#so what has the vast majority of this job consisted of?

[cbk1000]

I'm really fucking sick of hearing how smart I am and then being given tasks a monkey could do.

[swamp-adder]

I keep wondering about the financial situation between Holmes and Watson after the Hiatus. At Holmes' request, Watson quits his job and moves back in with Holmes to continue helping him with cases. Did Watson receive any kind of payment for his help -- a cut of the money Holmes received from his clients perhaps? A lot of fanfiction seems to assume they were equal partners and Watson got half; but honestly any scenario I can imagine seems awkward to me in one way or another:

- Watson being treated as an equal partner and getting half the money seems awkward when according to what's depicted in the stories Holmes was doing the vast majority of the actual work and Watson was mostly there because Holmes liked having someone to talk to.

- Watson receiving some money, but not a full half, makes Watson explicitly subordinate to Holmes in an employer/employee relationship, which just seems like an awkward dynamic to introduce into any friendship.

- Watson not getting paid at all would be awkward because Watson just quit his job for the sake of helping Holmes out, and has also been forbidden by Holmes from publishing any more stories for the time being. Meanwhile Holmes at this point in his career we're told is absolutely rolling in dough, creating a serious income disparity between them which could hardly help but be awkward.

Watson's financial resources that we know of at this point would consist of his wound pension and whatever royalties he's still getting from his earlier stories, plus the money he got from "Verner" for his medical practice. We're told in DYIN that Holmes' "payments [for the flat] were princely. I have no doubt that the house might have been purchased at the price which Holmes paid for his rooms during the years that I was with him." That makes it sound like Holmes was more than paying the full rent for the apartment by himself, so at the least Watson was probably living there for free. (This quote is from DYIN, which seems to be set pre-Hiatus, so this arrangement might have begun even by then.) Which also seems potentially awkward -- like something that could make Watson feel like a freeloader or whatever.

Honestly it's very understandable why Watson never explicitly talks about money, because the whole thing is just awkward any way you slice it!!

In the earlier days the whole thing seems less awkward to me because a) Holmes had less money himself and b) Watson is just choosing not to get a job and to run around with his friend instead, rather than having given up his career specifically at Holmes' request.

One thing that makes the "Watson lives for free at Holmes' place, eats out at Holmes' expense etc but doesn't get paid in cash" scenario seem more likely to me is the fact that Holmes felt the need to give Watson a bunch of money sneakily through buying his practice -- it makes me think he felt like he couldn't pay him in a more straightforward, above-board way -- that Watson would be offended by it or whatever.

On the other hand I was also reading some stuff on the wiki about the concept of the "lady's companion", where a usually single upper-class woman would invite a single female friend to live with her and pay her an "allowance" in exchange for social companionship. The companion was technically an employee but was treated more like a member of the family. Now, there are reasons why this arrangement was specific to women: a) there were very few ways for an upper-class woman to actually earn a living that wouldn't compromise her upper-class status; and b) upper-class women were expected to stay at home most of the time, so a woman living alone (especially in the country) could easily become lonely. But it does show that there was at least some kind of concept in this historical era of "living with a wealthy friend and being financially supported by them as if you were family" without it being Weird. So yeah IDK.

[st-just]

ive seeeen you mention listening to history podcasts before, are there any that youd recommend? I have looked at whats out there but a lot of the popular ones I saw seemed to be rather dubious if you get me

So an assortment off the top of my head

Mike Duncan's stuff is both generally very good and also the inspiration of 90% of the history podcasts I listen to, so useful for cultural literacy if nothing else. (He podcasted his way into being a bona fide public intellectual for a moment there!) History of Rome is exactly what it sounds like, a narrative history from the mythical foundation of the city to the fall of the Western Empire (getting much more detailed and in depth as it gets into the imperial era). Revolutions is an anthology on what can be called the great revolutions of the modern western world, with series on the English, American, French, Haitian, Spanish American, German/Italian/French again (1848), French round three (Paris commune), Mexican and Russian (also includes a semester-length intellectual history of 19th C europepan leftism) revolutions. First two series are fine but it really gets good with the French Revolution and the Haiti series is some of the best pop history I've listened to or read. Also doubles as just a decent history of the long 19th century in Europe.

Tides of History is the only one of this list that feels like it has an actual production budget and more than one person working on it as part of their actual job. The host is the other guy whose podcasted himself into being a bit of a public intellectual (would rec his substack!) The downside of having a budget is most of the older stuff being locked behind a paywall, which is a shame because the early seasons are some of the best approachable history on the late medieval and early early modern period in Europe I've heard or seen. The current season is about the late bronze age world, and continues to be excellent.

History of Byzantium is explicitly an attempt to pick off where Duncan left off and follow the Eastern Roman empire from the fall of the west to 1452 (it's still in progress, now well into the 13th century). Also much like History of Rome, it starts off fairly general and vague but gets much more detailed as it goes. The general narrative history is intercut with semi-regular interviews with academic historians about the subject of their expertise for more in depth and probably rigorous discussion.

Speaking of Byzantium and Friends is hosted by one of the more prominent working byzantinists and consists of absolutely nothing but that. Much, much more academic - there's a level of assumed background knowledge to get much of anything out of the episodes, and and a level of academic inside baseball, but accurcy-wise this is the podcast I trust most out of all of them.

History of Japan is, again, what it sounds like. One of many podcasts begun by a grad student probably procrastinating working on his thesis that has lasted long enough for him to graduate, get married, and settle into a full time job. Vast majority of episodes are 20-30-minute mini-histories on, say, the biography of a particular political figure or part of a mini-series on the spread of Buddhism or something (plus a few much, much longer series on e.g. the Meiji Restoration). Currently in the middle of remaking/expanding a series that's a general high-level survey of Japanese history to celebrate hitting episode 500.

Criminal Records shares a host with it, but is (intentionally) less rigorous and much more bantery (having two hosts helps, them being married presumably good for the chemistry), also technically a true crime podcast - specifically about weird crimes and legal cases throughout history. My favorite episode is the one on the oldest surviving court case in the record from ancient Sumeria.

The History of the Crusades and it's sequel Reconquista continue the trend of admirably self-explaining names. They're nearly-entirely narrative and political histories, so if you're not interested in crowns, marriages and wars probably give them a pass, but very granular and detailed as they go. Crusades finished after the fall of Jerusalem and then a follow-up about the Albigensian Crusade, Reconquista currently still ongoing (in the 11th century at the moment, I believe).

Pax Brittancia is the one I just finished binging as depression-ameliorating background noise and what I've been posting about recently. Another begun by a grad student avoiding their thesis who has since become a doctor (who had previously completed a podcast on the history of witchcraft, which I have not listened to). It's ostensibly a history of the British Empire, beginning with the Stuart Dynasty (and personal union with Scotland) and moving forward with sufficent attention to detail that after five years and change it's objectively just a very in depth history of the Wars of Three Kingdoms (incl. causes and aftermath). Includes many, many interviews with established historians, including a whole series on Covenanter Scotland and whether its rise should be considered a Scottish Revolution. The narrative just reached Cromwell's inauguration as Lord Protector.

[scoobydoodean]

what do you think of dean kicking cas out the bunker with no money nowhere to go freshly human? i know it was for sam or whatever but he could’ve helped cas out

I think I have addressed this several times, but I guess I didn't tag any of my posts well because I can't find them. So here we go again:

What makes you think that Dean kicked Cas out of the bunker with nothing? Everyone always assumes Dean did because Cas isn't staying in a motel in 9.06, but how many weeks has it been since they separated?

Lebanon, Kansas to Rexford, Idaho is a 13 hour and 34 minute drive by car. How did Cas get there? How did he get a job at the Gas N' Sip without any sort of credentials or identification paperwork? More pointedly, where did the cell phone Cas called Dean with in the beginning of the episode come from? Cas didn't have one when he fell. That was part of the problem when trying to reach Cas after the fall, when Dean was worried sick about him. This is a cell phone it's implied Cas hadn't been answering, when Dean responds to his call (where Cas gets right into the case) by sarcastically saying, "Oh, well, hello to you too, Cas. How are you?" Before Dean leaves the bunker, he also notes to Sam: "This is Cas. In case you forgot, he's not exactly Chatty Cathy."

Cas also never tells Dean where he is in Rexford or what he's doing there. He tells him a town and that Dean should check out the case on his own. It's Dean who takes the time to actually track Cas down. Cas is surprised when Dean finds him, and then Dean says he too is surprised—to find that this is where Cas is working. Meaning, Cas hasn't been keeping in touch (at least not with details) despite having a cell phone that Dean presumably gave him. He did what he's often done and put Dean on an info diet. So how exactly was Dean supposed to continuously bankroll him?

I need people to understand that Dean is not a sugar daddy with fat stacks of cash sitting around every corner. He couldn't just hand Cas thousands of dollars before Cas left because he wouldn't have had thousands of dollars to give Cas just lying around, to provide for him for weeks at a time. For the vast majority of the series, the brothers barely make ends meet. They do many transactions in cash earned from hustling pool and poker. They often stay in abandoned homes when they don't have the money for motels, which also tells you, as Dean says in 1.16, that credit card fraud is not easy and they don't consistently have access to these credit cards. Even if they had happened to have a third card for Cas lying around when Gadreel gave his ultimatum, it wouldn't have worked for long. So what makes you think Dean didn't give Cas cash and a cell phone before he left? And identification he could use? What makes you think Cas didn't simply run out of that cash over the weeks they were separated, and chose to work at the Gas N' Sip and find dignity in being a human (which is exactly what he tells us he did)?

We're talking about Dean here, who plainly begged Cas on the phone to worry about himself for once in 9.01 and get to the bunker safely. He literally endured beatings from angels over Cas in 9.01. When they found Cas dead, Dean was terrified out of his mind for Cas. He very clearly wanted Cas at the bunker with them—he wanted him safe. So why has fandom insisted upon this reading that doesn't make sense within that context—where Dean just ditches Cas with nothing suddenly?

I think some people take this moment with Cas as proof that Dean threw Cas out with nothing:

DEAN Well, the feeling [of surprise] is mutual. I mean, I knew you had to lay low from the angel threat, but, uh, wow. This is some cover. CASTIEL My Grace is gone. What did you expect? Do you have any idea how hard it was? When I fell to earth, I didn't just lose my powers. I – I had nothing. Now... I'm a sales associate (proudly).

But... this does not prove that? We already have the cell phone, and Cas being able to get to Rexford and get a job at a chain gas station that doubtless would have required paperwork establishing his (fake) identity. But also, do we all remember 9.01-9.03 and everything that happened to Cas over that period before Sam and Dean (worried out of his mind) finally tracked him down? Cas is struggling—yes—but when he says he had nothing when he fell, he is referring to the days of strife that occurred literally right after he fell.

During that period, Cas saw how difficult being human is—not having powers is—feeling hunger is—having to take time to brush your teeth and urinate and etc is—and decided that without his powers, he just wanted to be a regular Steve and find dignity in simple work, because doing what he used to do without powers is too difficult. So he took whatever Dean was able to give him, got to Idaho (how and why would he have traveled so far without money?) and put himself in his own personal witness protection program.

I'm willing to accept the premise that Cas not asking for help with finances to get a better place to stay was partly influenced by Dean telling him he couldn't stay at the bunker (though Cas's tendency to keep everyone on an info diet and try to handle every problem on his own has been around since forever). But contrary to the beliefs of many casgirls (who have literally hate bombed one of my mutuals over this subject before) I think once Dean finally got to tell Cas the context, Cas understood, and I don't actually think it weighed on him for the rest of eternity the way many seem to think it did. The same way that I don't think Dean still thinks about Cas breaking Sam's wall, or Cas abandoning him in Purgatory to die surrounded by a pack of gorilla wolves, or Cas beating him half to death for being suicidal, or Cas blaming him for the apocalypse, or Cas running off with the angel tablet after beating Dean half to death again.

All of 9.06 is ultimately about Cas hiding from everyone and everything—everything he is, everything he's done, and it ends with him deciding to stop hiding, even when Dean ends the episode telling Cas that he doesn't have to take responsibility for the angels or anything and that he and Sam can take care of it. Dean puts this kindly (because Cas is questioning whether he can actually sit on the sidelines), but let me put it unkindly: Dean is literally telling Cas he will clean up the mess Cas made for him and Cas doesn't have to take responsibility for any of it. This is a human—someone who in the episode points out that he has never had powers and therefore Cas can still be a hunter without them—telling Cas that actually, Cas doesn't need to take responsibility. He can become this regular person if that's what he wants—if he doesn't have the stomach for the work without his powers. Dean, the human, will take care of the problems Cas caused for Cas. And honestly? This is really what lights a fire under Cas's ass imo (without Dean knowing that). He's abandoned who he is and used to be, and in the episode, he realizes that he doesn't want to do that just because he doesn't have powers... and he isn't going to let Dean, who has never had powers, take care of all of his problems. Which is the point of pride underlying many of Cas's decisions to put Dean on info diets and ghost him and try to handle everything on his own. It's the primary reason imo that he doesn't call and ask for financial help in Rexford (not to mention, he's seen Sam and Dean slumming it in abandoned houses sleeping on the floor so why would he have higher standards than his human friends do?). That's the primary driving force imo—not Dean kicking him out of the bunker.

[phireco]

Why I think that voting is pointless. Vote with your dollar. Stop buying from Amazon and Walmart. And take the time that you spend trolling the internet to put out intellectual writing for others to absorb, instead of memes, that provide a unique point of view. We can't all possibly think either point A or point B is right. That motion is completely ridiculous if you have any respect for probability and math. The people that are running do not represent us and we have been stupid enough as a citizenry to put them back in office again and again.

I've been to over 20 countries and traveled all over this world and seeing all different ways of living it I'll tell you what, we are looking less and less like one of the Premier places to live. I give it 20 years before I would like the places I've been in Southeast Asia where you look to your left and right on the bus, and you see a goat in a chicken. There's already more tents in the major American cities than there are good jobs. God forbid the Democrats or the Republicans have a solution. The Republicans have the same man running in his third consecutive presidential election representing half of the country. The Democrats have a ANOTHER First time nominee that no one thinks is the best their party has to offer.

So I'm not even going to blame the awful selection of people that represent us. I'm going to blame the idiots that register Democrat and Republican which make up the vast majority of this country. All of you are willing to make up your mind on an issue before you even hear it based on which party is arguing in the issue's favor. Anyone who makes up their mind before they hear an issue is a moron. And our country, in both parties, is chock full of moron!

It’s not the politicians we should criticize anymore. Consider how they pander to people whose interests they consistently neglect. They represent none of their true needs, yet still, half of the population admires them while the other half despises them. The opposing figures experience the same divided loyalty—this cycle is fundamentally flawed.

The blame doesn’t lie solely with the politicians; it rests on us. We should have demanded better a long time ago, even rising up for change. It’s not the politicians who are at fault; it’s the public that deserves scrutiny. Let go of hope for a moment.

If the politicians were truly the sole problem, where are the bright and principled individuals who should be stepping up to lead this nation with integrity? In truth, we seem to lack such visionary leaders in our society. Most people appear consumed by trivialities, distracted in shopping malls rather than engaging with the critical issues we face. For my part, I’ve accepted a personal resolution: on election day, I stay home. I do not vote. My reasons are twofold.

First, voting feels meaningless. This country was bought and sold long ago. What transpires every four years is simply a reshuffling of the same rhetoric.

Secondly, I’ve come to believe that those who vote relinquish their right to complain. Others often suggest that abstaining from voting strips one of that very right—a notion I reject. Where's the logic in that? If you cast your ballot and elect dishonest and incompetent leaders who mismanage the country, then you shoulder the responsibility for their actions. You bear the weight of our current state, the dismal future we hand our children, and the decline in intellectual capability that increasingly permeates society.

I, having not participated in the electoral game—staying home on election day—hold no responsibility for the choices made by those in power. I know that shortly, there will be an exciting election that many seem to relish. I’ll be at home that day, doing very little, but I know one thing: the only difference between me and the people that vote is that I'll actually produce something that represents my interests, even if in a small way.

I don’t vote. I see through the charade. It's a diversions that distract us from the journey of intellectual growth. When confronted with the issues of low intelligence and poor decision-making, people often leap to the conclusion that education is the remedy. They call for more funding—more books, teachers, classrooms—believing more resources will solve everything. Yet when we point out that despite these efforts, children continue to struggle academically, the response is often to lower standards instead. This results in a temporary boost in passing rates, making the school look good while the national IQ quietly declines. Before long, gaining access to college might just require possessing a pencil, and understanding the complexities of the end that writes versus the end that erases.

And then we scratch our heads, wondering why 24 countries produce more scientists than we do. We wonder why we are no longer in the top 25 and overall quality of education. Barely the best in this continent. We're just one slot above Mexico.

Politicians know how to wield the word “education,” and they often shield themselves behind three pillars: the flag, the Bible, and children. They tout programs like “No Child Left Behind,” yet it wasn’t long ago they were advocating for a “head start.” Are children gaining ground or losing it?

There is a fundamental reason why education falters, and it's not going to improve. Don’t expect a miracle; accept the reality as it is. The true owners of this country—wealthy business interests that orchestrate decisions and maintain control—are not interested in an educated populace capable of critical thinking. They benefit from a workforce obedient enough to follow orders, yet just intelligent enough to operate machinery and handle paperwork but not to challenge the deteriorating quality of their jobs, benefits, hours, or retirement security.

They have their sights set on your social security funds, too, seeking to reclaim that money to line the pockets of their Wall Street allies. They will achieve this eventually because they own everything—your future, your choices.

This is a vast, intertwined club, and neither you nor I are included. It’s a club that beats its members over the head with messages on what to believe and consume. The playing field is uneven; the game is rigged, and it appears that few notice or care.

Good, honest people from every walk of life—whether blue-collar or white-collar—continue to elect wealthy figures indifferent to their plight. The owners count on this ignorance, banking on the fact that Americans remain blissfully unaware of the injustices they tolerate.

The truth is simple: the American Dream exists because you must be asleep to believe in it.

When the terrorists attacked our country on September 11th 2001, we United as one and vowrd to never forget. Never in a million years did I think that's what we actually met was that, we're going to commemorate the anniversary of the year but they will accomplish their goal and destroy America and everything it stands for by knocking down a few buildings and killing a couple thousand people. Are teenagers have killed more since with guns. And don't mistake me. I'm not downplaying that tragedy. I'm saying that the terrorists knew what they are doing and we are playing right into their hands by standing here divided. Check out my video if you want to flash back to hell it felt To be an American in the weeks following that awful day.

[maryonaccross]

I want to dedicate this post to the top five most brain dead, brain cell killing lines TB characters have said in season one that  meant literally nothing coming from the characters that said them and have been interpreted as “wow slay they’re so smart” moments by their fans for reasons that are beyond me. The vast majority of them don’t even require an explanation.

First up we have:

“And yet you toil still in service to men” - Rhaenys Targaryen

(wow, we all lost a lot of respect for you there Rhaenys’. The second hand embarrassment was very uncomfortable)

Followed closely by:

“ And now they see you as you are” -Rhaenyra Targaryen

again, meant absolutely nothing

“ that whore of a queen killed my brother and stole his throne”- Daemon Targaryen

Daemon, sweetie, do you need a kitkat? Are you ok? What on earth are you even alluding to???? Is your vocabulary so limited that you cannot come up with a word other than whore to describe women you don’t like??

Next up we have:

“ it doesn’t matter what they want” -Rhaenyra Targaryen

Rhaenyra you feminist girlboss queen.

And:

“ You are the dragon, your word is law”- Daemon Targaryen

lmao, and you wonder why he couldn’t hold a single small council position? This is exactly where the intellectual gap between him and Otto becomes a very apparent.  I’m not an Otto fan but he is a person who seriously understands politics and achieved something in life while Daemon is a man child nepobaby that failed at every responsibility was assigned to him ( organizing a police brutality event and running amok on civilians being one example of that ) 

I’m serious, these two, Daemon and Rhaenyra, are the ones that are going to bring back the glory of old Valyria? 

(Adding to that, not really a sixth thing because it hasn’t been hyped by TB fans as much as the others but remember Jace also saying “ it doesn’t matter what they think” in regards to him and his brothers being bastards. People’s prince…? I’d rethink that )

I swear to God, anytime I see edits starting with any of these lines I burst out laughing. 

It’s honestly sad to think about how house of the dragon is a real show that cost a hell of a lot of money to make. The actors are fantastic and the costume designers, set designers etc. are doing a really good job but like… actual writers actually sat down and wrote that script and these lines. And they didn’t even have that much to do considering they had the book as source material so they didn’t come up with any of the major plot points. I might make a separate post about this but all they had to do was alter a few characters if they want to and give them believable motivations. And I cannot think of a single character in this show that has actual reasons to be doing what they are doing and whose plans and motivations stay consistent throughout the show (take Rhaenyra, Alicent, and the Velaryons for example)

[plumadot]

Can I add some things for the new artist? I am someone who was taught by themself as well. Just keep at it, find artist you can talk to/share your art with. You can ask artist you admire if they will redline/help! Some won't don't be disappointed with that Use references! They are no cheating at all, youtube is your friend too. As are sites with deviantart they have so many good tutorials! There are free programs to use and plenty of people that offer free brushes too You will learn over time, one thing I found out is do not worry about being consistant you really don't need that unless you are working a job in animation and such. Its good to have a lot of styles!!! Play around with them, cause you have the advantage of switching things up when another gets boring Stretch! Do stretches! Leave your work area every hour for a break. If you start hurting, stop! Save your wrist you will thank yourself As someone who has been drawing a good 30 some years now. Things you see in your head will rarely be on canvas. But the great thing is, you will make happy accidents. Like Bob Ross says and something I live by, I will be drawing and then bam! Something different happened and it looks SO much better Also warm up and cool down before and after drawing. Warm ups aren't meant to be good, just some silly doodles. But sometimes those doodles turn into something better in the end. Just keep at it we all believe in you!! You will get to where you want to be trust me! Even after all this time i'm still learning and getting better and its honestly an exciting journey!

really good tips, thanks for sharing!!!

if you wanna do digital art and don't know what kinds of software are good, ask your favourite artists what they use! there's an art community for a reason, the vast majority of people really want to help each other out <3

also art journeys have ups and downs so try not to be discouraged when things aren't going well for a little while. just give it a little rest and draw again when you feel like it <3

[sefusneezed]

World Building Proposal: Let me know if this vibes with what you and your friends have got so far:

Archmagos Von Kuronos has set aside sections of Ineptus Anser's surface for "Development by Off-World Benefactors." These areas are FAR from his home in the capital hive city. They were also formerly the domains of some annoying challengers to the Archmagos authority. Now they are the homes to the following three groups:

A tau expeditionary group led by a water caste spy-mistress and her ethereal wife. Their relationship is forbidden but they don't care. The ethereal never wanted to be a leader, she was just born into the job, so she lets her wife call the shots. This has resulted in a lot of support for water caste projects while everyone else gets secondary priority. The other castes are getting a bit disgruntled by this favoritism but are too paranoid to act, because of the spies. Life for humans within their territory is almost utopian, with conditional access to food, shelter and health-care. The Tau pay their dues to the Archmagos by importing food to his hive.

Ork Mek-boy clan called "Da Scrappa 'Eads" that are more interested in tinkering with "Tekmologee" than doing a waaaaugh. Scrappa'Eads own several reclamation facilities, a squig-power plant, and an "Aka-dumb-me fer Runts!" Because of mandatory enrollment in the academy, the vast majority of the orks are Mek-Boys and Bionorks. Runts that attempt to escape their education, as well as rebellious human slaves, will get arrested and imprisoned by The Git-Catchers, a grot and squig police department. Speaking of squigs, the orks were able to breed the beasts to be able to convert toxic waste into high quality fuel. Which is what they use to pay rent to Kuronos.

Chaos warband consisting of a Iron Warrior Warpsmith, an Alpha Legion Biomancer, a thrice-bound Daemonhost known as The Guardian and The Host, and a Word Bearers Preacher. The four (five) of them had come into possession of thousands of mysterious artifacts from raiding a space hulk. They needed some place in the middle of nowhere to sort, test, and store their loot, and so they chose Ineptus Anser. Archmagos Von Kuronos has been very accommodating to the war band, only demanding that he paid in artifact testing data in exchange for use of facilities.

So this is what I've got. I understand if it's too much and you won't use any of it. But hopefully you enjoyed reading it.

Yeah this is definitely something these morons would do all sorts of things can go down on this planet 💀💀💀 maybe not von kuronar because he's racist and the most dogmatic of the gang but the other two (who i literally NEVER post about rip all the lore just sits in my brain and never sees the light of day) would definitely just outvote him and then do some silly chaos and xenos stuff.

[sehtoast]

All of You is Left to Love Ch1 (Depowered Homelander x Reader)

18+

Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4

5.7k - Homelander, depowered and depressed, working through the motions of a changing body, a new life, and learning that love can grow and change along the way.

Warning: Homelander treating weight gain as a bad thing (nothing excessively derogatory, though), hurt with extra comfort, oral sex, vaginal sex, fingering

!please note, Y/n is written as a pre-bottom surgery trans man. otherwise, the vast majority of Y/n's physical descriptors (eye color, hair color, etc) are kept to a minimum for the sake of reader inclusivity- and also lmao i basically stole spiderman for Y/n's supe identity, so there are some references to that

It finally happened.  After several months of being cooped up inside, John finally worked himself far enough out of his exceptionally long depressive spell just enough to agree to let Y/n take him shopping for clothes.  He didn’t cave easily, and it took some pestering on Y/n’s part to make it happen, but he gave in.

Sweatpants and t-shirts were all he knew anymore. 

The former supe had spent the past few months cycling through the same three outfits– or simply loafing around in just his underwear on the couch like some sort of sad puddle, clinging to a glass of milk like it was the most important thing in the world.  All of what he had anymore was borrowed from or provided by Y/n, because now he had nothing.  Vought took everything from him.  Properties, his money, his suits… They wouldn’t even let him keep his fucking underwear. And it wasn’t like he could challenge them for anything, because he didn’t legally exist to stake a claim to what they took.

Losing his powers was akin to losing his life.  Being Homelander was all John knew, and without it, he was lost.  Homelander was dead, and all that was left was fucking John.  Ordinary, stupid, weak, pathetic John…  He could hardly stand to even look in the mirror anymore.  

The early days after losing his powers had been the hardest– and it didn’t help that he spent them locked up in a Vought prison until Y/n was able to rescue him.  The first thing they did was buzz his hair off– to strip his image, they said– and the shock of seeing himself like that sent John spiraling on the floor of his cell. 

John was often at the mercy of the Vought guards, and a handful of them gladly jumped at the opportunity to put the once strongest man alive in his place. Some exacting vengeance for past slights, others just participating for fun.  Nothing made him feel more pathetic, more disgustingly weak, than the beatings. His skin bruised so easily now, and the blood, the pain… 

He'd never felt so helpless. 

Feeling his body change and weaken left him utterly disgusted with himself.  He could barely tolerate the fucking beard on his face, but he had no will to do anything about it.  He’d been too consumed with dismay to even try.  Y/n had shown John once, and the end result consisted of several cuts along his face and neck for the web-head to dab with ointment.  John wrote it off as just another fucking thing he couldn’t do properly…

Getting out of bed became the hardest part of the day, and every task that followed was insurmountable.

John didn’t know what made Y/n stay by his side.  His love tolerated it all, even the days when their interactions ended with him unloading every venomous, spiteful word he could imagine.  He’d called Y/n names, accused his love of sticking around to mock him– hell, he’d once accused Y/n of taking the role as leader of The Seven solely to humiliate him, despite the fact he knew Y/n making a deal to take the job was the only reason Vought hadn’t killed him yet.

One day, after that taunting voice in his head pushed too hard, John even took a swing at Y/n.  

See, his protector whispered. He was using you. Now you're nothing, and he has it all.

John didn't even know he'd swung until it was too late. The web-head caught his fist, and simply used it as a way to grip and pull him close enough to hold. He sobbed his apology, clinging to Y/n as though he'd die if he let go.

In a way, maybe he would. 

But, every time, no matter how cruel John was, Y/n ended those explosive moments the same way.  Soft hands would detangle his clenched fists from his unkempt hair, his tears would be wiped away, and he would be pulled into a hug that seemed to shield him from the whole world.  Suddenly he was small– smaller than he’d ever been, and he was hyper aware of just how strong his lover really was.  Y/n would hold him until his anger faded and his eyes grew heavy with fatigue.

”Give me your rage,” Y/n would say while rubbing soothing circles between John’s shoulder blades.  ”Give me what you can’t hold anymore.”

One day, once his hair had grown out fairly well, Y/n pitched an offer.

“I could bleach it for you, y’know… Trim it up a little, too.  But, only if you want.”

They’d been standing in the bathroom, each of them brushing their teeth, when Y/n brought it up.  John stared blankly at him, his body numb at the idea. His answer had been vague– unsatisfying for either option. 

Y/n insisted that no answer was just as good as giving one.

John didn't know what he wanted. On one hand, watching his hair grow out after having it forcefully buzzed was almost… healing, in a way. But, the value of healing conflicted now with revulsion as he slowly but surely began to look like a fucking mess. The sides blended with the top and had grown down past his ears now, making him look like a scraggly mop. The ends tickled his neck, too.

But Y/n didn't press it further, and simply pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek. 

"Want me to do your beard today?" 

John agreed. He was wise to the fact that Y/n's method of circumventing his lack of motivation to even groom himself was by offering to simply do it for him.  At first, it was humiliating to need help for something so fucking mundane and simple.  But, John rarely if ever found the spark to take care of his body properly.  By now, he was used to it– but he was no less grateful for it. Especially when Y/n used it as an opportunity to practically fucking worship what little was left of him during showers.

The web-head was gentle through the process. So, so gentle. He handled John as though he was made of porcelain– and maybe he was, now, in comparison. Y/n would angle his head with the softest touches to his jaw, making sure he got every last trace of hair shaved away.  Y/n pat John’s face dry and ended the task with a tender kiss to both cheeks– especially overtop of the pink scar traveling the ridge of his right cheekbone– and then to his lips. 

“You look great, babe,” Y/n grinned as he pulled John into a hug.

John returned the gesture, but glanced away into the mirror.  He hated that he could no longer pick up on the telltale signs of a lie, and now he could feel his insecurities bubbling to the forefront of his mind.

Could Y/n really mean that?  Because the man staring back at him in the mirror looked like a fucking mess. A soft, fuzzy belly peeking over the band of his underwear, soft arms, shaggy hair, baggy, sleep deprived eyes...  What part of him looked anywhere near great?

John must have taken too long scrutinizing himself, because Y/n spoke up.

“Don’t doubt me, Johnny.” Y/n murmured against the curve of his neck. “I meant what I said. I love you; I’d never lie to you.”

And, now, here they were.  Y/n pushed a small shopping cart through aisles of clothes while John followed closely behind, his posture hunched and hidden inside of a hoodie.  Part of him was afraid to stand out, but another part of him knew he no longer could.

Both burned a pit of shame deep into his gut.

“Any preference on color?” Y/n inquired, pointing at a rack of flannel shirts. He’d already walked John through the rest of the store, picking up a small variety of shirts and pants along the way.  

“I don’t know, Y/n.” John grit.  He was uncomfortable.  Like a raw nerve, he was exposed to the world for the first time in months– and it was completely unsettling.  His heart raced, and he felt almost… dizzy.  Not only that, but he was becoming irate, too.  “Do I really need all of this shit?”

“Mmm, it’s up to you.  I just want you to have a decent setup, y’know?”

John sighed and rolled his eyes in exasperation, but a part of him understood that Y/n just wanted to help.  He does need these things, but obtaining them was so… not Homelander.  But he bit his lip to hold back remarks as Y/n lifted a flannel shirt to his chest to size it by eye.

“Fine.”

He followed Y/n for a moment longer before they came upon the changing rooms, where he begrudgingly agreed to try on a few items.  The attendant shot them an odd look when Y/n followed him inside the stall, but perhaps he looked so helpless that the employee simply decided to let it slide.  He probably looked like a fucking idiot to everyone in the store.

The first outfit made him feel… itchy.  John was no stranger to uncomfortable clothing by any means as the Homelander suit made him all too familiar with sacrificing comfort for aesthetics, but there was something entirely unpleasant about the stiffness new clothes carried.  By now, he was so used to bumming Y/n’s things, which were all soft from years of use and washing, that he hadn’t even thought about the fact that other clothes could be so different.

He consented to the outfit with a grimace. Y/n promised to throw everything in the laundry as soon as they got home.

“Yeah,” he sighed.  “A lot of clothes are really stiff at first until they’re broken in.  And, if you still don’t like them later, you don’t have to wear them.”

The next few left John staring in the mirror in disdain, but one garment in particular really hammered the final nail into the coffin.  The soft curve of his abdomen poked against the fabric of the shirt, and it made his arms feel like they were big in all the wrong ways.  He found himself grinding his teeth, and Y/n’s complement sent him over the edge.

“It does not looking fucking good, Y/n! I look–” He seethed, jabbing his gut with a pointed finger.  “I have a– fuck! I’m getting fat!”

“John, you–” Y/n began, but stopped.  Words weren’t going to make it better. This was about far more than just appearances. 

John peeled the new shirt away as though it were on fire, and grimaced at his reflection as he rushed to put his shirt back on, followed by his hoodie.  Because, that’s just how it was going to have to be now.  Y/n’s things were just going to have to be his, because everything else either made him look like a fucking clown or they were just atrocious.

Suddenly, he felt like he needed to crawl out of his skin just to be able to breathe.  He was too hot, the lights were too bright, the space around him was too small– everything was too much. His heart hammered in his ears, and John clenched his eyes shut against the onslaught of his own body.

Y/n watched him huff a frustrated sigh that turned into a soft, defeated cry as he sank down against the wall to hug his knees and hide his face.

“John…” he whispered, kneeling to rub a hand on his love’s shaky shoulder.

“I hate this,” John choked.  “I hate this so much…”

Y/n understood without him saying it.  It wasn’t necessarily that John hated having to go out and shop like some mere mud person, but that he was forced to reset and rediscover his identity– and this was just another hurdle in doing so.   To see a stranger in the mirror every time, to watch that stranger’s body change a little more every day instead of being permanently perfect from the effects of Compound V.  To see how this new life would shape around this new body… 

Overwhelming was an understatement. 

Y/n vowed from the start to never judge John for what may come with this new life, and he wasn’t about to start now.  He held a special empathy for John’s plight in that moment.  How many times did Y/n have the same reaction to his own body while trying on clothes before hormone therapy helped rectify things?  More than he could count, surely…  So, Y/n sat with John and held his hand, allowing the former supe to lean against him and fight back tears until there were none left.

The pair made their way through checkout as quickly as possible, and Y/n gave John a moment in the car to relax before they took off for home– which, these days, was an apartment half an hour from the city.  

They sat together in the back seat, and John rested his head on Y/n’s lap.  The air conditioning was on a low blast, helping to soothe the former supe’s overstimulation while Y/n stroked lovingly through his messy locks.  Music cast from Y/n’s phone played softly through the speakers, and helped settle both of their nerves as Y/n hummed and gently sang along.

”Anything for you…

All of this is true…

But the best story that I could ever tell,

Is the one where I am growing old with you.”

Admittedly, the former supe had a soft spot for that stupid song…

Despite the sniffles, John did feel better, if only slightly.  And, so, they set off for home, spending the drive in a tender silence while their hands remained joined over the gear shift– serving as John’s anchor and comfort through the unease of being in a confined space.  

When they arrived, Y/n carried the bags inside while John followed like a lost puppy.  He trailed behind to the laundry room, where he watched quietly as Y/n pulled the tags off of his new clothes and threw them in to be washed.

“I’ll do a few passes to get them softened up more for you, ‘kay?”  The web-slinger explained.

“Thanks,” John murmured, his voice bordering on a whisper.  “M’sorry…”

Y/n wondered if he’d ever grow used to hearing Homelander– well, John– he promised to only call him John now– apologize.  Losing his powers humbled him in many ways, and this was certainly one of the most prominent effects of it.

“About what?”  Y/n approached John and took one of his hands.

“F-for everything, I…” the former supe trailed off.  “For throwing this all onto you– for being so fucking useless… Now you have this rotten job taking care of–”

“It’s not rotten,” Y/n interjected, bringing John’s hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles.  “I want to be here with you, no matter what that needs to mean each day.  And, some day, when things are better, I wanna be standing right beside you to tell you how proud I am of you making it through this transition.”

John’s lips twitched as a tear spilled free.  A ‘transition,’ Y/n always called it.  Never a funk.  Never a problem.  Never anything that could allude to him being burdensome.  

“I’m proud of you now, too.  You did a big thing today, and I know it was hard.  I know that even agreeing to go out was hard.  But, you did it.” Y/n continued.  “And I’m proud of you, and I love you.”

“But, there’s nothing left of me worth loving,” John whispered through a suppressed sob. He fucking hated how much of a crybaby he'd become. He’d lost his powers and his spine.  Pathetic… 

“Johnny–” 

“No, don’t fucking ‘Johnny’ me!” He shouted, gripping Y/n by the forearm.  “I– I’m not the same man you–”  John’s face twisted.  “I’m not the same man you loved…”

“Y–”

“No!” John interrupted.  “N-no!  Don’t sit there and tell me that I’m just as good as I was then!  I don’t want to hear it anymore!  I don’t want to be lied to and–”

Y/n cut him off with a firm kiss, walking him back against the wall.  He moved his lips against John’s with purpose, breaking away only when it was absolutely crucial for them to gasp for air.  Y/n’s hand threaded through John’s shaggy hair, and the other cradled him at the neck.  Small, shaky sobs shook the former supe, but Y/n never relented until he was sure he could get a word in uninterrupted.

“I love you more, every single day.” Y/n panted against his lips, staring directly into John’s tear-rimmed eyes. Y/n took John’s hand and positioned it against his neck, allowing the former supe to gauge his honesty by the feel of his pulse.  “Powers or not, I love you.  It wasn’t the flying– or the fucking lasers, or any of that, Johnny!”  Y/n bit his lip as his throat tightened around his own words.  “It’s you!  It’s just you.  Whatever you are, whoever you are.  You, as you are– no matter what that means– you are who I love.”

Y/n’s heart thrummed heavily against John’s thumb, but nothing felt wrong.

“All of you is left to love.  Every single part of you.  Even if you hate it– I adore it,” Y/n pressed the first of a series of kisses to John’s face.  “If you despise it– I worship it.  If you can’t fucking stand it– it means the world to me!”

John whimpered beneath Y/n’s touch, feeling arousal and adoration build in his core, thick like honey and just as sweet, mixing and blending away the bitter taste of his own self loathing.  His hands grasped clumsily through a haze of fresh tears, seeking more contact with Y/n.

“There’s not a single day that I don’t want you,” Y/n whispered into his ear.  “That I don’t love you with every fiber of my being…”

John turned his head to nuzzle his nose against Y/n’s temple.  “S-show me…” He gasped, a fresh stream of tears wetting his lashes.  

Y/n took the command for what it was right away, and lifted John so that the former supe could wrap his legs around his waist.  He carried John– featherlight and eager– to the bedroom and deposited him gently onto the bed.

“How do you want me?” Y/n whispered in his ear.

“S-soft…” John exhaled with a nod.  “Soft, please…”

Y/n took him in a gentle kiss, rolling his tongue into John’s mouth to probe against him softly.  He brought a hand up to thumb gentle circles against the corner of the former supe’s jaw, trailing down to his neck, his chest, then slipping under the seam of his shirt.

John shuddered at the first touch to his abdomen, and he tensed up as Y/n rubbed gentle patterns against the soft flesh of his stomach.  He sucked in a sharp breath, tongue stilling against his love’s as Y/n danced the tips of his fingers over a ticklish spot.  He whined, and Y/n giggled.

“So cute…” Y/n grinned against his lips.  He pulled away to look down at John, taking in the sight of his kiss-swollen lips, hazy eyes, and the small patch of his belly peeking out from where his shirt had ridden up.  “Close your eyes, Johnny…”

Just like before, back when Y/n would coax him out of the top piece of his suit, John obeyed.  He felt Y/n’s other hand slip under his shirt, slowly, carefully working it up his torso.  Lips pressed to the curve of his belly, peppering featherlight kisses all over– even the ticklish spots. Especially the ticklish spots.  The kisses followed up to his sternum, and broke away briefly as his upper half was stripped bare.

Y/n stared down at John for a moment, really taking in the sight before him.  His partner’s brows were furrowed, obviously trying to dispel unpleasant thoughts dancing behind his closed eyes, even as Y/n kept running his hands up and down the length of his sides. John's build truly had softened, but Y/n found it no less satisfying than when he was hardened with deceivingly light muscle. 

Just as wonderful. Just as beautiful. 

His Johnny. 

The curve of John’s cock pressing against his sweatpants was tempting, but there was more to do before the main show.

“I love you,” Y/n breathed against John’s chest, his breath rustling the dark curls covering the expanse of it.  He pressed a gentle kiss over his heart once, twice, and then again before veering off center to seek out a nipple.  John’s tenderness to touch there never failed to send a jolt of excitement straight to Y/n’s core, and the hands gripping his hair only stoked the fire further.  “Every inch…”  Y/n came up to lick a stripe across the pulse point of John’s neck and rolled his hips in time with the swipe of his tongue.

John whimpered, and fought to keep his eyes closed.  He tried to focus on the sensations, on the comforting feel of Y/n’s skin against him.  He sucked in a sharp breath when Y/n thrust against him once more.

“Open your eyes, baby,” Y/n murmured, still rhythmically rolling his hips against John’s.

The former supe obeyed, and was met with Y/n pressing kisses against his cheek– paying extra special attention to that pink scar, just like always.  A shiver worked down his spine, and John moved to meet Y/n’s hips.

“Good boy,” Y/n praised, winking at John before traveling down, trailing kisses all the way to the waistband of his pants.  “So, so good…”  

John squirmed at the feel of his love’s hot breath dancing over the trail of hair leading to the core of his need.

Y/n wasted no time in shimmying both John’s pants and his underwear down, pulling them away entirely in one eager sweep.  His eyes immediately darted to the sight of John’s cock resting against his lower belly, and he licked his lips in excitement.

“You look good enough to fucking eat,” Y/n breathed, running his hands up and down John’s inner thighs.   He leaned down, replacing a hand with his lips to leave little love bites up and down John’s leg– nipping carefully so as not to break his skin.

Though he’d never admit it for the sake of his love’s tender ego, Y/n had to be careful with John now.  Not necessarily to the extent that it required treating the former supe as though he were made of glass, but… Y/n vowed to take care never to hurt him.  And, so, he worked upwards, gently, one hand stroking around where Johnny really needed him, and his lips dancing just shy of his shaft.

“P-please…”

“Hmm,” Y/n hummed, “but I wanna savor you… Every,” he nipped John’s inner thigh, prompting a cute squeak from his partner, “bite of you…”  

Y/n felt hands tangle in his hair, and he followed without resistance as they guided him right over that delicious, throbbing cock.

John felt a fresh wave of self consciousness wash over himself as he looked down, watching Y/n engulf his length, taking more and more until his love’s nose was pressed into the thick, curly bed of hair at the base of his cock.  Once upon a time, he’d have been thrilled to see Y/n throating him so eagerly, but now?

It was just another thing he was failing to keep up with.  It used to be that John kept his goods neatly trimmed– borderline hairless, even.  In fact, he kept his entire body maintained to the point where he could pass as marble under the proper lighting. Then along came a spider who happened to not mind his body hair.  But, even then, John insisted upon keeping his groin trimmed neatly.  

But that was then, and now…

“Sorry…” he whispered, guiding Y/n up and away from his cock.

“Huh?” Y/n inquired, licking a thread of saliva away from the tip.

“T-The hair… H-Haven't gotten around to–”

“John,” Y/n spoke firmly, pumping his shaft.  “I would fucking floss with you. Please don’t apologize for that.”

That was all Y/n said before he was using his superior strength to coax John back down against the bed, taking his cock in his mouth once more, working soft whines and moans from his love.  He bobbed his head, letting the tip knock against the back of his throat enthusiastically.  He smiled around John’s shaft with every little noise his ministrations produced, every rock and thrust forward into the heat of his throat.  Spit dribbled down onto John’s balls, and Y/n spread it all around as he gently played with them.  He opted not to spend too terribly long of a time sucking John’s cock so as to make sure there was plenty of build up left to fuck him properly.

Y/n pulled away for a moment to strip away his own clothes, but stilled when he felt his partner’s hands trail under his shirt.  It had been a while since John was confident enough in bed to take any sort of initiative beyond small acts, and Y/n welcomed the change with open arms.  

John worked slowly, hands running over every part of Y/n’s torso, mapping out flesh he was all too familiar with.  He traced his fingertips over Y/n’s top surgery scars, back and forth over the dull, faded ridges.  The former supe leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the dip between Y/n’s pectorals, resting there as his hands slipped lower to work his lover’s pants down.

Y/n cradled John’s head against himself and pressed kisses into his endearingly messy hair.  His eyes fluttered shut, and he relished the feel of John’s hands taking gentle handfuls of his rear, kneading gently and taking what he wanted for the first time in a long time.  “Mmm, Johnny…” Y/n moaned, rolling his hips forward.  

John hooked his thumbs in the band of Y/n’s pants and worked them the rest of the way down, watching with wide eyes and heavy breaths as strings of arousal followed Y/n’s core from his underwear.

“Oh, god…” he groaned, watching Y/n move briefly to kick off his clothes the rest of the way.

“That’s right… Look how fucking wet you make me.” Y/n gasped into his mouth before bringing him in for a searing kiss, slipping his tongue in to mingle against John’s, gliding perfectly together in a dance they’d performed so very many times.  Y/n felt fingers dance through his folds and let out a deep groan.  

John touched him tentatively at first, sliding a finger from Y/n’s hole to his erect clit to spread his slick onto his eager bud.  As soon as John grazed it, Y/n’s hips bucked into his touch, seeking more.  He let Y/n gyrate against his pressing fingers for a moment before joining in with motions of his own, and the moans… 

Oh, god, the moans…

The effect he had on Y/n made him feel fucking powerful.  It always did.

“C’mon, Johnny,” Y/n whined.  “Don’t make me beg for those pretty fingers…”

John grinned deviously as he watched Y/n grind against him.  He teased his middle finger at Y/n’s entrance for a moment before letting it sink in, nice and slow.  His confidence soared when Y/n began to rock against his digit, and then once more ten-fold when he felt his love clench as he added another finger and began to fuck them in and out.

“Fuck,” Y/n hissed when John focused his fingers on his sensitive spot. 

“That feel good?” John asked with an eager smile, watching as Y/n’s brow furrowed in bliss.

"You feel good," Y/n gasped against him.  He ground down against John’s hand harder, letting every noise slip free unabashedly, hoping that every little moan and groan– every whine and whimper– was building a monumental sized ego boost for John.  

God knows he deserves to feel good.

“I need you…” Y/n breathed against John’s lips, cupping his face in both hands to connect the line of sight between their lust glazed eyes.  The fingers left his core, but Y/n caught them straight away, bringing them to his mouth.  He took John’s digits between his lips, sucking them clean, eyes rolling back as a deep rumble ratted in his chest.  Y/n slipped them free, and immediately leaned in to probe his tongue past John’s lips, swirling his taste through his love’s mouth.

“I hope you can taste what you do to me…” 

John’s eyes widened, and as though his body moved on its own, he flipped Y/n and pinned him to the bed.  For a moment, he stilled, staring straight down at Y/n.  He felt a spark just then, small, an ember that could drown in the sea of everything else… but it was there.  And that spark took him.

It took John to the pinnacle, renewing an energy he hadn’t felt in so long.  A power– not like he’d lost, no– but a power to create, to undo, to unite.  The power of their shared love, and how sliding home between his lover’s thighs cast out all of the bad things, the unpleasant, the unhappy, all of it falling from his shoulders as he intertwined his fingers with Y/n’s, grounding them both within each other.  

Anchored as one.

With his face buried in Y/n’s neck, John thrust forward, affirmations of love pouring into his ear, legs wrapped around his waist that shook under his power.  Even with all of it, he still felt so soft– but in the right way.  Soft for the man under him, for the love engulfing him and twisting pleasure into his core, for the nails biting into his back.

Soft, together.

He rocked into Y/n, his pace quickening as they approached their climax together, sweat glistening on his brow with the effort.  When they finally tipped over the edge, John gave a strangled cry, muffling it with a bite against the curve of Y/n’s neck, his teeth indenting but never puncturing.  There was a sweet freedom in the ability to unleash without repercussions now.  To grip and grasp, to squeeze and sink his teeth into flesh without worry of destroying the last pillar of love he had in this world– the only one he’d ever truly had.  To fuck though the waves of his orgasm without fear that he’d take it too far and leave his lover in pain…

As hands ran through his overgrown hair, John felt content for the first time in a long time.  The tidal wave of his mind had calmed, and even his protector’s voice had quieted down.  Maybe by tomorrow, they’d return– but, for now, a sweet smile tugged at his lips, etching itself freely into his features as the afterglow left him feeling nothing short of otherworldly– beautiful in his own right.  

Y/n barely even had to try to convince John to join him for a bath.

They sat there, Y/n’s back to John’s chest, in mountains of bubbles, giggling and simply existing together.  Arms wrapped around the web-head’s midsection, pulling him impossibly closer, and gentle music floated through the air around them.

Eventually, Y/n worked free of his hold and moved to straddle him in the cramped tub.  Wet hands pushed through John’s hair, moving it away from his forehead.

“Hmm… What’re you up to?” He asked lazily, his tone bordering on a sweet tease.

“You know I love to spoil you,” Y/n grinned, reaching for a bottle of face wash.  “Lay back and enjoy it, babe.”

John rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop his lips from spreading into a wide, satisfied grin.  And who was he trying to fool, exactly?  Y/n knew damn well how much he liked it, too.

The former supe’s eyes fluttered shut, and he exhaled happily as the pads of Y/n’s fingers gently massaged the foamy soap into his cheeks, his thumbs joining in to slowly push the suds along his jawline.  

A simple wash of his face turned into Y/n working shampoo into his shaggy locks, pressing kisses over his still slightly damp face, then to his lips, all while enrapturing him with a gentle scalp massage.  John stayed like that, blissful to his core and content to just let Y/n pamper him, sighing gently as his love worked soap all over his body.

When a hand gently wrapped around his cock, wise to the fact it had been getting harder and harder beneath the surface of the water, John wanted to say that he saw stars.

But, in truth, all he saw was Y/n.  

Though, at this point?  The difference was lost on him.  And that was okay, because there wasn’t any place he’d rather be but dancing in the light of love cast upon him, hand in hand with the heart he called home.

[izzyspussy]

there's a meta post going around that i disagree with heavily and i wanna say why but i don't wanna be argumentative in op's notes so i'm making a vaguepost instead

a) i don't really remember anything in canon that would provide evidence to say ted is untruthful or inaccurate by saying jamie is "getting good minutes" at city. the one (1) game we see him play for them he IS a starter, and not only that he plays for the entire game (and is also shown to be behaving well, encouraging his teammates, and playing cooperatively). jamie mentioning that he doesn't start every time or play the full 90 every game and is on the bench sometimes really doesn't indicate that he's unfavored as a player, due simply to the fact that Manchester City is a huge, well funded team with more talent to cycle through than it could ever manage to use all of consistently. we also have to keep in mind that TL is not the real world, and while 24 is not a young player anymore here on covid-19's Earth, it is said that jamie is at the beginning of his career several times in canon. it may be unrealistic, but it's not an unreliable narrative - some suspension of disbelief is necessary. jamie is still a junior player in the world if TL so it's not a snub to him or evidence that he's not doing well if he's not a permanent fixture on the starting lineup with more established players on a large and star studded team.

b) and honestly more importantly: abuse makes you crazy. it makes you irrational and/or emotionally unstable. it truly does not matter at all if the rest of your circumstances are "the dream" or not. it does not matter if you might even personally think that bad is worth putting up with for the sake of keeping the good. sometimes people do make that call I won't say that doesn't happen, but it is really unlikely to be a logical cost-benefit analysis of a decision. so like... even if james never treated jamie any worse than exactly what we saw in canon (which i would also say is already quite a bit worse than just "sucking"), there it is not even the slightest leap to think he'd "throw away the dream" to get away, whether he could ideally tough it out or not. sometimes you make choices that are the wrong choices! sometimes you do something irrational and based on emotional impulse! that's true even if your life is relatively easy and low stress and you have a strong support network and no mental illness or trauma responses to manage! and every new factor that contributes to stress makes it exponentially more likely.

say you have a high pressure job, and it's also very physically taxing, and also you have a restricted diet, and also you just made yourself vulnerable and were rejected with no explanation, and also you recently got dumped, and also your mom is disappointed in you, and also you don't have any close friends, and also your abuser can show up any time he wants even at your workplace and push you around and scare you and humiliate you and relentlessly insult you and make sure you never feel any sense of accomplishment or enjoyment from the activity that you love and spend the vast majority of your daily life working hard at and the entirety of your life maintaining your ability to perform. and yeah, you've got your dream job. objectively you're doing very well. but boy i tell you what with all that shit you can fucking bet you're crazy too! and when you're crazy you make decisions that are also crazy!! and btw self sabotage is one of the most common maladaptive behaviors of all time!!!

anyway in conclusion: sometimes coming up with a well reasoned explanation is not necessary (and may even make less sense) when the explanation of bad reasoning has already been provided for you

[runningatypufullspeed]

@vostokmcclellan you have no clue what you have just unleashed within me. You reap what you sow. You have asked, and you shall DEFINITELY receive

Intoduction to C,honny jash 🔥🔥🔥 (no way fire... like from *gets shot)

CLAPS HANDS TOGETHER OKAY. OKAY. so chonny jash is this really cool singer guy song cover man on YouTube he makes some really good goddamn music and if you like tally hall, will wood, lemon demon (all other alternative/indie music creators and bands) then you MIGHT like him.

I think his most popular work/the work that gets most people invested into his music in the first place would be his album CCCC (chonny’s charming chaos compendium) which is a cover album consisting of songs that were originally from tally hall before jash took the lyrics and the music and like. Molded it to fit his ocs. That’s the best way I can describe it.

The three main characters of this album would be Heart, Mind, and Soul, and people (including me) GO ABSOLUTELY NUTS OVER THEM jash’s writing and singing and like general music skills are so good if you want to get into this album I’d seriously consider checking out his mind electric video first (the twelve minute one, it has 3 songs in total and they all do a pretty good job of introducing all three characters respectively).

Not only is the music like REALLY FUCKING GOOD the entire. Differentiation between sepereate characters based off of jash's artistic skills thing + motifs/symbolism for each one is extremely well thought out and the relationships between the three of these guys are CRAZY and TOXIC and RIVETING and bottom line SUPER GODDAMN RELATABLE to the vast majority of those in his audience. I would definitely recommend it if you enjoy concept albums/piecing together a story based off of several songs for me it was certainly an arduous process but BOY was it rewarding.

The lore/message itself is mostly up to listener interpretation but I personally like to think of that album as being centered around how valuable self acceptance is, how important communication and understanding and empathy is in a relationship, learning to break free from the bars that society cages one within, and just general dealings/causations of psychological turmoil. I think that what I like the MOST about CCCC tho is how lax/free you can be with your interpretations. it allows a LOT of space for creative liberty and overall message variation, and I like that. I like that very much.

OH and if you enjoy witty lyricism/enjoy having a bunch of allusions that you can rabbit-hole yourself into then you’ll probably like chonny jash . His stuff is like a puzzle but in video/music form. Anyway chonny jash changed my life I think everybody should listen to and look at the lyrics of one of his songs at least once in their life this shit is so good

Tergun 🤤

AND . AND TRIGUN. TRIGUN ISN’T A VIDEO GAME it’S a space western anime. Well OKAY it was originally a manga from the 90s that got adapted into an anime in the late 90s and then ANOTHER newer anime in 2023 so it’s actually just a broad term for these 3 pieces of media .

This is very general btw and while all adaptations go about it in different ways all of them center around the same plot; humans completely NERFED earth so they sent out these ships in order to find another habitable planet, and this mission is called “project seeds”. Aboard these ships are a bunch of humans put into cold sleep but OBVIOUSLY they can’t survive without resources, so alongside the cold sleep people are these human-made organisms called “Plants” who produce the necessities + more that humans need to survive.

Still with me? Ok So everything’s all fine and dandy, but then suddenly due to an event that I cannot disclose because of spoiler related reasons these ships CRASH on a deserted sandy desolate planet, and the remaining humans are then forced to survive solely off of the remaining plants (since all the technology from the spacefaring age was lost in the crash).

Now that the worldbuilding stuff’s outta the way, the main character is this dude named Vash the Stampede who is constantly being chased and hunted down because of this CRAZY bounty he’s got on his head and this is where . The main themes of Trigun start to shine through. It’s about morality and the lives of other people, about the cycles of abuse that lead to why people do certain things and it dives quite deep into the psychological and philosophical aspects ESPECIALLY since this is like a “kill or be killed” world and the main character ALWAYS chooses NOT to kill, no matter what.

I started out with watching the newest adaptation (Trigun stampede) but there’s no right or wrong order to consume the three medias, so start with whichever one you’d like ,,,, assuming you do want to start watching it, anyway.

Judging from what little i know about ur interests, I think trigun would be more up your alley BUT ALSO chonny jash is so good ESPECIALLY CCCC AND ESPECIALLY IF YOU ENJOY A SMALLER AMOUNT OF CHARACTERS COUGH COUGH COUGH but it's ultimately up to you, this is all assuming you'd wanna delve into anything in the first place. anyway yeah rant over . 👍

[nogoawaytism]

My second thingy for Nitpick November, because I'm not gonna do this consistently the way God intended.

It's just so... interesting to hear RWBY stans bitch about any sort of criticism regarding how certain male characters are treated. Apparently if any of us commit the unforgiveable sin of saying something like "I wish Sun/Adam/Mercury/Ironwood was treated better by the narrative + explored the unique themes that are a part of their identity as characters." rwby stans freak the fuck out and start whining about how RWDE only wants a show about a white male character. And I'm like

*looks at the vast majority of the cast, especially the heroes*

*looks at V9*

It's just so... interesting how these double standards work, because I guess a white male character getting the spotlight is ok when it's Miles's self-insert.

Meanwhile, Sun has a Chinese allusion despite being a blonde, Ironwood was modeled after Jason Rose who is half Asian (Oh wait, I bet we don't count mixed people). Interesting.

Also, Sun is an established, in-universe minority, an abuse victim thanks to Blake, which is frequently downplayed because Blake is a girl and a main character, and is therefore perfect, and Sun is evil because he isn't psychic, and expressed attraction to a main character. How evil.

Also, Ironwood is a veteran with PTSD facing a horrible situation, a triple amputee, and the only one of the cast who actually has a feasible plan. Oh wait, losing his arm made him lose his humanity, what an evil bastard. He probably lost over half his body on purpose.

Also, Adam is an established, in-universe minority, a former child slave, who has the SCHNEE FUCKING DUST COMPANY logo burned onto his fucking face. Adam should be a good faunus, and not complain at all about faunus oppression, otherwise he's a fucking nazi.

Also, Mercury was trained for an extremely dangerous job as a young child, and abused so badly to the point where he LOST BOTH LEGS. Man, white men really do be the worst.

Yes, two of these characters are villains, and yes, we should hold people accountable for their actions instead of inborn characteristics. Oh wait, y'all already did that when you bitched about them being "white men", while almost every important non-white character has been presented as a villain at some point, and the two non-white characters in our main cast, Ren and Oscar get treated so poorly compared to the other heroes. Sure, complain about how RWDE "wants to center white men" while Ren's mental state and feelings are invalidated at every turn. Sure, complain about how RWDE "wants to center white men" while Oscar the literal child that got dragged into this war is constantly the one bearing the brunt of physical abuse that we haven't seen our other characters experience + half of that physical abuse is by characters who ARE heroes and by Hazel who got the last-minute redemption treatment. Sure, complain about how RWDE "wants to center white men" while y'all treat this show like the best shit to happen to media since Charles Dickens when *checks notes* it's written by white men, which isn't inherently bad in my opinion, but in this case they write every fucking issue in this show in such an insensitive light, and are still horrible xenophobic people. Miles and Kerry ARE stereotypical horrible white men, but y'all still defend their stupid writing while bitching about white men abused by the narrative.

Oh, and might I add: the fuckers saying this stan Coco. I wonder what her allusion is.

So you mean to tell me, that expressing just a little bit of tact about Adam being a branded child slave, or Ironwood losing three limbs and being traumatized, or Mercury being abused and losing his legs, is super duper evil, but this Nazi insert is an absolute slay queen. Y'all really made a doodoo with this one, whoopsies!

Anyway, take the historic moment before Mercury rightfully whooped this Discord light mode-looking mf who's also a Nazi:

[sasquapossum]

Here's a thought on how the internet is forcing people in multiple fields to monetize their work online, in the process making the online experience worse for everyone. Here's what I was responding to.

When lamenting the "old Internet", a lot of people forget that the vast majority of the people creating content on it were gainfully employed with strong career security. Meaning that they didn't need to make money from their hobbyist online projects, so they didn't need to monetize it. This is a lot different from today, where any sort of journalist/writer/artist/filmmaker is basically dependent on making content that sells ads or generates revenue, because their entire industries have gone online, or in many cases, been destroyed by the tech industry itself.

...and my response...

Interesting point. It makes me think of what happened to typesetters (including my mother) when desktop publishing came along. It was a bloodbath. Everyone was suddenly creating their own reports and newsletters, usually doing a terrible job, instead of paying professionals to do it right. Which is fine, actually, but it did lead to a lot of those skilled professionals losing their livelihoods. A few figured out ways to make it, either as a boutique business catering to those who still wanted work done to traditional standards or by teaching others how to do it themselves better, but most ended up leaving the profession. This is what's happening to a lot of artists, musicians, essayists, and others right now - even more so with "AI" everywhere. Lots of people unable to make a living with their hard-won skills, and insult added to injury as they have to watch others do those same things poorly. And programmers, just you wait until your livelihood consists of rescuing projects that went south because someone insisted on having ChatGPT write it instead of a professional human. For a fraction of what you used to make. I'm sure each and every one of you thinks you'll be one of the winners, still getting paid top dollar to do innovative work, but most of you are wrong. You'll probably get left high and dry just like most of your colleagues, and - unlike the typesetting example - it will mostly be our own collective fault. "Enshittification" already means something else, so we need a new term for when technology both drives people out of work and heralds a massive decline in median work-product quality. (So it's not just "disruption" which has become a word used mostly by tools anyway). Amateurization? Tyrofication?

[sasubaeuchithot]

I was reading one of the comments on chapter 13 that essentially praised you for how the username YoungAndOverIntelligent was very accurate because your intelligence shows in your writing and I was nodding along saying DAMN STRAIGHT (might not be able to claim the title of no1 Sasuke glazer cuz that's naruto's job, but trust and believe I AM the no1 kh glazer, I will fight anyone who tries to disagree I fear 🤷‍♀️) and then I read your response and.

oh.

HOW DID I MISS THE ACRONYM NO OH MY GOD I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING I'VE BEEN SOOOOO BAMBOOZLED DAMN ITTTTTT THAT'S TOO GOOD UGH

Even in your inside joke of a username there exists humour indicative of high level smarts 😔

Okay but on a more serious note, I genuinely have to once more thank you for sharing your work with us.

I've sent an insane amount of Asks to you these past few weeks; at least, insane considering how rarely I generally send Asks, and how you're the only person I've sent more than two to.

Fanfiction has been a pivotal part of my life for as long as I can remember myself, and I find that it's an incredible way to, among other things, express your love for a piece of media, to make friends with people in the same community and give back to the fandom, to practice and hone your writing, and most importantly, to have fun.

It's very soothing to have a comfort read that perfectly encapsulates my thoughts and feelings on these characters and on the world that Kishi has carefully crafted but, in the same breath, basically wasted, in a fandom that I feel like so often misunderstands the point.

There are many fandoms I've been in, thousands of fics I've read, millions and millions of words consumed in the past three-four years, and hundreds of literary works (both fanfiction and not) that have, in some way or another, left their mark on me.

But Kizuna Hikari has always stood out to me the most. Maybe that sounds unbelievable. Out of all the beautifully written works I've read (the number of those is actually astronomical), I'd still pick kh over every single one of the works that have ever pierced my soul?

Yes. I can't put it into words, exactly, but there's a feeling that engulfs me every time I think about it that is so unique in its warmth.

Both because I especially love Naruto, multiple flaws and all, and because this story hits every mark that it's aiming for dead-on.

Not very many stories can achieve that.

Most fanfiction, no matter how gorgeous, or well-written, or enthralling, or in character, feels like fanfiction. This of course doesn't have any effect on how much I love it; the vast majority of the time, I long for that exact feeling of a fanmade work infused with copious amounts of the author's love and passion for their creation. It doesn't matter that it's fanfiction.

But there's a degree of believability in kh that brings about a different type of comfort.

Naruto's ending sucked. It makes me miserable to think about it. The Naruto fandom, for a fandom that insists on the show's greatness, collectively misses the point of an alarming amount of the story's arcs, characters, and overall essence in a way that has me seriously concerned for the world's media literacy.

But kh is so concentrated on, and deeply rooted in, the realistic depiction of a differing outcome and the consistently in-character portrayal of Naruto and Sasuke and their simple, but still incredibly complicated, relationship, without either of their ideals and convictions taking the backseat in the name of conventional romance; romance that also just doesn't fit these characters.

It's been three years since I first read it, and it continues to be equally wholly satisfying, and provides me with what I initially didn't even know was the idyllic, fleshed out exploration of the events following that final battle that I needed.

It also helps that I relate to/crave and ache for the, in my eyes, inherently queer type of love/attraction that exists between your Naruto and Sasuke way more than that of any other romantic love story that I've ever known.

In other words, the meticulous planning, loving effort, and skillful writing that make up your story have bewitched me, body and soul.

Wow, this took a direction I couldn't have foreseen. I only started this rant to whine about missing the YAOI acronym

okay you've turned me into an embarrassing jelly goop of a person on the floor over here 😭 I've trained myself to be good at taking compliments but this is making me blush and squirm because it is so beautiful and kind and like do I deserve this???? (yes i do, i keep telling myself, because I believe your sincerity but even my therapy trained brain is too flustered to work correctly 😭😭😭)

but lmaaaoooooooo i love when people fall for my username. the height of humor to me is making people think I'm pretentious but really my brain is just a twelve year old giggling at the word "sex"

[nothorses]

I think what's especially annoying to me about the "culturally Christian" argument is that people pushing the phrase (as a way of referring to individuals) tend to argue that it's describing a difference in what you know about cultures and religions outside of Christianity.

That's how they justify applying it to atheists and agnostics who don't come from a minority religion background, right? You don't know about any other religion, you must know about Christianity no matter what because that's the dominant religion here, which means you're closer to Christianity than anything else.

But like.

I was raised atheist by people who were raised atheist. Adults around me knew about Christianity, but because we never talked about it, I didn't know anything about any religion for a good chunk of my childhood.

I found out Christmas was a religious holiday when I was like 9; I thought it was about Santa before that, and I literally did not know what the nativity scene was.

I thought Easter was about eggs and bunnies until I was about the same age. I did not understand who Jesus was when it was finally explained to me; I received that information in 7th grade social studies class, when my teacher was explaining the divergence of the three Abrahamic religions.

I learned the vast majority of what I know about Christianity in art history classes I took for my degree, and I was, at the same time, working at a Jewish afterschool program; a not-insignificant part of my job was helping to lead Shabbat prayers and teaching kids about upcoming Jewish holidays. We discussed Jewish values and how they related to the structure of the program very regularly. I cannot stress enough that this was part of a Jewish community center in which a Rabbi worked and relevant gatherings and celebrations happened.

I would say I know more about Christianity, but it's not a huge margin, and a lot of that is repetition; things I've learned about Christianity have been reinforced and repeated over time, and that's not really true of Judaism for me. Had I worked at the JCC for more than two years, my answer might be different.

I would say that I received a lot of Christian messaging growing up, because our broader cultural values are heavily rooted in those ideas. Everyone gets that messaging. What they do with it might depend on their family's culture and religion, and it might depend on their own internal processing. I can say, personally, that much of that messaging didn't stick for me; I realized there was no "real" reason for those beliefs at a pretty young age, and spent a lot of time obsessing over the internal consistency of my own value system. I rejected a lot of them, often without even knowing where they were coming from.

So yeah, you could absolutely say I know more about Christianity, I've been exposed to more of it, and that I've been surrounded by more of it. But everyone in this country experiences this too some degree; to draw highly individualized conclusions about that based on the fact that I'm an atheist alone feels disingenuous, to say the least. Atheism is why I was questioning those things, and rejecting many of them; how is that different from other beliefs? Why does the fact that there is no higher power involved make that less significant than for those who do believe in one?

Don't get me wrong, our culture is Christian. This has an impact on individuals, and I think it's fair to say that some people are more driven to challenge those ideas than others. I'd argue that atheism does require challenging Christian ideas on its own, but I can concede that as a generally self-directed thing, it's easier for folks to just not self-reflect in that way than it might be when going through a guided conversion process.

But.

That line isn't hard and fast, and it's unfair to insist that it is just for the sake of convenience. Particularly when Christians themselves are unwilling to include anyone different from them, especially for the sake of sharing their power.

[lokittystuckinatree]

It’s my birthday, Pride is half over, and the Sylki fandom is half dead.

Here’s a useless meta proving Sylvie and Loki are closer to an Andrew Garfield vs. Tom Holland Spider-Man situation than “GeNdErBeNt SeLFcEsT”

🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛

When Sylvie was introduced, all Loki variants presented so far resembled Tom Hiddleston. By episode five, we know the vast majority of Loki variants are not Tom Hiddleston clones, (like a Spider-Man, a Loki could be anybody,) so Sylvie likely isn’t his clone either. However, since they’re played by different actors, with vaguely similar facial features, it could still be argued that perhaps Loki and Sylvie are the same individual, just the “other sex.” (Insert iconic Loki eye roll). Today I’m demonstrating why that argument is stupid.

Skin ~ Loki’s skin tone is consistently cooler and paler than Sylvie’s, as demonstrated by earlier films. His skin is more neutral and saturated in the series, a decision by Tom Hiddleston to make Loki seem more alive and tangibly real. Still, his typical skin tone is best described as a creamy ghostly porcelain, whereas Sylvie’s is a light rosy beige. Sylvie has a rougher, less polished, more ‘human’ look, whereas sacred timeline Loki sometimes verges on the ethereal. These skin details suit their characters well.

Tom and Sophia filming season two

Note: Sylvie’s skin seems slightly tanned in this image, while Loki looks as deathly pale as he did in the movies. Likely a difference in lighting, but I think it does a good job showing how different the two characters can look at a glance.

Hair ~ this is the strongest argument. Loki’s natural hair color is visibly darker and deeper than Sylvie’s natural hair color. Loki’s hair is raven black, and Sylvie’s hair is dark brown. Sylvie dyes her hair a muted ash blonde.

Loki and Sylvie side by side.

This hair color difference is suspiciously intentional, and even carries over from final concept art, official merch, and their child actors. Baby Sylvie’s hair is dark ash/golden brown in better lighting. Baby Loki’s hair is always raven black.

Baby Sylki. (Look at these little squishies I want to boop their noses!)

The two variants also have noticeably different hair textures. Loki’s natural curl pattern seems messier and tighter than Sylvie’s fluffy waves, even with too much greasy hair product.

Contrast ~ Sophia and Tom’s eyes are similar shades of blue. Less is certain about the in character eye colors of Loki and Sylvie. The fandom is not in agreement whether Loki’s (and Sylvie’s) eyes are blue or green, so I tend to compromise on blue-green. Tom’s eyes appear slightly lighter than Sophia’s, so I headcanon that Loki’s eyes are lighter than Sylvie’s too. Combined with their hair and skin tone differences, Sylvie has a lower, softer, more muted contrast between her hair, skin, and eyes, compared to Loki, with their higher, clearer and more striking contrast.

Color Season Analysis ~ Going off of that, and taking this next part with a grain of salt, as I am in no way an expert on color analysis, I would guess Loki is a winter, and Sylvie is a summer. Sylvie could be a spring, but from what I’ve seen, her hair is more ashen than yellow, and it makes sense Sylvie would lean cooler then warmer since she, as a former Loki variant, is a frost giant.

Summers typically look best in sunny pastel colors, whereas Winters look best in jewel tones. Sure enough, when Loki and Sylvie venture outside their classic green, black, and gold, the costume department decided to dress Loki in deep jewel tones such as blue and purple (the guard turtleneck, some of their costumes in Ragnarok.)

Another costume department chose to put Sylvie in subtle pastels (her tie die shirt.)

Typically, cool seasons look better in silver (grey) than than gold (yellow). Coincidentally, Loki and Sylvie are both wearing gray in the pictures above. Obviously, Lokis are to gold as goths are to black. However, few people fit a color season perfectly (I’m ironically a winter in the winter and a summer in the summer,) Sylvie and Loki have fairly neutral pigmentation, and saying a Loki wouldn’t look good in gold is blasphemy.

In Summary ~ Sylki are not genderbent clones, they’re not identical twins, and though it’s near certain they don’t share much dna at all, because this is not Game of Thrones, the closest they could physically be is full siblings, and while it would be questionable, your siblings aren’t you, so it wouldn’t be selfcest.

If the multiverse was a cinematic universe, Loki and Sylvie would be two different actors playing two different adaptations of the same character by two different studios, at most. Loki and Sylvie have different personalities, different experiences, different bodies, and different lives. Honestly, they’ve lived such different lives, with Sylvie breaking away from her sacred timeline and Loki identity so young that she’s a different gender and mostly based on Sylvie Lushton, that they are possibly less the same character than any of the Spider Men variants, from Spiderverse through MCU. Likely, all the two share is a mind, heart, and soul. To me, that’s beautiful.

⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️