#not because they don’t recognize them as important

[trippinsorrows]

midnight sun + two

authors note: really wasn't expecting the response and interest the first part received. thank you so much! 🥺 as previously stated, this is going to be heavy. please be mindful of your mental state before consuming this content.

words: 3.3k

warnings: angst, domestic violence, violence against women

song inspo: 'faithfully' by journey

one

It takes some digging. 

Requires blowing off some dust and the occasional angrily tossed objects, but he eventually finds it almost an hour into searching. The amount of time that could easily be used for other things, but none strike him as important as this. 

More dust has to be wiped off the box that he hasn’t seen or touched in over 15 years. 

Roman sits on the edge of the bed, careful with his movements, recognizing the fragility of the worn thing. Opened, there’s a strange feeling that settles over him seeing the contents, all drawings and artwork. But, it’s namely the largest item that lies at the bottom that evokes such emotions. Smaller pieces partially obscuring the view, slowly, his fingers move underneath it, gingerly pulling it out as he sets the box to the side and focuses on the item in hand.

A different time. A different person almost. Seeing the drawing of himself from that time in his life also brings up more confusing feelings.

Especially pertaining to the artist who created it for him. 

2003

Solitude has always been his companion, a preferred thing over most people in his life who don’t understand him. Who only mean him harm, pain, and betrayal.

That’s why one of the first things Roman did was confiscate and make the only loveseat in the common area his. A possession from day one that no one has seemed to question or challenge, largely because everyone knows why he’s here and subsequently don’t want to get on his bad side.

A smart decision.

It’s farther away from the rest of the seating options, another preferred thing that allows him to zone out with the help of the headphones over his ears. An escape. Isolation.

Solitude has been the only companion granted to him in this life. 

That and Rosalia. 

But, as she’s not an option anymore, so he settles for what remains.

Except, it’s short lived, because with expert peripheral vision, he’s witness to a scene unfolding. Roman doesn’t necessarily need to hit pause on his Walkman to see what’s going on, but he does it anyway. 

“Give it back!” Her voice is far too sweet, way too innocent. It makes him scowl. “Please!”

Roman directs more of his attention to the young girl he’s noticed in passing since his admission, the faded bruises on her face along with her bandaged wrists some of the first things to catch his attention.

It doesn’t take much to see why she’s there. 

She’s younger than him by almost four years at fourteen to his seventeen going on eighteen, but he also can’t ignore the fact that she looks older than what she is.

More developed than most girls her age.

And judging by the three pricks playing hot potato with her sketchbook, stupid looks on their equally stupid faces, he’d bet that’s why they’re messing with her. Sick enjoyment at the sight of her chest moving as she attempts to pry her book back. 

“Please!” She begs, and it only makes his scowl deepen. Her voice is annoying, but what’s more annoying is the fact that the fucking useless staff here are doing nothing to intervene. 

Not surprising though.

In Roman’s experience, adults don’t help out and protect children.

Just feed em’ to the wolves. 

Or are the wolves themselves. 

“You want it back?” One of them sneers, a haughty look on his pimpled face. “Show us your boobs.”

She freezes, terror rendering her still as she asks in a low voice, “w–what?”

“Yeah, show em!” 

“I bet they’re—”

Whatever was going to be said will never be known, it’ll never be known due to Roman decking the son of a bitch in the neck. The other dumbasses only further cement their stupidity by turning their glares onto him.

“You really fucked up.”

One goes to hit him, an easy dodge as Roman uses his elbow and rams it into the back of his head. The third is the most unlucky, Roman tossing him to the ground and pummelling him, a sick thrill filling him as he imagines someone else. 

Imagines it’s his piece of shit, abusive father underneath his unrelenting fist. Imagines it’s his blood spilling all over again, life fading from his pathetic body.

A sick fill, indeed. 

But, it’s short–lived, because security is yanking him off, yelling some shit at him that he doesn’t give two fucks about. 

“Get the fuck off me!” Roman overpowers the guards, sending them both to the floor and he moves to walk away, unsurprised that no one comes after him. Their goal was simply to separate and break up the fight, not penalize him for said altercation.

They know fucking better than to try that shit with him of all people.

The heir to the Bloodline Empire. An empire that now technically is already his with the “death” of his pussy of a father. 

A murder.

A murder done at his hands.

“Ummm.”

Roman has just sat back down on the sofa when he hears it again. That voice. Slightly less annoying but way too close. Because looking up, he sees she’s standing only a few feet away from him, hugging the sketchbook to her chest. 

And just like that, the scowl returns, “what the fuck do you want?”

She opens and closes her mouth, temporarily looking down almost in embarrassment. “I just….I wanted to say….thank you.”

Roman’s sneer falters just a bit. 

Thank you...

He can’t remember the last time someone other than his little sister uttered such words to him. 

If ever.

Confused as to whatever the fuck is coming up in him, he easily dismisses it and her. “Good. You said it. Now leave me the fuck alone.”

A glance at her face reveals a small frown that’s followed with her leaving  to walk away but not before she stops and turns around, a small, unsure smile replacing the frown. “I’m Solana, by the way.” He meets her gaze, warm locking with cold. “Solana Miller.”

And when she turns to walk away, it only makes sense he lets her do so. But, that’s not what happens. 

“Roman,” he’s offering for reasons unknown, weirdly settled in a sense by the return of her small smile. “Roman Reigns.”

—----

Present

Walking back into the coffee shop, it’s only then that Roman becomes more aware of just how much this place really does scream Solana. Soft, pastel colors make up the color schemes. Random artwork with color palettes that match the painting and positive quotes that match her.

It’s exactly the kind of place he’d expect to be hers. 

It’s when he walks over to the counter that he’s met with the one thing in here that is most definitely not Solana.

A young woman who looks like she either just walked out of a rave or satanic ceremony looks at him with icy blue eyes. Her black lips are curved into an almost mocking smile when she asks in an accented voice, “can I help you?”

Roman gives her a one over. She must be part of some damn work program. “Where’s Solana?”

The woman scoffs, crossing her surprisingly buff arms. It’s clear as day that she stays in the gym. “Why do you wanna know? I’m the manager. I can help you—”

“I don’t need you. I need Solana.”

He’s trying for the sake of not wanting to cause a scene at Solana’s place of business, but this Wednesday Adams looking bitch is really trying it. 

“How do you know her?” She suddenly asks, partially taking him by surprise. “I saw you here the other day talking to her. You two seemed…..friendly.”

It’s the fact that Roman didn’t notice this bitch that day as well as the fact that she’s snooping that has him putting her in her palace. “That’s none of your damn business.”

But, she doesn't cower away, instead metaphorically puffing out her chest. “Look, I know exactly who you are, and I don’t give a damn. Solana is one of my best friends. She’s already got one piece of shit man in her life. She doesn’t need any more.”

“You know her fiancé?” He asks, now interested in whatever information she might have. “Cody, right?”

She nods, a bitter expression on her face. “Unfortunately.”

Her response is very telling. “You don’t like him.”

The follow up answer is filled with an equal amount of disdain. “I don’t like any man who gets off on beating the shit out of women.”

It’s one thing to suspect, even know for oneself. But, it’s another to have it confirmed. Roman's fist forming at his side accompanies his clarifying question. “He hits her?”

She says nothing, and it’s then he picks up on the extent of her discomfort. She’s obviously unsure with how much to share and how much to withhold, even if she’s already shared more than expected.

“Look, Solana and I….” He fucking hates talking to people in general, especially about his personal life, but this woman clearly has information he needs to know. And while he’s certainly not above torture, it’s not the preferred route in this situation. “We were friends when we were younger, but we….we lost contact years ago.” He adds, voice genuine. “I have no intentions on hurting her.”

Never has. Never will.

“Solana won’t leave him,” she finally relents after a few minutes of silence. “She gets….defensive when you ask too many questions or try to call her out on all the bullshit excuses she makes for all the bruises and black eyes.” She shakes her head, a sudden sadness in her eyes. “He’s broken two of her ribs before, broke her nose, her her wrist, put her in casts. And she mostly chalks it up to bad falls.” Crossing her arms, she says in a quiet voice. “He’s going to kill her one day. I just….I just know it.”

When hell freezes over.

Imagining all the cruel and vile ways he’s going to dismember this son of a bitch, Roman inquires. “‘How the hell did they even get together?”

“She went to some fancy ass business owner thing about a year ago. They met there, and he pursued the hell out of her. At the time, she thought it was sweet. Looking back now, it’s obvious he was preying on her.”

Roman says nothing, taking in all of the information, something about that meeting, the fact that it was a business thing along with the name Cody, prompting him to ask. “Wait. Is her fiancé Cody Rhodes?”

She scoffs. “That’s him.” Roman looks away, cursing quietly. “Why?”

He remains silent, partially confused as to what Solana could have ever seen in someone like Cody but also now recognizing that killing him won’t be as easy as he initially thought.

Because Roman knew the moment he saw Solana react with so much fear just at the mention of this Cody person, that he was going to kill him. Further cemented with how jumpy she was.

 But, Cody Rhodes being the Cody in question massively fucking complicates things given the decades long truce between the Nightmare Factory and the Bloodline. The Factory doesn’t fuck with the Bloodline, and the Bloodline doesn’t fuck with Factory.

But, him killing Cody Rhodes, the fucking leader of the Nightmare Factory, will most definitely fuck with that truce. It’ll void it, thus starting a nasty, brutal war.

He can’t have that. 

The Bloodline can’t have that.

But, Roman also can’t have that bleached bitch beating on Solana. 

Or worse.

“I need to talk to her,” he announces, gaze on the woman who seems to be opening up more and more by the minute. “When is she scheduled to work again?”

Sighing, an answer is supplied that only pisses him off more. “She was supposed to come in today, but she called out sick.” Roman snarls. Sick, his ass. “She should be here tomorrow though. Works the evening shift.”

He nods, making a mental note to clear his schedule. “I’ll be here.”

She eyes him with skepticism. “Look, she’s got enough she’s dealing with. If you’re going to make things worse—”

“I’m not,” he interrupts, voice harsh, glare returning. 

And, she doesn’t back down. Doesn’t deter from a glare that would have most people cowering. One thing for certain, while Solana may be engaged to a monster, the woman before him is a different kind of monster. A useful one to have on her side. “Then what the hell are you going to do?”

Roman notices the tip drawer on the counter and pulls out his wallet, sliding a crisp hundred dollar bill and placing it in the jar. Returning his wallet back to his back pocket, he leans over just enough so he can answer in the calmest, eeriest voice.

“I’m going to rip Cody Rhodes apart limb by limb.”

—-----

His heavy, sweaty body plops down beside her, face up, his gaze on the ceiling. The sound of his loud, uneven breathing further exacerbates her discomfort, disgust filling her at the feel of his seed spilling out of her. 

Solana doesn’t hesitate to turn on her side, wanting nothing more than to get as far away from him as possible, to rush to the shower, to cleanse herself and scrub her body raw from the feel of him on her.

But, she knows how this goes. Knows that she has to wait for him to fall asleep before she can do that, has to ensure that he’s done.

And the minute she hears it, turns and sees that he’s in fact asleep, she peels the blanket off her naked body and makes her way to the bathroom.

Tempted to lock the door, it’s a declined decision knowing it will only wield a negative, painful outcome. 

Turning the knob and stepping under the hot water, Solana allows it to rain down on her body, soothing the lingering aches and pains from the most recent beating. She also doesn’t hesitate to take the shower head, angling it up to her vagina, doing her best to wash away his sperm. An unnecessary thing given the fact that she’s on birth control and always consistent with it, it just helps her feel better.

As best as one can feel in this situation. 

Standing under the comforting water until her body begins to prune up, Solana steps out, wraps a towel around herself and uses her hand to wipe the fogged mirror, providing a slightly cloudy view of herself. A view that immediately brings tears to her eyes. 

The bruises. The cuts. The internal injuries. The pain no one can see and only she can feel.

Tears streaming down her face, it’s impossible for her to not think of her. To not think of how she’s become the very same person she swore she would never be.

Her mother.

“God.” Solana jumps at the sound of his voice, naturally moving her hand to the knot on her towel that keeps her wet body hidden. He stands in the doorway, leaning, dressed in only boxers. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” Once a compliment that made her blush, it now only invokes nausea. “How much I love you?”

Another sickening thing, but not nearly as sickening as what she makes herself say next. “I—I love you, too.”

He makes a sound, walking over, Solana backing up when he tugs her to him, his hand gliding over her damp shoulder blade. “Say it again.”

A painful, tortuous thing. “I—I love you, Cody.” Delight fills his gaze, an infrequent but hopeful thing as she decides to take a risk, to shoot her shot in one of the few opportunities given. “B–baby?”

“Hmm?”

Her body naturally trembles as she powers through her fear and the terror that fills her being. “I was—I—I was wondering if…..if I could go visit my mom and sister.” He doesn’t say anything, but the movement of his finger ceases. “It’s just—I—I haven’t seen them in over a y—year, and she—my mom—I know she’s worried—”

“Solana, Solana, Solana.” And right then and there, she knows this was one of the worst things she could have ever done. “When will you learn?”

Before she can process what’s happening, before she can even fix her mouth to apologize, sheer pain courses through her body as he grabs her by her ear and slams the side of her face down on the bathroom counter. 

Her body crumbles to the floor as she feels the blood suddenly spilling from the side of her head. Cody crouches down in front of her, face turned almost animalistic, “do you think I’m fucking stupid!”

Crying, she shakes her head and attempts to keep the towel together. “No, no, of course—”

Solana cries out when he grabs her by her hair, pulling her to her feet, yanking her head back, one hand wrapped around her throat, restricting her breathing. “Do you think you can fucking try to leave me?”

She’s gasping, small fingers prying at his hand. An answer is practically impossible with the strength of his grip. 

“I own you! You understand me! You belong to me!” He shouts, once again slamming her face down on the counter. Solana is almost seeing stars, red liquid seeping down the middle of her face. “I fucking told you already. If you ever try to leave me, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them fucking both!”

Another painful reminder that matches the pain multiplying through her body at his brutal, vicious assault. An evil smile crosses his face as he stares at her through the mirror. “Or, maybe I’ll just kill that bitch mother of yours, huh? Kill her and sell that pretty sister of yours to the highest bidder.”

Solana’s eyes widen, her fear extrapolating as she cries harder. “Please—please don’t—”

“Shut up,” he roars. A stinging punch to her side that would have her doubled over if not for his returned grip to her hair. “If I have to ever remind you of this shit again, I’ll slice you up and feed your body to the fucking dogs!”

A promise followed by him tossing her to the floor and a final kick to her side. “Sleep in here, you ungrateful bitch. I don’t want to see your fucking face tonight.”

Solana jumps when he slaps the light off and slams the door shut. 

The silence and loneliness is welcomed, a rare safe space in her world that has in a matter of a year become anything but.

It was stupid, silly of her to even try to think that she could get away with such a thing. Even if she truly had no intentions of trying to escape. Never would. Not if it means the unspeakable horrors being done to her are extended to the two people she loves the most.

Or worse.

She just truly wanted to see her family. 

Wants to see her family. Her home. The place that carries so many good memories, memories that fade with each day spent in hell.

The tears continue to cascade over, the hollowness in her chest and soul expanding by the minute.

Legs pulled to her chest, a long forgotten tune from such a different almost as painful time in her life returns to the forefront of her mind. Conjoined with the contact name still sitting unused in her phone. 

Journey

Lyrics from a song shared with her from the most unlikely person spilling from her mind and out of her mouth.

“Just a small town girl….” Soft singing accompanies a heavy weight that nearly collapses her chest. “Livin' in a lonely world….” It’s the most she can get out before her sobs overwhelm her. 

Left alone in darkness, it’s hard for her to tell where the rooms’ begins and hers ends. 

[pippin-katz]

Voices We Don’t Hear

I was thinking about the scene in the cell down in Hell and wondering why it makes my heart clench so much even after having watched it so many times at this point, and I figured it out! It also led me noticing something in another scene that sticks out when it shows up. It’s the scene in the forest with Edwin and the Cat King.

It’s two lines of dialogue that I’m referring to: “This is all you are. Do you understand?” - Edwin from Ep. 6 “Hey, hey… let’s get you out of here.” - Charles from Ep. 7

These two lines have rare emotional tones for each of them. That sentence is a really bad way to say it, but I'll try to explain it.

We don't hear Charles speak in a soft voice often. He whispers down there in Hell and in Esther's kitchen, but I can't think of any other moments where Charles actually whispers. And there's something different about his voice in that line specifically. Because even though he's whispering, his voice is very clear and not breathy. With full whispering, the person's voice gets mostly obscured by that weird static-like/screen-filter that comes from talking that quietly, like Edwin's voice. (I have no idea how to describe what I'm talking about, but hopefully that's enough for you to understand lol)

So, even when Charles is speaking softly, it's not as quietly as he can. That line in particular is right after Edwin tells him what the demon does to him, and it's softer than all the others. And it's obvious why.

This is without a doubt the first time Charles has ever seen him like this: crying, small, scared, and so unlike himself. It's already heartbreaking. Then Edwin tells him about his torture, and he breaks down crying after managing to keep his most of his composure before.

If you look closely, Charles blinks a few times fast before he turns and cups Edwin's face. It's so dark and the lighting is so strange, but his eyes are shinier than they were previously. He forces himself to keep his focus on the task and being strong for Edwin, but he looks like he wants to cry.

Then he says that line so gently, so delicately while looking directly into his eyes while he holds his head between his hands. Charles voice is softer and a tiny bit strained from keeping his emotions in check.

It's the softest, most loving, and gentle moment of Charles in the entire show.

On the flipside, the line Edwin says to the Cat King is similar. Edwin definitely gets angry, frustrated, etc. and shouts and yells. But all of the people he yells at are people he has personal connections with, and the root of his distress comes from himself.

He yells at Crystal because he's having an anxiety attack after all the rapid changes to their routine, and bickers back and forth with her, but it's never truly malicious. He’s angry, but more importantly, he’s hurt. Crystal’s seeming lack of understanding of the weight of the importance is reminding him of how little people care. He snaps at Simon in Hell, but within minutes he calms down, recognizing how genuinely remorseful and ignorant Simon had been. He yells at Charles in a sort of angry-loving way on the staircase in Hell; he's not actually angry with him.

But in the forest, Edwin finds out that the boy he's been seeing and making friends with has been the familiar of the witch who wants to destroy them in disguise, and was pretending for at least some of their relationship. He also learns of all this because the Cat King exposes him rather than Monty confessing. He's hurt and angry, and then the Cat King pulls the "you owe me card" to try and get Edwin to kiss him even after all of the times he's rejected him.

He tells him off and goes to leave, but the comment the Cat King makes about dismissing him makes him turn around immediately. The way Edwin gets close to him, invading his space like he's done to him multiple times, and shoves the bracelet in front of his face.

There's real venom in his voice when he says the line. It's rough, gravelly, and it's obvious that Edwin has truly run out of patience for the Cat King's antics.

It is truly the angriest we see him in the show, at least from a standpoint of genuine anger toward someone he considers an adversary of some kind.

Edwin has no real relationship with the Cat King; he's basically his warden, the person who has trapped him in this town, and then treats him like he owns him. Given that it was a matter of diplomacy and caused by an error he made, he allowed the Cat King to have his fun to some extent, but in that forest, when he's just found out his new friend is actually a crow and there's a massive, ghost-eating mushroom monster threatening his and Charles' existence, he could not give less of a fuck about playing nice. He's frustrated and upset and stressed about so many different things all at once, and then this smug cat guy, who seems to think they're something more than a captor and his captive, has the audacity to say that Edwin owes him? Yeah, bye bitch! He is done.

I want to hear more of both of these versions of the two of them. I want to hear Edwin rip into an enemy, voice dripping with malice. I want to hear Charles comfort and reassure him (or anyone, but preferably Edwin) with that soft voice that is cherishing and gentle, treating him like something delicate that deserves to be handled with care after the universe has quite literally ripped him apart and crushed him.

(ko-fi)

[teatraps]

I don’t really know how to put this into words, but imma try. I feel like ppl focus a little too much on Ella and Mrs. Valden’s deaths as personal experiences. And what I mean by that is it feels like they sometimes get treated as the sole cause of any of Edgar’s troubles and worries while kinda skimming over Sarai’s abuse. And I mean actually breaking down all that Sarai’s abuse implies, not just jump cutting to when Edgar kills him. Granted I think that also comes with how idv’s storytelling works, no time for slow burn. There’s little mention of the trust Edgar did have for Sarai before Sarai started to become more blatantly abusive/exploitive which is part of what made his abuse all the more insidious.

Furthermore, I feel people treat what happened to Edgar too much like a personal tragedy. Like it was removed from everything else around him and the family deaths and Sarai’s abuse were just unfortunate events that just so happened to happen to Edgar. When in reality, at least based on what his 3rd letter is implying, all of those things happened BECAUSE of everything else around him. Ella’s death, Mrs. Valden’s death, Sarai being able to get away with abusing Edgar so long; all of that only happened because the culture of the aristocracy allows it. In Sarai’s case, even rewards it. The environment Edgar grew up in plays a major role in what led to the tragedies in Edgar’s life, but I feel it’s one of the more under talked about aspects of his character. He doesn’t just hate the aristocracy to hate it, he also recognizes that the aristocracy’s culture enabled basically every major bad event in his life.

That’s another reason why his 3rd letter is so important, it’s because it marks the point where he tries to get away from it. Killing Sarai was not the “fix-all” to Edgar’s problems, leaving the aristocracy was. This is why he still has art block even after killing Sarai. He’s still stuck with the same aristocracy either way. By not acknowledging the way Edgar’s environment was part of the reason things ended up the way they did, it makes his bitterness at the aristocracy seem unfounded and like he’s just angry at the other people around him for no good reason. It negatively affects a lot of his storytelling by not acknowledging this part since it’s not only the root of his problems, it’s also a key theme for game 5’s plot line. Everyone in that group is dealing with an unhealthy family situation which affects them in many different ways. This theme doesn’t hold up as well if Edgar’s example of this gets skipped over. And that’s not even covering how his example is arguably the MOST important because it’s the only portrayal to show cutting off the unhealthy family dynamic and trying to push forward past them.

I’m just kinda sick of Edgar’s disdain for the aristocracy being treated like a random add-on to his character and not a deliberate character choice made to further his and the overall narrative.

[littleshopofhorrors-confessions]

I'm gonna be honest the first time I saw the musical I really didn't like Orin. At the time I was watching dentist play out and I couldn't help but feel like they were really glorifying Audrey's abuser. I like him now of course but I'm kind of upset because now I can't remember anything about him from the production I saw.

~~~

[psychicthepsychic-daily]

hood is the ceo of “other people have it worse” /HJ

[camgoloud]

one small detail that stood out to me about this latest episode that i haven’t seen anyone else talking about yet is that when the commentators are calling colin “inspiring” and the “man of the match,” they are celebrating him not for actually scoring the goals himself, but for providing the crucial assists to make both of them happen. and i really love that because for me it’s the absolute perfect wrap to his character arc across all three seasons!

like, we know that colin’s job on this team has never been to score goals. in fact i’m pretty sure we’ve never heard about a single goal that he has scored. colin is and always has been a team player, not a star—and we’ve seen that crop up over and over. notably, we’ve seen the fact that he’s not entirely at peace with that crop up over and over: see the way he was affected by nate’s entire holidy-inn-painting monologue, being benched to make room for zava, etc.—like, this is the thing he’s sensitive about! this is where all of his insecurities come from!

but at the SAME TIME it’s also tied very intimately with all his struggles re: hiding his sexuality— “colin’s a chameleon,” etc. it’s fascinating because there’s SO much tension there between colin 1. feeling bad about the fact that he never stands out on the pitch the way some of his teammates do, because of who he is on the team, and 2. feeling like he CAN’T stand out, ever, because of Who He Is As A Person. etc. it’s like. he’s filling this role in the background. he’s afraid he’s not doing it well enough. he’s afraid that what and who he is isn’t good enough and isn’t worthy of recognition. he wishes he were someone different. trying to be someone different in the locker room is clearly making him so unhappy and stressed out. it is All Connected and my thoughts have been doing laps around it at an ever-increasing rate since i watched episode 2.07 ‘headspace’ if not before!

and all of this is why it’s so incredible to me that in the end, colin’s big moment comes from making assists and not goals! because on the one hand i understand the fandom desire for the colin post-coming out glowup that we all knew was coming—to see him, like, ~prove everybody wrong about him~ and inspire people by suddenly becoming a standout player and scoring goals left and right, even though that never used to be his role on the team before. and don’t get me wrong, i was 100% on board that train, and would have loved it for him if that was how it went down in the end, also. i think he should get to score here and there! as a treat! especially now that richmond are playing total football and there’s been so much emphasis placed on how it’s not just jamie/dani/occasionally sam who are making all the goals anymore!

but i don’t know! especially after the events of the last few episodes, there’s something very special to me about getting to see a colin who, rather than becoming someone entirely new in the moments right after coming out, just feels free to become, and be at peace with, the best version of the same self he’s always been. he’s still a team player first and foremost, but now that he’s not as weighed down by the need to chameleon/hide/pretend to be someone he’s not, he’s so much better at it. and everyone sees this! he gets to be celebrated for his contributions within the role he’s always played! he (and everybody else!) finally recognizes the value that he adds to the team just by being himself—fully himself! it resolves all the tension and insecurity that we’ve seen him struggling with this whole time, on every level. and so this moment was genuinely the perfect ending for his journey in my opinion—i’m so so happy that we were tall enough to join him on the ride here, and so excited to see what he does going forward these last few episodes now that some of that pressure is off him <3

[writerfae]

I don’t think I ever properly explained why the fair fae exist. I don’t know if it’s needed, but it could make a nice worldbuilding post maybe

[gothteddiesdotcom]

oh my god re: your recent post... the 'girl dinner' shit. omfg. idc if it's 'not that deep' you're still reinforcing terrible shit!!! and also the like 'boys when they see a stick/cool rock' and 'girls when they time travel vs boys when they time travel' wojaks. the gender-fication of barbie vs. oppenheimer. why the fuck is the recent internet zeitgeist hyper stereotypical cisnormativity. like. i thought we had collectively outgrown this.

exactly. And that’s all just some parts of it too. People pretend they’re so on top of things but it’s just because they don’t want to seem out of touch and offensive. It’s wild watching people barf out gender binaries with new terms and new ways to categorize trans people as not their gender and new ways to reinforce the same gender roles on ourselves but in “good” ways now. It’s just….really frustrating and pretty terrifying at the same time

[quietwingsinthesky]

the amount of time i spend thinking about Even carrying the metacrisis doctor’s fob watch is really quite disproportionate to how much ive fleshed out that part of the story in my head

[shame-kink]

one of the most important aspects to be learnt of being a political thinker online, a passive or active viewer of sociopolitical discourses and marginalization, is that just because you find someone to be “wrong” on a subject, have a bad take on a words definition or have shitty political/strategic takes, or just be fucking annoying to you personally, doesn’t make them stop being from the same marginalized group or group-of-groups as yourself. tragically sometimes a comrade-in-arms also just fucking sucks without it being a cishetero bourgeois psyop or a more-particularly-advantaged-yet-still-marginalized-group punching down. like there can be “self-hating” people from demographics actively trying to oppress said demographics but 9 times out of 10 Kaleb from My Discourses isn’t a Dennis Prager rubbing elbows with literal nazis he’s just that dipshit who thinks Judaism as a social category necessitates matrilineal affiliation (even though the people that actively hate Judaism as a social category don’t conceive of it as such). For example I mean.

this should really go without saying but good fucking god my own time in the ‘strangers with a word or two in common trying to kill each other online’ trenches neeeeded

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

every once in a while i remember that scott’s life series+empires characters being aro is not actually a hc that has occurred to most people and it really does throw me for a loop. there are very few characters where my personal hcs about their queerness so heavily affect how i analyze them but scott being aro really is a massive contributor to how i see his character and i see takes about him i agree w/ relatively frequently so i. forgot. this is at least partially because i have curated my dash well and rarely go into the tags but that is not the point.

[chewwytwee]

It’s crazy how much my school stumbles over itself to take the centrist position to everything but stays just clear of taking a side and making it clear they’re in support of their minority students 🙄🙄

[trevisos]

filing these under “lines that make xarrai feel extremely normal” as well.

[crepezinhos]

Men who you can easily control and convince of things if you use your nuclear bombs, also known as your boobs.

There he was, sitting in that chair and reading documents for the past 4 hours. It is midnight and he still refuses to go to bed because those documents were apparently ‘really important’ and due tomorrow. Although you recognize his hardworking spirit, sometimes he takes it too far.

That’s why you used your biggest weapon.

You flashed him.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I really need to—” That exact moment of him finally turning his face to stare you back was when you lifted up your shirt, making him paralyze immediately.

His face was stoned at a perfect angle where he could clearly see and appreciate your breathing boobs, his eyes getting dry from the lack of blinking.

“Don’t you think you’ve worked a lot today already? You need have good-quality sleep if you want to work well…” You decided to act extra mean to him and used your hand to squeeze them in their favorite way.

He kept staring at your boobs in silence for some awkward seconds.

…

…

…

“Ok.” He immediately dropped his pen and jumped out of his chair and launched his mouth towards one of your breasts, taking it like he has been starving for it for years now.

Good luck dealing with him now.

Diluc, Heizou, Tartaglia, Itto, Wanderer, Kaeya, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Capitano, Cyno, Sethos

[gilverrwrites]

I love imaging Dick, Tim, and Damian sneaking around trying to meet Jasons new gf because they just wanna be involved in his life and they know if they they leave it to Jay they wont meet her u til they're married with kids 😭

AND ‘omg us meeting Jason’s siblings when’

AN: Ngl I love this idea too, its so shitty of them but they have the best of intentions.

Damian

A boy no older than 14 with eyes that pierce the soul was not what you'd expected to find on Jason's couch the very first time he'd left you alone there. Jason had to dip out unexpectedly early, and had promised you run of the place until he got back so you'd slept in as long as you could and were on your way to make breakfast when you're greeted by the hell-child.

Once your initial fright wears off you realise you recognize him from a photo Jay had showed you which makes you feel slightly more at ease.

“Good morning? Damian right?” You offer as you pass him, be-lining for the coffee machine, you're gonna need caffeine if you're meeting any member of Jay's family for the first time. “Can I get you anything?”

“Alfred says it's unbecoming to sleep past 9.” Besides the initial glare he'd graced you with as you emerged from the bedroom, he doesn't even look up at you, his eyes glued to the pages of a book. Like brother like brother, you guess.

“Oh, well. Good thing Alfreds not here then.” You add a small laugh, trying to inject some humour to the situation. Damian does not respond in kind. “Is that a no? I think there's some chocolate cereal around here somewhere.”

“What do you do for work that allows you to be in my brother's home in the middle of the day?”

Jeez this kid is no-nonsense. “Or I could make pancakes, I make really good pancakes.”

“And tell me what exactly are your intentions with my baby brother?” Baby?

“I think there's some chocolate chips around here somewhere. Jason says you like chocolate. Chocolate pancakes?”

“Do you always avoid questions?”

“Are you always so intense?”

He slams the book closed and you nearly jump on the spot. He finally looks at you, really looks at you and as you stare back his features begin to soften slightly.

“I’ll have a coffee.”

You're certain from the sly look on his face that he's probably not allowed coffee. He certainly doesn't need any. But screw it, he's not your kid and if it gets him to like a little, you'll take the risk.

So you pour two coffees and join him on the couch. His questions do not cease until Jason returns about an hour later. He couldn't care less about the coffee, but he does care about Damian breaking in to interrogate his partner and immediately kicks Damian out.

Dick

Dick finds out about your existence from one of Damian’s letters, and he's subtle but pushy about meeting you. Not that you're aware. He keeps ‘dropping by’ Jason's apartment ‘just to see his lil brother’, no other reason but is told to get lost or downright ignored anytime you're there, until he decides to cut out the middle man and turn up at your home instead.

“Let me tell you, you are a hard person to get a hold of.” He informs as he invites himself through your front door.

“Um, hello Dick?” As you stare at his lush hair and sculpted abs you wonder what Alfred feeds these boys.

“Yep! I can't stay so I’ve gotta make this quick.” he gestures for you to come closer, speaking in a playful, conspiratorial whisper. “Jay doesn't know I'm here.”

That would be why he can't stay, Jason is due at your door any minute now.

“But you two seem to be getting pretty serious and I think it's important that we all get to know each other. You following?”

You nod, and he gives you the perkiest, most genuine smile. That or he has that exact look practised to a T. From what Jay tells you, either is possible.

“So, Barbara and I, that's my wife” You nod once more, you're aware of Barbara also. “have booked a table at Casa Gotica for Thursday night. We need you to get Jason there without letting on that it's a double date.”

“I don’t know.” you finally give your nodding head a break. “Jay and I don’t lie to each other.”

“Right. I can't begrudge that. Very glad to hear he's picked an honest one.” He takes a moment to straighten his thoughts, but his moment is cut short but the echo of Jason’s combat boots approaching your door. Dick’s eyes rapidly scan the room for a secondary exit before he settles on an open window. “Don't think of it as lying, think of it as omitting the truth. Whatever you have to do just be there for 6.30. Oh, and it's great to meet you!”

“You too.”

“Thursday, 6.30!”

Before you can agree he’s gone, presumably scaling the side of your building as Jay steps inside.

Tim

Tim was actually the first to be aware of you and your relationship with his brother, however, the very real possibility of being gutted by Jason for snooping in his personal life was too high for him to make a move.

But you seeking him out is a different story; or rather, you being the first to say hi when you bump into each other in line at the grocery store is different. It would be rude not to respond to your attempts at initiating a conversation.

“Hello, hi, are you Tim? You don't know me but I’m Jasons partner. Its so great to meet you.”

“I know who you are.” He states rather ominously, eyes darting around behind you. “Is he here?”

“No, but he's picking me up after.” His shoulders visibly ease.

“Cool cool cool.” He’s suddenly much more personable. “So, I hear you're into…”

That chatting doesn't dry or lul at all as the queue dwindles and both buy your groceries. He waits with you until you get confirmation from Jay that he's on his way. He's easily the chillest sibling you've met thus far.

When Jason arrives he gets out of the car to open the boot and passenger door for you as always, but not before he thrusts his phone in your face. “Where is he?”

Displayed on the screen is a selfie of Tim with you in the background, you absolutely do not remember it being taken.

[nope-body]

.