#taking down a bigot and putting him in his place

[maxdibert]

Having a shitty past is no excuse for being a horrible person, and Snape was a horrible person. Snape fans always try to turn him into a tragic hero, but there was nothing heroic about him when he was just an obsessive bigot who followed a group of genocidal maniacs

Well, I think I’ve said this a million times already and explained in exhausting detail why growing up in a particular environment—lacking social, emotional, economic, or essential support—and being subjected to violence during the most crucial years of cognitive development creates the perfect breeding ground for antisocial behavior. It also makes vulnerable or socially excluded youth prime targets for sectarian groups (whether religious, political, or otherwise) that prey on their situation, offering them promises of protection, safe spaces, surrogate parental figures, or social progress. These groups actively seek out kids with emotional voids caused by dysfunctional family dynamics, minimal to no financial resources, and a profound sense that the system has failed them at every turn. They offer these kids an alternative system—one that gives them a roof over their heads, a hot meal, a place to belong, and people who won’t marginalize them like the rest of society has—at the simple price of blindly following the group’s ideology. And they do it. Of course, they do. Because what other choice do they have? This group gave them life, a place in society, and restored their status as human beings.

But since I’ve spoken about this at length before and about how Severus’s life shaped his decisions, I feel like I’m starting to sound like a broken record. So, since I’m also reading a legal ruling I need to memorize by Friday, I’m going to indulge myself and dissertate as freely as I please—because hey, if you’re going to throw hate, I’m going to grant myself the privilege of replying however I want.

Here’s a question: why does it even matter? Seriously, what does it matter if he was a shitty person? Do you know that people go to space today thanks to the work of physicists and engineers who were literal SS members? That after WWII, all the top scientists, physicists, chemists, and engineers were granted amnesty and fast-tracked into citizenships so they could work on government projects? That people working within a stone’s throw of concentration camps are the pioneers behind some of the greatest technological advances of the 20th century? And you don’t care that the products you consume are derived from the work of collaborators with mass genocide, but you’re upset that people find a fictional character interesting? I don’t want to sound cynical, but honestly, it’s ridiculous to get so morally high and mighty about a character who doesn’t exist and who followed an extremist cult for, what? 3 or 4 years tops? and then canonically worked actively to take it down. If we put Severus in a real-world, wartime context, the guy would be a literal war hero with medals to his name. No exaggeration. If he survived, he’d be recruited with a fat paycheck to work in internal affairs for some major world power’s secret projects. That’s just how the world works.

And yeah, he was obsessive. But in an era where everyone suffers at least one anxiety episode a month, where the best-case scenario is that your panic attacks don’t spiral into chronic mental health issues—can we really judge him for that? Like, most of the people I see being ultra “snater” are folks who openly declare themselves neurodivergent, and one of the common denominators of all neurodivergence is obsessiveness. All of them. Whether it’s chronic anxiety, depression, OCD, ADHD, paranoid schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder or autism. Every single one has an obsessive component. So it’s kind of ironic—and even hypocritical—for people who are themselves pretty obsessive (because let’s face it, we’re all compulsively doomscrolling here to soothe our anxious compulsions with little dopamine hits) to judge this character’s obsessiveness as a negative trait. Maybe let’s take a good look in the mirror, too.

And let me just say, no court would convict Severus of collaborating with a terrorist group. Not a single one. Impossible. Especially since he literally collaborated against said group, so any judge would happily clear him—not after the war, but the moment he struck his deal with Dumbledore. Severus is what’s known as an informant. He worked from the inside, exposed himself to greater dangers than regular agents. Legally speaking, there have been cases where people guilty of heinous crimes—including crimes against humanity—were let off because they provided critical information. So imagine someone like Severus, who, as far as we know, didn’t even kill anyone during his time in the group, willingly spilling the beans and agreeing to work as a spy. He’d be celebrated as a hero of war. Hell, they’d probably buy him a mansion in Florida if he wanted one. That’s just how our system works, and honestly, this kind of moralist posturing is pretty cringy because you’re talking about a guy who literally saved half of magical society’s asses and without whom the kid destined to save the world would’ve died in his first year at school.

You can dislike him or think he’s a jerk, but he was damn good at his job. And compared to the people he’s often unfairly measured against (Sirius, James, Remus...), he actually did something. They didn’t. Absolutely nothing. Contribution: negative one.

[keldae]

High Society (Chapter Three & Epilogue)

The trio still hadn’t retired to bed when there was an angry pounding on the tower’s front door, just after dawn. Devi blinked as she looked in the direction of the sound. “Ah. What do you want to bet that’s Jahsen now?”

“Nothing – I suspect you would win that bet, my love,” Gale said, shaking his head as he got to his feet. Yawning, he made his way to the front door, pulling his dressing gown around himself like he’d just rolled out of bed. Inwardly grateful that she’d decided to change into her lounging attire after returning to the tower, Devi followed a few steps back, staying out of sight for the moment as Gale answered the door. “Jahsen,” he tiredly said – Devi thought he was doing a masterful job of blending sleepy, annoyed, and moderately confused in his voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure at this unholy hour?”

“The only pleasure will be when I burn away that half-breed bitch’s hair!” came the furious bellow in retort. Oh, Jahsen was quite irritated, by the sounds of it. “Where is she?”

“What are you talking about?” Gale asked. “If this is about Devi–”

“Yes! That damned half-Elf whore you brought back here!”

“If you call her a whore again, I will quite literally turn you inside-out,” Gale threatened. “Now, explain to me why you thought it wise to come pounding on my door before I’ve had my first coffee of the morning, just after dawn… and in your dressing gown, on top of it all.”

“Look at what that bitch did!” Devi poked her head out to see Jahsen (indeed, in his dressing gown, and seemingly uncaring of that little detail) shoving one of the books that she had vandalised in Gale’s face. Even at this distance, she could see the little stick figures she had drawn on the old pages depicting some very interesting poses; she fought to keep a grin off her face. Behind her, she could just hear Astarion snicker as he also watched the confrontation.

Gale looked down at the book. “Oh! Those are, erm, quite… interesting diagrams. Is that one from the Quatra Sune?”

Read the rest on AO3!

[moonstruckme]

ok request coming in

poly!marauders play a prank at a holiday party where they spike the eggnog, but reader doesn’t get the memo and ends up drinking it. they find reader totally out of it, guilt and groveling ensue as they take care of them

Finally, the oldest request in my inbox! Thanks for being so, so patient anon, and thanks for your request <3 I varied it slightly but I hope you still enjoy it

cw: spiked/drugged drinks (if it makes it better they were only trying to drug bigots? (I know it doesn't really make it better))

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 852 words

Someone has found James’ eggnog. Well, really it’s all of their eggnog, but it was James’ idea to spike a bottle of the stuff with befuddlement draught, tie it up in a ribbon, and leave it in the Slytherin dorms for Snape and his lot to find on Christmas morning. The marauders had hidden the bottle in the Gryffindor common room until then—they couldn’t very well be found to be keeping prank materials in their dorm again—quite well, Sirius had thought. Still, he perhaps should have known better than to think that a room full of merry, intoxicated students wouldn’t unearth it. 

James is trying to wrangle the students who’ve drunk it, Remus has gone to whip up an antidote, and Sirius, by a combination of luck and willful argumentation, gets to watch over you. 

“Do I have wings?” you ask. You’re sitting on Sirius’ lap, his hands planted on either side of your hips to keep you there. 

He raises his eyebrows. “Have you had wings before?” 

“No,” you say, perplexed. You lift and lower your elbows experimentally. “I think I do now, though.” 

“You don’t, lovely girl.” 

You watch your arms a moment longer, and then the look you give Sirius is near pitying. “I think only I can see them,” you tell him sympathetically, “but I’ll show you. I can fly down from the top of the stairs.” 

You start to get up from his lap, frowning when Sirius plonks you right back down. 

“Sirius,” you say, suddenly stern, “I can prove it. I’m telling you, it’s probably a side effect of that thing Remus said I took.” 

“I have no doubt this is an effect of what Remus said you took,” he agrees, running his thumb over your hip through the material of your jumper. “And our Remus is a very smart boy. Considering that he told you to stay put right here, I think we ought to listen to him, don’t you?”

You’re growing sullen. “You don’t believe me.”

“My darling,” says Sirius, “you would make a very beautiful bird, but I like you even better without wings.” 

Your lips purse into a concerned pout. “Then what are you going to think of me now that I have them?”

Sirius isn’t entirely sure what to say to that.

Luckily, he sees James and Remus moving about the room in his peripheral vision. Sirius waves Remus over, spotting the vial he holds in his hand. 

“What, only one left? Did you really leave our girl until last?”

“We had second years trying to sled down the staircases.” Remus comes to sit beside the both of you. “We had to prioritize. Sorry, dovey.” He kisses you on the cheek. Your mood seems to lift slightly. “You seem to be fairly placid over here by comparison.” 

“Hardly. She keeps wanting to jump from high places.” 

“Well, yes, that’s what befuddlement draught does,” Remus says drily, unstoppering the vial of antidote. “It makes people reckless. Things you ought to know if you plan to distribute it, I reckon.” 

Sirius ignores the jab, taking the vial from Remus and lifting it to his nose. “Oh, fuck.” He recoils. “Merlin, Rem, you couldn’t dilute it with something nicer? That’s got to taste like ass.” 

“You’d know,” you chirp. “You eat plenty of it.” 

Remus snorts, and Sirius makes an appalled scoffing noise. “Reckless indeed!” He pinches your chin, not enough to hurt. “Alright, my loveliest nuisance, bottoms up.” 

Despite Sirius’ warnings you drink it without hesitation (perhaps the recklessness at play), gagging only once the vial is empty. James comes up behind you then, rubbing between your shoulders while you cough. 

“I’m sorry, lovie,” he says ruefully. “This should never have happened. We’ll have to start hiding our impending pranks more safely.” 

“Or,” Remus suggests, “you could stop trying to drug other students and then being surprised when it backfires.” 

Sirius pats your boyfriend’s thigh. “Be realistic, love.” 

“Ugh.” You smack your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “I feel…weird.” 

“It’ll probably take a few minutes for the effects to wear off fully,” Remus tells you, his expression going soft as he focuses on you. “Do you feel alright, sweetheart? Sick?” 

You shake your head, though you’re still grimacing, rolling your tongue around in your mouth as though it doesn’t fit. “No, I’m okay. Not sick.” 

“Are you upset?” James frets. 

Remus shoots him an exasperated look, but you only tilt your head at him consideringly. “I don’t think so,” you say. “Ask me tomorrow.” 

James looks a bit unsettled, but Remus rubs your leg, smiling slightly. “Smart girl,” he murmurs. 

“Can I let you go now?” Sirius squeezes your hips teasingly. “Or do you still think that you have wings?” 

James’ eyebrows lift. “That she what?” 

“I’m not going to try to fly anymore,” you say placidly, laying your head down on Sirius’ shoulder, “but you don’t have to let me go either, if you don’t want to.” 

“I can tell the effects are wearing off already.” Sirius stamps a happy kiss to the side of your head. “That’s my girl.”

[soup-of-the-daisies]

cannot stop thinking about that meta that’s like “voldemort’s ultimate goal was to simply destroy the british wizarding world” because it makes so much sense. tom riddle was a poor, orphaned, assumed muggleborn boy with a (most likely) ‘commoner’ accent and a distaste for humanity who sorted into slytherin, the hogwarts house infamous for being filled with loud rich bigots. tom riddle, with his background, could not have possibly been very popular those first few years of his schooling. tom riddle would’ve loathed the lot of them, all those arrogant, spoiled rich kids boasting about their family line. finding out he was the heir of slytherin would have been both a relief (he has something to fit in) and a jackpot (if they knew, they’d bow before him). and he uses that heritage later, when ‘tom riddle’ has disappeared and a stranger called ‘voldemort’ appears in his place. the fanatics literally kiss his feet.

voldemort is canonically a genius. he would’ve known that non-magical blood doesn’t make you dirty or less talented, because he himself is the prime example of that. espousing the bigoted pureblood agenda was simply the easiest way to gain power over the ones in power—all to send society crumbling to the ground from the inside. he takes over the ministry and ruins it, taking the first steps in tearing down the establishment; he kills regardless of blood, implying he doesn’t give one flying fuck what your heritage is; he tries to destroy the sorting hat, which would render the concept of ‘houses’ void.

personally i think it’s very interesting and appealing to put this interpretation in the context of tomarry/harrymort. i’ve always HC’d that harry will grow tired when he’s older, after he’s saved the wizarding world once (at the expense of his own happiness and well-being) and sees that nothing has changed or will change. that voldemort was a symptom, not the disease. that he and hermione and ron keep struggling, working themselves to the bone to make their world more fair and to suppress and eradicate the rampant underlying bigotry, but that it just won’t take.

and with an older harry, an embittered one, turned caustic and cynical by the very world he once viewed as his sanctuary—i don’t really think their beliefs would differ all that much. they’ve both seen and experienced the injustices. they’re both annoyed and disenchanted. harry will always have a regard for life, and voldemort won’t ever, but if anyone would have a wish to tear society down and build it back up again it’s them both.

[elvensorceress]

idk I get incredibly angry at homophobes being cast on my gay shows. anybody want the start of my fic where Eddie dumps her bigoted ass and then has a gay ole sexy time with his husband and his husband's new boyfriend? because here. you can have. it's cathartic 💕

test drive - 2K, BuckTommy, BuckEddieTommy, Buddie endgame forever / Explicit

The restaurant is dimly lit in a way that might be classy and romantic, but Tommy’s hand is also on Buck’s thigh. And he’s having a lot of very not-classy, not even very romantic sorts of thoughts. Everything is far more along the lines of, he could put his hand on my dick, and I know what his cock feels like down my throat, and why are we here in a public place when we could be back at my loft taking turns fucking each other until we’re both a mess of cum and lube and sweat and sexy bruises and love bites? Because all of that is way more appealing than what they are sitting here, waiting to do. 

If it were just one of their dates, it’d be great. Those are fantastic. Tommy likes to pick him up and take him to nice places and he smiles in a really, really soft cute way that also has an air of, I am going to fuck you until you scream and you will love every second. And holy fucking god, does Buck love every second. 

Bisexuality, man. Who knew? 

It’s so fantastic. It’s so different? Or maybe it’s just that Tommy is different because he’s ridiculously cool and hot and Buck always really liked when someone knew what they wanted and would take the lead and he could do everything in his power to please them and make them feel good. Confidence is infinitely sexy and competence even more so. And Tommy has all of that in spades. 

And Buck loves men. Buck really loves men. It makes so much sense and how had he never even considered? Maybe he considered but he sure as hell never realized wanting a man and being attracted to a man was something that fit so well. Fuck, it fits so well. 

Maybe he could even end up with a man someday? Maybe he could marry a man and have a relationship that is like this all the time for the rest of his life? Not that he doesn’t like women still. Women are great. People who don’t identify as either or they identify as both or however they choose— they’re great, too. 

Everyone is hot and Evan Buckley is very bisexual, and it just might be one of the greatest revelations he’s ever had. 

He’s just really, really enjoying being with a man right now. 

He is not, however, enjoying the thought of this dinner. Everything about this dinner makes his stomach a washing machine of anxiety. For no reason. He doesn’t know why. There’s nothing wrong with it. 

Why wouldn’t he and his boyfriend go on a double date with his best friend who is their mutual friend, and his best friend’s girlfriend. What is wrong with that? It’s fine. Should be— fun? 

Shouldn’t be a bad taste in his mouth that the wine still hasn’t gotten rid of and roiling in his stomach that is really killing his appetite. But it very much is. 

Tommy squeezes Buck’s thigh and rubs it in a way that surely is supposed to be comforting. But it makes Buck want to drag him out of this restaurant and back to the loft where he can show Tommy how good he is at fucking him now. Not just because it would be a thousand times better than the prospect of this dinner. The bar is so low on the ground, it’s buried at this point. But also because sex with his new boyfriend is better than— actually, Buck is having a hard time thinking of anything that is better right now. 

Very hard time. 

They’ve been practicing. Everything. Blowjobs, fucking, fingering, ball massages, prostate milking, rimming— all sorts of really fun things Buck never even imagined could feel so good. Not that he was oblivious to a lot of it. He has toys. His ex was into pegging. Buck might have been unaware of how intense and gay— well, bi. He’s bi now. Buck is bi now. Probably always was but he knows it now. He’s bisexual.— his attraction to men could be. But he was not unaware of sexual acts that feel good to his body. 

But it’s totally different with a real man and a real cock and being manhandled by someone who might actually be bigger and stronger than you is really fucking hot. 

He checks his watch again and it’s already 7:28. They’re almost half an hour late. Which is so not like Eddie. He’s not sure if Marisol is like that but he knows for sure Eddie is either fifteen minutes early for everything or he texts if there is a problem. Even then, he’s only ever a few minutes late. If that. And last Buck checked, there were no new messages on his phone. 

He checks again, and still nothing. Not even to Buck’s message of, hey u ok? u on the way? He frowns and sets his phone back on the table and turns to Tommy. “How long before I’m allowed to be really worried?”

Tommy gives him an amused smile. “You can be worried.”

“How long before we need to bother Athena? Ten more minutes? Five? Sh-should I bother Athena now?”

Tommy’s eyebrows scrunch and he looks at Buck like he’s crazy. Okay, it’s probably crazy. Just. He’s worried? That must be the churning in his stomach. “I’m sure Eddie’s fine. It hasn’t been that long. And he’s Eddie.”

Yeah. Yeah, he’s Eddie. But Eddie was also shot downtown in the middle of broad daylight and nearly bled out all over, and there’s not much anyone can do even if they are trained in hand to hand combat and self-defense and those kinds of things. Not many ways to defend against a sniper round that shouldn’t even be a thing. 

Not that Buck is thinking about that. Ever. 

He’s just turning into a washing machine over this dinner. That’s all. 

Five minutes later, some of it finally eases when Eddie finally shows up and sits down across from them. Alone. 

Alone?

“Sorry, guys,” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and breathes like he’s run a hundred miles. He’s hardly been looking distressed at all lately. He’s been glowing smiles and pretty laughs. Not pretty. Nice? Good? Good that he’s so much happier and at peace. 

But he’s not that now. 

“I would’ve—” Eddie checks his own watch, one that was a Christmas present that Buck had engraved with, all the time you need, and must realize how late he actually is. “Fuck. Sorry. Really sorry. I’ll buy? Unless you’ve already eaten and paid and are about to leave.” 

Tommy shakes his head and has that nice smile that’s so reassuring. “We haven’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“We were waiting,” Buck adds and itches to ask him what’s wrong, why he’s late, why he looks— like he isn’t okay. 

“Great.” Eddie nods tersely and it sounds anything but great. “They got anything stronger than wine and cocktails here? Because—” He doesn’t say. But he does make a face the conveys everything. 

“Doubt it,” Tommy says. “But we can get something somewhere else. Is Mar— Mari?”

“Marisol,” Buck supplies. Not that it matters. Not that he cares. Is he supposed to care? There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s fine. 

“Right,” Tommy says, which should say everything. Eddie’s been hanging out with Tommy for months, Buck’s been with Tommy for months, and Tommy is pretty damn good at remembering people’s names. “Marisol. Is she still on the way?”

Eddie’s jaw gets very tight. “No. We’re done.” 

Tommy looks at Buck and Buck looks at Tommy. They’re done? They broke up? Not that it’s particularly surprising. Part of the curse of dating someone you met on a call. Gotta be. Also the whole thing where Eddie has some kind of commitment issues or something because as soon as he gets a girlfriend, he has to spend all his time doing anything besides being with said girlfriend.

“So, drinking?” Tommy says. 

Buck pushes his wine glass across the table. They usually share when they eat together. Drinks, food, anything. And he’s happy to offer it to the cause. 

“Yes, drinking.” Eddie takes Buck’s wine and downs all of it. 

Eddie’s single again. Marisol isn’t coming to dinner and she’s not part of their lives any longer. Not that Buck has a problem with her. She’s fine. She was nothing really. That wasn’t going to last. Eddie likes the idea of being with someone. So he says. He’s allergic to actually having a relationship for some reason. 

The washing machine in Buck’s stomach disappears though. Which is so much better. Now, it’s just Buck hanging out with his best friend and his boyfriend. 

Maybe there’s a little washing machine. It’s nothing though. 

They order food and drinks, and Eddie only goes through a couple shots and three glasses of wine and one beer. But he eats and also drinks water and doesn’t seem inebriated at all. So, they focus on the meal and Tommy’s latest work stories of helicopter rescues. 

It’s not until after Buck discreetly hands their waiter his credit card before they’re actually brought the bill, that Eddie actually starts talking.

“I kind of fucked up. Didn’t mean to. I owe you an apology,” he says and looks at Buck with worlds of regret and sorrow. 

Whatever it is, Buck forgives him. He’s sure he’s done far worse than whatever it is. “Why? What, uh, what happened?”

Eddie doesn’t look at him. Or Tommy. He does shake his head but not like he’s saying no. More like he’s disgusted. “I let it slip that you two are— that you’re. Dating. Together. Boyfriends? Do you call each other that? Are you boyf— never mind, I let it slip. I’m sorry. That was my bad. Not my secret to tell.”

Tommy looks scrunched and confused again and Buck— he doesn’t understand what the problem is? No, he hasn’t told many people yet. But it’s not a secret that he and Tommy are together. 

“Eds,” Buck says and immediately thinks he probably shouldn’t have called him that. He doesn’t know why. But he shouldn’t. “It’s fine. I’m not— It’s not a secret. I’m not hiding. Or— or in the closet? I’m out. Now. I’m bi and—” And he’s really happy about that. He really loves it. He’s bisexual. He loves women and men and whoever regardless of gender. And holy shit, does he love men right now. He really, really loves being with a man. He looks to his side and grins brightly at Tommy. “And I’m not ashamed or embarrassed that Tommy and I are together.”

There’s a cute half smile that curves the side of Tommy’s mouth and Buck so wants to kiss him. And do all sorts of other things with him. 

“Well. Good.” Eddie taps his finger on an empty shot glass like he’s contemplating ordering another. “Still. Didn’t go well. Didn’t mean to out you like that.”

“Didn’t go well?” Tommy asks. “Saying that Evan and I are dating didn’t go well?”

Eddie purses his lips and does a slow, exaggerated shake of his head. “Nope. But at least I learned that now. Has the waiter brought our check yet? Because I’m just going to drink more if I don’t head out soon. Not that I’m sad about her or anything. I’m pissed. You think you know someone, and no. No, she’s a raging homophobe.”

She— oh. Oh, that’s what happened. “She broke up with you because we’re gay? Bi and gay? Or— you know what I mean.” Is Tommy gay? Or bi? Or something else? Buck hasn’t actually asked what label he uses. How he qualifies his sexuality. He felt weird asking. It’s so personal. Is he supposed to ask? All he knows is that Tommy was into him. Tommy kissed him and it was breathtaking, incredible, magnificent and changed Buck’s whole life. He didn’t really think anything beyond that. Couldn’t really think beyond that. 

Eddie definitively points at himself and then at phantom nothingness. “I dumped her. Because I said this was a double date with you guys and she said, well not really, and I said, no really. It’s a double date. Her and me and both of you. Double date. Except not her. Ever. Anymore. Because she had to go off about how it was wrong and made her uncomfortable and I ‘let both of you be alone with Christopher?’ And it couldn’t possibly be a date like me and her would go on a date because she’s a woman and I’m a man and that was normal. But you two are both men. Both muscular, powerful, masculine, manly firemen type men— so it could never be the same especially because neither one of you are flamey or girly or whatever, so it could never work, the two of you since neither one of you is ‘The Girl.’ Which is all bullshit. By the way. Obviously. And,” he finally stops and breathes, and there’s a hard swallow in his throat and his eyes are distant and his whole body is strung tight and if he could breathe fire? He probably would. Holy shit, he’s pissed off. Buck isn’t even sure he’s ever seen Eddie this angry at anyone who hasn’t hurt someone he loves. 

Although. Technically she did? Not hurt per se, Buck doesn’t give a shit about what she thinks of him. But she was insulting them. So. Yeah, okay, of course fiercely protective Eddie would be angry. 

“And anyway,” Eddie says, still never quite looking at Buck or even at Tommy. Never quite focusing on them. “That’s how I’m single and back on the market again.” He smiles a wide, bitter, snarky kind of smile, and steals the half-full beer glass in front of Buck and downs it in one gulp. 

(Read on AO3)

[ohholydyke]

I’ve received enough asks and messages about my process of balancing Christian bigotry and its harms with my queerness and love for god, so I’m going to make a blanket post, though ofc I still always welcome asks and questions and all:

I was raised Protestant fundamentalist. I’ve known I was queer since I was a child. Trust me, I’ve been through every process you can think of coming out of that. I prayed the gay away, I spent nights soaking my pillows in tears begging God to change me or my family, I wrestled with God and faith and Christianity over and over again, I was angry and bitter and broken and depressed and traumatized and wounded and spiteful and all the emotions that arise out of the grief those circles will put on you. I walked away from God and religion entirely for several years. I spent that time deconstructing, letting myself feel my rage and my grief, tearing out the jagged shards of fundamentalism chaining me down and embedded into my soul piece by bloody, painful fucking piece over and over again. There are still some pieces lodged deep inside me. Things I either can’t quite reach yet or don’t know are there because when fundamentalist Christianity is all you know and all you are raised in it touches every single thought and concept and aspect of who you are and how you exist. Sometimes I still find myself back in that place—screaming and sobbing at the weight of it all, at the childhood and family and life that was ripped away from me and replaced with a CPTSD diagnosis and broken relationships.

The difference is that now, I have found my way back to Christ. Through Catholicism, I was able to pray to Mary and the Saints when I thought God had shut his ears to me. I was able to sit in mass and it was the first time in my life I could go through a Christian service without being dissociated and immediately triggering my CPTSD. I was able to find Catholics who showed love and support and respect for my queerness and my politics and my pain. I am eternally grateful to them. When I was buckling from the weight of it all, I found myself (an agnostic with Protestant roots at the time) sobbing alone in a chapel in the middle of the night, feverish and delirious with grief. And there, in the depths of my despair, like Job I felt God’s presence and heard his voice. I felt Christ sitting by me, holding me, not denying my pain but embracing it and taking it unto himself.

So when I find myself back in the valley of the shadow of death, I breathe and remember I’ve been there before, and I know God is with me. I may not understand why we endure suffering, or why hatred is allowed to exist in the world, or why evil and sin and the fall occur at all, or why God allows bigots to cause such violence in his name. But I can no longer deny that he exists, and that he loves me, and suffers with me, and I love him.

[juniperpyre]

canon lily evans: who is she? part 1

there have been many fanon iterations of lily j. evans over the past two decades. she's been a perfect mother and wife, a goody two shoes who plays by the rules and makes sure everyone else does, she's been a kind, intelligent, beautiful dream girl, a genuis, fighting badass who takes no shit and solves everyone's problems, she's been a bitch, she's been an incubator.

it's hard to make an argument for or against any of these traits. we see little of her in canon, and much of it from highly biased sources (petunia, severus). nonetheless, lily j. evans has a canon foundation. let us explore.

we first hear of lily as she is mourned by professor mcgonagall, hagrid, and dumbledore. we see little to no characterization beyond the intensity of sadness all three feel over lily and james' deaths. plenty of people have died in the war, but lily and james' death seem to hit hard.

we hear lily's voice with harry for the first time in the third book, as she begs voldemort to spare her son.

we do not hear about her again besides references to harry's eyes until the 5th book.

snape's worst memory

we first see lily from snape's perspective, in his memories.

what an introduction. lily and james are at odds and it's lily that broke her way into the confrontation. she does not hesitate to command james, or to show her anger. but she also speaks cooly. she only shouts once to get james' attention as she's walking over and then chooses her words carefully. her goal is to hurt james, to shame him enough that he backs down.

we can see from her multiple insults to james—unnecessary, she could simple tell him to stop more, or appeal to his good nature, or get a teacher, or try to disarm him—that she is choosing cruelty in this moment. she believes james is behaving badly (unjustly, perhaps) and her method to stop him is publicly insulting him. the punishment matches the crime.

this all shows a decisiveness to lily's actions. she is sure of herself, quick thinking, she values justice more than popularity, and she is okay with being mean. if someone, james in this instance, has transgressed far enough outside of morality she is fine with using immoral behavior to put them in their place.

we could argue that insulting james is not immoral behavior, or that lily does not believe it is. but the fact is lily is trying to (emotionally) hurt james to protect snape when she has by-the-book options. she is not an idealist, and does not seem a goody-two shoes. (of course, she could've attacked him, but that wouldn't de-escalate. she's not a violent person, or too impulsive).

and then we come to this moment. still in the introduction to lily's character, snape calls her a Mudblood.

lily does not shout. she blinks. she responds with an insult meant to further humiliate snape.

james shouts. james is ready to attack over the use of a slur, but lily is not. perhaps this is because the consequences will always be worse for her. perhaps she knows reacting will give the bigots watching satisfaction. perhaps her emotions are too private for this moment. whatever reason, lily is in control, and she uses insults to regain her power.

"you're as bad as he is"

i rarely see this line worked through in jily fics. this line shows the deepest insight into lily's perspective. it is the first time she shouts, it's an emotional reaction. comparing james to snape may be a cruel statement designed to hurt james, but because lily did not deliver this line cooly, with foresight, i believe it is her true feelings.

she proceeds to insult james with, imo, fairly trivial bullshit, aside from the hexing. it's not that these actions are so horrible; lily is angry at james for his attitude. james gets to walk the halls without a care in the world and he clearly carries a sense of superiority. he isn't thinking about how his actions affect others. he doesn't have think about the sociopolitics of a situation until someone is shouting Mudblood in his face.

this is why lily sees james as bad as snape. james thinks he's a good guy, but he's contributing to a school environment where two rich pureblood boys get to torment whoever they like! he's not fighting bigotry just because he doesn't use slurs. james is ignorant and doing harm, like most teenagers.

lily sees the way both boys are hurting people, many of them vulnerable, and can't see a true difference. fair enough!

the next we hear of this is confirmation from remus and sirius that lily did not hate james, and that james became less of a dick. I'm sure both of these men remember james and lily overly-fondly. however, i believe their statements create a sketch of what happened off the page. james matured. there isn't a comment on lily maturing, however.

the memory highlights lily's self-control, her Machiavellian perspective on combating wrongdoing, her deep rooted anger and morals, her wit, and her strong sense of loyalty.

it isn't until the 6th book that we receive more insight into lily's character. this comes from horace slughorn, her potions master.

horace slughorn & lily evans

he remembers lily as one of the brightest students he ever had. vivacious means full of life, animated. though it also indicates attractiveness, i find it meaningful that slughorn isn't commenting primarily on lily's appearance or her kindness but on her passions and spirit. it leads me to believe that slughorn did care about lily as a person.

slughorn also says lily is charming and cheeky. all of his descriptors point towards an attractive and friendly personality, but not one with a strong fondness for rules. she's cheeky to a teacher, and that is not the trait of a goody-two shoes, a stick in the mud, or a doormat of a housewife. lily has beliefs that she will be made known, even if it may go against the grain.

we saw in snape's worst memory that lily used insults to keep control of a situation and express discontent without showing too much emotion. she had a sharp tongue and a quick mind that she used in all situations. though she showed parts of herself and her beliefs that were not popular, she was keeping aspects of herself guarded. this is shrewd and indicates a keen understanding of social politics, and possibly unhealthy emotional repression.

furthermore, slughorn believes she could have been in slytherin. he could tell that she used social manipulation. i do not think lily put on a mask, but she was particular with what parts of herself she allowed people to see. this also leads me to believe lily did not play by the rules when it came to success, that she showed ambition and cunning. slughorn liked successful students—even in the horrible political climate he saw her going somewhere.

in a highly emotional moment, slughorn says that lily is very brave and very funny. he can't imagine someone not liking her. people are better remembered in death, but slughorn is consistent in highlighting her humor. we also see a mention of her bravery. perhaps this is something he realized once she'd died. more likely he saw it in her during her school years.

the repeated traits we see from teenage lily in severus' memories and slughorn's recollection are being quick-witted, humorous, and brave/justice-seeking. she has a playful disposition and seems to have a secure sense of boundaries and decent emotional regulation for a teenager.

in her negative traits, we observe a propensity to use cruelty as a tool. however, we only see this in an intense moment. lily is not openly shown as someone with true bad traits, or as someone who changes over time, in the first six books.

james is given that complexity. snape's worst memory shows a pivotal moment for both men. this is the scene's point in the narrative: to offer complexity to these men. but is it a pivotal moment for lily? she is used to further both men's character development, but we see no change in her.

part 2 will discuss what we learn about lily in the 7th book.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

I want to talk a bit about the deal that Stolas and Blitz make in Helluva Boss.

Blitz should not have stolen the grimoire from Stolas because stealing is wrong. Stolas does need the grimoire to do his job, but we're never actually shown what that job is.

Stolas threatening to take the grimoire away from Blitz holds a lot more weight because we know what Blitz has to lose from that. If Blitz can't keep his business going then Millie, Moxxie, Loona, and himself are all out of a job, their homes, and living on the streets. We know that imps and hellhounds are on the bottom of the totem pole for Hell so it's easy to assume that living on the streets for them would be incredibly dangerous. Being homeless isn't a joke and it's likely going to be very hard for them to get other jobs seeing as they all came from Wrath and other demons are bigoted against them (like in Western Energy).

What does Stolas lose from not having the grimoire? He's been allowing Blitz to have it for many months/up to a year. We don't see anything that he's supposed to be doing other than the Harvest Moon Festival which is a single day out of the year. He takes the book back on the full moon but we never see what he does with it, so does he even really need it in the first place? What does he do that would get him in trouble or not doing it and what would happen to him if he was caught not fulfilling his duties? There's no weight to Stolas not having the grimoire because we don't know what's at stake. It makes it seem like he doesn't actually need it as an immortal demon that can simply wait until Blitz is ugly-old or dies before he picks up whatever it is that he's supposed to be doing.

We also know from the Pilot and Murder Family that Stolas waited quite a while before he decided to call Blitz up and strike the deal. We're shown that they've already had time to fill a commercial with a jingle, air it on TV, and have a graph with prophets. It doesn't make sense for Stolas to do this if he desperately needed the grimoire for his job. This implies that he waited for Blitz to feel secure in his job with his company and lose all the other options he might have had before he struck up the deal.

Then there comes the actual deal itself. He calls Blitz and refuses to listen to him when Blitz tells him that it's not a good time, ignoring the fact that he can see Blitz through the bubbles in the bath and hear the gunshots and screaming from the woman. He picks this specific moment to make Blitz agree to the deal because he knows that Blitz will have his guard down and not think about it fully.

The deal itself also removes Blitz's consent. He has to do whatever Stolas wants on the full moon and doesn't have the ability to say no. If Stolas wants to do bondage, then they do bondage even if Blitz doesn't want to. If Stolas wants to dirty talk about how sexy imps are (despite this being massively classist and racist) then he gets to. If Stolas wants to put out his cigarettes on Blitz's horns then he gets to, despite how obviously uncomfortable it makes him.

The deal also empowers Stolas to make unwanted and uncomfortable remarks. Blitz explicitly tells him to stop making sexual remarks and hitting on him in Loo Loo Land, and his response is to tell Blitz that he's cute when he's serious and touch him despite revoked consent. He does this several times throughout the show, which further proves the point that Blitz doesn't get to have consent.

People will also argue that Blitz started this by sleeping with Stolas on that first night. However, we can see in that scene in the Circus that Stolas is the one that said Blitz was there to ravage him and Blitz was only trying to play off of it so that he could escape and get to safety. He decided to have sex with Stolas because he doesn't have good impulse control, that's evident when Verosika tells us what he did when they broke up and him breaking into the palace in the first place.

The implication that because Blitz said yes to sex when he broke in means that he wants to be forced to have sex every month with someone he doesn't like is gross. It means that if you say yes to something, one time, then you are saying yes to that thing over and over again. It also implies that if you say yes to sex with a partner then you have to agree to everything that they want you to do.

I've also seen the argument that Blitz asked to have the month off a couple of times, but this isn't true. During the brief moment where Stolas felt guilty for keeping Blitz in this deal, he offered to skip the month and Blitz immediately took it. This is a big fucking sign that Blitz didn't want to be doing this in the first place and more evidence that Stolas doesn't actually need the book every month.

Stolas set up the deal for his own gain and that was it. This is why he throws such a huge fit when Blitz doesn't swoon over him and immediately confess his own love once he hands over the crystal. He thinks that he can be benevolent by allowing this imp to live the life that Blitz fought tooth and nail for and get whatever he wants. The crystal wasn't a way for Blitz to be free, it was another exchange for Stolas to get his way.

[feminist-space]

There is nothing wrong with a person who wears adult diapers. Those are an aid, a tool, to help that person be more mobile and preserve their dignity.

If someone has tremors in their hands and needs help picking up everyday objects, that doesn't take away from who they are as a person. There's no dishonor in muscular tremors.

If someone can't see or hear, or can only see or hear with aid of a tool, a piece of technology, that's fine! Here's a really simple one: so many of us wear glasses because our eyes can't do the thing on their own.

Having disabilities doesn't take away from who a person is. Mocking someone for needing aid to do things, however, is morally repugnant. And using ableism to put down or mock someone who themselves is morally reprehensible is still never ok.

It is important for all of us to re-examine how we, too, perform ableist acts in our daily lives. Here are some simple ones:

Stop using ableist words (check out this page: https://www.autistichoya.com/p/ableist-words-and-terms-to-avoid.html).

Stop calling disabled people "inspirational" and using them as a way to say "if they can do it then so can you" (see: paralympic commentaries from the same people who still support organizations like Autism Speaks -- https://www.themarysue.com/the-autism-speaks-controversy-explained/).

Stop mocking people for not being able to move the way you think they should move.

Stop calling bigots "crazy" (their bigotry isn't a mental illness).

Stop saying that "only disabled and immuno-compromised people are at risk from COVID-19" when what is unsaid after that is "so that's why I don't need to care about it or take any precautions."

Stop calling someone "blind" or "deaf" when they're being ignorant.

Stop making fun of someone for taking an elevator or using a motorized scooter at the store.

Eliminate the stigma of disabled people asking for accessibility by making things accessible in the first place.

When you're in a position to design things, physical or otherwise (buildings, software, apps), think about accessibility.

Actively learn from disability activists, what things are actually helpful and actually accessible. Incorporate those things into your design.

Hire and elevate to positions of leadership people with disabilities (and if your gut response is "but we hire by merit," I challenge you: are you telling me you don't think disabled folks can perform the duties of leaders in your organization? What are you saying, exactly?).

Change your organization to be supportive to disabled employees, and get rid of policies that marginalize them.

There's a whole LOT of ableism weaved in to literally everything. Even if we don't get it all in one go (and we won't), it's important to put in the work to do better.

--

Before someone comments with these:

"what's wrong with people?"

Ableism is EVERYWHERE, it is in EVERYTHING in this world and we have to actively work against it. Don't assume you're exempt. None of us are.

"who says these things?" "who does these things?"

A lot of people. A lot of people you might love. A lot of people that might include us (likely, actually). These mostly aren't monsters in alleyways saying and doing ableist things.

It's the nurse getting annoyed at the person using a wheelchair for having their wheelchair there. It's the dude at the gym who tells his friend that if those paralympians can do it, they definitely can do it. It's the person who keeps telling their friend with long covid to just do more yoga. It's the liberal angry at Trump who mocks him by saying he wears adult diapers. It's the person who builds a business branded and marketed on being kumbaya "we're so progressive" but they made their doors so heavy that they're hard for anyone to open and definitely impossible to open for a wheelchair user. It's the boomer telling a young person using a disabled parking spot that young people can't be disabled. It is literally everywhere. It's that guy telling disabled people they shouldn't be out past sunset ("we're disabled, Daniel, we're not werewolves."--Jen L Rossman).

--

Reading list, obviously not exhaustive:

https://thebodyisnotanapology.com/magazine/14-black-disabled-women-reminding-us-of-our-power/

https://thedailytexan.com/2018/03/23/stop-using-ableist-language-and-call-out-others-who-use-it

https://www.autistichoya.com/p/ableist-words-and-terms-to-avoid.html

https://www.tolerance.org/magazine/no-joking-matter-words-and-disability

https://diaryofadisabledperson.blog/

https://www.thegauntlet.news/p/disabled-peoples-exclusion-from-indoor

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/being-grabbed-pushed-touched-without-27376323

https://www.sociability.app/blog/the-medical-vs-social-model-of-disability

[interstellarlyinlove]

Star-crossed lovers (May 9th)

tw mention of abuse

word count: 590

@wolfstarmicrofic

“We can’t, Remus. I’m sorry,” Sirius says and he hates himself. He told himself he wouldn’t cry but he’s crying and he hates himself. 

Remus looks lost, like he really can’t believe or understand what Sirius is saying. “I– Sirius, love, are you okay? Did something happen?” he reaches out to touch Sirius’ face but Sirius steps away and shakes his head. He has to do this. He reminds himself that he has to do this, for Remus. 

Sirius suddenly wishes they were anywhere but here, on top of the Astronomy Tower. This is where Sirius kissed Remus for the first time. Sirius hates himself. “I– we–” Sirius breathes out steadily and tries to summon every last bit of feigned courage and overwhelming love he has for Remus. He says, “This isn’t working out. Between us, I mean. We work better as friends, Remus.” His voice is harsh and he’s no longer crying. Sirius finds pretending to be cruel as easy as breathing. He’s worked so hard for that not to be true but it is. Being cruel is easy for him.

Remus takes a step back. Sirius wishes he’d stop looking at him like that. Remus is looking at him like he’s just put out all the stars in the night sky. 

Remus blinks and a single tear escapes, streaming down his face. Sirius wants to look away but he can’t. Remus is crying because of him. Remus looks completely heartbroken, and Sirius is responsible. Sirius doesn’t deserve to look away.

Remus smiles, and his miserable smile is the last blow that makes Sirius’ heart shatter into a million horrible pieces. “Sirius, that’s– you don’t have to apologize for that. I value–” Remus’ voice breaks. Sirius wants to scream. But he can’t. “You’re my friend before anything else, Sirius. If that’s what you want.”

It isn’t what he wants. It’s the last thing he wants.  “It is. I’m sorry, Remus.”

Remus shakes his head, chuckling humorlessly. “Please, stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for, Sirius. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel–”

“No. No, you did nothing wrong, Remus,” Sirius says because he couldn’t help himself. “Remus, you’re– this is not what–” Sirius tries to breathe but he can’t. He closes his eyes and remembers why he’s doing this in the first place. He remembers Walburga storming into his room on the last day of Christmas break with an open letter in her hand. 

Walburga Black is a lot of things– bigoted, boring, cruel, horrible– the list goes on and on. But more than anything she is honest. She doesn’t bluff. Her warnings are more promises than threats and–

“Sirius?”

Sirius blinks and really looks at Remus. There is no way Walburga Black is going to hurt anyone Sirius loves. Especially not Remus. Not while Sirius is alive. No way. If only Walburga had taken it out on him. If only she’d done anything else. Anything but hitting Sirius where it hurts, twisting his arm and forcing him to give up the most important thing in his life. Sirius can’t say anything. He’s just staring at Remus. He doesn’t have it in him to continue lying at this point. 

Remus stares back, and his eyes are the most beautiful thing in the universe. He smiles, again. “That’s– it’s okay, Sirius. I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”

Sirius nods. He can’t speak, he can barely breathe. He nods again. 

Remus leaves, and Sirius is alone. But Remus is safe, and that’s what matters, Sirius’ heart be damned.    

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

HAPPY 1K!!!! That's SO exciting and well deserved!!

Might I humbly request a ficlet with...

Z. "You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"

and ⭐Celebrity AU

Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! 🍓

I'm celebrating 1k followers, requests are open

Just how much I'll do

Rated: M

Words: 989

Tags: Celebrity AU, modern AU, rockstar Eddie, nepo baby Steve, fake dating, sexual tension, finger sucking, enemies to lovers

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

“Ah, there they are,” Eddie says. “Took them long enough.” 

Steve stops chatting with the waitress to follow his gaze. Something is glinting beyond their window, in the tiny space between two cars on the other side of the dark street. A camera. The waitress hurriedly puts down their dessert and scurries off. Steve watches her go with a disappointed frown. Using the moment of distraction, Eddie reaches out across the table and tangles their fingers together. 

The frown melts into a bitchy scowl and Steve flinches like Eddie’s hand is something gross. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Eddie laughs, loud and unashamed in the hushed quiet of the restaurant.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos. He flips their entwined hands so they’re facing the window, running his thumb over Steve’s knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion. His smile is wide and teasing as he leans over the table and into Steve’s space. “I must admit I’m a tad bit insulted. I make an effort to look nice for you, take you to the fanciest restaurant in town, and you’ve got nothing better to do than flirt with the waitress all night? Why, Stevie, do you even still love me?” 

“Quit it, Munson,” Steve snaps, trying to yank his hand away, but Eddie holds firm. A few quizzical heads turn in their direction and he’s quick to stop struggling. When he speaks again, his voice is a low hiss. “You know as well as me that this is all a publicity stunt. Don’t forget about the deal.” 

“Sure,” Eddie drawls, snatching a chocolate-coated strawberry from his plate and popping it into his mouth. The chocolate bursts between his teeth and tangy, juicy sweetness explodes all over his taste buds, making him hum in pleasure. The place may be way out of his comfort zone, markedly different from his usual dark and edgy night clubs, but at least the food is excellent. “We go on a few dates together, let our friends out there take their little photos, write their little news stories. After a few months, we break it off amicably - no hard feelings, you’ll always be special to me, yadda yadda. My label gets off my ass about my ‘out of control’ lifestyle, your old man gets to beat those completely unfounded allegations of homophobia just in time for the big election. Look how supportive he is of his queer son, after all. A true champ, a beacon of tolerance and open-mindedness, a shining example for all of us.” 

Steve, who has just taken a sip of his wine, snorts so hard, Eddie’s surprised it doesn’t come shooting out of his nose. He has a nice laugh - pretty like the rest of him, but there’s a bitter little twist to his mouth that never seems to quite disappear. Eddie catches himself wondering what his smile would look like without it. 

“Please,” Steve sneers, putting his glass back down with a bit too much force. A few drops of wine splash over the rim, staining the table cloth red. “My dad’s a bigoted old asshole and we both know it.” 

The hand that’s still tangled with Eddie’s tightens, almost painfully. A small part of Eddie imagines the things Senator Harrington must call his darling son behind closed doors. 

“Makes me wonder, though,” is what he says, “why you agreed to play along in this little farce? Why help him out if he’s such a douchebag?” 

For a second, something pokes through the facade of bored indifference on Steve’s face, something open and vulnerable and honest. Eddie wants to grab a hold of it and pull it all the way to the surface, lay it bare and never let it go again. But it’s gone as quick as it came, slipping through his fingers like mist. 

“Whatever,” Steve mutters, and the bitter curl returns to his lips. “Not like you’d get it.” 

He's right, Eddie thinks. He probably wouldn't. He hasn't seen his own sperm donor in twenty years. He doesn’t know what it's like, growing up in the shadow of an overbearing father, constantly forced to uphold your family's image, to live up to expectations. 

But something in the way Steve says it, all haughty and derisive, like Eddie isn't even worth an explanation, makes something ugly stir low in his belly. 

“Oh, I think I get it,” he says, plucking another strawberry from his plate. Steve watches with a furrowed brow how he lets it dangle between them, waving it idly about as he speaks. “I think it must be hard, constantly begging for daddy's love and acceptance, but only ever being fed the scraps. Always so eager, always so willing, but never quite good enough, you poor boy. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?” 

Steve's eyes go wide, perfect lips parting around a punched-out little sound. Eddie grins triumphantly, lifting the strawberry to his mouth. 

But he never makes it there. 

Steve surges forward, fingers closing around Eddie’s wrist. Eddie watches, heartbeat pounding in his skull, how Steve sucks the fruit into his warm, wet mouth. How pink lips slip over his fingers, all the way down to the first knuckle. Chocolate cracks and a thin rivulet of red juice trickles down Eddie's thumb. Steve darts out his tongue and catches it, never once breaking eye contact. 

“Holy shit,” someone whispers. It takes Eddie a moment to recognize his own voice. He knows it's impossible through the glass and the distance, but he swears he can hear how the camera shutter on the other side of the street goes crazy. 

Steve releases his fingers with a slick sound, tongue licking over plush lips to gather the last traces of strawberry and chocolate and Eddie still clinging to them. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, breath cool against Eddie’s wet skin. 

“Let's get outta here … and I'll show you just how much I'll do.” 

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

And then they went home and had hate sex. The end.

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Sometimes when Harry looks at Tom, he's reminded of a lesson one of his muggle teachers gave on reptiles. Chameleons that can change their skin colour to blend into their surroundings or anoles that shed their tails to distract a predator and escape – adapting in order to survive, no matter what it takes.

Harry is himself, to a fault. He spent so long beaten down and trying to disappear so he wouldn’t draw his relatives’ ire that he now refuses to hide or apologise for who he is and what he wants. It probably helps that his wants are pretty basic – good food, good friends, a warm, comfortable place to live, someone to love him – and that he inherited the money and name to easily achieve them.

Tom, on the other hand, is so used to being smoke and mirrors and disguising what he wants and what he is in order to pretend to be what others want or need. 

He’d been unapologetically (and tyrannically) himself in his childhood, his magic giving him the power to exert his will over others. But Tom is brilliant and a quick learner, and his first interaction with Dumbledore, which he’d described late one night to Harry when the shadows hid both their faces, had proven a subtler touch might be needed.

Now, Tom reflects other peoples’ desires back at them in order to draw them in, and deflects the conversation away from himself so he never has to clearly define his own position. He doesn’t change himself, but everyone seems to believe Tom is on their side – that they’re on the same page. And because of his power and charm and good looks, everyone wants Tom on their side.

Harry has seen this happen many, many times, and he’s still in awe of how Tom affably manipulates those around him into doing what he wants. How Tom determines what someone wants, says just enough to convince them he does too without committing to anything, and twists that connection into a shape that best suits him.

In fact, the only reason Harry believes Tom actually likes him is because Tom never pretends to be what he thinks Harry wants him to be. Tom is petty and says cruel things and lets Harry see him when he’s less than perfectly put together. And Harry treasures each of Tom’s sharp edges, because he’s the only one who gets to see him as he is. He hoards each truth and preference that Tom chooses to share with him like a squirrel preparing for a long, hard winter.

The trouble comes when people talk to Harry about Tom. By virtue of association, Harry’s had to learn to deflect and prevaricate and lie, though he’s still not very good at it. He does a lot of nodding and smiling and making thoughtful “hmm” sounds as people ask him what Tom thinks of this or that. It’s easier than keeping Tom’s machinations straight in his head.

There are moments when Harry isn’t sure Tom even knows who he is at his core. He is so meticulous about his public persona that Harry doubts anyone else knows which foods Tom actually likes (given the chance, Tom would eat ice cream every day), or what he actually thinks about quidditch (he finds it unbearably dull), or what he thinks of muggles (he’ll never be fond of them due to his treatment as a child, but he doesn’t particularly care beyond that) or muggleborns (new blood is necessary for the magical world to continue, but the mages with the deepest pockets are the most bigoted and ‘traditional’) or purebloods (gullible).

And after the tenth meal of eating foods he doesn’t like, or the fifth quidditch match or ministry event or pureblood soirée in a week, or the nth political tapdance before the Wizengamot, pretending to represent everyone’s interests at once without alienating anyone – and quietly getting his own agenda voted through – Harry has to wonder how Tom stays sane. How it all seems worth it. It certainly doesn’t to Harry.

But that’s Tom. Ambitious to a fault, and willing to sacrifice almost anything in order to achieve his goals.

And whatever other people might think, Harry’s not naive. He knows there’s a chance Tom is lying to him, too. He knows it’s possible – even likely – that Tom figured out that the best way to get Harry on his side would be to give him the best illusion of the truth. Show him some darkness and Harry will believe he’s getting honesty. He’s made his peace with this and decided he’d rather give Tom the benefit of the doubt and be a fool than abandon the other man when he’d chosen to be vulnerable with Harry.

So, when Harry brings home Indian takeaway and offers Tom a bite of his rogan josh, only for Tom to casually say, “I don’t really like lamb,” Harry is fascinated and utterly thrilled.

Especially since he’d seen Tom eat lamb chops at a dinner party two weeks ago with nary a moment of hesitation or complaint.

Harry makes sure to leave plenty of the chicken tikka masala for Tom and mentally notes this new preference down. He’s collected a new fact about Tom.

He spends the rest of the meal with a silly little grin on his face.

[nyahuaisang]

@reidhershel put this accurate af take in the tags of my post about heavenly delusion being a genderqueer series and I just wanted to further elaborate on it as the original post has a nsfw label because it does talk about topics such as intersex and the such so most people don’t see it. Please turn your nsfw filter off if you want to read it.

Anyways what you need to know is that a) there is a boy who’s consciousness was transplanted into a girl’s body and b) a group of children has been raised within a facility with no concept of gender their entire lives with at least half of them being biologically intersex and one of the children who has female features has been presented to the viewers by author as more male-presenting or androgynous and is referred to as “a young boy” in the manga’s synopsis.

Because of these more unorthodox executions of queer characters there is already a multitude of discourse from both anti-lgbt bigots as well as some of the lgbt+ community itself purely because of how unorthodox it is. Like Reid says, many people invalidates Kiruko(the boy who’s in a girl’s body)‘s queerness because of his unorthodox situation and a lack of explicitly statement that he is trans or queer I can imagine some people also invalidating Tokio in a similar way.

Cishet characters get to be cishet despite never once stating they are cishet. A male character kissing a female character is labeled hetero despite never saying they’re straight. A cis character is labeled as cis, again, despite never saying they are cis. So then why do queer characters have to explicitly state they are queer if they are already exhibiting queer traits?

A girl character should not have to explicitly be stated that she is gay or bi or pan if we see her kissing another female character. A gender neutral or non-binary character should not have to be explicitly stated as such if it is shown that they do not have a concept of gender. A character who has been presented as androgynous or masculine should not immediately be labeled a girl just because they have boobs. A trans boy should not have to be labeled as trans if he literally says he has a boy’s mind but within a girl’s body. A queer character should not need to state he is queer if he is professing his love to someone he knows is the same gender as him.

Cishet characters get to be as fantastical and magical and unorthodox and still be cishet so why are we trying so hard to strap queerness down to realism? Queerness has been discriminated against by almost every community and has had everything gatekeeped from it, please don’t gatekeep queerness itself from people and media you don’t deem as “queer enough” for you personally.

To be queer means to not conform to or being in line with what society’s expectations of gender or sexuality dictates you to and to then place expectations on that ideology itself, to place expectations on what being queer should be, goes against it entirely. It’s doing exactly what queer people are trying to break out of: having to fall in line with certain expectations to be seen as ‘valid’ in other people’s eyes.

Heavenly Delusion is a queer story, a really unique one where queer people gets to simply exist in a world instead of needing that world to be labeled as “queer” for them to be able to exist within in. It’s a chance for queerness to be normalized within media, don’t ruin this chance.

[radiance1]

Phantom and Plasmius get miniaturized by Fenton technology, they became what the Fenton's deemed a 'harmless' size. Literally only as big as the average baby, then they got taken by the two scientists down into their lab.

Plasmius took this in stride, however, Jack was an eyesore as always, but he saw this as an opportunity to get close to Maddie. Danny actively mocked him for it, but he was looking for a way to get out of their lab.

He's honestly hoping Jazz would notice he's missing and put the pieces together.

Their powers were a bit wonky right now, even more so after the Fenton's made something small enough to put on them to suppress their more, dangerous, powers by disrupting the flow of ectoplasm inside their bodies in the form of a damn collar.

The experiments the Fenton's performed had to be modified of course, thanks to their smaller size, but they were no less cruel. Danny knew his parents hated ghosts, but he never knew the full brunt of that hate extended so far, they didn't even treat him like he was intelligent, they regarded him as a pet- no, less than a pet.

Meanwhile Vlad, he was at first self-assured, wanting to woo Maddie this way, then it turned into surprise and then horror. He wasn't all that surprised by the experiments, no, he could see himself doing them as well if he weren't half ghost, but he was horrified that he had to participate in them.

A part of him wondered what would happen if he were to expose that he was half human, and he tried. He tried to show them that he was human, but they just wrote it off as a ghost imitating their family friend.

If he thought the previous experiments were cruel, they had nothing on the ones to do after that.

Which just made Danny even more sure that he shouldn't reveal his identity.

So after a multitude of experiments, where neither Danny nor Vlad knew how long it went on for, they planned for an escape. A plan which they acted on when Jack and Maddie left for a rather long period of time, Vlad made Danny walk out of the ghost shield since he wasn't chained up like he was and turn off the ghost shield.

Vlad and Danny managed to find the blueprints for the collar, rewriting it until the damn thing fell off their necks and then escaped into the ghost portal. Vlad was a bit miffed about having to leave behind all his wealth and the packers, but he would get over it, meanwhile Danny had to leave basically his entire life behind.

Not everyone was socially for 20 years like Vlad, so.

They would still try and kill the other occasionally, but now it was more to the ghost standard of bonding by fighting. They also formed some weird, fucked up form of comradery via having both been experiments to people they knew and liked.

They landed in a new dimension, one where quite literally nobody knew who they were or what they were. Vlad did what he did before, overshadowing a multitude of small yet successful companies and taking over them and their wealth, only the 'corrupted' ones at Danny's very vocal insistence.

Perhaps you could call it sympathy, pity, or something of the like. But Vlad used a good portion of his newly acquired money to help along the 'meta-humans' that inhabit this new dimension, with the added benefit of helping himself of course as both he and Danny would be categorized as one because of their size and abilities most likely.

Vlad drowned himself in a fuck ton of work, throwing a part of his attention into taking care of his new business and getting it back on the level that the one he left behind was on. The other part of his attention was thrown into finding Danny schooling that wouldn't be bigoted towards Meta-humans and would also serve as a place where Danny could (hopefully) become well connected with the children of high society.

Which took him to Gotham city, while he cannot ensure that the other students wouldn't bully him for his extremely tiny size, he could at least ensure the education and opportunities would be adequate.

Now he just had to find a way to acquaint himself for one Brucie Wayne and the rest of the Gotham elites.

[anticomedygarden]

they all want your white body

5 times Alex defends Henry (and Henry is pleasantly surprised) (though he should really know better by now) + 1 time Henry defends Alex (and Alex isn't surprised) (because no matter what anyone says, Henry is the goddamn bravest man he's ever met)

title is from billy joel's 'everybody loves you now'. the whole quote i wanted to use for the title was, "they all want your white body/and they await your reply/but between you and me and the Staten Island Ferry/so do I," but i figured that was too long

cross-posted on ao3

-

1. The Charity Gala

As much as Henry wished he could pretend he didn't know the man walking toward him, he knew that once those beady eyes latched onto him, there would be no escaping Mr. George Blackwell.

He had just enough time to whisper, "Run while you still can," into Alex's ear before Blackwell was upon them in all his glinting golden glory. Honestly, where did he find all that precious metal? "Ah, Mr. Blackwell. I'm glad you could make it," Henry bit out, raising his champagne flute to his lips and suddenly wishing for something a bit stronger. His words were at least a kernel of the truth for the man's only redeeming quality at functions such as this was his extensive bank account.

Blackwell gave him a once over. "Yes, good evening, Your Royal Highness." He turned to Alex. "And this must be-"

"Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry's boyfriend," Alex interrupted, causing Blackwell's face to take on a delightful red color. When Alex stuck his hand out for a handshake, Blackwell hesitated but eventually took it for a fraction of a second.

"That's lovely." He turned back to Henry. "Say, did you hear that George Jr. just finished his enlistment?"

Henry put on his camera smile, the one Alex hated so much, and said, "Is that so?"

Blackwell nodded and continued to prattle on about his son and his particularly bland life with his particularly bland job after his particularly bland whatever, and Henry tuned him out, instead choosing to rub Alex's inner thigh under the safety of the table cloth, at least until one jab broke through the reverie.

"...But it's such a shame nowadays that some men won't take up their proper place to enlist. Real men are becoming few and far between."

Henry nearly rolled his eyes, unfazed by the unoriginal insult.

What did surprise him was Alex. The dark haired man set down his drink, leaned forward, and said, "You're right; it is a shame." Henry raised his eyebrows at him, but Alex didn't stop. "It's a real shame that men still think their masculinity is in jeopardy if they don't have enough dominance over other people."

Blackwell spluttered, but, again, Alex continued. "No, really, I'm so glad a huge chunk of the government's budget is going toward ensuring men like you can get off feeling superior to not just everyone else in your country, but everyone else in the whole world."

Henry didn't think his eyebrows could go any higher, but one look at Blackwell had them trying. Nevertheless, he thought it might be a good idea to take Alex out before he goaded this man into a fist fight.

"I'm ready to go, Alex. How about you?"

Alex glanced at him sheepishly, not looking a bit apologetic, and, honestly, Henry didn't want him to be. Watching Alex argue with bigots only got more fun the longer they were together.

The second they were out in the hall, they both broke down in laughter. Henry could hardly breathe.

"God, did you see his face?" Alex gasped.

Henry nodded, still laughing. "I thought he might hit you!"

"No way he was gonna punch me, not with witnesses."

Henry shook his head, though he was smiling. "I love you so much."

Alex put his hands on Henry's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. "I love you, too."

2. Philip

Henry woke to an empty bed.

Groaning, he flopped his arm across Alex's side in the hopes that his boyfriend was somewhere over there but regretfully came up with nothing.

He decided on a different approach. "Alex?"

There was no answer.

He really didn't want to get up.

David clearly didn't either as he had burrowed into Alex's empty nest of blankets.

Henry got up.

Groggily, he meandered around the upstairs, and, determining Alex wasn't up there, he walked slowly down the stairs and stopped when he heard Alex's voice, tense and angry.

"No, we're not going to do that," he was saying. "No - stop - stop talking...You're not listening to me! We're not doing that because we're not your happy little queers to parade around when you need media points, Philip!"

Ah. Henry sat down on the stairs. This was sure to be an interesting conversation, one that wouldn't make him feel guilty at all.

"Yes, it is. Whether you like it or not, that's exactly what you're trying to do."

There was a moment of silence as Philip said his piece.

"I don't care what your Gran thinks."

Oh, Philip was sure to love that.

"How the hell is this our fault, Philip?  You want to control the tabloids? Get better libel laws."

There was the sound of something being slammed on the counter, and then Alex appeared at the bottom of the stair case. He did a double take. "How long have you been sitting there?"

Henry rested his elbow on his knee and his head in his hand. "Long enough. How long have you been up?"

"Only since Philip called, so about a half hour."

Henry winced. "I'm so sorry."

But Alex waved him off. "It's fine. You know how much I love yelling at people for you."

"Still." Henry hummed, then something occurred to him. "Did Philip call you directly?"

It would be incredibly odd if he had. For one, the two had always had a contentious relationship, barely speaking to each other when they were forced to and certainly never going out of their way to converse. For another, Philip knew full well that Henry would be far more willing to lie down and take whatever he had to say.

Alex shook his head. "Your phone started ringing, and I thought it was mine. I didn't want to wake you up."

Henry really should be used to it by now, how considering and amazing Alex was, but it still surprised him every time.

He got up and walked down the stairs, right into Alex's waiting arms. "Thank you for yelling at Philip for me, darling."

"Anytime, sweetheart." They stood there for a moment. "Let's have waffles for breakfast."

"Alright." They broke apart and began gathering the stuff for breakfast. "What did Philip want?"

Alex didn't look up. "Nothing important."

3. The Crown

Merely a week after his and Alex's engagement was released to the public, Henry came home from work to discover a ridiculously large envelope addressed from the Crown stuffed in their mailbox.

Had it been any other day, Henry would have waited until Alex got home to open it to, you know, preserve his mental health, but on this particular day, Alex wouldn't be home for several hours at least, and he was still riding the high from being newly engaged, so he opened it.

That was his first mistake.

His second was attempting to sift through the pages and pages of legal documents and wedding information after a full workday without caffeine in his system.

Immediately, he got a sick feeling in his stomach, the same feeling he used to get when Philip came to Kensington or when news came of Gran delivering her orders. The Crown was trying to control every last aspect of their wedding, from location to color scheme to wedding party.

He was just starting to feel the beginnings of a migraine when his eyes caught on one sentence in particular.

You are to live in Kensington once the honeymoon is over.

No.

They would have to give up everything they had worked for in New York. Alex would never be a politician or a lawyer. They would have to leave the brownstone permanently. No more dreams of a ceremony in Texas.

Just like that, Henry was done. He crossed his arms on the kitchen table and laid his head down. In the back of his head, he pulled out a thought he had been entertaining for weeks now, ever since he'd decided to propose.

There was the sound of the front door opening and shutting, and then David skittered into the foyer, presumably to bring Alex to Henry.

Sure enough, the next thing Henry heard was Alex entering the kitchen. He still didn't raise his head.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong?"

Henry felt tears prick at his eyes. How could he be so horrible, subjecting his wonderful fiance to people like this, people who were so determined to make them suffer?

A hand began carding through his hair, and he heard Alex start pulling papers toward him to examine.

The hand in his hair stopped, and Henry whined. Alex must've figured out what the papers were for because he didn't acknowledge his fiance's groans.

"This is bullshit, babe," Alex said, voice sounding incredibly restrained. Henry appreciated that Alex was trying to remain calm for him, but he'd honestly rather Alex be screaming. It's what he deserved. "They can't force us to do anything."

Henry laughed humorlessly. "As long as it's a royal wedding, they own it."

Alex shook his head. "Fuck 'em-"

"That's not how it works," Henry explained. "They'll make you convert to Anglicanism." His voice dropped. "They'll make us move."

His third mistake was believing the Crown could control him, or, better yet, Alex.

"Fuck that, babe. We can do whatever we want. We can fly to Vegas and elope under the ministrations of fucking Elvis-"

Alex continued like that for a while, and as Henry watched the man he loved most in the world nearly knock over their salt shaker as he gesticulated wildly, Henry knew what he wanted to do.

"I want to abdicate," he said.

Alex stopped suddenly, mouth open, hands still in the air. "You what?"

Henry sat up finally and looked Alex in the eyes. "I want to abdicate."

Looking a bit lost, Alex cleared his throat. "Okay, not that I don't fully support this, but," he paused. "If you're just doing this because of the wedding, there are other options. I wasn't kidding about Vegas-"

Henry shook his head, a fond look on his face. "No, I've been thinking about this for a while. I don't want the Crown holding themselves over us for the rest of our lives. First this, then what? When we have kids, they'll try and force us into surrogacy to preserve the line of succession. They'll fight you on all of your political opinions. We'll never get a break. At least this way, there'll be some degree of separation." He stopped himself, afraid he'd work himself up into crying again.

Alex took Henry's hands then and pulled him closer so he could whisper in his ear. "You're sure?"

Henry nodded, and Alex twisted so he was sitting in his lap. "Well, alright then."

4. Twitter

The article was a joke. It was the kind of thing one was only supposed to see at the checkout of a grocery store, but somehow, the internet got a hold of it, and now it was plastered on every social media site everywhere.

But seriously, who would believe that Henry has murdered someone? All of Twitter, apparently, because he had been getting notifications about it all day, even though he was the least likely of all the royal siblings (and the Super Six, really), to murder someone. The article didn't even name the person he had supposedly killed, simply saying it was a boy from Eton.

Henry tried to tell Alex it was just another rumor that would die out in a week, especially with as ridiculous as it was, but Alex insisted on saying something. At least Henry had convinced him not to address it directly, knowing acknowledging it would only give it power.

In the end, Henry turned off Twitter for a week and put Shaan in charge of his phone.

When he finally looked at Twitter again, the first thing he saw was a post from Alex.

[image of Henry reading on the couch with David curled on his stomach]

Happy Tuesday to the most amazing person I've ever met. Hen, I'll stand by you in everything you do because you've never done anything wrong in your life. Love you, sweetheart!

Little shit.

5. Henry himself

As soon as Henry woke up, he knew it was going to be a bad day. The distance from the bed to the hallway seemed like infinity, and he barely found the strength to roll over. Alex was nowhere to be found, and Henry hoped he would be gone at least until Henry mustered the energy to at least leave the bed. He hated people seeing him like this, even if having Alex here would probably make.him feel so much better.

He laid there for another hour? Two hours? Henry didn't know, but at some point, Alex quietly opened the bedroom door and came to sit next to Henry.

"Hey, sweetheart. How you feeling?" He set something on the bedside table and turned back to Henry, carding his fingers through his hair. "And don't lie."

Henry blinked his eyes open, awed that Alex knew something was wrong before Henry had even woken up. "Not great."

Alex hummed. "I brought you tea and Jaffa Cakes for whenever you're ready." He stood from the bed, and Henry watched him walk around to the other side. He closed his eyes and felt the bed dip as Alex laid down, curling around Henry in a parenthesis.

"How did you know?" Henry whispered, finding himself caring more about the answer than he really has any right to.

Alex made a confused noise. "Babe, it's 1:30." Henry didn't have it in him to be surprised, but he was sure when he was feeling better, it would hit him hard. "I figured you were either feeling bad or coming down with something."

An arm came down around Henry's middle. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't easy for you."

Alex shook his head against Henry's back. "It's the easiest thing in the world, sweetheart."

+1. The Queen

"I simply cannot allow this. You will release a statement in the morning rescinding the announcement.

Alex didn't have to look at the queen to know she had that stupid little smug look on her face, the one that meant she was being a bitch, a bitch to her grandchildren no less.

Alex also didn't have to look at Henry to know that he had one of his various press faces on, the one that signaled practiced neutrality. It was better than the press smile, but not by much.

"No, they won't be doing that," Catherine said. "For one, you can't control whether or not they're engaged." That's great, Alex thought, except she actually could. "Ignoring that, they can't rescind now without you coming off horribly in the press."

Again, that would be great if she didn't believe the entirety of the UK's population were huge homophobes, something Alex would say if he could get a word in without being interrupted by a certain someone.

Mary started again. "The country is simply not ready-"

Suddenly, Henry clutched Alex's thigh hard enough to elicit a gasp, and everyone's eyes turned to them. "That's enough."

And, holy shit, Alex's jaw fucking dropped because Henry just interrupted the queen of England. Well. Alex had always wondered what being beheaded felt like.

Mary opened her mouth to say something, but Henry held up a hand. Yep, they were 100% dead. "No, I've sat here and listened for long enough. You know what I came here to tell you today?" He took a deep breath, and, alright, this wasn't how they'd discussed breaking the news, but, apparently, this was happening. "I'm abdicating."

The room went silent as everyone processed the news. Bea, of course, already knew, and simply sipped her coke, but Philip's face was completely white. Catherine's eyes were wide, betraying a glint of pride. Queen Mary, though-

"Over him?" she said, poise slipping minutely. "You would give up your birthright and embarrass your family for this American man?"

She said it with such disdain that Alex tried not to be offended, and he had to try even harder to keep his mouth shut.

Henry, it seemed, was not taking the same precautions. Alex squeezed his hand in support. "Yes, Gran, I would." He stood, taking Alex with him. "I love him, and I don't want to have to hide my whole life. I don't need your prejudice. I'm done."

With that, he dragged Alex from the room, leaving behind the open mouthed stares. As soon as they were out in the hall, Alex had Henry up against the wall, mouths pressed together. It wasn't nearly the sexiest place or situation they'd ever been in, but goddamn if Alex wasn't hard as a rock.

"I love you so much," he murmured into his fiance's mouth. "You're so damn brave."

Henry pulled back abruptly to burrow his head in Alex's neck, and Alex brought up a hand to rub his back. "You did amazing in there."

For a second, Alex thought Henry was about to start crying, until he whispered, "It's all because of you."

That really made Alex's heart swell. It was too bad it was wrong. "No, sweetheart. That's all you."

[bicheetopuff]

Prompts for puff:

I have a few prompts you might like to write about! Some follow cannon, others are AUs (I don’t know if you have a pref o_O) Feel free to edit these to your own ideas

Pirate AU: Class 1a are pirates, taking on the seven seas. But what happens when the League of Voyagers (a vicious rival pirate group) attack them, leaving them stranded on a mysterious island?

Shojou manga! Izuku finds Katsuki’s collection of shojou manga and reads it. Izuku discovers that Katsuki had been using phrases/tropes in the manga when talking to him. With this info, Izuku resorts to flirting the hell out of Katsuki. (Aka, Izuku finds out that Katsuki is in love with him and proceeds to romance him to the grave)

Villain Deku AU (hear me out), but it’s told from the perspective of Izuku from cannon who fell into the villain AU and helps Nedzu, Tsugauchi & Class 1A find and take down !villain Deku, all while Katsuki (from cannon) is finding ways to get him back. (Bonus points if !Villain Au Baku makes Izuku realise he is in love with him)

Hatsume’s rings of doom: in which hatsume makes thought-sharing rings using quirk technology & makes Izuku + Katsuki test them out. The rings do not come off. Help them.

RealityTV AU: Where the promising young heroes of Class 1A get a segment on the hit show HEROES 4 HIRE: a reality show in which heroes are called to do domestic jobs like babysitting and beach cleaning. Izuku and Katsuki have been paired and will spend the entirety of the show bound together by the hands (at least when the cameras are running).

Streamer AU: (def not original but whatever) Katsuki is a famous streamer, known for shaking up the gaming world with his aggressive play style and notorious attitude, but how will the sweet, funny and precious cinnamon roll that is Deku react when he gets placed into a raging tournament with katsuki? (Extra: Izuku is a badass and creates one of the most influential dynamics with Katsuki, who is ecstatic that someone can match his freak)

My personal fav TIME TRAVEL AU: This prompt can go many ways (AND I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS OMGSVFSNBDJSVS) but I’ll just pick one: Somehow, Izuku (who just got done fighting Muscular for the first time) gets transported to his middle school class, chaos ensues. (Katsuki is beyond concerned for Deku, but needs to get his head out of his ass before trying to reach out) How will Izuku handle being ripped from his time?

Hope these help. And it sucks that you are surrounded by Trump supporters, honestly fuck them. I want to cremate him and put him in a firework that explodes and says “EQUAL RIGHTS”, or smth like that.

(p.s. you are one of my favourite authors EVER and I go insane when I read your stuff. Literally frothing at the mouth rn)

Hi, thank you for the prompts! It makes me really happy that you like my fics <3

I probably won’t use all of these (at least not immediately because I’m kind of a slow writer. But I also do have a preference, I like to write canon compliant stuff so I don’t think I’d have the skill set to write the pirate, villain deku, and streamer AUs, though I do think they’re cool ideas to keep in mind for later!), but the Shoujo Manga, Ring of Doom, and Reality TV AUs sound hilarious, I’m definitely using those.

I really like time travel AUs, but I will say I do already have one planned. It’s like a continuation of another fic but I plan on making it long so I’m not working on it rn. I’m not sure how long exactly, but at least over 50k words so it’s definitely something for the future!

And yeah I think I can speak for every queer person of color who lives in the south, being here right now is kind of spooky if you don’t live in a big city. Luckily, I do live in the city, but my city is big enough to still have its fair share of bigots. I’m worried, but at the same time I have a lot of faith in our community, and I’m sure we’ll all make it out okay. I will say though, I’ve had to unfollow and block so many friends from high school over the past few days… it’s unfortunate but I’d rather that than have someone in my life who doesn’t believe I deserve to exist. But other than that, writing and creating stuff is a good distraction for now :)