#they just want to be the most radical person in the room

[betterbemeta]

Binary gender expression is also how many people approximate their relationship with Hierarchy and Authority.

Hey. Put down the rock. I'm not talking about Gender Abolitionists pretending that 'men' is a cohesive non-intersectional Ruling Sex Caste.

I am talking about how even before we get into social failure or success, people are using gender to sus out where they are in the room. If they feel secure or not where they are on the hierarchy. Beyond 'who at a glance can be expected to be steamrolled in conversation, do dishes, based on binary gender', there are distinctions within gender itself. Two women of the same race express femininity, but one appears more working class-- gender becomes the place where that distinction is expressed.

(I have read that there's a similar security issue when it comes to 'dressing too white/dressing too black' among black people in the USA but you will have to go find a primary source-- I just want to note that gender isn't the ONLY space where this happens)

Some of the most overt hierarchies to observe happen at work. Examples!

Two men of the same race work at the same company, look similar, and both even wear business suits at the office. But one of them is an employee, and the other one is the boss. Work in an office of this type and you will know right away that Professional Attire does not equalize a sense of status regardless of if the boss's attitude is 'old fashioned' or not. And the way that status will be performed is going to be via gender performance gender even if both men are already 'performing' in their Workwear.

Super-lax dress expectations at a trendy startup hide the immense gaps between the CEO, the computer engineers, and the barely-paid overhead staff. Hiding this directly benefits authority. And what even counts as 'lax' is strongly gendered. Which interns will be okay wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Probably the male ones, but among the girls there are definitely distinctions in who is 'unprofessional' and who is 'casual', based on other forms of hierarchy.

Gender-neutrality, androgyny, crossdressing, certain kinds of alt fashion, nonbinary presentation totally fuck up these invisible status calculations. Status itself is not corporeal; it needs mediums like race, gender, class markers, etc. to be seen. The social punishments @thecottageinthedark describes have a LOT to do with people FREAKING OUT when they can't.

This is where accusations that queer people are smug, arrogant, self-superior come from by the way btw. These negative stereotypes are not just tar and feathers; it's the fear one will be subordinated if they can't understand everything about you At a Glance.

When I describe people feeling insecure ths way, I don't just mean the maximum brain worms cases, 'I WILL transvestigate everyone in this starbucks,' I also mean you and me, your mom, other people, all of us.

It is extremely hard to actively believe in radical, complete equality every hour of every day when we meet every person. Because that equality means that others are free to think and treat you like whatever. Gender isn't inherently the medium for The Social Contract. But the terror of failing at gender many people feel is pretty much the same as terror at said contract being revoked and to be subjected to violent authority.

Was explaining some gender things to a straight cis friend today vis a vis gender presentation VS gender identity when it suddenly dawned on me with much the same horror as getting to work and realizing you left the stove on, that unless you've been immersed in a queer culture for some time you'd have no way of knowing that appearing androgynous/indeterminate/wildly gender-nonconforming is HOT

[carlos-in-glasses]

There's something I need to get off my smutty chest about Tarlos having kids and the true reason I wasn't into the idea at first (and have since come around).

(Before and during season 4) I was uncertain about Tarlos having kids because – in all honesty – they are the Hot Sex couple. How are they supposed to have Hot Sex whenever and wherever, while there are kids in the house? Surely they aren’t. They can’t. And, selfishly, how would that impact how I want to write them in my canon-compliant/very canon-adjacent fics?

However. As time passed, the idea of them becoming dads overwhelmed me with not just how adorable it is (and it IS! That little 'room' they've made for Jonah that looks like it has a race car bed?? Come onnn!!!! My heart!!!) but how radical, when for so long same-sex couples not having kids was the default because they were not allowed to do it. But now they can, and I am so moved and excited for them to permanently adopt a child and represent that particular progress. I think it's important to remember that what we are seeing on screen with Tarlos is radical already, and I know it might not seem like it because the sexy times moment in 5x05 was so brief, but it really is. Same-sex marriage was legalised five minutes ago. Seeing same-sex couples in media raising a family is still massive and frankly in this current age, essential. With Tarlos we’ve been so lucky to have both: a storyline about how one part of a couple isn’t ready for kids, which I feel like we never see and was very interesting, and we have a storyline where they both become ready (unfortunately rushed and we’re only going to see three seconds of it, but still. Still!). I’m sure if the show were continuing, they wouldn’t have done a kids storyline for them yet anyway, or they would have told one with room to breathe. So, there is also an allowance to make for completing their arc as a couple under unfortunate circumstances. It might be a speed-run, but it was always how their story would end, and we are lucky we get a proper ending at all. We get to see them make choices, make mistakes, and change, which allows them to be even richer as characters imo.

All this is to say – if you, like me, are dubious about them having kids because of the sex thing and are trying to reason it out – it's okay to say it. Or I've decided it's okay to admit it anyway lol. Personally, I have come to the conclusion that they are still going to be the Hot Sex couple. Because they are still them. They are Tarlos. And they are OURS. They are going to have Hot Hot Hot Sex because they are going to really want it. And isn’t that delicious? Whenever the kids aren’t around, they are going to be all over each other. They are going to bonk in every corner of their suburban home. And in the yard. The back porch swing. The roof. They are going to need to do house repairs often, because of this. Their neighbours will hate them. And as it should be. They are per-canon obsessed with having sex with each other. Also! Having said all this: They can be written by fic writers as childless. That's completely fine. Or, any and all fics can be set pre. 5x08 if that's what people want to do. I might want to do that for the most part if it's easier to tell a specific story. I don't know yet! In any case:

Tarlos is going to be happy. Afterglow is their resting state.

In the words of Ghost Gwyn, it is all going to be okay.

[hag-lad]

Holy fuck, all of your takes about homosexuality are DOGSHIT today, kiddos. Has “queer” in-fighting fully circled back around to become pure homophobia? It’s more likely than you think!

[leah-lover]

Drive to survive. Leah Williamson x F1!reader

Who is going to replace Lewis Hamilton? This question has taken the f1 media by storm for a whole season. Some believed it would be Andrea Kimi Antonelli, while others hoped for Max Verstappen, or Carlos sainz. However none of them expected you. A woman would join F1 in one  of the most decorated cars in recent years. A woman would take the seat of the legendary Lewis Hamilton. 

The support was significant but the pushback was overwhelming. Many people applauded you for entering a male dominated field. They went on saying how much of a role model you were to young women, how you would change the f1 world forever, bring in new fans , and make f1 a more equal place in real life not just on paper. The other drivers welcomed you with open arms in their interaction with you or in  the way they talked about you most importantly lewis. 

As a result of your new found fame you were asked to join events and panels talking about women's sport or women in sports. Throughout your pre-season you were fully booked from training to preseason testing to the media event. 

The only time you ever thought about something other than how radical what you are doing is or what you were going to do next was when you saw a particularly stunning person. 

A tall blonde woman with a great mind you took a glimpse through when she answered the questions she was asked in the BBC panel you were on. She was educated, beautiful, well mannered, beautiful, very good with her words, and very very beautiful. 

You answered your questions to the best of your ability, took some pictures and headed towards the green room. When you came in you looked at the table and saw snacks and one lone mini chocolate bar. As you extended your hand to grab, you were met by another one going for it too. You extracted your hand quickly and looked at the eventual winner of the mini chocolate bar. It was her, the blond beauty that goes by Leah Williamson. 

“ Uhmm sorry. Here, take it.” Said the smiling young woman. 

“ No it's fine, you go ahead, I shouldn't anyway. It's pre-season.” You responded.

“ We can split it then. I am sure half of a mini bar isn't going to hurt.” She added. 

You two then split the bar. “ I am Leah Williamson.” She said as she extended her hand. You told her your name and shook her hand. 

“ You were very good there. Very good answers.” You complimented Leah. 

“ You too.” She said shyly. 

“ Do you want to get out of here?” You ask. 

“ Does that line work on everyone you meet?” 

You laugh nervously. “ No. I don't use it much. Uhmm, I am hungry and I want a buddy to go get food with.” 

“ I am sorry, I have to go to another press conference. But maybe someday soon.” 

You hand her your phone so that she can save her number in. When you look at the name she saved her number as “ arsenal's number 6.” Which gave you a glimpse of her sense of humor. 

Your season started a short while after you two started to date. You clicked instantly and one might say it was love at first sight since it only took 6 dates over 2 weeks for you to reveal that you two loved each other. 

You both  understood that your careers were busy, her with arsenal's and the lionesses and you with traveling around the world and driving your fast car. 

The start of your season was expectedly slow. You were decent throughout the qualifiers.  You started at p6 in Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Australia, all the way through china. You were a little overwhelmed by all the media attention and scrutiny. But by round 8 you scored your first p4 which you interchanged by p5. 

You were very excited for your home race on Silverstone. You were excited by the presence of your friends and family, and most importantly your girlfriend. While other lionesses were invited in my McLaren you insisted on Leah being in the Mercedes garage with you. 

Knowing your girlfriend was going to watch you for the first time, knowing she was there for you and only you, gave you more motivation than you ever hoped for. You got in your car for qualifying ready to impress. As soon as you left the garage, you pushed the car to the limit which gave you your first ever pole position in F1. You were ecstatic and the team was happy for you too. 

Race day was crazy, you couldn't see your girlfriend because you had to prepare yourself for what probably was going to be a rainy race. 

The track was dry and empty in front of you. You were in pole, you just had to keep your position. As soon as the light turned green you pushed as fast as you could. Your team informed you of a few crashes behind you and an angry Max Verstappen in a red bull. The red bull team expressed their concerns about foul play in my result in qualifiers which led max to have an alleged grudge. You didn't think much of it, you just focused on staying in p1. 

“ Careful Max is being reckless trying to overtake you “ said one of your guys on the radio. You couldn't let fear creep in after all your girlfriend was watching. She to whom you promised the win. 

You went on denying him every opportunity to overtake and in time the race was just about you and Max going head to head with all the others being a full lap behind. You kept thinking of Leah and the sex you two would have after the win and how proud she would be of you. That was what gave you the edge over him .

You two changed tires at the same time. While Mercedes was faster, Red Bull was fast too. You speeded out of the box, felt a shock wave throughout the entire car. You didn't register what happened quickly. Your brain went silent then you said some words to yourself.

“ Silverstone, Leah, pole, win, box, max.” You thought. The car was getting hot, and you were getting light headed. You heard a voice through your ear but you couldn't register what they said. 

A few seconds passed before you saw an ambulance, you heard sirens and saw white foamy gas. The kind of gas they used for fires. 

“ Fires, I crashed, the car is on fire.” You thought again and quickly tried to get out of the car. 

You wanted to get up but couldn't. You were dizzy. You were going to die. 

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Angel of Music (Azriel x Reader)

AN: guys this is always one of my emotional support movies/plays I’ve seen it a million times so it only seemed fair that I give it the ACOTAR collab it deserves. 

Summary: It was the inner circles first time at the theater and from the way the Shadowsinger was blushing they all had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. (the reader plays Christine Daae in Velaris’ adaptation of The Phantom Of The Opera and Azriel falls in love with her, but he’s afraid that she won’t like him because of his scars because she choose Raoul in the play) Set between ACOWAR and AOFAS

Warnings: Angst because of Azriel’s scars, shy az, but so much fluff, (just a little Az brain rot, didn't take this too seriously)

Word Count: 3,070

It wasn’t the shadowsinger's usual scene. Bustling people dressed to the nines, plush red chairs, gold sconces, orchestras. But Cassian had been tirelessly trying to make Nesta smile, and Ferye wanted to try and get her sisters together, so here he sat in the box that Rhysand had purchased for the night. 

Nesta loved the music and dancing, Elain loved the romance, and Feyre loved the costumes and color palettes of scenes. Cassian wanted to see Nesta smile, and Rhysand would do just about anything Feyre asked of him. 

In all his 500 years of life, Azriel had never thought to go to the theater. When he was a child he heard of his parents going but of course, he never got to go. As he grew the idea of going to see a show simply never crossed his mind.

When the lights went down and the orchestra came to life he spent most of his time watching Cassian, who was watching a very intrigued Nesta. He stayed that way until a clap and a spark echoed throughout the room. At first, he thought there was danger, but as soon as he turned his attention towards the stage he saw the large chandelier raise itself to life bringing the dilapidated stage with it. Golds, reds, and vibrant colors filled the room. 

Still, Azriel had trouble following the plot. But as he watched Nesta and her sisters become entranced by the music and dancing. The loud organ had stirred something in him, but he didn’t truly feel moved until her. 

Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye…

Azriel was sitting in a box at the edge of the theater, but even from this distance, he could tell that she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen.  He scooted to the edge of his seat a tad just to be that much closer to her. Her voice was that of a siren, no not a siren, an angel. His shadows danced around his ears and his wings at the sound of her ballad. Even the rest of the inner circle seemed to be entranced by her spell. 

As the play went on he found himself becoming irrationally jealous of Raoul. The pretty Viscount had not given her a second look at the beginning of the play. It wasn’t until the organ sounded again that the sound of her voice graced Azriel’s ears. The woman walked through a mirror towards a masked man. 

Who was this masked man? Where was he taking her? It wasn’t until Mor rested her hand to where he was gripping his chair with white knuckles that he remembered it was just a play. He sat back in his seat more, trying to tell his shadows to calm down. But as her voice climbed and climbed that beautiful crescendo they twisted and turned around him. 

Azriel spent the rest of the play being utterly entranced by the beautiful singer’s relationship with the Phantom. The masked man was dark and radical, staying in the shadows where no one could see him. He observed her from afar. Much like the shadowsinger did himself in every aspect of his life. 

It was clear to him that the Phantom was in love with Christine. So when Raoul and Christine kissed he nearly felt his heart shatter. The way the Phantom mourned, and cried, it felt all too personal to Azriel. 

I  gave you my music, made your way. And now how you’ve repaid me, denied me and betrayed me…

  From there on out Azriel found himself rooting for the Phantom, the man he saw so much of himself in. He nearly shed a tear when he found out why the man wore a mask. A scared child in a cage made to perform. 

He looked down at his mangled hands sitting on the arms of his chair. He had known a similar childhood and had suddenly wished he had something like a mask to cover such torn flesh. Maybe then the beautiful woman on stage might look at him with that same lovesick gaze, she wore now for Raoul, but he knew that could never be.

For a moment he felt joy, seeing her kiss the Phantom with such passion, such love. Only for that joy to be extinguished like a candle when she walks out with the Viscount. Of course, she would choose him, life does imitate art after all. It wasn’t until the curtain went down and the crowd erupted in thunderous applause that Azriel broke from his trance, standing to applause with them. 

“Well that was wonderful,” Feyre beamed, linking her arm with Rhysand’s. 

“I’ll say, that girl sang like an angel,” Mor gushed, fanning herself with her program as we all made our way out of the box. “Even Azriel seemed to enjoy it,” the female smirked, bumping Azriel with her shoulder. She had seen the lovesick gaze in his eyes. 

“It was so romantic the way Raoul came to rescue her,” Elain swooned, grabbing her sister's other arm. 

“Oh please, the Phantom was the obvious choice!” Nesta huffed at her sister's comment. 

“Nesta, would you like to meet the cast? Maybe talk to some of the dancers?” Feyre asked, changing the subject quickly before conflict arose. 

Nesta thought for a moment and spoke again, “Yes I would.” all she said. 

Of course, it was an easy task for Rhys to sweet-talk his way backstage, the inner circle sticking out like a sore thumb as they weaved past props, costumes, and the ensemble. Azriel’s eyes stayed ever vigilant, unable to let go of years of training as they walked down a dark hall. A cast member opened a door at the end of the hall to reveal mirrors with glimmering faelights around them. Vanities with every manor of makeup and costume jewelry. Two men he recognized as the actors who played the Viscount and the Phantom. 

The Phantom had washed off the makeup that made his face look scarred. Once again Azriel wished he too had that ability. Rhys and Feyre shook both their hands introducing them to the whole inner circle, but Azriel paid no mind. His hazel eyes were searching for a hint of her.

“Oh y/n there’s someone who wants to meet you!” called out one of the actors. 

“Oh, really who?” called a voice so melodic Azriel just knew that she had to be an angel. 

His shadows wisped around him frantically, calling out her name in his ear, like they were excited to finally know it. Rhys and Feyre’s eyes looked to their friend and smiled at one another. 

She walked around from a changing screen, tying the strings of the robe she was wearing that looked similar to the one she had worn on stage. She nearly stopped in her tracks as she saw her High Lord and Lady staring at her. 

“My Lord, My Lady,” she bows. “It is an honor.”

“No, no, please don’t bow,” Feyre rushes over, bringing the singer upright. “If anything we should be bowing to you. You sang like a goddess out there, you are truly talented.”

“Why thank you, my Lady, I’m truly happy you enjoyed the show,” she smiled and Azriel’s heart all but glowed. 

“Please call me Feyre,” the High Lady smiles, extending her hand. 

“Y/n,” the singer replied, taking her hand and shaking it. 

Azriel kept to the sidelines as the inner circle conversed with the cast and crew. Feyre and Rhys praised the play director and claimed they would be purchasing their box for the rest of the season. Nesta picked the brains of the dancers and their instructor, Cassian listening dutifully behind her. Elain chatted up the Phantom and Raoul, both actors seemingly falling for her, once again showing how life imitates art. 

Mor talked to y/n, about what? Azriel didn’t know. But the second Mor caught Az gazing at y/n she held out a hand to him. 

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Azriel, spymaster for the night court,” Mor said, beckoning Azriel over. 

Azriel quickly put his hands behind his back, not wanting to scare her with his scars. He could’ve sworn he saw her cheeks tint a shade pinker as he approached, looming over her in size. 

“How do you do?” y/n asks.

It takes a second for Azriel to realize that her angelic voice is speaking to him.

“Oh um, very well thanks.” he stutters, already feeling like a fool. Gods she was even more beautiful up close, he found himself suddenly longing for the box that offered him sanctuary, or a mask like the Phantom had. 

“Did you um, enjoy the show?” she probed and Azriel realized that Mor had conveniently dismissed herself. 

“I did,” he said quickly. “You have a beautiful voice, I could’ve listened all night.” 

Once again he swore he saw y/n blush as she looked down at her feet, “Thank you, though I think I fell flat a little in the first song. Opening night and all,” she laughed nervously and oh Cauldron, the sound of her laughter was enough to make Az take one step towards her. 

“No it was perfect, all of it.” he spat out, not standing to hear her say one more bad thing about herself. 

“Well thank you Azriel,” she said and by the fucking Cauldron she smiled at him. His name fell off her perfect lips and she smiled at him. He must’ve been dead and somehow gotten to heaven, there was no other explanation. 

The rest of the inner circle watched the pair intently. Feyre sank further into Rhysand’s side as they both realized they were watching Azriel fall in love in real-time. The yin and yang of the pair was near poetic and Feyre told herself she would pain this exact moment tomorrow morning. 

“Y/n why don’t you come to dinner with us? We would love to hear more about you,” Rhysand smiled.

His words broke the trance y/n was in, “Oh my Lord I truly wish I could, but I have an early day tomorrow and my apartment is clear across town.” She apologized. 

“No worries, it sounds like we will all be back for tomorrow night's show as well. Though I would hate for you to walk home alone,” Rhys smirked trying to get Azriel to bite at the bait.

“Not to worry I make the trek all the time,” she smiled, picking up the many vases of flowers people had left for her on her vanity. 

“Azriel could walk you home, couldn’t you Az?” Mor chimed in and Azriel shot her a look. 

“Uh, yeah I could if you’d like,” Azriel mentioned stuttering over his words as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Oh no I wouldn’t want to take you from dinner with your family,” she assured him, picking up two large vases of flowers. 

“Not at all, I would be honored to walk you home,” the shadowsinger said a little too quickly. Feyre tried to stifle her laugh in Rhys’ side, she had never seen her spymaster so flustered. 

“Okay then,” the girl smiled and soon enough they were off down the cobblestone street, their way lit by dim faelight. 

y/n’s pov:

“Your shadows are incredible,” I smile watching as the dark wisps carry the various vases of flowers down the road. 

I had been more than happy to have the High Lord’s shadowsinger walk me home. In all honesty, I was captivated by the male the moment I set eyes on him. Sure he was hard, dressed in black, and over a foot taller than me. 

A sane woman might’ve kept her distance from the male, he was dangerous after all. But I knew the moment he spoke that he wasn’t a threat. There was a quiet and gentle calm underneath all that darkness.

“Thank you,” he says and I swear I see him blush. “They seem to really like you.” 

“They do? How can you tell?” I laugh as one of the little fellas brush against my cheek like a cat brushing against an ankle. 

“They went wild when you were singing tonight,” he chuckles, seemingly remembering how they danced. 

“Really?” I ask balking a bit. 

“I’m serious, give it a try,” he smiles, motioning for me to sing again. 

I shrug and clear my throat before singing a line from the play, “Angel of Music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange angel,” I sang softly and sure enough the little shadows danced and swirled around me. Threading themselves through my hair and around my arms where they held my vases of flowers. 

“That’s amazing,” I breathe finally watching the small wisps die down, hiding behind their master like they were shy. 

“You’re amazing,” their master spits out and then blushes. ‘

I can’t help but feel myself blush too, shying away from the hulking Illyrian. He didn’t look so tough as his shadows carried dozens of flowers behind him. He had walked down the street with his hands behind his back the whole time, not needing to lift a finger. 

The little purple door I’m so used to seeing comes into view. Outside the cottage are dozens and dozens of roses and the light inside is out. 

“I leave these here,” I say gesturing to the flowers I’m holding as I set them on the front porch. 

“Why not take them home? Were they not gifted to you?” Azriel cocks an eyebrow as his shadows place the flowers neatly next to the ones I set down. 

I laugh starting back down the path towards my place, “I get so many, I can’t possibly keep them all. Marla is an elderly woman who lost her husband years ago. It brings her joy to have them, so I leave them for her. Besides it’s not like they’re from anyone special,” I shrug, subtly dropping the hint to Azriel that I’m not otherwise engaged. 

Azriel pauses beside me and approaches a rose bush blooming near one of the cottages. Drawing his dagger, he carefully slices off a vibrant red rose. Before offering it to me, he painstakingly removes every thorn with the same blade, as if to protect my hands from even the slightest prick.

“You deserve to have at least one flower,” he says offering me the rose. 

I blush and go to reach for it when I catch sight of his hand. The mangled and marred flesh. I can’t help but feel my breath hitch as I wonder who could’ve done such a thing to such a gentle soul. The scarred hand pulls back a bit as if realizing my staring. 

“I guess I’m more Phantom than dashing Viscount,” he utters sadly, referring to my play and my role in it. My heart shatters as I see his broken expression. 

“You know,” I smile, taking the rose from his scarred hands. “I always thought that Christine should end up with The Phantom, he was clearly the better choice.” 

His head whips up as if I’ve uttered an inconceivable phrase. “Even though he had ugly scars?” Azriel inquires, his face tight like he might not want to hear whatever answer I provide.

“Who said he was ugly?” I laugh, did this beautiful specimen of a male truly believe he was ugly because his hands bore scars? 

“So you would choose the Phantom?” he cocks an eyebrow as if trying to read if I was telling the truth.

“In a heartbeat,” I affirm confidently and honestly.

He takes a step towards me, his form getting even bigger, “and what about scarred hands? Is that a deal breaker?” he probes, holding out his hands so I can see that they both harbor similar markings.  

I shake my head taking another step towards him, appreciating the beauty that is him. From the white scars that ran up his hands, to the shadows that danced around him like they they were whispering to him.

“So if I asked you to dinner after your show tomorrow?” he queries taking a step towards me as well.

“I would ask you where we are going?” I reply feeling my cheeks heat up. Was he asking me out? I tried to push the butterflies down in my stomach.

“Rita’s ?” he shrugs, stepping forward. 

“Sounds like a plan,” I smile moving towards him more, like I was compelled to.

“I’ll swing backstage after the curtain closes,” he smiles, seemingly becoming more confident in himself as we step closer together just a few feet apart.

“I’ll put your name on the list,” I say, feeling his presence pull me in. 

“And if I were to send you flowers? What kind would you like?” he interrogates further. 

I think for a moment, no one had ever asked me what flowers I might like to receive. My eyes look around as if searching for inspiration until they land on a blue siphon adorning his chest that’s right in front of me. 

“Something blue,” I blush knowing that when I see the cobalt flowers on my vanity I will know they are from him. 

“Consider it done,” he smiles and I suddenly realize that we’re mere inches apart now. 

I turn to my right where the blue door to my house beckons to be opened. Pulling out my keys I unlock it and use my shoulder to shove it open as it always gets stuck. 

“Well,” I say shyly. “Thank you for walking me home,” 

“Anytime,” he smiles looking down at his feet. 

The sight of the bashful warrior on my front doorstep has me melting. His face is so beautiful and perfectly carved I can't help but lean up on my toes and kiss his cheek. I almost regret it when it’s over but the violent red of his cheeks makes me smile again.

“Well goodnight,” I say, trying not to let my words shake in the process. 

“Goodnight,” he smiles, brushing a hand against his freshly kissed cheek.

I close the door and place the single, thornless, rose he cut for me in a vase. It isn’t until I turn on a light that I hear him take off into the night and I swear I hear him let out a grand whoop from way up in those clouds.

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202 , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark , @cheneyq

[ramblings-of-a-detrans-woman]

Why I will never support the radical feminist movement, as a detransitioning woman.

note: this is not meant to be any sort of hit piece or slander, I respect every feminist, even ones I disagree with. This is just my reasoning for why I do not like the radfem movement.

For a bit of context, I’ve indentified as trans since I was 12. At 18, I’ve decided to live my life as a lesbian woman, and i’ve never been happier with that choice.

Now, being a young trans man, I interacted a lot with pro trans content online (of course I did), and so of course I’ve heard about radical feminism. A passionate branch of feminism that takes a unique approach to women’s rights- deconstructing gender entirely. It sounds wonderful in theory, because of course gender is oppressive, most notably of women. I would know, being one. Even when I was trans I had to worry about being out at night. I even got chased once, and a man attempted to lure me to his truck another time. It’s brutal. But radical feminists devote their activism to ending this in a straightforward, logical way.

So why do I, a woman who has experienced both misogyny and transphobia, not support that? I feel that this is a good question for both trans allies and radfems alike to to ask. Knowledge is power.

Well, I’ll be direct. Radfems are some of the most depraved people i’ve ever met. I know, that sounds like a lot, but there’s no other words I can use that don’t perfectly encapsulate my experience with radfems. It’s depravity.

For weeks, I was harassed by transphobic radfems. Radfems, who are insistent on their love and support for TIFs aka trans men. It’s strange then that they would be so cruel towards one, wouldn’t you say?

Detransition is hard enough. It’s difficult to tell family that you were wrong. It’s difficult to reconnect with my gender. Hell, i prefer the term detrans over cis just because i have such a disconnect from my gender. So why do I have to deal with transphobic radfems sending me gore and death threats?

Thankfully all of the accounts doing this seem to be deleted or repurposed. But it’s only a matter of time until a new account is made just to send me an ask telling me to kill myself or a message about how much of a loser i am.

It’s this reason alone why i’ll never be a radfem. They’re just sick people. They don’t want liberation for women, they just hate trans people. It’s not even thinly veiled, their accounts are fully based around how horrible trans women are.

The truth being, trans women aren’t bad people at all. It’s easy to think they are because the news and media cherry picks some of the worst ones, but every community and minority group has bad people in it. some of the sickest people you could imagine, really. yes, they can be trans. but does being trans make you a sick person? does it turn you into a predator? no, it doesn’t. it just means you’re trans. trans or not, it’s up to men to be mature and take accountability for their own actions that they consciously make. a cis man is as capable to walk into a women’s room as a trans woman is.

if radical feminists cared more about women and detrans women, i could consider getting along with them. but sadly, all these passionate and dedicated feminists care about is hating trans people with a fiery passion. and i’ve been a casualty. it’s very difficult for me to sympathize with radfems when they’ve upset me to the point that they have

let me make it clear that gore and death threats don’t upset me, i’m not easily offended. So it’s not the threats that make me angry. It’s just the principle. The fact that radfems are spending their time scrolling reddit for gore pictures to send to fellow women instead of supporting us makes me SICK. it’s heartbreaking to picture a woman, raped and beaten by her boyfriend, and a radfem standing in front of her, readily available to help, but choosing to yell at a passing detrans woman. It’s really sad.

hopefully those reading this can take my words into consideration and use it to improve yourselves or your community (if you’re a radfem). i love womanhood and being a woman and i would love to share that joy with my sisters, but i just can’t when these issues i’ve experienced are in the back of my mind. I want radical feminism to be a safe space, a place where sisters can go to talk to women, relate to women, cry with and support women. but so far, the only love and support i’ve received has been from the trans community. that speaks volumes.

i am going to post more about my experience with finding my womanhood again in the future, so if you’re a detrans woman yourself, trans ally or not, consider following me :) i’d love to build myself a little community

[btnclmrttn]

Romantic Relationship HCs with L (SFW)

In the times when writing letters was the norm form of communication, that's how fast everything moves when it comes to a developing relationship with L. It is not a primary goal and he is in zero rush

Proactive, yes, but shy with it. Keeping you at arms length but with an open hand at the same time. You would need to have an incredible amount of patience while he navigates these unfamiliar feelings over the duration of time you know each other

Undeniably appreciative of your companionship, and will express it daily. Out of everything he has you're what makes him feel most lucky. That he is accepted and loved inside and out enough to be committed to

Does want to get married. On paper. A private sort of celebration. Private as in just the two of you. Supposedly the best dressed day of your life, and he's supposed to share? No

Spares no expense for a honeymoon. Longer than a traditional one, as well. Wants to indulge in his new life with you for a while before the cold water of the criminal world has to hit again

When living together, you have separate bedrooms. Not only is it beneficial in general for couples but his schedule is too radical to just share a room with you.

If he's been that busy and misses you, you'll find him in your bed instead of his own if he has the time of day. Which is not very often. Not even to sleep, just to be surrounded by the smell of you in a comfy place.

He's used to having his way, for the most part, with life. He's a spoiled man. So he will get subtly bratty with you at times when he's lacking affection or something related.

Any household expenses are on him. You quite literally have the option to just, not work. If you want to have something to do or your own money, sure, but he reminds you time and again you can just be his partner and pursue more of your hobbies in life instead.

No social media postings of him. It's a safety and privacy thing. Despises it. It's heavily insecure, he will ramble time and again. About digital footprints and all.

+

No photos taken on phones, or that need to be digitalized to print. You can say you're committed, of course, but he's dead set on the anonymity. Might have an underlying worry of someone harmful getting their hands on you entirely just because of his line of work

Also means he's relatively reserved in public. PDA is rare to none. Lines with his privacy preferences.

You'll be learning a lot of games. Would like it if there was a game you could teach him he doesn't know (Midwestern insert: hit him with euchre)

Doesn't discuss you in particular at all when he's working with others, but he gets a bit of an ego boost when he gets to say he is, in fact, a married man. Since no one seems to suspect it. But your name stays out of his mouth, and anything too specific that could make your identity clear

Fidget wedding band. New stim unlocked. Depending on the type of case he takes on, he might take off his ring to prevent any risk to you. It sours him a little, but it's the way his world is

Disagreements are inevitable and he never takes them too personally. Not someone who yells, he also doesn't like conflict with you, so he will apologize rather swiftly to diffuse things before they start

Even if he's having a busy day, or somewhere he can't see you, he keeps it in his head that part of that day is to contact you in some way so you're not out of the loop and neglected. Maybe he'll have flowers sent to you. Or, in your good graces with Watari, he'll send a message through him. Just so distance doesn't feel cold

As for a family, it would be in his mind often. Early on, he would work it out in his head. How many children would he want? If they were adopted or biological, both maybe. He thinks about it more than he admits. Mostly the thought of you being a parental figure interests him, aside from the successor aspect.

The decision likely wouldn't be made till later. Way later. When you're both older, say 40s or even 50s. He's not bothered by the prospect of being an older father, considering Watari's age and who he is to him. He understands the responsibility and being younger doesn't want to have to choose between a family obligation and the dedication he puts into his work

[bandtrees]

this has always been one of my favorite lines in this scene it’s so striking to me. i think debating over callum’s level of lucidity and what can or cannot “fix” him is deeply antithecal to what the story is trying to express with him - but the idea that callum is still there and still a person who does have the capacity to love mingus, just not in a way she can ever comprehend or accept, because she can't comprehend or accept anything outside her narrow worldview, is sooooo good.

there is no way of actually knowing if callum is proud of mingus, much less recognizes her at all - but it's added to by the fact there's only so much of that she would accept even if he could. ultimately, she wants validation and power, his prestige, from him, she wants a supportive parental figure she never had - there's only so much of that callum is able to provide even in a world where her stint to fix his memory actually worked. he's like a hundred. he never even MET her. to say nothing of all he's missed in the past fifty-odd years. to say nothing of how his age may have messed with his mind deteriorating even without the pre-existing brain damage.

and mingus' phrasing here implies he doesn't even look at her when she visits - which brings me to the visit that radicalized her: the one after her surgery, where he was watching gingi out the window.

obviously, callum watching gingi is mostly for the thematics of it all, how similar the two of them are in ways mingus refuses to recognize, but theres also the thought of... callum's been sitting alone in that room for over half his life, barely lucid if at all. of course he's going to be drawn to a brightly-colored thing making noises and knocking stuff over outside. if he can't respond to stimuli of the people around him he's at the very least going to latch onto something more visually interesting than Brown Wall and Brown Figure.

but it's not like mingus can think of it like that, because she's internalized so much about her grandfather and built up such a specific, personalized vision of him - she doesn't see him as an elderly man with (a fictional equivalent to) dementia, she sees him as President Callum Crown™, the man she personally has to please and live up to the legacy of and make proud, disregarding the fact that's not something he has the mental capacity to even do - because she's so obsessed with validation and complete control that the only way she can get it is by either subjugating others and forcing it out of them (what she does with her townsfolk), or just completely projecting on someone who, for her purposes, is basically a blank slate.

which is maddening to her in its own way, see how crazy she drives herself trying to restore callum's memory in the first place - but also, would she be happy even if callum could see her for who she is? post-game, when she's working on herself, that's an irrelevant question as she's pushed past that need, but as we know her? absolutely not.

i love the ch3 standoff between norm and mingus as a show of "Okay guys let’s see who can dehumanize this disabled guy harder (via pedestal-putting) and justify themselves for it better" and why i think it is so important that it’s gingi who reads the postcard and ultimately speaks for callum instead of either of them, or even the narrator. they can’t read, and they struggle to, but they manage to get it right even when people are telling them to stop. and the fact they’re able to do it at all, are given the chance to do so, and are ultimately the one to wind down this conflict shows that the world of dialtown, while not perfect, really is how callum would have wanted it.

both gingi and callum are some of the most altruistic and human characters ever, and the crux of their parallels is that they are denied this by close-minded people because they happen to Behave Strangely. it's why seeing mingus act the way she does hits so hard - she loves her paw-paw, yes, but if she were to see him in a vacuum, a one-limbed man who can hardly think, much less speak for himself: or even his younger self, who was struggling to make ends meet with his odd inventions...

...well, the feeling norm's imagining here would probably be mutual. mingus' relationship with bigotry is a very fascinating one, she's very close-minded but views certain oddities (ie her flesh-head) as having earned their place and thus being fine - she's a freak too, by her own admission, but she's doing it for a just and wider purpose, so it's fine. which is, ironically, the ideology callum forced upon himself.

callum was obsessed with helping people, pushing himself to do more and more, because it was the only way he ever found respect. if he didn't help people and have grand visions for the world and make himself "useful" to society at large, then what would he be, if not a freak?

mingus and her paw-paw are very similar people, from their well-intentioned extremism, to their stubbornness and paranoia, to their inability to view themselves as anything more than a vessel for that grand cause they believe in (callum in the dialup, mingus in restoring her paw-paw's memory) - which is funny, because if mingus was able to view callum, and herself, as a flawed human person, she would come to understand how similar they really are.

:(

[croquis-el]

Differences in localization and the original pt. 1

I am starting a series of posts with the goal of familiarizing players with some of the differences that localization creates for us in contrast to the original.

Some moments are radically different, misleading and causing controversy, while some do not change the essence of what is happening, but are still noticeably different

Disclaimer: these posts will be written solely for the purpose of familiarization; I do not force anyone to play the game in Japanese, because you are free to choose the version of the game that is comfortable for you. I just noticed some moments and want to share them with you.

The localization of Gyakuten Saiban (Ace Attorney) is essentially good, but there are some moments, IMHO, that I personally would not adapt or change in any way

One of the most serious changes, which, in my opinion, should not have been touched at all, is Mitsurugi's (Edgeworth) phobias.

As if case 1-4 never happened.

In the Japanese version, when examining the files in Mitsurugi's office, Naruhodō will be perplexed about the need for such high shelves - they could collapse during an earthquake.

････おかしいな。アイツ、 地震がニガテなはずだから……

Okashī na. Aitsu, jishin ga nigatena hazudakara……

...That's strange. He's supposed to be bad with earthquakes...

でもさ。地震が起こったら、 部屋中にファイルの雨が降るね。

demo sa. Jishin ga okottara, heya-chū ni fairu no amegafuru ne.

But if an earthquake happens, files will rain down all over the room.

In the localization (for some reason) at this point Mitsurugi was given a fear of heights. For what reason... I don't understand

___________________________________________

Next, another big difference is Naruhodo's food preferences

In the Japanese version, Tomi the clown offers him miso ramen (which is cooked in chicken broth and miso), which Naruhodo refuses and says that he prefers tonkotsu ramen (cooked in pork broth and boiled pork is added to it).

ホラ。ホラ。 食う? みそラーメン。

hora. hora. Kuu? Miso rāmen.

Look. Look. Want some miso ramen?

あいにくぼくは とんこつ派なんです。

ainiku boku wa tonkotsu-hana ndesu.

Unfortunately, I prefer tonkotsu (ramen).

That is, Naruhodo literally says that he would prefer pork, not chicken.

What about the localization? It's the other way around.

The clown offers him a burger (the patties for which are usually made from beef and pork), but he says that he would rather choose a chicken sandwich.

Why?

___________________________________________

Vending machine in 1-3

I have no complaints about its contents (it is adapted), but here another preference of Naruhodo is lost

“お茶”“みそ汁”“おしるこ” “くず湯”“おでん”････

“ocha” “misoshiru” “o shiruko” “kuzu yu” “oden”

"Tea" "Miso soup" "Oshiruko" "Kudzu soup" "Oden" ...

ラインナップが 和風に統一されている。

rain'nappu ga wafū ni tōitsu sa rete iru.

The lineup is unified in Japanese style.

“ウーロン茶”すらないぞ。

“ūron cha” sura nai zo.

There's not even "oolong tea."

In the Japanese version, reading the menu of the vending machine, Naruhodo annoyedly comments that "there is not even oolong tea". He literally names the tea he likes!

In the localization, he is disappointed that the food in the vending machine is too... ordinary, and he was expecting something that is not usually sold there (popcorn).

___________________________________________

Naruhodō University

Case 3-1 is very rich in information about the young Naruhodō, including the name of the university he attended

In the Japanese version, it is Yumei University (the same university where his ancestor Ryunosuke Naruhodō studied during the Meiji era - then it was called Yumei Imperial University), which creates an important reference to Dai Gyakuten Saiban (The Great Ace Attorney)

私の依頼人。勇盟大学の 芸術学部3回生で、 カゼをひいている。

watashi no iraijin. Yūmei daigaku no geijutsu gakubu 3-kaisei de, kaze o hīte iru.

My client. A third-year student in the art department at Yumei University, suffering from a cold.

In the localization, he studies at Ivy University, as if referring to the famous Ivy League (elite universities).

A very good decision that shows Naruhodō's abilities and the high quality of his education (my clever boy)

___________________________________________

Interesting addition

And the last one for today, a conversation with Mask in the detention center

When Yusaku (Ron) tells the story of the allegedly lost vase, Naruhodō makes a comment about the absurdity of his story

(････どうも、ハナシが アヤフヤだなあ･･･)(dōmo, hanashi ga ayafuya da nā)

(... I guess the story is a bit vague...)

The localization decided to make a reference to Naruhodō's education in the field of art, and he compares Mask's story to the surreal paintings of Dali.

A nice addition, but still different from the original version.

___________________________________________

In total, in my opinion, 3 unsuccessful changes out of 5.

If you also noticed any differences - feel free to tell us about them. Let's educate ourselves together.

It will be a bit more difficult with the subsequent parts, because I can't buy the Japanese version of TGAA (it is only available to a certain list of countries), and I don't have the new Apollo trilogy and the Investigations duology to check every little thing (and I don't have an extra $80), and those who record the walkthrough do not always check every clue, where the contradictions lie.

[livingdreams97]

Tara Carpenter -- "The lies I keep" (Part 5)

Tara Carpenter x Male reader/oc

Summary: Having a normal life is difficult after the one she considered her best friend tries to kill her and causes distrust in everyone she meets. But something or rather someone manages to enter her heart and hiding that person is the best thing that occurs to her.

Words: 5.158

PREVIOUS // NEXT

Masterlist

Tara's POV

I can notice how the atmosphere changes radically as soon as I ask my question, becoming heavier and full of uncertainty.

I can also see how my boyfriend's face changes completely, his body completely rigid and the slightly lost look he has.

I clench my jaw tightly, trying not to jump to any negative conclusions and have my mind start creating reasons for Gale to know my boyfriend's name. The guy I'm completely in love with, who's one of the few people I trust the most and have allowed myself to be vulnerable with since what happened a year ago.

A boyfriend who, even before we started dating, was friendly and understanding of my story. Someone who has given me all the time, space and support I have needed since the moment we became close.

The boy who, when I admitted that I lied to him about everything I had told him about myself, from my origins to my last name in the beginning, just smiled at me and assured me that he understood my reasons.

The same person who comforted me when, after admitting my lies and learning my true identity, allowed me to cry on his shoulder. Who wiped away my tears and made a horrible joke, causing me to laugh genuinely for the first time in a long time.

For those very reasons, I'm trying not to jump to any conclusions , giving him a chance to explain himself and clarify why the hell Gale Weathers knows him by name.

Because I don't want to think that the first person I ever fell in love with was just using me for some unknown reason and that would break my heart.

Y/n: We can talk about it somewhere private.- he whispers looking at the driver and then back at me.

I stare at him for a few moments, seeing a whirlwind of emotions flashing in his eyes and I can only nod at his question. I look at him for a few more seconds, before I can't continue with the uncertainty and turn my face towards my sister, moving away from him a little.

But I don't know if looking at my sister is better or worse, as I can see the distrust and anger reflected in her eyes as she stares at my boyfriend.

So I decide the best option is to look ahead and ignore the two people sitting on either side of me.

The rest of the trip home passes with the four travelers in complete silence and an atmosphere so tense that it could be cut with a spoon.

When we get out of the taxi, Y/n pays for the service and both my sister and I start walking towards the building.

Y/n: Tara! - I hear him call me, causing me to stop walking and look at him over my shoulder. - Can we talk at your house? The three of us . - he specifies looking at me with a pleading look.

Tara: Let's go.- I nod quietly, shaking my head towards the building and resuming my march towards the apartment.

Sam: I don't think it's a good idea for him to come into our house.- she murmurs as she stands beside me as we walk up the stairs. -I don't trust him, much less seeing as he's related to Gale in some way without you knowing.- she whispers, looking at the person walking behind us with distrust.

Tara: But I'm the one who decides whether or not I trust him.- I reproach her firmly, not wanting my sister and her opinions to dictate what I have to feel or think.

Sam: Tara...- she starts to say but I stop her immediately.

Tara: Stop.- I deny, interrupting her.

We finish climbing the stairs and Sam opens the door with some reluctance due to Y/n's presence. When he opens the door, the three of us enter and my boyfriend, being the last to enter, closes the door behind him.

Tara: Quinn? - I call, seeing that there was no one in the living room. - Quinn, are you home? - I ask, knocking on her bedroom door without receiving any answer.

Sam: Mindy sent me a text. - She tells me with her phone in her hand. - She says that they are expecting us at your university campus. - She informs me, looking up.

Tara: Is Quinn with them? - I asked her walking towards the living room.

Sam: Yes, they are all together and she sent me the location so I know where they are exactly. - she explains to me, putting her cell phone in the back pocket of her pants.

I nod tiredly, letting myself fall onto the couch and closing my eyes for a few moments. I hear someone clear their throat, causing me to open my eyes and see my boyfriend standing in the entrance of the living room, shifting uncomfortably in his spot.

Tara: Come here.- I whisper with an attempt at a smile, patting the couch beside me and watching as he walks nervously towards me . -Sam.- I call her to join me and she sits in the armchair.

Once the three of us are seated, I watch as Y/n nervously plays with his fingers and begins to dig his nails into the palms of his hands.

I slowly move one of my hands towards his and gently place it between them, preventing him from further harming himself.

Y/n: Gale has known me since I was 8 years old.- he begins to tell nervously. -What I'm going to say now can't leave the room under any circumstances.- he says connecting our gazes and then looking at my sister.

Sam: I can't promise to do something if I don't know what it's about.- she denies, crossing her arms and looking at my boyfriend with her eyes half closed.

Tara: Sam.- I scold her for her attitude. -Nothing you say will leave this room.- I assure him sincerely, watching as his shoulders relax slightly.

Y/n: Before you told me, I already knew about the Woodsboro murders and Ghostface.- he admits with some guilt in his gaze.

Sam: Everyone with a TV, computer or phone knows about the murders and even more about Ghostface - she reproaches him with a certain bite in her tone of voice.

Tara: Sam, that's enough. - I scold her again for her attitude. -Let him speak and explain himself without interrupting him. - I ask her firmly.

My sister looks at me with some anger, but just keeps her arms crossed and lets her back fall against the back of the chair.

Y/n: What I mean is that I've been through the same thing you two went through last year.- he admits and I look at him with wide eyes, surprised. -When you told me what happened to you, I wanted to tell you that I had experienced the same thing and be honest. But no one else could know.- he assures me with complete sincerity.

Tara: But that's impossible.- I deny confused. - You're from New York, you were born and raised here. Besides, the last attack was 11 years ago, at that time you would have been...- I say trying to make sense of what he's saying.

Y/n: 8 years old.- finish the sentence for me .

Sam: That's impossible.- she denies immediately. -In 2011 there was no victim or witness that young.- she argues looking at my boyfriend with suspicion.

Y/n: Not publicly.- he agrees with my sister. -Gale, Dewey, Sheriff Hicks and Sidney made sure that no one knew of my existence during the Ghostafce attacks that year.- he explains with a sigh.

Sam: And how are you related to Ghostface? - she asks, leaning forward and paying more attention to him.

Y/n: Jill Roberts was my sister.- he admits looking at the ground and I can't help but let out a sound of surprise.

Sam: That can't be, Jill was an only child. - She immediately denies, implying that my boyfriend is lying.

Y/n: She was the only daughter my father had with Kate Roberts, but she wasn't an only child.- he says and I'm increasingly surprised. -My father left Kate when Jill wasn't even born yet, because according to him, Kate always had her head somewhere else and never paid attention to her marriage. So my father asked for a divorce and moved to New York for a great job offer.- he tells us with a small grimace when he admits that his father abandoned her daughter.

Tara: But I never saw you in Woodsboro .- I say trying to remember someone named Y/n Willson .

Y/n: Because I only went a couple of weeks during the summer since I was 5 years old.- he clarifies taking a deep breath. -That year my father took me to woodsboro later than usual because a work trip and that's why I was there when it happened. My father never wanted to have much of a relationship with Jill and he showed it every time he dropped me off and picked me up from Kate's house. But Jill was a good sister and I had fun with her, until she decided that being famous was more important than anything else in the world.- he tells us with some resentment in his voice and tears in his eyes.

POV You

I can see that the more I tell them, the more surprise and disbelief I see on the Carpenter sisters faces. But it is completely understandable, since what I am telling has been a secret of summary and I hope it will remain so after this.

Sam: But what happened? How .. no ..- she asks without knowing very well how to form it.

Y/n: Kirby invited my sister to watch some movies and spend the afternoon at her house, so Jill took me with her. - I begin to tell what happened that night feeling the sweat on my hands. - Charlie and Jill 's boyfriend-ex were also there when we arrived. Everything was going well, but from one moment to the next I am only aware of a strong pain in my back and head. I woke up in the hospital four days later with 3 stab wounds in the back and a mild contusion. - I explain trying to be as precise as possible.

Sam: So you already knew who Tara was when you met her.- she accuses me angrily, getting up from the chair and taking a step towards me.

Y/n: No.- I immediately deny, stepping back when I see her advancing towards me.

Tara: Sam, stop! - she yells at her sister, also getting up and standing in front of me.

Y/n: I didn't know who Tara or any of you were before last night.- I assure her with complete sincerity. -After what happened, my father and all the adults made me promise that no matter what happened, I would never get involved with anything related to Ghostface .- I defend myself. -If it weren't for what happened to Dewey, Gale wouldn't have even told me about last year's attack.- I admit, feeling the pain of last year when the reporter told me that her ex-husband had died.

Sam: And you never thought about telling your girlfriend? - she asks me angrily, pointing at her sister.

Y/n: I wanted to, but I made a promise to Dewey that no matter what happened, I wouldn't tell anyone under any circumstances.- I answer feeling a tear escape. -I promised him, i promised that i wouldn´t tell and yet I 'm breaking that promise so you guys know the truth.- I say feeling guilty for breaking the promise.

Sam: What if my sister is in danger now because of you? - she claims, starting to move from one side of the room to the other.

Tara: You know that's not true , Sam.- she denies in my defense. -Y/n didn't even know Jason or Greg, but I did and so did Mindy. It's more likely that she's in danger because of me, than I am because of him.- she reminds her sister with some logic.

The room goes silent after that, with Tara sitting back down next to me and her sister leaving the room.

After a tense silence, I decide that the sisters need time and space to process what I've told them. So I decide it's best if I leave them alone.

Y/n: I think it's better if I go.- I whisper, feeling guilty for breaking the promise and for having hidden the truth from Tara.

Tara: No, wait.- she asks me, grabbing my arm when I make a move to get up and pulling me to stay seated. -Don't go, please.- she begs me, looking me straight in the eyes.

Y/n: You're not mad at me? - I asked her a little unsure.

Tara: Were you angry with me when I told you the truth? - she asks me with another question and a slight smile on her face.

Y/n: No.- I deny in a low voice.

Tara: Then why should I be angry, when all you've done is keep a promise and protect yourself? - she answers, getting closer to me and caressing my cheek lovingly.

Y/n: But it's not the same.- I assure her, unable to take the guilt away. -When you admitted the truth, we were just friends and now we're in a relationship for more than four months.- I point out with a grimace.

Tara: I don't see any difference.- she says without removing the smile from her beautiful face. -I lied to you about my past and who I was for safety. You hid a part of your past for your safety and I will never blame you for that.- she assures me moving her hand from my cheek to the back of my neck and pulling me towards her.

Y/n: But... - I try to say but her lips interrupt me.

Her soft, plump lips feel like clouds against mine. Her hands slip into my hair and she massages it lovingly, causing any trace of stress or insecurity to immediately disappear from my body.

When air is needed, our lips part and she gently rests her forehead against mine. I feel her slightly agitated breathing hit my face, giving me complete peace.

Tara: I love you.- she admits for the first time and I pull away from her with my eyes wide open.

I look at her in complete shock, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water, not saying anything no matter how much my brain is giving the order.

Y/n: I ..y .. oo .- I try to admit that I love her too but my mouth doesn't let me.

Tara: You look incredibly cute.- She laughs at my attitude, pulling my neck again and bringing our lips together again in a kiss full of passion.

Y/n: I love you too.- I manage to say when we separate from the kiss.

Tara: Let's get changed before we join the others.- she whispers to me before standing up and grabbing my hand, pulling me towards her room. -And a shower wouldn't hurt either of us.- she says, looking over her shoulder at me with an amused look.

Y/n: Are you making me an indecent proposal? - I asked her raising an eyebrow with some amusement .

Tara: Separately.- she clarifies, moving her eyebrows suggestively. -What a perverted mind you have.- she shakes her head amused, entering her room and pulling me inside. -I can lend you a shirt, but you'll have to reuse the pants.- she tells me, opening her dresser and rummaging through it.

Y/n: Maybe I should go to my apartment to change.- I suggest looking at the blood stain on the side of my pants and the dirt from having dragged myself across the floor in them.

Tara: You're not leaving my side until this is all sorted out.- she tells me firmly, although it's more of an order. -So you're coming or what?- she asks, leaving the shirt against my chest and winking at me, before leaving the room.

I throw the shirt on the bed, hurrying up behind my girlfriend and picking her up as she's about to enter the bathroom. I walk into the bathroom with her in my arms as she giggles and lock the door behind us.

Tara's POV

After Y/n explained his involvement with Gale and we changed into clean clothes. At least Sam and I, since my boyfriend's pants were still a little dirty from the night before. We met up at the university campus with the rest of the group.

Quinn, Anika, and Sam are sitting on one of the benches on campus, while Chad, myself, Y/n, and Ethan are sitting on the other bench. Mindy, who has named herself as the expert on the Ghostface movies and spokesperson for the situation, is standing in front of everyone.

Mindy: Listen up, geeks.- She calls the attention of those involved. -As scary as all this is, I'm glad I can redeem myself for not having guessed the killers the last time.- she says with a slight smile on her face, while she adjusts her top.

Chad: Yep.- agrees with his sister, with a notebook and pen in his hands.

Y/n: Is this serious? - he asks me in a whisper so that only I can hear him from my left.

I respond with a nod and a light squeeze of his hand, which has been clasped together in my lap since we sat down.

Mindy: Very well.- she says, taking up the word again. -In my opinion, someone wants to make a sequel to the requel.- she begins to explain her theory to us.

Anika: What is a requel? - she asks after raising her hand with obvious confusion.

Mindy: You're so cute. The questions at the end.- she answers with a somewhat tender look, without really answering her question.

Sam: Stab 1 was in Woodsboro.- my sister comments with her arms crossed. - Stab 2 was in college.- she points to the locations from both movies.

Tara: Could it be that the killer is trying to copy the movies? - I ask at the connection between the movies and what 's happening now.

Mindy: It's a possibility.- she answers with a smile. - The heroes are at the university, Check. New mysterious characters that are introduced to fill the list of suspects and/or victims; check, check, check and check.- she comments pointing at Quinn, Anika, Ethan and my boyfriend.

Ethan: We're off to a bad start.- he comments upon being singled out as a possible suspect or victim.

Mindy: But it's not based on Stab 2. - she denies with some certainty that she doesn't like it.

Tara: Why not? - I asked confused by her assurance.

Mindy: It would make sense if this was just a sequel. But we're not in a sequel, because nobody makes normal sequels anymore.- she answers, gesturing with her hands. - We're in a franchise!- she exclaims with a somewhat worrying emotion after a few moments of silence, since we're in the sights of another killer. - And certain rules must be followed in active franchises.- she explains, moving in her place.

Sam: Here we go.- she sighs looking at his hands at what is to come.

Mindy: Rule number one: Everything is bigger than before, the budget, the cast, the number of victims. There are chases, there are shootouts, decapitations... We have to improve on what was before to attract the public - she explains with even more emotion than at the beginning.

Chad: Decapitations?- he asks with a certain tone of fear and insecurity.

Mindy: Decapitations.- she says pointing at her brother who writes something in the notebook. -Rule number two: What happened last time, now is the opposite. Franchises only survive if they subvert expectations.- she continues explaining.

Y/n: What do you mean by subvert? - he asks confused, just like the rest who haven't been through Woodsboro .

Mindy: Questions at the end.- she repeats with a hand gesture. -If the last killers were offended, whiny movie geeks with Letterboxd accounts instead of a personality, I can tell you that this time it will be the opposite.- she continues with her explanation. -And rule number three: No one is safe. Classic characters are cannon fodder at this point, they only bring them out to kill them in an attempt to pull on nostalgia. The future looks bad for Gale and Kirby.- she assures us and I can feel the body to my left tense completely.

I glance surreptitiously to my left, seeing my boyfriend's serious but worried face and I can't help but feel a little guilty for having involved him in all this.

Because even though he experienced it as a child, no one knows that he witnessed anything and that it is related to Gale or any of Ghostface 's victims in 2011. So he was safe, until he met me and we started dating.

Mindy: But that's not the worst part.- she assures, making me pay attention to her again.

Chad: Now is when she tells us the worst part.- he says confidently pointing at his sister with the pen.

Mindy: The worst part is that franchises are just a series of episodic installments designed to milk a brand, which means that the leads are now super expendable too.- she tells us, looking at us all. -Laurie Strode , Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Sally Hardesty, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond.... Even Luke Skywalker! They all died so that their franchises would live.- she exclaims with a smile on his face listing each character. -So it's not just the group of friends. Any of us could die at any moment, especially Sam and Tara.- she says with some insecurity and guilt for mentioning my sister and me.

We all fell silent at my best friend's explanation. I looked at my sister with some concern, seeing that she was looking at me the same way and that made my level of insecurity and fear increase.

I feel a squeeze on my hand, so I turn my face towards my boyfriend and see some fear reflected in his eyes as he looks at me. I offer him a small smile, trying to hide my concern and trying to reassure him.

He continues to watch me with the same worried expression, so I move closer to him and rest my head on his shoulder. I immediately feel him let go of my hand for a few seconds, before feeling his arm around my waist and his other hand intertwine with mine.

My body relaxes completely against my boyfriend's, feeling his warmth envelop me and the feeling of security invade me, while Ethan speaks.

Ethan: Am I going to die a virgin? - he asks, somewhat scared, giving us all information we didn't need to know.

Mindy: Too much information.- she answers what everyone present is thinking. -But it brings us to the current suspects. Ethan, the shy dorky one that no one suspects, because he's the shy and dorky boy.- she explains looking at the boy.

Ethan: Why am I on the suspect list? - he asks immediately. - I was assigned to share a room with Chad by lottery. - he says defensively and I can feel my boyfriend's body tense up the slightest bit.

I look up for a few seconds, catching my boyfriend's attention and asking him with my eyes if he's okay. But he shakes his head and leaves a kiss on my forehead, letting me know he'll tell me later.

Mindy: That can be rigged.- she answers with some suspicion. -It could be a strategy to get you closer to us.- she says before walking towards our roommate. - Quinn, the slutty roommate. A classic in horror movies.- she comments giving her fingers a kiss, in a way of applauding the character.

Quinn: More like sex positive.- she corrects her on her definition. -But thank you?- she asks confused, not quite sure how to take it.

Mindy: And how did you end up living with Sam and Tara? - she asks with some suspicion in her voice.

Quinn: Responding to their online ad.- she answers unsure of the situation and the question.

Mindy: Okay, don't tell me any more. You've blamed yourself enough already.- she assures her in a celebratory manner.

Tara: The ad was anonymous, Mindy . - I inform my friend. - And we investigated her. Plus her father is a cop. - I remind her, knowing that Sam searched everywhere for her, to make sure she was someone trustworthy.

Mindy: And that makes it more likely that she's the killer, because having a cop father is a brutal cover-up. Don't you know how these movies work? - she points at me, raising her voice when I say that her father is a cop.

Y/n: Plus his father is the one handling this case.- he shares out loud and I look at him badly, while my best friend points at him with a proud smile.

Mindy: See, that makes it even more suspicious. What 's the coincidence that your roommate's cop father is assigned to a case in which his daughter is involved. -She defends her point of view and I continue to look at my boyfriend dirty.

Tara: You're not helping.- I whisper, somewhat annoyed with him for agreeing with her and playing along with my friend.

He just shrugs in response and makes a gesture with his lips, not saying anything else. I stare at him with half-closed eyes for a couple more seconds , before turning my face and looking back at the only person standing.

Quinn: Is she always like this? - she asks out loud to us.

Mindy: Then there's Anika .- walking towards her girlfriend and receiving an air kiss from her. -Never trust the love interest.- she says looking at her seriously. -Which also brings us to Y/n. The secret love interest that nobody knew of one of the main characters and that nobody knew anything about until a day ago .- she comments after walking to be in front of us and staring at him.

Tara: He didn't even know who I was at first.- I quickly jumped to my boyfriend's defense.

Mindy: And how did you meet, if I may ask? - she asks him, completely ignoring me.

Y/n: In the introduction to production class, they made us do a project in pairs and since we sat next to each other, we had to do it together. - he answers calmly.

Mindy: And who sat next to whom? - she asks, alternating her gaze between mine and my boyfriend's.

Y/n: Me, I was the one who sat next to Tara.- he answers without giving her words much thought.

Mindy: No need to say more, what a coincidence that in the only class you have together you sat next to her. That's very suspicious. - she claps her hands concluding with her main suspects.

Tara: How do you know that this is the only class we share? - I ask my friend, crossing my arms.

Mindy: Because we share all the classes except one? - she answers with a question of her own and I nod in agreement.

Y/n: The fact that I sat next to her doesn't mean anything.- he says without much importance. - That day there was a traffic jam and I was late to class because my parents insisted on bringing me to my first day of university.- he explains with some embarrassment, with a certain blush on his cheeks and looking very cute. - Besides, it was the only free seat in the entire class.- he explains calmly.

Mindy: It's still suspicious.- she assures him, looking at him with her eyes half closed.

Sam: Okay, so we already have the rules and also the suspects.- she says tiredly, wanting to end the conversation.

Ethan: Wait, wait. What's wrong with you guys?- he asks, pointing at the rest of us who haven't been named.

Mindy: I think we can rule out all four of us, because we went through the same thing last year.- she answers sincerely.

Chad: I agree.- he says pointing at his sister with the pen again.

Quinn: I don't agree.- she denies looking at the only one still standing. -What if the trauma you experienced caused one or more of you to go crazy?- she asks looking at all of us.

Ethan: That's it. Or the fame that the murders gave you left you wanting more.- he supports the redhead of the group. -I mean, to be honest, some of the theories about Sam are...- he starts to say but I interrupt him immediately.

Tara: Don't you dare.- I threatened him pushing my boyfriend back so I could look him in the face seriously.

Anika: Okay. Quinn's right, it's something we need to address. Because if we're suspects, then you're suspects too.- she says, pointing at everyone.

We all sat in silence for a few moments, processing everything that had been said and hinted at.

Sam: You will stay at our house, it is better that we stay together and avoid any danger.- she comments getting up from the bench and starting to walk.

Mindy: Good idea, this way we can keep an eye on them in case they do something.- she points to my sister with a smile.

Y/n: I have to go get some clean clothes.- he tells me when we get up too.

Tara: I'll go with you.- I tell him, interlacing our hands. -Sam, I'm going with Y/n to his house to get some clothes and then we'll meet up with you guys.- I tell my sister, pulling my boyfriend in the other direction.

Sam: No! - she immediately exclaims angrily. -Is what happened last night not enough for you?- she asks me walking towards us.

Tara: We're in broad daylight and if something happens I have Y/n to help me.- I remind her, pointing to the boy next to me, who also helped us last night.

Sam: You can't go alone with him, isn't anything that Mindy said or what happened last year clear to you? - she tells me, somewhat upset.

Tara: Oh my god Sam!- I exclaimed tired with her attitude. -This is what I meant last night, you have to let me go and live my life.- I say trying to stay calm and not make a scene on campus.

Y/n: It's okay, Tara.- he assures me, squeezing our intertwined hands. -I can go alone and then join you guys.- he tells me with a smile.

Tara: No, you can't go alone.- I immediately deny. -I'm going with you.- I say confidently.

Sam: Taraa...- he draws out my name with a deep breath.

Y/n: If not you can come with us, Sam.- he says getting my sister's attention. -My apartment is not very far from here, 15 minutes walk and then we can go to your apartment by subway.- he says pointing with his thumb towards where his apartment is.

My sister is silent for a few seconds, thinking about what my boyfriend just told her and looking over her shoulder at the rest of the group.

Sam: Guys, I'm going with Tara and Y/n, you guys go to our apartment.- she tells them, to which they all nod and start to walk away.

The three of us stand in awkward silence for a few moments, before my boyfriend lightly tugs on my hand and we head off to his apartment. My sister stands on my other side and we walk in complete silence.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I just wanted to say that the way you characterize and talk about Miguel has actually really helped me with thinking about how to write for him 😭 genuinely I love the way you describe him as an actual like person and not just some sex addict or someone who's extremely distant and cold. I hope you continue writing mild Miguel because it's so refreshing compared to all the other shit I see 😭💕

THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS A MIGUEL SAFE SPACE AND LIKE- CAN I BE REAL FOR A SECOND???

MIGUEL ISN'T AN ASSHOLE YOU PEOPLE ARE JUST MEAN - A.K.A -

My Defense & Evidence of a Milder, Non-aggressive Sympathetic Miguel O'hara.

[This is a half-break down half rant about Mild Miguel, when we see Miguel's true nature, and what fandom gets wrong about him. I have my evidence.

this is shorter than my usual posts but I'm going absolute apeshit Miguel Mode by the end so sorry you have to see that.]

I think Miguel and Hobie are the two most complex characters in the film. Like - both of them equally.

It's just really easy to explain one over the other.

I feel this way because every character we see in the entire movie - Miles, Gwen, Peter, Jess, Rio, Jeff, The Spot, everyone - is forthcoming and clear about their intentions and motive throughout the movie.

When we're watching the movie the first time, we understand Miles motive, and Peter's, and Gwen. In real time. It's there and stated. Miles wants to save his dad, Peter wants to be a better mentor, Gwen just wants peace basically.

But when we're watching for the first time - we have no idea what Hobie OR Miguel is capable of until they do it.

They are the two we're surprised by. (And they're also exact opposites who somehow don't seem to be complete adversaries)

They're the only two within the film who we are left to speculate their motive, their drive, and what they'll do next.

They're the only two in the film who are truly meant to catch us off guard with their behavior.

Leading up to Hobie's big twist, there was a LOT of misdirection. I think the same is true for Miguel...but like..the fandom isn't picking up on the misdirection AT ALL.

I have a lot of ideas and thoughts about Miguel and his character and honestly I think it's the exact opposite of what the fandom sees.

But when its's Hobie, it's very easy to understand him, just read the wiki on Punk and you're good.

But I don't think anyone has look closer at Miguel yet.

I genuinely believe that the reason Miles got away was because Miguel went soft.

He was watching the videos of Gaby to remind himself why he was doing this - why he had to stand his ground, but when Miles started panicking, and begging to know how much time he had left - Miguel slipped up. He went soft.

And he told him 'two days'.

You can see it in Miguel's face when Miles is asking.

That's not the face of a man considering assault. That's not anger. He's wavering.

He didn't have to tell Miles how long he had left. But he did - why? Cause he thought 'I'd kill for two days with Gabby. A lot of people get less warning about death - Maybe he can spend those two days with his fath-'

and then Miles is like 'word?? two days to stop you?? iight im out also fuck yall' - which understandable have a nice day

But like......Miguel wouldn't have said it if he knew it would fuck him over. He didn't KNOW Miles was radicalized cause he didn't know Hobie had spoken to him. He thought that telling him might convince him. If he knew Miles was gonna run - there's no need to tell him anything.

He could've lied and said "I DON'T KNOW. But maybe let's talk about this."

But he didn't. He slipped up.

He's SOFT. Everytime he's mean, or angry - He has to think about it. Like when he looked at Hobie - and thought about it. He has to MAKE himself do it. It isn't natural to him.

Nobody else in the room was gonna answer Miles. Miles wouldn't have known. But Miguel told him two days. And because of that, that specific slip-up, Miles is trying to save his dad.

Why? Because he's SOFT. CAPITAL S SOFT.

Miguel is not a raging monster. Or aggressive. Or manipulative.

He's a guy who thinks he's holding the universe together with duct tape and a kid is in front of him begging to know how long they have left with their father and he tells them and because of that they get away and now everything he worked for is gonna emplode in his face because he had a SOFT SPOT FOR A KID AGAIN AND DID SOMETHING HE SHOULDN'T AGAIN AND TOLD HIM AND NOW PEOPLE ARE GONNA DIE AGAIN BECAUSE HE MESSED WITH THE MULTIVERSE AGAIN FUCK-

Like...yeah- he snapped. A normal person would snap. I've snapped for way less and a lot of other people have.

Granted, we don't go mauling children.

I don't know, I just feel like he's an incredibly layered character.

Because when he's ranting and screaming at Gwen like an irritated school teacher we're already like 'oh fuck you dude but also fuck you ;)'

so when he's right there doing things like this - we don't see it. The same way we don't see Hobie's stealing - because we think we have him figured out.

We don't see Miguel's tenderness.

Because we assume we know who he is - he's cold and aggressive and rude and hates Miles,

but like...is he really?

Miles is getting upset - and the whole conversation leading up to it Miguel has talked to him from a far, hands when Miles can see them. He's not trying to stand over him, or intimidate him. Miguel knows he's scary. He knows how to be scary.

He isn't trying to scare Miles. The exact opposite. He's trying to comfort him.

And when Miles starts lashing out - Miguel is genuinely surprised. That isn't the look of someone who THINKS he's about to hurt this kid.

He's telling Miles, hands up "Hey, sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you." He immediately lets go, backs up.

I just---- FUCK, PEOPLE THE MAN IS STANDING RIGHT THERE THATS MILD MIGUEL LOOK AT HIM

If you really really think Miguel is naturally aggressive, or angry, or cold -

If you write him that way -

I ask that you rewatch the leading up to Miles' escape. Look at his body language. Watch him, and look at his face. That's all I ask.

I just kjsjrghjkSIGHIDDGU I CAN'T STAND FOR THIS INJUSTICE AND EMOTIONAL ILLITERACY

HES NOT A GOOD GUY BUT LIKE....HE'S ... THE ONE YALL ARE SERVING...COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MAN.

He's SOFT. The same way he caved for Gwen after a little pushing. He caved for Miles after a little pushing. That's why he told him two days. SOFT

MILD MIGUEL, SOFT MIGUEL, WANTS TO DO THE HARD THING BUT FUCK HE CAN'T DO IT MIGUEL, HAS TO STAND COMPLETELY STILL AND UNMOVING TO NOT CAVE TO MAYDAY MIGUEL, MIGUEL WHO LOVES PEOPLE BUT KEEPS HIS DISTANCE AND SHUTS HIS MOUTH BECAUSE PEOPLE GET HURT MIGUEL MIGUEL MIGUEL

I'm going to go Miguel Mode.

If understanding Hobie was a house, the fandom is standing out on the road.

If understanding Miguel was a house, the people aren't even in the same neighborhood. We're in the next state over. Other side of the globe. Off base by like 12 zipcodes and 4 times zones

Mild Miguel. Please tell me you're seeing this.

Am I crazy for thinking that the slip up - of telling Miles two days - wasn't out of stupidity but PITY? SYMPATHY?

Because Miguel thinks getting to spend two whole days with some you'll lose is a BLESSING to him - not a curse.

Even though to ANY non-traumatized person - it would be a curse.

...... yo

Miguel stepped into Gabriellas life because he didn't want her to lose a father. He KNOWS losing a father hurts.

So when Miles is there in front of him, talking about not wanting to lose his father - Miguel KNOWS how he feels. Gabby didn't want to lose her dad either.

Miguel UNDERSTANDS. He's a FATHER -

HE KNOWS HE'S BEING THE BAD GUY HE KNOWS ITS WRONG NOT TO STEP IN THATS WHY HE STEPPED IN FOR GABRIELLA IN THE FIRST PLACE THIS ISN'T THE PERSON HE WANTS TO BE OR THOUGHT HE'D BECOME YOU PEOPLE ARE MEAN AND HORNY -

I- I can't even i'm sorry I -

I have a longer post about this in the works like breaking down all of his body language from his moments with MJ and Hobie and like teverything

but ITS NOT EVEN LIKE I THINK HE'S RIGHT I JUST CANT STAND PEOPLE BEING THIS WRONG ABOUT IT I CANT

If you see him as aggressive or cold this post isn't meant to be an attack. I am just down bad for Mild Miguel and I'm going delirious with hunger and starvation for him

#Justice4MildMiguel Maybe I'm huffing copium but also i know im fucking not he's RIGHT THERE

[And if you hate Miguel like hate hate him Moche says dishonor on you dishonor on your cow dishonor your family and your land in the name of Aia Paec Almighty]

If you made it this far....Imsorry you had to see me that way I don't know what came over me here's a picture of Hobie to help me calm down.

(aka Hobie judging the fuck outta me in my head)

I need a glass of water. Bye.

[opal-kitty333]

So, I like Horror Sans, and being a nerd, I've been thinking about him a lot during my recovery with brain damage. A lot of people treat his wounds like brain damage, giving him memory problems, chronic headaches/migraines, speaking difficulties, fugue states, just issues collecting his thoughts. All understandable and reasonable symptoms, but there's something about just what truly horrific, completely life altering, brain damage to such an extent can do to a person that hasn't been explored very much. Yes, he doesn’t technically have a brain, but considering someone with head trauma like him would be in a comatose like start for weeks to a month, we can choke up him taking that hit like he did and being able to walk and talk to that. Plus, we can take inspiration from real injury and science and have wiggle room for it to not be 100% accurate. Anyway-

This is Phineas Gage.

It is one of the earliest extreme cases of brain damage where the patient survived while psychology as a scientific practice was getting on it's feet. If you've taken a psychology class, you've heard of him. He was a railroad worker foreman who had a rod blown through his skull in an accident, destroy most of his frontal lobe.

If you don’t know what the frontal lobe is it's where your ability to reason and make decisions, the ability to control your muscles voluntarily, and your ability to process knew information and recall old information. It's well known for being the part of your brain that inputs logic, the part gives you the ability to remember what happened last time you picked a fight with someone, so instead you choose to walk away despite how much your want to punch them for being a prick.

As I stated before, this man was a foreman, well known for keeping a level head, being responsible, and hard working. After the injury, that completely changed. Everyone agreed he was barely recognizable as himself. He was impulsive, prone to extreme mood swings, impatient, making massive plans only to almost immediately abandon them, and generally seemed to have no control over his desires or ability to distinguish between a want or a need.

Now, let's look at Horror.

I'd say it's safe to say his frontal lobe but also part of his parietal lobe would be utterly fucked. Your parietal lobe controls your ability to process sensory information (mostly touch) and to understand not only where you and your body is, but to process the world around you. You see a massive enough tent, some clowns running around, the right music, and your parietal lobe is what does the work to label that as a circus.

To have these two structures damaged, or the closest equivalent in a monster, would radically alter Sans' personality, his ability to move, his understanding of the context around him, and connect with others.

He'd become rather self centered on his own desires and beliefs, struggling to even have the patients let alone the want to give other people the time of day. His actions would be impulsive, made on his emotions in the present moment and with little concerns other than the immediate consequences. He'd be prone to loud outbursts, not just rage, but any other emotions like sadness or glee with little ability to realize how he's acting may be overblown or inappropriate. Not only could his ability to put his thoughts into words be a struggle, but his ability to say those words could be affected as well. He'd be very present focused, with pass relations or responsibility mattering little as he keeps marching to the beat of his own drum.

That is, if he could march. He'd not only struggle to know where his limbs are or what he's touching, but his sense of balance would be awful. He'd likely have a constant wobble, having to go slowly and potentially hold onto or lean on things if he wanted to move quickly. God forbid how much he'd bump into furniture or trip and struggle actually grab onto something to catch himself. It's entirely possible he'd have difficulty reading and writing or confusing his left and right regularly. He'd need more time to process a situation and could very easily misidentify what's actually going on could likely lead to him acting even more unpredictable as the world around him is so much more dangerous and he's struggling to fully understand what everyone is doing and trying to keep two steps ahead of everyone around him.

But here's the thing. The brain is also incredibly adaptable in ways your wouldn't believe. Phineas Gage slowly recovered over time. He died twelve years after the incident from epilepsy but over time he slowly regaining his social skills and general functionality. He picked up a job as a stage coach four years after the indecent even. He was never quite the same person he was before, but he wasn't doomed to be what he first was after the indecent.

Imagine what this kind of thing could mean for Sans. Not only would the betrayal cut deep enough and the world falling apart put him through trauma that would shred the soul, but people he trust literally damaged his ability to think logically and control his impulses. Of course he's going to lash out, focus on doing anything he can to survive with little respect for what anyone else thinks. Even forcing his brother to do things and refusing to listen to him unless given no other option. All while he thinks the biggest problems after the indecent is how much his head hurts, how his memory is shot, that it's harder or even down right painful to think, and how he's struggling to cling to his independence while never having the patience or resources to give himself the ability to heal. He doesn't even realize how much he's changed. If you point it out Sans would likely get defensive and aggressive, or brush it off as everyone underground being awful people out to eat each other alive.

But then he gets out to the surface. He gets stable food, a safe place to live. His brother is recovering and as the years pass his mind can finally start pulling itself together and healing, finally. Sans begins to regain his ability to think critically on his own actions and others, his emotional outburst and vindictive behavior start to wind down and fade. He's able to think and start sifting through all the shit he remembers.

The guilt of what he did, the people he hurt for no reason other than pettiness. The stupid decisions he made that hurt himself and/or Papyrus in the long run. All the hindsight he has now. Imagine how much he would bury those memories and thoughts. Justifying everything he could and insisting he had reasons, or that it's just how it was and that everyone was as awful and cruel he was. Or just accepting that what Undyne had done to him and the famine after had ruined him, broken and rotted all the good he had and left him vile and malicious. That he'll never have a chance to truly be who he was before.

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: how to promote self-love going forward

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: message from your secret admirer

masterlist of pap/pac posts

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pile one

you might settle for less because you likely get caught up in the drama and find it fun/addicting in the moment. you pursue goals/ideas with focus, but often lack the confidence to back it up. or you wait too long for others before moving on.

i believe love has taught you that you should never settle too quickly. it is best to date multiple people before starting an exclusive relationship. don't get overwhelmed by relationship drama because it will consume you and ruin your day (but only temporarily because nothing is forever - so why stress?). you know now not to let others stick their nose in your relationships - too many opinions will taint your feelings. the biggest lesson is that you learned to cut off anything that interferes with your desires.

i feel like you are jealous maybe a lot of people around you are coupled and you are alone. be cautious because you don't know when you might ruin your relationships with others just because you feel unhappy with your situation. stop worrying about being judged or how often you are rejected - it doesn't matter you are going to find someone in due time (you are worthy). you are loving, nurturing, and protective.

you can nurture yourself by getting out there. you have been alone and isolated for too long - so get out there. stop refusing to look within for what you truly want. ask for support to get what your truly desire, especially in the social sense.

what i feel you need to hear is that you have a strong energy - you are gifted with the ability to receive what you need most from the universe. don't rush or force things - what is meant for you, will find you. you are passionate, creative, magnetic, and attractive. you are also nurturing and dependable. you are one of the most supportive person in most people's life. you have many things - you attract the world and its gifts to you. you don't settle for less - when something is missing you go looking for it. you follow your heart and instincts; you make room for new things to bring joy/happiness.

pile two

i feel like you struggle with maintaining balance in a connection and that might just be the source of why you settle for less. you get too invested in a connection and then you loose track of who are and what you want and need most in a connection. you often find yourself prioritizing the other person over yourself.

love has taught you that things can change very radically/unexpectedly and cause you to question everything. you have learned that you have to let go of certain aspects in your love life, so that you can make space for new things and even new people can better help you grow and thrive.

i feel like you are sad presently or are in the process of recovering from some sort of emotional pain/disappointment. sorrow doesn't last forever. you are very capable of healing - new experiences await you. not all new experiences are destined for heartbreak - have faith.

you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself to succeed in love and be the perfect partner/person. perfect is impossible - so be generous with yourself because right now you are only burning yourself out. to nurture your wellbeing, you should stop judging your productiveness and stop comparing yourself to others - delete social media and take sometime off where you don't have to do anything at all (no doctor's appointments, grocery shopping, etc.). do what brings you joy and say "no" to everything else.

i feel like you need to hear that you are a patient person who realizes that change doesn't happen overnight. you celebrate the small wins with small cute things (for example, maybe you survived a hard week and you get yourself a cupcake). things are getting better so just acknowledge that they are. you can recognize when things have been blown out of proportion or things are being exaggerate for dramatic effect - you are human bullshit detector which is a rare find. even rarer still you have the ability to find a resolution to any argument. you are presently working on not letting other people's expectations of you throw you off of your path. you can make your own path and you know it. you trust that you are capable of standing independently of others, and you are capable of anything.

pile three

i don't feel like you are the type to settle for less than you are worth - i get the feeling that you are slightly cocky about your situation. you might need to practice being humble in a connection because you can come off as judgy or as though you have a superior attitude. alternatively, you might find yourself in connections with people who are very controlling and you might not recognize that you are in that type of connection until it is too late. it is not your fault that you might have settled for less than your worth in the past - you just found yourself in the wrong place and the wrong time and experienced a toxic relationship.

i feel as though you learned that a partner doesn't need to be flashing or exciting instead they need to be stable, grounded, and trustworthy. you have had the flashy connections in the past and it was not the best. you need something more sensual than passionate. something that grows slowly over time so that it lasts.

your intuition is never wrong about the people with interest in you, so learn to trust yourself. you are very emotionally intelligent, so trust that you have the answers you seek about any connection. trust your gut instead of overthinking and overanalyzing.

cultivate your intuitive powers, so you can manifest your dreams into reality. to nurture yourself i sense that you should reconnect with nature and recharge with the the power of the sun. you should also focus on healing any and all blockages that concern your self-esteem/self-worth.

you might need to hear that you are nurturing and dependable. you are one of the most supportive person other's life. you have many things - you attract the world and it's gifts to you. you realize that things can change very radically/unexpectedly and cause you to question everything. you have learned that you have to let go of certain aspects in your love life so that you can make space for new things and even new people who can help you grow and thrive. you know that heartbreak is temporary and that time heals all wounds. you can heal and grow as soon as you believe that you are worthy and that no one wishes to hurt you or your heart. it's okay to be hurt but you have to release that pain instead of bottling it up so you can recover.

[dollypopup]

Penelope treats Lady Whistledown as an identity

I think this is the reason why i have felt so displeased with it, and why so many people have instead resonated with it. Because Lady Whistledown is arguably the most polarizing aspect of this show, and certainly within Polin as a couple, and I believe it boils down to belief: Are you of the mindset that Lady Whistledown is WHAT Penelope DOES, or is it that Lady Whistledown is WHO Penelope IS?

and in recognizing which side of that line you fall on, I think it gives a lot of clarity as to how you feel about her as a character, and how happy or unhappy you are with the ending of Season 3

If you view Lady Whistledown as who Penelope is, that makes it an intrinsic part of her identity. She is a woman, she is a Lady of the Ton, she is a Featherington, she is straight, she is Lady Whistledown. It forms the fabric of her existence, and as such, to release Lady Whistledown is to give up a part of who she is. In the same way my giving up my love for women as a queer woman would be a denial of who *I* am.

However, if you view Lady Whistledown as what Penelope does, then the idea of her giving it up is considerably less dramatic than that. It does not make up her existence, but is a portion of the embroidery that embellishes her as a person. Losing that thread does not compromise the fabric of you, if we want to keep the metaphor. She is a straight woman, a Lady of the Ton, a Featherington, and she WRITES Lady Whistledown, is much different of an identity breakdown.

And I argue that the show should have treated it as such. For many people, they view Lady Whistledown as a direct correspondence with being a writer, but I don't think it is. I think viewing it just as a career is a bit of a disservice, so bare with the comparisons, but claiming being a teacher as an identity and claiming being a third grade math teacher are two completely different beasts. Because then it behooves the question: who are you if you change a grade level? Are you not still a teacher?

Let's take this a step farther, because creatives often see their art as being an intrinsic part of who they are, and not just a career. I know I do. Being a writer and a musician IS a part of my identity, but being a fantasy or a poetry or a spoken word writer is NOT. Because it becomes stifling and limited. 'I'm an author/writer' is an identity, 'I'm a fantasy author' is a specification. Are you not still a musician if you change from piano to trumpet? Are you not still an author if you change from poetry to short stories?

And I think this is where the real disappointment in Bridgerton for me came in. They put Penelope in a box, and told her there was no room for her outside of the walls they planted. And a box can be a comfort, a house turned home, but it can also be a prison. When Penelope told Colin that she could not compromise who she is, and that he would not understand because he is a man, and thus could be anyone he wanted to be- I had to ask. . .why do we view her as being right, here? Would it not have been considerably more radical and beautiful if she came to the realization that viewing herself as Lady Whistledown strangled her growth and creativity? Lady Delecroix spoke of the joy she received in making beautiful clothes for the ladies of her community, but she did not constrict herself into only finding happiness in making wedding dresses, or lingerie, or pelisses. Why push Penelope into a corner and claim it freedom?

To be an author IS an identity. To be a writer is. I won't deny that. But as Penelope came to the understanding that Lady Whistledown IS her, I wish she also came to the understanding that Lady Whistledown is not the EXTENT of her. In truth, I think Colin was right to ask her to give it up, not only for the lack of safety it provided, but predominately because it is not a place of healing and happiness for her. Lady Whistledown grew from Penelope's feelings of being unheard, and it feels as though the show itself did not listen to her.

If you view Lady Whistledown as WHO Penelope IS, then the idea of compromising with her husband on it is asinine. But if you view Lady Whistledown as an aspect of what Penelope does, Colin's pain and desire to see it go to the wayside make a lot more sense: at no point in their relationship did he ever ask her to stop writing. In fact, Colin *loves* Penelope's writing. He has praised it more directly and openly than anyone else has.

Because he has always loved her letters. Colin knew Penelope was who wrote them, and he spoke of how he looked forward to them, and how well written they are. I think, in part, that made it easier for him to forgive her for having read his journal. She'd been gentle with his writing in the past, and that makes it easier for him to open up to her in that sense, as well.

But Lady Whistledown had been cruel. Call it justified or otherwise, call it true or otherwise, but he never asked for her brutal honesty. No one did. Colin asked for Penelope's empathetic honesty, her clever honesty, her poignant honesty. That article she wrote of him at the start of the season was one even SHE disparaged. Colin was not wrong for telling Penelope that he couldn't accept that she was Lady Whistledown, because to him, it is not her identity. It is her craft, yes, but it is not HER, not to him, not until the end.

The problem with this season's ending is that it lacked nuance. It wanted to wrap up in a neat and tidy bow all the complexities of these characters, and I feel it did them a disservice in doing so. Because you could truly argue that, in a way, Lady Whistledown IS Penelope and is ALSO what Penelope does. But in doing so, you would have to acknowledge that Lady Whistledown is a source of pain and a weapon Penelope has wielded, and that intertwined with her very deeply, and that she has to heal from it. What's so frustrating is that, whilst she puts to bed Lady Whistledown as a name, she does not put to bed the gossip she spreads.

And we as a fandom have seen the negative impacts of gossip in our own communities. Just look at how cruel people have been to the actors of this show through petty drama and gossip. Now consider Penelope as the facilitator of such. Lady Whistledown as an identity then changes to Gossiper as an identity, and then latches onto the truer identity of Writer to grant it legitimacy.

I think what the show has done in having Penelope own up to being Lady Whistledown, and then cling on with an iron fist, is a true disservice to her growth. But it was one of the only ways people could easily forgive her. Because in saying 'This is WHO I am' it is an absolvement: there is no blame in being who are. However, saying 'This is what I've done' ensures there is agency in your actions, and thus blame. The show could not hold Penelope accountable to the pains she has orchestrated, and she HAS orchestrated it, so they had to wave it away. Sure, you can argue that she caused a lot of good, but lying to your friends, airing out their secrets, and trash talking them to your entire community is not a painless action. But if these are byproducts of who you are, there is no justification in feeling that hurt. For example, being upset your partner broke up your marriage is valid! Being upset your partner broke up your marriage because they realized they were attracted to a different gender. . .less so.

Penelope treats Lady Whistledown as an identity, because the show thought that was the only way she could be forgiven. But it isn't. Colin could commit acts that harmed others, apologize for them, and be forgiven. Anthony could commit acts that harmed others, apologize for them, and be forgiven.

But this show, through wanting to appeal to a female gaze, also treats us as lesser than. Penelope fucked up. She says so herself. But when it comes time to change, instead of treating her equally, the show says she does not have to. She does not have agency in her actions. It is simply WHO she is.

And that's just not satisfying to me.

[copperbadge]

I was watching hockey earlier today and it got me wondering what sports are played in Askazer-Shivadlakia. Football & surfing’s been mentioned, what else is played in the country? Does it snow enough in the highlands for there to be any winter sports enthusiasts? What’s the state of women’s professional sports? Does the country compete in anything internationally? The Olympics are awful, but does the Ask send a delegation of athletes anyway?

It's not something I've thought a lot about outside of football, I admit, though thinking about the football program has clarified some aspects of it. Mainly I just am not entirely sure how a lot of sports...work, so I kind of stay hands-off.

Askazer-Shivadlakia has never been a super wealthy country. Jason was a bit of a traditionalist and Michaelis was concerned with modernizing but he wasn't an innovator per se, unless pushed; by the end of his reign the country was reaching a point where it had the kind of money to sustain a university or expand its public services fairly radically, but only just. Gregory is a big part of that because he trained as an economist, and while he's only been king for about two years, he's been working in the administration for much longer. He's been able to institute changes that have led to a comfortable surplus in the budget.

So for example, Michaelis wouldn't let the government fund a professional sports team of any kind because the money it would take was already being spent on the youth sports program. He felt that giving kids the chance to play sport was more important than sustaining a team, and said that their athletes were a gift they gave the world. And now that elite players are returning from playing abroad with money and the intention to spend it on supporting a team, his investment is actually, unexpectedly, paying off. Michaelis just wanted the kids of his country to learn self-discipline and good sportsmanship but in doing so he also ensured that if you leave the Ask to seek your fortune as an athlete, once you've got a fortune, you come back home to spend it. And Gregory's work means the government can help.

Football and F1 racing are the two big passion sports the Shivadh follow, though F1 is a fandom, not a pastime. There's decent surfing but that's more a tourist thing. Definitely there are regions that get cold enough for winter sports, but like surfing most of the ski/board sites are tourist-focused, places that ranch dairy cattle in the summer and then host tourists in the winter when the cows are in the warmer lowland pastures. Undoubtedly there are Shivadh snow sport enthusiasts and the country supports them if they compete internationally (both in terms of cheering them on and financially) but there's no program or deep tradition of it. If I ever actually write about those areas extensively that might change, though.

Women's sport has equal support to men's generally, whatever level that might be -- Askazer-Shivadlakia has always been relatively progressive but when Michaelis was elected, Miranda made it her business to push legislation that explicitly protected things like equal funding for women's sport and education and access to birth control and abortion. (She's also the reason weed is legal and Gerald can get Adderall in Europe, where it's banned in a lot of places; there's something to be said for the scion of old conservative nobility who is simply ready to wreck shit.)

There is no golf. Michaelis detests it personally and there's no room for it anyway. If they ever build Askazarama Amusement Park, they might get a mini-golf course.

I don't really know how the Olympics and other international competitions work. If there are talented athletes who want to compete and seem capable of qualifying, there's state funding for them, but there's no formal program where like, the MPs sit down every two years and pick out the top athletes they want to send. Likely most people interested in elite sport competition have to leave the country to train, and represent other countries as a result -- like Paolo in the football novel, who left when he was a young teen to attend a junior academy in France and entered professional play from there.

Shivadh still feel ownership of them, mind you. For example, Felix (the love interest in the football novel) played on the Italian national team and kicked a winning goal in a World Cup for Italy, but Askazer-Shivadlakia consider that cup theirs. A Shivadh did it, ergo it is a Shivadh victory. If an athlete were to say, represent France in an Olympic decathlon and take the gold, they would consider that to be a gold medal for Askazer-Shivadlakia.

The country is very excited about finally having a football team of their own. Shivadh Royal Football Club could lose every game it ever plays and still nobody would let a word be said against them. Fons-Askaz on match day is just a sea of hideous orange Shivadh RFC jerseys that say NARAN JUICE on the front. (Their major sponsor is local juice box and sports drink maker Naran Juice Box Co.)

[sirenpearldust]

Mating bond - part two

series masterlist ⋆ part one

Pair: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 738

Warnings: Angst

Azriel had consistently felt fatigued, but the last couple of days robbed him of any vitality.

His body and soul were broken.

A numbness and sense of lifelessness dominated his days.

His family immediately noticed his stark decline. He was a shell of himself, empty.

Morrigan and Cassian attempted to coax him into joining them at the pleasure hall. Rhys recognising his exhaustion, granted him a break, urging him to savor some well-deserved vacation time.

Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie extended multiple invitations to their tea time.

They questioned him why he had ceased to train them.

He would ignore everyone.

Immersing himself in work, he sought solace and attempted to drown out his troubles, striving to forget.

He empathised with Lucien’s despair, he felt guilty.

Despite the strained golden bond in his chest, he couldn’t ignore its presence.

Mates had always been a sensitive topic, a distant dream for him, out of reach.

Witnessing his brothers’ happiness with their mates fueled his jealousy.

In his own delusion, he entertained the idea of three sisters for three brothers, boldly proclaiming that the mother had made a mistake in pairing Elain with Lucien.

He wanted to defy fate until the day he’d met her.

On that heart-wrenching day, his shadows were nervous, radically erratic.

In an attempt to clear his mind, he strolled through a park in Velaris, where he spotted a woman playing with a cat.

As she turned, a sudden silence enveloped him, the world pausing, and his heartbeat turning erratic.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, radiating a glow akin to the Sun, utterly ethereal.

He wanted Feyre to paint her, to capture her on canvas, desiring to preserve her image. He longed to keep this moment eternally etched into his mind, and in his room - a cherished memory for him to love and appreciate.

His once erratic shadows now calmed, humming, and began gravitating towards her.

His Wings spread wide in a display for his female.

Azriel found himself rooted in place, overwhelmed by the immense power of the bond. Profound happiness and contentment settled in him as he realised he had finally found her.

Some shadows nudged him, urging him to move closer to her.

She casually swept her hair over her shoulder and he found himself captivated by her.

He observed her carefree and playful demeanour, playing with the cat.

The warmth of her laughter reached him as he drank it all in.

As she turned around and noticed him, her smile faltered and her eyes widened in horror.

Their souls connected, he felt the terror coursing through the bond, awakening, a primal instinct to protect her.

Shadows multiplied, assuming positions to eliminate any perceived threat, only to realise she was afraid of the singer.

Azriel froze.

“No,” she muttered.

“No! No! No! This can’t be,” she cried, sobbing loudly.

Tears fell as she screamed for him to leave her alone.

Shadows flew towards her, flinching at first, at the unfamiliar feeling on her being, she eventually let them comfort her.

They sang to her, soothing and wiping away her tears.

Azriel stood heartbroken, alone, no shadows in sight.

The pain he felt mirrored his childhood - rejection, loneliness and a sense of being unwanted.

He wondered whether she was rejecting him personally or simply harboured fear of Illyrians.

Tucking his wings tightly against his back, he approached her, his voice softened, “I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

As he spoke, she calmed down and he slowly raised his hand, gently, cupping her cheek.

She leaned in, nuzzling into his hand, not disgusted by his scars. His wings enveloped her, providing the shield from the world.

For a fleeting moment he felt a sense of happiness, thinking they had made some progress. Maybe she just really was afraid of Illyrians, not him.

Rubbing her back, pressing her against him he felt content, fulfilled. He breathed her in, wiped her tears and kissed the crown of her head.

Closing his eyes, he sighed in relief, but then she pushed him away.

“ I can’t - I can’t accept this, I can’t accept this bond.”

His stomach turned. He felt desperate, his world crashed.

“What?”

“I have feelings for someone else.”

Taking a step back to avoid making her afraid, he felt a surge of possessiveness, a buried primal instinct awoke.

He asked, voice cold, “Who is he?”

Who dared to have her heart?

Who dared to take her from him?

She took panicked steps back, and before he could reach her, she winnowed away.

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