Hey Violet! I've been reading your fanfictions for a while and I always thought it was kind of funny that as a straight man I'm probably in the minority of your readers (and Sanders Sides fans in general), but I was talking to a friend recently and it turns out that most straight men actually don't read stories about gay people and think "I wish I could have that kind of relationship with a man, it's a shame I'm straight so I can't." Who would have thought all straight men aren't secretly attracted to other men? I'm a little disappointed it took me 20 years to realise, but I just wanted to thank you for being part of my (Bi? Gay? I'm still figuring that part out) awakening.
oh my gosh hi!!! im so happy to have helped i hope youre having fun!! welcome welcome
you and my cousin would get along he thought 'bi' meant liking men and women *equally* and that all people including straight had incidental homosexual desires until i explained the kinsey scale to him.
love the idea that im some kind of bi guy egg cracker. add this to the statistically significant number of my best friends that left my presence transfem.
i wish you luck and easy paths!
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the community american psycho episode that doesn't exist where jeff goes on an ego and insecurity driven rampage and kills a bunch of people before eventually breaking down and leaving a deranged rambling confession on abed's voicemail at like 3am while curled in a fetal position underneath the study room table. and then when they all have study group in the morning he asks abed if he got the voicemail and abed's like oh yeah nice reference i love american psycho :) and the group carries on like normal while jeff is inner monologuing and staring at his blackberry like this:
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knowing that sam had cancer makes me what to physically fist fight that person who whined bc fcg's death and braius's introduction didn't happen at convenient times
these are REAL FUCKING PEOPLE with REAL FUCKING LIVES who don't operate on a schedule based around your narrative interests!!!! their health, safety, comfort, and enjoyment will ALWAYS come before our preconceived notions about what a dnd campaign should look like, and if you can't handle that, get the fuck out!!!!!!!! we don't want you here!!!!!
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#101
It’s six in the evening. The villain knows this from the telltale sound of plastic scraping against the wooden floor. The sound is accompanied by the undeniably incredible smell of food.
They don’t bother turning their gaze from the window—they can see the hero in the reflection anyway. They nudge the tray into the room as far as they dare, lingering awkwardly on the threshold for a moment.
“Finding everything okay?” they ask after an unbearably thick silence.
“Found everything but my morality,” the villain retorts flatly. “Keeping me in here won’t make me a goody two-shoes like you, y’know.”
The villain had expected worse; concrete floors, metal bars. But here they are, in a plush bed, looking out to the beautiful scenery beyond, a goddamn lasagne sitting on a plate for them.
“Was compassion not a good enough reason to have you in here the first three times?” the hero asks, their voice halfway between confused and joking. “I get the impression you like it though, seeing as you haven’t… left this room.”
The villain scoffs. “Escaped, you mean.”
“Left,” the hero corrects. “You’re not… locked in here, you know.”
The villain finally snaps their gaze from the window. The hero flinches slightly at the speed of it. “What?”
“You’re not locked in here.” The hero shifts on their feet restlessly. “Did you never even try the door?”
It’s too embarrassing to admit that it was too nice here to bother trying to leave. “I like to get my escapes right first time. I won’t try it until I need to.”
“Right.” The hero shuffles again. “Well, there’s a lot of villains who know you’re here and have been wondering where you are.”
“Villains like who?”
The hero smiles, like they’ve fallen into a trap. “Come outside and find out.”
The villain scowls at that. The hero raises their eyebrows expectantly. “Eat your food,” they say casually. “Then come say hi, okay?”
“No.”
The hero sighs, like this is a conversation they’ve had a thousand times. “The door’s always open,” they say gently. “Come see the others when you feel up to it.”
They linger in the doorway for a moment but the villain offers no response, so they simply sigh defeatedly and carefully shut the door.
Tsch. Does the hero think they’re stupid? They’d open that door and heroes would descend on them.
The day they leave this room, it’ll be as part of their greatest escape yet.
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God, not that anyone cares, but I might have to take a break from the cr fandom whenever Dorian speaks about or to the gods. The moment Dorian isn't some goody-two-shoes character and veers off from being an "agreeable" character to many...how easily these ppl just write him off as some stupid simpleton. Jfc from discord to Tumblr (don't know what twitter thinks since I don't frequent that place or live chat because when is live chat ever appeased).
Anyways, I'm excited to see what comes from this conversation with the AH. Cmiiw but I don't think Dorian knows you have to be an exalted ruidusborn to be a vessel. If he did, he wouldn't willynilly agree to sacrifice Fearne or Imogen. It's like a lot of you forgot one of his core values: his friends/loved ones above everyone else. He casted force cage on Fearne in the very same episode to protect her.
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Do you ever just lay awake at night, turning over in your head the stark difference in delivery between Hewson's Van saying--steadily, unshakably--"it's just something that's happening to you...happening to us" and Cypress' Taissa saying--imploringly, whiningly--"this was not just my dream, this was our dream"?
Do you ever just turn it over and over, how often Tai tried to scare Van away, and how it only made Van set her feet more firmly? How Taissa's first love was this person who saw a problem fall into Taissa's lap, a problem that was quite literally trapped inside Taissa's body, and decided unflinchingly: No, that's an us problem now? How she refused point-blank to walk away even with blood in her mouth, how she flatly informed Tai "I'm never gonna be scared of you", and promptly turned a moment of pain into a declaration of love? And how this would etch itself into Taissa for the rest of her life? How she'd take these things that worked with Van--with the person Van was, with the bond they shared--and try so hard to run through an identical script with Simone?
Except Simone is her own person. A completely different kind of person. A person who hasn't been offered any of the context, any of the realities going on inside Taissa. So: naturally she doesn't respond the way Van did at eighteen--and will go on to do all over again in her forties. Naturally, she hears our dream as the excuse it is, not as a plea for connection. Naturally, she is scared away when Taissa pushes, and shouts, and begs. Because there isn't blood in her mouth, not yet, but there will be. And they have a son to worry about. And she isn't eighteen and a special kind of immortal, a special kind of romanticized. She's a grown woman with responsibilities, with priorities, with an understanding that you can't fix someone just because you love them. And Tai can't just perform a revival of the play she and Van had memorized twenty-five years later with a whole new performer in the works, and expect it to shake out the same.
Of course it doesn't work. But look at Taissa trying it. Look at Taissa trying to reframe her first love through a new lens. Trying to recast it. Trying to play it through again. Van taught her love was sticking out the blood, shaking off the pain, making a you problem into an us problem. Does it ever just eat at you, how tragic it is, watching Taissa try to shape her marriage around a woman who isn't even wearing a ring?
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Say what you will about carefully-curated workspaces and highly-detailed rituals for creating magical objects, they're all well and good.
But for me, the peak of modern witchwork is setting up your materials on a desk with sigils painted under the worktop, lighting up some incense you got in a trade at the last swap meet, tapping your wifi as a protective bubble, and making charms while you binge-watch something on your favorite streaming service.
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