age would know better-"

"Shark, I won't tolerate you talking like that in the presence of an actual earth-bound angel. Just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know right from wrong-" Dieter retorts, flashing you a smoldering smile. "... you know how to handle yourself, don't you, Doll? You don't need some uptight prick telling you what you can and cannot do, right?" he winks, a slight puff to his chest.

You visibly shiver at his cheeky insinuation, nodding. "Right," you breathe, taking a hasty gulp of your champagne. "I'm 29 years old, I don't need you defending my 'honor' like I'm some virginal maiden-"

"Well, when my client has far too many drinks in her and doesn't understand the kind of man she's in the presence of-"

"The Devil, right?" Dieter exclaims, pointing to himself. "A no-good washed-up actor who fucks anything with two legs while high off my rocker, who just so happens to be good at what I do with the Oscar in my shitter to prove it? Don't you think she knows all of this? My bare ass isn't on the front page of TMZ weekly because I'm a nobody, baby."

"Oh my god, Dieter," you gush, clapping your hands together. "I loved you in-"

"Doll," your publicist interrupts, a firm hand on your shoulder. "You have that meeting with Favreau at the Beverley Hills in 30 minutes. As much as we would love to stay and chat... we have our jobs to get to, right Doll?" your publicist says to you sweetly, his hand grazing your arm. He clears his throat, nodding at Dieter. "Bravo, it was stimulating, as always," he deadpans with a hint of finality, pulling on your elbow like a lost puppy on a leash. Dieter swallows as he witnesses your light dimming from your face, a small frown on your face as you try to remain cordial, a fake smile etched on your face.  

"It was nice meeting you, Dieter," you almost whisper, pulling him into one last hug. "... maybe we'll just run into each other again soon?" You quickly whisper in his ear, and the thought of the two of you meeting up in secret thrills him to no end. His dick certainly twitches at the prospect. 

Dieter takes one last whiff of your scent, his eyes closing as he wills the time to stand still, not wanting to lose the warmth radiating from your aura. He presses one last kiss on your cheek, his fingers caressing the spot as he gives you a genuine smile.  

"... it wouldn't be soon enough, baby."

He gives The Shark one last salute, flipping him off once his back is toward him. “Fucking asshole cockblock,” he mutters to himself, patting his suit pocket for his little baggie of E. He pinches the baggie between his fingers, looking at its contents in silent contemplation.  I guess if I can't get the girl, at least I can get the high, right?

The morning after.

Dieter is face down on his sofa in his boxers and his robe, groaning from the after-effects of his debauchery just a few hours before. As if his skull is splitting into two, he winces as he turns himself onto his back, staring aimlessly into his ceiling as his iPhone suddenly starts to go off from under him.

Sighing, he blindly reaches for his phone, one eye open as he squints into the tiny, shattered screen.

TMZ NEWS FLASH! Up-and-coming Actress who swept MTV awards show last night being groped by Resident Playboy Dieter Bravo? Her publicist sweeps in to save our New "It" Girl in Tinseltown from the grasp of the Devil himself-

Dieter scoffs as he swipes the notification away, his eyes scanning the next headline.

AP NEWS ALERT: Dieter Bravo seen kissing Rising Actress at MTV Movie Awards last night, is a new romance brewing between the Fresh-Faced Actress and Playboy Lothario Dieter Bravo?

"Dieter," his publicist groans as he walks into the room, picking up a crumpled pair of boxer briefs off the sofa, and throws himself on it, pinching the space between his eyebrows as he shakes his head. "What the hell did I tell you? Stay away from The Shark's client, don't grope her in front of him! Can't you just listen to me for once?"

"It was innocent! I kept my hands at a respectable distance from her ass," Dieter retorts, throwing his phone across the room. "I didn't even make a move—"

"That's not the point, Dieter!" his publicist spits back, pulling out his phone. "Do you realize how much this guy despises you? I'm good at my job, but The Shark? I can't go against a god—"

"You're making him out to be some untouchable—"

"...because he is untouchable, Dieter! Do you even know he's buddies with Feldman? After learning about your stunt last night, he's considering pulling you from the project."

"Please," Dieter scoffs, rolling his eyes. "They need me more than I need them! I'm practically doing them a favor, signing on to this fucking movie. They're not going to pull Dieter Bravo from a sinking ship! It's just scare tactics!"

"Yeah, well, you know what they say. The pussy is stronger than god, right?" his publicist replies, scrolling through his phone. "Feldman didn't appreciate your hands on his girl, and now he's out for blood. I warned you about this, D. Is some girl worth losing a multi-million dollar contract? Do you want to go back to doing 'surprise guest star' roles on cable TV? I heard they're thinking of rebooting 'Suits', it might be a good fit for you-"

"So what do I need to do then?" Dieter fires back, a joint between his lips. "I assume I'll be needing to make a public statement or some shit? Keep the old bastard happy?"

"It's funny you mention that D. I have an email from The Shark himself, with a list of what he wants you to say in your statement, promising he'll back the fuck off if you promise to not go within ten feet of his asset-"

"Have you ever heard of 'Missing People' perfume?" Dieter suddenly asks, taking a hit off his joint, his eyes following the thick plume of smoke as he leans back into the sofa. "Missing... Woman?" he mumbles to himself absentmindedly, licking his lips. "Fuck, what did she say it was? I need to stop going to these things blitzed out of my fucking mind-"

"Dieter, focus. Are we releasing the statement or not?"

"MARCUS!" Dieter calls out for his PA suddenly, ignoring his publicist as he grabs the phone out of his hands. "MARCUS! I NEED YOU!"

"Yes D?" Marcus responds as he rushes into the living room, pulling a fresh pack of Kitkat out of his back pocket. "Did you need a snack?"

"Have you ever heard of 'Missing Someone' perfume?" he asks once more as he pulls up the Safari app on his publicist's phone.  

"You mean 'Missing Person' by Phlur?" Marcus quips, picking up the stray pieces of discarded clothing strewn randomly around the room. “One of my favorite actresses just became the spokesperson for that perfume, swears by it-“ 

“Missing PERSON, that’s what it was!” Dieter shouts, tossing his publicist's phone back at him. “Marcus, you’re a fucking godsend! I knew there was a reason why I kept you around! Could you do me a small favor?”

"What do you need, D?" Marcus asks eagerly, his hand perched on his hip. 

"I need you to buy me 'Missing People'. A couple of bottles, at least."

"How many is a couple?" Marcus asks with a nervous chuckle. "Five? Are you giving these out as gifts or something?"

"Maybe I could call Chriselle, and tell her you're interested in the company, there are more scents suitable for men, D," his publicist says casually, pulling out his laptop from his messenger bag. "I ran into her at Erewhon the other day, she's a big fan of your work, and couldn't stop talking about Cliff Beasts... Now, about that statement-"

"Fuck asking, just go to Neimans or Sephora or something and buy out their entire stock. Lotions and body wash and candles if it comes in that scent, too, Marcus. Go to all of the fucking Sephoras if you need to."

"... the entire stock? D, what is this for?"

"Do I pay you to ask all of these fucking questions? Don't worry about what I'm going to do with it. Just get it in my hands by the end of the day, do you think you could swing that?"

"... yes?"

Dieter takes another drag out of his joint, nodding aimlessly. "Great. Also, stop by Blicks on your way back. I need an entire arsenal and the biggest canvas they have. New brushes, too! Set up my studio and put the 'Missing People' in my bathroom, and I'll want my usual In n Out order, too."

Flustered, Marcus pulls out his phone and starts typing Dieter's requests on his notes app. Running a nervous hand through his hair, he looks at his boss once more. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Get the fuck out of my face and get to work, Marcus. Chop Chop!"

His assistant nods and scrambles out of the living room, tripping on the corner of the area rug on his way out. Dieter's publicist raises his eyebrow at the display, shaking his head as he types away on his laptop. "You know, you could be nicer to him, D. He tries hard to cater to your every fucking whim and fancy... now, are we gonna release that fucking statement or not?"

"What statement?" Dieter asks absentmindedly as he pulls out a small baggie from his robe pocket.  

"The one where you say that you had a little too much to drink and that you didn't mean anything by groping Doll at the Movie Awards, and that you're really sorry and will be donating a couple thousand to a women's shelter-"

"... and this will make The Shark happy? and Feldman off my ass?" he replies, rubbing his gums as he smiles to himself. "I'll be able to stay on the project?"

"You can start packing your bags, yes. Filming starts in a week for the next few months in Europe. It'll give this whole Movie Awards nonsense some time to blow over."

Dieter considers this for a moment. He sticks his tongue out in contemplation, coming to the unsettling realization that he hasn't been in a major studio project in the last few years. He needs this job more than they need him, and deep down, he knows this. He takes one last drag out of his joint, flicking the roach away as he turns towards his publicist.

"Release the fucking statement."

His publicist nods, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Good," he murmurs, genuine relief softening his features. "I can't handle you out of work for another month, not after the fucking pandemic... What's the deal with all that perfume, anyway?"

"What?" Dieter replies absentmindedly, scratching his beard.

"The stuff you made Marcus buy in bulk," his publicist clarifies.

"Forget the perfume. Do you still have those photos I sent you?"

"I've got them, but I haven't checked them out yet. Why?"

Dieter gestures toward the laptop. "Why don't you take a look?"

His publicist eyes him warily, opening the email. His expression shifts to shock as he glimpses the contents. "Is this—"

Dieter nods, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Yep."

"This is huge, Dieter. How did you even get these? They're screwed if this ever goes public—"

"That's why it's payback time. A little warning shot," Dieter interrupts, leaning forward eagerly. "We leak the photos. Anonymously, of course."

"Dieter," his publicist warns, "If they trace it back to you—"

"I'll take the risk. They messed with the wrong guy," Dieter scoffs, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "These amateurs think they can get away with it?" he mutters to himself, then clears his throat. "Remember our motto?"

"Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."

Dieter leans back on the sofa, nodding. "That's right. Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."

Six Months later.

"Hi, I'm Carol Cobb!"

"... and I'm Dieter Bravo!"

"And we are doing a Wired Autocomplete Interview!"

"Alright! Is Dieter Bravo..." Carol energetically rips the first sheet of paper off her card, a playful smile spreading across her face as Dieter looks attentively at the camera. "Is Dieter Bravo dead?!" She bursts into laughter, smacking Dieter with the card, who simply shrugs. "Wow! Why would they hit us with that right out of the gate?"

"Not dead yet!" Dieter exclaims, pushing his signature glasses off his face while gazing into the camera. "Got close... several times," he adds with a pointed smirk.

"...and we are very much thankful for that!" Carol shouts. "Shall we move on to the next one?" She tears the next slip of paper, her eyes widening as she reads, “Is Dieter Bravo secretly married?!”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a secret if I spilled the beans now, would it?” Dieter smiles conspiratorially, rubbing his chin in contemplation.

“I can't imagine you ever settling down,” Carol muses with a smirk. "It seems unnatural, like going against the natural order of things, like sea animals on land. Dieter Bravo, settled down with one girl? Hell would have to freeze over before that ever happens," she teases.

"I think it could happen," Dieter says matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest as he settles back into his seat.

"What could happen?" Carol asks, her curiosity piqued.

"Settling down. Getting married, perhaps... even starting a family," Dieter replies thoughtfully.

"It would take quite the woman to make 'The Great Lothario' change his ways. Seems like an impossible feat," Carol interrupts, chuckling. "A woman who can stop the great Dieter Bravo from his manwhoring ways? Maybe someone who lives under a rock and doesn't know about your reputation."

"Actually," Dieter interjects, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I think I've met someone recently who's made quite an impression on me."

Carol's eyes widen in surprise. "What do you mean, you think you've met someone? Who is this mysterious girl that's captured your attention, D?"

"Well, she's an actress-"

"Of course," Carol quips with a knowing smirk.

"... she's new. I had the pleasure of meeting her at the MTV Movie-"

"You're not talking about Doll, are you? The woman you groped after meeting her for the first time? Someone even said that they caught you sniffing her! Who does that, Dieter?!"

"I am a connoisseur of all things exquisite and beautiful, ma chérie. She smelled absolutely divine, and I swear her scent lingered on me for days after, I swear, just let me nuzzle my face in between the valley of those luscious tits-"

"God, D. I think they're gonna have to edit this shit out!" Carol mutters, looking embarrassed by Dieter's boldness. She leans towards Dieter. "I thought you signed some embargo with The Shark promising you wouldn't mention her," she whispers in his ears. "Even I wouldn't think to fuck with him-"

"Well, Feldman was my main concern, and now he's facing jail time for all of those underage claims and those leaked photos, so fuck it!" Dieter counters, knowing damn well he worked behind the scenes for it to happen, leaking a few photos he had stored away on his iCloud, kissing himself on the mouth knowing it would come in handy sooner or later.  

AP NEWS ALERT: Hollywood bigshot arrested for leaked inappropriate images from an anonymous source of various actresses, denies all allegations of misconduct.

One asshole down, one Shark to bury next, he thinks to himself, chuckling at the thought. "Besides, I can't get her out of my fucking mind! I've never felt this way about a woman before, Carol, I mean it this time!"

"I mean, she's undeniably beautiful," Carol agrees, "but she's still new to the industry. They've been typecasting her in those romcoms with whatshisname, but I've heard she's pushing for more challenging roles—"

"Cut!" The director's voice slices through the air, his eyes narrowed at them both. "This interview is about promoting Cliff Beasts, not discussing Dieter's love life with some woman."

"Hey, that 'woman'? She's my future wife, so watch your damn mouth," Dieter snaps back, his tone defensive.

"Whoa, D, hold on. Future wife? You barely know her!" Carol interjects, her hand pressed against her chest in disbelief. "Take it easy, baby. Get to know her first, at least."

"It's gonna happen, Carol. I can feel it in my damn bones. I was drawn to her the moment I laid eyes on her," Dieter insists, his confidence unwavering.

"Listen, Casanova, I don't care who you think you're gonna marry, but we're on a tight schedule here!" the director interrupts, frustration evident in his voice. "Stick to the damn questions, and no more talk about your little 'girlfriend.'"

"Fine," Dieter mutters, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of water. "But do me a favor—don't cut out the part about her assets. It'll bring in views like crazy. I did you a favor there."

The director waves him off as he storms away. "Remind me why I took this job knowing this idiot would be here," he mutters to himself, heading back behind the camera.

The day of the (not so thought out) wedding.

Dieter is anxiously bouncing his leg, biting his pinky nail as his groomer meticulously applies another layer of concealer under his darkened eyes. "Jeez D, have you been sleeping at all lately?"

"What?" Dieter asks absentmindedly, running a shaky hand through his curls. "Yeah- I've been sleeping, why?"

“Your under-eyes, D. They’re darker than my fucking soul, man. Didn’t I tell you to lay off on the sauce? I’m on my fourth layer of concealer-“

“It’s nothing,” Dieter says dismissively. “Just… have you ever been in love?” 

"Sure I have," his groomer replies, a small smile on their face. "That's why I'm married, silly. Why?"

"Say you like a girl, and you think that this girl might be interested but then TMZ posts leaked photos of said girl and some beefed up Hollywood hunk "canoodling" with each other while filming their movie together in Canada-"

"This is Doll that we're talking about, correct? The one you groped at the MTV Movie-"

"I DIDN'T GROPE HER!" Dieter exclaims, groaning as he sinks further into his seat. "Why does everyone keep saying that? I was simply giving her a friendly, yet casual hug when she APPROACHED ME-"  He huffs like a petulant child, his arms crossed around his chest in defiance. "Anyway, I thought, after I desperately tried to shoot my shot, let my intentions known in that 'Wired' Interview with Carol, that she would contact me, you know? Maybe slide into my DMs-" 

“Slide into your DMs?” His groomer scoffs, plucking a stray eyebrow hair with their tweezers from his face as he dramatically flinches, narrowing his eyes at them. “You flat out said you wanted to smother your face in the ‘valley of her luscious tits’, I would be surprised if she hasn't filed a restraining order against you yet... Let me give you a bit of advice: Girls want to be romanced, not objectified! ... have you ever had a 'real' girlfriend before, D?"

"Hey! I've had girlfriends, alright?" Dieter groans, frustration evident in his voice as he clenches his fists. "Just because they didn't stick around afterward doesn't mean it was all my fault, okay?"

"The girls you hook up with during your benders and then discard once the high wears off don't exactly qualify as 'real' girlfriends, D! Let's be serious here!"

"That's what I'm trying to be," he whines, "I'm trying SO HARD to be serious for once! I can't get this girl out of my head, and it's been what? Almost a year since I've met her? I can't get my dick hard when I'm with anyone else anymore, I don't want to take drugs, it's like I'm fucking broken or something! ... and now she's off fucking Joe Hollywood over here like I'm not bleeding my fucking heart out for her-"

"Wait, you mean to tell me that you're actually sober right now?"

"Well, yeah. The last time I took something was before filming Cliff Beasts, I thought you knew that. Anyway, it doesn't fucking matter. All of that and she doesn't even notice me."

"Well, I would tell you that if you had bothered to read TMZ this morning instead of sulking, you would know that there are split rumors between this girl and Hollywood neanderthal," His groomer retorts, a shit-eating grin on their face. "It was over before it even began. I mean, I've heard for such a massive man, he has quite the tiny di-"

Dieter perks up at that. "Say that again."

"They've broken up. She's back on the market, silly goose."

"So that means-"

"That means that I'm going to groom the shit out of you and help you out by making her realize just what she's missing out on, D." His groomer replies, massaging his scalp as they make eye contact through the mirror in front of them. "You're lucky that I consider myself a hopeless romantic. If you promise not to break her heart, I'll help you get the girl, ok?"

"Shit, do you think she'll like me?" Dieter says nervously, fidgeting in his seat.  

"Obviously," his groomer replies cryptically, a smirk forming on the corner of their mouth. "I may or may not have some intel from another groomer friend of mine about their supposed breakup."

"Oh?" Dieter perks up, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "... and what would that intel be?"

"Oh, you know. Someone might have asked their stylist if they think you'll be attending tonight, how she kept trying to be sly about it."

"Doll asked about me?! Are you serious?" Dieter's excitement is palpable.

"Well, according to my friend, the reason why they broke up was that someone might have moaned your name while being eaten out by 'Joe Hollywood' the other day-"

"No fucking way!"

"She's into you, D! I would say that your little ploy during the 'Wired' interview worked more than you think, bud."

Dieter nods, taking the biggest sigh of relief as he settles in his chair. "One last thing, do you groom just the top half of me, or are you open to grooming other places?"

"What do you mean?" his groomer cocks their head to the side.  

"Shit, well... are you open to grooming my nether regions? It's been a while since I've been with a woman, I'm almost full caveman down there-"

His groomer tsks, pulling out their phone. "Dieter, as much as I love you, I don't love you that much. Let me call someone for that, ok?"

A few hours later, on the red carpet.

"Dieter," his publicist says under his breath as they walk down the red carpet. "The cameras are this way, why are you so distracted?"

"I'm looking for someone," Dieter replies as he winks at the sea of paparazzi, flashing them a peace sign as he walks toward the venue's entrance.

"Well, who are you looking for?" His publicist replies impatiently, looking down the red carpet.

"Doll, obviously. Do you know if she's arrived yet?"

His publicist rolls his eyes, sighing. "She arrived about five minutes ago, don't you see her?"

Dieter inhales deeply, his gaze scanning past the vibrant red carpet until it locks onto yours. His breath catches in his chest, surprised by the unexpected connection. You appear taken aback at first, but swiftly compose yourself, subtly angling your body towards him with a seductive smile playing on your lips.

"Holy Shit..." Dieter's mind races with excitement. "She really does want me."

Filled with newfound confidence, he playfully purses his lips in your direction, sending a cheeky kiss your way as his eyebrows wiggle in amusement. A flush of color blooms across your cheeks in response, catching his eye. But as he revels in the moment, he notices The Shark's gaze narrowing in his direction, a whisper passing between him and you.

That's fucking right Shark.  I'm coming for my girl, and there is nothing you can fucking do about it.  

Later, Dieter observes you from across the room as you sit at your table, alone, nursing another glass of champagne. He notices how you try to avoid meeting his gaze, despite catching you stealing glances at him throughout the night when you think he isn't looking. It surprises him to see you being so reserved, so quiet, especially without The Shark hovering around you like a protective dragon guarding its treasure.

What's gotten you so down, babydoll?  he muses, leaning back into his chair. As if you could read his thoughts, your eyes meet from across the room once more, and you quickly look away, smiling to yourself at getting caught looking.

Dieter senses the moment's significance, his heart racing with anticipation. He knows he must seize this opportunity, the perfect moment to step forward and break the barrier between the two of you. With a determined smile, he decides it's time to make his move.

As he rises from his chair, Dieter's confidence swells, fueled by the intensity of the moment. With purposeful strides, he crosses the room, his gaze fixed on you, the anticipation building with each step. This is his chance to bridge the gap, to finally reveal the feelings he's kept hidden for so long.

He draws in another deep breath as he approaches you from behind, mustering his most seductive gaze as he leans in towards your exposed ear, his warm breath grazing your skin.

"I can't help but notice that you've been eye-fucking me the entire night."

He groans softly as he takes a seat in the chair beside yours, hoping to conceal any nerves as he attempts to exude charm. "I guess my little ploy of trying to get your attention with that 'Wired' interview worked out in my favor-"

You respond with a subtle smile, your fingers gracefully tracing the edge of your champagne glass. How does something as simple as that manage to rile me up? he wonders inwardly, returning your smile.

"You know," you say softly, a chuckle escaping you as you shake your head in disbelief, "There are more normal ways to get a girl's attention-"

The longer Dieter spends in your presence, the more he feels himself on edge, the tension mounting with every passing moment. His pulse quickens, and he can't ignore the growing semi in his suit pants. It's astonishing how much you affect him, like a siren calling out for him while lost at sea, lying in wait, ready to bring him to absolute ruin. 

Fuck. Keep it cool, Bravo.

"Ah, but you're America's Sweetheart, and your pitbull of a publicist won't let me near you, I had to let my-" he gulps at the sight of your ample bust, licking his lips in anticipation, "... intentions very clearly known."

"Well," you breathe, chest heaving. "I don't know if it's 'clearly' known," your voice drops to a whisper, like a secret that is shared only between the both of you, two lonely souls amongst a sea of chaos. "I think you're just going to have to spell it out for me."

Dieter, sensing victory, leans back triumphantly, spreading his legs as he subtly encloses you within his space. His dark, smoldering gaze meets your thinly veiled attempt at your best innocent doe eyes... but Dieter sees right through it. He grins widely, reveling in the knowledge that he's the cat about to get all of the cream—your cream.  That's right, babydoll, I've finally caught you, and I'm never going to let you go.

He laughs at the sight of you, his chin motioning to your breasts.  "Do you want to have sex with me, Dollface?"

Your eyes widen, and a small gasp escapes your lips, as you search his gaze, trying to decipher if he's just bullshitting or if he's actually fucking serious.  I'm serious, alright, he chuckles to himself. "If I miscalculated this fucking thing that's going on between us, tell me and I'll fuck off, leave you alone-"

"What if I don't want you to fuck off, and want to tell you that I'm this close to being plastered and that all I kept thinking about tonight is you railing me with that huge cock we both know is aching for me in some deserted hallway-" you challenge, picking your champagne glass for good measure, downing its contents in one swig.  For courage, he thinks. "I would beg to ask you... what's taking you so damn long, Bravo?"

WhatsApp chat between Dieter & Marcus: Dieter: Hey Marcus, are you still in the venue? Marcus: Yes! With your publicist. Did you need something? Dieter: This party blows. Can I borrow your car? Marcus: Oh, did you want me to drive you home? The party just started, Dieter. Dieter: I can drive myself back, stay for the party! Catch a ride with the suits afterward! Get shitfaced, you're officially off the clock! Marcus: Seriously? Do you know how to drive a stick? It's my baby, I don't know if I feel comfortable with you driving it, are you high right now? 🤦‍♂️ Dieter: No, for the last time, I'm fucking clean, man. Just do me a solid and let me borrow your car, I swear I'll give you a fucking raise! What do you want for one night with your baby? Tell me, I'll give you anything! Marcus: Fine. Just tell me what you did with all of that fucking perfume, there"s a bet going on and I would like to shove it in your publicist's face that I know! Dieter: Seriously man? That's all you want? Marcus: Do you want my keys or not, D? Dieter: Fine. I took the fucking perfume, doused my entire bedroom in it, and fucked myself smelling it thinking about Doll. Dieter: Is that enough of an explanation for you? Come the fuck on, man, I need your car! Please! 🙏 Marcus: 🙌 Meet me at the lobby in five. 

"So tell me," Dieter shouts as he peels out of the parking lot, laughing at the delighted squeal that escapes your lips as you throw your head back, your arms raised upward as he turns quickly into the streets of Los Angeles. "How often did you think about me, babydoll?"

You boldly reach over to cup his erection, your small hand wrapping around the tip of it. "As much as I reckon you thought of me, Bravo. Tell me, how often did you come, alone in that massive bed of yours, to the thought of your cock thrusting into my tight pussy?"

"Fuck baby, do you want me to crash this car? It's not mine, you know?"

"Answer the fucking question, Bravo."

"Baby, if you only knew how much I fucking came just thinking about your tits... I don't think you know just what exactly you got yourself into, little girl... but I'll show you just how I thought of you coming on my fat cock, giving me absolutely everything-"

I've been hungry for you, baby, and I'm going to feast on every inch of your body, just you fucking wait-

He cackles like a madman as he peels into the dwindling streets of LA. "Are you hungry, Dollface?" he yells, almost running a red light, his eyes fixed on the glowing In n Out sign in the distance.

"I shouldn't, I have that screen test next week-"

"Fuck the screen test!" he shouts. "The night is young, and you are gorgeous. Let Dieter take care of you, baby... while I still have you in my grasp. I ain't gonna waste a moment I have you in my orbit!"

He pulls into the In n Out parking lot, cutting the engine, and pulls you into his lap, his face immediately diving into the valley between your breasts. "You can suffocate me with these tits and I would die a happy man," he mumbles against your skin, his growl reverberating throughout your entire body like wildfire. "What do you say, Doll? Would you do me the honors?"

"Fuck Dieter," you moan, tipping your head back in pleasure as his tongue teases the edge of your dress covering your breasts. "Grab my tits," you beg, grabbing his hands for good measure. Dieter wastes no time as he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss, his tongue licking along the seam of your mouth, begging for entrance.  

"Open up for me, baby girl. Let Dieter taste you-" he pleads, and you pull away with him, your hair wrecked and lipstick smeared. Dieter imagines he looks as wrecked as you do, his pupils blown and chest heaving. You pull him into another kiss, sighing into it, your mouth opening slightly. Dieter takes this as a sign to devour you completely, your tongues fighting for dominance as you begin to rock your hot pussy against his thick cock.

"I want to ride you into the sunset, D," you whisper, pulling at his curls harshly. "Are you gonna give me what I want? Or am I going to have to find someone else to do it?"

"Fuck-" Dieter pants, his gaze reaching yours, his mouth agape in awe. "How in the fuck did I get so fucking lucky-"

"Grab my tits, D," you ask once more, moaning and throwing your head back, biting your lower lip as you grind on his throbbing erection. Dieter quickly obliges, his large hands engulfing both of your breasts. His fingertips graze the edge of your dress, the hardness of your nipple pressing into the middle of his palm, and he swears that if he were to be struck down dead right at this moment, he would die a happy man.  

"Shit, I knew that your tits would feel amazing, but you are so fucking soft-"

"Oh yeah?" you tease, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear. "I'm soft in other places, too." You whisper in his ear, and he swears he feels the ghost of your smile as he moves his hands back on your hips, his fingertips squeezing the softness of your ass as he angles his dick where he imagines your clit to be, thrusting into your hot, wet heat. "Fuck, so goddamn soft-" he groans, his tongue licking a wet stripe along the tops of your breasts. "You're fucking everything I never knew I always wanted, baby girl," he praises you honestly, cupping your cheek as he pulls you into another kiss, groaning as your tongue dances with his, leaving him breathless.  

"Am I?" you pant as you wrap your arms around his neck, your pussy dragging along the thick outline of his cock. "You talk like you want to marry me or something-"

"... oh, but I do want to marry you, breed you, keep you locked up in my mansion... you have no idea just how much I've thought about you, these last few months-"

"Dieter! My Man!" someone shouts in the distance. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he yells back, "I'm about to fuck this beautiful woman in an In n Out parking lot, what are you doing here?"

"Fuck, can I take a pic, man?" the fan shouts as he approaches the convertible.  

"Don't you see we're a little preoccupied?" you shout at the fan, flicking him off. "Get the fuck out of here!" you shout.

The fan quickly takes a shot of the both of you with his iPhone, a half-hearted apology mumbled out of his mouth as he quickly runs back inside of the restaurant, probably to the group of men who are completely unaware of the two celebrities dry-humping the fuck out of each other in their wake, eating their double-doubles and sneaking sips out of a cup filled with some cheap ass vodka, fist-bumping the night away.

"Are you gonna come in those Gucci pants of yours, D?" you tease, your pace quickening as you ride his dick relentlessly. "How does it feel having America's Sweetheart getting you to come in your pants, baby?"

"Fuck," Dieter pants, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pushes you against the steering wheel, angling the tip of his cock against your clit. "How does it feel to get fucked by The Devil, sweetheart? Your pussy is begging me to just rip those fucking panties off and just claim you, right in front of all of these fucking people-"

You shiver at that, a choked curse and his name out of your mouth as he sees the entirety of your body begin to quiver and shake.  

"Don't fight it, baby, I know you fucking like the attention, I know you want everyone to see how much of a bad fucking girl you are inside... but don't worry, Dieter knows, and I'll help you show them," he pulls you against him harshly, your chest pushed up against his, as his teeth sink at the hollow of your neck. "I'll get the world to see just who you really are, baby. Let me show you the way-"

You scream as he thrusts into you once more as he rips your orgasm out of you violently, crying out into his neck as Dieter explodes into his Gucci trousers, the mixture of your slick and his thick cum making an absolute mess of his loaned suit.  

I guess I'll have to pay for these, Dieter thinks to himself as he cradles your shaking form into his arms, licking away the salty tears running down your face. "You did so good, Doll, don't cry-" he whispers, stroking the back of your head as he tries to get you to calm down. "What do you need, baby?"

You lie quietly against his chest, your breaths falling into rhythm with his, as he assumes you're simply gathering your thoughts. "Baby," he pleads softly, his hands tracing soothing paths along your exposed back. "Please, say something—"

"Marry me," you whisper against his chest, the words barely audible but filled with undeniable certainty.

Dieter freezes, his heart skipping a beat at your unexpected words. For a moment, he's speechless, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden turn of events. Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"What did you say?" he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid that speaking any louder might shatter the fragile moment.

You lift your head, meeting Dieter's stunned gaze with unwavering determination. "I said, marry me," you repeat, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. "Let's take this car and drive it to Vegas, get married by some overweight Elvis impersonator, and book the honeymoon suite at the Cosmo... I don't care how we do it, but let's get fucking married, D!"

Dieter's mind whirls with a mix of emotions—astonishment, disbelief, and a profound sense of joy. He blinks several times, as if trying to confirm that he's not dreaming, before a wide grin spreads across his face.

"Oh, my God," he breathes, his voice trembling with emotion. "Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes."

Taglist:@yxtkiwiyxt @skysmiller @picketniffler @readingiskeepingmegoing @islacharlotte @drewharrisonwriter

@missladym1981@amyispxnk@thespookywookies@stevie75@mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@daydream-believer19@survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @gobaaby-blog-blog

[waitmyturtles]

FACT-CHECK! Status of Thai Marriage Equality Bill (TL;DR Will not be ratified and signed into law in time for Pride, but still gives us something to celebrate anyway!)

Thanks to our WONDERFUL FRIENDS in Thailand, @happypotato48 and @recentadultburnout, I've fact-checked and edited my post earlier today about the Thai marriage equality bill passing its first round of Senate deliberations. From @happypotato48!

yeah i think it's unlikely for the law to be signed by june and from what i've read if there shenanigans, things might get delay (i really hope not.) but if everyting go smoothly the law will be signed in 2-3 months and will take effect 120 days after it's signed. so likely october or november when we'll get marriage equality here. but the laws did only dictated that the amendment must finish in 60 days so maybe (finger crossed) we actually get this sooner.

From @recentadultburnout!

My knowledge is pretty lacking, but here is our current law-making process.

Some folks last week asked about what exactly the "legalization" of the bill meant after its passage in the Lower House/House of Representatives last week. I loved @happypotato48's use of the word "shenanigans" because throughout this entire process, I'm either reading into and/or expecting some shenanigans to go down because, government. But anyway:

The bill was approved in principle by the Upper House/Senate yesterday in Thailand. On July 8th, it'll go through an amendment process, and then a full approval of the bill in whole (scroll down for the reblog and additional tweet).

The most likely and/or hoped for scenario is that the Senate will take on the amendment/editing and approval process without hiccups in July, and that THEN, the bill will move to the Royal stage, which means that it'll get published in the Royal Gazette, and after 60 or 120 days (I think that was depending on what Parliament was saying), will become official law.

What are the prospects of shenanigans? I was reading on Twitter that some protests and arguments during yesterday's (or today's, depending on your timezone) deliberations in the Senate had to do with some senators stating that families are "naturally" occurring between men and women, and that quite a bit of reframing has to happen -- particularly reverberating by way of what other laws will be impacted (such as adoption laws, or benefits-by-family laws) when marriage equality is implemented. From the Thai Enquirer on Twitter:

(Source)

This response tweet below made me giggle, because it reminded me that a lot of the shows we love deliberately criticize the kind of inane arguments and politics that were made in the Senate yesterday:

(I can't find the post, I think @respectthepetty may have made it, about how last year's Midnight Series shows on GMMTV referred to politicians multiple times as dinosaurs. If someone has it, can you link me, and I'll edit this post? It was so apropos!)

In any case: the Senate has NOT fully approved the bill yet, and there's more yet to come in July. Shenanigans could happen, anything could happen!

If the Senate does NOT approve the bill in July, it will kick BACK to the Lower House/House of Representatives for ultimate approval before the Royal approval stage. Considering the overwhelming number of votes the bill got in the Lower House last week, it is almost (ALMOST!) guaranteed that it'll pass THAT stage. BUT! There's always the opportunity for shenanigans.

So advocates are still waiting, hopeful, but still waiting. The baddies who took up arguments in favor of the bill during yesterday's hearings are to be celebrated nonetheless.

IN ANY CASE. That this is even being deliberated for as close as we've ever gotten to legalizing marriage equality in a Southeast Asian country is worthy of celebration during Pride.

[nerdygaymormon]

I hear so many people hating on the Olympics for showing drag queens reenacting the Last Supper. That does seem pretty blasphemous. I'm curious to hear your thoughts about that

The morning after the 2024 Paris Olympics opening ceremony, my mom expressed her disgust at drag queens recreating da Vinci’s "Last Supper" and said it’s fine if they don’t believe but they shouldn’t mock others. I had no idea what she was talking about, I watched the opening ceremonies but I missed that. She admitted she didn't notice it either but it was all over her morning news.

Tbh, I figured if she was going to be offended by anything, it would be the multi-racial ménage à trois

Or possibly the guillotined Marie Antoinette holding her head

I found online that what she was referring to is what took place on a bridge over the river Seine. There was a table with a red carpet down the middle which served as a catwalk. At the center of the table was seated a woman wearing a silver headdress, surrounded by some drag queens and dozens of dancers and artists. Models featuring fashions from France's most promising young designers walked the runway.

The specific part of the ceremony that caused the offense was a closeup of the people at the table. The tableau was reportedly based on a painting by Dutch artist Jan Harmensz van Biljert called "Feast of the Gods," painted in 1635, and is housed in the Musée Magnin in Dijon, France. In the painting, the Greek gods on Mount Olympus have a banquet to celebrate the marriage of Thetis and Peleus.

The figure seated at the center of the table is Apollo, being the sun god he has a halo of light around his head.

One thing I liked is they updated the idea of Apollo with his lute to be portrayed by French DJ Barbara Butch with her equipment. Barbara advocates for several causes, such as acceptance of obese people and lesbian rights. She says her "aim is to unite people, gather humans & share love through music for all of Us to dance & make our hearts beat at unisson! Music sounds better with all of Us!"

They also had a blue Dionysus, the Greek god of wine, fruit, vegetation, and festivities.

All that meaning wasn't explained during the broadcast and went over my head, but I guess it makes sense to have a scene in the Olympics that gives a nod to the Greek gods, where the Olympics began, and which is meant to convey celebratory festivities, and is based on a painting housed in a French museum.

Even though there was no iconography like bread, wine, or even a bag of gold coins, having a bunch of folks on one side of the table reminded some people of Leonardo da Vinci's "Last Supper" painting.

The ceremony’s artistic director Thomas Jolly has said it was meant to celebrate diversity and pay tribute to feasting and French gastronomy. "The idea was to create a big pagan party in link with the God of Mount Olympus — and you will never find in me, or in my work, any desire of mocking anyone," Jolly said.

My guess is that if drag queens wanted to portray the Last Supper, they're talented enough that it would've been clear that was the intent.

Even if they meant to portray the "Last Supper," that painting has been recreated in many creative ways and I've never heard anyone upset about it, but maybe in this case they're upset because there were queer people involved. They forget that it is a queer painting, having been done by one of the most famous gay men in history, with one of the characters at the table being modeled on da Vinci's own lover Salaì.

Let's say the Olympic organizers did intend for this scene to be reminiscent of the "Last Supper," I'm good with it. Jesus would invite everyone to have a seat at the table, which is a good message for the Olympics to convey, all are welcome. No person at that table would be excluded from Jesus' table, but there's a number of Christians who would exclude themselves if it meant not having to sit with queer people and others they perceive as sinners, which is ironic since Christianity teaches that we're all sinners.

In summary, I think some people misinterpreted the intention of what was presented, and a group of conservative media types promoted that misinterpretation to cause outrage because that would generate views and clicks. Most people who are angry by this weren't upset when they saw it originally aired, they are furious because they were told that they should be upset about it.

[she-is-ovarit]

I feel like not nearly enough education and awareness is provided for people and especially kids to recognize pedophile culture and grooming behavior.

Pedophiles view and treat children and teens as equals, and grooming often happens very slowly over time through the pedophile devoting quality time to the child or teenager. The actually grooming piece can take years. They also only rarely force or coerce a child into sexual contact - instead, touching is gradual. Pedophiles take the perspective that children and teens are capable of consent. People should genuinely be cautious of someone who seem to hyperfocus on and operate from the perspective of children and teens being psychologically developed enough to consent to what are normally adult responsibilities and decisions - especially pertaining to sex, sexuality, and the kids' sex-based characteristics.

A bullet list of common characteristics:

Popular with both children and adults.

Appears to be trustworthy and respectable. Has good standing in the community.

Prefers the company of children. Feels more comfortable with children than adults. Is mainly attracted to prepubescent boys and girls. Can be heterosexual, homosexual, or bisexual.

“Grooms” children with quality time, video games, parties, candy, toys, gifts, money.

Singles out children who seem troubled and in need of attention or affection.

Often dates or marries women with children that are the age of his preferred victims.

Rarely forces or coerces a child into sexual contact. Usually through trust and friendship. Physical contact is gradual, from touching, to picking up, to holding on lap, to kissing, etc.

Derives gratification in a number of ways. For some, looking is enough. For others, taking pictures or watching children undress is enough. Still others require more contact.

Finds different ways and places to be alone with children.

Are primarily (but not always) male, masculine, better-educated, more religious than average, in their thirties, and choose jobs allowing them greater access to children.

Are usually family men, have no criminal record, and deny that they abuse children, even after caught, convicted, incarcerated, and court-ordered into a sex offender program. The marriage is often troubled by sexual dysfunction, and serves as a smokescreen for the pedophile’s true preferences and practices.

Are often, but not always, themselves victims of some form of childhood sexual abuse.

Even if the pedophile has no children, his home is usually child-friendly, with toys, books, video games, computers, bikes, swing sets, skateboards, rec room, pool, snacks – things to attract children to his home and keep them coming back. Usually the items reflect the preferred age of his victims.

A female pedophile usually abuses a child when partnered with an adult male pedophile, and is often herself a victim of chronic sexual abuse.

A pedophile can act independently, or be involved in an organized ring, including the Internet, NAMBLA (North American Man/Boy Love Association), and other pro-pedophilia groups. Some pedophiles recognize that their behavior is criminal, immoral, and unacceptable by society, and operate in secrecy. Some are quite open and militant about their practices and advocate the normalization of pedophilia under the guise of freedom of speech and press, and uses innocuous language like “intergenerational intimacy.”

Here is another source:

Generally, pedophiles do not use force to have children engage in these activities but instead rely on various forms of psychic manipulation and desensitization (eg, progression from innocuous touching to inappropriate touching, showing pornography to children) (1, 5, 17, 21). When confronted about engaging in such activities, pedophiles commonly justify and minimize their actions by stating that the acts “had educational value,” that the child derived pleasure from the acts or attention, or that the child was provocative and encouraged the acts in some way (1, 3, 9, 22–24).

Many, many pedophiles use the trans rights movement and the gay movement to be able to access child victims or normalize pedophile culture by justifying certain behaviors and actions as having educational value.

A popular thing I see on here are comics or graphic design art that seemed to be aimed at children or teens to "educate them" about sexuality, trans identity, etc. This is not appropriate and is a red flag.

"The percentage of homosexual pedophiles ranges from 9% to 40%, which is approximately 4 to 20 times higher than the rate of adult men attracted to other adult men (using a prevalence rate of adult homosexuality of 2%–4%) (5, 7, 10, 19, 29, 30). This finding does not imply that homosexuals are more likely to molest children, just that a larger percentage of pedophiles are homosexual or bisexual in orientation to children (19)."

Fifty percent to 70% of pedophiles can be diagnosed as having another paraphilia, such as frotteurism, exhibitionism, voyeurism, or sadism (7, 12, 25).

In general, most individuals who engage in pedophilia or paraphilias are male (2–7, 9, 10).

Pedophilic women tend to be young (22–33 years old); have poor coping skills; may meet criteria for the presence of a psychiatric disorder, particularly depression or substance abuse; and frequently also meet criteria for being personality disordered (antisocial, borderline, narcissistic, dependent) (27) (Table 1). In incidents in which women are identified as being involved in sexually inappropriate acts with children, there is an increased chance of a male pedophile being involved as well (7).

In a study by Abel and Harlow (15) of 2429 adult male pedophiles, only 7% identified themselves as exclusively sexually attracted to children, which confirms the general view that most pedophiles are part of the nonexclusive group (attracted to both adults and children).

Federal data show that 27% of all sexual offenders assaulted family members.

The study by Abel and Harlow (15) found that 68% of “child molesters” had molested a family member; 30% had molested a stepchild, a foster child, or an adopted child; 19% had molested 1 or more of their biologic children; 18% had molested a niece or nephew; and 5% had molested a grandchild.

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

I've thought about posting this more publicly, but I'm hesitant to do that because this isn't a topic I discuss very often. My blog has always been kind of a public diary in a way, so I'm going to leave this up for now.

I am terrified of another Trump presidency for so many reasons. I'm a gay woman who is in a relationship and would like to be able to not only get married, but have my marriage be recognized in every state in this country. I'm the older sister and future sole guardian of a sibling who has developmental disabilities. It pains me more than I can express how awful it is living in a country that does the bare minimum to support its citizens, especially its disabled ones.

I've been very vocal on my disdain and disgust for how the Biden administration and our government as a whole is handling the Palestinian genocide. Anyone who knows me knows this. I've gotten involved and plan on continuing to protest and do what I'm able to.

With that being said I did vote for Kamala Harris, and I've gotten into debates with people I considered to be friends over my decision to vote. The number one argument that being highlighted was "it doesn't matter who wins because both Harris and Trump are Zionists who don't care about Palestine."

I agree that our government is deeply rooted in Zionism, and it genuinely pains me to know that human rights of people who are not white do not matter to our government.

However, as someone who has been a very vocal advocate for human rights the majority of my life, saying "it doesn't matter who wins because the outcome will be the same" is not only incredibly ignorant, it's just plain stupid.

Donald Trump has made a name for himself as a racist. Someone who has been blatantly and openly homophobic. He has made disgustingly ableist comments on disabled Americans time and time again. He's a rapist, he has sexually assaulted multiple women. He started an insurrection that resulted in violence I have never seen taking place on the Capitol.

And now he's going to be sworn back in this January.

I'm angry, and I'm sad. Not only as a member of the LGBTQ community and a supporter of our disabled community, but also as someone who was sexually assaulted. This isn't something that I talk about very often, publicly or privately, but it is so fucking painful knowing that our country does not view SA survivors as real people who deserve to live knowing their abusers will be held accountable for their actions.

Because why the fuck would anyone want to come forward, knowing their abuser can become President not once, but twice and win the popular vote the second time.

I hate this country, and I mean this when I say if you voted for Trump or voted third party, or didn't vote at all, you are part of the problem and the next four years are going to undo the most basic of human rights this country has barely started to grant its citizens.

Fuck each and every one of you.

[tomorrowusa]

The Republican war against women continues.

In addition to reproductive freedom, MAGA Republicans are now seeking to get rid of no-fault divorce.

Conservative US lawmakers are pushing for an end to no-fault divorce

Some prominent conservative lawmakers and commentators are advocating for ending no-fault divorce, laws that exist in all 50 US states and allow a person to end a marriage without having to prove a spouse did something wrong, like commit adultery or domestic violence. The socially conservative, and often religious, rightwing opponents of such divorce laws are arguing that the practice deprives people – mostly men – of due process and hurt families, and by extension, society. Republican lawmakers in Louisiana, Oklahoma, Nebraska and Texas have discussed eliminating or increasing restrictions on no-fault marriage laws.

Religious fundamentalist MAGA males want to be able to point the finger of blame at women in divorce cases. And by packing the courts with misogynist judges along the lines of Alito and Thomas, it will be women who will usually end up on the losing side.

Today's GOP superficially professes loyalty to the memory of Ronald Reagan. But in addition to their idolization of the Evil Empire, this is another way they are trying to nullify his legacy.

Before 1969, when the then California Republican governor, Ronald Reagan, who had been divorced, approved the country’s first no-fault divorce law, women, who are more likely to experience violence from an intimate partner, were often forced to stay in marriages. If they could not prove that their husband had been abusive or persuade him to grant a divorce, they would not be able to take any assets from the marriage or remarry, according to a study in the Quarterly Journal of Economics. States around America gradually followed suit and passed similar laws allowing unilateral divorce until 2010, when New York became the last state to approve the practice.

Getting rid of domestic violence laws could be next on the Republican fundamentalist agenda. Putin did this in Russia – another reason why the MAGA crowd loves Putin.

Between 1976 and 1985, states that passed the laws saw their domestic violence rates against men and women fall by about 30%; the number of women murdered by an intimate partner declined by 10%; and female suicide rates declined by 8 to 16%. Without such laws, “it’s hard to prove anything in court relating to a family because you don’t have any witnesses”, said Kimberly Wehle, professor at the University of Baltimore School of Law. “It’s very difficult to get evidence to show abuse of children. How do you do it? Do you put your kids on the stand?”

Republicans want to socially return the country to the 1950s when women were in the kitchen, gays were in the closet, and blacks were out of sight. They would ultimately want to turn the clock back to the 1650s when women were little better than chattel slaves.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

John Pavlovitz at The Beautiful Mess:

Ever since Republicans killed Roe v Wade, I’ve been hearing that Gen Z is so pissed off that Republicans have taken away women’s body autonomy, that they are going to show up en masse in November to reject them and Donald Trump and elect Kamala Harris.

And the numbers are indeed showing unprecedented engagement by young voters and that they’re skewing decidedly Democrat. And while this reality gives me hope for this nation and its future, the idea that teenagers and twenty-somethings are expected to come in and save themselves from a political battle we adults lost, is an indictment of us all. They shouldn’t be in this place to begin with and we need to look in the mirror and face our shared failures: Over one hundred million of us couldn’t be bothered to vote. Others selfishly squandered their votes with third party support. Still others foolishly bought into the lie that Republicans would never overturn a law that was fixed and settled. Others of us may have simply relaxed, believing America would never see the unthinkable happen—until it did. No matter where we have individually fallen short, we all need to examine our consciences, repent from our specific mistakes, and most of all, be a part of repairing the damage we’ve made possible. Collectively, we have allowed Donald Trump, his predatory party, and three purchased, hand-picked Supreme Court justices to legislatively violate our daughters. It’s as simple as that.

We have failed to protect them from and that should fully grieve us all. So, yes, I’m glad Gen Z is disgusted, but we as their parents should be, too. Not only should we be disgusted, we should be vocal and visible. I hope we see more moms and dads come to the defense of all our kids; showing up at school board meetings and town civil gatherings and rallies and courthouse steps and church meetings and on social media and at family gatherings, and most of all in the voting booth. We should be forming a sprawling, outraged army that will flip America Blue without Gen Z’s help. We cannot fail our kids again, as we won’t get another chance to fix anything. As Donald Trump has promised, our votes and voices will not matter after November if we do not prevail. Right now, based on polls, the GOP is a few percentage points or a handful of states or possibly tens of thousands of votes away from instituting a national federal abortion ban, from subjugating every woman to Conservative Evangelical will, from continuing to take children’s healthcare out of the hands of parents and their physicians and into the hands of Conservative politicians.

And they won’t stop there. They will target same-sex marriage. They will continue to remove worker protections from minors, make it easier for adults to marry children, outlaw birth control, eliminate gender-affirming care. Part of Project 2025’s agenda includes erasing LGBTQ young people by removing all mentions of them in government institutions and organizations. Republicans have promised to criminalize LGBTQ advocates and allies and we need to believe them. The sickest of ironies in this moment, is that with all their histrionics and carrying on about the Left endangering the children of this nation, the Republican Party and the Evangelical Church have been projecting. They are the ones targeting our kids: their bodies, their marriages, their medical decisions, their very identities.

Parents and parents alone should make the decisions about what happens to their daughters and sons. These are choices to be made in the sacred space that is a family in their home, free from outside interference. Government does not belong there and the Church, only if invited by personal faith. Republicans and Evangelicals have no right to enter into that space and legislate their moral prejudices or mandate their antiquated theology for the rest of us. Another human being’s body and bedroom is not their jurisdiction: not a politician’s or a pastor’s.

Another home run post by John Pavlovitz.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Wilbur Turner has witnessed his fair share of hate since he came out as a queer man 27 years ago in Alberta. He’s seen it from pockets of the Christian right and from the then-Progressive Conservative government in his home province when it opposed same-sex marriage in the mid-2000s. In the years since, documented attacks against the LGBTQ community have ebbed and flowed and moved from mostly behind closed doors to public spaces like schools and libraries. Turner, the founder of LGBTQ rights group Advocacy Canada, said recent events in Canada have been largely influenced by what’s been happening south of the border. “It is pretty well organized. There’s quite a number of different groups that have popped up across Canada that are fuelling this,” he said from his home in Kelowna, B.C. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada, @vague-humanoid

[geeks-universe]

Kiss of Death pt. 4

Anthony Bridgerton x Assassin!Reader

Society has certain expectations of you. If only they knew of your nighttime activities…

That, as it were, was not possible.

Viscount Bridgerton was only afforded a couple of extra hours of sleep following your late night encounter. He still rose relatively early, only to find out from his mother that you had left nearly half an hour ago with an apology and a promise to meet them at the ball that evening.

You were in a rush for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, sleep rarely found itself in the silent hours of the night, and when it did, it was fitful. You couldn’t rest, not until you completed your mission. So, you were run ragged by the time the evening approached.

Business was not as usual, and you didn’t know when the London brotherhood had descended into such chaos, but you imagined the famous Edward Kenway might’ve had something to do with it.

His house had been a makeshift headquarters for the time being, and you’d been hard at work establishing both targets and allies.

Being a prominent member of society, however, came with certain expectations. Even a princess couldn’t publicly denounce societal norms, at least not so boldly, but especially not while trying to maintain anonymity.

The Templars had been amassing power in London for some time, and with the brotherhood as desecrated there as it was, you needed to remain unknown.

Which is exactly why you found yourself cursing God above as you tried to re-stitch the gash in your side. The injury was from the night before, but Graham, the resident medic, had stitched it together. In your hurry to return to the Bridgerton home for the ball, you’d ripped them back open.

Now, you were certainly no medical expert, but you’d had to resort to crude stitches a number of times before to prevent yourself from bleeding out. A part of you was thankful for the modest rhetoric of present society, if only because it shielded the many scars a lifetime of fighting had earned you.

Silvery lines mapped your skin, different shapes and sizes, coalescing to a single story of the life you lead. It was a hard life, almost always dangerous, and mentally demanding, but in a world that tried to tie your life value to your marriage prospects, you were damn proud of it.

A knock interrupted your musings, and you cursed loudly as you whipped around to face the intruder, a knife in your hand before you could logically reason that an attacker would decidedly not knock.

Benedict Bridgerton, the middle son, held both hands up in surrender, his eyes blown wide as he took in the scene before him. At first, common etiquette took over, and he apologized for interrupting, and turned away to protect your decency.

Then, he seemed to process what he actually saw.

“I’ll get the doctor,” he proclaimed, already a step out the door.

You didn’t let him get any further.

Mindful of your wound, and the single stitch that still needed to be fully patched up, you vaulted over the bed.

“No doctor,” you stopped him, pulling him back into the room with a force he didn’t know you were capable of, and then leaning against the door.

He opened his mouth, eyes blown wide in surprise, then closed it once more.

“Pardon my indecency,” you spoke eloquently, gesturing to the bloody mess on your torso. You weren’t fully bare, but you were certainly missing a few layers.

“I really think you need a doctor,” Benedict argued, no longer shielding his eyes. “How did-“

“I will explain,” you promised, forcing his gaze to yours. “Everything. But I need to get to the ball.”

“Maybe that’s not-“

“Benedict,” you interrupted sternly, presenting the needle and thread you were using in one hand. “I promise that I’m fine, but if I don’t make it to the ball soon, I will have bigger worries.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, that he needed to advocate for your health. Instead, he sighed, then nodded.

“What do you need?”

“An escort, for one,” you grinned, pointing to the intricate dress you’d laid out earlier. “And discretion. I’ll tell you everything, but you have to promise you won’t breathe a word to another soul.”

Benedict mulled over the proposition, as he leaned against the bedpost and watched with a morbid fascination as you threaded the last stitch in.

“As long as there’s no danger to my family, I can keep a secret.”

You flashed him a smile, then fixed your slip to the proper position.

“First order of business, I need help with this corset.”

He raised a brow, sure you were joking. When it became evident that you were absolutely serious, his smile faded.

“What would the lords and ladies of the ton think of this?” Benedict teased, helping you dress in the lavish gown you had chosen for the ball.

“I’m sure,” you grunted as the pressure of the corset pushed against the wound, “They’d disapprove of a great many of my hobbies.”

“Having men dress you is a hobby, then?”

There was an easy air between the two of you, like you were fast friends. It reminded you of the stark difference between him and his older brother. Where you could joke along with Benedict easily, every interaction with Anthony was charged, electric even.

“Quite the opposite,” you hummed, and Benedict laughed loudly.

Fast friends, indeed.

You were sure if it were any other Bridgerton, there would be more questions and demands. You were also sure they’d be a little more sober.

But, as it were, Benedict was exactly who you needed at the present. He offered help with no judgment and little questions.

There would be a time and a place where you owed him both, but for now your objective was set, and Benedict certainly didn’t get in your way.

The carriage ride to the ball was tense, at best, and suspicious, at worst. Your fingers flexed against the deep red fabric of your gown, and even through the many, many layers of finery, you felt the pressure upon your leg.

Still, Benedict remained silent, his mouth pulled in a tight line. It was difficult for him to do so, but he held his tongue. For an inexplicable reason, he believed you would tell him the truth, and that was enough to earn his silence.

“Will you be my first dance, Benedict?”

Your voice was gentle against the harsh squeaking of the old carriage. One corner of his lips pulled up in a crooked smile, the street lamps twinkling in his eyes.

“I would be delighted.”

You breathed a laugh, enjoying the last few moments of peace before braving the storm. Despite what your refined birth might suggest, you would never be accustomed to the duties you had as Princess. In a ballroom, you played the part you had to perfectly, but it would only ever be an act. You never felt more like yourself as you did when you had your gear on, hurdling towards the earth in a leap of faith, trusting your judgment and quick wit to grant you a safe landing.

The beating of your heart, the widening of your eyes, the perfect control over your muscles; it made you feel alive.

All too soon, the great pillars of the Craven estate towered outside, signaling your arrival at the ball. The carriage slowed to a stop, the halting of the jostling a minute reprieve from the ache on your abdomen.

Just smile.

Your lips tugged up- not with unbridled joy, but rather polite disinterest- as you took a steadying breath. Benedict got out first, scanning over your features quickly before he extended a hand, helping you out.

You didn’t wince, didn’t even move a muscle, as the new stitches pulled uncomfortably, a dull ache settling against your ribs.

“That’s incredible,” Benedict commented under his breath, leading you past the stragglers outside.

You were late to the ball, but fashionably so. Some of the more aggressive mamas were fixing their daughter’s hair or gowns before they entered. They all dropped to a curtsy as you walked by, murmuring about your dress.

“What is?” You inquired, not even sparing him a glance.

Your shoulders were straight, your head held high. Years of instincts made sure you took particular note of your surroundings, and escape routes if need be, but to everyone else you looked calm- content even- as you glided towards the doors, the intricate train of your dress nearly dragging on the ground. The bodice of the dress looked to be made of red rose petals, their overlapping covering from your wrist to your waist, then cascading down over the layers of red silk. The gown left your shoulders exposed, and just enough cleavage to be deemed tasteful. The placement was careful enough to avoid any noticeable scars, while still being tantalizing to the eligible men.

If only they knew.

“It is truly impossible to tell the position you were in just moments ago.”

The curve of your lips pulled up a little more.

“Everyone has their secrets, Benedict,” you replied quietly, muttering a thanks as the door was opened for you and him. “Some are just better at hiding it.”

As you and the middle Bridgerton boy descended the stairs into the sparkling marble ballroom, the music paused, and they all turned to stare at you.

The queen wasn’t present, luckily. Your father had sent a letter in advance to her, so that it wouldn’t be seen as disrespectful when you didn’t visit her first. You would have to make a royal visit sooner rather than later, but, ironically enough, you tried to avoid royalty. In your experience, too many had been direct supporters of the Templar cause.

You identified as many people as you could- and those you couldn’t, you assessed what sort of threat they might pose. Even as the music resumed and the hushed whisper that’d fallen over the ball had all but dissipated, you found the noise faded to the background.

Somewhere in the chaos of your thoughts and the murkiness of your fear Benedict slipped a dance card around your wrist.

The eyes of paintings seemed to watch you and the expansive ceilings closed in, suffocating you in a way you’d been before.

28.

28 possible escape routes.

The thought was enough to calm the fear swelling in your heart. Once, you would’ve been just as comfortable in the crowd. Once, you were fearless.

Then, your mother…

The dark eyes of Viscount Bridgerton dragged you out of your mind before you could be swept up in the current of memories as he approached you. He bowed deeply, but his gaze didn’t stray.

Hot desire burned there, his eyes slow to draw your figure. He tried to conceal it, like he, too, was startled by the air that crackled with intensity between you.

“I was starting to think you’d decided to forgo tonight’s ball as well.”

There was such a simple curiosity in his words that you couldn’t contain the gentle laughter that bubbled to your lips.

“I suppose I have been rather absent.” You admitted, casting a glance to your escort. “Alas, your brother promised me a dance, so I simply had to attend.”

The frown on Anthony’s mouth could be categorized as suspicious, but Benedict shot him a wink and swept you away, mindful of your hidden injuries.

“I dare say,” Benedict leaned in conspiratorially, one hand placed in yours while the other rested on the small of your back. “You’ve caught Anthony’s interest.”

“His interest?” You echoed, a brow arched. “Or his ire?”

Where Benedict’s moves were graceful and practiced, yours were fluid- the dance of someone who was familiar with precise movements. You were sure you made quite the spectacle, even more so to the eyes of men who wished to marry the rich and beautiful.

“Perhaps,” Benedict laughed, spinning you with ease, “they are not so different.”

Even with the series of spins you performed, you managed to catch Anthony’s stare with each turn of your body. It would’ve been impossible not to, considering his attention had yet to leave you.

“I do believe we’ve managed to anger your brother without a word,” you slyly mentioned, bowing to Benedict as the crescendo drew to an end.

He returned the gesture, flicking a quick look to where you’d stitched your wound together earlier.

“The poets might call that jealousy,” he said, nodding in his brother’s direction, as if to dismiss the conversation.

You hesitated briefly, swallowing against the guilt and anxiety in your throat, before offering a friendly squeeze of your hand.

Tomorrow.

You would tell Benedict the entirety of the truth tomorrow.

Tonight, however, you had a role to play.

You squared your shoulders, raising your head high as you began walking confidently, steadily, in the direction of Anthony Bridgerton. The steel of the twin daggers you concealed against your thighs burned, a gentle reminder of the life you lead.

Anthony was dangerous.

His eyes made you weak in the knees, a bit too much like the lady you were expected to be. He was an attractive man, sinfully so, and you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him.

Perhaps it was the way he challenged you. Or, perhaps, your mind was simply clouded by a haze of lust.

Whatever the case may be, you would not fall so easily to his charms.

“Princess,” Anthony greeted, very obviously shooting his brother a look first.

“Viscount Bridgerton,” you answered, a teasing smile on your lips.

His eyes narrowed a fraction, tension in his brow as he tried to decipher what you could possibly be feeling at the moment. He wouldn’t be able to tell, though. Years and years of training, of learning to wear the mask that most suited you, made you impossible to read.

“You owe me a dance.”

You blinked.

You hadn’t expected him to be so bold. Then again, Anthony, it seemed, had a habit of catching you off guard.

“I don’t recall ever owing you anything,” you shot back evenly, unable to stop yourself from playing into his game.

“You stay in my family home,” he reminded you, mirth shining in those soulful eyes of his.

“Are you suggesting I find other arrangements?” You couldn’t keep a straight face, cursing yourself as a sultry smile spread on your lips.

“No,” he noted the flock of men waiting for your conversation to end so that they might engage with you. “But I am keeping your suitors at bay. Surely, that warrants a dance.”

Your eyes didn’t need to leave his to notice the men congregating a polite distance away, patiently awaiting a chance to speak with you, or perhaps dance. Either way, you didn’t want to. In this case, you didn’t have much of a choice, appearances and all that.

“My knight in shining armor,” you deadpanned, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“A dance then?”

There was a hopefulness there, and a part of yourself you thought you’d long since abandoned twinged desperately.

“Patience, my dear Anthony, is a virtue,” you ran your tongue along your teeth, watching his gaze flick down, tracing the movement with his eyes.

“Perhaps we should tell that to them.”

His smile widened mischievously, and before you could question why, he waved over the nearest suitor. The tall blonde-haired gentleman looked startled, before he rushed over to introduce himself and place his name on your dance card.

You glared at Anthony over the man’s shoulder, physically restraining yourself from doing something childish like sticking your tongue out at him when he had the audacity to shrug.

The rest of the ball continued in a similar manner. Anthony watched on as suitor after suitor approached, all far too eager for your attention. He ignored the twinge of jealousy, telling himself over and over that he didn’t want you in any manner, and therefore he had no reason to feel envious of all the men holding you throughout the night.

It didn’t help, of course, but he’d gotten decent at burying his feelings deep beneath his own stubborn ideas.

“You didn’t ask her to dance,” Daphne noted beside him, leaving her own entourage of suitors.

He knew that look she was giving him. It was the same look his mother gave him before she meddled in his business. It seemed Daphne had inherited a carbon copy of that expression.

“I would think, dear sister, you have your own dances to worry about.”

Daphne smiled thoughtfully.

“It’s okay to like her,” she replied kindly.

The soft tone, and unexpected observation, caused Anthony to stare at his sister for a moment. A moment too long, considering she left him in his confusion, offering no further explanation.

The rest of the night he was left in silence, a lonely shadow watching over the bright ambience. He felt starkly out of place, and was reminded once again that he felt constrained, rather than freed, by the responsibilities on his shoulders.

He released a quiet breath, lingering near his mother as the night drew to a conclusion. You were lost somewhere in the fray, and, much to his displeasure, he couldn’t seem to find you.

When he began to usher his family home, he noted with some amount of curiosity that you had already left, disappeared with only a quick explanation to Daphne.

He felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

Surely, you hadn’t snuck away with a suitor, right? The thought was unpleasant, so much so that the sour look on his face kept his family from engaging with him on the carriage ride home.

He had hoped that perhaps you would stop by late into the night, as you had previously, but Anthony slept through the night with no interruptions.

Tag List: @mysticwitchcraftco @ajanauia @khaleesihavilliard @kariiiel @owenniasstars

[princesscolumbia]

Ranma 1/2 Thoughts, Meta Edition

I have consumed...a lot of Ranma 1/2 content.

I mean, this is kinda what happens when you're a repressed transgirl who discovers the manga a year into a marriage that you got into to "fix" being trans and be "a real boy" in a desperate bid to fill the hole that you wouldn't learn for two decades could only be filled by living as your true self.

I've encountered precisely four (4) types of Ranma 1/2 fans in that time:

Transwomen who see Ranma as their idealized expression of the gender experience ("I'm not like this because I want to be, it's a curse. A curse that gives me a smokin' hot body and HUGE tits! But it's tooootally a curse, for realsies! I'll find a cure any day now, see how hard I'm looking? I'm trying sooooo hard to find a cure...")

Transmen who see Ranma as their perfect representation of their gender experience ("I'm a guy, damnit! This body...it's a curse! I hate it and I want nothing better than to be cured, but all sorts of Life Bullshit keeps getting in the way!")

Lesbians who kin either Ranma (butch NB lesbian) or one of their love interests (Akane - comphet closetted butch lesbian, Shampoo - Strong, smokin' hot bad bitch who goes after what she wants, Ukyo - transmasc coded genderfluid NB)

Completely clueless nimrods who miss the FUCKING POINT and are only into the show for the martial arts and think it would be better if Ranma got cured and they stopped having funny stuff happen.

(In case it's not obvious, IMHO the last group are the worst parts of the fandom and need to Go Away. Most of the toxic stuff that exists in R.5 fanspaces is because of this group of assholes which includes the incels that think everything would be better if Ranma just did stuff that's questionable from an ethics and morality perspective and chased after Shampoo because she's the closest thing to a Barbie-doll these closet fascists can allow themselves to fantasize about playing with, completely ignoring that she's a complex character that's a subversive pastiche to the Japanese racist stereotypes of the 1980s.)

I'm not kidding when I say that in the early days of the public Internet (before Facebook and Twitter ruined it for everyone), Ranma 1/2 was the SINGLE largest fandom by a MASSIVE stretch. I once checked my math on this by going to Fanfiction.net (before the massive purges) and brought up the Big List of All Fandoms and right there at the top with a MASSIVE number of fics was Ranma 1/2 by a HUGE margin. It took three fandoms (Star Trek, Doctor Who, and I believe Naruto if I'm recalling correctly) to have their combined total number of fics exceed the number of R.5 fics on FF.net...and that was JUST FF.net. There was an entire separate index (The Penultimate Ranma 1/2 Fanfic Index) that had the single task of listing, not even curating or reading or reviewing, ONLY Ranma 1/2 fanfics. Not fanart, not commentary, no RP blogs or chat transcripts or whatever, JUST fanfics. And only about half of those linked to FF.net, meaning that if you dig up the archives you'll find at least 60% of all fanfics that people had managed to index in the Ranma 1/2 fandom are missing because they were never properly archived and just...faded from the Internet as the public servers and places like Geocities started disappearing. You can find teasing, tantalizing hints of larger works that all we have left, like scraps of ancient papyri revealing a quote from a missing book of the Bible, are single chapters backed up on niche sites that managed to get spider-crawled by Archive.org, but many great works are just...lost. (There's an ero fic called "Playing with Water" that was SUPER hot and featured elements that we have tags for on porn sites but didn't really have proper words for back in the day...but even back when it was first being written finding the thing was hard...and today? Nearly impossible.)

(If you wonder why I'm such an absolute RABID advocate of AO3, this is why)

For me, Ranma will always be the transfemme coded genderfluid hero that we needed in the late 80s and early 90s. We were on the tail end of the AIDS pandemic, and just like COVID-19 there were a bunch of assholes who used it to ride to power and marginalize queer folk. It was easier to do with AIDS, of course, given the absolutely massive numbers of queer cis men and transwomen who contracted it and died. (Sidebar: the reason "L" comes first in "LGBTQIA+" is because it was the Lesbian nurses who were the caretakers of the Gay men who were dying in numbers large enough to be counted as a tragic statistic instead of a mere tragedy) and while the world was starting to acknowledge (again) that gay men was a thing that existed and they weren't actually trying to corrupt the youth, what we now call "transgender" was still listed in the DSM as a mental disorder that required treatment to "cure." According to the cultural majority in damn near every field you can imagine, the Gender Binary was the only way to exist and if you didn't fit neatly into one or the other then you were Damaged™ and had to be Fixed™ for The Good of All People™ (but specifically so cis-het-white folks, usually men, could feel comfy and not be confronted by things that made them feel icky and might have cooties). It's a truism that's treated as a joke that transwomen get into coding and wind up doing IT work in such massive numbers that between us and the furries we ARE the foundation of the modern Internet. And into the fanspaces packed to the brim with closetted AMAB transwomen who hadn't yet had their egg cracked came this plucky martial artist that gets to swap their gender with a splash of water but somehow still winds up the best of the best, the finest martial artist of their generation. (Goku can suck it, Ranma would turn the Kamea-meha right back on the over-muscled, braindead loser with a food fetish and still make it home in time for Kasumi's dinner)

I'm no sociologist, anthropologist, behaviorist, whatever, but I suspect that the reason Ranma Saotome spawned such a large fanbase so early in the modern Internet's history was specifically because the series created a safe space where people could talk about gender issues with a degree of separation that helped strip away the stigma surrounding feeling like you were in the wrong body.

I get why people like the martial arts aspect. I mean, Ranma kills a demigod. This is NOT something to sneeze at. I also understand the transmen who latch onto Ranma as a kin because I get the feeling like you have no control over what your body's doing and you're going through your days in existential dread of what might be dragging you further and further away from what you always knew was right and correct about yourself. It's a terrifying thing and here's someone who (esp. the anime version) IS a guy trapped in a girl's body.

For me, though, and for a LOT of transwomen out there, Ranma is transfemme. And, yes, canonically Ranma states right near the end of the manga that they're both and they kinda forgot about the 'cure' when they had to pick between that and the really important stuff and that they're okay with being fluid ('cause water, gettit?!) about their gender and it's a damn shame this was the 80s 'cause a continuation might wind up showing Ranma embracing being both...

BUT, and this is a transfemme thing, I know, if you continue the parabolic arc of Ranma's character development, the logical conclusion (for us) is that she eventually decides that she's a woman and just lives in her "cursed" form the majority (or all) of the time.

And yes, this is because that's the transfemme story arc. In the manga in some distant part of the multiverse that peers into our universe and for some reason decides to make me the MC (god, that must be a FUCKING BORING manga by our standards, I weep for those fans), my story arc is the gradual progression of uncracked, closetted transgirl to transitioned out and proud transbien mom. At one point I swapped back and forth between gender presentations because it was safer for me to appear in some spaces as the male that they thought I was. Now I would prefer to die before being forced to go back to pretending to be a man again.

Ranma has the choice, and good for them. Until the Kaisufuu is permanently destroyed, even if the "curse" is locked, they have the option of going one way or the other based solely on their own, personal desire. I can't say I'd be comfortable with that option being available. In that theoretical manga where there's a reboot that gives me a condition like Ranma's, I'd probably wind up destroying the equivalent to the Kaisufuu just because of the threat to my mental wellbeing it presents.

So it's not a stretch to imagine Ranma making the same choice. She's a woman now, she has the life she never realized she wanted because she never had the choice so didn't know she was allowed to imagine it, but now she's happier than ever and why would she ever go back to that struggle of being a guy that only ever brought her pain and challenges and heartache?