#so that people finally Get that they're good!!

[verysadlesbian]

Now that I have sat with my thoughts for a couple of days, I want to talk about some things:

There are too many people trying to defend Caitlyn's actions, so I have to say: NOTHING, and I mean absolutely nothing, justifies fascism. "Oh but she's grieving and blahblahblah" you know who else was grieving?! The mother of the kid Jayce killed in season 1. You know who else?! Vi and Powder that saw enforcers murder their parents, just like many other children from Zaun. Caitlyn destroyed her mother's legacy in the police brutality™️ operation, you understand how fucked up this is? Her mother's recording is saying "the people from Zaun deserve to breathe," and she did it anyways. If you sympathise with Piltover, you're either part of the problem or naïve enough to fall for fascist propaganda.

Ekko is the only real one. Not a single slightly evil bone in his body. Everything he does, he does for his people, not in a persuit of power, or revenge. He's genuinely good, so much so that he's willing to hang out with not only Heimerdinger, but also Jayce just so he could protect his community. He deserves so much better and I'll be heartbroken when he finds out that Vi was involved in Caitlyn's operation.

I don't know how Vi can forgive Caitlyn after what happened. I know I wouldn't. It just goes to show that you cannot trust that privileged people are going to be different just cause they were nice to you. Viktor found that out in season 1 and Vi is finding this out now.

Do you guys think the black rose is gonna pretend to be Mel?! I don't play LOL, but it is to my understanding that the black rose can make clones, so it'd be obvious that they're gonna take Mel's identity

Saw some people on twitter and tiktok (of course they were there) denying that jayvik has heavy romantic undertones by stating "they're friends! They're like brothers! Why everything has to be gay now?" and EVERYTHING HAS TO BE GAY CAUSE I SAID SO, NOW SHUT UP! But seriously though, I understand that to cishet viewers, their relationship might seem strictly platonic, 'cause they lack the eye that we, queer people, have for these things. And that's okay. Not everyone needs to understand the nuances of a homoerotic friendship. But in the same breath, they're quick to say that "Viktor was thinking about Sky, so obviously he's straight" and that pissed me off, cause: 1 - have you looked at him?; 2 - He feels responsible for her death (cause he was)! He's thinking about her because he feels GUILTY! that man was not interested in Sky whatsoever; 3 - it's so heteronormative to think that a man and a woman can't be friends, they're so adamant in denying jayvik cause "they're friends!" but they do the same fucking thing!; and finally 4 - HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM???

Anyone that sides with Piltover would probably be a zionist as well. I don't have to explain this.

The trio "Sevika, Jinx and Isha" is probably my favourite thing in Act 1, I just can't get enough of them.

[auclairedetoru]

“This has been y/n and Satoru, thank you so much for watching, bye!”

The moment they reached the greenroom, y/n's smile drops. God, her cheeks hurt, nobody talks about how hard it is to fake a smile all day, it's like a workout for your face except you gain nothing at the end.

Her co-star walks in behind her, a cocky smile on his face. If she was him she would get tired of herself. How can someone be so egoistic? He loves himself more than his own mother loves him. Every second she's in his presence, she feels herself losing brain cells and getting gray hair, and as much as she loves silver locks on other women, she does not want the cause of it to be Gojo Satoru.

“Great job today, everyone! Y/n you could've been a little more cheerful toda-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

She plops down on the sofa and rests her head against the back of it. They still have one more interview left to do, so she's forced to tolerate that dumbass for a couple more hours, and it's a recorded one so she has to pretend she likes him too.

Why did she choose to become an actress again?

Right, childhood dream, worked hard for it, blah blah blah.

“Whoa! Careful there, tiger! Someone might be filming and you don't want to ruin the season before it even starts.” Gojo smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as he continues to push her buttons.

The people in charge decided to promote the filming of the new season of their show to remind people of it and get them excited, not that anyone was able to forget the last two seasons. According to the statistics, people love a slow burn story, especially when it stretches over multiple seasons. Yes, that does mean y/n has been stuck with Gojo as her co-star for three years now, as known as the longest three years of her life. Everyone around her tells her that time is passing by too fast, but it's been the opposite for her.

She's dreading this season the most. It might be the last, but it means the story will finally reach its long-awaited climax, which means her character and Gojo's will become more than friendly.

She doesn't even want to think about it.

“Leave her alone, Satoru. You still have one interview left.” his manager scolded him making the bright blue eyed man pout like a four year old not getting the candy he wanted.

The fact Gojo and y/n can't stand each other is something known only between them and their close staff, not even the director and producers know that the "chemistry" between them is something they make up on the spot and doesn't come naturally at all. They're surprised no one has figured out they don't like each other in any way, but y/n takes that as a compliment because it means that she's a really good actress who has perfected her craft and is able to fake getting along with a menace like him.

After touch ups, she goes to where the interview is being held, greeting the staff on her way and telling them she's excited to be working with them. Gojo smirks at her from his seat as she makes her way to sit on hers next to him. She mirrored him to keep up with the "we're best friends behind the scenes" thing they somehow built for themselves.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Can't a man admire his friend and co-star?” he teases, milking the hell out of the act they put on for the camera. Y/n wanted to roll her eyes but instead she forces out a laugh and takes her seat.

She ignores the way her heart flutters at his words. No need to focus on that.

A few months into filming...

“Alright, everyone!” the director calls out as he claps his hands, “Cameras rolling, sound is up, let's do this.”

Ah yes, the most important scene of the entire franchise. The first kiss scene. This is what the show has been leading up to, this is the moment everyone has been waiting for, this is the thing y/n has been looking forward to the least, in fact, she has not been looking forward to it at all, she wishes it wouldn't happen.

The scene takes place at her character's apartment, a place the set design team has made so cozy looking she wishes she could curl up and take a nap on the couch. Gojo's character is her coworker and he's coming to check on her because she disappeared from the office party after seeing him flirt with someone. That's when she confesses that she's been pinning over him for years and he confesses back before pulling her into a kiss.

“Okay you two,” the director looks at them, “not to put you in any pressure, but this is the most important scene of the entire show. All your hard work has led up to this moment. Satoru, you're the one leading the kiss, remember that she's very vulnerable and heartbroken, so you need to be gentle and soft, she's the person you love most so you're gonna handle her with the most care. Alright? Here we go!”

The apartment door closes between y/n and Gojo as the clapper loader steps in and holds the slate in front of the camera, “episode 11, scene 45, take 1!” they call out before snapping the clapper shut and stepping back.

The director pauses, glancing around one more time to make sure everyone is ready.

"And... Action!”

Y/n steps into character and hesitantly opens the door. Her expression shifts to shock as she sees Gojo standing across from her, hair and clothes disheveled. “What are you doing here?” her voice is a mix between surprise and hurt, just as the script calls for and just as they rehearsed. Gojo's eyes soften, exactly how he was instructed.

Yes, she can't stand him, but that doesn't mean she won't admit that he's really good at his job. He's not one of the most sought out actors for no reason.

“I was worried about you, you left so abruptly.” he says, letting his eyes dance all over her face only to catch her wet cheeks and red eyes, and no, it isn't makeup and fake tears, she spent half an hour before filming started watching "soldiers reuniting with their dogs" videos to get to that point.

He moves to cup her cheek, but just as scripted, she steps back, her expression flattering. She starts to remind herself of things that make her emotional to start tearing up, “I-I'm fine, you can leave.”

Gojo stares at her a bit longer than he's supposed to, but she blames it on his love to suddenly improve, and not that he's admiring her or anything, not like she wants him to admire her, that would be crazy on her part.

"You don't have to hide from me," he says with the same soft tone.

She tries to hold back the tears to keep up the strong and always optimistic personality her character is known for, and after a moment she allows a couple to flow down her cheeks. Gojo's face morphs into a concerned expression.

“I don't like seeing you with someone else,” she mumbles, her voice breaking with every word that slips out of her lips, “it hurts me, right here,” she taps on her chest with a shaky hand.

Gojo's eyes widen to feign surprise, a perfect mix of confusion and disbelief on his face, playing the oblivious character to perfection, “you... You like me?”

“For the longest time,” she sniffs, her voice thick with emotion as she starts opening up, “I held back, I tried not to make it obvious, but i can't anymore.” She drops an octave to deliver the last line, showing as much vulnerability and pain as possible.

There’s a pause, and everyone on set is on the edge of their seat. They could feel the tension between them, the two playing their roles better than what everyone imagined from reading the script. Gojo goes to take a step closer, stopping half way.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice shaking to show that his character is feeling nervous. The director looks intensely between the scene in front of him and the one on the screen, making sure that the intensity they feel in the room is accurate on camera to what's happening in real life.

It's her turn for her to be surprised, playing unsure and hesitant, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth, “w-what?”, her voice trembles as her eyes search his face like she's trying to find any uncertainties.

“can I kiss you? Please?”

Gojo takes the step forward. His voice is soft and his gaze holds hers, intense yet tender, leaving no doubt that his character has been lounging for this and wanting it for just as long if not longer than her.

Y/n takes a deep breath. This is it, she's about to kiss Gojo Satoru, the person she despises the most. She hopes it won't be awkward, the scene was going smoothly and the last thing she wants is a retake from the top, she also doesn't want to embarrass herself in front of the whole crew and become the topic of their gossip.

After a small pause, just as instructed by the director, she gives Gojo a small nod. Gently, and hesitantly, he cups her cheek as he brings his face closer to her. The nervousness on her face is mostly real and she doesn't know why she's feeling that way, she wants the scene to end already.

The moment their lips touch, something surged within Satoru and his free hand quickly grabs her waist to pull her closer to him. Did she always smell so... Devine? Why are her lips so soft? Is her lip balm candy flavoured? Why does she taste so sweet? Why can't he pull away from her?

The kiss is supposed to be gentle, a tender moment of affection, yet the way his hand was gripping the pajama top she's wearing betrays his character's intentions. But the way his thumb caresses her cheek is the opposite, grazing the warm skin softly like he's handling a little kitten. He knows he’s supposed to pull away now. He wants to. He needs to, for the sake of this scene. But something holds him there and it's making him not care about the script anymore.

It’s only when he feels a gentle squeeze on his arm that he finally pulls back. He looks down at Y/n, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss, her wide eyes bright with a spark that stirs something deep within him, making him want to lean down and kiss her again.

“cut !”

The pair jumped away from each other. They both forgot they were on a set, filming a show, and not in the comfort of their own homes.

“that was just... Wow,” the director shakes his head with a smile, “Satoru you went a little out of what I told you with the kiss, huh?”

“yeah, sorry,” he smirks with fake confidence, acting like his heart isn't beating faster than a racing car, “I just thought the moment needed that intensity, ya know? He's been waiting to kiss her for so long after all.”

“No I agree, you did the right thing. Go ahead and take five, everyone. This is one of those rare times when there's no need to do multiple takes, the first was perfect.”

Y/n lets out a breath she didn't realise she was holding and quickly leaves to go grab a water and get some fresh air. She can't believe what just happened. That was definitely not a normal kiss, it felt too real. What was Gojo thinking!? Why didn't he stick to the script and kept it short? And why did she like it so much? She's not supposed to! She's supposed to hate him and everything he does.

“Y/n? Can we talk in your trailer, please?”

Fuck... Please don't let that be Gojo, please let her ears be mistaken and it's not his voice asking her to talk in private, please-

She turns around, and it's him. He stands there, hands tucked into his pockets, looking a little... Shy? Since when does Gojo Satoru feel anything less than bold and confident? There's an unusual softness to his expression, one she only sees when he's playing his character, but without the little voice in the back of her head reminding her that he's just acting.

Despite not wanting to talk to him, she still nods and follows him to her trailer that wasn't parked far away from where they stood. She lets him in first and closes the door behind her to ensure no one can hear whatever they're about to talk about.

As they stood across from each other, Gojo's eyes dart everywhere except to her face, something he has never done before. His usual bravado is gone and replaced with an unusual hesitance. She watches him with a puzzled look on her face. Why is he acting so out of character? It's as if he's nervous to talk to her.

Eventually though, he opens his mouth.

“I apologize for going out of script during the kiss. I didn't plan it to happen and I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

Now he's apologising? Okay, something is definitely wrong. Gojo has never apologised to her in the three years they've been working together. She is starting to feel nervous herself.

“It's okay, really,” she crosses her arms across her chest, “like you explained to the director, it's what you felt the scene needed, and I respect you as an experienced actor to know what you're doing.”

“That wasn't my reason, though.”

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her skull. Huh?!

“what ?”

He takes a step closer to her, a look on his face she couldn't describe, “that's just a lie I made up on the spot. I felt a pull when our lips touched, I don't know what happened to me and it's driving me mad,” he runs a hand through his hair, a habit his manager told her he does when he's anxious, “I couldn't stop myself, so I just let whatever it is take over, but I still couldn't stop, I tried but I just couldn't pull away and I— I want to kiss you again! I want to kiss you right now!”

“Gojo, calm do-” her words fall on deaf ears.

“No! You don't understand! I want to kiss you, but you hate me! You can't even look at me without being disgusted, and I keep making it worse! I keep showing the worst version of myself around you and it makes you hate me more and-”

“Gojo! Stop!”

The look on his face is breaking her heart. He seems so desperate, struggling to put his feelings into words, but every attempt only makes him more anxious, his words stumbling over each other as he tries to make her understand.

“I don't hate you, Satoru”, his heart flutters at the sound of his first name coming out of her lips. Even in interviews, she always used his last name, this is the first time he hears her call him Satoru, “I hate how you act when we're together behind the scenes. You're always so sweet to everyone but I'm always the one you tease, and sometimes your teasing hurts.”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just- I've liked you, as a person, before we even started working together, and I treated you how I treated my close friends. I didn't realise I was overstepping boundaries.”

Why is it so easy to forgive him? It must be something to do with the blue I'm his eyes, it holds some sort of spell that makes everyone want to be on his good side.

“It's okay, as long as you own up to your mistakes and don't repeat them, I'm willing to see past it all and start new.”

A huge smile takes over his face, content with her answer. He is so happy, he's been wanting to do this for so long. He knew he wronged her and needed to apologise for his actions, but he never knew how to approach it.

Without warning her, he lifts her up in a hug. A squeal left her lips followed by a melodic laugh as she hears him thank her over and over again. She allows herself to enjoy the warmth of his hug. His fans didn't lie, he is really good at them.

He pulls away enough to look at her face without unwrapping his arms from around her, “Can we start new by allowing me to take you on a date? I promise I'll treat you like the princess you are.”

She feels her cheeks heating up with a blush as she nods, unable to hide the small, shy smile tugging at her lips. Gojo grins wider, his eyes lighting up with an unmistakable spark of excitement and something tender, “can I kiss you again? Please?”

She barely finishes nodding before his lips are on hers. He’s smiling into the kiss, unable to hide the joy bubbling up inside him as he realizes his newfound feelings are reciprocated.

And yeah, she did like him more than she let on. The small crush she had on him before they met definitely didn't disappear like she thought it did, instead it stayed hidden away and came back out when she felt his lips for the first time.

She never expected this nor planned on letting herself fall for The Gojo Satoru Charm™, but with him here, holding her close, and pressing a kiss filled with passion on her lips, she realises maybe, just maybe, she’s been wanting this all along.

The ending looked way better in my daydream lol. Hope y'all liked it still 💕

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - FINAL PART - Bonus

"Let me see"

You mentioned while laughing, sitting in front of the man who looked at you affectionately as you touched his face and observed him attentively.

"Your eye looks a bit red... Have you been using the drops the doctor recommended?"

Curly: "Maybe... I forgot them... today"

His voice was still somewhat strange to hear, it had the essence of what his voice once was, but much rougher and it was difficult for him to say long sentences, he had to pause between words to be able to say them.

You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, seeing the scars on his face.

At first, it wasn't the same skin you knew; you were surprised at how his body returned to that familiar skin, changing its texture, gradually becoming the skin you love to touch.

You noticed the ring hanging from his neck, with the lack of hands, he wore his ring that way to keep it close.

He had to convince you to give him back his ring, but at that moment you were in crisis because you had told him that the day you took it off, you would leave him. Although you reached an agreement to annul that promise.

Five years had already passed since you returned to Earth, and too many things had happened.

On your side, you started following your dream when you were little, and today you have your own bakery.

But it was hard work getting here, because the first thing you worried about was your husband's well-being, who spent half a year resting in the hospital, and then you had to take care of him with attention at home.

Pony Express decided to give you a percentage of your salary and a bonus for the damages they suffered, so with that money, they performed the man's first surgeries.

A skin graft, hair, and facial reconstruction, among others, over the next two years.

He used prosthetics that helped him walk and pick things up on his own, although just in case, you still had his wheelchair as a backup, which he refuses to use again, and when you're not watching, he tries to get rid of it, but you've locked the room where it is.

You even adopted two dogs, the first was Jupiter, a Labrador, a service dog who helps Curly when you're not around, and he's also a very good companion.

And after insisting for so long that Jupiter needed a little sibbling, you adopted Sunset, a dog you had found outside your bakery begging for food, a golden retriever who had escaped from her home, where it seemed they only used her to have puppies and sell them because she was purebred.

Both animals got along well right away, both quite calm, they don't cause any problems.

On the other hand, you stayed in touch with the rest of the crew.

Anya was able to get into medical school a few months after returning, and she is currently in her final year to receive her diploma.

Swansea retired and stayed at home with his family and children, being welcomed by his wife and the little girl she had had a few months ago.

Daisuke tried again with the art school, giving his all and with the support of his parents, he was able to get in. He even has a blog where he talks about the experiences he had in his life to motivate other young people to follow what they love.

Jimmy on the other hand... The last thing you heard about him was that his sentence was extended further for causing conflicts during his time in prison.

As for the little baby... you found out she was adopted by a good family, and that was all you needed to know about her.

Curly: "They're already... about to arrive"

He alerted when he heard Sunset start barking upon hearing a car park nearby.

He got out of bed and went outside to open the door and let his friends into the yard.

There was something that became a tradition among you, every year you celebrated the anniversary of the day you returned alive to Earth after such an experience, having a meal at your home.

Daisuke: "Who is the cutest girl! Let me pet you, fluffball!"

The boy, every time he went, was determined to make Sunset his friend, but she always ended up hiding where he couldn't reach her.

Anya: "Today is a wonderful day... And the food smells really good, every year they surpass the previous year's food, it's incredible."

Swansea: "Not bad, huh! Did you make this grill by yourself, Curly? The meat looks incredible."

Daisuke: "Where is (Yn)?? I want to greet her!"

He had managed to catch the dog, who was resigned in his arms while Jupiter was barking at Daisuke, knowing how upset Sunset was.

Curly: "She has... a surprise for... all of you."

He said, smiling, waiting for you to come out in the summer dress he had bought for you, quite loose and comfortable, perfect for your growing belly. 

Everyone was surprised to see you, Daisuke was left speechless, dropping Sunset.

Daisuke: "But! You said-!"

"Well, not naturally—but... I was given the opportunity to do it in vitro and it was a success! I was afraid it wouldn't work because of my eggs, but... after several failed attempts... we finally got very lucky."

You caressed your belly, smiling.

Swansea: "Look at that... Congratulations, kid!"

Anya: "That's wonderful! Oh my God, how many weeks are you now? Do you already know their gender? Why didn't you tell us anything?"

She approached to touch your belly, happy that you have achieved what you wanted so much.

"I'm already in my 29th week... And we already know it's a boy! We were deciding on a name!"

Daisuke: "I have a really cool one!"

"I'm not going to call him Daisuke."

The boy let out a disappointed "aaaw" that you weren't going to consider his name for your son.

Curly: "We thought... of Charles"

"That I'm still not at all in agreement with that name."

You pointed at him, making him laugh and roll his eye.

Anya: "You still have time! When is your due date? I would like to be with you when it happens."

Daisuke: "Can I be there too? Maybe the second time I won't faint, hehe."

Swansea: "I wish you the best, boys are not difficult to entertain, they are difficult to keep alive, they love danger even after reaching adulthood."

You felt very excited about all the support you were receiving, happy to have met such wonderful people.

You didn't regret at all for having done everything possible to get them out of that situation.

The gathering continued with everyone eating and talking about the things they had been doing lately, catching up on their activities, until dessert time arrived, everyone's favorite moment.

Curly: "The best sweets... are from my wife..."

Swansea: "You don't even like sweets!"

Curly couldn't help but smile anyway when he saw everyone enthusiastically eating the ice cream cake you had made for that hot day, while he had his own special portion that you prepared for him so he could eat without too much sweetness.

You couldn't resist feeding him, and even though he wanted to seem annoyed, he adored the attention you gave him.

"Oops~ I'm sorry~ I stained your cheek"

You said with a smile to kiss his cheek, you started smearing hkd face with the dessert and left kisses on all those spots.

Swansea: "Get a room!"

Daisuke: "...Did you ever do it on the ship while working?"

"DAISUKE!"

You shouted with your cheeks red at such a true thing that had been said.

Curly: "...Two or three times..."

Swansea: "That's nothing, you managed to control themselves quite well."

Curly: "....During the week"

"Can I send it back into space?"

You didn't know how to hide your face in response to his declaration, you were extremely embarrassed.

But you had no escape, from the day you said yes, that man was going to stay with you until the end of his days.

And you knew well that he is going to be an incredible father soon as well.

In the end, everyone was able to have their well-deserved fate.

[macgyvermedical]

Moving vs Fleeing (and what you need to flee)

I was on a call last night with a very reputable LGBTQ+ organization in my state that discussed the difference between moving and fleeing.

Essentially, moving is planned. You get an apartment and a job in another city- hopefully you visit that city to scope it out. Then you move your life. It takes, at minimum, months.

Fleeing is unplanned. Something is happening that is so bad in your area that you have to cut and run. It may not be police at your door. But it might be legislation that prevents you from using restrooms without the risk of being killed or arrested. It might be lack of access to medications and something that makes it illegal to get those medications in a different state. It might be the classification of your life (as someone gay or tans) as a sex crime, and sex crimes being punishable by death (a goal of project 2025).

And, they recommended, get things together before it gets to that point, even if you aren't sure that it will happen, so fleeing is as easy as possible if you need to do it.

Here's what you can do:

Pick a location you can get to either by bus, train, or car that has a good track record for your needs and that you think you could live. Do your research- are there jobs there in your field? Housing?

Then get yourself a bag or large backpack.

Get a file folder and put your documents in it. I mean things like your passport, your birth certificate, your social security card, copies of any professional licenses you have, a checkbook, name change documentation, copies of financial documents like mortgages, copies of insurance cards and policies, copies of marriage licenses, and a copy of your driver's license. These are things you might need if you have to prove your identity or get a job or apartment. Then print out maps of several routes to your destination. Put the file folder in the bag.

Add to that: a couple of changes of clothes for each person including a hat and a cloth or disposable face covering (people don't question them as much since the pandemic, and they're convenient to hide your face). Lightweight, caloric foods for at least 3 days that don't require cooking (protein bars work great for this). A month of medications and an emergency script for each medication for each person (get a paper prescription from your doctor that is good for a year or the max allowed for each medication) if you can get it. Pay out of pocket with a coupon card if your insurance won't cover your refill early. 1-2 containers of baby wipes so you don't necessarily need to shower. An empty water bottle for each person. A phone charger.

Buy a gift card that can be used for anything. I won't say how much because I don't know your situation, but make it enough that you can pay for gas or bus/train/airline tickets to your destination and (if you can) temporary lodging/food once you get there. Gift cards are less traceable than debit/credit cards and aren't easy to cancel. An alternative is cash, but that can be an easier target for theft if people see you with it.

Finally, bring something of comfort, like a blanket or memento or stuffed animal.

[chicinlicin]

i like this way of distinguishing the two! i was having trouble trying to think of a good way to summarise it ha

they're very similar concepts and can be interchangeable but yeah i like defining copying as aiming for accuracy and referencing as interpretation. it's pretty much intent, what you are referencing, and how transformative is the final work.

these are also just my own definitions for the purposes of the guide, i've been wanting to make an updated one because i feel like i get a bit too hard with some definitions when everything is very grey. like i mostly included this distinction because i remembered cases of art theft where the work wasn't traced but so heavily copied to the point it looked traced. but copying can also be like a meme redraw or art study. it's neither good or bad. it's all transparency, people are more likely to know you're not the source of a meme or famous artwork vs copying from a small artist.

it’s time to trace~!

heads up. the charts in the middle are very rough guides. everything about copying is super grey, you need to use your own judgement…also I have more notes

Keep reading

[ghostieblr]

he knows

When people ask him what changed his mind, why he's back in Beacon Hills instead of at the fancy FBI job he earned through merit and luck, he just smiles and laughs it up. Insists this is how it just worked out. That the job was good, and being in the field was surprisingly easy for him, but the remote research work landed on his lap once and he realized he'd much rather do that. Working the field was great, but being able to actually spend time with his old man gives him more joy.

The old ladies call him a good man, tell him he's such a good son, and share their own turmoils with him. The old men sneer at his choice until he lets slip just how much he makes, and then they're singing praises, too.

After a couple of weeks, the noise dies down. He is no longer the novelty, the townspeople ready to move on to the next new, shiny thing that catches their attention.

What doesn't die down is whatever is spreading inside him. The burn under his skin is licking up towards his heart, coming out through his pores, charring him to immobility as the sun dips down and comes back up.

After week three, he's unable to move from the bed, and none of their research is bringing about any clues. No one knows why this is happening to him, and they have all accepted this.

That he is going to die. There's no coming back, no cure for this sudden illness that has taken him. None of the books that Deaton provides, that Lydia translates and pours her time into, have a single clue.

It's not as painful, if he's honest. Not now. It was at the beginning, the heat sudden and startling, the pain that comes with it bright and unending. But he's been with it for a while now, gotten used to the constant warmth. A false sense of security.

The only thing left for him is to stop feeling altogether. At the rate his body is shutting down, it's not too far, now. Another day or two, maybe three if he's unlucky.

He's said his goodbyes. Told his father to keep on living, to not only honor the memory of mom, but his, too. There's grief laced in each of their interactions, each word spoken with a weight that brings tears to Stiles' eyes and a tremble that rocks his father's body. It's an ugly sight, and it so happens to be his last. Nearly his last.

His dad's a strong man, he'll survive. He's enlisted the help of Lydia to do so. Asked her to be the child he'll not get to be for him. Through teary eyes she had agreed, and he's watched the two of them get closer in their quest of trying to heal him, and then grieve him. She's like the daughter he never had, and she is good for him. Stops him from drinking alcohol and makes him healthy food, even when he refuses to listen, and Stiles can do nothing but lay on his bed as the voices float up from the kitchen.

Scott and him never did resolve their differences. Scott's been a part of his life enough to warrant him a last goodbye, and despite everything that has happened, Scott promised to him to be there for his dad. He promised many things, but has delivered none, and has only been by to see him on day one — when Stiles had allowed Lydia to bring in the McCall Pack to help him cure himself.

It's as if Stiles being dead was an accepted outcome for him, and Scott has grieved him to the point of utter indifference since. If he's grieving in silence that's another thing, but for now, Stiles isn't dead. People do come in and see him.

Lydia, of course. His dad. Jackson flew from London to come see him, and he hasn't left since, feet set like stone in Beacon Hills, despite the final acceptance of their failure. Isaac came with Jackson, and it's so silly, he thinks, that being on the verge of death can bring together people you would never see in one place by choice.

Kira has stopped by multiple times, as have Malia, Liam, Mason, Jordan, and surprisingly, Hayden. She insisted he's a hero, and cried while hugging him.

Scott hasn't come again. And, honestly, it's not as bothersome to Stiles as someone else not coming in to see him.

Cora has face-timed him, and Peter was there, he knows. The two of them were there, and when he'd asked about Derek, Cora had snapped out, "He's an idiot," while Peter had calmly told Stiles, "He's determined."

Stiles is smart enough to put together the fact that Derek has been pursuing his own leads to find the cure, but he'd hoped that once the finality of his situation reached him, he'd see Derek one last time.

He wouldn't burden Derek with the knowledge of his own feelings. Wouldn't confess like in the fairytales, and hope for a true love's miracle. Stiles is honest to himself these days, and he'd rather go with unconfessed feelings than burden Derek, because somewhere in their interactions, Stiles has developed a pure hatred for anything that could even remotely hurt Derek.

He supposes this is love, and how ironic is it, that this is the most intense feeling he's ever had, and he can't even speak aloud about it?

So he lounges in his bed, waiting for the light to take him. Each time he closes his eyes he knows he's closer to never opening them again, and tonight, as he hears Lydia turn the pages of a book, and Jackson walking outside in the hallway, and his dad sobbing in his own room, and Isaac cooking, he just wishes tonight's the night. He cannot have the people he care about clinging onto false hope.

He closes his eyes, and behind his eyelids, he sees his family. He sees his mom, beckoning him; his parents, smiling, as he runs towards them for a family hug; Lydia, when she told him she loves him in the Jeep, and the night when he came back, declaring that he's not supposed to leave her, ever; Jackson and Isaac laughing at his expense, but not in a mean way, instead enjoying each other's company like the friends they've become these days; Derek, as the last time Stiles saw him, smiling softly at him while he rambled on about the way he convinced the FBI to let him join the mission that saved Derek's ass.

He remembers, with immense clarity, the moment he realized he's in love with Derek. The heartbreak of saying goodbye to him, of watching his brows furrow at the clear lie of, "You should go," and hesitant step forward he'd taken before realizing it.

He'd said, "You should go or Cora will leave," and left the, "I want her to," unsaid.

He sleeps, and wishes to dream about a world where Derek didn't leave and things happened differently. Where somehow, they found their way to each other, and Stiles never got ill like this.

Instead, he dreams about a purple light guiding him to a tunnel that simply looks white, like that is all there is.

He follows.

He doesn't wake up, again.

At least, that's what he thinks — until his eyes open and he's face-to-face with —

"Derek?"

*

The whole place is white. The only splash of color exists on Stiles himself, his clothes rumpled with sleep, and on Derek, whose jeweled eyes are shimmering with unshed tears and sparkling joy.

"Derek, what the hell did you do?!"

Derek doesn't deem that a question worthy of replying. Instead the werewolf picks him up and hugs him so tight Stiles worries about not being able to breathe, and then realizes, with a startling clarity, that he is not in pain.

Still in embrace, he asks, a little choked up, "Why am I not in pain?"

Derek takes an exaggerated sniff before reluctantly pulling back and fixing him with a look that screams of resplendent joy, but also like he's waiting for a reprimand. He says, "This is Bardo."

Stiles stills. "Bardo," he repeats. He's dived into enough books to hear what Derek is leaving unsaid. Bardo is where spirits go after dying. It's an in-between space for spirits with unfinished business, one that opens only on a land with a Nemeton on it. Beacon Hills fits the criteria for it, and Stiles the criteria for having wishes he didn't get in his life, but he doesn't... He doesn't fit the other criteria. "Derek Nobody Will Tell Me What Your Middle Name Is Hale, that place — which apparently is this place, what the hell — is for supernatural spirits. Me?" He laughs, humorless and frantic. "I am not a supernatural creature. I'm just a human who used to run with a Pack."

Derek's worry melts away into nothing, as if Stiles would miss the fact that for Derek to be here, he has to be dead.

"Don't think I don't understand that you're dead, too! Deliberately!"

There. That is the face of a chastised puppy. "But it worked?" Stiles squints his eyes and motions for Derek to go on, who sighs but complies with the command. "The illness that took you was a Supernatural fever, last recorded with a Spark centuries ago. I tracked down the journal —"

"Wait, hold on, Spark? Where have I heard that word..." The Vet clinic, years ago. The Kanima in the club. The mountain ash line that never should have formed because there was much too less of it to complete the circle. As the realization hits, he closes his eyes and rests his fists against them. He isn't ashamed to let out a scream of rage as well.

When he lets his arms fall back down to his side, Derek takes one of them and starts rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "You are one," he says softly, like he's trying not to spook Stiles with the declaration. Like Stiles' world didn't just shift irrevocably as he put the pieces together. "I don't really understand why your powers never unlocked, because traditionally speaking they should have kicked in your teen years. With the added clusterfuck of those years they definitely should have. They did not."

Again, he laughs humorlessly, and gives Derek a "duh" look. "Our lives have rarely dared to be traditional." He thinks back to all the awful things that have happened over the years to him, but mostly, as Derek put it, in those years. The Nogitsune was definitely the worst thing to happen to him, and holy shit. "Do you think it chose me because of my power? Rather than her?"

Derek doesn't answer for a moment. Then he says, "I think that is why you survived. Because of your Spark."

Oh. That... makes sense. Sort of. But that is the past, and they're in the present, and they're in fucking Bardo of all places. "Derek, I think I really need an explanation. Like right now. Including why you thought killing yourself was the best fucking idea."

Derek winces, but he also looks determined once Stiles' glare eases off of him. And they're still holding hands, which he realizes with a warmth he actually enjoys feeling. "When I got the call, I had an inkling... So I followed my instincts and ended up at probably our oldest vault."

"You knew what I am." He doesn't even feel angry. Somehow, Derek knowing a thing about him that nobody else does (and he is not counting Deaton as a factor here at all, that cryptic asshole), it feels nice.

Derek uses his free hand to tap at his chest, once, twice. "Instincts," he says, with the same effect as saying, "Werewolf," like he once used to, as if that was the answer to everything. "This illness confirmed it for me. I found a journal at the vault that belonged to that Spark, and in it, he detailed how the illness felt, how it spread, and how within weeks he could do nothing but lay on his cot." Derek swallows, his voice turning rough with choked up emotions. "Stiles, just reading it was so awful. I can't imagine..."

Derek Hale doesn't cry. He feels deeply, and he cares even deeper, but he doesn't cry, not in front of people.

But Stiles is not most people, and he is aware enough to know that he is, for some reason, one of the people who is most important to Derek. So as Derek breaks down at the idea of Stiles' suffering, Stiles reaches forward and brings his arms around Derek.

"I'm here," he assures, over and over again, until the words are stronger than Derek's shaking. "I'm right here," he says one last time, and stays close to the man he loves most for an indeterminate amount of time, silently not-breathing together.

Stiles breaks the silence with, "I love you, you know?" He had promised to not say it to Derek. To not burden him. But here they are, in Bardo. Together. A Pack of two who would do all that is possible and all that is not to protect the other. Derek deserves to know he is loved.

The way Derek's arms tighten around him says he doesn't know. And when Derek pulls back, just a little to stare at Stiles like this is unbelievable, Stiles pulls him back in by grabbing his hands and putting one on his chest, the other on his face. He kisses the inner palm of the latter, and smiles brightly. "Never thought I'd say it. Especially once I was on my deathbed. Still hate that you chose to die with me, but I'm hoping you have a plan, and you deserve to know. You're amazing and I love you, Derek Hale."

The smile he gets is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and Derek presses forward until their foreheads are resting against each other's. "Samuel," he says.

"Derek Samuel Hale? Samuel like Sam and Dean's grandpa?"

Derek does a snort-chortle thing, then says in the small space between them, "Shut up, Stiles."

"Shutting up."

The silence stretches, and they stay together, seizing the moment. Who knew Bardo could be peaceful? Except...

"Our escape plan? See, I'd love to explore you biblically anywhere and everywhere, but I would much rather do it on —"

"Stiles."

Derek's look of scandalized horror makes Stiles laugh until he's being hauled off in his strong, muscled arms like a sack of potatoes and starts walking. "I don't know why I love you too."

"This is just sexy. I don't think you know what you're doing to me."

"I can still smell your arousal, Stiles. I know."

"You know loads of things. What else do you know?" He says it in a simpering, sexy voice, and then giggles as Derek stumbles a step before balancing himself.

"I know how to escape. We need a bed, yes? So stop distracting me and let me do my thing."

Stiles is just glad he is already in Derek's arms, because otherwise he would have swooned and fallen into them.

The escape plan is easy and a let down, if he's being completely honest. What they need are:

A Spark's Belief ✅️

An Alpha's Roar ✅️ (When did Derek become an Alpha again?)

An Anchor on The Other Side ✅️ (Peter)

An Incantation That Derek Has Memorized ✅️

To Stand Where The Veil is Thinnest ✅️ (Derek's instincts strike yet again)

All in all, it is very anti-climactic, and very dirty as they end up materializing in a clearing near the Nemeton which is muddy. Peter looks one look at them and says, "Finally."

Stiles isn't sure if he meant it for them coming back or for Stiles and Derek finally confessing to each other. Either way, Peter hands them clean clothes and agrees to drive them back to Stiles' house, where apparently everyone is in a panic because "Stiles dissappeared."

"It's only been like, an hour or something," Stiles says, confused, as he changes into the clean t-shirt while Peter faces the other way and Derek stares, unabashed, much to Peter's verbal disgust.

Peter takes a break from chastising his nephew to say, "It's been 72 hours."

Huh.

"We should get going then," he says, and Peter sighs.

"If only you could ask my dear nephew to rein in his urges."

Stiles throws Derek a glare, who rolls his eyes but obliges. However the glare the turns into an appreciative look over Derek's abs, and Peter throws up his hands.

*

Acclimating to having magic is easy when he already has an anchor. Derek's presence is both wanted and needed, and despite Scott's insistence that another Alpha cannot stay in town, Derek stays as long as Stiles does.

Two weeks pass before Stiles calls back his boss and lets her know that he's now alright, and then he's promptly being shipped off to another state for a case. Everyone has already congratulated him on both being alive and doing something about his pining, so they throw a simple dinner on his last night in town and Stiles watches, with amusement and fondness, as all the people in his heart mingle with easy conversations and banter.

Peter chooses to stay in town to reconnect with Malia in person, while Cora deems it better to go back to her Pack in South America. Lydia and Jackson leave together for London, but Isaac decides to stay back.

When Stiles asks him why, he says, "Liam needs a good mentor. His control is weak. I can help him, plus, Derek needs a pack."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Liam is Scott's beta," he says.

"None of them have a pack bond," Isaac fire backs, and oh.

Derek must have heard the conversation, too, because he comes over and claps Isaac on the back, proud and all smiley, and Stiles can't help but lean in to kiss it. To taste the constant joy off of Derek's face, to give him his own in return. The action is met with Derek's soft moan and a ring of disgusted groaning from the others, including his dad's.

Stiles laughs after he pulls back, and looks around at the lot of them. There's tragedy woven into all of their lives, but there's also happiness.

Who knew getting ill would lead to this? To re-founding a family?

Maybe Derek knew, the bastard. Loveable bastard, though.

[hemipenal-system]

In a world where werewolves exist and are normal members of society, a major goal of the labor movement is probably paid time off for werewolves during the full moon: wealthy werewolves or those with salaried jobs and an allotment of vacation time can afford to take the time off, working class werewolves can’t afford to and so they have to try to do their jobs while shifted. When the werewolf unions finally achieve this goal (perhaps by massive strikes shutting down some of the more werewolf-dominated sectors of the economy such as astronomy and heavy manual labor), it probably has economic ramifications since there’s a lot of jobs just not getting done during the full moon. Possibly some people even try to become werewolves just to get the time off.

…and now I’ve committed the cardinal sin of horny worldbuilding: trying to make it make sense.

i imagine the werewolves actually get their PTO relatively easily just on account of how werewolves are scary as shit. like yeah with human protestors in the streets you can just call the cops or whatever but what do you do when the protestors are strong enough to flip cop cars by hand and basically entirely immune to most conventional weapons? you shoot rubber bullets at them and they're just gonna brush it off and then yeet a manhole cover at your head at mach fuck you

you ever had a group of 6 nine foot tall beasts show up to your house at 10 pm while you're in the pool with your wife and delicately remove all the exterior doors from your house with their construction tools because you keep sabotaging their unions? what are you gonna do, stop them? no you aren't. you're not gonna say SHIT to a werewolf with a sledgehammer. you're just gonna let them take your doors off and then let the union meet the next day

as for after the PTO, i like to think werewolves with decent control over their urges and decent enough jobs to justify going would just go in and get really good overtime pay, especially ones who work with people. it's kinda heartwarming to go to the store and get fitted for a suit or have your ice cream made by a dapper lil wolf i think

[part-time-zombie]

Silly little headcanon that Janus and Virgil always accidentally end up doing the same thing without realizing it.

Janus is very private and doesn't like people snooping around in his stuff, so he writes his notes in a secret alphabet he came up with so no one could read it.

Virgil has a diary he hides in his room and worries about Remus or someone else finding it, so he's written it in his own invented code for good measure.

It's only when Virgil randomly looks over Janus' shoulder in the common room to see what he's writing that he realizes they're both using the SAME DAMN CODE.

They have similar taste in junk food and hide their preferred snack in the same spot where no one will look for it. They think they're the only one stocking it and get confused by how they run out so soon when they aren't eating it that much (the other side was eating it too because they thought it was theirs)

Janus is hungry late at night, and when he goes downstairs he catches Virgil already grabbing one of their snacks, which is when he finally figures it out.

About every other month one of them catches the other doing something they already do and it always ends up like this:

[siryouarebeingmocked]

I have been on tumblr for that long, and back then, one common MRA argument was that boys were less likely to graduate high school and college, and got better grades, because of systemic educational changes designed to prioritize girls.

Criticizing to someone else in the chain to save dash space.

sharticle >These men will encounter misandrist rhetoric over the course of their youth, either rehashed and compiled by conservative mouthpieces or stumbled across in the wild, which seems to say that they are responsible for the ills of women around them and they are the oppressor class.

Interesting how you don't actually say who's actually saying this stuff, but you do mention conservatives who compile it.

I also like "seems to say", when, um, that's the explicit message of many people.

Including the claim that men are all collectively responsible for any evil any man does to any women (which must, of course, be motivated by sexism).

By the way, ever heard of MRAs? Who actually tend to lean left-wing and think feminism isn't doing enough to support gender equality?

Of course women don't turn right-wing en-masse on account of discrimination; they wouldn't turn to the side of their antagonists.

I've seen plenty of left-wing folks try to tell women to get in line and treat them horrible because those women didn't blindly support feminism.

I've also seen loads of left-wingers pretend or convince themselves right-wing women don't exist, or are just doing what men want.

Especially when it comes to abortion.

Ironically, they were both pretty misogynist, and "erasing women's voices".

Similarly young men turn to the right because they feel antagonized by the left—framed for a patriarchy they didn't install.

And yet are constantly told they're responsible for.

If you say "every single society run by men is automatically sexist and oppresses women," you're saying men are so universally sexist as makes no difference from every single one being sexist.

What remains except to embrace reality as it is, and abuse the system for their benefit? Clearly women don't care about them (as they will often hear voices from the left say, 'Haven't women been nice enough to men already/women don't owe men anything') and with the understanding that women are remorseless about them, why should they feel any remorse for women?

Oh, good, you finally used active voice about the left.

The right wing will use your hate against you. The right wing will use your hate to turn men across the world against you. Mind what you post.

And then you immediately blame this on the right-wing more than the left again.

How about not being dicks to men because sexism is inherently wrong, and it's not what people should be doing if they support gender equality and oppose sexism?

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[the-fandom-fuckup]

pov Donnie found out the results of the autismswagsummit semi-finals and got a little too confident about it Good thing Raph's there to keep him in line and remind him what good sportsmanship looks like (Also, I know Papyrus was included in the finals, but the joke worked better without adding him in. He's there in spirit)

[joinsideke]

And I actually did NOT say "not wanting to be raped is purity culture". I did NOT say we should get raped rather than commit suicide (as if it's one or the other, as if most women even know they're about to get raped and have time to kill themselves instead, as if this is the norm). I did NOT say surviving trauma is easy. And I most definitely did not say anyone should go on living through endless torture they can't escape, you hyperbolic twit.

So here, let me extrapolate what I actually did say, since reading comprehension is not your strong suit:

Feminists like to say rape is a fate worse than death. I said that rape is not inherently worse than death, because death is final. You can survive rape and though it may be difficult, you can get help, you can get better, and you can go on to have a fulfilling life. This is not to say you necessarily will, just that it's possible and worth trying for, whereas nothing is possible if you're dead. Call me an optimist, but I believe in the potential for happiness, even with life's hardships. I do not believe victims of rape or any other abuse are doomed for it.

But feminists don't seem to agree. They claim rape is the worst thing that can happen to a woman, and that they would rather kill themselves instead. This notion and what it implies is what I'm calling purity culture. Again, why is rape worse than death? Does it mean you're ruined for life? You're damaged goods because a man forced himself on you? You'll never find happiness again, so that's why it would have been better if you had killed yourself? Cos that's sure what it sounds like. Do you not see the problem with this? If rape is worse than death, how can rape victims go on living?

I saw in your tags that you have been raped before, and I am genuinely sorry to hear that. But you didn't kill yourself, and you add that you're still not sure if you would or not if faced with that situation again. Kinda contradicting what you're saying in your post, but I get it. It's a traumatic, awful thing to go through and no one should ever have to go through it. I understand why you have complicated feelings about it.

I'm not saying you or anyone should choose rape over death. I'm saying you shouldn't have to choose death over life. I don't care about hypotheticals, I'm worried about what this rhetoric does to people who have survived. Yall deserve better than that.

Haven't seen anyone else addressing how the "feminist" preference for being eaten by a bear over meeting a man alone in the woods is in large part about purity culture and terror of rape.

Like, this whole thing is an obvious reference to older tales where the virtuous maiden flees the wicked men and gets eaten by a bear or fell off a cliff, but at least she died a virgin!

I miss where there was at least a feminist contingent that thought that being raped wasn't a fate worse than death.

[rootspiral]

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

IT'S TIME TO REWATCH AGATHA ALL ALONG, WITCHES! And as usual, spoilers below.

episode 1, Seekest Thou The Road

Wanda is dead (no she ain't). As a result, her spell is weakened and Agatha has changed from her nosy neighbor character to detective Agnes (or caught the true crime bug, as Herb will put it.)

Stinky grimy Agnes, so serious and depressed. As soon as she appears onscreen she's humming the Ballad.

Detective Agnes has just been recalled to action after being off duty for a while. She was punished for "punching a suspect", which is code for going after Wanda. Agnes points out that now the suspect is a convicted felon, i.e. that she was right after all and Wanda is dangerous and evil. "I can't be right and wrong" she says. "Yes, you can" says Herb, because both Agatha and Wanda are villain and victim. And lol at the police tape symbolizing Herb's fence. You know the poor guy is in his garden looking down at Agnes in her Bonher family tshirt, wondering what the hell is going on.

oh that's a seriously good shot

Agatha looks heartbroken when she sees Wanda's body, doesn't she? She looks so sorry.

Herb (the real Herb behind the illusion) confirms that Agatha is acting different than usual.

THIRD TIME SHE DISCREETLY DRIES HER TEARS

There is nothing funny about Detective Agnes. Or rather, it's funny to watch her because she's so intense, but we laugh at her, she's not being a clown on purpose like Agatha usually is. And Agatha right now is in a lot of pain, even more than usual having completely lost her agency. This character so unkempt, so sad, so doggedly searching for answers, is more true to Agatha's real self than what she usually lets people see. Deep down she's just a tragic lesbian wet rat.

Somebody called in to have the body found, and I think that somebody was Rio. Why would the body be next to the water otherwise? It's like the River of Life laid her gently where Agatha could find her. In other words, Wanda's death brought her to Agatha. I'm curious about these woods too, we know they don't actually exist as this is all in Agatha's head, but where did the idea come from? Are these the woods where she killed the Salemites? Where she gave birth to Nicky? Or where she buried him?

Agatha's victims from the finale flashing throughout the opening. Wherever it may bend, I'll see you at the end.

"based on the danish series WANDAVISDYEN" never fails to destroy me. and it's so clever too, it's like they're telling first time watchers that yes, this seems like a grim detective show, but you clever audiences know that things are not as they seem and this is a parody, right?? this is not serious at all, it's funny! Laugh! Except. It's not funny. It's not funny at all. And you're going to realize only when it's too late. It's the same thing they do with Sharon/Mrs. Hart, they lure you in with laughs only to hit you with heartbreak. This show is not a comedy at all. It's at its very core a senseless tragedy.

Sarah/Dottie lives next door too, was Agatha talking to her through a window, or does the library desk symbolize another fence? This poor woman, hasn't she suffered enough? But they all more or less try to help Agnes, that's sweet. Has anyone from SWORD or whomever dropped in to talk to them, did the Avengers just decide to leave Agatha there? Did Monica (or Ralph) even explain to the poor people of Westview that she's a witch, or do they just think she's a random neighbor who couldn't be saved from Wanda's Hex?

THE MAILMAN CONTINUES BEING SUSPICIOUS. Is Agatha putting words in his mouth, or was he (the "messanger") sent by someone to warn her about the Darkhold being destroyed???

her FACE when she sees Rio

and the way Rio just stares and stares. When you rewatch this scene knowing that this is the first time she gets to see Agatha in centuries... and she has to be cool and she has to be gentle. I think it's deliberate that they put Phil/Harold/Ross Geller in here, because he's one of the funniest people in Westview and it's suggesting a first time viewer to read this scene as a comedy. Except it's a cosmic tale of tragedy and heartbreak, but you're not supposed to notice yet, even if it's right there under your nose.

Stop being such a lone wolf, Agnes. Or rather, stop being such a sad and lonely covenless witch, Agatha.

Rio laughs her delighted little laugh, licks her lips, looks out the window for a moment as if overwhelmed, then goes back looking at Agatha and basically devouring her with her eyes. ("te veo.") (thank you for my life aubrey plaza.) Agatha stares daggers back, but her body language stars getting defensive. She feels very vulnerable.

Yep, defensive. And wistful.

She is doing her job, like always. But she's also going above and beyond. There is technically no need for her to wake Agatha up, but here she is, dropping gentle clues, guiding her with such patience and care.

"If you wanna be in control you can be" is said in such a kind tone, but it's also sexy?? I think Rio really likes for Agatha to take control, in a lot of ways. Her body language is the opposite of what Agatha is doing too.

Oh noes she's making herself so small now. She's like, intrigued and angry and happy and scared to see Rio. They're both being so tentative!! And she doesn't actually know who Rio is because she's under the damn spell, so her body language and feelings are pure instinct. They come from somewhere very very true and deep. (and LOL that mug says "get a clue")

Is this who you are now, Agatha? the intense but lonely detective? she's genuinely interested, because Rio investigates Agatha just as Agatha investigates everybody else. Rio simply cannot get enough of her. and she keeps talking with this gentle, warm, understated tone.

Gains personal space. Keeps staring and staring.

oh now we're leaning. they do this every scene they are together, they keep getting closer and closer even if they don't mean to, like magnets.

Agatha literally bolts to the door and tells her to leave. Rio's presence is so overwhelming in so many different and complicated ways, and she doesn't even understand why that is at the moment. Kathryn Hahn is playing this perfectly straight (no pun intended), there is genuine pain in her voice.

"Te veo", which is not "see you," but I see you, I'm always looking for you, I'm always watching. And I finally see you, after all this time.

Oh, honey.

I'm running out of space again, but I promise I'll continue this tomorrow. Thank you for all the notes you guys, I was not expecting so many! I'm doing this mostly to amuse myself, but it's nice to know that the brainrot is collective 🙃🙃🙃

[ivys-garden]

Life Series Session Recap and Alliance Analysis

Pearl opens her episode clarifying she and Impulse did nothing wrong. Finally I don't have to write “get over double life, tumblr” every week.

Yes, another Saturday means another instalment of the Life Series. This session was far more chill and slow paced than last weeks, ironic considering that this week's Wild Card was a perpetual speed increase! Going from a complete time freeze to full hyperspeed. Naturally, this led to about a 7.5 on the madness scale, so let's see what those teams were up to.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Cleo, Pearl, Impulse & Bigb (not anymore ;3 ))

On the topic of Pearl and Impulse, Cleo decides that they will fully enable all of they're future actions. Yes, she might sigh when they talk about all the evil stuff they're going to do, but she's fully on board.

Right about now Scott is probably regretting being team mum for three chaos gremlins as he's already had to instruct them not to give Gem any more reasons to kill them & had to break up the fight that was issued once they all went Matrix mode.

Speaking of Gem & Joel, a new development in the great drama sees Impulse explain himself and apologise to Gem. She doesn't buy it but it's the thought that counts. During this apology Pearl, the attack dog, is ordered by Gem and Impulse to slaughter grian. So while Cleo and Scott go off to make friends, Impulse and Pearl pop over to Rens for some very serious murder discussion, with an eventual “let's murder Grian” party forming consisting of Pearl, Impulse, Ren, Martyn, Bigb, Scar & Jimmy. If even a fraction of these people stick to this next session Grian is pretty firmly doomed.

In other news Scott manages to make allies with the Bamboozelers through several means, including staring at Jimmy's ass. Cleo & Impulse have a little caving adventure and Impy manages to make a working Creeper farm that they may or may not be sharing with Renwood. This leaves Pearl once again building the tower, which is good since she has arguably to much experience in that

While building the tower we get more Drama! Grian and Mumbo managed to get a quick kill on Scott early on the session by digging a big pit under the tower and spleefing him in. Mumbo and Skizz later come back to this trap only to be discovered by Pearl. The Suits try to get her to lure Scott over, but Pearl is far to loyal for that…. But not loyal enough to kick them out, reasoning that it would be really funny if it happened twice. On top of this she negotiated the ability to kill grian without them stepping in, very useful given her current plans & the second spleefing doesn't work anyways, so no harm no foul.

No one would actually agree to luring their team to their Death intentionally… right Bigb?

I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not. He's worked again every team he's been in except Nosey Neighbours. I guess the “B” must stand for “Betrayal”

Bigb pulls the same thing Pearl did only not under the pretence of a joke, when Grian is around to actually make sure his team gets the kill, actually agreeing to lure Scott and doing it INFRONT OF CLEO. This being the second time this has helped to them, Cleo immediately goes off to find Scott to warn him about the traitor…Scott still falls into the trap anyway but that was a skill issue on his part. Bigb actually tries later to gaslight Scott into thinking that he didn't mean to betray the team, which almost worked until he started saying Cleo was the traitor, which obviously Scott would never buy. Oh he also did this in earshot of Cleo so she set her attack dog (Pearl) on him.

Bigb also later betrays the “Let's Kill Grian Gang” and warns Grian about the plan to murderficate him. I guess someone hasn't gotten over Double Life after all.

The Fast And The Furious - (Joel & Gem)

Actually, the fast and the paranoid might be more accurate as while Joel is just off having a grand old time prattling speed bridging, Gem is terrified that everyone is out to get her and doesn't seem to understand that putting your base on the main path means more people will come visit.

Aside from sending everyone they can to kill Grian and disregarding Impulses genuine apology, the team due doesn't really do much themselves

Gem was officially the last person to lose a life though, with no less than 4 people, including 2 greens, having to help kill her.

Also Joel added racing stripes to the car and… it actually made it a lot less hideous, well done Joel.

The Bamboozelers - (Jimmy, Scar & Lizzie)

Jimmy has regained the title as most confident member of this team…scarily confident in fact, just this session he was able to steal a potential kill from Skizz & kill his teammates, get another good kill on Joel using Lizzie as bait, managing to turn his relationship with Joel around to become allies and reaffirming his alliance with Renwood. Honesty 100 IQ plays from Tim all around.

He did die once this session, but that wasn't his fault and was also incredibly funny to watch Martyn bimbo his way through traps made for Bigb and accidentally kill Timmy. Great job everyone.

Speaking of failed traps… oh Scar… he started of strong, absolutely annihilating Etho in slow motion and living up to the villain he shares a name with by tossing him off a cliff, but after that every single attempt to trap someone fails miserably and he's forced into a cheap kill on Grian that results in him calling for vengeance… wouldn't be to worried about that tho considering Skizz and Mumbo's track record.

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Skizz & Grian)

How are these idiots not dead yet.

They get one (1) successful kill this session, spleefin’ Scott. A trap Mumbo tries his luck with several times after this despite knowing the Final Girls already knew about it.

Skizz gets no kills despite Grians efforts. An attempt to build a super TNT minecart launcher is made… on Scars mountain… and Grian spends several.minutes explaining to his worst enemies how the trap works… and then he and Mumbo stand directly under where they know the TNT will land. Yeah obviously Jimmy sneaks in and pulls the lever to kill them.

A second attempt to launch TNT is made, but this launcher is pathetic and ends up being turned into a party game. oh, and then Grian gets hotguyed by Scar. Grian immediately screams vengeance and blows up the reputation board, ranting about how little it meant since he was in good favour… which only proved he never read the damn thing but it's the thought that counts.

In their last hoorah for this session the team goes on a proper hunt The Bamboozelers as they hide in Joel's car. Mumbo sneaks up to pure lava on them… and burns himself to death. He then tries to hypersonic pvp Gem and you can guess how that went. He then joins in trapping Gwm in a big hole and burning her, only for the kill to go to Ren anyway.

These guys are Doomed. Especially because Final Girls & The Family are allied with Scar & The fact that Renwood actively wants to murder them.

Predictions: Grian goes Yellow next session, Mumbo goes out-out and Skizz is somehow still Red.

Renwood - (Ren & Martyn)

We actually covered everything these guys did already, The Grian Murder Crew, Martyn being a trap bimbo, Ren allying with Impulse to make up for beheading him, really the only thing we haven't discussed is Martyns strange choice to make the first 5 minutes of his episode unlistenable

The Tuff Guys - (Etho, Tango & Bdubs

Etho finally admits they're the comic relief. Like any good comic relief, these three stooges spend the entire session failing at everything. Tango fails on the same trap 3 times. Bdubs almost kills himself in said trap. There's more fights and bickerings than you could count on 15 hands and a toe

Oh also Tango also perma-died to Pearl after going invis and being pumped full of arrows.

Honestly it's not a question of if someone dies next session, it's a question of who.

[matchadobo]

Hi! Can I request "you act like a brat all day and you expect me to do nothing about it?" but with the entire Kid Pirates 🥵🥵🥵

Thank you so much! I love how you write Kid 💝

KIDD, KILLER, HEAT, WIRE; brat

🌷matchadobo's 500 followers event🌷

wc: 3161

dialogue: "you act like a brat all day and you expect us to do nothing about it?"

warning/s: sooo nsfw🔞 this is the filthiest thing i've ever written up to this day! 🥵, fem reader, 5some (kidd, killer, heat, wire, reader), idk if this is considered dubcon?, implied established, no plot really just p0rn, rough seggs, fingering, cunnilingus, flame/fire play?, voyeurism

note: hi anon! i hope you mean just the main gang of kidd pirates? i CANNOT for the life of me construct a smut with an entire pirate group omg 😳, this is my first time creating smut for more than three people i hope i did it justice >__<

if there's one thing that pushes kidd to his limits, especially when it comes to you, it's his jealousy. it's not that he's not secured enough about your loyalty with him, it's the way you act like nothing is going on between the both of you. frankly, the five of you.

killer, heat, and wire were no strangers to this feeling either. they felt indignant as you sat with a couple of dudes, blatantly mingling and flirting with them. although there was nothing further than a friendly interaction with the foreign batch of men in the pub, laughing at their jokes and brushing arms and hands with them from time to time pissed off your crewmates. most of all kidd, who's gone down way more than a couple of barrels of rum for someone who says he'll just have a drink.

"oi, slow down, captain. thought we'll resupply today." heat nudged kidd, a dry laugh as he looked at his unfazed friend. his eyes boring holes through you.

"bout that, think we have to postpone that. let's stay in 'ere for another day for tomorrow." he finally placed the mug down, wiping off the remnants of liquid on his lips with the back of his palm.

"postpone? have we got other plans?" killer asked, turning to kidd who turned stood up and padded off his pants.

"her." wire immediately caught up, following after kidd who walked undeterred towards your table. they were from the bar and you were sat on some table across somewhere. they think it's almost intentional at this point that they have a full view of this. if you're trying to rile them up, you've suceeded.

though you're not sure if it ends good for you, with the way each of them are glaring at you when they stood before your table. their eyes raising goosebumps on your skin making your throat run dry.

"we got any problems, gentlemen?" the foreign men around you initiated, referring to kidd and his men looming over you.

"they're my crewmates." you introduced with distinterest, pissed that they're gonna ruin a moment for you because you know what those looks mean. "you know what? i think i should get going, thanks for the drinks." you smiled and bid goodbye to them, expression faltering as you met kidd's eyes.

"hey," one of them had a hold of your arm and kidd and the others almost whipped out their weapons to slash that guy's arm because of his motherfucking audacity. "you sure you're all good?"

you nodded with a smile, a pained one now that it got cut short. you later asked kidd and the others to come with you outside.

"what is it? do we have to go now?" you crossed your arms, sighing and looking at each of these hulking men.

"still don't get it do you?" kidd shifted in his foot, chuckling soullessly.

"guess we oughta remind it to 'er again, captain." wire butted in, putting an arm around you. you glared at him as you looked up, face contorted as you knitted your eyebrows in cofusion.

"what? guys? am i missing somethi- hey! kidd! put me down!" kidd swept you off your feet, he carried you on his shoulder like you weigh nothing. you drummed on his back while muttering out curses on his way back to the ship.

there was always this tension around the five of you, particularly on your end and it's towards theirs. it's begging to be addressed. it's so precarious and it stifles you to your very core. so much so that the mere sight of them looming around you right now drives you nuts and the fear shudders down your thighs. you're wet as hell.

he placed you down the couch on his room, wire sat on one side while heat on the other. killer stood not far from where you were, leaning his bum on the furniture with his arms crossed on kidd's dresser beside the couch; keen on observing. while kidd paced before you in a slow manner, he did it in a way that instigated fear in you for what might be in store for you.

"strip."

it was an order. eyes right at you as he stopped to face you with his arms crossed. kidd's gaze was dark amidsts his bright yellow irises, it was demeaning and you felt your chest tighten.

"what? kidd, what the hell?"

"you heard him, name." killer spoke and it somewhat made the air thicker because he's usually quiet. when it came out of him, it feels more stern that the acid in your stomach starts crawling up your throat. "you've been a brat all day and you expect us to do nothing about it?"

killer's blue eyes felt deadly behind his mask. despite being covered, you can feel the holes boring through you as he kept his voice in the same tone yet with a foreboding volume.

but shit. you wanted to have some fun and meet new people, and if things work see how things will go from there. but you didn't realize that it'd be a problem with them. after all, no strings attached right? but it's attention you really wanted and they couldn't give it to you because they were too into their guy shit. so you got annoyed at them and opted to find some other people to satisfy your needs. apparently they're too busy talking about how one metal differs from the other to spare you some sort of affection.

"y'all weren't even batting me an eye, for fuck's sake." you crossed your arms, gazing to the window with crashing waves. avoiding eye contact at all costs, but you know damn well they had all their eyes on you. "didn't think the lot of you would care if i mess around a little bit. and now you're asking me to fuck you guys? hah."

"so you missed us, that it?" kidd raised a brow, grinning at the realization that you wanted them again.

"aaaw, that stings, name. you're cruel." heat mumbled, his inked hands precarious on your thigh. "think you can be a doll and make it up to us?"

heat and killer were always the sweet ones, wire and kidd are the most vicious; during sex and well, your relationship. the former would always be some sort of your best friend and would be kind enough to think about you than their own pleasures during sex. but the latter will always be on their mission to fuck you up in the most demeaning way possible, they're never fucking kind. they always teased and fucked with you, be a little shit around you and annoy you in the worst ways possible. and during sex, their benevolence isn't to be expected. they'd always finish with you in the filthiest way possible that you wouldn't even remember your name right.

which explains why wire was the first to catch your lips and bury his tongue down your throat. he initally had his arm around you but when you wouldn't stop bitching about them letting you go, he'd had enough and ought to just shut you up in the best way he thinks he can. you squrimed under his lips, eyes shut tight. he held your wrist with one hand while the other settled in pushing the back of your neck to his. you pulled away by force, staring up at him as he donned a pompous smirk and eager eyes.

"oh? what's wrong, name? thought you wanted attention?"

"fuck off, wire. fucking get off."

"and hey, for the third time, you heard the captain. otherwise we'd rip off your favorite dress."

you rolled your eyes with a deep blush on your cheeks. whatever, this'll be quick. you struggled to reach behind you the zipper that goes way down the bottom of your spine. heat chuckled, placing his hand over yours so he could take over. he gave your shoulder a dry peck before helping you out of your dress.

killer took matters into his own hands and sauntered towards you, holding your jaw with one arm as he discarded his helmet with the other. he ran his thumb across your cheek, smiling as he looked into your eyes down to your naked frame. like a kitten, you nuzzled your face deep on his calloused palms. he unzipped his pants while keeping his grip on you, he soon held of one of your hands and guide it down his groin where his painfully hard boner is begging to be released.

"handle it for me, yeah?" he rubbed circles on your cheekbones, soon brushing your hair out of your face as he combed through your locks. "i'll let it slide this time if you do well, dove."

and it shocked you to your very core when killer was quick to push himself so far down your throat when you had just put his length in your mouth. your tears fell as his head touched the back of your throat forcefully. you had to grab a hold of his hips, nails digging by the sides of his pelvis. you whined with your mouth full, he was too kind to pull away and give you a break.

you panted, drool and bubbles on your mouth dripping as it coated your chin. killer grimaced, rubbed his length on your cheeks and teased his head on your numbing lips.

"'s wrong? can't fuckin' take killer when he's not bein' nice?!" kidd grinned behind him, wrapping his hand around your throat to spit in your mouth. "you know damn well you're not gettin' off this easy. now, suck it." kidd fisted your hair, letting killer fuck your mouth the way he pleases with kidd in control.

heat and wire were palming themselves in their pants, the feel of your bare body next to them is enough to render their cocks hard. they yearned to touch you, explore your body and pleasure you the way you're pleasuring killer.

there was a good while where killer's grunts and the gurgles and gags of your throat filled the room. you were crying not from pain but from the blond's intense pace. you had never seen him this eager and rough, maybe you really did piss him off that's why he had to take it out on you. but soon enough, killer came down your throat, taking a long while to keep his cock inside you while you drink up every bit of his release.

your chest heaved as you sat on the couch, head hanging loosely from the backrest. dizzy as you try and recover from a mouthful of killer's load.

you turned to wire who touched you a little to precariously down to your soaked panties. you hear a lowly chuckle vibrate from his chest, amused at your state. he palmed you through your panties, while the other had wrapped around your throat. you placed a hand over his arm, as if begging to give you a break and recover. but he just grinned and his fingers became faster. the grip around your throat became tighter.

heat was just reveling in the feel of your skin and rubbed circles back and forth close to your inner thigh. he placed your thigh above his so you can open up more for the brunette.

kidd got behind you, pressing your cheek to his crotch, his head peeking out of his underwear. you looked up at him with glassy eyes, but of course he wouldn't care. you fucked up that bad.

killer was still at high from earlier, but he stroked his cock at the sight of his friends fucking you up. it got him off as you try and take all of kidd in behind you while quirming as wire got his fingers buried deep in you.

"so overstimulated already and we haven't even gotten to the best part?" wire taunted you as he stared down at your half-lidded eyes, his thumb teasing your clit.

they all laughed a little when you tried your best to curse out a muffled 'fuck you' as you struggled with kidd abusing your mouth. the redhead had a hand around your throat to keep your head bent backwards, cum spilling down your cheeks mixed with the tears in your eyes from gagging to much. he really doesn't know when to stop, this man.

and when kidd was finally done with you, killer held your head delicately on his toned stomach, supporting it as you fell weak. he fetched a towel and wiped off the filth on your face, placing a kiss down your ear afterward.

but wire wasn't done with you yet, he was so keen on curling his long fingers in you that you continue to lose all sense with your eyes rolling at the back of your head. "f-fuck, wire. please..!" you whined, gripping his arm and trying to stop him. but really it felt good.

"please what? let you cum? go faster? stop? what is it, angel?" he raised a brow, cunning as he acted coy. and you honestly didn't know what to answer, so you just threw your head back and scratched at his arm so hard it left a scar.

"ah you're way too mean to name, wire. come on, i still haven't gotten my turn yet." heat jumped in, stroking your hair as he brushed the hairs sticking on your forehead out of your face.

"well, you heard him, name. what do you say we finish up, hm?" his pace went so fast you thought you were going to die, you felt your saliva caught in your throat and you couldn't mumble your words right. it was all slurring from here on out.

but your throbbing cunt wasn't even spared by heat, who was starving the moment he helped you out of your clothes. your thighs rested on his shoulder while kidd took the mint-haired's former place beside you, snaking an arm around your waist as he played with your tits from behind while his mechanical arm had a firm grip around your throat.

kidd always had a penchant in choking you, along with the filthy little praises he's whispering at you. he adored how you looked at him with so much indignance, almost wanting to kill him but you can't. cuz what he's doing feels good. the constriction around your throat as he degrades you and tells you how much of a little whore you are.

"seems you're enjoyin' your punishment a little too much, huh? matter of fact this ain't even punishin', aye? it feels so good being treated like the slut you are, doesn't it?" he growled in your ear, his guttural whispers sends shivers down your spine and it doesn't help that heat's way too busy devouring you down there.

by this time, you were feeling so drunk and you're incapable of any sound other than sinful slurs and moans. you whined against kidd's frame, crying as he peppered your face with his crimson-stained lips.

heat had this habit to use 10% of his firepower to warm up his mouth for you, it tickles and it feels amazing. he first teased a tiny bit of flame between your chest, his lips precarious on your skin, so close yet he doesn't touch it. he took a peak at you through his dark eyes, his pants growing tight as he saw you squirming at his actions, looking down at him with begging eyes.

he trailed his flames down your belly button, tickling a giggle out of you as your stomach heaved. soon and it reached your cunt, which was gaping and clenching at the eagerness of heat's stimulation. he wasted no time sucking you up, interspersing his warmth in your soaking folds. it was ecstatic and you didn't know what to do with yourself.

you couldn't even reach down to fist his mint locks because kidd and wire had you restrained. all you could do was drool from moaning too much, the overstimulation driving you nuts.

you grunted, writhing in pain and pleasure as that same warmth pooled in your stomach once more. you had lost track of the number of times you came. it was starting to feel numb and you had lost all sanity to even think about how filthy you look right now, sitting down the damp fabric of kidd's couch soaked with your juices.

it tickles when heat eats you out, so you were wriggling in your seat as he refused to breathe out and continued suffocating himself with your cunt. you mumbled curses and insults, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you choked out a moan when you finally came. your thighs shook and you panted like hell. heat gave you one last kiss on your inner thigh before wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

kidd carried your limp body towards his bed, you hadn't notice he was completely naked now if not for his cock poking your back when he carried you bridal style. you were so clearly out of it, eyes half lidded and hazy.

"oi, oi." kidd had a grip on your jaw, kissing your nose afterward. "think you can do more than have a couple of orgasms, aye? come on, that all you got? let's enjoy ourselves, hm?" kidd really does his best rile you up in any fucking situation and it irritated you.

"fuck, this really is a punishment." you covered your face, still blushing from the previous encounters. "will you go easy on me, kidd?" you peeked between your fingers but he just laughed at you.

instead, he flipped your frame the other way where your ass is facing him and you were facing the guys. his favorite position always. you were on your fours, he bent down to whisper in your ear. "never." he bit on your ear before pushing your head down the bed and sliding his cock so mercilessly in you. it helped that you were so wet that he was able to push right through.

you groaned in the sheets, fisting it so hard it ripped a little. your muffled screams were soon turned into cacophonous moans that said a lot about how good you felt when he pinned your arms behind you and held your neck up from behind.

"see them? they're just as hungry for you, waiting for me to be finished with you." kidd whispered in your ear, his pace unforgiving as he continued to kept pulsing on your cervix, holding your jaw so you could take a good look at the others pleasuring themselves at the sight of you. "you see, we wouldn't have to go this rough if you had just told us you missed us. didn't have to go an extra mile and mess around with some damn nobodies, hm? so take it like a fuckin' brat that you are."

girl 😳😳😳😳 when i tell you i FLIPPED when i got the request i 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ thank you so much for the request anon! 🥰🌷 i hope you liked this :)

this was so good omfg 😩 idk why i think wire is a fucking baddie AHAHJZSGHSHS think i saw a hot fanart of him 🥺

if you guys are interested in requesting a fic for my 500 followers event, my askbox is open! click here for the main event post for more info :DD i have open slots for forced proximity, hurt to comfort, fantasy, he puts you in your place (smut), and modern aus!

[sitronsangbody]

Thank you for asking!

There are a lot of factors that go into this, including but not limited to (and in no particular order):

- not everyone has access to good nutrition. Some people can't afford fresh produce, some have no ability to store it, and some live in places where you plainly can't get a lot of foods (so-called food deserts). For some, it's low variety and heavily processed foods, or nothing.

- a number of medical conditions cause weight gain and/or make weight loss even more difficult than it already is, this is easily googleable stuff if you're interested

- mental illness and especially eating disorders obviously influence people's food intake. No one chooses to have an ED. The most common ED is binge eating disorder, and the majority of people with EDs are in the overweight category. Anxiety and the accompanying hormones has also been shown to affect fat storage around the stomach. How we feel over time impacts our bodies a lot.

- some people can't cook for themselves. Maybe they have chronic pain or disabilities that make it impossible, maybe they just don't have the time or energy between work.

- let's not forget kids. Children often have little to no say in what they eat. They don't choose their meals, and some don't choose the amount - some get less than they're hungry for, and some are expected to clear their plate even if they're full.

These are things that are important to keep in mind re: the choices people may not have when it comes to their nutrition and the limits to individual control. But also:

- some people gain weight as they become adults simply because their metabolism changes and that's their normal body now

- some people just are fat, they're fat as kids and as teens and as adults. This is true for every society where the population isn't perpetually starving.

Finally, it's important to know the following:

- being fat is not inherently bad for you. Not all fat people have health problems related to their fatness, and as such there's no medical reason for them to try to change their bodies.

- intentional weight loss is very complex and very difficult, and statistically unlikely to maintain. The human body is programmed to retain energy, not shed it. Most people who lose substantial amounts of weight gain it back within a few years. Dieting comes with a lot of health risks and abysmal odds of success, yet it's still so often sold as the obvious right choice for anyone who's fat.

- even if you could look at someone's lifelong history with food and exercise and establish that they're objectively to "blame" for their fatness (which is of course not how life works), so what? That doesn't make it okay to discriminate against them, bully them, or overstep their boundaries. Nor does it mean that they can definitely lose the weight if they just choose to.

If you should decide to really dive into this issue, I recommend the book "what we don't talk about when we talk about fat" by Aubrey Gordon as a starting point 🙂

A core feature of anti-fatness is the "you did this to yourself"-view. People are very invested in the idea that size is within everyone's control. It's soothing to believe that all fat people are a small series of good choices away from becoming thin and staying that way, and that thin people are success stories by virtue of existing.

Any time we speak up about discrimination and fatphobia, someone inevitably plays that card. Trolls will say "eat a salad, pig" and well-meaning health nuts will gently explain what calories are. In either case, we're met with a "you know, you can stop this at any time." Why, if nobody was fat, thin people wouldn't need to examine their biases! It sure would be an easier time for everyone if we weren't so Around and Bulliable!

[ccadaver]

When Jason was younger, he loved being physically close to people. When he hung out with friends, they'd sit close together to play a game of uno, he'd laugh so hard he'd hit the person closest to him, he'd toss an arm over his friend's shoulder.

Then he was taken from the streets and brought to a mansion. Huge open spaces left no need for closeness like the small rooms he was used to. Bruce would let him hang around him, draped over his shoulders as the grimacing man pulled up casefiles on the computer, but never reciprocated. Because Bruce is closed off, just had his son move out and was grieving what once was. Sometimes he'd be in a good mood and ruffle Jason's hair if he'd gotten a good grade in school or finally perfected a self-defense move.

He went to a private school, where rich kids gloated about their wealth and asked Jason what he'd gotten for Christmas. When Jason replied, glowing with pride, they laughed. He'd gotten a first edition Pride and Prejudice, but the kids said it was a girl book and that reading is for nerds. Needless to say, he didn't get along very well.

He'd lean up against Alfred when reading in the library, but the butler frequently had to leave to do his duties, leaving his side cold.

Eventually, he turned to the family dog, Ace, and to Bruce's dismay he got the dog to cuddle up next to him while he slept. Alfred still has a picture of the first time he'd seen it, and keeps it in his wallet. He never said anything, but once remarked about the dog hair on the sheets being impossible to remove.

Then Jason, optimistic and confident, went after Joker. We all know how that ended.

His mother betrayed him, but, loyal as a dog to its master, he shielded her from the blast. He died.

When he came back, the first thing he remembers is the pain of digging through silk and wood and dirt and grass. His fingers aching. In one big blur, there was pain. Men approaching him, beating him to get a reaction. Reflexes learned from the Bat kicked in and he blocked, but the stinging of the hits grew deeper than skin.

Then he awoke, fully, in a stinging pool of green, viscous liquid. His bones ache, his skin nearly bursts, and immediately he is torn out by a clawed hand. Talia Al Ghul, with her long acrylic nails, rips open his skin as she heaves him from the pool.

Pain. So much of it. She strokes his hair, but the remnants of the Lazarus pit still sting, and she's just massaging it deeper into his scalp.

Then they're running, fleeing from her grandfather. The wind is icy and cuts through clothes, more pain. At the edge of a cliff, he stares with wide eyes as she shoves a backpack into his arms and pushes him.

He falls through icy air into shards of even colder water.

The pain fuels him, drives him to seek the shore. It drives him to anger, rage. Why does it hurt? Why, why does everything hurt all the time? His scars, his skin, his heart. He remembers Bruce. Cold, callous, calculating. Alfred, loving but too busy with his duties. His classmates, laughing at him. A heaviness like a brick in his gut weighs him down and drives him.

He learns, he kills, he fights, he hurts.

When Talia sits across from him at a dining table, she drags soft fingers over his callused hands, and... it hurts. There are no nails, only soft pads of her fingers. Still, it sends a signal of pain, of danger, to his brain. He pulls his hand back and swallows a hiss.

Then he returns, the prodigal son of the Bat. Fully clothed, boots to gloves to even a helmet. No one is touching him, never again.

He places a bomb on the Batmobile, and falters as Bruce approaches. The weight in his gut keeps him from igniting the fuse, from pressing the button. And he curses at himself, you had one job. You came back for one fucking reason, and you can't even do that.

He crosses paths with the Bat after antagonising him from the shadows. Bruce beats him, but what hurts the most is the helmet shattering. His eye is exposed to the cold Gotham air, exposed to the malicious stare of the man before him. He blinks it away and lifts the helmet.

The confrontation goes exactly as you would expect.

After a long time, he is welcomed back. There are more, now. Child soldiers. They're friendly, though wary. Though he was once the happiest of them, his new reputation precedes him. Violent, angry.

He's not angry. He's hurt. Always has been.