#no one ever reads these lmao but hey

[soldierandawar]

Anyone who knows me knows how hard I ride for LGBTQ representation, and since today is Bi Visibility Day, why not share some of my favorite bisexual characters?

This is a long ass list, so I'll keep the commentary short. I'll also try to keep it to the main characters, but there will inevitably be a few sides.

Rosa Diaz - Oh, the ways I love Rosa, she's mean, and yet she's kind. She moved because one person knew her address, and I want to live that life. Now, she is a cop, but she does leave the force in B99's attempt to continue the show after 2020.

Patrick Zweig, Art Donaldson, and Tashi Duncan—only one of these isn't confirmed, but it's true in my heart. They're all toxic and a mess, and essentially in a throuple.

Calliope Torres - Later in life realization. Still has sex with men over the series. She's special because she's also annoying.

Carina Deluca, Amelia Sheperd, Maya Bishop - all from the Shondaland ABC universe.

Annalise Keating - Not nearly as celebrated as she should be. Wonder why?

Alice Whitley - she's black, biromantic, and asexual. Get into it.

Bob Belcher - he's "mostly straight," and he's animated, so that's fun.

David Rose - technically, I think he uses pansexual? He likes the wine and not the label.

Random shoutout to Jake from Schitt's Creek as well cause he's bisexual and has the audacity.

Harley Quinn - if you have yet to see her animated series where she gets with Poison Ivy, what are you even doing? That leads me to...

Poison Ivy - She's also mean, cares about the environment, and that's hot.

Jon Kent - bet you didn't know Superman's son was bisexual.

Lindsay - I'm just going to assume that you haven't seen Queer as Folk, and like..you should fix that.

Chuck Bass - I know, I know. He sucks, but that's what representation is all about.

Chuck/God—This is literally from a one-off line in S11, but isn't it cool that God is bisexual?

Leopoldo, Cruz, and Ivan - Elite is honestly kind of a terrible show, but it is fun.

Max - so basically if you haven't seen Black Sails...what are you even doing with your life?

Sarah - Orphan Black is another show that must be seen.

Jaskier - Idk if this is one that people would mind getting into. The Witcher is a very confusing show, but, like, I love it. & Yennefer of Vendenberg is not bisexual, but she is a hot witch, so that's worth it.

Now, I can get into the characters that are extra special to me.

Marie and Jordan from Gen V - okay, these two are particularly special because Jordan has powers that allow them to switch between male and female presenting, and where else do we see the literal physical embodiment of a non-binary person? Also, there's a little slice of commentary about how they switch to their male form whenever they want to make a point, and they are nervous because they don't think Marie likes them in their female form, and that's rectified by the end. & Marie is, of course, besotted by them no matter their form, and she's got cool, blood-bending powers, and she's hot.

Ashley Davies - you will not find her on any of those listicles that publications make of the top bisexual characters, but you must know who she is because she is the character that started it all for me. On a little show called South of Nowhere about her and Spencer (a newly out lesbian) having a whirlwind high school romance. She's edgy and emotionally unavailable, she's kind of mean, but most of the time, she doesn't mean it, and she means a lot to me, so if you don't like her, keep that shit to yourself.

Kat Edison - my main bitch, my main squeeze, and the love of my life. She's a bisexual disaster, but that's okay because I love her. Heavily identify with her, and I hold her close to my heart.

Evan Buckley— I don't make a habit of relating to male characters; that's not my ministry, but Buck is a very special case. I didn't even click with him until 3x16, and then boom. I was rocked to my core by how much I relate to him, and now he's Bi! I don't have enough words yet to explain what that feels like but shout out to him.

[annoying--moth]

No matter how many times it is explained to me or I talk about it with someone, I can't fully grasp what exactly is going on with art in the arc of a scythe universe. Because like,

It's stated multiple times that post-mortal art is "bland" and "uninspired" and "redone to death," and while I can certainly understand SOME art being like that, surely not all art is like that?? And I understand this in the sense that like, everyone's constantly remaking/repainting/making their own versions of famous paintings and such, but also there still has to be people who don't do that, right??? Like maybe I just have zero reading comprehension and somehow missed the bigger picture, but I feel like all this talk about art being redone to death implies that no one is making original art anymore? Which just. doesn't seem feasible to me?? Because as an artist myself, I can't see immortality taking away my ability to draw or come up with cool ideas. I don't draw because I'm going to die one day, I draw because I like it, and it's a form of creative expression. You can always come up with something new to draw- whether it's a cool oc, or someone you know, or just something random and abstract. The possibilities never end!

Of course, I suppose there is the argument then that people just aren't creative anymore, but I also find that hard to believe. I couldn't imagine ever truly running out of ideas. Like I mentioned above, OCs people??? I highly doubt there's no one in the post-mortal era still making weird, whacky, badass, or just cute OCs. Heck, I'd expect scythe ocs to be really popular! I wonder if it's like a thing for every kid to have a scythe oc phase..? Or at least kids in certain communities/fandoms (like scythe card trading- maybe they make their own cards for their scythe ocs!)

And also, it's confirmed that fiction is still very much a thing in the post-mortal era (I know zombies are referenced in one Gleanings story) so it's not like people can only connect to non-fiction. That's another thing that's discussed more in terms of theatre and writing- people not being able to connect to the themes because they're so far removed from it in reality. But my thing is, I've never experienced war or death (until very recently at least) and I still don't find myself unable to sympathize with people losing their loved ones to death or war or disease, although I suppose this could also have to do with the nanites. Plus the fact that death and war still exist in society as an actual thing that happens, but idk.

Also by the way- I feel like that one Gleanings story The Mortal Canvas has a subtle diss on digital art? And I have nothing against traditional art- heck I probably draw traditionally more often since I'm always doodling/sketching, but I feel like just because art is digital doesn't mean it's "uninspired" or whatever people were saying in the books. In fact, I've found myself moved emotionally by more digital pieces than traditional ones (although I don't see a lot of traditional paintings compared to digital ones tbf)

Also also I want to say- I don't exactly know how well this relates to my point but that one dude in The Mortal Canvas who made the others' artstyles into filters was a huge douchebag. AI art type shit, I was ready to strangle him reading that.

I remember the bit in The Toll about Ezra the artist, and how he said he was just "decent" or "moderately good" or something along those lines when we first met him, and I was going to make an argument about that part too but to be honest it's been a little while since I've read The Toll so I'll have to come back to that one once I reread it. But I think it also had to do with the emotional/creative aspect of art, which again, I refuse to believe immortality has such an influence on creativity that no art is original or interesting anymore. Sure it might make certain things harder, or make motivation worse, but I feel like if someone is truly creative it doesn't matter? Though then again, I'm not immortal so what do I know.

I briefly mentioned nanites earlier, and that is one thing that I do think probably has an impact, and I specifically mean emo-nanites. Since post-mortals can't feel as strong emotions as us mortal humans, perhaps that's also why their art seems more uninspired or whatever, because they can't put as much emotion into it. However, an excess amount of emotion isn't exactly needed to make art either. Like as I was writing this I was looking through my own art and realised that for some pieces I wasn't putting any emotional thought whatsoever into the pieces, yet there's still a clear emotion there when you look at them. Joy, wonder, whatever.

Anyway in conclusion, I think that it's unrealistic to say that all post-mortal art would be dull, uninspired, and meaningless, because I believe there will always be creative people who will make art not because they're gonna die one day, but because they want to and enjoy it, simple as that. Thanks to whoever stuck around long enough to read this far, I really hope it made sense. It's kinda late while I'm writing this and tbh I'm half-expecting there to be some huge detail/plot point that I missed that makes my whole argument totally invalid, whether that's me misinterpreting all the bits about post-mortal art or just being a complete dumbass with zero media literacy. Either way hope this was a fun read, I don't write long-form posts like these super often (note the lack of confidence in my media literacy skills) and if I made a really bad argument/missed something huge please be nice in the notes, I have a fragile ego :(

Uh yeah anyway I think I got everything as usual don't take my rambling *too* seriously, I just always found it confusing how post-mortal art is said to be so "uninspired" (I keep using that word cause I reread chapter 3 of Scythe today and Faraday uses it there) when I personally can't imagine not being able to be creative, though perhaps I'm just self-projecting. So uh, yeah.

[gayabeilles]

too much manic energy rn. put on don angle

[savage-rhi]

💀

[everymlmhybrid]

this part genuinely makes me feel like eating dry wall like i can't explain how i feel about it without making some of you finally tire of me and block me about it i think

[froggomcdoo]

you ever read a work of fiction so good that you immediately need to find more and consume it but it doesn't have any more and there will likely be no more so you just suffer and think what if.

[omegapheromone]

Misce and Me: Presenting as Omega, First Heat, and The Neck Thing.

OK so this post has been a long time in the making! I may actually start a new tag/post series of my personal experiences with my misce identity and such, and call it "Misce and Me" since it's a cool little title.

The whole idea for this post in the first place started from an offhanded thought of, "my neck being a very sensitive erogenous zone is actually very omega of me, huh?" But I never managed to put it into words since I kept going on tangents and just struggling to explain what I meant in a concise way that could've been made into a short personal post, especially since there's a much longer story there that it ties in to, a sort of contextual "how I realized I have a super sensitive neck/what might've caused it" type thing. I'll have to put some warnings here and the rest of the post will be under the cut both for the sake of length and content. It's nothing explicitly sexual, but does brush on the topic at times.

Warning: some parts of this post will likely mention sexuality/related topics, and contains a lengthy story about a personal experience with a crush from years ago. This post will also likely be a long read, so I'm putting it under the cut ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Alright then. Let me get started.

This is an actual IRL thing that happened to me. I'm not mentioning the names of the people involved for obvious reasons.

As I said, originally this post was going to be very short, just a paragraph or two, about how my neck is very sensitive to touch in general and how people touching my neck can be either a fear trigger, or incredibly comforting and/or pleasant, depending on my mood and who is touching me, among other things. I was just going to talk about that at first, but then I realized how it actually ties in to a lot of other things, namely, what I tend to consider my "first heat", and the time that marks me "presenting" as an omega for the first time (i.e. starting to exhibit the traits of my dynamic). It's also a source for some of my personal headcanons regarding omegaverse and/or misce, since it comes from actual personal experiences.

Disclaimer 2: I feel it's necessary to state that all of this happened when both me and the person this is mostly about- someone I had an unrealized crush on- were around the age of 16 or 17. We never dated, and nothing explicit ever happened, but considering we WERE minors at the time (2015/2016ish), I want to be extra clear and state that no consent laws would have been broken in my country even if we HAD dated/anything had happened. Still, I want to keep things vague, especially about the other person, out of respect for privacy. Nobody (save for the person himself, maybe one or two close friends who were present to witness this all at the time, and the handful of people I've recounted this story to afterwards,) would be able to recognize either me or the other person from this.

"Hmm, I hear you, Gamie, but necks ARE erogenous zones for pretty much everyone? Are you sure it's not just that?"

The original topic of this post would have been just a short anecdote of "it's very omega of me to have such a sensitive neck", so let me start by prefacing and expanding on that a little;

My neck is very sensitive to touch, and I have strong reactions whenever it is touched, no matter what kind of touch- medical-related, platonic, romantic affection, or sexual, it's always noticeable, and has to do a lot with who is touching me. For example, medical professionals don't bother me so much since it's usually for a good reason but I do tend to wince/tense up regardless, and while I don't like my family touching my neck, sometimes I'll ask for a shoulder massage and it's unavoidable, so I don't mind too much, even though both cause some minor anxiety, which is likely to do with the fact that I feel vulnerable when my neck is touched. Meanwhile, close friends, or people who are flirting with me (and I'm receptive towards) touching my neck tends to send a lot of mixed signals that are usually pleasant, but also somewhat hesitant/embarrassed (depending on the situation). Partners (romantic/sexual) touching my neck almost always gets a positive reaction though, whether it's just stroking my neck/back of my head or more intimate acts, i.e. kissing etc. Because of the sensitivity, it's almost always a massive distraction and often also a turn-on for me. I tend to consider this to be inherently tied to my identity as an omega, even though it's not necessarily abnormal since necks in general do tend to be sensitive- mine is just a lot more than I assume most others'?

Back when I was around 16, 17 years old and went to high school, I had just started to figure out my gender identity (transmasc) a few years prior, and back then especially, I had this very, very strong feeling that I need to present as masculine as possible so that people will "take my gender identity seriously" instead of just thinking I'm "following a fad" or something. I actually passed as a boy so well that I was only really clocked when teachers would occasionally use the wrong name (deadname) and I'd have to correct them- thankfully, all were understanding about it.

Well, it might be. But to me, I just tend to associate it with being an omega specifically. And maybe mine is a bit more sensitive than usual as I said, though, I haven't exactly experienced living in the body of anyone BUT myself, so I can't say I know for sure. The reason I associate it so strongly with my being an omega has a lot to do with how and when I started REALLY noticing the sensitivity, as it happened around the same time I tend to associate as the time when I "first presented as an omega" and had my first heat. It'd been a thing all my life for sure, but it never felt like an erogenous zone, just a sensitive one, until I was maybe 16 or 17 years old and in (the local equivalent of) high school. I actually figure I'd go into a personal story of mine since I've been wanting to talk about it, just never found the chance to. So, I'm going to tell the misceblr my actual irl story of the time I had a crush and started presenting as an omega around the same time.

This may end up being quite lengthy, so get comfortable, I suppose. I'll start with some background to everything;

Well, in high school, it was also the first time I'd ever had someone flirt with me IRL, since I had been bullied for a long time before that, and had basically zero confidence beyond spite and anger at the people who had made my school years a living hell before then. I wasn't completely blameless either, but looking back now, I realize all my issues with others when I was younger were honestly just caused by my ADHD symptoms, and that went undiagnosed until this year.

The person who flirted with me was a cis guy, who I'd more or less assumed was straight, and so I just brushed it all off as like... oh he's just doing that "dudebro affection" thing, because at the time, I would mainly hang out with guys, and occasionally a few queer/nonbinary/ally friends who mainly were in different classes than my own. So, given that the group both he and I were in WAS mostly straight(ish???) Cis Dudes, I never really saw any of it as more than weird ways of showing affection, when this guy would do stuff like pet my hair or brush his hand against the back of my neck, or find any excuse to touch me in general, usually specifically the neck region (excuses such as, "Oh hey your hair is shorter did you get it cut?" And then touching the back of my neck/base of my skull under the disguise of feeling that "fresh haircut feel" or whatever. Yes, looking back, I was oblivious as hell). This kind of stuff had always made me tense up slightly and sent shivers down my spine, honestly likely because I hadn't ever had anyone touch my neck in a way that wasn't either completely accidental or obviously fully platonic, and it was emotionally difficult to process something that was so new and overwhelming. I used to think I didn't blush easily, but looking back, I'm certain he would've clearly seen me go red in the face from just those touches alone, and if he'd been straight, I imagine he would've commented on it and stopped, instead of persisting. (Also, I later found out he was very likely at least Bi, if not gay, but at that point we had already lost contact, sadly)

At some point during the fall semester, I had gone to school extremely tired, having a bad hair day, feeling sleep deprived and grumpy, probably about to get my period or something and hence even more irritable than usual. I was on time for class and went in, sat in the middle seats, next to some girls I knew well enough but weren't REALLY friends with, mainly because none of the guys I USUALLY sat with in this class had arrived yet, and I thought they might've been skipping class anyway. They eventually arrive after class has already started, and the guy who had been making advances towards me walks past to go to the back row seats (as usual) but on the way, he reaches towards me in an attempt to pet my hair/pat my head or something, a gesture he did often, and I actually usually enjoyed, however, this time I was worried about my hair, since I'd spent an hour trying to get it to look decent, and the amount of hairspray I'd used was probably not very healthy for my lungs (ah, my pop punk quirky phase was... something)- So as he touches my head, I send a sideways glare at him out of annoyance, maybe pushed his hand away as well if I recall correctly. Only- I'd already been in a bad mood all morning, and my glare must've been exceptionally cold, because his expression kind of dropped, and he hurried to his seat. I didn't think much of it at first, I'd rejected touches like that on occasion before and shown some frustration in the past when I'd been in a bad mood, and though he'd avoid me for a bit to let me cool off, he would always end up talking to me again in a day or two at least. This time, though, was a bit different.

I feel that I first "presented" as an Omega, somewhat tied to all of this happening with me and that guy, around that age. I had of course been aware of the omegaverse trope for a long time- I mean, I grew up reading fanfic, so duh- and to some degree related to (omegaverse), but didn't REALLY look for fics etc themed around it specifically. This guy, I won't describe him too much beyond that he was a bit taller than me and had a bit of a "skater guy" type style + would ride his skateboard around the halls no matter how much teachers told him to stop lmao. I never felt that he was "my type" in particular, but we clicked well with similar senses of humour and overall he was a comfortable presence in a way I hadn't really experienced before, especially since I'd dealt with so many bullies pretending to be friendly only to mock me later, but he was never like that at all, even when I was paranoid and pushed him away because I feared he WAS. He was also very touchy with me, as I already explained, and a lot of it adds up to me now as courting behaviors, and I do fully think thay if he were misce he'd almost certainly identify as an alpha.

But, anyway- looking back, there was a point in time when I started realizing that this guy probably was flirting with me- it didn't FULLY hit me until years later though, and when I first started suspecting it, it was more like a vague feeling that I couldn't fully confirm. It was actually a specific instance/situation that happened between me and him that finally clued me in and made me consider the possibility, and this instance is what I actually tend to think probably triggered my first heat too, so I'll talk briefly about that, but I also need to give some context of what had happened before;

It was some time around or just before the winter/christmas holidays, one of the last days of school before break, when we went to like, an art gallery or something similar- neither of us wanted to attend the church service since neither of us considered ourselves believers of the christian faith most common here anyway, AND it was a LOT more fun to look at some pop art than to sit in a church listening to some guy talk about jesus and whatnot. I had actually heard he woulf be going to the gallery so to some degree, I had planned to confront him there- I also figured that there would likely be some group/pair exercises, so I was able to use that opportunity to spend a bit of time around him and engage in some playful banter and joking around just like we had been, before I'd unintentionally given him the coldest death-glare fuelled by a lack of caffeine known to man. At first, he came across as really nervous and flighty, but I made sure to just be casual and joke around normally, to try and show him that he didn't need to fear interacting with me- I still don't know why it had been so upsetting to him at the time to be honest- maybe he was scared I was rejecting him or something- and why he had put so much energy in avoiding me, but honestly, seeing him relax slowly and realize that I truly had not meant to make him think I'd suddenly started hating his guts when I'd just woken up grumpy that day, and that there was no need to avoid me like that, considering I was treating him completely normally, if not even more friendly than before.

He avoided me for months. Even when we HAD TO share a class or were hanging out with the same friends (who in hindsight must've been going insane just watching this dumb af back-and-forth of me being oblivious and the guy being obvious). It actually genuinely confused me- I only figured later on what had caused it (my glare), and when I did, I started to try and look for ways to show him that I didn't hate him nor was I mad or upset at him, but he would quite literally slip away at the first possible chance, so I never was able to talk to him one-on-one enough, until a month or two at least had passed.

Anyway, after the art gallery tour ended, we were standing in the lobby of the building it was hosted in, chatting a bit, since I had finally been able to talk to him and things seemed to be back to normal. We had obviously missed on a month's worth of hanging out and chatting at school, after all, so I imagine the both of us were really relieved and happy to have things be alright again.

Now, Back then, I was in a strange quirky tumblr-influenced half-emo half-pop-punk phase where I would incorporate stuff from other styles and aesthetics kind of randomly as I saw fit, and at that specific time, I'd been really into steampunk-y stuff, and had taken to wearing these steampunk goggles I'd bought at some point either as a headband, or more commonly, around my neck, like a necklace, because I was 16-17ish and thought it was Cool And Different™ (year was like, 2015/2016? I think?) And I was having a very weird phase back then anyway... Well, he notices the goggles and comments on them and asks if he can take a closer look at said goggles, I say, oh sure yeah!, fully expecting him to wait for me to take them off and hand them to him to look, since, you know, at that age I was EMBARRASSINGLY oblivious, and genuinely thought he was actually interested in looking at the goggles (this one goes out for all the autistic friends I have who keep telling me I'm autistic. Maybe you're right.(/hj))

Instead, he grabs the goggles and pulls ME closer. By the neck. Not like, in a way that chokes me or hurt me in any way, more like a gentle tug- the goggles had an elastic band, so it was more like a slight tugging sensation at the back of my neck that made me take a step forwards and lean in- plus, he did it slowly enough that it wasn't like a sudden yank but more like a gentle, persistent tug. I could have very easily pulled back and told him I'd take them off so he could look, but honestly, I was a bit too mesmerized and didn't actually WANT to step away anyway. Yeah, it's cliché as hell now that I think about it- It's like a fanfic trope come to life, yknow, like pulling someone closer by their tie or whatever? But somehow real life. I was so surprised in the moment- not unpleasantly, but just, completely DID NOT expect to suddenly be barely a few inches away from his face (if that!) all of a sudden so I just completely freeze in place, confused and just baffled at the situation. In that moment I felt a lot of mixed feelings and signals, none bad, just very confused, because to ME it was very sudden and unexpected considering my utter obliviousness to all the previous moves he'd made on me. I think that was the point when I finally started suspecting that maaaaybe he had been flirting with me- or at least trying to test the waters with me, so to speak- this whole time (and even so, was in denial for years afterwards lmao- to this day I wonder if maybe I'm just reading into it too much and he honestly WAS just a dude being a bro and actually interested in the goggles after all). Honestly, to him, I must've looked truly ridiculous, wide-eyed, shocked/surprised expression, kinda frozen in place and not knowing what to do, and DEFINITELY blushing.

And to be honest my memory of the moment isn't the clearest because I was well and truly frozen like a deer in the headlights. All I remember is how the surprise felt like a bucket of ice water being poured over me because I didn't even dare to breathe at first, frozen in place and not knowing what to expect, and then melting really fast because I started feeling very dizzy and warm when my brain caught on (I imagine the realization made me blush, and that would have been the feeling of warmth or 'melting' as I put it). He DEFINITELY stayed like that way longer than necessary, just gently 'looking at the goggles' as though they were the most interesting object in the world- or, again, maybe they were, and I just FELT like the moment went on forever.

Anyway, nowadays, when I think of my life with the context of my misce identity, I tend to feel that this was the thing that triggered my first heat, because I remember that on our walk back to school, I'd started feeling strangely hot, sweaty and shaky, like, literally trembling afterwards- I felt hazy, almost feverish, and couldn't stop thinking about that moment at all (I think I explained what happened to an IRL friend and they just stared at me in confusion, like, "okay and???" As if it was not a big deal at all). Our school day was a lot shorter that day, because it was around the holidays, and I was so utterly confused about everything that the rest of the day is a complete blur to me, I barely remember getting a happy holidays type card from this other person who had kind of been pursuing me (which is an entirely different story) and some presents from friends. Iirc, I basically bolted home from school at the first opportunity, though iirc the guy (the one this whole thing has been about) also left me a card of some kind, but honestly at that point I was way too mushy-brained to retain many memories. I don't really even remember what happened when I got back home, but knowing me, and how I am when in heat, I can make a few educated guesses which I won't share.

Anyhow, I tend to think of that day as the day I'd had my first "heat" as an omega, because I remember feeling really warm, shaky, and just, all kinds of feelings. Honestly, at the time, I wasn't sure of my own feelings for him because I was just kind of confused about everything and still figuring it all out- I was a bit of a late bloomer when it came to romance, anyway, but looking back, I'm pretty damn sure I'd had a crush on him for quite a while as well, otherwise I wouldn't have been so sad and disappointed that he started avoiding me after I glared at him, and definitely would not have been so shocked and reacted so strongly to that situation in the art gallery lobby. I recall feeling like he had me under some sort of spell, honestly, which is kind of silly thinking back- but if he had pulled me any closer or, gods forbid, kissed me for example, I think my knees would've ACTUALLY given in right there. I wasn't far from it to begin with.

So the neck thing- I think, it started because someone I would classify/headcanon as an alpha (in omegaverse terms, not the, 'alpha male' kind, DUH), whom I was interested in, and who seemed to clearly be interested in me, kept finding excuses to touch my neck. It was always sensitive, and I could feel the touch sort of linger for a long time, days, at times. And after that incident, my neck has always been hypersensitive, ESPECIALLY during heats. It's actually to the point that if a partner touches me in a similar (romantic/sexual) way, my knees just go kind of weak immediately, and I feel dizzy, because it's overwhelming to me. Maybe it's because necks are vulnerable and sensitive, but for me it's specifically the back and sides of my neck that are the MOST sensitive, not necessarily the region of my windpipe/etc. Similarly, when it's a person I have no interest in who is touching me, I tense up, instead of "freezing and then melting" which is how I felt on That Day. It's a pretty strong signal to my brain that I should probably become pliant and relaxed and obedient, as well as a "hey maybe I should be getting aroused about this?" Brain-thing, BUT if it's coming from someone I don't see as a potential partner but who seems to have romantic or sexual intent regardless, it feels more like an attempt at dominating or controlling me, which causes some anxiety.

As an afterthought, I wanna add that there are close friends I have who could touch my neck and I wouldn't mind at all- either they're so close platonically that I'm fully okay with it, or I'm 110% confident there is absolutely ZERO sexual intent behind their actions. If anything, I'd probably just relax and feel drowsy, more than anything, if touched like that.

Basically, this instance has shaped a big part of my headcanons on scruffing, dynamic presenting, heats and heat triggers, and much more. I don't think that this random guy I haven't talked to in almost a decade actually made me "awaken as an omega" as some versions of omegaverse put it, but I do think that during that fall I was starting to present anyway, and the things he did (touching my neck, petting my hair, etc) affected things that trigger my heats because of the emotional/psychological associations. I think that I would have presented anyway, and had a first 'heat' around that time anyway, but I think my crush on him and his constant touchy-feely-ness definitely sped up the process.

It's kind of a shame that this was the closest we ever got, in a way- back then I was still in contact with a very abusive person who basically forbade me from interacting with other people almost entirely, and it was one of the biggest reasons I was so shy and hesitant around this guy, even when I wanted to reciprocate somehow. It's such a shame because I haven't ever really felt a similar kind of pull towards anyone else after that, the relationships I've been in since have all started because someone else had been interested in me first and approached and courted me, and I'd ended up slowly getting attached and becoming fond of them. Not that that's a bad way to get into a relationship when it works out- I mean more that there's never really been a similar feeling of complete breathlessness and being flustered and mesmerized the same way this guy was able to make me feel by just gently pulling at my neck a little. Other people have certainly tried, and most exes are aware my neck is a very sensitive spot for me, but it's never affected me quite so strongly since this guy back in High School. Maybe it's just because I was young and clueless and far more easily affected by flirting and such, sure- it's just a bit, I don't know, sad? I guess, since it never really went anywhere with that guy. We grew apart, and never ended up getting closer, and I've never had the chance to let him know I was interested in him the whole time, nor explain the actual situation with the glare I gave him and why it must've seemed so out-of-nowhere (when the truth was I'd just had the shittiest morning imaginable to my teenage self). I did follow him on a social media app with my personal profile some time ago recently though, and he followed me back, so maybe one day we'll reconnect properly, but who knows. It's pretty cliché and I don't actually hold out any hope that the same person who had me weak in the knees in high school would be similarly magnetic to me now that I'm an actual adult, nearly a decade older than I was back then- it's more like, I just have a few regrets, and wish I'd said something back then? But most of all, I hope I can experience a similar kind of attraction again some day, regardless of who it is for. A crush like that, when the other person is also giving signals, is very magical, and the smallest things feel super flustering. It's even better when the other person is a genuinely good person, like he was. Definitely leagues above the trash I was settling for back then because I had zero self-confidence and thought that nobody who actually treated me kindly and with respect would ever truly love me.

Actually, I could honestly talk about that guy for quite a long while, since I have a lot of fond memories of him, and high school in general, but I'd end up going on for even longer, and my main point was to just tell the story of the time I started 'presenting' as an omega (though I didn't know that's what it was until much later), and what I consider to be my first actual heat, as well as talk about the fact that my neck is extremely sensitive and it's always been kind of amusing to me since it's a VERY omega thing.

To the guy I'm talking about, if you somehow find this and thus my blog, firstly, I'm sorry THIS is how you (most likely) find out that I actually had a crush on you the whole time and SECONDLY, I am so sorry you now have to know I'm into some (relatively) weird things. Dm me?

Oh and to anyone who is NOT that guy but recognizes this story and now knows who I am, you didn't see SHIT. Look away, bitch, erase this from your brain, none of your business.

Uhm. Anyway, I wanted to add a bit more about the neck sensitivity, since it's the source of my headcanons for how omegas in general would have very sensitive necks (which is one reason for why some choose to wear collars or chokers or other similar accessories, as a way to feel more "protected" or "covered up")

I ended up discovering a lot of these things later on as an adult, in other relationships I had, but.

Most of my neck is very sensitive. The front (throat) has some spots, but the most noticeably erogenous areas are the sides of my neck, the spots right below my ears and jawbone, and the back of my neck from where my back connects to my neck, all the way up to the base of my skull. The types of touch that tend to get the strongest responses out of me are usually the, someone placing their hand on the back of my neck gently but like, firmly enough to make me aware of it, especially if they're using that to guide me around etc. It feels like a subtle physical "sign of claiming/courting someone", or a signal of intending to do so.

General Headcanons;

Since I tend to imagine bonding bites would be on the back of the neck (muscles, less vessels and delicate structures to injure, etc), it's a sort of headcanon that touching that region in general is a pretty flirtatious/strong signal of intended courtship when done to an omega. It's not necessarily only a courtship/flirtation thing, it could also be a sort of equivalent to scruffing, an action that feels reassuring and causes the omega to subconsciously relax and become calm and agreeable IF done by someone they trust (friend or partner or family, etc). I imagine that some alphas and betas also do it to their omega partners in public on occasion to show to others who might seem interested in the omega, that the omega is already being "courted" or "claimed" (especially when no bonding/mating bites are visible or present for whatever reason). Since the action of placing a hand on the back of an omega's neck is basically covering their scent glands, it has a similar message as kissing your partner some stranger has been oogling, just to let them know they're "not available". I tend to headcanonize that it's seen as rude and intrusive to do it to omegas you do NOT know well, for example first dates, one-night-stands, or people you've just started getting to know, and people who do that before there's been any signals of interest or even courtship are, in many cultures, seen as the asshole type who is just trying to get into the pants of any omega they see. It's not quite a form of PDA, more like a social cue that expresses both interest and intent to the omega without being overly obvious or intimate, as well as gives some "hey back off" type vibes to other people. I imagine this works with betas and alphas too, to some extent, but when done to any other dynamic it's generally seen more as a protective or friendly gesture, instead of one that expresses romantic/sexual interest in any way, since my headcanon is that omegas in general have the most sensitive necks out of any dynamic.

[volivolition]

[guy with chronic pain voice] i should draw pain threshold

[cannibalistic-suggestions]

Passion and suffering. Pleasure and pain. Can't have one without the other. I can't imagine them being separate. That's how its always been for me. If I felt one I would surely feel the other, in what some would call "unfortunate," and what some would call "perversion."

I feel everything so deeply, intensely. My emotions are too "extreme." Surely this must be my punishment for that. My inability to moderate my obsessions just made me get used to the agony that accompanied it. The lows turned into highs and when I crashed it'd all start over again, a cycle.

I thought that with you I would finally be content. Your sweet sunshine self that pierced through the storm clouds that invaded my psyche, your comforting presence accompanied by that fragrant flower scent, intoxicating, that I would gladly drown in. I loved your gentle dazed eyes, like melting candies. Everything about you, I thought it would satisfy me, finally keep me happy. That's why I had to have you, more than just clinging by my side. But maybe that was the storm coming in, showering my brain in false excitement to receive the resounding thunder of an intense thought with joy.

Was looking forward to it. But something's missing, and I can't understand why. What went wrong? Saudade turns sour in my mouth: sickening, debilitating, like I'd throw up. Oh, that would be in vain. I must brave through this melancholy without a medicine, though my suffering isn't noble like a martyr's. It's tainted—sin—because I'm the one who poisoned myself looking for a cure to my "addiction."

I passed my lips over your skin, both when it was dead and still alive. Chewing. Sucking. Tearing, grazing. Ripping, swallowing. Filaments thinner than a delicate flower petal's width tantalize my tastebuds like honey with an added spice. Flakes dissolve on my tongue just as the powder of your dandruff does. Your nails click against my teeth, one of the few sounds I remember after you, a garden buzzing with life, went silent. After a crop pest's ravage, it was to be expected, but I had told myself I did it because I loved you, suffocating you in a swarm of my affections. And when the clouds cleared, there was nothing that remained, not even bone.

Indulging in pleasures of the flesh. I wanted to find pleasure in your flesh, even while you were in agony, in your last moments. Your tears had been like sweet nectar and I needed more. I ate it all up, but it wasn't appetizing enough. There was almost guilt—who was I to act like a petulant child, whining for dessert and then barely even finishing it when it was actually awarded to me? I don't know what's wrong with me. Or maybe I do, but to admit it would be ritual suicide. Why couldn't I just savor it, enjoy it, take it and be done with it. I had wanted it, no? I thought it'd make me happy; well, why hasn't it?

why is it not enough?

[tenrose]

Now that I gave my family their Christmas gifts, I can now enter a bookstore and gift myself (very generously) 🤗

[pathologicalreid]

wavelength | s.r.

in which your son ends up in the hospital on one of the BAUs busiest nights of the year

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: child in hospital with unnamed illness, seizures, pregnant!reader, boy dad!spencer, MRIs, head injury word count: 1.96k a/n: this is my little reid family from three's a family, but as usual, you don't have to read that one to understand this one. (it's one of the cryptic pregnancy ones so maybe keep that in mind lmao) - welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda, i missed it

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your thumbs enough to press the call button, tapping the green icon, you press your phone to your ear, listening to the rings as you keep your other hand on the bed in front of you.

Sniffling, Leo holds your hand in his much smaller one, “Mama?” His voice is little more than a whine, and you find yourself wishing he’d fall asleep while you wait for his turn in radiology.

“Yeah, lovey?” You whisper, squeezing his fingers gently as he looks at you with sad eyes.

His eyes were sad in a way that only a three-year-old’s could be, not quite understanding why he had to stay in the hospital, and continuously asking for his parents. “I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, his voice soft as he shifts on his side in the hospital bed.

Your shoulders slouch ever so slightly, trying not to show him how much of his displeasure you shared, “I know. I’m so sorry.” They were holding off on giving him more medication, but it just made him miserable.

Starting to wonder if they could just give him something to help him rest, you distantly hear your name being called, taking a moment to be confused before you remember that you called Spencer.

“Hey,” you greet a little breathlessly, “Are you working?” You move your hand, smoothing back Leo’s hair in an attempt to coax him to sleep.

You hear a shuffling of papers on the other end of the call, answering your question well enough before he responds verbally, “We’re just trying to finish a few things up before calling it a night.”

Bowing your head, you sigh, “Right, you have that senate review next week.”

Spencer groans at the reminder of the meeting, “And finding some of these files is proving to be difficult. I think Garcia’s just about had it, but we’re all starting to get to that point. Why the call? Not that I’m unhappy to hear your voice,” he clarifies. “Did Leo get to sleep alright?”

You falter slightly knowing that Spencer is already stressing about work, “Honey,” you start softly, “Leo’s alright, but I had to call an ambulance for him about an hour ago.”

“What happened? You said he’s alright?” He asks, fear changing the pitch of his voice.

Swallowing thickly, you watch Leo continue to fight sleep, his brown eyes watching you while you’re on the phone. “They think he had a seizure,” you whisper, keeping your voice down so that your son doesn’t catch onto your anxiety.

There’s a shuffle of papers on the other end, “Is he sick? Was it a febrile seizure?”

“Uh, no, hold on,” you flip through the pamphlet, “They called it a drop seizure when we were in the emergency room, and they did an EEG.” You explain, reading over the papers in front of you for the nth time.

Spencer talks to someone else in the room, hopefully letting them know that he has to leave, “What happened?”

Tears prick your eyes, and you look up into the fluorescent light to will them away, “I was just getting him ready for bed, and he went to go potty, and he just fell. He hit his head on the tub and I just… I panicked,” you admit the last part. “I was not very collected, and the 911 operator knew that,” you tell him, watching Leo’s eyes finally fall shut.

“I wouldn’t have been either,” Spencer assures you, “What hospital did they bring you to?”

Rattling off the name of the hospital, you risk assuming that Leo’s asleep enough for you to step back, enabling you to speak at a higher volume, “Can you leave work?” You weren’t even thinking about how busy the BAU was when you called, you were just thinking about getting Leo his dad. “They want to do an MRI, and he’s allowed to have someone in there with him, so he doesn’t get scared,” you explain.

“But you can’t,” Spencer needlessly reminds you.

A huff of frustration escapes your lips as you look down, eyes focusing on where your shirt catches on the soft swell of your lower belly. “No, I can’t,” you say miserably.

A nurse walks through the door, sparing a pitying glance at you, the pregnant mom whose toddler was in the PICU, before checking on Leo’s vitals. Spencer clears his throat, “I’m already on my way.”

You lose track of time, sitting in the reclining chair that lives in the corner of the PICU room, and memories of Leo’s first month of life start to flash in front of your eyes. He was a thirty-two-weeker, and he spent twenty-nine days in the NICU before coming home for the first time.

You felt like a failure then, and you feel like a failure now.

Tapping your fingers on your belly, you watch Leo sleep, his body curled up on the hospital bed and collodion stuck to his forehead. You remember finding out you were pregnant again, the overwhelming joy that mixed with the stunned fear like oil and water—Spencer had to remind you to breathe.

Something caught your attention, a small, high-pitched beep from one of Leo’s monitors sent a group of people flying into the room, standing around your son and listing off things that your fear-addled brain couldn’t comprehend.

He’s there when you stand up, Spencer stays at your side for all twenty-one seconds of Leo’s second seizure, watching as strength returns to his tiny body and his eyes open, “Mama?” His small voice calls out for you, afraid of being surrounded by doctors and nurses that he doesn’t know.

Slipping away from Spencer, you make your way back to the hospital bed, hovering over your son as you cup his cheeks affectionately, “I’m here, baby.” Hiding your face to wipe tears away, your fear that he still feels ill is only exacerbated by the fact that he doesn’t insist that he’s not a baby—he’ll always be yours, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let him see past you, the way his eyes light up at the sight of his father, “Daddy!” He chirps, trying to reach out for Spencer.

“Hey, buddy,” Spencer says, his voice tight while he crouches in front of Leo, “Mama says you don’t feel good.”

Leo shakes his head, “I hit my head,” he recounts mournfully, “then we had to go in the loud car.”

Your husband frowns for a moment before he realizes Leo’s talking about the ambulance, “Did they tell you I get to go with you to get your tests done?” He warps the narrative to make the MRI seem like a fun activity—something they get to do.

“Can mama go?” Leo asks, tilting his head to the side slightly, leaning into you as he does so.

Gently, you wrap an arm around him, dressed in a pediatric hospital gown with all kinds of wires and electrodes attached to him. “Mama has to stay up here,” Spencer breaks the news to him, sparing you a sympathetic glance, “but she’ll be here when we get back. Then, we can tell her and the baby all about it.”

The baby won’t be able to hear outside voices until you’re much further along, but when Spencer tried to explain that to your toddler, the only response he’d gotten was Why?

As it turns out, even Spencer Reid has a limit to the number of questions he can answer, so you let Leo talk to the baby. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” you reassure Leo, taking a shaky breath when he wraps his arms around you.

He’s in tears by the time they come to get him, only willing to go to radiology if they let his daddy carry him there.

You’ve let go of the hope that this was all just a freak incident, but the looks that the nurses have started exchanging squashed that optimism immediately. Taking the opportunity to lie on the hospital bed, you try to reassure yourself—if Spencer didn’t seem worried, you shouldn’t be worried.

Though Spencer wouldn’t show his concern to you, he certainly wouldn’t do it with Leo in the room.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by something being set on your side, your eyes cracking open just enough to watch Spencer lay Leo down on the bed next to you. “Hey,” Spencer whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I was trying not to wake you up.”

Cringing at the brightness of the room, you watch Leo as he curls into your side, “How did he do?”

“He was great,” Spencer says, gently ruffling the sleeping boy’s hair. “He fell asleep about halfway through,” he informs you, carefully pulling a chair up to the bedside.

You hum, making sure Leo is snug in his blanket before turning back to Spencer, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.”

Spencer shakes his head dismissively, “It’s okay,” he whispers, mindful of the hour—it’s nearing midnight now.

Reaching a hand up to cover your mouth, you hiccup a sob, “I’m a bad mom.”

“You are not a bad mom,” Spencer responds quickly, peeling your hand from your mouth and taking it in his hand.

Your lower lip quivers, “This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been born so early.”

Spencer’s face softens, squeezing your hand comfortingly, “That wasn’t your fault. That was a situation that you didn’t have any control over.”

Deep down, you know he’s right, but your mom guilt that was on the surface level made the truth hard to see. “I couldn’t even hold his hand while he got an MRI,” you cry, small tears falling from your eyes.

“Honey,” Spencer murmurs, carefully wiping the tears from your cheeks, “You’re pregnant. Even more, you’re high risk,” Spencer reminds you as if it’s something you’re soon to forget. “There’s no way I would’ve let you in that room. You can blame that on me if you’d like.”

Leo shifts next to you, garnering your attention for just a moment before you turn back to Spencer, “I thought an MRI was better for pregnant women.”

Sighing, Spencer looks at you fondly, “Compared to a CT, an MRI is the better option if it’s medically necessary. Logically, I’m well aware of this, but I do find myself more protective over you these days,” he admits, eyes flickering down to your bump.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I should’ve been watching him before he hit his head.”

Your husband dismisses your concern immediately, “We’ve been teaching him privacy, he’s proud that he gets to go potty on his own.”

“Why won’t you let me feel guilty?” You ask, frowning at him.

He hums in response, “Because you aren’t guilty. Your baby is in the hospital, and you might have some unresolved issues from when he was in the NICU.” He takes a deep breath, “and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re tired, and you have a lot of conflicting emotions and hormones that you’re struggling with.”

Leaning your head back on the pillow, you sigh loudly, “You know me too well.”

“I also know that our son loves you, and what happened tonight was not your fault,” he reiterates. “Whatever is going on with him, we’ll figure it out, okay? The four of us are going to be just fine.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nod in understanding and listen to the soft whistle of Leo’s nose as he exhales. “We’ll be just fine,” you echo, intertwining your fingers with Spencer’s and preparing yourself for what’s bound to be a long night.

[bingusbongusminghiskinghis]

Dang I look fucking horrific holy shit

[wwwdotjesterdotcom]

Reposting this for shits and giggles bc I don't expect asks about this lol. But I'll answer some in the tags

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

yesterday I was Percieved

[finelythreadedsky]

6th century bce archaic greece dashboard simulator

📜 oracles-onomakritos Follow

guys you have GOT to stop sticking in extra aristeias for your faves, the iliad is getting TOO LONG

⚔️ argivehero1184 Follow

nope lmao check out my guy diomedes he stabbed aphrodite!!!

📜 oracles-onomakritos Follow

look do you want anyone to even be able to perform this whole thing bc i know rhapsodes are impressive but their memories can only go so far

#parahomerica #i spend so much time on this and is anyone remotely grateful?

76 notes

🌠 thalesmilesios Follow

it’s going to be so crazy next month when it gets dark in the middle of the day, the medes are going to have no idea what hit them

🏛️ anaxagoraintheagora Follow

lol like that would ever happen! you’d have to piss off apollo even more than agamemnon did

🏛️ anaxagoraintheagora Follow

i stand corrected.

#ok headed down to didyma to make some offerings now #ngl this has me pretty freaked out

7,264 notes

🌸 iokolpos Follow

poem for atthis 💔

like a hyacinth on the mountains the shepherds tread upon her underfoot and on the ground a purple flower

Keep reading

💐 poikilothronanaktoria Follow

sappho dm me please i won't leave you like she did

247,383 notes

💩 iambicpharmakos Follow

wealth is such a dick, he never comes to my place to go hey hipponax here’s thirty minas of silver, and some extra too! what, is he scared?

11 notes

🏺 exekias-epoiese Follow

sneak peek of my new work! process video will be up soon, and remember I am currently open for commissions!

#ajax 😭😭😭#wanted to challenge myself with the hands and i think they turned out ok #the armor was much more fun though #art tag

693,554 notes

👹 assemblerofchoruses Follow

when you think about it... maybe helen's right when she blames herself for the trojan war? she chose to run away with paris and then so many people died because of it, she even says herself that she was a shameless dog

👹 assemblerofchoruses Follow

helen if your reading this i didmt meanit im so sorry

#i cant see anythignwhat is going on

187 notes

🍃 nikostratethepythagorean Follow

that hippokleides guy is such an icon. siege of tyre? hippokleides don't care! persian invasion? hippokleides don't care! fall of babylon? hippokleides don't care! peisistratus back in athens? hippokleides don't care!

#trying to bring this energy to the new olympiad #niko speaks

326 notes

🫒 notthatmegacles Follow

and don't just automatically vote for your tribe!

💐 poikilothronanaktoria Follow

um who even are any of these guys

🫒 notthatmegacles Follow

dude they're the patron heroes for the ten new tribes, have you been living under a rock????

💐 poikilothronanaktoria Follow

believe it or not i’m one of the dozens of people worldwide that live in a polis that’s not athens

#smh #lesbian problems

28,724 notes