#not a man but also not a woman either to me that’s all I know

[headspace-hotel]

This year has, so far, been for me a series of rapid realizations of what I have been unlearning.

I went to the library. This was a couple weeks ago. I knew I needed to read a book, fiction. I hadn't done so in over a year and it was the longest period of time I had ever gone without doing so. I made a rule: I would only pick books I had never heard of, by authors I had never heard of, and I would not do any preliminary research or even bother to look at what the book was about. I would make my decision on whether to read or not purely on my impression of the title, cover and opening lines.

The book was The Connoisseur by Evan S. Connell. It was kind of a random selection. I sat down with it in a corner of the library and straight up devoured it. I tore through the book within a few hours, without taking a single break. I was captivated. I couldn't put it down.

It is a book about a guy who buys a Mayan figurine in a knickknack shop while he's on a business trip. and becomes obsessed with pre-Columbian sculptural art. There isn't really much of a plot apart from this. He goes to sketchy antique shows, has conversations with museum curators, wealthy art dealers and forgers, and seeks to learn how to distinguish a genuine pre-Columbian piece from a fake one. It was written in the 1970's, so the views on Native Americans are antiquated and sometimes offensive, and there is the troubling thread of the very concept of looting another culture's treasures and treating them as collectibles, though the book is not without commentary on this.

All the same, it was a completely intoxicating read. The vicarious experience of becoming fascinated with a topic and having it unfold a whole world for you was ferociously gripping, and so was the intrigue of the art collecting world itself. The frauds, forgeries, smuggling, museums, academics, aristocrats, auctions and seedy flea markets. Will he ever be able to tell if a piece is "real?" Does it matter if it's "real?" Why does he want to own and possess a piece of art, and how does its "realness" affect that desire? The book leaves you not knowing what to think.

It is a book about curiosity, portrayed in the narrative as a totally unreasonable lightning bolt that strikes a man who has never been fascinated by anything and changes him forever. Why? Why does a Mayan figurine, in particular, speak to him? Why does any piece of art, or any fascinating thing in the world, speak to anyone? It is unknowable.

I went to the library again. I picked a new book using the same rules. This book was Fragile Beasts by Tawni O'Dell. Just like the last time, I was totally captivated. I couldn't put it down.

Did I have a couple major problems with the portrayal of some important aspects of the story? Yes. (It would make the post much longer to discuss.) Was I completely captured by and invested in the story for the time I was reading it? Also yes. The book braids together several very different strands-- the story of a legendary Spanish bullfighter and a wealthy American woman that he loved, two brothers stuck in an ugly family situation after their father's death in a car accident, and a rich old heir to a Pennsylvania coal mining fortune and to the sinister underbelly of her family's business.

There was a lot about baseball, which I know nothing about, and bullfighting, which I know nothing about, and I certainly don't know anything about being a teenaged boy who resents and mistrusts his estranged mother, or an aristocratic old lady who lives in a mansion and eats fancy Spanish food. It was fun to experience so much unfamiliar stuff and to care about things I wouldn't normally care about. Once again I couldn't stop reading until I had finished it.

I don't know that either book was "good," though I thought they were both well written; I just know that reading them was like being hooked up to an IV of something essential and life-giving and feeling it reanimating my body.

It had been a year since I had read any fiction, but it had been much, much longer since I had loved to read. As I became an adult I had become picky and critical about books, and developed a highly sophisticated sense of my taste and the books I considered good- which were very rare. My taste in books became so sophisticated, eventually, that I didn't like books at all anymore.

I had almost withered away from deficiency of that essential nutrient known as STORY. I'd almost crumbled myself into dust from pretentiousness! I may have been terribly wrong about the kinds of things I liked to read, on top of it. And I certainly hadn't realized that story was such an essential nutrient.

"Just entertainment" the pretentious sorts of people might say of a book they think is useless-- but what is entertainment but to absorb your mind in something, and what is absorbing your mind in a book but to experience things you would never have experienced? It expands you and makes you more complicated. It is the study of human existence itself.

Now all I have been able to think about today is finishing my work and going to the library again...

[gangstalkerbarbie]

Yes, you don't owe anyone your time and intimacy. These things are freely given to people whose company you enjoy. They're not a reward for performing the mechanical actions of courtship correctly, they're a logical consequence of two people mutually liking one another on a profound human level. Courtship is a game between two people who already like each other, and the thing is that there is no reward, the reward is getting to spend socially sanctioned time together that could lead into nesting and raising children. The win condition of dating is a pair bond capable of weathering life and maybe sustaining childrearing, which for most people involves sex because it's fun, bonding and is what leads to children. The win condition of dating is not mechanical sex for mechanical sex's own sake.

The thing that progresses dating into greater seriousness is therefore also not a kiss, not a handy, nothing — you can do all of that with whoever you're dating, I don't care, but call me a boomer idk, the period of time that you're in love is supposed to be safe and fun for both parties. The progression of a relationship is about trust, which dies instantly the second dating is no longer both fun and safe.

If feeling safe and having fun does not, in your heart of hearts, include being alone together or handies or head for you (and let's be honest with ourselves, it often doesn't, no one really thinks these kinds of risks to her reputation and human value are fun and safe; when girls engage in these behaviours it's because they live in a bizarro world where for some reason horny boys are allowed to set the rules of mate choice and girls are taught to value being wanted above anything else), that should be respected. If it isn't, stop dating this person.

Lack of willingness to respect women's nonconsent (and telling you not to be a prude is, in fact, disrespect) leads to rape, which used to often lead to children out of wedlock whose lives were doomed to be miserable, which is why so many patriarchal cultures wrote not being in private with unwed women into ritual or customary law and usually tied in metaphysics.

Even back then, people knew that rape can be a profound sociological trauma with very far-reaching consequences and wanted to keep their children from experiencing it, and their grandchildren from living whatever life these circumstances gave them. Not everyone alive in a prevailing social climate agrees with it, but they do all know what the consequences are for acting like it doesn't exist.

And after marriage too, you may not always have the right to say no, but on principle you deserve it just by existing as a human being. No still means no even with a ring on it.

I would (and I have) stop talking to a guy even at the implication of any entitlement to sex; in my culture it's normal to be a virgin until 24 or older nowadays, because marriage is a very long commitment, and sex is always a risk for the woman, and no shit she has the right to discretion. If he wants to gently try to wheedle or pressure you into sex while you're still reasonably in the public eye as a distinct person now, imagine what he'll do when you're married, you're in private together with no witnesses all the time, and his grandma thinks he's entitled to it!

He's not entitled to fuck or damn, but marital rape is much harder to get any recourse for than rape, comma, vanilla (which itself is the farthest thing from a picnic), and not everyone who blogs on the internet has a right to no-fault divorce. Universally applicable advice: either the man you're with is capable of understanding that no means no, or you just don't get into that position with him to begin with. If he has bad vibes, don't give him a chance, leave. If he says or does some weird shit, don't give him the benefit of the doubt, leave. You are always morally in the right for leaving and telling everyone about why.

There may be very little you can do once you're too far in — I'm not saying you shouldn't have the right to leave a bad marriage, I'm saying a lot of people wake up one day to find they don't — so if at all you can choose whether you end up in that position, do everything in your power not to.

There should, also, in principle be standards you should be able to hold men to. Leave if they refuse to be held to standards; they do believe in standards even if they claim not to, just standards only for you. You want the guys that believe sincerely in standards for everyone that you also believe in.

They will be hard to find because their path is thankless and often also considered to be cringe or even juvenile (because very young boys don't know they're supposed to want to hurt women yet, not wanting to hurt women is widely perceived as naive, feminine or infantile among men), but it's the only way to safely be heterosexual. If you need a man (I'm a lesbian but I have brothers I love who feel they need women, and I know full well that it is possible to feel you need a man), pick a good one.

You may be waiting until you're 30, even 40, but the good news is that gives you time to make nesting money and learn who you are, so, you know, different time periods, different priorities.

Secrets of the mothers of Israel or whatever, special for Tumblr: make good choices about your box and hold the men in your life to standards. Otherwise they will make up bad one-sided standards to hold you to and make your stupid box choices for you.

The social coercion women face to date people they’re not attracted to is fucking insane. I remember distinctly thinking “well, I can just force myself to be attracted to him…”

Films, books, etc, all show the trope of beautiful woman and unattractive man. There is still the myth that an unattractive man will treat you better than an attractive one (more women are waking up to this, but still). Even now the left thinks that activism happens between the legs of women.

Don’t date people you’re not attracted to. Don’t feel guilty for not giving them the time of day. No means no.

[winisayswhat]

💗You and your future spouse's 1st valentine's day date PAC💗

Disclaimer: This is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so🕊️

This reading a collab between me and this cutie @tarotbyjam24 💗

don't forget to check her account !

Pile 1 by @tarotbyjam24

Your first valentine's day date might possibly be a 50-50 date like you couples splitting your bills or it could be like you both are always so busy so it took effort from both sides to have a valentine's day date together finally. It's gonna be a very planned and calculated date . You guys might also not show your truest self to your spouse on this date because either of you or both can have your guards up even though you're married. I also feel on this date you could also fight with eachother 😭 probably because of hiding something. I see 'hide' word is so prominent here . I wonder how you guys are so mysterious to each other . Mostly I see you guys could be trying local street foods , trying drinks here n there. Although I feel you both will be dressed perfectly for a date to bring the date date vibe . Having drinks on this could help both of you to loosen up a bit and open up to each other . This date will be a start for something new probably you could think of starting family or something else . This pile seems like both of you love eachother but also don't show it and hide it very well that you both seem to each other like enemies ✨ that's all pile 1 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile 2 by @tarotbyjam24

Your first valentine's day date is gonna be amazing I swear . They'll make you feel like a prince\princess . Almost worshipping you and giving all the power . I also feel your spouse will be older than you . So ofc they gonna spoil you it's natural to them and you gonna enjoy it . They'll surely take you on various activities for this date like taking some fun classes in day , eating local foods , taking you on shopping, then dinner night at a perfect place probably by river or seaside . This date will grow more love between each other . I get the vibe of ' material girl ' from this pile and I support you for this lol . You go guys . You deserve it all . Now from another perspective if we see this than your spouse could be bit more domineering in this date like those ceo and their girlfriends where ceo likes to eat at three Michelin star hotel and you enjoy your ramen and drinks but you're forced to go on the three Michelin star hotel date lol. I feel you'll act like a disciplined kid when in real you're so spoiled 🍃 and you just don't listen to anyone but you'll have to listen and follow them .that's all pile 2 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile 3

Okay, babes, this date is going to be mind-blowing . Like, expect some serious sparks flying, and that's just not from the table. The man or woman you're going on a date with has a provider energy. It's like a very fancy place, with a fancy setup. This person is jacked for sure. They're serious and will bring lots of stability and maturity into your life. They're the real deal, honey .The Two of Cups is all about harmony and balance. So, expect some beautiful, heartfelt connections. You'll feel fulfilled. This place feels like a rooftop restaurant with dim lights, and you're drop-dead gorgeous . You're dressed up, drop-dead gorgeous that day. Oh la la, that person is going gaga all over you! They're very chivalrous. They're going to spend all their money on you without thinking twice. You'll feel luxurious, wealthy with them This person is a provider, wild, and dressed to impress . Both of you are excited to meet each other and already know you're the "it" deal. It's like you both were meant to be together, like two puzzle pieces . You both love, value, and cherish each other. It's like you both have manifested each other. The God has led you both to each other .This person is very straightforward, and whatever they say is going to be very real. They'll be honest with you, and you'll love that about them . They're the type of person who'll have many surprises in store. If they take you out for dinner, they'll make sure there's music, a big bouquet of roses, jewelry as gifts, your favorite champagne, food, and good photos to be clicked . Oh la la, this person is also a great photographer! Your Instagram feed is sorted ! Every time this person walks into a room, people look at them and go, "Oh my God, who is that?" They drip with money and luxury 💸. This person is going to be so nurturing and caring. Expect some serious TLC from this person, honey! It's going to be wild, but guess what? This is just the beginning. The journey is much more exciting and spicy! Don't forget to check out my valentine's tarot sale

Pile 4

The ambiance is romantic, probably at a favorite restaurant or spot. The air is filled with a sweet scent, and you both feel harmonious and in tune with each other. You're thinking about how lucky you are to be in this relationship!Conversation on the date is all bout goals, future plans, and excitement for what's to come. You both are magnetic, high-achieving individuals who are planning out your adrenaline-fueled life together! Eye contact is intense, and you both feel a deep sense of connection and understanding.This is a couple who will be the life of the party, so in love and into each other that they won't even notice what's going on around them! You're best friends, despite being different, and you complement each other perfectly.Don't forget to check out my valentine's tarot sale

[tactical-jellyfish]

Wisdom Teeth (drabble)

I've been mean to y'all. Too much angst. Take some fluff for the winter (me having a test this week)

Warnings!: Wisdom tooth removal. Bloody spit, at one point reader is in enough pain to verbally request an opioid pill. Pain and pain medication. Fluffy <3 prob leads up to poly, they're fruitcakes about it.

The SAS teams have had to pause ops for a wide, wide range of reasons. The odd health complication is very much among them.

That being said, Price never thought he would have to pause a mission because one of his star players got a wisdom tooth infected.

You had been off on Tuesday, chewing on only one side of your mouth and not drinking anything that was even a little hotter than room temp.

Kyle gave you funny looks for it, but that was all.

Wednesday, you didn't leave your room for much at all, but that was fine. Resting up before an op wasn't uncommon. Simon did it all the time.

However, at some point between you disappearing and Johnny saying he heard crying from your room all bets were off.

The door was kicked in, to reveal a grown sergeant, teary-eyed and crying a little as they clutched their cheek with a hand.

Kyle was already at your side, trying to coax you to open your mouth for some painkillers. It wasn't working well.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You cried a little before the surgery. Maybe out of nervousness, maybe out of pain, but the nice nurse was kind enough to ignore it as she explained that you would be waking up in a few hours down four whole teeth.

She explained it to you as you sat in the stupid fucking chair, she repeated it as she gently tucked a I.V. with a small blister containing medicine into the veins of your arm.

"Alright, first the anti-anxiety drug will be administered, okay?"

She doesn't wait for your confirmation, but gently pats your shoulder and continues.

"You should start to feel a bit fuzzy, then, you'll sleep."

It takes a few sickening seconds for you to actually feel the drugs kicking in. You want to get out of this chair, to scream at something.

You never liked the dentist.

But then... the world starts to fade out. It's like you're being locked out of your body as your mind turns itself off.

You hear her counting with the surgeon–a much more awkward woman, though no less polite.

Three.

Two.

On-

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The waking up is slow, and messy.

Cotton pads lie in either of your cheeks, and you can't do much but oblige as the nurse gently coaxes you into a wheelchair, giving instructions to the bearded man who's standing in the corner.

"Make sure they don't sleep for at least a couple hours, okay? I know it'll be hard, but try to have them keep pressure on the site."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Remember the usual course, and we're also giving you five opioid pills. Only in case it gets really bad."

"Affirmative."

You know this voice, but when you see the boonie hat and the slightly furrowed brows, a spark of muffled recognition fires off beneath the haze of anesthetic and misery.

"...Old man."

Your voice is slurred, foreign to even you at this point, but he seems to know it, because he sighs frustratedly before taking the chair by the handles and steering your down the hallway out.

"I swear to- mgh, olright. Better than Soap at least."

You're loaded into the back seat of the car with the most basic consideration.

Dumped in like a sack of flour, actually. Your butt hurts now, but there's Kyle.

He snorts when he sees you, reaches forward to wipe whatever is dripping from the corner of your mouth.

It's bloody spit, but he doesn't seem surprised.

The car ride back to base is quiet, but Kyle keeps you awake.

Beyond that, there's nothing you can remember. Not till the next morning.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny is perched at your bedside, scrolling through his phone until he sees your eyes blearily opening, hears your groaning as you recognize a new pain in your cheeks, and he gently coaxes your mouth open to take out the bloody gauze.

"Och, there ye are, bonnie wee thing. You look like an eejit, just thought ye needed to know."

Your tired glare is met with a laugh, but followed shortly by a pat to the shoulder.

"A'hm kiddin', leannan. Just jokin' with ye. Brought ye breakfast."

He holds up a small container of yogurt, shakes it like one would cat treats to entice a stray. You grimace as much as your painfully swollen cheeks allow, but when you open your mouth to tell him off, there's a sharp twinge that makes you close it.

This seems to earn Johnny's sympathies, because he gently guides you so you're sitting up on the bed, holding one of your shaky hands as he peels back the foil on the cup.

"Easy. Still fresh, aye?"

Your wet-eyed nod is met with a sympathetic huff.

"Aye. Dinnae fash. I'll help ye."

You should smack him for implying that you need help eating yogurt, of all things, but... you kind of do need the help.

Your body is still lethargic, sluggishly stumbling through its tasks with hazy edges and poor motor control.

He raises a glass of water to your lips, and has you take a few sips.

Breakfast takes a long time, but before you fall asleep again, he gently sets a painkiller in your mouth, and tells you to swallow.

When you do, he smiles, and bends down to kiss your forehead while you drift back off.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, here's something you didn't know before getting your wisdom teeth out.

You can't swallow for a couple days.

It's gross, yeah, but you're supposed to drool out the bloody spit in your mouth, so you don't get dry socket.

Thankfully, Kyle is there for this.

He sweeps your hair back as much as possible (to the point of getting bobby pins from the corner store for the baby hairs), and rubs your back as you drool out your toothpaste.

"I feel disgusting."

"I know, luv. You're not gonna feel good for a while."

Still, his mother's cure is the only thing he trusts himself enough to use on you. Warm, salty water. A childhood staple.

He's sympathetic to your plights, rubbing your back again as you clumsily swish it by turning your head to the sides, cheeks too swollen to move properly.

"Good job. One more."

A firm, warm hand pats your back again as you "spit" (if you can even call it that) for the final time, offering a sweet smile just for you.

"Perfect. Now you can lay back again, yeah? Nice n' easy."

You're not suffering like you were yesterday. It's new.

Your motor function is back, just sluggish.

No, no, your biggest issue right now is the swelling. Your cheeks were so puffy it hurt, and you had them on ice as often as you could.

This is where you have to thank the lord for John Price. Your captain, distant as he can be, must have at least three sets of cheek-size ice pads, because every time you come into your room, there's a new, fresh set waiting for you.

Kyle gently guides you to sit in your bed, offering a sympathetic smile as he eases you backward until you hit the pillow-ramp Johnny had built so your head would be upright.

"You wanna sleep, luv?"

"No."

Your voice is still quiet, limited by your stupid cheeks, but he smiles anyway, and sits next to you.

"You wanna hang out, then?"

"Yes."

The afternoon is good, for you.

Kyle is there. The whole time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of course, every surgery comes with the odd fuck-up.

No one should be up, but you're going insane with pain.

It's a sharp, stabbing thing, focused in the gum of your lower right jaw. Almost as sharp as the tooth's initial infection, but more than enough to bring significant distress.

Simon is an odd man, and you two have never been the closest, but when he opens your door in a t-shirt and boxers, you don't even care a little bit.

"Wha's happenin'?"

The Mancunian gruffs concernedly at you, watching as you hold your cheek and shakily take in vain breath in the hopes of calming yourself.

"Get an opioid, Lt. Please."

"Fawk."

Right after that, he's off like a horse to the races, and you're in the silence again, holding your cheek as you try to ignore the way your eyes swim with tears that you refuse to shed.

It's a mercifully short two minutes, even if it feels like half an hour.

Simon's hands are gentle, opening your jaw and setting the horse-pill on your tongue, looking into your wet eyes as he raises the glass to your lips.

"I know, I know. Jus' swallow."

He stays with you as you pant for the breath you've lost, wide, scarred hands on your shoulders.

He exaggerates his own breathing so you see the clear rise and fall of his chest. His lips lose their frown as you slowly start to mimic it.

The dispersal of the pain med is fast, thank goodness, but then Simon has a tired you to deal with, still trembling in the fingers from the sudden spike of debilitating pain, though you can't feel it.

"Are those skeleton boxers?"

He's starting to think your favorite pastime is asking stupid fucking questions, but still, some part of him feels relief.

You could have asked about the lack of mask, but you didn't. You just wanted to know about the halloween boxers.

"Sergeant."

His voice isn't as firm as it should be, but when he sees your exhausted look, he still sits down on the mattress with you.

"Stay. Jus' till I fall asleep."

You don't have the balls to ask for it. Not when you're this vulnerable. So you treat it like an order.

Simon won't be chewing you out for it.

Not now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyle and Johnny stand in the doorway to your room, snickering to themselves.

Never thought they would see big boy Lt with the firecracker that drove him up the wall, surely.

Still, after taking a couple pictures (blackmail for Johnny, photo album for Kyle), they just... stand and stare a little.

"Ye ken... we could jus'... join in?"

Johnny poses the question. Kyle nods.

"Yeah. To make sure they're sleeping well."

They both know damn well that's not why. But fuck it, a cuddle pile never hurt anyone.

Especially not you, considering how gentle the pair are when maneuvering your sleeping form.

If Simon opened his eyes and just so happened to see this buffoonery in action, he closed them right back up after.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Price sighs in exasperation when he sees it, but smiles as he tips down his cap just a little.

"Fuckin' rookie. Gonna be the death of me."

But he knows you won't. Because he sees the way Simon's lips curve up in sleep, or the way Johnny and Kyle cling to you.

He should call Laswell, finalize your placement.

The boys wouldn't complain.

[gothamite-rambler]

Batman and Jim faced a woman who has the flu, her boyfriend was on the floor crying with a knife in his thigh.

Liz: I have the flu, not that 'flu', but regular flu. I am not feeling well. I just wanted to have my broth and relax in bed until my flu went away. Then… that motherfucker!

Liz pointed to her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend who glared back at her.

Liz: Was like, "Let's cook together! Let's cook together!" Like a damn Muppet!

Kyle: I don't sound like Kermit the Frog!

Jim: Maybe don't keep talking.

Liz: Thank you! Anyways, he said if I went to the store to shop, he'd make me a meal that I could digest, because you know I'm sick! So I relented, we got the stuff, went home and I couldn't 'cook together'. I couldn't stand… I could barely walk! Kyle sucked his teeth in denial

Liz: I went to bed and thought he would leave me alone, maybe bring me some Campbell's soup. He came in the room with a cutting board, a bell pepper and a knife.

Batman (pointing to the knife in the man's thigh): The knife that's in his thigh?

Liz nodded, hands on her hips.

Liz: Oh yeah, I lost it. I'm not proud to admit it, but "cooking together" with that man is me doing ninety percent of the cooking! He does this with all his family and I can usually let it go, but not when I'm going through the flu!

Kyle: Oh my God, I had a cold at ten and it wasn't even that bad. You're such a—

Liz tossed the bell pepper she had been gripping in her hand directly at Kyle's head, making him grunt and interrupting his whining for a second.

Kyle (whining again): I just wanted to cook together!

Jim: You keep saying that, but that doesn't mean anything. Especially since she's sick. Why would you want her to cook when she has the flu? Also you lied to her, you promised her a dinner you'd cook.

Kyle: There is a knife in my thigh!

Jim (jokingly): You're alive. I got stabbed once and could still work so that means yours can't be that bad.

Liz: He's done crap similar to this. One time he did that stupid TikTok challenge where the guy says 'what's for dinner, bitch?' and I let it slide, but what he did was uncalled for! Batman has said anything, but I'm ready for my scolding.

Batman covered his mouth, unintentionally laughing. He turned to Jim, placing his hand on the man's shoulder.

Batman: This is fucking wild!

Jim nodded, rubbing his eyes and laughing as well.

Batman: I'm sorry, I just keep picturing you grabbing the knife and jabbing it into his thigh and he shouts "I just wanted to cook together!"

Jim: This fucking guy. He's like the dog that keeps bringing the ball back and I just want to rest.

Liz started laughing next, still pissed but glad two other men were on her side.

Liz: Dude, agree. I couldn't take his nonsense anymore.

Kyle: I'm right here!

Liz scoffed rolling her eyes.

Liz: Look I know I overreacted, but he promised to make dinner and give me my medicine then brought me a cutting board!

Batman: Which is the worst task to give a sick person. Bringing a knife and cutting board in bed. You're going to prison, but I don't blame you.

Jim: Yeah, you overreacted, but he's alive. We just have to wait for the EMTs to take him away and then take you in for questioning. Honestly you might not get jail time.

Kyle (defiant, whining): I'm suing her either way!

Liz: I'll pay half of your medical bills douche. This was a good reason to dump him at least. Kyle, pack your shit later and leave. We're through.

Kyle: Fine! I'll find another—

Batman and Jim: STOP SAYING COOK TOGETHER!

Kyle pouted, resting on the ground with his arms cross while Liz sat down to blow her nose.

Based off a reddit story I saw on smosh pit that angered me so much I had to write a what if. In the AITA post OP is the boyfriend who brought in the cutting board and she didn't stab him (I would've hit him with the cutting board at least). I can only hope she dumped his ass.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@waynes-multiverse

This was so wonderful and a beautiful valentine treat!! You and @luci-in-trenchcoats and @zepskies are all out here inspiring me with these headcanon fics. 💗 Also I may have hyper-fixated and wrote a lot 😅, but these were all just so glorious ❤️

Dean

I really loved that for Dean you made it a thing that he "doesn't know how to be romantic." or that he believes that he "isn't romantic." Because it kinda fits that Dean doesn't understand that romance doesn't always have to be super big gestures but can be just giving someone your last bite of pie (HA) or just remembering the kind of coffee your significant other likes or lending a gentle ear when your significant other needs that. And I love that you highlight that the reader knows this, but Dean doesn't. That the reader can see those wonderful little things that Dean does for her and no other man ever has. Also so jealous because I want Dean to make me a mixtape 📼

But I love Dean's take on romance in his section: the chick flick, the fairy lights, the snacks, and the box of chocolates. It is very him and oh so perfect 😍

"Happy unattached-drifter-Christmas, sweetheart."

Soldier Boy

Aww yeah, here we go, our man is pulling out all the stops *rubbing hands together* 🤣 This one was so good, because yes, Ben knows what romance is supposed to look like, he just doesn't always put in the effort (I say it gently because I love this grumpy old man with my whole heart) LOL

But when he does- LOOK OUT LADIES 👀🔥

Everything you wrote for him is so perfect- "Of course" the lingerie and a dress that is his signature color, and the fancy resturant, the horse drawn carriage, the roses- All so on brand for him.

I loved:

He holds your hand in public and protectively guides you goddamn everywhere with a palm on the small of your back, showing you off like arm candy – the trophy wife. Sure, you could protest and critique his… traditional views. You’re not a fucking award he’s won for bad acting! But your cheeks flush furiously every single time he brags boisterously about you to anyone who will listen. And those who don’t listen are forced to listen. But you can’t deny it feels good to be so wanted, so desired.

Because we all know that man would one million percent be possessive of his woman and fall into that traditional view of a woman being a trophy, but oh my sweet baby corn sometimes the feminist inside of me kinda goes just a tad on hiatus 😂 And then when she comes back, she usually thinks that she can fix him lol

Beau Arlen

I still have not gotten to see Big Sky yet, but each time I see something for this beautiful "cowboy sheriff" I remind myself that I need to lol.

He doesn’t wait for D-Day either. Every day for thirteen days straight, there’s a little surprise waiting for you when you get home.

Oh goodness, I love the idea that he gets his girl something each day to make her feel "loved and wanted." That is just the sweetest thing in the whole world 😍

This day is all about his endless love for you. Honestly, the sheer amount of everything makes you even slightly uncomfortable. It might sound dumb, but how could you ever compete with that level of commitment?

This is exactly how I'd feel. I love the romance but at the same time I would literally feel like I've done absolutely nothing to deserve that and how can I make it up to him?

He’s moved, and it moves you. Because, after all, to you, there’s no bigger gift in this world than his smile.

I'm crying. I just thought you should know 😭

Russell Shaw

Out of all of these, I think that Russell's was my absolute favorite. (Ben I still love you, please don't take this the wrong way 😂)

But I loved everything about this one because the way you portrayed the reader.

All day long, you curse the greeting card companies and the poisonous claws of consumerism for making you care in the first place. You’re a strong, independent woman. You shouldn’t need a man to give you flowers, gifts, or attention to feel appreciated. Still…

If this isn't me every freaking year I don't know what is 🤣 Half price chocolate the day after is always the best thing about Valentine's Day lol

But I like that the reader was a little disappointed at the beginning even though she was trying not to be. It was very realistic and makes so much sense, especially because she's in a long distance relationship and watching all the couples around her getting showered in gifts.

Russell always leaves you wanting more… That can both be a good thing and a very bad one.

Love this for Russell, because I think it fits anyone who is in a relationship with him. He gets called away on a whim to do a crazy job that he can't really talk about. Of course he's always going to leave his significant other "wanting more."

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You surge forward into his strong arms so forcefully you almost tackle him to the ground, your hands slinging around his neck. If you could keep him caged there forever, you’d be fine with it. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Russell says with a warm chuckle and claims your lips in a searingly passionate kiss that shows you just how much he’s certainly missed you too. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

AND HE SURPRISED HER?! I LOVE THIS!! 😍😍😍

Girl, all of these were perfect and fit each of these characters!!! But for the love of goodness all of these had me:

P.S. If there is still room of your taglist can you possibly please add me? You're such a wonderful writer! 🥹👉🏻👈🏻💗

Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

(Dean Winchester // Soldier Boy // Beau Arlen // Russell Shaw – Edition)

Prompt: How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentine's Day?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader // Soldier Boy x reader // Beau Arlen x reader // Russell Shaw x reader

Warnings: +18 for some language and spice, tons of fluff, a smidge of angst

A/N: Something sweet to sweep you off your feet for the most romantic day of the year 😉 Happy early Valentine's from me, my loves 💖 (And big thanks to the lovely, amazing @zepskies 💜 for starting this trend in the first place. It's addicting 😂🫶)

Dean:

Dean isn’t big on Valentine’s Day and romance. Not because he thinks it’s an unnecessary holiday invented by greeting card companies, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to be romantic.

You’re aware of this and don’t care if he surprises you with a big gesture. Because truth is, Dean’s romantic when it comes to the little things.

You don’t care if he brings you flowers because he brings you your favorite take-out order when you so much as mention that you’re hungry.

You don’t care if he gets you a card because he gets up in the middle of the night and saunters all the way to kitchen to bring you a glass of water when you tell him you’re thirsty.

You don’t care if he gets you chocolate because he creates personal mixtapes for you with songs you said you liked during random drives.

He listens to you. He holds open doors for you. He protects you. He keeps you calm. He takes care of you when you’re injured. And he loves you with every fiber of his being.

So, really, you don’t care if he makes a big deal out of one random calendar day a year or not. It doesn’t prove his love for you – the little things do.

However, you’re still sweetly surprised (and moved to tears) when you find the Dean Cave dipped in the warm glow of fairy lights and candles.

He’s picked out your favorite chick-flick and your favorite snacks.

He opens his arms with a big, cheeky grin and invites you into his snuggly embrace on the couch.

There’s a box of chocolates on the coffee table, a few of them half eaten, and a note that reads: I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is. Be mine?

You smile and kiss his scruffy cheek. “Always.”

Flustered, he smiles, cheeks tinged pink, and kisses your crown. “Happy unattached-drifter-Christmas, sweetheart.”

Soldier Boy:

To say Ben’s old-school when it comes to romance would be an understatement. While the rest of the year his bedside manners leave much to desire, he strangely shines on Valentine’s.

Mostly, because he knows sex is a given on this holiest of holy days. No sickness or period can stop him.

If you accidentally died, you’re even sure he’d pull a full Weekend at Bernie’s and have a night out with your corpse.

First, he surprises you with a delicately wrapped gift on your bed: a tight-fitting, beautiful emerald evening gown and the matching lacy lingerie set.

Of course he got you underwear, even though he won’t mind if you don’t wear anything at all under that dress.

He then takes you out to the fanciest restaurant in the city, where he reserved a private room away from all the other commoners.

His attention is only on you.

He praises you all night long and gives compliments as if he's never done anything else his entire (long) life.

He orders the most expensive bottle of wine and the best steak and makes sure you know that it is.

He encourages you to play footsie under the table with him before he slips the heel off your foot, and your toes massage the growing bulge in his slacks.

He holds your hand in public and protectively guides you goddamn everywhere with a palm on the small of your back, showing you off like arm candy – the trophy wife.

Sure, you could protest and critique his… traditional views.

You’re not a fucking award he’s won for bad acting!

But your cheeks flush furiously every single time he brags boisterously about you to anyone who will listen. And those who don’t listen are forced to listen.

But you can’t deny it feels good to be so wanted, so desired.

When you come home at the end of the night (with a fucking horse-drawn carriage no less), Ben can barely keep his large hands from roaming your curves. You know he expects his reward now for being the best possible lover ever.

On the kitchen island, you also find a huge bouquet of red roses waiting for you. You can barely appreciate its beauty before the zipper in the back of your dress slides open. Well… rips open.

Between the thorny stems, there’s a card attached, too. It doesn’t read “Be Mine,” however.

Nope, it says, “You are mine.”

And you know he fucking means it.

Beau Arlen:

Your favorite cowboy sheriff will pull out all the stops as soon as the calendar on his desk reads February.

He doesn’t wait for D-Day either. Every day for thirteen days straight, there’s a little surprise waiting for you when you get home.

Your favorite flowers, your favorite meal, your favorite movie, a framed picture of you and him from your first vacation together, a necklace you saw in an antique store you mentioned in passing…

Some might say he’s a little overcompensating.

But Beau has made mistakes in his past, especially on the relationship front, and will be damned if he hasn’t learned from them.

So, he will make sure you feel wanted and loved till the day he dies, even though you keep repeatedly telling him he doesn’t need to make a fuss about Valentine’s Day.

Really, you’re good with picked flowers from the garden.

But Beau’s stubborn and won’t be discouraged. The southern gentlemanliness is rooted deep within his heart and soul.

This day is all about his endless love for you.

Honestly, the sheer amount of everything makes you even slightly uncomfortable. It might sound dumb, but how could you ever compete with that level of commitment?

There ain’t enough blow jobs in this world to make up for his devotion to you.

But on the big day itself, you are actually the one who surprises him with a romantic weekend trip to a cabin in the mountains and excellent fishing spots close by.

You know the biggest gift you could give him is some peace and quiet, time for himself, and a listening ear because he will surely talk the entire time about God and the world while you’re stuck on a boat with him.

But on the night itself, when you give him your gift, he’s actually speechless. Tears brim in his green eyes because you thought of him.

He’s moved, and it moves you.

Because, after all, to you, there’s no bigger gift in this world than his smile.

Russell Shaw:

You don’t expect much when Valentine’s Day looms in the distance. In fact, you don’t expect anything at all.

You’ve only been dating Russell for a couple of months now, and you barely ever see him. Your time together mostly consists of text messages, late night phone calls, and the occasional video chats.

You know his job is complicated. You know he can’t be around as much, even though you direly wish he could.

On the morning of the dreaded day, you receive a simple text message:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart! I’ll call you later!”

You hate to admit it, but you feel a little disappointed – disenchanted even. You don’t want to make a big deal out of it because it’s a stupid, unimportant almost-holiday.

All day long, you curse the greeting card companies and the poisonous claws of consumerism for making you care in the first place.

You’re a strong, independent woman. You shouldn’t need a man to give you flowers, gifts, or attention to feel appreciated.

Still…

As you park in the driveway after a long day at work where you watched your colleagues fawn over the bouquets they received from their partners, you feel disheartened when you still haven’t even gotten your promised phone call.

Russell always leaves you wanting more… That can both be a good thing and a very bad one.

But as you close the car door, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You all too keenly pull it out and pick up, almost dropping it because your hands are jittering with excitement at this point and your heart is pounding furiously.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Russell greets you on the other end, the deep timbres of his voice sending immediate shivers down your spine. “You home yet?”

All your worries and sorrows are instantly forgotten when you hear the big smile on his freckled face that he’s surely carrying.

He’s worth it, you remind yourself, even when it’s not easy. Life is not always rainbows and butterflies.

“Uh, almost. Unlocking the front door as we speak,” you tell him.

“Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. Was stuck on a plane. Long flight,” he says mysteriously. You don’t even ask at this point. You know he can’t tell you.

“No worries. I was busy, anyways,” you lie and hope he buys your nonchalance. “Anywhere interesting you are now?”

“You could say that, yeah…”

“Well, if you hold on a second, I’ll slip out of those clothes and make your evening even more interesting with some pictures,” you tease flirtatiously and push the door open to your dark apartment.

The light switches on by itself, though. You blink in surprise before the phone falls out of your hand when Russell beams broadly at you.

“As much as I love getting your dirty little photos, I think I prefer the real thing tonight,” he says slyly.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You surge forward into his strong arms so forcefully you almost tackle him to the ground, your hands slinging around his neck. If you could keep him caged there forever, you’d be fine with it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Russell says with a warm chuckle and claims your lips in a searingly passionate kiss that shows you just how much he’s certainly missed you too. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Hope you enjoyed these little snippets, friends! Do you agree with these? 😉

I legit stole Dean's half-eaten box of chocolate and the Forrest Gump note from another fic of mine. I couldn't resist. I can totally see him doing something silly and cute like that 😂

Happy Valentine's 💕

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[sissybabycucksophia]

The Adult Baby Adoption Part 5

(This story is complete fiction and although i may desperately wish it isn’t, there is no fact or real world experience behind this story, and themes reflected in the story may be triggering, these themes are not my actual beliefs and are only part of a fantasy kink scenario. Also non of the images belong to me)

After lying there disgusted, ashamed and thoroughly emasculated by Cynthia and Daddy’s wild night of passion I begun to ask myself questions like “is this seriously my life now” and “will I ever feel my dick inside a woman again” a familiar and horrifying feeling began to build in my stomach. Suddenly pain and intense cramps began surging from my gut, and pressure begun building in my bowels I knew exactly what this feeling was! “NO NO NO NO NO!!! I Wont shit myself lying here like this NO I won’t do it, I dont know how but I have to get these layers off! I wont lie here and shit myself like a helpless baby!!” I thought angrily.

Suddenly I begun to violently kick my legs, bouncing my head and torso up and to get the heavy pink duvet off of me. With each bounce of my head the humiliating and irritating feeling of my wigs low ponytails slapping around. Eventually and while clenching my butt hole as tight as I could, the duvet was mostly off my body. Next came a manoeuvre which felt like super spy precision but im sure in fact was more pathetic looking than anyone could dream. While my stomach angrily gurgled I would both sit up and attempt to swivel on my heavily padded ass, swinging the legs of the sleep sack toward the edge of the bed, despite being in the middle of the massive super king size pink 4 poster bed I would use my heels and bend my knees to drag my ass to the edge of the bed.

Next came the stupidest decision I could possibly have made. I mean even if I could somehow stand up with crawl booties on… how was I removing the restraining belt keeping my arms from being useful? The timer lock set for god knows how long? The tied on mittens under the sleepsack mittens? Not to mention getting the diapers off without daddy stopping me?…. All rational questions that a grown man desperate to not shit himself while dressed in a demoralising manner such as this was willing to completely ignore in the pursuit of freedom. And so I would scooch my bum and jump off the bed onto my sleepsack and crawl bootie trapped feet. For a moment… only a mere moment mind you, I managed to stand on my tippy toes like a ballerina and even turned to face the bottom of the bed toward the door. However moments do, this one passed quickly, feeling pain in my toes I would Lose my balance.

Falling forward and with no ability to put my arms out to brace myself I would fall hitting my forehead off the hard wooden bedframe, sharp pain rushed to my forehead as I landed face down next too the bed. Rolling onto my back away from the bed I fell blood running down my forehead and instantly tears filled my eyes again…. In that moment of weakness my ass would relax and into my diapers would explode a warm, gloopy and fowl smelling shit! Feeling it spread itself across my ass and between my legs too my crotch toward my cage I admitted defeat… abandoning any sense of reason or control I began to scream and whale for my Daddy like a baby. Genuine fear and upset ripped through me as I wondered whether my crys would be heeded or whether leaving me on the floor like this was simply to be another step in my demoralisation.

However to my surprise the door would unlock and I would be blinded as someone entered and turned on the ceiling light which I was now staring at. Hurrying over to me, Daddy and Cynthia crouched at either side of me, opening my tear filled eyes my breath trembled and I sniffled as I looked into daddy’s face expecting Anger. To my surprise I was met with genuine concern on his face, sliding an hand under my head he guided my head onto his lap and gently stroked the top of the bonnet that was pathetically tied on my head. “Cynthia, go grab the first aid kit please, Jade needs that head wound tidied up!” Daddy said authoritatively as I watched a total naked Cynthia nod and walk out of the room, it was in that moment that my cage tightened trying to smother the erection of seeing such a stunning woman naked that I realised…. Slowly shifting my focus back to daddy I once again was mortified as there right next to my head lay daddy’s large flaccid cock.

BeforeI could even begin to pull away or struggle daddy began to speak softly too me, “Im so sorry princess, this is all daddy’s fault…”. ‘Finally! Now you see all these layers and restraints were overkill! Good now can you get me out of them!’ I thought as daddy took pause. Continuing softly he added “its all my fault for pushing you to be too independent and too free to move around so early. You’re still just a diaper dependent little girl and to allow you such movement around that bed was stupid of me! I knew I should have had you tightly and safely secured to the bed with those bed restraints Reverend Imelda recommended.” My eyes widened in disbelief, ‘TOO MUCH FREEDOM!!! Seriously!!! The only pieces of skin not completely covered by about six layers is my face!!” I thought in a mix of outrage and fear. But at that the birthday suit Cynthia returned, crouching down next to me she retrieved wipes and a small bottle from the first aid kit. “Lucky for Sissy Jade, I’m a Paediatrician. But thats too big a word for such a little girl, it means I’m a childrens doctor. So I can reassure daddy here that this is just a superficial cosmetic wound, once cleaned up I’ll pinch it back together and seal it with medical superglue!” Cynthia explained as her voluptuous breasts jiggled in my face. Proceeded to do as she said, a piece of me found myself kind of gutted at not needing to go to hospital, maybe there I could have convinced someone to help me. As Cynthia finished dealing with my head, Daddy would evilly press his hand on my crotch and squish, pushing the now cold gloopy shit around my groin. The feeling made me want to rip everything off just to get that horrible feeling off my skin, “nope, seems like the laxatives and diuretics i put in your dinner havent quite fully emptied your bowels in here… no changes till the morning then.” Daddy cooed ‘Laxatives!! Diuretics!!?? You bastard!!!’ I thought as Cynthia packed up the first aid cut, but not before humiliating me by showing me the bow shaped, Disney’s Minnie mouse inspired band aid 🩹 which she stuck over my now sealed wound.

At that to my surprise Daddy would Hoist me up into his arms as he stood up. Once again held in a princess carry I asked through the pacifier as best I could “hare Aaaa oooo Aaachhing eee oww?” To which Daddy responded, “for tonight, since your bed clearly is not safe, You’ll sleep in bed with mommy and daddy tonight!” To which my cage once again smothered a humiliation induced erection. Why!? Why was he doing this! Surely he wanted to torture me! As I was carried into daddy’s bedroom I was in awe of its sleek black and gunpowder grey modern aesthetic, so masculine and confident in its design. A complete and total contrast to what was now to be considered my room. Carrying me over to the massive super king size bed Daddy would place me down smack in the middle of the bed, he and Cynthia would then laugh and flirt with each other before Cynthia lay down to my left. Pressing her body against my sleepsack imprisoned for and her breast right next to my head I begun to wonder whether I’d been deliberately positioned lower in the bed than Cynthia. At that Daddy entered the ensuite bathroom and I heard the shower start up, and with that Cynthia’s hand would begin to gently caress my cheek, “did you try to escape and do that to your head because hearing real adults have sex made you feel pathetic and inadequate? Thats hilarious! Im gonna be honest with you sissy… I’m gonna try convince your daddy that from now on you should be in a crib in the room when we’re having sex since you are clearly too young and ill behaved to be left alone~” in a moment of frustration and humiliation I forgot about my restraints and attempted to swat her hand away from my face however all I could manage was a small jarring motion which simply made Cynthia stop and go silent for a moment before bursting into laughter.

After the shower sound stopped I would hear a phone ringing and daddy answering it in the bathroom, unfortunately through the wig, the bonnet and being smooshed into Cynthia I was unable to clearly make out the conversation. When daddy re-entered he would lay down naked but at least clean, on the opposite side from me than Cynthia. Rolling toward me to look over my head at Cynthia I was disgusted feeling his huge cock slap against my the thigh region of my sleepsack. Mortified by all that was happening I watched daddy and Cynthia talk. “Looks like my little jadey bear has a playdate tomorrow, that boy from the church apparently! How exciting!! My beautiful little girl attracting boys already” Daddy said to Cynthia as she simply giggled and laughed. As daddy spoke I was unable to stop from peeing into my shit piss and cum filled diaper, ‘boy? Oh god? Who does he mean? That disgusting pervert that hump me to orgasm in his diapers? Or the beautiful woman forced to be a baby boy?!!’ I thought.

At that daddy would kiss my forehead before rolling me over onto my side so my face was nuzzled in his chest and I felt his huge cock press against my crotch, Cynthia then shuffled in tight to my back pressing her huge breasts against the back of my neck so that they could lie foreheads touching. Never in my life had I felt so unbelievably humiliated, emasculated and weak… and yet so desperate to orgasm as much cock ached in its cage. Eventually as the lights turned off I was helpless but to simply fall asleep cradled between my new caregivers…. Dreaming of what hell awaited me on my playdate.

[gogandmagog]

Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery

Anne of the Island, Chapter Three!

Here comes Redmond! It would be on a Monday, too.

Two things I really, really love: that Di and Anne wanted to drive to the station together, and Anne’s sense of foreboding/little “presentiment” that she was actually leaving Green Gables forever. Of course, we readers know this to be true, but we thankfully have the advantage of knowing yet another truth... that yes, Anne can be happy somewhere else. I also wonder how much of Anne’s foresight is linked, in terms of the bends-in-the-road, to the appeal and/or dread of the ferry itself (as last time she was a passenger, it brought her from the asylum to Green Gables), because it seems to be the very vehicle of Anne’s shifting futures.

“Dora […] was one of those fortunate creatures who are seldom disturbed by anything.” Funny. I can’t tell if this is supposed to be her natural-born disposition or if it’s a defense mechanism learned by way of necessity, on account of having Davy for a brother.

Something else (of virtual inconsequence) that I like to note about the boat interlude, is that Anne’s internal monologue demonstrates clear annoyance towards Charlie, supposing that he’d be only pretending to be sentimental about watching PEI disappear from their sight... when only one or two lines later, it’s Gilbert that’s actually openly unsentimentally commenting, “Well, we’re off!” But Anne is somehow rather fine with that, lmao. I suppose it’s just the pretense that bugs her. Or maybe it’s the pretense of Charlie being able to relate to her feelings that bugs her? Meanwhile, there’s zero pretense in Anne’s ability to comfortably share her truest feelings with Gilbert. Cute!

That Gilbert’s not-so-very-sentimental over leaving Avonlea is not particularly strange, either. He is 21, and he has been largely out of his parents home, experiencing self-reliance, for over a year now, while boarding and teaching at White Sands. The age gap between Anne and Gilbert is nearly always negligible, but here in this one book I do think it’s occasionally a little glaring. Anne’s just a wee and nervous fledgling, dipping a pinky toe into the pool of independence, where as Gilbert’s wings are strong, and already maturely developed. 

Anne of the Island, Chapter Four!

Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery

Every time I read this chapter, I’m reminded of the main difference between Anne of Windy Poplars and Anne of Windy Willows… which is that the Canadian publisher, for Windy Poplars, was mighty concerned about Maud’s fixation on graves and cemeteries and gruesome deaths throughout the text, and asked for quite a lot of it to be cut out. The English (Windy Willows, that is), however, really said doooon’t care. 🤓

Much respect and credit due to the Montgomery scholars, who have over the years hunted up and presented the following photos of Old St. Paul’s Burying Ground in Halifax, as close as possible to how it would’ve looked, for Anne and Pris and Phil.

Pris feeling like an ‘elephant’ at registration because of her considerable height, besides just making me sad for her, is always a source of curiosity for me. Anne is tall too... but she is proud of this, and when people speak of Anne being tall, it’s always in a tone of admiration. So, I wager we can guess that Pris must dwarf Anne’s tall? In the 1880s, historical data generalises that the average Canadian woman was 160 cm or 5’3[ish]. Anne, being ‘tall’, was probably 165 cm or 5’5, soooo Pris, markedly feeling enormous, maybe 172 cm? 5’8? This would be boyishly tall, since the average man of this time-period was the same 172 cm or 5'8.

Phil! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Btw who’s gonna take one for the team and dream up an “Anne of Mount Holly” fic, an (obvious) AU where Anne’s mum Bertha and Phil’s mum were pals (since they’re from the same city, after all), and it ends up it’s actually the Gordon’s that take Anne in, when her parents pass. An Anne from luxury, instead of an asylum.

“Thanks,” laughed Anne, “but Priscilla and I are so firmly convinced of our own good looks that we don’t need any assurance about them, so you needn’t trouble.” How far Anne has come. I think of that Louisa May Alcott quote, “love is a great beautifier.” Maud also leans heavily into love as transformative/beautifier for so many of her girls, and imo this is a pretty great message and overall universal truth, security and kindness giving way to confidence.

Okay, but between the two, as described, am I on crack or is the obvious choice not Alec? Or maybe I’m prejudiced against the name Alonzo, as well.

Anne going cold on Phil the second she mentions finding Gilbert ‘really handsome’ is soooy charmingly Anneish. Bonus points to Pris here, because evidentially she knew to begin preparing to leave in that moment too. Girlish solidarity.

The connection between Phil and Ruby is yet another point of interest to me. They share nearly the very same lines, sometimes, here specifically when we march steadily backwards to Anne of Green Gables when of Ruby the narrative asserts for her, "Frank Stockley had lots more dash and go, but then he wasn’t half as good-looking as Gilbert and she really couldn’t decide which she liked best!" Compared of course to Phil’s, “I like them both so much that I really don’t know which I like the better.”

Anne of the Island, Chapter Five!

Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery

Gilbert Blythe is good at everything he puts the tiniest amount of effort into. 😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌 He’s class president, he’s football captain, and he’s singled out among the other members of the freshman class, to join a frat. Niiiiice. I know I’ve totally yapped about it before, but I think it’s wildly intriguing that Maud put Gilbert into Lamba Theta, when irl there were only three frats existing across all of Canada. Even when she attended Dalhousie, almost two decades after Anne and Gilbert attend Redmond. Small potatoes Dalhousie wouldn’t have a proper frat until 1923. So, I’m dying to know where from she gathered her frat info, especially as she’s obviously familiar with hazing/initiation processes. Elsewhere, the good news is: a Victorian-era frat was a legitimate intellectual and debate society, not a collection of dudebros in Sperrys, having beer pong championships at 9 am on a Tuesday.

“Gilbert Blythe won’t take any notice of me, except to look at me as if I were a nice little kitten he’d like to pat. Too well I know the reason. I owe you a grudge, Queen Anne.” Gilbert Blythe also has tunnel vision. You can line up every single one of the above ^ accolades, but none of them hold as strong or are even half so appealing as this; Gilbert’s capacity for fidelity. Phil’s the best-looking girl in her class, and besides which is also enormously clever and funny and affluent, and yet her attempts (“won’t take any notice of me” implies that Phil did try, and did seek said attention) fall flat. His heart has been spoken for since he was 13, you see.

Officially entering ‘Queen Anne’ 👑 into the registry of Anneisms.

"Even the grumpy old professor of Mathematics, who detested coeds, and had bitterly opposed their admission to Redmond, couldn’t floor her [Phil]." This was reputedly a real fellow iirc. In a magazine article from I think, 1912, A. Wylie Mahon published a review of Anne of the Island, in which he stated emphatically that “Redmond College is Dalhousie University” (true) and that the 'grumpy old professor of Mathematics, who detested coeds,' “was known to the students of his day as ‘Charlie'...” (possibly true).

“I don’t believe any but fools enter the ministry nowadays,” she wrote bitterly. PFFFT 😭😭😭 I laugh every time I read this letter. I wish I could correspond with Mrs Rachel.

I do wish I could forget about the ugly ‘big black man’ story that Davy shares, but is anyone familiar with “the old Harry” he refers to? 🧐 I’ve never been able to tell if this is a Mi’kmaq Gugwe reference or if it’s just supposed to mean literally like… some guy… named Harry. Orr?

[simps-4-russian-assassains]

Nobody has asked but here’s my head canons of what instrument each character would/‘ve played if/when they were in high school… basically high school Band AU (? I have no idea what I’m doing)

Elliot Stabler: Trumpet (look at that man and tell me he doesn’t look like he would play the trumpet, like come on his posture screams that plus of course military but I digress)

Olivia Benson: Bass Clarinet (her mother feels like she wouldn’t allow her much choice in which instrument she could play. So her choices would be either flute or clarinet becuz her mom wouldn’t want to deal with the noise. And so she picks clarinet but then highschool comes around she’s starting to want to distance herself from her mom and the band needs a bass clarinet… two birds one stone)

Melinda Warner: Saxophone (She’s a part of the group, but she feels slightly separated. You don’t worry about her becuz you know she can do her job. She gives the cool energy of the quiet saxophone kid that kept the band together. *Fun Fact, she is what inspired me to do this whole list becuz I watched the episode where it’s mentioned she was Air Force and just immediately knew she was in the Air Force Band*)

John Munch: Percussion/mallets (dude gives he learned piano as a kid and so can do mallets, and he gives vibes of percussionist that you have no control of his attention in the back of the room *He’s talking about his conspiracy theories* the vibes are there)

Odafin Tutuola (can’t spell it): Percussion/Toys (he gives crash cymbals… idk what to say, he looks like he’d be able to do the cool tricks *how he got his nickname, cuz the cymbals are his fins* and his relationship with Munch screams the old married couple of the section)

Alex Cabot: French Horn (look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think Alex *Hi, Uncle Bill* *Nepo Baby* Cabot wouldn’t play a stick up the ass instrument? But also play it so beautifully, and she gives the vibes dammit)

Rita Calhoun: French Horn (same reasons as above but also throwing in her and Alex’s friendly rivalry always fighting over first chair)

Casey Novak: Percussion/Trap Set/Quads/timpanis (Ok so she’s a bit more complicated. The swagger? Gives percussion. Her passion? Personality? Gives more then one drum at a time. And so I had to have one per season of band *Marching, Jazz/Concert, and Concert* I’ll include headcanons at the end if you need some mental imagery)

Amanda Rollins: Flute? (Open to contestments, only started rewatching SVU and so haven’t rewatched newer seasons yet, I can be persuaded on anything with her)

Sonny Carisi: Drum Major (the way he holds himself, and his presence within the squad, he’s a multi trick pony *Detective and ADA*)

Rafael Barba: Bass Drum (His presence is solid and consistent. He himself doesn’t necessarily need to be loud, he’s a constant solid beat, constantly moving them forward.)

George Hyuang: Clarinet (he reminds me of people I went to school with who played clarinet *In a good way* more evidence later on.)

Donald Cragen: He’s the director (obviously he’s the one in “charge”, he just gives director energy *its the dad energy* but when he was in band he play percussion specifically the toys, like triangle and cowbell)

Liz Donnelly: PTA Mom/Trombone (When she was in school? She played trombone, it fits the vibe of her being a girl/woman trying to fit in a stereotypical “boy/men” role. And I can see her trying to showboat act tough with it… idk I can talk more about what I mean but 🤷🏼‍♀️. But she also gives extreme PTA Mom vibes. But like in the way that she’s actually in charge, she’s keeping everyone alive. In the “well Cragen won’t care that much’ ‘but Donnelly is gonna kill us”, idk I see her with her 80s hair with a turtle neck sweater with a “I’m with the band” t-shirt over it, doing all the extra stuff… she’s band mom)

Lena Petrovsky: Choir Director (has to deal with their shenanigans, if needed can reign students in, must chaperone on most trips. She hates them, but she tolerates the few kids that are in both band and choir)

I’ll happily take suggestions… on most of them… I’ll hear anyone’s opinion about it

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Mars in libra ♎️ in fall

So when you see them doing it with someone else it might not be so cute and he had his.. Venus and Mars in Libra even though he is a Virgo and it is disputed whether he’s a Capricorn or Sagittarius moon. I swing more to the side of Capricorn because of virus and things like that and him contracting HIV and then later aids.

Don’t ask me why I just feel like that makes more sense to me. One of them seems to rule the bloodstream I’m pretty sure those two signs. So where did it become a challenger in his life apart from that. the balance within his group. with band mates such as borrowing may and the jealousy between the two. and the rivalry

And also his double life Libra double life it’s her dual sign... and he had a very lonely life where he became close with this man is in the the film by him and rapsody he came close with this man who basically revealed all the dirt on him I think he was meant to actually be one of his lovers and he was really cold hearted... and write all about freddy’s lonely life Freddie was the life and soul of the party but all his friends in the band. Kind of turned their back on him a little bit and he was all on his own anyway at the end of his life he met someone I think his name was Jim and they looked very similar as often gay couples do even more than straight couples. Like Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss. Who. In a magazine they did a whole shoot of them two together like they were a couple and they were all wearing the same clothes in each shirt. And lastly this picture had been a I I’m not too sure but it was still weird but I know for sure they definitely did a magazine shoot together.

. now that’s someone with Sagittarius energy but also strong water energy Taylor Swift and she, is believed to be secretly in the closet and leaving clues in her songs in her clothes etcetera there’s a whole community of people online on TikTok on Spotify on YouTube who believe that Taylor Swift is actually lesbian. And I would not not believe it because I’d believe anything nowadays. And the way she sticks up for women and that and is proud of women I at least think she’s bisexual even though I’m not a Taylor Swift fan I’ve listened to one of her songs and it was amazing they did like this piece on SNL I think it was. Anyway here’s how Mars and Libra can go wrong if you want more detail and you want me to go into more than one person let me know. This Mars in Libra modern labor. When it’s not so good I’m Freddie Mercury had his Venus in Libra as well and I always say these people can be so charming and to be careful with their charm because they will be doing exactly what they’re doing to you to somebody else and that’s that’s what I believe no matter what sign it’s in it will work that way like I said I was going to do Heidi flies the Hollywood madam.

Whitney Houston another person who has a gay title this Mars placement. because in the beginning of her career she was attached to Robin Crawford. a friend of the family but her mum was incredibly homophobic whitney's mum... and she didn’t like Robin at all and the family all made her feel very uncomfortable but she was whitney’s friend and she was the one she was taking to award shows free Bobby.... in fact I think they would have rather her be if a woman beater than her to be happy with someone who treated her right which is really sad for Whitney because at the end of the life of her life she was with Ray J who is either hollywood’s pimp or drug dealer or both I don’t like the way he operates I mean if he works with the Kardashians and other sex tape with Kim that makes enough for me to make me think he’s really shady. and then the balancing act with how this placement can go dark so obviously it’s in the opposite sign of what sign it would be good in which is Aries Aries the God of War Aries Mars Mars the God of War Aries the sign of getting things going and getting on with things.... being straight to the point no sugarcoated unless there’s other pet placements like pisces or possibly Scorpio or Gemini. So yeah at the end of their life she was treated really badly and there’s a picture there’s a video even of the day before or a couple days before she died where she’s talking to the devil Clive Davis himself while he’s with an interview with Brandy and Monica and she hands the... major Brandy which grandy’s never revealed and Brandy is ray J’s older sister... it probably said can you get your brother to get me more drugs or something it was really sad what he did to her and I’ll never forgive him for it... on a Pamela who is so powerful in the industry and their partners career has... dwindled they were popular at one point in time but now their wife has taken over and they have to deal with that emasculating them and The funny thing is that both her. And Whitney both have a partner with their Mars in a water signSo they both had partners,, who were violent with them and then got back with them after the violence and they both gave a lot to the public over the years and have become culturally iconic and popular culture in the industry and in an other way.We love u guys

[sokkastyles]

Hey, sorry if my initial response came across as flippant, but you asked for my opinion and I have strong feelings both on love languages and Mai and Zuko, and I've seen the love languages argument before, both to explain why Mai and Zuko don't work, and by people who think it explains why they DO work.

I think there is some truth in the concept of love languages, but the way it's utilized and the history of it is pretty problematic. This article explains it really well, and part of the reason it's problematic is because the guy who invented it was promoting heteronormative relationships using binary ideas about gender, so almost all the women who were studied were told their love language was "acts of service" and almost all the men were told their love language is "physical touch." Which is just another way of saying that women are just naturally made to perform labor and men are just naturally made to need sex.

So it also doesn't surprise me to hear you say that Mai's love language is physical touch and Zuko's is acts of service and gift giving and words of affirmation. What's surprising is that the genders are flipped here. But it's still a dynamic where one party performs all the labor and the other gets to snog.

And the reason it ends up this way is because Zuko is an abuse victim who has learned to see love as transactional and one-sided as a trauma response. Mai doesn't know how to give and Zuko gives too much. This is a trauma bond and an unhealthy balance.

There's truth in love languages, of course, but the truth is that all people need these things at different times. But like the article says, the idea that love is a language can easily become manipulative. Mai often uses physical touch as a replacement for what Zuko really wants from her, and reacts negatively to his attempts at performing emotional labor but still expects it from him, like in "The Beach" when she demands he bring her food despite reacting negatively every time he brought her stuff previously in the episode.

Also, on the Boiling Rock being Mai's moment of the stakes being challenged, I'd agree, except in the end that's walked back entirely. The challenge was that she had to either let Zuko go or watch him die. She chooses the high road and lets him go, but then at the end of the show she comes back and tells him he can never break up with her again, so her moment of "letting Zuko go" only actually lasted for a few episodes. It's not even a problem that they got back together, it's that the show treats this like Mai deserves it and she gives Zuko an ultimatum about it, so she hasn't really learned anything about letting go or about what it really means to love someone and care more about their well-being than your relationship status with them.

The problem is that Zuko is held accountable, over and over again, and Mai is not.

I've also heard the love languages argument used to defend Kataang, and naturally Katara's love language is also said to be acts of service, because, you know, every woman really wants to mother their man. (sarcasm)

Which is just further confirmation to me that the concept can easily be used to justify unhealthy relationships. The problem is not a difference of love language, it's that one person is doing all the work and the other person is doing none of it. And we've already seen Mai treat another boyfriend the same way, so I don't think putting her with someone else will fix this unless she does A LOT of growing.

I'm not meaning to start (another) argument, but you asked for my opinion, so.

My take on Maiko

Now this isn't meant to be a bash against Mai. I wanted to point out the hot and cold emotional rollercoaster that is Mai and Zuko's relationship. I believe they are not romantically compatible but it isn't any one person's fault.

They have different love languages and different relationship wants and needs. They also have opposing political views.

Zuko's experiences have changed him, what with being banished and life as a fugitive. He is no longer the boy Mai had a childhood crush on. People grow and change and so do too our interpersonal relationships.

Despite everything, they still care for each other. Keep in mind that caring for someone can be platonic or familial as well, not just romantic.

Simply put, they are not a good match for each other.

[offshore-brinicle]

Got interested in 1930s Korean school uniforms also

[arealtrashact]

If it wasn't for your Tumblr, I never would've watched The 10th (Tenth?) Kingdom. I thank you. 😃

You're welcome.

Now you too can live with the knowledge that we'll never get the planned sequel and, as a result, never see the abomination that these two managed to spawn.

I am haunted by the fact Simon Moore (writer) confirmed that their offspring would be 100% wolf.

[cosmic-walkers]

okay im gonna get off of steve and tom wolf hall parallels but i can't get over the whole father parallel things.

the more i think about it, the more at least in the show the whole wolsey bastard situation probably pissed stephen off because he saw how dorthea was essentially treated the same way he was treated by his own father. wolsey probably reminded stephen of his own father, in a negative way. because he had to have known about it. he probably had such a high opinion of wolsey at first, and then saw how dorthea was hushed away like a nuisance, and again, that is what happened to stephen. it's like they were both punished for being born out of wedlock.

which is so funny because the contrast to thomas is that thomas also saw wolsey as his father, a father figure who saved him and whom he loved. one who would never hurt him, and actually gave him the chance to be well, him. they were both essentially 'sons' of wolsey, sons that he had brought up, both lowborn just like wolsey but they also had such different views. and stephen started to resent him, even if in secret. at least in the show - because historically wolsey and stephen were besties.

i know we don't really develop into stephen's mind, but we know his parental situation in the book is a sore spot for him and i *think* that context is left out of the show. but that would've been another awesome parallel between them.

now tho, if stephen and thomas were friends, and stephen saw how thomas treated his own bastard now that probably would've given thomas some points in his book--

[aridhingra]

"All varieties of teasing are always on the table." A smirk tugging at his lips before laughing, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, tasting the saltiness of the water that still clung to his skin now. "Now who told you that you had an innocent appearance? Because they were lying, and you should get your money back." If there was one thing Ari could do, he could play the games too, she wanted to tease him, he could easily tease the blonde headed woman, at least she was being gracious enough to have talked to him so he wasn't standing on the beach completely alone, which had been the original plan. "Challenging and difficult, those are the two that you choose to start off with in telling someone about yourself? Brave, brave woman." Clicking his tongue, not sure if he was more impressed, amused, or fascinated by their conversation. "Believe you're supposed to save that information till you meet a person at least -- I don't know say the third time." Holding three of his fingers up as if driving the point really home. Though the blonde could do what she wanted, he just couldn't resist when she had offered up that information. "Mean there's the cliffs here, aren't there? Maybe it's not allowed to cliff jump from them, rocks below -- immediately crushes that rush, er -- figuratively and literally." Or maybe it was more turned into shredded human but there was no point in attempting to give more details to this story.

For Ari he was someone who was always up for an adventure, maybe you wouldn't actually find him cliff jumping but send him on a more difficult hike? Sign the man up. It was something he planned to do more of once the weather settled a bit more in Merrock and he could get outside, feel the crunch of his heavy boots back against the ground, it'd be that feeling of home for him. "That's all I could ever aim to be, a true gentleman, have to live up to someone's dreams." Ari quipped, tugging the towel tighter around his skin. "So you have one ghost lady, and you're willing to promote me. All I'm hearing is I'm winning at ghost life, and in the afterlife I'd at least have a friend, or maybe a ghost girlfriend, mean she's alone, I'm alone, haunting your for the rest of evermore might as well also make a partner out of it." It seemed like the only logical idea.

Giving a set nod, "You're not wrong, not something I want to think about anytime soon, actually happening. As much as haunting you until your last days probably would be far more amusing for me, than you. A person can only handle so many things going missing or ending up in random places before you know." Tapping the side of her temple indicating going a little crazy, but weren't they all in this world? "Definitely have a lot I want to teach him in this world so kind of have to stick around. Want him to learn to enjoy the outdoors, how to be kind and gentle with nature and animals." It was something he knew wouldn't happen for awhile, at least in the bigger sense there'd be years before he was taking him on adventures, but even in small ways he could make a change for the little boy. "Daddy Phantom sounds -- like you've been on booktok. Don't ask how I know about booktok either, you couldn't torture it out of me."

"I said that I'm freezing as fuck! Not that I fuck freezing -- wait, that -- no, definitely did not say that and I'm going to need you to make sure that you don't put out the image to anyone that I'm hanging around meat freezers. Are you trying to give the town of Merrock the idea I'm a serial killer? Not the vibe I'm trying to give, Sunny." As the blonde followed he rolled his eyes, "Apparently I'm far more exciting than you're giving me credit for, but I will take the liquor if you're offering now." Since this had all started over her playfully attempting to show off her spiked hot chocolate. Once inside it didn't take him long to dry off and change, emerging with his own hot drink, now far more suitable in a pair of jeans, his boots, and a simple button up. "Alright, I did make a pit stop for one of these, figure warm up and you show me the direction to this place you intend to take me to liquor me up and tap into all my secrets. Let's see how much game you have."

“Oh, I wasn’t aware any other variety of teasing was on the table,” Sunny couldn’t help but say, raising an eyebrow. She could appreciate the fact that Ari was multi-faceted. She didn’t know him well but he usually seemed mature, intelligent and it was nice to see a lighter side of him. She supposed that there had to be another side though given his history with Lucie. She didn’t know much about that either aside from Archer existing. To say the least, she was amused by all of this, more so than she was annoyed with the biting cold wind or the fact her hair kept blowing in her face. “I don’t think I ever said that I was an angel. I, despite this innocent appearance, can be many things and – challenging and difficult are just two of them.” She nodded though. “And yes, cliff diving is very much a thing. I mean, it’s probably more like large hills around here but there are cliffs in the world. The trick is honestly to just survive trying that thing once. Dying tends to take the fun out of everything.”

When it came to dumb decisions, Sunny was definitely the sort of person who would show up to support her friends through it. If there was an actual chance of death, she’d probably try and talk them out of it. She firmly believed in personal autonomy. Everyone had their own thoughts, feelings and preferences and if they only did the things she wanted them to do they weren’t going to be true to themselves. If they succeeded, great. If they failed, she was there. It all worked out in the end. At the moment, she was perfectly find to watch the chaos of the plunge and keep herself out of it. Truth be told, she couldn’t actually see ghosts or speak to spirits but she definitely believed they were out there. “You’re a true gentleman,” she said with a laugh. “Mostly just one but she’d be happy to have a new friend. Is it weird to pre-fix your living friends up with your house ghost lady? –I mean, I have a long friendship with her and we’ve only met a little while back but I’m open to promoting you. Especially, ghost you.”

It was probably not a good idea that he not die though. He did have dad stuff to do. “I’m sure it’ll end up okay though. I mean, he’s got fun parents. He’ll probably have plenty of fun words to say when he starts going,” she offered. At the end of the day everything was going to be just fine. “Maybe Daddy Phantom will be in the mix.”

It definitely was not easy to listen and not judge. She supposed she’d never be any of the trends because she definitely knew she was not demure. “Someone has to be that person, it might as well be me,” she said said with a shrug. “Ah. But I do have to question where you’re fucking that you’re freezing because I can’t say I’ve ever done that. Are you secretly a man around the meat locker?” She could definitely join him for warming up and drinking though. She followed his gesture starting to move with him, anywhere warm would do honestly. “I suppose, we could do that. I mean, I’ll drag you in and liquor you up so you can fill me in on all these stories of your exciting life. Clearly you’ve got secrets.”

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Of my 2% capacity to be attracted to anyone, my type is like 90% women, 5% pretty men and 5% men you would swear are super fucking manly, and never questioned being straight and cis, but are now suddenly *stressed* that they can't figure out why their attraction to me [fully socially interpreted as a woman and labelled that way up until relatively recently] feels incredibly fucking gay