#they were like what do you call people then?? and i explained we use the one syllable 'o' for any gender

[cargopocketcottagecore]

Right. Had a new experience along these lines today. Short version, it went well eventually and I got thanked. Still fucking sucked.

There's someone very close to me who is cis and straight. I'm their first and major touchstone on anything queer, especially anything trans^.

I was asked about "it/its" pronouns. I explained as best as I could as someone who has acquaintances with a variety of pronouns but only goes by "she/her". Used some examples. Yes, it's another thing to remember about a person. So is their favorite movie. File the info in the same place.

Things got a little heated. I shouldn't have started laughing, but this person had moved on to being legitimately *upset* at the idea of trans folks with non-standard names, like "November" (hello.) or similar. I've known folks named after deities, after seasons, after damn near anything in nature. And that was just in the cis/het community.

I pointed out the proliferation of (hyperbolically) "Keighleigh" because people wanted to be unique. Just with trans folks they were the ones choosing, not their parents. And did this person actually know anyone who used pronouns besides they, she, and he? Well,... this one person for a few weeks. Alright, so they tried something out. Ever try a style and realize it didn't fit? Me too. Anyone else? No? Alright, so you're upset about something that doesn't actually affect you.

I finished by pointing out that remembering someone's pronouns (whatever they are) is part of their identity, something to remember about them. This person fucking *hates* onions, and I said hey, you know how you feel when someone includes onions in a dish in spite of knowing you hate them? Or when someone mistakes your name for the gender that you aren't and gives you the wrong honorific (a thing that happens damn near weekly)? You know how much it feels like you don't matter to them when they do that?

That's how these folks feel. And it's at a societal level. I've seen you tear into someone for purposefully calling me "he". Those folks deserve the same, even if it's not what you're used to. No, not that it isn't normal please. That it's new. That you aren't used to it. Like when we say STI instead of STD, or call an STI test negative instead of clean. You've been worried in the past about those tests coming back negative, you didn't want to deal with the implication of being "dirty" or the like.

I saw them slowly wilt. I'm not saying this to brag about dunking on them. As I said above, they're very close to me, very important to me. What I mean is I saw the bullshit-fueled fire evacuate all at once. They got it. They saw the unnecessary outrage.

Then they apologized asked for a hug, and thanked me several times for the patience and for taking the time to explain it to me.

I feel like I need a fucking nap, but I might also have done a bit of good. And hopefully this person is able to better explain to others why trans people aren't fucking weird.

^- Do they have other trans/queer friends? Yeah, but this person doesn't really discuss those things much. Speculation on why is a fucking case study into conservativism, desperate poverty, generational trauma, possible denied introspection, and reactionary political parents I have neither time nor patience for.

"The trannies should be able to piss in whatever toilet they want and change their bodies however they want. Why is it my business if some chick has a dick or a guy has a pie? I'm not a trannie or a fag so I don't care, just give 'em the medicine they need."

"This is an LGBT safe space. Of COURSE I fully support individuals who identify as transgender and their right to self-determination! I just think that transitioning is a very serious choice and should be heavily regulated. And there could be a lot of harm in exposing cis children to such topics, so we should be really careful about when it is appropriate to mention trans issues or have too much trans visibility."

One of the above statements is Problematic and the other is slightly annoying. If we disagree on which is which then working together for a better future is going to get really fucking difficult.

[elodieunderglass]

Hi! I saw you mention in a post about people being into a thing in a weird way, and you mentioned permaculture. I dont know anything about that, could you elaborate? (serious question, just curious)

(This is in reference to a post that talked about the difficulty of having some interests (like Vikings) that are notorious for being shared with really right-wing people. For example, a tattoo with Norse runes could mean someone is a normal and interesting person who likes history and fantasy fiction, or they could be a vile white supremacist. I added to the post mentioning that permaculture is one of those interests, and that I wasn’t going to talk about it.)

I am not the first or only person to say this about permaculture, but I’ll take a stab at explaining it to an outsider.

What is permaculture? Permaculture is a term coined in 1978 to describe an approach to land management and food production based on how things work in ecosystems, centering the environment, and based on the ethical principles of Earth Care (sustainability, rebuilding of the environment, survival without destruction), People Care (meet people’s needs fairly and simply, build community) and Fair Share (find a balance of consumption, recognise limits around what can be taken from the environment, and share as much as possible.) movements like rewilding, reforestation, self-sufficiency, intentional communities, sustainable food production, regenerative agriculture and so on are all aspects of interest in permaculture.

However, by itself it’s kind of a nebulous term, because it’s applied to everything with a lofty wave of the hand; everything from somebody’s weedy old tomato plants, to a radical commune, can be vaguely described as “permaculture.” It’s possibly most accurate to call it an umbrella term for some loosely related fields, than a political movement or widespread agricultural practice. That’s part of the intention; by coining the term and describing what goes into it, the founders of the philosophy were trying to clarify communications; obviously, forms of permaculture have been practiced historically for all of human history!!! The usefulness of the term and definition is all about clarifying a unified package of philosophies to set against the behemoth of conventional, capitalistic, extractive land-management.

Ok so given that “everyone can do permaculture/ you can do it with your raised beds right now!” there’s a lot of overlap with people interested in individual self-sufficiency, off-grid living, rewilding, etc at home. in terms of online communities those are particularly vulnerable to sharing interests with right-wing people. In particular, isolationists/separatists/sovcits, right-wing preppers, nationalists, and of course, The Fucking Tradwives.

Why? Well, permaculture/self-sufficiency are connected to ideas of alternatives to the current system, and attract people who are interested in that. The most obvious is ecofascism although people are finally more aware of this (sending the ecofash into the coverts of being crypto-ecofash, but whatever, it’s a win that they feel less comfortable.) There may be a distrust of authority/the state which can be quite normal (don’t pledge allegiance to the USA flag!) and can be right-wing (MAGA people storming the capital did so because they claimed to distrust the state.) There may be a distrust of science/medicine, often hand-in-hand with the sort of “back to nature/ the earth is wiser than we are / indigenous practices” rhetoric that sounds quite lofty and righteous, but doesn’t quite explain why you haven’t vaccinated your kids, iykwim? Anything back-to-the-land should be examined carefully, because it CAN be progressive - or white nationalist - and sometimes both. Anything including a withdrawal from society ditto - yes, even if it’s a queer commune of witches growing tomatoes or whatever - because “withdrawing from multicultural/inclusive/tolerant/diverse/public-transport-having cities to a secure place of purity and control” is a necessary pillar of right-wing separatist thought. Anything talking about connection to the land should be considered attentively.

None of those are problematic and most are interests or behaviours that any normal person might have. They have to be considered carefully for context. Often, quite kind people can accidentally repeat unfortunate things, or speak badly.

It also doesn’t mean that all of permaculture is a tar pit - it just happens to overlap at certain points with the right-wing agenda, and often, the left-wing are bad at spotting that. It’s natural to accidentally absorb weird politics without examining them - that’s why propaganda is effective. All of these worries about pipelines/algorithms are based on the fact that that bad politics can form from quite innocuous beliefs. These are just some spaces/words where I’ve noticed it’s worth paying attention.

I’m personally wondering if I’m noticing the use of “indigenous” being slowly pushed into a space that worries me, rather like “traditional, heritage, natural, spiritual” have been? But I have not seen Indigenous people discussing this yet.

Also, other people have written about the tradwives so hopefully you can fold in what you know about that. There are also TERFs in permaculture; my harebrained theory is that radical feminists in general like the idea of having control over the environment, but want it to feel like a wise, sacred feminine thing. I was in some casual Facebook permaculture groups some years ago and the amount of schisms felt entirely like a) eldritch Catholicism or something??? B) fandom drama. There would be incredible stuff happening like the formation of splinter Facebook groups called like “Women In Permaculture 2.3 No TERFs” and “Gender Critical Women in Permaculture 2.3” which were 7 evolutions away from an initial “practicing permaculture” group.

In real life, people are unfortunately weirder and more open about it, but easier to avoid and less insidious. But that’s for another time.

@samwisethewitch has this good post with lots of resources in this space that aren’t pipelines of worrying ideology: https://www.tumblr.com/whovianuncle/773929827585638400 (by looking at the title alone, you can hopefully see some of the reality and scope of the problem enough that it isn’t just Elodie running their mouth!)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hello! i apologize if this a strange question to get but i hope you can shed some light with this! (but its totally alright if not).

speaking as a person in the aro-ace spectrum, i have stumbled on this roadblock in my latest project, romance is a element in multiple character's story, however i have realized i have absolutely no idea how to even begin to to portray it in deep and grounded in reality way.

but i guss the simplest thing to answer would be, how do i figure out what one of my characters would find attractive in a romantic partner? how do i make their slow transition into a romantic relationship not feel out of place or jarring?

again i apologize for this strange question, and how long this question is, hope you have a good day!.

Writing Notes: Romantic Relationships

Stages of Relationship Development. In this study, 10 stages of interaction were found that can help us understand how relationships come together and come apart (Knapp & Vangelisti, 2009).

We should keep the following things in mind about this model of relationship development:

relational partners do not always go through the stages sequentially,

some relationships do not experience all the stages,

we do not always consciously move between stages, and

coming together and coming apart are not inherently good or bad.

Relationships are always changing—they are dynamic.

Although this model has been applied most often to romantic relationships, most relationships follow a similar pattern that may be adapted to a particular context.

COMING TOGETHER PHASE

Stage 1: Initiating

In this stage, when we are attracted to someone, we may signal or invite them to interact with us.

For example, you can do this by asking them to dinner, to dance at a club, or even, “I really liked that movie. What did you think?”

The significance here is in the relational level (how the people feel about each other) rather than the content level (the topic) of the message.

As the poet, Maya Angelou, explains, “Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with shades of deeper meaning.”

The ‘shades of deeper meaning’ are the relational level messages that invite others to continue exploring a possible romantic relationship.

Quite often, we strategize how we might go about inviting people into communication with us so we can explore potential romantic development.

Initiating is influenced by several factors:

If you encounter a stranger, you may say, “Hi, my name’s Rich.”

If you encounter a person you already know, you’ve already gone through this before, so you may just say, “What’s up?”

Time constraints also affect initiation. A quick passing calls for a quick hello, while a scheduled meeting may entail a more formal start.

If you already know the person, the length of time that’s passed since your last encounter will affect your initiation. For example, if you see a friend from high school while home for winter break, you may set aside a long block of time to catch up; however, if you see someone at work that you just spoke to ten minutes earlier, you may skip initiating communication.

The setting also affects how we initiate conversations, as we communicate differently at a crowded bar than we do on an airplane.

Culture can also impact the interaction. Some cultures have different expectations for interactions between people of different ages, sexes, or other situations while some cultures do not have as many expectations.

Even with all this variation, people typically follow their culture’s social scripts or interaction at this stage.

Stage 2: Experimenting

In this stage, we are getting to know the other person to identify compatibility beyond physical attraction.

We share information about ourselves while looking for mutual interests, shared political or religious views, and similarities in family background.

Common dating activities in this stage: going to parties or other publicly structured events, like movies or a concert, that foster interaction and small talk.

Small talk, a hallmark of the experimenting stage, is common among young adults just beginning to explore a new relationship by staying on polite, uncontroversial topics.

Small talk can be annoying sometimes, especially if you feel like you have to do it out of politeness but it serves important functions: creating a communicative entry point that can lead people to uncover topics of conversation that go beyond the surface level, helping us audition someone to see if we’d like to talk to them further, and generally creating a sense of ease and community with others.

If your attempts at information exchange with another person during the experimenting stage are met with silence or hesitation, you may interpret their lack of communication as a sign that you shouldn’t pursue future interaction.

Even though small talk isn’t viewed as very substantive, the authors of this model of relationships point out that most of our relationships do not progress far beyond this point (Knapp & Vangelisti, 2009).

Stage 3: Intensifying

In this stage, we continue to be attracted (mentally, emotionally, and physically) to one another, we begin engaging in intensifying communication. 

This is the happy stage (the “relationship high”) where we cannot bear to be away from the other person. It is here that you might plan all of your free time together, and begin to create a private relational culture.

Going out to parties and socializing with friends takes a back seat to more private activities (e.g., cooking together at home or taking long walks on the beach).

Self-disclosure continues to increase as each person has a strong desire to know and understand the other. In this stage, we tend to idealize one another in that we downplay faults (or don’t see them at all), seeing only the positive qualities of the other person.

Other signs of the intensifying stage can include:

creation of nicknames or inside jokes

increased use of we and our

increased sharing emotionally (e.g., saying “I love you”.)

increased physical intimacy

increased communication about each other’s identities

increased sharing of possessions and personal space (e.g., you have a key to your partner’s apartment)

Stage 4: Integrating

In this stage, identities and personalities are merged, and a sense of interdependence (dependence on each other) develops. 

Verbal and nonverbal signals of the integrating stage are when the social networks of two people merge; those outside the relationship begin to refer to or treat the relationship partners as if they were one person (e.g., always referring to them together—“Let’s invite Olaf and Bettina”); or the relational partners present themselves as one unit (e.g., both signing and sending one holiday card or opening a joint bank account).

Even as two people integrate, they likely maintain some sense of self by spending time with friends and family separately, which helps balance their needs for independence and connection.

They are looking to measure how well their new partner fits into their lives and how other significant relationships (friends and family members) rate or respond to their new love interests.

When the “relational high” begins to wear off, couples begin to have a more realistic perspective of one another and the relationship as a whole.

Here, people may recognize the faults of the other person that they so idealized in the previous stage.

Also, couples must again make decisions about where to go with the relationship—do they stay together and work toward long-term goals, or define it as a short-term relationship?

A couple may be deeply in love and also make the decision to break off the relationship for a multitude of reasons.

Perhaps one person wants to join the Peace Corps after graduation and plans to travel the world, while the other wants to settle down in their hometown.

Their individual needs and goals may not be compatible to sustain a long-term commitment.

Stage 5: Bonding

In this stage, a couple makes the decision to make the relationship a permanent part of their lives.

In this stage, the participants assume they will be in each other’s lives forever and make joint decisions about the future.

While marriage is an obvious sign of commitment it is not the only signifier of this stage. Some may mark their intention of staying together in a commitment ceremony, by registering as domestic partners, or by becoming Facebook official.

Likewise, not all couples planning a future together legally marry. Some may lose economic benefits if they marry, such as the loss of Social Security for seniors or others may oppose the institution (and its inequality) of marriage.

Not only do romantic couples progress through a series of stages of growth, they also experience stages of deterioration.

Deterioration does not necessarily mean that a couple’s relationship will end.

Instead, couples may move back and forth from deterioration stages to growth stages throughout the course of their relationship.

COMING APART PHASE

Stage 6: Differentiating

Individual differences can present a challenge at any given stage in the relational interaction model; however, in the differentiating stage, each partner in the relationship is reasserting their sense of self and trying to discover who they are as part of a couple.

Communicating differences becomes a primary focus.

Differentiating is the reverse of integrating, as we and our reverts back to I and my.

People may try to re-establish some of their life prior to the integrating of the current relationship, including other relationships, hobbies, and interests, or possessions.

For example, Carrie may reclaim friends who became “shared” as she got closer to her partner and their social networks merged by saying, “I’m having my friends over to the apartment and would like to have privacy for the evening.”

Or, she may have liked playing golf on Sundays and abandoned it for Sunday dinners with her new partner and her new family.

Now, she will want to return to what makes her happy.

Individuals in the couple will want to have a sense of self that is independent and not necessarily tied to their partner.

Stage 7: Circumscribing

In this stage, communication decreases and certain areas or subjects become restricted as individuals verbally close themselves off from each other.

Circumscribe means to draw a line around something or put a boundary around it (Oxford English Dictionary Online, 2011).

They may say things like “I don’t want to talk about that anymore” or “You mind your business and I’ll mind mine.”

If one person was more interested in differentiating in the previous stage, or the desire to end the relationship is one-sided, verbal expressions of commitment may go unechoed—for example, when one person’s statement, “I know we’ve had some problems lately, but I still like being with you,” is met with silence.

Passive-aggressive behavior and the demand-withdrawal conflict pattern may occur more frequently at this stage.

Couples often engage in more outward conflict.

Stage 8: Stagnating

During this stage, romantic partners begin to neglect the small details that have always bound them together and their relationship becomes routine.

For example, they may stop cuddling on the couch when they rent a movie and instead sit in opposite chairs.

Taken in isolation, this example does not mean a relationship is in trouble.

However, when intimacy continues to decrease, and the partners feel dissatisfied, this dissatisfaction can lead to worrying about the relationship.

The partners may worry that they do not connect with one another in ways they used to, or that they no longer do fun things together.

When this happens they may begin to imagine their life without the relationship.

Rather than seeing the relationship as a given, the couple may begin to wonder what life would be like not being in the partnership.

They begin to assume that they know their partner and are dissatisfied with them.

Instead of communicating, a person may think, “There’s no need to bring this up again because I know exactly how he’ll react!”

Because of this kind of thinking, communication comes to a standstill.

This stage can be prolonged in some relationships.

Parents and children who are estranged, couples who are separated and awaiting a divorce, or friends who want to end a relationship but don’t know how to do it may have extended periods of stagnation.

Although most people don’t like to linger in this unpleasant stage, some try to avoid potential pain from termination, some hope to rekindle the spark that started the relationship, or even some enjoy leading their relational partner on.

Stage 9: Avoiding

Moving to this stage may be a way to end the awkwardness that comes with stagnation, as people signal that they want to close down the lines of communication.

Communication in the avoiding stage can be very direct—“I don’t want to talk to you anymore”—or more indirect—“I have to meet someone in a little while, so I can’t talk long.”

While physical avoidance such as leaving a room or requesting a schedule change at work may help clearly communicate the desire to terminate the relationship, we don’t always have that option.

In a parent-child relationship, where the child is still dependent on the parent, or in a roommate situation, where a lease agreement prevents leaving, people may engage in cognitive dissociation, which means they mentally shut down and ignore the other person even though they are still physically present.

Stage 10: Terminating

This stage of a relationship is when the relationship is ended.

Termination can occur at any point in the relational development model or follow through the phases of coming together and coming apart.

Termination can result from outside circumstances such as geographic separation or internal factors such as changing values or personalities that lead to a weakening of the bond.

When terminating a relationship, people will often follow a pattern that is typical of their culture.

In mainstream American culture, for example, it is typical for someone to start the formal termination of a relationship with a summary message that recaps the relationship and provides a reason for the termination (e.g., “We’ve had some ups and downs over our three years together, but I’m getting ready to go to college, and I either want to be with someone who is willing to support me, or I want to be free to explore who I am.”).

The summary message may be followed by a distance message that further communicates the relational drift that has occurred (e.g., “We’ve really grown apart over the past year”), which may be followed by a disassociation message that prepares people to be apart by projecting what happens after the relationship ends (e.g., “I know you’ll do fine without me. You can use this time to explore your options and figure out if you want to go to college too, or not.”).

Finally, there is often a message regarding the possibility for future communication in the relationship (e.g., “I think it would be best if we don’t see each other for the first few months, but text me if you want to.”) (Knapp & Vangelisti, 2009).

Love Styles. An individual’s love style is considered to be an attitude and describes how love is perceived (Hendrick & Hendrick, 1988).

Attitudes toward love and perceptions of love may change throughout an individual’s life.

College students may perceive love very differently from their parents or guardians because college students are in a very different stage of life.

College students are living among people their age who are more than likely single or unmarried.

These 2 factors mean that there are more prospects for dating, and this may lead the college student to conclude that dating any number of these prospects is necessary or even perceive that “hooking up” with multiple prospects is acceptable.

In contrast, individuals with children who are financially tied may view romantic relationships as partnerships in which goal achievement (pay off the house, send kids to college, pay off debt, etc.) is as important as romance.

These differences in perceptions of love can be explored through John Lee’s love typology in which he discusses 6 love styles (Lee, 1977):

Eros. Eros is romance and emphasizes love and physical beauty, immediate attraction, emotional intensity, and strong commitment. Eros love involves the early initiation of sexual intimacy and consecutive monogamous relationships.

Storge. Storge love develops slowly out of friendship where stability and psychological closeness are valued along with commitment, which leads to enduring love. Passion and intense emotions are not valued as they are in the eros love style. One of the author’s uncles was in his 60s and had never been married. However, he employed a woman who cooked and cleaned for him for over 20 years. His family was very surprised to receive an announcement that he was marrying the individual who took care of him for so long. The formation of their love is a great example of love that arises slowly out of friendship.

Ludic. Ludic lovers view love as a game, and playing this game with multiple partners is perceived to be acceptable by individuals with this love style. As such, this type of lover believes that deception and manipulation are acceptable. Individuals with this love style have a low tolerance for commitment, jealousy, and strong emotional attachment.

Agape. In contrast, agape love involves altruism, giving, and other-centered love. This love style approaches relationships in a non-demanding style with gentle caring and tolerance for others.

Pragma. Pragma love is known as practical love involving logic and reason. Arranged marriages were often arranged for functional purposes. Kings and Queens of different countries often married to form alliances. This love style may seek out a romantic partner for financial stability, ability to parent, or simple companionship.

Mania. Mania is the final love style characterized by dependence, uncertainty, jealousy, and emotional upheaval. This type of love is insecure and needs constant reassurance.

These love styles should not be considered to be mutually independent.

An individual may approach love from a pragmatic stance and have found love that provides financial stability.

However, they still feel insecure (representative of mania) about whether their romantic partner will remain with them, thus ensuring continued financial stability.

It is important to remember that individuals engage in each of these love styles, and it is simply a matter of how much of each love style a person possesses.

The 5 C's of Healthy Relationships. According to Dan Heller (2020), there are a few clues into what might make a relationship work.

In a research project Heller tackled in 1983 as an undergraduate at UC-Santa Cruz, he found 5 components present in successful relationships.

Heller found that the happiest individuals in his research were those who could identify all 5 of these elements in their romantic relationships.

Communication: Effective communication is vital in any relationship. It involves actively listening to each other, expressing thoughts and feelings honestly and respectfully, and resolving conflicts in a healthy way.

Compatibility: The shared values, interests, and goals that bring people together. While differences can be enriching, having fundamental compatibility in important areas can strengthen a relationship's foundation.

Commitment: A willingness to invest time, effort, and energy into the relationship. It means prioritizing the partnership and working together to overcome challenges. Both partners should be dedicated to making the relationship work and be willing to make compromises when necessary.

Care: Care in a relationship involves showing love, affection, and support for your partner. This can manifest through small gestures of kindness, empathy, and consideration for each other's well-being. It's about being there for your partner in good times and bad.

Compromise: Relationships require compromise from both persons involved. This means finding common ground and making sacrifices to meet each other's needs and desires. Healthy compromise is a collaborative effort that ensures both individuals feel valued and respected.

Elements of Healthy Relationships

Communication. The way you talk with friends or partners is an important part of a relationship. Everyone involved should be able to communicate feelings, opinions, and beliefs. When communicating, consider tone and phrasing. Miscommunication often occurs when individuals choose to text versus talking in person or a phone call. Figuring out the best ways to express your feelings together will help eliminate miscommunication.

Boundaries. Boundaries are physical, emotional, and mental limits or guidelines a person sets for themselves which others need to respect. You and your partners or friends should feel comfortable in the activities you are doing together. All individuals involved should be respectful of boundaries. Whether it’s romantic, sexual, or platonic, consider what you want the relationship to look like and discuss it with the other(s).

Consent. Consent is important in all relationships. Consent is uncoerced permission to interact with the body or the life of another person. Coercion can look like pressure to do something, physical force, bargaining, or someone holding power over another to get what they want. Consent can look like asking about boundaries in relationships, actively listening to responses, and always respecting those boundaries.

Trust. Each person in the relationship should have confidence in one another. If you are questioning whether to trust someone, it may be important to communicate your feelings to them. Consider what makes you not trust someone. Is it something they did, or is it something you’ve experienced in other relationships?

Honesty. Honesty is important for communication. Each person within the relationship or friendship should have the opportunity to express their feelings and concerns. If you don’t feel comfortable being honest with someone, consider why and seek support if needed.

Independence. It’s important to have time to yourself in any relationship. Having opportunities to hang with others or time for self-care is important to maintain a healthy relationship. If you live with your partner(s) or friend(s), set up designated areas within your place where you can spend time alone.

Equality. Each person in the relationship should have an equal say in what’s going on. Listen to each other and respect boundaries.

Support. Each person in the relationship should feel supported. It’s important to have compassion and empathy for one another. In addition to supporting one another, it’s important to recognize your own needs and communicate boundaries around support.

Responsibility. Some days you may find you said something hurtful or made a mistake. Make sure to take responsibility for your actions and do not place the blame on your partner(s) or friend(s). Taking responsibility for your actions will further trust and honesty.

Healthy conflict. You may think conflict is a sign of an unhealthy relationship, but talking about issues or disagreements is normal. You won’t find a person that has the exact same interests, opinions, and beliefs as you; thus, at times disagreements may occur. Communicating your feelings and opinions while being respectful and kind is part of a healthy relationship.

Safety. Safety is the foundation of connection in a relationship. In order to set boundaries, communicate, and have fun, everyone must feel safe. If you do not feel safe to express your feelings, have independence, or anything else on this list, seek support using the resources below.

Fun. In addition to all these components, you should be enjoying the time you spend with others. Again, it’s important that your relationships promote your well-being and do not diminish it.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hi, I don't think this is a strange question, no apologies necessary! There were so many ways I wanted to answer this. For the first question on how to "figure out what one of [your] characters would find attractive in a romantic partner", you may base some of it on Love Styles (+ relevant information in the other studies discussed above).

As for making "their slow transition into a romantic relationship not feel out of place or jarring", the Stages of Relationship Development is one model you can consider for inspiration. Also added some findings on "elements" of romantic/healthy relationships that I thought you may find helpful to incorporate in your story as well. Choose which ones make sense for your characters.

Another way I wanted to answer this was on common love/romance tropes in literature and other media. I find it helpful to learn about different tropes used by other authors when there are topics we want to cover as fiction writers, but have limited knowledge/experience on. But then you could always deviate or subvert those tropes/ideas once your story starts to flow naturally (+ considering your own story angle etc.). As such, here are some links to tropes related to romance that might give you some ideas: 1 2 3 4 5 6 (+ study these tropes in your favourite books/shows etc. to know more how you could also use them in your own writing).

More references:

The Physiology of Love ⚜ The 4 Kinds of Love

Love (according to literature) ⚜ Triangular Theory of Love

John Steinbeck: On Falling in Love

[weemietime]

Not to mention this, but you can plainly see it in Arabic articles on Wikipedia where Holocaust denialism is clear, which means that for anyone who doesn't speak English, the most comprehensive data on the Holocaust that they're liable to even glance at, is nothing more than antisemitic canard.

The word Holocaust is mentioned a grand total of 9 times. The rest of the article focuses on Hitler's family, lmao. There is not even a "Holocaust" section in this article, while there is very clearly one in English.

So yea, you can claim "it just means Palestine will be free," the same way you can claim there's no historical revisionism in major Arabic sources about WW2, even though the word "genocide" is used a grand total of twice and not even in the first paragraph blurb.

Compared to the English article, where it's used 7 times, however during each of those times it is then followed by a very clear and comprehensive explanation into what was actually being done (the mass organized murder of 6 million Jews and who was responsible for it) - again, not present in the Arabic version.

I also feel the need to sidebar that the eleven million figure (Jews and others) is fucking mythological. This number was given as an answer to a question by someone literally just guessing off the top of their head. The correct number is more like THIRTY FIVE MILLION but hey on Holocaust remembrance day we don't need facts fam!

Consider when packaged together by people claiming Israel ought to be eradicated and regurgitating literal al-Husseini rhetoric about Arabizing Israel during his Best Friend meetings with Adolf Hitler, and considering the quote exists in two other forms with the pan-Arab sentiments clearly in tact, don't turn around and bitch that nobody trusts you.

Especially when you fuckers are out there calling for globalized intifada. Instead of being a shill for Husseini, why don't you ever spend any time educating people on the multiple pan-Arab versions of this quote (and those who freely and proudly spew them) and condemning that? Could it be that you actually don't give a shit, mayhaps?

Color me shocked and stunned. By the way, Hamas was doing the same shit in Haifa that you idiots blame Israel for doing despite clear evidence of white phosphorous shells from Hamas, too. None of you fuckers give a shit about civilian casualties, you are just mask-off antisemites.

If this was really about Gaza being free from Israel then maybe you can explain why EVERY version of this quote features the phrase "from the River to the Sea"? From the river to the sea WHAT, exactly? Gaza is not located from the river to the sea, dipshit. It means that from the Mediterranean sea to the Jordan River Jews will be expelled so Arabs can move in.

And ftr, as far as I can tell, a majority of Jewish people would be fine with Arabs moving in to live peacefully alongside them. But as Hamas themselves have told you fucking imbeciles from their inception, right up until 2016 it was fully emblazoned on the Hamas charter itself in fact (that Hamas is not a government for Gaza but rather a tool to exterminate Jews), they do not WANT that.

Maybe instead of noble savage bullshit where poor brown people can do no wrong you can shut the fuck up and actually listen to what they are telling you they are going to do.

For every one Nakba (of which there was a grand total of one and which was reactionary to six Arab countries simultaneously attacking Israel despite most refugees there building in uninhabited completely worthless land which they farmed back to life themselves) there are dozens, hundreds of Farhuds and Hebron massacres and pogroms and expulsions and supercessionist revisionist oppressions.

None of you care that all Jews were expelled from Iraq and Yemen and Afghanistan and Ethiopia and Russia and on and on and on and on and on. Expelled to Israel. Then the leaders say oh death to Israel, tee hee, idk what ur talking about "the Jews who I expelled there will die????" no idea!!!

How about instead of chanting from the river to the sea you chant "Yemen, repatriate your Jewish population at once!" catchier, too. In the year of 2025 (btw a Christian year, after the death of CHRIST but let's just say Before common era yeah it's fine) during literal Holocaust remembrance day you motherfuckers continue to pull this shit.

Sit down and shut the fuck up forever.

Wait why is "from the river to the sea" a genocidal chant??

Simply put, it's being chanted by Hamas supporters, who have made it abundantly clear that they intend to control and ethnically cleanse by means of mass murder the entire region between "the river and the sea".

And the version "From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be free" is the English translation. In the original Arabic... well...

There are two versions:

min il-ṃayye la-l-ṃayye / Falasṭīn ʿarabiyye/من المية للمية / فلسطين عربية,

"from the water to the water / Palestine is Arab"

Which, well, doesn't have much room for non-Arabs, now does it?

And the version

min il-ṃayye la-l-ṃayye / Falasṭīn islāmiyye من المية للمية / فلسطين إسلامية,

"from the water to the water / Palestine is Islamic"

Well, that doesn't leave any room for Jews, now does it?

But yeah, given that the people chanting the slogan in English are doing so in explicit support of Hamas--which has said that they will continue to engage in 7/10-style attacks until they kill all of the Jews, which is not an exaggeration on my part--there is no way to take that statement as anything other than an endorsement of Jewish genocide or ethnic cleansing.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 6 - How to Infiltrate a Terror Cell

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: Violence, sexual remarks/touching, use of weapons, description of injuries, implied torture, blood, death.

AN: This one really got away from me. These mini fics are supposed to be 'short' and easy to write.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

It's the worst idea you’ve ever heard. But here you are nodding at Price while he lays out the plan.

“First things first we need to confirm Konni have Alex. Then we focus on Makarov.” 

“I know one of the guards who works in the prison wing. He’ll be my way in.” You explain.

“Makarov will be harder. He's always surrounded by his best soldiers. I can probably find out what he's doing here but as for getting an audience with him or even getting near him it’s going to be next to impossible.” You explain. Price hums laying back on the sofa.

“Find out why he's here then we get Alex out. Rendezvous with the ULF and make a plan from there.” Price says. 

“As soon as we spring Alex that's it. There's no way I will be getting back in there.” You say raising an eyebrow.

“That's why it's important you get as much Intel before getting him out.” You nod standing up. 

“Here.” Gaz says coming over to you and handing you a USB. You take it raising an eyebrow. 

“Plug it into any computer and it will copy all the files over.” He says, you nod at him, he lingers for longer then he needs to. Maybe he’s warming up to you too. 

“When you find Alex, tell him 141 sent you. He’ll know to trust you.”

“Are you sure?” You ask sceptical. You know if they’ve been trying to get info out of him it’s very unlikely he will trust you, or anyone for that matter of fact. You might have to resort to dragging him out.

“I’m sure.” You sigh looking out the window. The sun is coming up. You should leave sooner rather than later, it’s a few miles back to the border, wait any longer and the story you’ve constructed might not make sense. You go over to pull your jacket on.

“I should get going.” 

“We’ll be waiting at the rendezvous point.” price says. You nod looking round the room. Maybe they won’t wish you luck. Maybe they don’t mind if you die, one less thing for them to worry about.

“Good luck.” Gaz calls. That you didn’t expect. You smile at him. 

...

“You said Farah’s forces where moving north not fucking marines.” You snap at your handler, Ivan. He called for you as soon as you made it into the base. It was early morning, most people had gone to meet Makarov's entourage, apparently, the place was running on a skeleton crew. 

Good, easier for you.

“The packages?” 

“Dead.”

“Shit, they were tech specialists, Al Qatala needed them.” 

“Explains why they were shit lookouts.” You mutter under your breath. The other man in the room catches that and you look over at him. You don’t recognise him, he’s barely said a word since you entered the room. Just looks at you now and then from over his laptop.

“Why did they let you live?” He asks, his accent is thicker, he’s not from round here. Maybe he’s not even Russian at all.

“I patched up one of their injured. They let me live.” 

“Which way did they go?”

“West.” You lie. Both the men look at eachother then back down at the map.

“Sakhra?” Ivan asks.

“Makes sense If they have one injured they’ll want to head to a neutral hospital or a ULF. The Americans have been getting too close to the border for my liking.” The other man says shrugging. 

“How sure are you that they're heading west?” 

“I overheard them talking before they left.” You explain.

“Well, I have to deal with a very angry Al Qatala contact. You better get yourself ready. Makarov will have jobs for you I'm sure.” Ivan says. 

“Wouldn't want to fuck them up.” The other man says.

“What's he doing here? Makarov?” You ask as the Ivan turns away. 

“Not really any of your business but let's just say he's planning a nice surprise for the ULF. And now we have an American who knows all their movements there's no way we miss.” The other man says. 

“Has he talked?” 

“Not yet, but he will. The Butchers on his way. A little gift from Al Qatala.” Ivan says. Shit. You have to move quick if you’re going to get him out here it has to be now. You leave the room, closing the door behind you. Before you head to the prison wing you skip into the handlers office. He never locks it, he's going to regret that. 

You plug the USB into the computer and a loading bar starts. You look round the desk, looking at the papers for anything interesting. Your heart is hammering in your chest, you keep looking up to the door hoping no one will come in.

You look back at the PC, it's only 50% done. You start to look through the drawers for anything, even if it is just to keep you busy. You see plans, plans for some kind of weapon. You take them out, folding them up and shove them into your pocket. 

The transfer is almost done. You hear a door close, you’re holding your breath, your hands run over the papers on the desk. You hear the Ivan's voice 90%. You panic, he’s probably coming to his office, you need to distract him. You go round to the other side of the desk leaning against it. You hear a beep on the computer, the USB must be done, you reach over pulling it out and shoving it in the pocket with the papers. 

You only just manage to compose yourself as he walks in. A smile grows on his face. He walks up to you, his hand resting on your hip.

“You’ve got me in a whole bunch of trouble. Least you could do is make it worth my while.” He says, you can smell the vodka on his breath as he leans in to kiss your neck. You don’t have time for this, one of his hands slips round to grab your ass. It’s like he wants to pick you up and put you on the desk.

“Ivan,” you breath as his hand presses dangerously close to the other back pocket. He pulls his mouth off your neck. “I have stuff to do.” 

“Yeah you do.” He says with that stupid grin on his face before pressing his lips onto you. Normally you wouldn’t mind but you’re about to betray him this feels wrong. You push him off you. He huffs crossing his arms.

“I really have to get ready. Besides, don't you have to prepare for our special VIP?” You say, he tips his head to the side you can tell he’s not happy about this. He steps away walking round to the other side of his desk and you turn with him.

“Fuck Makarov, this whole plan is pointless. The American is not going to talk, he’s rushing into this too quickly.” 

“What does he want?” You ask, maybe now you’re alone he’ll give you some more answers. 

“He wants to take over the northern territories.” 

“Of Urzikstan?” Ivan nods. “He’s crazy, he’ll turn Al Qatala against him.” 

“He wants to use it as a bargaining chip.” he says. 

“Not going to be much bargaining if he’s dead.” You scoff crossing your arms. That explains why he’s so nonchalant about upsetting Al Qatala, when Makarov is done, lost techs will be the least of their worries. 

“On top of that he’s got us chasing some military unit helping Farah.” Your stomach sinks. 

“Military unit?” You ask, swallowing the nerves.

“Yeah 141 or something. Anyway, I’ve had people looking for them for weeks. We don’t even know if they’re still in the country.” He says going to type on his computer. You need to leave. Get Alex and leave.

“Well, if I find them I’ll let you know.” You say heading for the door. He chuckles. 

“Hey.” He calls as you’re about to close the door. “You’ll be back later right? I’ve missed you.” He hasn’t missed you, he’s missed sex. You smile and nod at him. 

…

“You look like shit.” Caleb says offering you the last of his cigarette. You take it sucking a deep breath in and letting it calm you. It didn’t take you long to walk over to the prison building, of course Caleb was already waiting for you, he waved at you when he saw you walk through the front gate.

“Heard you fucked your job.” He chuckles.

“Hear a lot with those massive ears of yours.” You say reaching up to flick him. He bats your hand away. “Thought you would be out with the others going to pick up Makarov?” 

“Fuck that.” He laughs, you smile, throwing the butt on the floor and stamping it out. You follow him back into the prison wing. It’s not really a prison, this whole building used to be a school or something, it’s been abandoned for years. Well until Konni and Makarov took it over. 

“Heard you’ve got an American here?” You ask looking round at the shabby built cells. 

“Yeah.” He says pointing down the hall. There are at least two other guards. Hopefully you can get Caleb to turn a blind eye, then you only need to worry about them. And the guards on the gate, and the extra security that will come after you as soon as they know there’s been a break out. 

“Heard The Butchers coming to question him.” 

“Oof, unlucky guy.” He winces. You walk down a different hall with him. There are only a few people in the makeshift cells, most of them are converted offices. 

“Anyway, how did you manage to mess up your job?”

“Marines came in and caught me off guard. No one warned me there were Americans around.” You say sticking to the made up story. 

“At least you’ve been out doing something. Ivan has the whole place on edge with this Makarov visit. Maybe it’s good you came back early. Calm him down.” He jokes nudging you. You roll your eyes. Nudging him back. It’s just sex, mindless stupid sex. And yeah maybe Ivan looks away when you fuck up from time to time, like today. 

“What did he get bored of the cook house girl?” You tease back, Caleb laughs. You walk on a little further mustering up the confidence to ask him. You have to be careful, out of anyone you want Caleb to get hurt the least. You’re going to miss your chats with him. 

“I need a favor.” You say stopping him and gripping his arm. He frowns at you, he seems to sense the unease in your voice looking around before leaning in closer to you. 

“The American. I need to talk to him. 30 seconds alone.” You say trying your best not to sound nervous. 

“Are you crazy? Ivan’s got that shit locked down. No one is allowed to look in his direction let alone talk to him.” Caleb whispers gripping your arm. 

“I’ll deal with Ivan.” You say. “You owe me, remember?” He shakes his head. 

“Not this, they’ll kill me if anything happens to him.” 

“You owe me.” You say again this time gritting your teeth, you don’t exactly have time to negotiate. He sighs looking around. 

“30 seconds. No more.” He says. You smile reaching up and kissing his cheek. 

“Thank you.” He shakes his head and calls the other guards over. You move past them pretending to head for the exit before turning down the hall where Caleb pointed earlier. You take the key off the wall opening the door. There’s a man sitting on the bed. He springs up as soon as you step in.

“I was sent by 141. Are you Alex?” You ask, holding your arms out. He nods, frowning, as well as he can, his head is bruised and one of his eyes is swollen. The few clothes they’ve left him in are drenched through and he’s holding his other arm like it’s broken. “I’m here to get you out. I don’t have time to explain, you just need to trust me.” You say leaving the room. He hesitates a second then follows you. You go over to the guards table and pick up a weapon, loading it and putting another mag in your pocket. 

“Can you walk?” You ask, trying to keep an eye on the door Caleb would have taken the guards through. As soon as they see you they’ll open fire and sound the alarm. You need to leave. You start to head towards the door, clicking the safety off your gun. You quickly look behind you to make sure Alex is following, he is but too slow for your liking. 

Before you can tell him to hurry the door at the end of the room opens. A guard looks at you, his eyes then flick to Alex. You don’t have time to think you bring the weapon up and shoot him. 

Move! Your brain screams. The shot will have alerted people. Alex makes it over you and you practically drag him through the door out into the courtyard. A shot rings out and you pull him round the side of a building. You look back to see Caleb shouting orders as more guards run round. 

You look over at the entrance of the base. It’s close but you have to get over the wall, which means you’re going to have to fight. 

“We’re going to have to hop that wall. Think you can manage that?” You ask as you turn to Alex. He nods and opens his mouth but before he has a chance to say anything more shots ring out hitting the wall where you’re hiding. 

It’s now or never. You jump out from behind the building and sprint across to the wall. You hear Caleb call your name as you throw yourself over the wall rolling down the embankment. You hear Alex groan out in pain, he’s definitely got something broken. You get to your knees watching him writhe in pain. You don’t have time for this. Alarms ring out. Now you really don’t have time for this. You look over to the entrance. The gates are being locked. Great now you’re going to need to get keys. 

At least that's easy to do if the person is dead. You reach over gripping Alex’s arm pulling him to his feet. He cries out in pain, you don’t have time to worry about it as more shots ring out. You can see Caleb running across towards you, you pull Alex over the drain and up the opposite embankment. You let go of his arm to open fire on the guards in front of you. There’s only two of them, at the gate. 

You take cover behind the inspection booth, Alex kneels down beside you. You hand him your gun.

“I need to get a key, cover me.” You say. You don’t know if you trust him, or if he’ll even be a good shot but he’s better than nothing. He nods, you crawl out over to one of the bodies. Shots ring out behind you. Well he’s not killed you yet. You fumble around the guards belt and pockets. Nothing.

“Shit!” you call crawling over to the other guard out in the open. More shots ring out, from in front and behind you. Alex must have picked up a weapon off the guard. You find the ring of keys clipped on the guards belt. Your hands are shaking from adrenaline as you try to unhook them.

“Watch out!” Alex shouts. You don’t get time to look up before someone kicks you in the back. You look over at Alex fumbling with a mag. A shot rings out and he ducks behind the booth just in time. 

“Fuck.” You say pulling yourself to your feet. You’re surprised the person lets you get up. Before you can turn though a pain radiates in your side.

It’s worse than anything you’ve ever felt before. Have you been shot? When you finish turning you see a guard. Before you have time to react his head explodes into and he lands beside you. You look over at Alex, he’s still fumbling with the clip. 

You turn to see Caleb bringing his weapon down to his side, he looks sad, he’s your friend and you're betraying him. You reach down to touch where the pain is. Your head is swimming, your hands feel blood, then cold metal. There’s a knife, you’ve been stabbed.

“No!” you yell at Alex as he comes back from round the booth, his weapon drawn. Caleb holds up the keys, you smile at him. He pushes past you, opening the gate. You stumble over, each step sending shooting pains through your body.  

“You owe me!” Caleb says as he throws his arm around you. You lean up against him as he half drags you into the tree line.

“On the other side of the tree line. There’s a truck.” You say switching to English. 

“Rescue?” Caleb asks in English, you smile crying out in pain as you step over a fallen tree. 

“That's where 141 are waiting.” You say, it’s getting harder to focus, at least the sound of the alarm from the base isn’t ringing in your ears. 

“How do you know 141?” Alex asks as he watches round you, his weapon still drawn.

“It’s a long story.” You say breathless. You want to pull the knife out, it hurts so much. You know you shouldn't though. Not until you have something to pack the wound with. 

“Just keep going.” Caleb says, hitching you up tighter to him as you start to stumble. You can barely see what’s happening, the forest becoming a mix of blurry greens and browns. It feels like you’ve been walking for miles when you hear the engine of a truck. It makes your adrenaline spike, giving you a brief moment of clarity as you make it to the edge of the tree line.

“It’s them!” You hear the familiar Scottish accent. The sun blinds you as you make it through the trees. 

“Shit, what happened?” You hear someone ask, there are more hands on you now. You’re picked up.

“Who are you?” A gun clicks.

“Caleb, friend.” Is all you manage to say. You hear whoever is holding you curse under his breath. You’re pulled into the back of the truck on the floor. It makes you cry out again, your hand going to your wound. There’s banging and clattering. You don't have time to question how they got their hands on an military truck.

“Hey, lass, c’mon stay with us we’ll get you sorted.” It’s Soap. You look out through the back of the truck, you can see Price with his hand on Alex’s shoulder, Gaz taking the weapon out Caleb's hand. Then you see it in the distance, a truck. 

Price notices it too. He helps Alex get in the truck next to you, closing the back.

“Ghost, let's move!” He shouts. Gaz has vanished, you hear a door slam. Price pulls himself in the truck holding his arm out for Caleb. It doesn’t matter though.

Shots ring out, they hit the truck, you see Price duck, then the flash of blood. Caleb's hit, his body goes limp and falls to the floor as the truck pulls away. 

You’re not sure what happens next. Your scream fills the air as you watch Caleb's body get smaller covered in the dirt kicked up by the truck. Someone is pressing your body down. Suddenly Price is leaning over you, more shots ring out hitting the truck. You feel tears stream down your face. You got him killed, the only person you didn’t want to get hurt. 

“Alex! Cover fire!” You watch as Price hands him an AR, they both move down to the end of the truck returning fire. Your body is being flung from side to side as the truck drives out the forest and onto a road. 

You don’t care what happens now, you don’t care if you die. You did your job, you got Alex out. You close your eyes letting out a breath. 

“No, no, no! Eyes open c’mon!” It’s Soap again. Your eyes snap open as he shakes you. The gunfire dies down, maybe you’ve lost them. Maybe they won’t follow you out on a main road.

“Caleb.” You say. “His name was Caleb.” Soap frowns for a second then lets out a sigh. 

“Johnny.” He says. 

“Nice to meet you Johnny.” You smile. He smiles back. You can’t stay awake anymore. Your head is spinning, black spots fade into your vision. He calls out to you, shaking you but you just can’t stay awake. Your last thought is of Caleb as everything goes black. 

next

Banners by plum98

[prlssprfctn]

"Who Is Afraid of Little Old Me?" is so Jason Todd core, and you are READY for this conversation.

'The scandal was contained

The bullet had just grazed

At all costs, keep your good name

You don't get to tell me you feel bad'

You tell me it is not about that one time Batman had finally faced Red Hood, with Joker being between them - as a reminder and a choice - ended up throwing a batarang in his neck (while Jason barely hurt him) and never told anyone else about this?

Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke

Then we could all just laugh until I cry

And you tell me this is not about Jason's death? About his last minutes with Joker, about how they forever imprinted in the core of his memory, to the point that sometimes he laughs at them instinctively, until the realization doesn't kick in?

So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street

Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream

"Who's afraid of little old me?"

I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean

"Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth"

Who's afraid of little old me?

Well, you should be

Is it not Red Hood who is back again, trying to return to Manor to remind others what happened to him?

So tell me everything is not about me

But what if it is?

Then say they didn't do it to hurt me

But what if they did?

… I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me

You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

Had Bruce and Dick ever wanted to hurt Jason, both in the past and in the present? No. Did it still happen? Is Jason still the one to live with these memories, unable to explain how it makes him feel? Yes.

So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs

I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

That I'll sue you if you step on my lawn

That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong

And if I say it is about Jason and all the kids that came after him that doesn't fully know who he is, but heard stories of Red Hood and violent Robin? They don't know a little boy who thought Robin gave him magic, the boy that died a hero — but they know Red Hood. And they heard of what a doomed, angry Robin he used to be.

And you hurt me

And you taught me

… You caged me and then you called me crazy

I am what I am 'cause you trained me

What is it if not Jason's POV towards Bruce? He is the crazy one now, a killer, a wrong one (not to mention these comics, where they actually threaten to send him to Arkham or Blackgate), but he is his father. His mentor. Still.

And some additional parts I want to add, because I think that they speak volumes too:

- "But my bare hands paved their paths, you don't get to tell me about sad"? I can't fully explain to you what I mean by putting this quote, but it is about Jason, crawling out from his grave (literally) and it is about everyone who stepped on the Robin path after. It is about his family making his death and grief about themselves at some point, leaving him nothing;

- "If you wanted me dead, you should've just said. Nothing makes me feel more alive" just one sentence — it is Jason about the batarang incident;

- A little detail, but I heard a lot of people complaining after the song's release that "Who is afraid of little old me?!" parts were at first loud, and they expected it to get to the full scream, but only ever got it becoming weaker, almost a whisper-like. And it is so Jason, too. Because he returns to scream, to yell, and he does at first. Until his anger washes out under disappointment and realization that he will never be chosen in a way he chooses people. And he doesn't scream anymore. Just whispers.

[pendingnomdeplume]

the undone and the divine (bedroom hymns) pairing: hozier x fem!reader rating: explicit (18+) tags: Praise Kink, Dirty Talk (sort of), PIV Sex words: 5.2k

[Read it on AO3]

title from Bedroom Hymns by Florence + the Machine divider by: sylusz

Things are not going well. 

Truthfully, things haven’t been going well for a while, but you’ve tried to ignore it, tried to manifest your way into reducing stress with vitamins, mindfulness, and a fair bit of recreational drug use. The ashwagandha helps (taken at the behest of Andrew who raves about the benefits of mushroom-based drinks and supplements), but it’s a bandage slapped over the real problem: Work is destroying you, mind, body, and soul.

And, sure, okay, maybe you don’t need to be pulling 60-hour work weeks for an incompetent boss who dumps a majority of his tasks onto you. Maybe you don’t need to bring your computer home every weekend “just in case.” But, if you don’t get the work done, who will?

“Your boss?” Andrew answers when you verbalize the question, one eyebrow raised as though it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

You roll your eyes and reply with a snort, “Yeah, that’ll definitely happen.” 

A songbird's melody echoes down the chimney as you sit nestled into his side, his arm thrown around you lazily as you cradle a cup of coffee in your hands. Your laptop bag sits on a chair in the corner of the room, and you stare at it while anxiety brews in your gut. The compulsion to check your email has your fingers itching, but Andrew will protest if you try to peel away from him during this quiet morning together. 

“You work too hard, my love,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

With another roll of your eyes, you reply, “That’s rich coming from you of all people.”

He scoffs but says nothing. 

Andrew knows you’re right, knows that he can’t argue against you when he’s spent the majority of the last two years touring non-stop. It’s been a point of contention before, mostly during his breaks that leave you a mere 2 weeks together before he’s off again. 

Now, he’s home for the foreseeable future (or, until the summer festivals start), and he’s starting to suffer the same frustrations of not having you around, nor having your attention on days where you shouldn’t be thinking about work at all. Bad habits die hard, and you’ve gotten so used to his absence that work eventually became the solution to the void of loneliness within you. 

After all, it’s hard to feel sad when you don’t have the time or energy to feel anything but anxiety.

A vibrating sound emanates from your laptop bag. It’s your work phone that Andrew made you shove away before sitting with you this morning. The sound of it makes you tense, your body ready to spring forward and retrieve it, but Andrew keeps a tight grip on you.

“No,” he scolds like one might chastise a puppy. “Let it go.”

Anxiety prickles along your skin. “Baby, I have to check,” you say as you pull away from him and set your mug down on the table. He doesn’t try to stop you this time, his arm thumping on the couch cushion as you move towards your bag. 

There’s a missed call from your boss, followed by an email chain forwarded to you with a message from him: 

What happened here? How did the system fail in the first place? Why are we not catching these kinds of errors sooner? 

It’s a thread that you were looped into a few days ago—something about a payroll error that left you testing and re-testing the system until well into the evening, hours after your scheduled end time. Your boss was copied on every email explaining the situation, and you made sure to copy him on your replies indicating that the issue was handled so he didn’t have to worry. 

You sigh loudly as you stare up at the ceiling. “God, I’m so fucking over this.” 

“What happened?” Andrew asks tentatively as you turn back around to look at him. 

You shrug, face screwed up in a sardonic smile as you shrug. “The amount of work that I do for this motherfucker, and he can’t even read a fucking email thread. The answers are right there, Gabriel. Everything you just fucking asked me is right there.” 

With another sigh, you collapse back onto the couch with your arms folded over your chest. 

“But he’s fucking right! I should’ve caught this shit earlier! If I had then—”

Andrew interrupts, “Lives were lost, yeah?” It’s snarky and fractious, and you feel irritation build like a heat in your chest. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot that your company delivers fucking organs for immediate, dire transplants. I mean, do you hear yourself right now?”

You glare at him. “Andrew, do not.”

He rolls his eyes. “Right, yeah, of course. I forgot how much Gabriel’s opinion matters more than your partner’s concerns.” 

You close your eyes and inhale deeply through your nose, trying to remember the 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 sequence for mindfulness. Was it five things you can touch or that you can see? 

“Baby, I love you so much, and I appreciate your concern. But I’m the fucking idiot who didn’t catch a simple error, and now my boss thinks I’m a dipshit who can’t do their job right. God, it always feels like I’m fucking something up. Why can’t I just get this shit right for once in my life?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Andrew throws his hands up in the air with a scoff. “I am so tired of this.” 

With a frown, you snap back, “What? What are you so tired of, Andrew?”

“I’m tired of your insistence that you’re stupid, or that you can’t do your job, or that you’re always fucking things up despite the fact that you seem to be the sole reason your office functions at all. And you’re not just doing your job, you’re doing the job of about three people without the acknowledgement or pay to back it up.

“It’s not your fault that your boss can’t read a fucking email thread. And, how would you know to look for a problem when it hadn’t even occurred yet? Are you supposed to be fucking psychic?

“I mean, fuck’s sake, it’s obvious how absolutely miserable you are doing this. It’s obvious how little these people care about you, not because you’re ‘bad at your job,’ but because they see the work you do and expect more. Your only reward for being good at what you do seems to be receiving even more work.”

You scoff a hollow laugh. “Throwing stones in glass houses, aren’t ya, Andrew?”

“At least I enjoy what I do. The miserable part is having to be away from you.”

Oh. 

It’s like a shot straight to your heart. Guilt churns in your stomach as you look away from him. 

“I…”

A part of you wants to argue that he chooses to do those long tours, but you know that’s not entirely true. It’s more at the behest of the label, trying to parade him out as much as possible despite his resistance to such things. Their reluctant show pony. It’s why he has any social media at all, though he has nothing to do with it any longer. 

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, your throat tightening as you try to swallow down your emotions. But one sniffle has him quickly wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You turn your face into his chest as a few hot tears roll down your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his lithe frame as he presses a kiss to your head.

“Baby,” he murmurs against your hair. “I hate seeing you so miserable. I know we’ve talked about it before, but please consider my offer.”

“Andrew—”

“Please, just think about it.”

The offer has been on the table since last year when he came home for a break and found you sobbing in a darkened room with only the glow of your laptop illuminating your curled up form. Andrew had laid it out for you plainly: Quit your job and let him support you. He’d said it so easily, and you knew that he meant it, that he was more than capable of supporting the both of you given his income.

The thought has always made you uncomfortable. It seems unfair not to pull any kind of income, not to pay your own way in life with your own means. On top of that, what are you to do with your time if you’re not working? The concept of “free time” makes you anxious. Your mind and your hands need to stay busy; an unstructured day with hours of daylight and no plan sounds like a genuine nightmare.

But, could boredom and lack of direction be any worse than this? God knows the amount of cortisol coursing through your system has shaved a few years off of your lifespan, and that’s not including the cigarettes you sneak every now and again, nor the alcohol consumed when you finally have a chance to breathe and let loose. 

You should be ecstatic that Andrew is home, that you finally get to spend more time together now that his obligations are far fewer and farther in between. Except, you haven’t spent much time together at all with your overtime hours. 

It’s obvious that this situation is affecting him as well. You hate seeing him hurt, and it makes sense that he’d feel the same about you. If your stress is causing him stress, then you’ve effectively created an ouroboros of misery based entirely around your work. 

Your phone buzzes again with Gabriel’s name at the top, and a wave of nausea overcomes you as your throat tightens in the threat of another sob. A soothing hand immediately rubs at your back, and you’re hit with the realization that you’ve been in this position before. 

It’s less deja vu and more a bleak understanding that this isn’t the first, second, or third time you’ve sat on this specific couch with Andrew holding you and talking you through another job-related meltdown. 

The thought of this cycle repeating ad nauseam for the rest of your life makes you want to cry.

How long can he stand you complaining about unnecessary suffering before he decides he’s had enough? Andrew’s offer sits on the table collecting cobwebs, and you continuously deny it, for what? For another quarter of feeling insignificant and unappreciated despite carrying the weight of the workplace squarely on your shoulders? For another day of your boss taking the credit for your hard work? How many more thankless years are you willing to put up with before you finally snap? 

And, why should you wait until you’re ready to snap at all? Why must you reach the extremes of suffering before you’re willing to do anything about it? Why do you continue to bear the cross for a company that can and will discard you the moment you are no longer useful for their bottom line?

“Baby,” you say quietly as you pull back to look up at him. “D’you think we can go to the post office today?” 

Andrew frowns, confused. “I mean, sure. But…why?”

“I’ve got some things to send back to London.”

You shut down your work phone completely and move to shove it into your laptop bag. Anger begins to roil as you stomp around now in search of the stupid laptop charger, the stupid mouse, the stupid, cheap headset they provided to you despite making money hand over fist every quarter. 

Still in your pajamas with a hoodie thrown over, you grab your car keys and beckon Andrew to follow. On the way, you ask him to find your personal phone in your bag and pull up Gabriel’s contact information. There are missed calls there, too, including a voicemail that you instruct Andrew to delete immediately. 

As you putter along a backroad heading towards the town proper, you ask, “Can you hit ‘call’ and put it on speaker, please?”

Andrew does so with a look of pure glee as he holds the phone closer to you. 

“Jesus Christ, finally. Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling you all morning about this payroll bullshit, and you haven’t—”

With a smile, you cut him off. “Hey, Gabriel, so sorry about that. The payroll thing is all squared and resolved. In fact, you would know that if you read a single fucking email in your entire life.” 

Andrew grins as your boss splutters on the other end. 

“Anyway, I’m calling to let you know that I quit. Effective immediately.”

Gabriel chokes out, “What? But you can’t just—” 

“I sure can! Don’t worry, HR will be getting an official notice shortly.”

He bites back, “This is a breach of your contract, you know. We explicitly outlined a month’s time frame if you’re to leave. You won’t get paid through the rest of your contracted time if you leave.” 

You roll your eyes. “Right. I’m well aware. Really, I just wanted to make sure to let you know that all of my tech and equipment will be going back to the main London office. Thought I’d give you a heads up first, though. Y’know, as a courtesy.” 

“As a courtesy? I—you—?! Just fucking bring it here!”

You pretend to think. “See, here’s the thing: I think IT should have this handed to them directly. All that PII, customer data, and all of those reports I built out over the last few years? And all of those analytics that are saved locally to my computer’s hard drive? Figured it’s best to let them deal with wiping it.”

“That’s—it’s—-now, let’s not do anything too hasty here. We can talk this out, right—? If you just send me copies of—”

Eyes still on the road, you reach over and hit the ‘end call’ button with a smug smile.

Andrew scoffs and shakes his head, laughing to himself as he says, “God, I’m so in love with you.”

Business at the post office takes very little time. You know the HQ address off-hand given how many times you’ve typed it in your life, and the bored clerk prints out a shipping label before taking the box and carrying it out of sight. 

“No going back now,” you mutter on your way out as Andrew holds the door.

Once in the car, he waits until you’re back on the road to ask, “So…does this mean you’re taking me up on my offer?” His tone is so earnestly hopeful that it makes you want to cry all over again. 

“Yes. For now.” A sideways glance at him reveals his befuddled expression. “Baby, I don’t want to stop working forever. I need to make my own money. I need to do things for myself. But, maybe I can find something less…demanding. And your offer gives me the opportunity to find something I want to do instead of praying that something comes up so I could jump ship.”

There’s silence as he mulls over your answer. Then, he nods and replies, “Yeah, I get that. I just…I mean, I want you to be happy. If that means never working another day in your life, you know I’ll support you. And, who knows? Maybe you’ll find something remote. Then you can come travel with me.” 

Home has never felt so freeing now that work is no longer a leaden weight holding you down. You can feel the automatic processes happening in your brain, trying to figure out what the next meeting is, the next deadline, the next one-one-one that would inevitably be cancelled at the last minute. It will take a while to unlearn the anxious vigilance instilled in you over the last few years, but there’s a joy in knowing that none of those things matter now.

The biggest question on your mind now is what to do first. There are so many little projects you’ve had in mind, things you and Andrew have discussed about the bedroom and the garden. It’s almost overwhelming to think of where you can possibly even start now that you have the time, energy, and brain capacity to manage it. 

Andrew seems to have different ideas as you cross the threshold into the bedroom with him close behind. He catches you around your waist and pulls you back against him as you squeak indignantly.

“Nope,” he muses as you fake a struggle against him. “There’s something else we need to discuss first.”

That tone. It’s the same low, honey-soaked voice he always uses to tease you. For a man who presents so meek and mild, he sure knows how to put on the charm when the mood strikes. 

“What’s that?” you ask carefully, already pressing your thighs together in anticipation.

“You have this nasty little habit of making terribly self-deprecating comments. It’s very unbecoming, darling.”

Huh. That’s not where you expected him to go.

“I…I mean, I know it’s not good…” Your feeble argument dies on your tongue as his hands slip beneath your shirt, cold fingers pressing into your skin. 

Andrew hums. “For someone so smart and capable, you’re quite unkind to yourself.” 

The words make you blush as you attempt to squirm away from him again. No dice. He doesn’t let up, instead tightens his hold on you as he drops kisses along your neck. 

“Ah, nonono, sweet thing. You’re not getting away that easily.” 

You know that he would release you and drop the whole thing should you demand it. You have no issue putting the kibosh on anything you’re not interested in continuing, and he is well aware. Whatever it is that’s on his mind right now is…intriguing. Your body seems to agree as that pulse between your thighs grows stronger. 

“Need I remind you how lovely you really are?” 

The heat of your blush reaches the tips of your ears, spreads along your chest. 

“I’m really not,” you mutter as his hands move up to cup your breasts. Deft fingers gently pinch and rub at your hardened nipples, pulling a soft gasp from you.

There’s a pause as he chuckles warmly, the sound reverberating through your chest like a cat’s purr. He leans in close to your ear and murmurs, “Darling, no arguments. Unless you want me to stuff something into that pretty little mouth of yours, of course.”

Oh.

It’s said so sweetly, so innocuously that the words throw you for a loop. Meek and mild, your fucking arse. This man is a menace, so easily dropping the filthiest things as though they’re merely flippant remarks. 

Apparently, your stunned silence pleases him as he whispers, “Good girl.” 

It’s such a simple phrase, but your knees wobble as you try to keep yourself steady, the wind nearly knocked out of you.

“Andrew, what—” 

One large hand over your mouth quiets you as he coos, “Baby, shush. What’d I just say, hm?”

Warmth spirals in your stomach as he helps you peel your shirt away, and then his hands are on you again, kneading at the fullness of your chest. 

“You are far too harsh on yourself, my love. I think you need to be reminded of how incredible you really are.” 

Embarrassment and arousal make you dizzy as he guides you towards the bed and encourages you to lie down on your back. You scooch back far enough on the mattress that he’s able to slot between your legs easily, resting on his knees as he hooks fingers into the waistband of your shorts and tugs them off along with your panties. 

You’re surprised by the lack of panache, the lack of foreplay before getting you naked. It’s not his usual style, but none of this has been particularly routine so far. The urge to cover yourself is strong as he admires you, but you stay still, fingers curling into the duvet. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I don’t think I say that enough.” 

You roll your eyes, unable to tamp down your bashful smile. “You say it plenty.”

Andrew raises one eyebrow in a warning look as he holds an index finger to his lips. You roll your eyes again but say nothing. 

“Absolutely beautiful and so fuckin’ mouthy. Christ.” He shakes his head as he laughs to himself. “It’s part of what I love about you, though. One of the many things I love about you.”

Your pulse quickens as he looms over you, and you’re reminded of just how large and imposing he can actually be. The thought shouldn’t arouse you as much as it does, but nothing about this situation is conventional, and you suppose it’s never a bad day to learn something new about yourself. 

He smiles so sweetly as he says, “Do you want to know what else I love about you?” The question is obviously rhetorical, so he continues. “Your stunning eyes…your pretty lips…your cute little expressions when you’re embarrassed.” 

You squirm as he runs his fingers along your chest. “I don’t think I need to tell you how much I love your body. It drives me mad when you send those cheeky little photos while I’m away. Especially the boudoir photos in all that black lace.” 

The admission makes you smirk. 

You’re far more forward with your sexual advances as you’ve gotten more comfortable with him, yourself, and your relationship. There’s a specific glee to receiving incoherent responses via text when you send him something suggestive. Oftentimes, it’s followed up with messages in all caps indicating that he is in public, and this is not the time to be turning him on. 

(Your favorite replies are the ones received right before he’s meant to go out on stage, the ones where he clarifies that he had to hide an erection behind his guitar for the first half of his set because of you.) 

“Sometimes, I can’t believe that you’re mine.” 

Another wave of heat washes over you. Andrew’s possessiveness is no secret, but you still thrill at his words when he vocalizes it, calls you his. 

“And yet…” He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “You don’t see yourself the way I see you. It’s such a shame, really.” 

Without warning, his thumb drags against your clit, making you gasp sharply and buck up into the sensation. He hums a little laugh as two fingers drag along your folds, already slick despite him doing nothing more than speaking and lightly touching you. One finger slips into you, then a second as you whimper and throw your arm over your eyes.

Softly, he says, “You’re so pretty like this, darling. All spread out and wet for me even though I’ve barely touched you. Such a good girl.”

A giddy, nervous laugh bubbles up in your chest, and he smiles.

“Ah, so you like that…that’s good to know.” Then, with a tilt of his head, he asks, “Tell me what you want, sweet thing. Do you want me to go down on you? Or, do you want me to fuck you?”

Both options are tantalizing, but his fingers aren’t enough to quell that hollow ache, and you desperately want to come with him inside of you. 

Finally, you manage to whisper, “Fuck me. Please.”

There’s something about the way Andrew looks at you, grinning almost wolfishly as though he were hoping for that response. 

Your eyes are drawn to his hands as he slowly unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops before tossing it aside. The tent in his jeans is obvious now as he unbuttons them, unzips them before pushing them down his thighs along with his black boxers. The display makes you throb with need.

His cock is so pretty, long and curved and already dripping from the tip. The sight makes your mouth water, and you swallow audibly as he strokes himself. 

Andrew tugs you roughly by your hips before grasping himself again and teasing your slit with the head of his length. You whine as he presses into you at an agonizingly slow pace, rolling your hips in a fruitless attempt at forcing him deeper inside of you. He tuts at you, shakes his head, and pulls back until you’re empty again. 

“Ah-ah, no. I need you to do something for me first, okay? See, something my therapist told me once is that positive affirmations do help rework some of those negative internal judgments of yourself despite how silly it feels.” 

Well. That’s…not exactly the pillowtalk you expected to hear. 

He rubs the head of his cock against your clit as he continues, and you can’t bite back your wanton groan. 

Breathlessly, he asks, “I think we should try a little exercise, hm? And if you’re good, I’ll give you what you want. Now, I’m going to say something, and I want you to repeat back to me, okay?”

You blink as he stares at you expectantly. It seems you have no choice in the matter. Not if you want to be fucked six ways from Sunday.

“Baby, please…”

His smile and voice are so soft, so gentle that it makes your chest ache. “I know, darling, I know. You want to feel good, though, right? And I want to make you feel good, but the only way that happens is if you follow instructions. Now, repeat after me: I am not defined by my accomplishments.”

Embarrassment twists in your stomach as you avoid his tender gaze, mouth pressed firmly in a line. 

You swallow audibly and meet his eyes again with a petulant scoff. “Fine…I am not defined by my accomplishments.” 

“Good girl,” he coos. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, let’s try it again. This time, without the attitude, yeah? Repeat after me: I am worthy of love and respect.”

He’s stroking himself again as he says it, his breath hitching and his eyes fluttering as he tries to stay focused on the task at hand. The teasing is driving you mad, arousal leaving a slick sheen on your inner thighs. 

You whine quietly as pleasure shoots up your spine, then murmur, “I am worthy of love and respect.”

“Very good, baby…thank you for following directions.” 

You mildly resent the way his earnest praise makes you want to beam like a child being congratulated on their school marks. 

“Now,” he continues, laughing when you groan impatiently. “Last one, darling, I promise. Repeat after me: The weight of the world does not rest on me.”

With another swallow and a deep breath, you repeat back to him, “The weight of the world does not rest on me.” 

Andrew leans over you to catch you in a kiss that you can’t help but smile into. When he pulls away, he sits back on his knees and runs his fingers along your hips.

“You’ve been so good for me, sweet thing,” he murmurs as he drags the head of his cock through your folds. “I think you deserve some indulgence.” 

Before you can respond, he presses into you with a satisfied groan. “God, you feel...” 

“Oh, god,” you whine as the discomfort of sudden, stretching fullness gives way to tingling pleasure. 

Patience may be a virtue, but the impatience of your desire is a vice that has you wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him in place. He merely chuckles and squeezes one thigh while slowly, steadily pulling out before pushing back into you roughly. 

He looms over you again, pressing your knees back as he leans in to kiss you. You whimper as he kisses along your jaw, every movement making you squirm and quietly beg for more. 

“That’s it. That’s my girl.”

It’s so simple, so innocuous, but the words have you whining and arching your back as you meet back against his quickened thrusts. 

“I know, baby, I know. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

It feels fucking incredible, but your mouth won’t form the words. So, you pull him in for a kiss instead, hot and messy and frantic, tasting of coffee with the barest hint of cinnamon from this morning’s porridge. 

He presses his forehead to yours, and with one moment of adjustment, he’s suddenly hitting a spot that makes you cry out and dig your fingers into his shoulders.

Warmth begins to build in your stomach, that telltale ascent that slowly pulls you taut. Each irregular press against that same pleasurable spot only pushes you further. The shock of his thumb rubbing messy circles into your clit makes you gasp, tears welling up until one slips free and rolls down your cheek.

His movements become more frantic as he moves to lean in close to your ear. “You’re taking me so well, darling.”

“Baby, I can’t—” Your voice cracks as another swipe of his thumb makes your legs shake. “I’m s-so close, please.”

It’s his responding laugh—more a warm, amused hum in your ear—and his low voice murmuring, “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you, just take what you need,” that nudges you over the edge. Your head drops back against the pillows as you let out a hiccuped sob and squeeze your eyes shut, hips rolling as you chase each wave of pleasure that washes over you. 

Andrew doesn’t stop, instead speeds up to an almost brutal pace as you clench around him. He buries his face into your neck as he comes with a soft moan. You thread your fingers into his hair as he rides it out, reveling in each twitch of his cock as he fills you and whimpers your name.

You stay like that for a moment, both panting as you try to regain your breath. A fine sheen of sweat cools rapidly against your skin as he peels away from you, and you whine at the sudden hollow feeling of him pulling out of you. 

“Stay,” he whispers as though your bones aren’t currently made of jelly, and moving from this bed is the furthest thing from your mind right now. 

Your eyes are closed as he shuffles back into the room. You’re startled by the warmth of a damp washcloth against your thighs as he cleans you up. When you peek at him, Andrew smiles and pulls a blanket over you before wiggling beneath it and settling on his back beside you. 

He immediately opens his arms, an invitation that you easily accept as you roll into him with a content sigh. 

“Are you okay, darling?” he asks as he scratches lightly at your scalp. 

“Mmhm,” you hum.

He huffs a quiet laugh. “I take it you had fun?”

You crack an eye open to peer up and smile at him. “So much fun.”

“Good, good. I’m glad.” A pause. “You know how much I adore you, right?”

Despite the numerous times he’s said so, it still fills you with a giddy, sunny warmth. As you hide your blushing face against his shoulder, he continues, “I love you with every ounce of my heart, and I want to give you the world.”

“Andrew…” You can’t help but giggle, eyelids growing heavy as his warmth seeps into you, as his touch soothes and relaxes you further. “I love you too, you absolute fucking muppet.” 

As you yawn, he tightens his hold on you and whispers into your hair, “Shh, sleep now, darling…you deserve to rest.” Another pause, and then he laughs, “Also, you’re a fucking muppet.”

[the-himawari]

A3! Chigasaki Itaru - Translation [SR] Bright Star of Blooming (1/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Rento: Alright dudes, I’mma skedaddle now. I guarantee you the sound’s gonna pop at today’s screening!

Itaru: Great. Thanks for your help today.

*door closes*

Itaru: Now then, we still have some time. Let’s watch the video that was just posted.

Sakuya: …That video has an impressive amount of views! Are those people popular?

Citron: They’re V-talent brothers who have been all the rage recently!

Itaru: They’re real brothers, apparently.

Sakuya: I see. That’s why they get along so well! They’re kind of like Nero and Blanc from “SSR Family”.

*knock, knock*

*door opens*

Izumi: Hey, guys. Akashi-kun popped in to say hello.

Akashi: Sorry for the intrusion… and sorry I’m late.

Izumi: Ah, they’re all watching a video together!

Akashi: All of you like those V-talents too?

Itaru: You know it. I’m currently hooked and I watch them all the time.

Citron: Me too!

Sakuya: I found out about them just now after they told me!

Izumi: This is the first time I’ve seen them. Are you also a fan of them, Akashi-kun?

Akashi: Yes. I watch them a lot these days… They’re great. They’re pro at games and they always have fun stories to tell.

Citron: Hey, Akashi! We have similar tastes in V-talents!

Itaru: I guess my taste is pretty close to theirs too.

*knock, knock*

*door opens*

Manager: Sorry to interrupt! Everyone, it’s almost showtime.

Izumi: Manager. You came to call us over?

Manager: Yep. I figured it’d be fine since you’re here, but I still wanted to make sure.

Itaru: It’s already time? Time sure flies when you’re doom scrolling.

Sakuya: Let’s head to the stage wings!

Citron: We can discuss about V-talents again later!

Akashi: B-Before you go… I like “SSR Family” a lot… so I’m eagerly awaiting to hear the behind-the-scenes stories from the show. Today… I'll make all of you shine with colours that suit you.

Itaru: TY.

Citron: Please do~!

-pause-

Itaru: So, remember how there was a scene where the family unit wasn’t doing so hot since Sakuya’s Blanc and Masumi’s Nero were showing us attitude… It actually took us a little while 'til we could create that tense atmosphere.

Citron: Yes, that’s right~. That brings back memories!

Sakuya: I’m sorry. That was all my fault… Masumi-kun got it right off the bat, but I was struggling with it…

Citron: There is no need to apologize! Masumi was just being himself!

Sakuya: Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t just on you. Plus, Masumi’s just good at that kinda stuff. Although, I’ll say it was unusual for Sakuya to be having such a hard time.

Citron: Did something happen back then, Sakuya?

Sakuya: Honestly, I don't really know how to explain it… But back then, Itaru-san took us out on a drive before rehearsal to get food, didn’t he?

Citron: Oh, yes! That reminds me, Itaru, Sakuya, Masumi and I went out together!

Itaru: Right. I wanted to try acting like a father, so I invited the members of the family unit out.

Sakuya: I had so much fun that day that I guess I had a hard time showing an attitude against Itaru-san and Citron-san.

Citron: I know how you feel! I had a lot of fun too~!

Itaru: If you enjoyed it that much, then as your father who took you, I’m glad.

Guest A: What did you eat?

Sakuya: We had sushi!

Guest B: Sounds awesome~!

Itaru: Our mom, I mean Citron wanted to eat that.

Citron: At that moment, I was craving to have sushi no matter what! The sweet shrimp roll was very tasty!

Itaru: My wallet might’ve become a desolate wasteland, but I’m glad I got to see my family smile. …Hold on. That phrase sounded fatherly, didn't it?

Sakuya: You sounded just like a father!

Citron: Itaru, you’ve gotten the hang up this father thing~!

Itaru: Hang of, right?

Citron: That’s it! I am dying to go to that sushi restaurant again~.

Sakuya: I’d love to go too…!

Itaru: I hear you loud and clear. Let’s all go together as Spring troupe next time.

---

| next

[jsmainblog]

taking it slow - spencer reid ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

spencer reid x inexperienced!reader (established relationship)

requests are always open <3

❤️‍🔥smut

a/n: this is the first time i've ever written a smut like full oneshot which i wrote awhile ago so if this sucks im really sorry squad

warnings: 18+, fingering, mentions of sex

In the midst of your lovers absence (surprise! surprise! he has another case across the other side of the country!!!) you decided that you were going to have sex with him. The thought of it initially was shocking to you even. This abrupt decision was spurred on after chatting to your friend who was throughly shocked that Spencer hasn't gone past heavy makeout sessions with you and a little over the clothes groping (is this because he's a man or is this because you guys have been dating to the point where you guys having sex is assumed? you couldn't determine). So you decided you were going to get it over and done with. After all you were a virgin in every sense of the word even if you despise the concept of it. So flash forward a couple of days you lay in bed on your nightly phone call with Spencer.

"So is there anything else you wanna tell me about?" he inquires

"Yes" you declared

"Really now?"

"Yes really Spencer. I've decided that when you get back I'm going to have sex with you."

"Woah there sweetheart. Lets slow down a little okay? So over my 2 week absence you have came to this little revelation of yours?" he says sounding shocked and amused.

"Yes."

"Why? I mean like yeah I kinda understand that people do feel a need to have sex to be closer with one another even if its just us wanting to go through the actions of reproducing without consequences. But are you sure you want to do that its a little sudden don't you think?" he explains gently

"I do want to do it" you say insistently. His constant questioning is making you feel a little annoyed because you do want to do it with him. Why wouldn't you? But it also tugged at the strings in your brain that maybe Spencer wasn't attracted to you in that way and maybe thats why he's never brought it up before.

"We can do it if you really want. But why don't we work are way up to it, huh angel? I just want you to get comfortable before tossing you into the deep end. I don't want you to back out during the middle of it."

"Okay" you murmur. "What time do you land tomorrow?"

"Uhhhh..Should be around 10:30am. Anyways I imagine its getting pretty late for you so you should sleep. I love you y/n, I'll see you tomorrow, sweet dreams my love."

"I love you too Spence goodnight." You say into the phone before hanging up. So now you have a plan. A daunting one, but yet a plan none the less.

The next day transpired pretty normally. Spencer getting home from his case, having a power nap whilst you went about your life leading to a makeout session.

Spencer kissed you like a man starved, tongue tracing your mouth like he was committing it to memory which he most indefinitely was. If one day he showed up with a 3D model of the inside of your mouth you wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. You could feel your body temperature rising and a familiar throb from between your thighs. Spencer's hands rested on your hips rubbing them gently. When he pulled away a confused look crossed your face.

"Is there something wrong?" you stutter earning you a breathless laugh from him.

"No nothings wrong your just really pretty thats all, and I also wanted to ask if your okay with me touching you?" he confesses

"Um..Yeah more than okay..Uh" you breathe

"Don't be nervous baby just lift your hips for me yeah?" he says a bit amused starting to unbutton your jeans. It hits you suddenly. You're actually doing this ur breathing picks up but ur not scared actually ur excited very excited. Spencer practically mashes his mouth to yours as the jeans came off and were thrown somewhere across the room. He uses his thigh to nudge your legs apart.

"Mmmm i think pretty is an understatement when it comes to you angel" he jokes which illicts a shy laugh from you. He uses his thumb brushing over your clit. Your heavy breathing turns into whines and eventually little moans as you feel a warm slippery sensation forming.

"There we go, good girl" he mumbles "Well I think theres no use of these panties anymore they are throughly soaked. Lets get these off you yeah?" he questions before tugging at your panties. Your doing this with Spencer Reid. The Spencer Reid you thought as shy and timid when you first met him and now well he's doing this. You can't help but to look up at him adoringly. Before you know it the rubbing sensation continues only you can feel it a little more this time and now a new feeling of a weird stretch? You sit up a bit where you find Spencer's hand joining the junction of your thighs looking up at you with a sweet grin. From what you have heard from your girlfriends guy's liked to take pleasure from you to give to themselves not giving it to you, and you certainly haven't known someone who described someone looking at them so lovingly the first time they did it together. This reiterates the fact that 'woah Spencer really loves you.' which is confirmed by the building pleasure as another finger slips inside.

"You're doing so well baby, you're being so good." he breathes as his eyes flick from his hand to your face. "You doing okay there?"

"Uh huh very well" you moan

"Yeah I can see that"

After a while of his fingers pumping rhythmically the spring in your stomach snaps and you go weirdly squirmy as you feel a warm feeling trickle through your veins. Best feeling ever. Spencers fingers slip out as he wipes it on his leg and lays next to you softly kissing all over your face.

"You okay?" he questions his fingers tracing your arms gently.

"I love you" you say hoarsely which illicit a soft laugh from him.

"Yeah baby I can tell"

-------------------------------

a/n: again guys im sorry if this was bad i myself was cringing a little writing this 😭

[ladyescapism]

The Fourth Archeron Sister - Part 6

summary: the baby of the family, Deirdre Archeron, is growing up and finding herself. on place she has already found is in a unknowingly requited crush with a certain shadow singer. will they be able to find each other? or will expectations, honor, and other forces get in the way?

a/n: well, this is it. the last part. I decided to use one word doc to write this series and it is 50 pages and a little over 14,000 words total. my mind is blown. I can finally put my first multi-part series to rest. thank you for everyone's kindness and support as I have grown as a writer. without further ado...

part 5 -- masterlist

wc: 2,285

warnings: none, just some angst and fluff

~ ~ ~

DIERDRE

Deirdre’s tears calmed after an hour or so. She began moving around her apartment, searching for something to do, but found little purpose. In her desperation, she resorted to organizing - a truly terrible task. 

She had finally finished sorting her books in to piles that she had purchased and those on loan. Before she could start putting them in alphabetical order by author’s last name, a knock sounded at the door. 

No shadows whispered at her telling her that Azriel came for another attempt at an apology. She opened the door to find her sisters waiting patiently for her. 

She sniffled, but silently moved so that they could enter. 

“What are you doing?” Nesta practically accused. 

“Organizing my books,” she replied. 

Wordlessly, Nesta shot her a look for where she came to stand beside her youngest sister as if to silently ask ‘Really?’ 

Feyre spoke cheerfully, “It seems to be coming along, dove.” 

It was Feyre’s turn to get that look from Nesta. An almost awkward silence passed between them. 

“Not to sound rude,” Deirdre said. “But what brings you here?” 

“No ruder than the look we both just got from Nesta,” Feyre laughed. 

Deirdre managed a chuckle. 

Nesta sighed and rubbed her belly. Deirdre darted to the sofa, quickly clearing a place for her very pregnant sister to rest. “Here,” she insisted. 

“Thank you, D,” Nesta said. 

“We came to check on you,” Feyre started. “And I came to apologize.” 

“No need, Feyre,” she said. “It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Let her finish,” Nesta interjected. 

Deirdre silenced herself. 

“I shouldn’t have let them speak to you like that. Rhys should not have condescended to you. Azriel shouldn’t have even brought what happened to us without your consent. I should have taken issue with that from the beginning – not just after I saw how much it upset you. I was wrong to make that comment about mates, too. You’re right. Cassian did not have a right to know about what Alex said before Nesta.” 

“Hold on, what?” Nesta asked. 

“When we were arguing in the hall,” Deirdre explained. “Feyre said that I didn’t understand where Cassian was coming from because I don’t have a mate. That Azriel though Cassian would have a right to know the same as you.” 

“I would have told Cassian right away,” Nesta said plainly. “If Deirdre was okay with it, I probably would have had him with us when you told me.” 

“And I would have been perfectly okay with that, too,” Deirdre sighed out. “But I just needed an hour or two, a good meal, and a bath before I went out of the house again to tell anyone.” 

Deirdre plopped into an armchair by the window. “Azriel had to go and tattle on me, making the situation and my reaction seem so much worse.” 

Feyre looked concerned. “I didn’t even get the whole story.” 

“Basically,” Deirdre explained, “is that Alex took me to a sticky tavern and left me to talk to other people a lot, one of which I would later find out was a past… companion of Nesta’s. Looking back, he had one too many drinks. When he walked me home and I admitted that I didn’t like the tavern, he called me a frigid bitch, revealed that bit of information about Nesta, and called her a slut.” 

Feyre looked contemplative. “Cassian made it sound like you had been practically assaulted and Nesta’s honor had been dragged through the mud.” 

“Honestly, he probably got over-protective.” Nesta looked to Feyre. “Over both me and Deirdre. Az coming to him like it was a big secret didn’t help.” 

“Azriel is the best secret-keeper on the whole fucking island,” Deirdre exclaimed, earning shocked looks from both her sisters. “And he literally couldn’t wait 20 minutes for me to process and figure out how to tell you.” She flung her hand towards Nesta. 

“And there still isn’t a good reason why he went and told Cassian when I told him specifically not to tell Cassian.”

“Has he come to apologize yet,” Feyre asked. 

‘Yes! He’s sorry it escalated but not sorry that he did it.” Deirdre looked to her books. “Well, I’m sorry that the pages of the book I threw at him creased, but I hope he gets a bruise!”

Deirdre panted from her outburst. 

“You threw a book at Azriel,” Nesta asked. 

“Yes.” 

“You threw a book at the Shadow singer, spymaster to the Night Court.” It was Feyre’s turn to ask. “And landed a hit?” 

A smile broke across Deirdre’s face at the ridiculousness of what she had done. “Yes,” she squeaked out. 

A laugh broke from Feyre’s lips. And soon all three of them were in hysterics. Feyre fell to the sofa in her fit of laughter. Deirdre had pitched forward in her chair, falling on the floor and sending a stack of books tumbling. Nesta was the most restrained of the three, but sill cradled her belly as she laughed. 

Soon they settled. They began to hash out more feelings. Real pride shown across Nesta’s face when Deirdre added the part where she slapped Alex. 

Lunchtime had passed when Feyre and Nesta both headed for home. Feyre left with a promise that Rhys would apologize for his over-reaction. Nesta made no such assurances. Surprising both Feyre and Deirdre, Nesta pulled her youngest sister into a brief, but tight hug. 

“Thank you for planning to come talk to me about what he said before sharing it with everyone else,” Nesta said into her ear. “I appreciate the maturity in which you tried to handle this.” 

Deirdre couldn’t think of any response, so she wished her sisters safe travels and returned to the silence of her home. 

~ ~ ~

AZRIEL

He had really done it this time. Deirdre was never going to forgive him. 

“I’m not mad that you told me,” Cassian tried to reassure him. “I may have over-reacted, but coming to me was the right thing to do.” 

“I violated Deirdre’s trust in doing that. She asked me to not tell you so that she could talk to Nesta first.” 

“Then why did you tell him,” Nesta’s voice interrupted. 

Azriel didn’t know how to respond. Nesta continued to stare him down, waiting on an answer. 

“She tried to hide how much she had cried,” Nesta continued. “Her face was red and puffy. Her apartment was a disaster. And honestly, she looked so sad and embarrassed.” 

Azriel couldn’t take this. He made to walk away into the house where he could escape Nesta telling him how badly he fucked up. 

“That what you did – both of you. More than anything else. You embarrassed her,” Nesta whirled on Cassian. “Deirdre has been through so much. She tried to tell me in private or just the two of us. But you had to go and drag it out in front of everyone.” 

Azriel looked to find his brother’s head bent in shame. 

With Nesta’s ire focused on Cassian, he silently crept into his room. 

~ ~ ~

One Month Later 

“A beauty, Nesta. She’s wonderful.” Deirdre’s voice rang through the room. She hadn’t looked at him the whole time she had been in the house. 

Deirdre had attended to Nesta in the birthing room. He has seen her briefly when she came rushing in - the news that Nesta had gone into labor had her sprinting from the main room to assist Nesta any way she could. Hours later, they had been blessed with a healthy, pink, wailing niece. 

Azriel came into the room for his turn to hold the baby girl. He stood in the doorway, not wanting to impose on the sisterly affection. Cassian spotted him soon enough. 

“Brother,” he said. “Come and meet her - Juniper” 

Cassian had cried when he came to the seating room earlier to tell everyone that his baby girl had arrived with mother and child healthy as can be. Rhys and Cassian shared their first moment in solidarity as fathers. 

He had watched – jealously coursing through his body. 

He took one step into the room. Nesta’s hair was tied back in a messy braid, tendrils of her golden waves framing her exhausted features. He made his way over to her first, placing a kiss on her cheek. 

“Congratulations, sister.” 

Nesta nodded in response, eyes seeking her baby again. She held her arms out, beckoning Deirdre to hand baby Juniper back to her mother. Deirdre turned her body from where she sat on the bed holding the babe and situated her to her mother’s arms. 

She stood, moving to Cassian and wrapping her arms around his large frame. The male gently lifted Deirdre into her arms to give her one of his signature bear hugs. 

Azriel sat and the babe was placed gently into his arms. She let out a small sigh of discontentment at all the motion but settled soon enough. 

He was almost besotted enough to not notice Deirdre slip form the room. 

Almost. 

He held Juniper for long minutes before Mor came in and asked for her turn, bouncing from one foot to the other with excitement. He had excused himself, resigned to try and speak to the youngest sister once more. 

Azriel found her quickly, standing on the balcony overlooking the garden Elain had toiled in. She had let down her hair. The long golden waves fell down her back, nearly touching the tops of her thighs. The sunlight set her length nearly glittering as the wind lifted and twisted the strands. When she turned to look at him, his heart nearly stopped at the sight of her crystal bule eyes finding his. Morning dew in the sunlight – just as her father said.  

Had she always had this air about her? When had she become so graceful? 

“I got your letters.” She turned her gaze back to the garden. “All of them. I didn’t know how to respond.” 

He stayed silent. He would carve out the heart in his chest for her to just look at him again. Deirdre could throw as many books or spit as many hateful words at him as she liked, so long as her eyes found his. 

Rhys and Feyre kept them apart. Deirdre has asked for space after he betrayed her so terribly. Feyre visited Deirdre at her apartment a few times since that day. She came to the house once to look after Nyx, but he was away on a mission. She had done just fine on her own. 

Azriel shoved his pride down deep in his chest. He needed her in his life. If he went on like this, he didn’t know what he would do with himself. 

“Did you read them?” 

She looked at him as if he had a second head. His lips threatened to tilt up at the expression. “Of course.” 

“Then you know how sorry I am.” 

She didn’t say anything. 

“You don’t own me anything, Deirdre.” He swallowed, a lump already forming in his throat. “But do you think, one day, you could forgive me?” 

She sighed. 

“Not today, not tomorrow,” he insisted. “But would you give me the chance to earn your trust back?” 

She smiled at him - a wistful, considering smile. 

“I think that is entirely possible.”

~ ~ ~

DIERDRE

It should have taken longer for Deirdre to feel like she could trust Azriel again. The few weeks of attention he devoted to her should not have made her fully prepared to melt into him again. 

The only thing this month or so of dedication from Azriel did was make her crush on him come back with ravenous force. She could hardly stand to look at him without a blush coming across her cheeks. 

But, she could no longer brush herself off as a foolish girl. Her heart knew what it wanted: Azriel. 

Now, she stood by his side looking at the Sidra on a bridge at twilight. The scene could have come from one of Feyre’s paintings. The streetlights reflecting on the rippling water, the passers-by laughing and chatting with each other and the center on the painting – the bridge where the pair stood. 

“Azriel,” she started. “There is something I must tell you.” 

His eyes shifted to hers. His face was open and light, relaxed from their quiet evening. The streetlights reflected in the golden specks around his iris. 

Be brave, she thought to herself. 

“I have feelings for you,” she rushed out. “For a while, I have had a serious crush on you. I think about you all the time. And I was wondering, if you might have any romantic inclinations towards me? If not, it’s perfectly fine but - ”

She stopped when she felt Azriel rough hand grab hers. Deirdre didn’t realize that she looked down when she started her confession. She raised her gaze to meet his again. 

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that?” 

“What?” 

Azriel just shook his head, the chuckle he let out going straight to her heart and nesting next to her soul. 

He pulled her body closer to hers. Slowly, silently, intentionally, he lowered his lips to touch hers. Her hand found his cheek, bringing his head that much closer. 

She gasped. Something in her chest pulled taught. Azriel snapped his head back, searching for the cause of her noise.

He blinked rapidly before pure happiness like she had never seen on his face lit up the twilight. 

The tightness in her chest flowed to his. Her soul flew from her chest and collided with his in a glorious symphony. 

As it turns out, they were made for each other. 

p.s. What I wouldn't give to get a bear hung from Cassian. I just know he gives the best hugs

taglist: @feysandzoyalailover @fanfictioniseverything @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @singhillada @marina468 @acourtofbooksandshadows @kristeristerin @xcastawayherosx @bunnyredgirl @pinksmellslikelove

[serenastark-official]

🧙‍♂️✨ The Do’s and Don’ts of Being Friends with Stephen Strange: A Survival Guide by Serena Stark ✨🧙‍♂️ Pt. 1

Alright, I’m here to help all of you navigate the wild experience that is being friends with Stephen Cedric Vincent Strange, the guy who can open portals to alternate dimensions but still can’t pronounce "penguin" correctly. (Looking at you, Doc. 👀)

✅DO’s

Do accept that he’s basically a walking thesaurus.

When Stephen opens his mouth, prepare to hear words that make you feel dumb. Words like “epistemology,” “prestidigitation,” and “probabilistic thaumaturgy.” If you don’t know what half of those mean, don’t worry. Just nod and smile, and occasionally drop “That’s fascinating, Doc” like you're actually listening.

Do accept that he will judge your life choices.

You know how some people are passive-aggressive? Well, Stephen is aggressively passive. He’ll “casually” mention that you could probably fix your whole life with a little “focus” and “discipline” while giving you a judgmental side-eye. Thanks, Doc, I’m already working on it. Maybe don’t tell him about your Netflix binge—he’ll probably lecture you on “wasting time” or something equally annoying.

Do appreciate His Style.

Stephen's wardrobe is 90% cloaks, and honestly, he pulls it off. The man can be the most powerful sorcerer in the multiverse and still manage to look like he’s one step away from a Hogwarts graduation ceremony. Compliment his cloak. Always. It’s the only thing keeping his ego from imploding, and let’s face it, that thing is his most prized possession.

Do enjoy his random facts about everything.

No, seriously. Stephen Strange is basically a walking encyclopedia, but way more intense. He’ll casually mention facts about the history of magical realms, obscure creatures, or the properties of enchanted mushrooms, and you’ll wonder, “How does he know so much about mushrooms?!” But hey, it's better than the usual small talk, right? Just nod and say, "That's interesting, Doc," even if you’re still wondering about the mushroom thing.

Do pretend you understand magic (for his ego’s sake).

When Strange starts talking about spells or mystical rituals, just toss in a “Yeah, totally. That makes sense.” Maybe even throw in a “I think I can feel the magic now,” and watch him glow with pride. Deep down, we both know you have no idea what the hell he’s talking about, but this is the best form of flattery. No one tell him I still use Google to figure out half of what he says.

Do accept that you will never, ever win an argument.

Stephen is the king of "I told you so" moments. He’s been alive for centuries (or at least it feels that way), so he will outwit you, out-reason you, and out-snark you into oblivion. Don’t even bother trying to argue your point. Your best bet is just to nod and say, “Yeah, sure, Doc, you were right,” even if you know you weren’t wrong. It’s easier this way.

Do be ready to call him out when he’s wrong.

Even a Sorcerer has to take accountability. You might not have magical powers, but you’ve got that Stark wit and some serious confidence, so when he pulls a "Stephen Strange" moment—like when he tries to explain why he is always right—don’t hesitate to put him in his place. You’ll gain mad respect.

Do prepare for spontaneous philosophical debates about existence.

Somehow, Stephen will always find a way to turn your casual conversation into a deep dive about the nature of reality, the universe, and how everything is interconnected—even the way your coffee tastes. Just roll with it. You didn’t plan on spending the next 45 minutes contemplating the meaning of life while looking at a cup of coffee, but here we are.

Do embrace the unexpected trips to the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Being friends with Stephen means you might end up in the Sanctum Sanctorum at odd hours. And not just the “let’s grab some coffee and chat” kind of visit—oh no, sometimes you’ll be swept into dimension-bending, reality-altering escapades with absolutely zero notice.

Do learn the art of nodding and pretending you understand the mystic mumbo-jumbo.

Let’s face it, half the time you’re going to be completely out of your depth when Stephen talks about magic, alternate dimensions, or cosmic phenomena. But don’t panic—just nod, repeat a key word you might have understood, and when in doubt, throw in an “I knew that!” Stephen will never know that you have no idea what’s going on. After all, he’s a wizard, not a mind reader. Probably.

Do accept that he's secretly proud of you (sometimes).

Deep down, Stephen is actually quite proud of you when you manage to hold your own in a conversation about magical chaos or dimensional anomalies. It’s rare to get an actual compliment, but when you do, it’s like a momentous occasion. Think of it as winning a gold medal in a very niche event. But if he ever says, “You did well,” it’s like the highest form of praise he’ll give you, and you’ll feel like you’ve just achieved enlightenment.

Do remind him to eat... occasionally.

As busy as he is, Stephen somehow forgets to eat. So, when you're hanging out, throw a snack his way and remind him that the human body still needs food—no matter how much magic he’s conjuring. If you’re lucky, he’ll mutter something about “taking care of himself,” but hey, at least he ate.

DON'Ts

[darkmaga-returns]

Trump Ends Birthright Citizenship - I could cry reading this article. FINALLY someone of influence that truly understands the original intent of the Constitution and namely the 14th Amendment. I often refer to the US Senate Debate of 1866 and Mr. Wolverton refers to the same. He also refers the real definition of natural born citizen from the Law of Nations a document referred to by our founders while creating our founding documents. This was the definition understood by all people at the time of our founding and there has never been a law passed to change the definition. KUDDOS to Mr. Wolverton. He will be speaking in Johnson City, TN on February 4, 2025 and I cannot wait for this presentation entitled: MAKE AMERICA STATES AGAIN. The audience will get a good lesson in the states authority over the federal government. Most people think the federal government has power over the states. The federal government’s power comes from the states and the people of the states and is limited to Art. 1 Sec. 8 of the US Constitution and it is about time the lies spewed from the federal government are put to bed. The deliberate dumbing down of America has been all about Americans not knowing the truth of the power derived in the states and the people and the VERY LIMITED legislative power given to the federal government by the states and the people of the states. We here in TN have been fighting for almost 3 years now to restore our rightful authority. In this article Mr. Wolverton also explains the true definition of NBC (Natural Born Citizen) Place of birth has no bearing on NBC. The citizenship of the father is what determines the NBC of the children. ARTICLE

CALL YOUR US REP. AND SENATORS - Tell them to vote NO on this bill. It is dangerous and will do away with doctors diagnosing and caring for patients. If AI diagnosis a person with cancer and their diagnosis is wrong……how do you sue AI?? Watch this bill and if it gets passed be sure to organize and make sure your state does not allow AI to prescribe drugs to sick people - HB238

Bill Gates wants to reduce the population - VIDEO

6 Presidents worth before they became President and what they were worth when they left office. What is your answer to the question at the end of the video -Thanks to Brent B. - 1 min. VIDEO

Fear And Loathing In DC: Why Did Trump Push Larry Ellison's Deranged AI mRNA Cancer Shots, Days Before RFK Jr. Is To Be Confirmed As Head Of HHS? Not A Reason To Abandon Hope, But Very Odd by Celia Farber - ARTICLE/VIDEOS

URGENT: Mike Pence's Big-Pharma-Funded Advocacy Group Attacking RFK Jr. Has Ties To Pfizer and Johnson & Johnson - I have NEVER like Pence and was very disappointed when Trump chose him as his VP. Pence has always been a snake - ARTICLE

[peachjagiya]

The ability of taekookers to catch on little subtle things, dynamics, behaviors of taekook, waaaaaay ahead of general fandom, baffles me sometimes🤣

We are called crazy, delusional, psycho just for fandom to realize the same things months or years later, or for taekook or their circle to confirm it themselves.

Like the Hello Kitty plushie lore…HOW were we so spot on💀

I just went down memory lane and were checking twitter reactions to taekook in 2023 and…tkkrs were already catching on how Jungkook is friends with all of Tae’s friends. “Jung kook new wooga squad member” etc. And armys just become aware of it in late 2024, like that’s crazy🤣

I wouldn’t be surprised if this whole theory about Taehyung being heavily involved in the organization of Jungkook golden listening party to be true…or maybe even the instigator lmao

I wonder if taekookers aren’t just very observant people in general, compared to rest of fandom. More logical perhaps? (The sane ones tho lol)

I think it's literally something about being interested in Jungkook and Taehyung as real people and being disinclined to just believe the Bighit version of them.

Once you see there's a lot of smoke and mirrors around their portrayal, maybe it tunes you into what else doesn't add up? And we're not just seeing or expecting the worst of them the whole time.

Then of course there's no agenda to explain logical simple ideas away.

Like the AYS boat. A lot of us knew Taehyung was on that boat with them but non-Taekookers were insistent that he was probably on a different boat with Wooga, he was just there by himself, he can't have been there because Jimin didn't mention Tae in the shark drawing ⁉️ Even when the trailer came out and it's the same setting, same island, same sunset, same guard rail: oh Taehyung is probably just on a different boat.

Or he's just on their boat. Taekookers clearly feel no need to do somersaults trying to explain that away.

It baffles me how much basic like right in front of them stuff they don't know. Or maybe they're just wilfully not seeing it.

[dykedvonte]

Curly had two days to act and Swansea had two months.

I think it’s just interesting that every defense of Swansea not immediately acting are the same ones that are argued against for Curly. “He didn’t want to alert Daisuke or makes things worse for Anya either Jimmy!” I mean people also assume that about Curly and the crew. “He has to think about his plan of action and a right moment!” Again so did Curly, power and authority aside, he still would have to think of what he had to do. “He makes sure he doesn’t have to be around Jimmy!” So did Curly and they only do this to an extent, both give Jimmy more than a few opening to keep harassing Anya.

This isn’t defense of Curly nor a damnation of Swansea. Their actions are very parallel to each others in tragic and sour ways when it comes to how they approached helping Anya. In the grand scheme of it all they both did the same thing: Nothing. No action either took stopped the inevitable outcome of her death nor Jimmy’s continued damage to themself.

The only real difference is Swansea didn’t like Jimmy which is pretty substantial, but also just as damning as Curly knowing how bad Jimmy could get to an extent. He had even less of a reason to wait, even more of a reason to act seeing as he was now worried for Anya AND Daisuke. He is not bound by the possible procedure as Captain and actively does not care about what happens next. So what does it matter if he acted in the moment? Why did he wait? I think he’s just as morally complex and grey as Curly and we hold him on a pedestal that still perpetuates things in rape culture the game critiques.

It’s not just enough to dislike and be abrasive to predators/abusers like Jimmy. It’s not enough to just put yourself between them and the other person. It’s not enough to hold tensions when you know someone is vulnerable. He and Curly do the exact same things but on different sides of the coin. I ask how is it better to not turn a blind eye but still not really do anything about what you are seeing? Not until it affects you atleast…

The game makes a big point to not put men doing the bare minimum or who wait to do more on pedestals and I’m actually surprised so many are missing that point.

[quaranmine]

On Wednesday before I gave my presentation I confessed to a new employee that I was worried it would be too long and she brightly told me her life hack was to just let AI rewrite things for her. She said I should put in all my talking points and ask ChatGPT to give me a five minute exactly presentation. I was like....how is the most polite possible way (since this is a new colleague I shouldn't get off on the wrong foot with) that I can express that I will Not be taking this advice. Ever. I told her that I didn't think we were allowed to use ChatGPT at this job (we most certainly are not, it is a nightmare for any type of protected information) and also that I prefer to write all of my own work. Despite my best efforts the last part of that was still passive aggressive, lol.

Something about being a writer makes it so that it's almost offensive to me for someone to suggest I use AI to do my work instead? Like, the day I reach the point where I let AI write something for me is the day y'all need to be checking me for brain damage because clearly I'm losing it

[the-physicality]

.