#winning. winning. winning. i am ALWAYS winning

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

Here's the thing -- Presidents have immunity for official acts. (BTW, they always have, the surprise part of the ruling was how broadly they were classifying official acts to make that fit and why Smith was able to refile amended charges that included almost all of the same charges.)

But BECAUSE they stretched it that far, there is precedent. Precedent is a powerful thing.

Now I have mentioned here before all of the various laws regarding military aid to Israel and how a President cannot unilaterally terminate a treaty (treaties belong to congress) or refuse to give funding or aid under that treaty (budget and treaties belong to congress) and trying would get the slapped down by the Court as overreach in about 12 seconds flat because the Court is dominated by those supported by the creepy death cultists who need Israel to keep existing until they die in fire in the their creepy death cult propechies... and that would be bad because it would create a precedent that would make it harder for a President to pull that kind of card to back them down.

That's still true but seeing as how Trump will 100% give them whatever they want anyway since he also is in deep with the death cultists, it's irrelevant trying to keep that option open.

But that does give Biden a chance to do something incredible right now. He can terminate that treaty and aid under it by executive order right now and put the Court in a position where either they sacrifice the Israel treaty (yay!!!!!) or they set a precedent that protects NATO (also a huge fucking win!!!!)

We live in a fascist state now so I can't guarantee that precedent will continue to mean a thing, but it's a shot to clear at least one foreign policy concern off the board that I am reasonably sure no one that is incoming knows how to counter.

[barcaatthemoon]

your best girl || alexia putellas x reader ||

You comfort Alexia when she returns after the Olympics.

18+

Everybody had a job. You had nearly forgotten that with the craziness of the Olympics. Alexia worked hard to be the best captain for her country that she could. There was only so much that her on-pitch presence could do. Their issue was at the coach's level, and the team suffered because of that. Alexia had only come back to you a couple days early after being knocked away from the medals, and that was where your job started.

It was always difficult gauging the amount of space to give Alexia. You understood how devastating a blow it was, having lost the chance for a medal at your first Olympics. Back then, you had wished that someone would have helped you pick up the pieces of yourself, but instead, you tried to brave it all on your own. Alexia wasn't like you, and that was where you apprehension about talking to her came in.

The thought of smothering Alexia and pushing her away haunted you constantly. You needed to do something to show her that you were there for her that wasn't over the top of dramatic. And so, you dropped as many little hints that you were just waiting for her to come to you. You thought for a moment that you'd end up driving yourself mad waiting for Alexia, but the silence and tension in the apartment only lasted for a few days at most.

"What is all of this?" Alexia asked as she stood behind your desk chair. You tried to turn, but Alexia was holding you forward. You could feel her lean down a bit, reading over your analysis of the games for work. "You've been busy."

"Never too busy for you though," you told her. Alexia dropped her hands from your chair, finally allowing for you to turn and face her. "I'm glad to see you up and around a bit."

"The bed felt a little cold, and I know that it's not really a big thing, but I was hoping that you had some time to join me," Alexia said. You nodded, quickly saving the small additions you had made to your analysis paper before shutting your computer down and following Alexia into the bedroom.

It looked like she had been cleaning a bit before she came to get you. The nest of blankets that Alexia had created to curl up and wallow in was now dismantled. She had tidied up her laundry from the floor and made the bed, which you knew were big steps. Aside from that, you didn't let the candles on the bedside table or the songs from your R&B sex playlist playing.

"How exactly am I helping you warm up the bed?" you asked teasingly. Alexia played it innocent as she sat back on the bed. She patted the spot next to you, and you all but rushed over to join her. Sex hadn't been on the table for you mentally when Alexia got home, but you were a bit relieved to not be waiting weeks like the last big loss Alexia had faced.

You didn't understand how someone so amazing could get down on themselves so easily. Alexia was under immense pressure from fans, but it was nothing compared to what she put herself through. You felt guilty learning from those around Alexia that it only got worse when you came in the picture. In your eyes, you were washed up and spat out by the game, but Alexia held you in the regard that some had during your prime.

"I did have a couple of things in mind. I think that I need a little reminder of who I am." Alexia ducked her head down until her face was tucked into the crook of your neck. She was being shy, like she was ashamed of really asking for what you wanted. Still, you completely understood wht she needed. It wasn't exactly what had become your normal, but you were still definitely up to reminding Alexia that she didn't have to win everything in order for you to love and cherish her.

"I get that you need this for what happened in Paris, but forget about football and the Olympics completely. Right now it's just the two of us. I am just me, and you are just you." Alexia struggled to take your words to heart at first, but that was expected. You were used to this little speedbump, but it was the most important part of everything in your eyes. "You love me despite the fact that I haven't worn a jersey of my own in three years. I'll love you even if you never put another Spain or Barcelona jersey on again. I'll love you when the day comes that your body can't handle the game anymore, and I will take care of you when you inevitably push yourself too far again. Do you know why?"

"No," Alexia answered. You turned her face so that she was looking at you and you only.

"Because I did not fall in love with Alexia Putellas, the footballer. I fell in love with the woman who doesn't know how to tread lightly, so she wakes me up at odd hours every single time that she gets out of bed. I fell in love with the woman who goes out of her way to take care of her community and everybody that she cares about. I fell in love with the woman who runs into the arm of the couch every single morning because she's too busy watching me walking into the kitchen. I fell in love with you because of what I saw off of the pitch," you told her. Alexia was blushing deeply, unsure of what to do with praise in that sense.

"I just wanted to win and make you proud. You got this new job after working so hard these past couple of years to learn Spanish. You're doing so much, and what have I done to compare?" Alexia confessed. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Alexia was constantly doing things that often made you feel a bit inferior, so it blew your mind a little to hear that Alexia had been feeling this way too.

"Ale, you are the best soccer player in the world. I'm only here because I gave up and called it quits. You're doing amazing things all of the time. You're the best in the world, and let's face it, I wouldn't have gotten my foot in the door if I wasn't your girlfriend. I could have worked and worked and worked forever, but they wouldn't have cared." Alexia's face changed from its formerly soft expression to a hardened one. "I'm not here to argue about my achievements with you, I'm here to remind you that this one setback won't define your worth."

"Just you wait, they'll be referring to me as (Y/n) (Y/l/n)'s girlfriend. Hopefully one of the better ones," Alexia said. She sounded so confident and sure of herself that you had to believe her.

"You'll always be the best one. Hopefully you'll also be my last one," you told her. Alexia leaned in and kissed you, slowly pulling you on top of her. You let the kiss progress naturally, neither of you pushing things too far without the other pressing equally as much.

"Take this off," Alexia requested as she started tugging at the hem of your shirt. You sat back and started removing the pieces of your clothes that Alexia asked you to. In turn, she briefly moved you off of her lap to completely undress herself. The tension in the room thickened a bit as she laid down again, legs spread as you stood at the end of the bed.

"You look unreal," you muttered as you moved onto the bed. You didn't want to leave Alexia waiting. Alexia didn't want to wait either, guiding your head between her legs without any ounce of hesitation. You could see that Alexia was already wet. She wasn't soaked but still undeniably wet.

You didn't have a chance to tease Alexia. She guided your face to her cunt, movements on the cusp of being pushy. Alexia was almost always in control, and she doubled down whenever you were topping. She didn't want to wait around or be teased, Alexia wanted to cum. You still had your chance to revel in the taste of her, even if it wasn't in the same way that she got to with you.

It didn't come as a surprise to you to have Alexia grinding her hips to move against your tongue. She didn't seem to want your fingers at all, working herself up on just your mouth. You loved it, loved knowing that you could make Alexia feel so good with just a few simple movements. Topping Alexia gave you a rush that you'd be riding for the next couple of days, until Alexia felt up to the task of "putting you back in your place."

"I'm so fucking close. Don't stop, please don't stop," Alexia swore. She wasn't usually one for pleading, but you'd take it. Her hands were gripping your shoulders tightly, nails digging in as you savored every drop of her that you could. Alexia let you continue with the strokes of your tongue past her first orgasm, only pushing you away after the second. She rode one high into the next before her brain and body seemed to catch up to each other.

She was sensitive, and her legs jerked shut, nearly hitting you in the process. You didn't sit back and stare, instead going straight into the bathroom to get a warm washcloth. Alexia let you clean her up, not saying anything to you until after she had grabbed new clothes to wear for the night. You stripped the bed and put everything in the washer, slightly surprised to find Alexia waiting for you in the kitchen when you were done.

"I don't think I let you know how important you are to me. I don't know how badly I would have spiraled without you here," Alexia told you. You blushed as she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you from behind. "Tomorrow, I start training again. I've only got a few years until the next World Cup and Olympics."

"I mean, I guess," you sighed. Alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek before she grabbed a snack to take into the living room. You went decided to go to bed, already well aware that Alexia wouldn't get to bed for another hour or so at least. You set an alarm for 1, deciding that if she wasn't in bed by then, you were going out to the living room to collect her yourself.

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Hi,

Would you be open to write about Oscar and his childhood friend, now scientists. just them supporting each other during their own careers. Being so damm proud and all the time yapping about the otheres archivements Showing up at diffrent events for each other, like her coming to a race, and him showing up at a conference, where she's presenting her research.

Thanks a lot!

♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist

♡ warnings: none

♡ an: i messed up and replied to a different request with this T_T. so this is basically a repost. nonetheless, thank you for requesting and sorry for the mess-up.

Oscar couldn’t remember a time when you weren't around. From the early days at your father’s karting track, where you would sit on the bleachers with a juice box and your homework, to the present - F1 tracks, where your face was one of the first he searched for in the crowd.

Your friendship started when your fathers introduced you to each other. You were both six and despite most kids this age being disgusted by the opposite gender you two quickly became close. When you were kids people often mistook you as siblings - always next to each other, teasing and giggling but also supporting each other. 

When Oscar went to boarding school a lot changed. You went from seeing each other everyday to seeing each other twice a year. Nonetheless, not seeing each other very often and the mix of puberty hormones didn’t take a toll on your relationship. While Oscar was in Europe, racing in junior motorsport series, you were in Australia pursuing your academic dream. 

You two reunited not long after turning twenty. Oscar just got his seat in Formula one and you were on your way to receive your diploma. Even with your busy schedules you tried to spend as much time together as possible. You were a regular in the paddock and everyone in Mclaren’s garage knew you. 

The crowd was loud as Oscar climbed out of his car and hugged his team. His eyes searched the crowd until they landed on you - his biggest supporter. He jogged over and pulled you into a tight hug. You kissed his cheek and hugged him close “Oscar, you did it! You were amazing. I’m so proud of you” you shouted over the noise. His first Formula one win. “Did you see what I did on the first corner?” he said, his eyes full of adrenaline. “Did I see? Dude, I was clutching the seat so hard I might’ve bruised my hand. I thought Carlos would push you off the track!”. You laughed, and he noticed the way your eyes shone with genuine pride. For a moment, he forgot about the cameras, the media - everything except that you were there, seeing him at his best. “Now go get weighted so we can celebrate!”. 

Later that evening a group sat at a table at the back of a busy restaurant. Oscar was surrounded by many people, his teammate, boss, engineers and friends. But most importantly you were sitting next to him. 

You raised your glass, he rolled his eyes knowing exactly what you were going to do. “To the guy who went from karting on Tuesdays to taking wins on Sundays”. He blushed slightly from embarrassment, maybe from the alcohol . “To the girl who always believed I’d get there - even when I didn’t” he said quietly before bumping your glass with his. 

A few months later, it was Oscar’s turn to sit in the front row, this time at a prestigious science conference. He was out of place among the suits and academics, but he didn’t care. He’d been waiting to see you shine, finally seeing all those years of hard work in action.

The room was filled with applause as you entered the stage after being introduced by the host. “Hello, thank you everyone” you said in a confident yet still a bit shaky voice. You glanced at Oscar as he gave you a big thumbs up and a huger smile. “So before I start, I can’t express how honored I am to be standing here. This has been my dream for the past eight years. I want to thank everyone here, for supporting, inspiring and helping me through this”. 

Throughout the presentation your eyes kept finding their way back to Oscar. Whenever you would get a bit too overwhelmed, the sight of him calmed your nerves. After the presentation Oscar gave you space as a flood of people gathered around you, eager to discuss your theories. You answered questions from a mix of young researchers, curious students, and seasoned scientists who all seemed genuinely intrigued by your work. 

You were talking with an elderly lady, a woman that has been your huge inspiration. “Thank you. It’s… honestly, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for people like you. Your work really inspired me.” You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you spoke, starstruck and a little shaky. She asked you a few questions and invited you to another convention. 

The woman tilted her head, glancing subtly in Oscar’s direction, who was leaning against the wall. “And, if I may say, it seems that someone else is equally inspired by you”. You blinked, following her gaze to where Oscar stood. He hadn’t noticed you looking, caught up in watching you in your element, a proud smile playing on his lips. You could see how much this meant to him - that he genuinely admired you, not just as his friend.

“Oh him, that’s just my best friend” you replied giggling a little. “Hold on to him,” the lady said gently, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s rare to find someone who believes in us as much as we believe in them” she paused for a moment glancing back at him “and stop by for a visit in my home in Uk, both of you”. 

Before you could respond the lady disappeared in the crowd. “Hey,” Oscar said, his voice soft as he reached your side. “How are you holding up?”.

“I’m good,” you replied, voice brightening as soon as he was close. “Still a bit… overwhelmed, but good. Did you, um, survive the science talk?”. He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I caught about 30% of it, which for me is a win. But I caught all the important stuff - like you absolutely crushing it up there”. Your heart gave a little flutter, his voice hitting you harder than you’d expected. “Thanks, Oscar. It… it really helped having you here”. He looked down at you, his expression softening. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Seeing you up there… I’m just so proud of you, you know?”.

You let out a deep breath, feeling some of the tension melt away as you watched the lady. “I can’t believe she was here,” you whispered, still awestruck, “She’s, like, my hero”. Oscar chuckled, nudging your shoulder. “I get it, really. I feel the same way every time you’re at a race. Just… ridiculously lucky to have you on my side”. 

You smiled up at him, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I’m the lucky one, Oscar. Thank you for being here. For everything, really.”

He didn’t answer right away, just watched you, his gaze steady and warm. “I’ll always be here”. 

… a few months later … 

“It’s a nice place,” Oscar said, parking his car. As you two walked up to the ivy-covered cottage hand-in-hand, he gave your fingers a squeeze, a familiar sparkle in his eye. “Think she’s going to guess right away?” he whispered, as if afraid to break the quiet charm of the place. You nudged him, smiling. “Of course, she noticed something between us before we even did”. He chuckled softly. “Guess that’s fair”. 

Before you could knock, the door swung open, revealing an old lady with a warm, welcoming smile. “There you are! I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost”. You and Oscar exchanged a sheepish look before following her inside.

Her home was cozy and filled with books, artifacts, and stacks of research papers - a testament to her lifelong dedication to science. She led you to a sitting room where a tea set and a tray of scones were waiting.

“So,” she began, settling herself comfortably into an armchair and pouring each of you a cup, “Tell me, how have the two of you been?”. “We’ve been great,” you began, accepting the delicate teacup she handed you. “It’s been busy, as usual, but… a good kind of busy”. The lady nodded,  “I imagine you’ve been wrapped up in your research, my dear. And you, young man - what line of work are you in?”. 

Oscar glanced at you, suppressing a grin. “I’m, uh… I’m a racing driver”. Her brows lifted in pleasant surprise. “Racing? Goodness, that’s a bit different from the world of science, isn’t it?”. He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Just a bit. I race in Formula One, actually”. 

Her eyes widened, a mixture of fascination and amusement flashing across her face. “Formula One! How thrilling. I’ve read about it - those cars going at breathtaking speeds. I can’t say I know much about it, but I can imagine that must be… well, exhausting.”. Oscar nodded, his voice softening as he replied, “It is, it’s intense, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. It’s taken me all over the world and I’m lucky enough to have had this one,” he said, glancing at you, “supporting me every step of the way”.

“And actually… there’s something else we wanted to tell you”.  Her  smile widened knowingly, and she leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Oh? Do tell,” her voice with a hint of irony. 

Oscar’s cheeks colored just slightly, but he held your hand firmly. “Well… we’re together. As in, officially”. She clasped her hands together, her expression delighted. “Oh, how wonderful! I could tell there was something between you two from the moment I saw you at the conference. And now you’ve finally seen it yourselves, too”. 

You both laughed. It was true, if it hadn’t been for her perceptive nudge, perhaps you would have taken even longer to realize what everyone else seemed to see so clearly. “Thank you,” you said, smiling. “You were right, back at the conference. He’s been by my side for as long as I can remember”. 

“Likewise,” Oscar added, his voice gentle. “She’s my biggest supporter. My constant”.

“Hold onto that. Life has a way of throwing surprises our way, but the strength you two share will see you through anything.”

The three of you sat for hours, talking about life, love, and work. The evening felt timeless as laughter and stories filled the air, connecting the three of you in a way that felt like family. When it was finally time to leave, she walked you both to the door, wrapping you in a heartfelt embrace.

“Promise me you’ll visit again soon,” she said, her voice filled with affection. “And don’t forget, no matter where life takes you, you’ll always have a place here”. 

“We promise,” Oscar said, squeezing her hand. “Thank you”.

As you and Oscar walked back under the starry sky, he slipped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “So… we’re officially a ‘we’ now, huh?” you asked.

He laughed as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Looks like it. Think you can handle it?”.

You grinned feeling his lips on your forehead. “I think I can. As long as I’ve got you beside me”.

November 4, 2024

[p0orbaby]

Blurb - Leah/reader either watching a football or rugby game with her family but you’re Scottish so Leah keeps winding you up. Then Scotland win & reader has the last laugh 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

ngl this was quite painful for me to write as i am, in fact, not scottish… but here we are

-

The living room smells like beer, crisps, and something your mum burned in the kitchen that she swears is still edible. Leah’s sitting on the sofa, surrounded by your family, smug as anything in an oversized England rugby shirt. You’re in your Scotland top, arms crossed, already regretting inviting her to this.

“Bit optimistic, isn’t it?” she says, nodding at your jersey.

“It’s called patriotism,” you reply, grabbing a handful of crisps.

“It’s called wishful thinking,” she counters, her grin widening as your brother laughs a little too loudly from his armchair. Traitor.

The match kicks off, and Leah is immediately insufferable. She’s shouting advice at the England players like they can hear her, arms flailing dramatically every time someone misses a tackle.

“Textbook,” she says smugly after England score the first try, reclining back like she’s the one who orchestrated it.

“Lucky,” you mutter, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Not luck, babe,” she says, leaning in close enough that you can smell her shampoo. “Skill”

Your mum, ever the diplomat, asks Leah if she wants another drink. You silently beg her not to, but it’s no use. Leah’s now fuelled by lager and her own self-satisfaction.

When Scotland finally score a try, you leap off the sofa, fists in the air.

Leah doesn’t even flinch. “Oh, calm down. One try doesn’t make a match.”

“It’s one more than you expected,” you fire back, flopping onto the sofa with an unnecessary amount of bounce just to jostle her.

The game gets tense—fumbles, penalties, a couple of dodgy referee decisions that your dad won’t stop ranting about. Leah’s still giving you grief, muttering under her breath every time England get possession.

“You’re awfully quiet,” she says at one point, smirking.

“Just waiting for the right moment,” you reply, not looking away from the screen.

And then it happens. Scotland break through the England defence with a clean, beautiful run. It’s poetry in motion, a sight to behold. Your brother yells. Your dad claps so hard you think he might dislocate something.

You? You turn to Leah, grinning like a maniac. “What was that about wishful thinking?”

She doesn’t answer, staring at the screen in disbelief as the Scots pile on top of each other in celebration.

“Oh, what’s wrong, babe?” you say, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Not as confident now, are we?”

She scowls but doesn’t rise to the bait, which only makes your victory sweeter.

When the final whistle blows, signalling Scotland’s win, you’re on your feet again, yelling like you’ve personally won the Six Nations. Leah stays seated, arms crossed, sulking in a way that’s almost cute.

“Good game,” your dad says, clapping her on the shoulder as he heads to the kitchen. “Better luck next time”

Leah shoots you a look as if to say traitor, but you just grin.

“Cheer up,” you say, plopping down beside her and throwing an arm around her shoulders. “There’s always next year”

“Don’t,” she warns, but there’s no real venom in it.

You kiss her cheek, the tiniest bit smug. “Love you”

“Mm-hmm,” she mutters, stealing the remote and putting on Match of the Day.

It’s not a total loss for her—she did manage to polish off most of the crisps—but you savour every second of her pout. Victory tastes better when it’s Scotland’s.

[the-dubstep-strawberry]

[suzukiblu]

Do you read much fic yourself? and if u do, do u have any recs?

I kinda read fic in fits and starts, to be honest? Like it ebbs and it flows, pretty much, hah. So sometimes I read a TON of it and sometimes I pretty much don't read any at all. So like, currently not really, but previously enough that I def DO have recs, haha.

Not an exhaustive list of my faves, just some random Good Ones I can think of off the top of my head ( all some variant of DC or DPxDC ).

( also def read the tags on these, there's def some tags on a few of them that at least some people would wanna know about before reading. )

Catching Icarus by Fantasyfire ( YJA!Conner gets Super-adopted, interdimensionally-speaking. Fully the inspo for that "the last son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon" WIP of mine, for the record. )

I Want It That Way by WynterSky ( Tim/Kon but make it 90's and also an emotional rollercoaster. )

Stress Relief by daemoninwhite [ nsfw ] ( Kon goes to a sex club in space for some free-use/stuck-in-wall-style stress relief and gets exactly what he wants. )

Jasmine Luthor by Die_Erlkonigin6083 ( Jazz finds out her biodad is Lex Luthor and literally does not care until she finds out CONNER Luthor exists. )

The Unnecessarily Dramatic Death of One Jasmine Fenton by Rowan_the_Escapist ( Jazz and Jason meet at a party and it all goes to shit pretty quick. fyi I will chew on this worldbuilding and also this version of Jazz/Jason until I ALSO die. )

Lazy Sunday by Faeriekit [ nsfw ] ( . . . I did not think I'd be so into Jason/Tucker but uhhhhh turns out I'm real into Jason/Tucker and especially into Jason getting consensually hypnotized into a househusband while absolutely desperate for his boyfriend Dom to fuck him, go fig!! )

The French Mistake by Vamillepudding ( The wrong Bruce is in this reality but he's a much better dad than the right one, so is that really a problem?? )

Buy One, Get One by iselsis ( Incubus!Jason gets rescued/surprise-adopted by Batman and then tries to figure out if it's safe to ask Bruce to save his succubus!mom from his shitty dad. )

Catherine/Bruce Medieval AU by iselsis and PotatoLady ( I am not emotionally well about this whole entire concept, hahaha. Omegaverse medieval AU where Bruce beats Willis in a fight and therefore wins whatever belongs to him. Which in this scenario includes Catherine and Jason. )

bystander by greeneyedfirework ( Batfam omegaverse where alpha!Jason finds a messed-up Robin!Dick in heat and it is a Problem(tm). One of the specific genre of omegaverse-Robins-in-distress that was inspo for the "Robin gets nested" WIP. )

Eyes Like Kryptonite by dragonez ( Lena Luthor gets a strange Kryptonian on her balcony who doesn't know if he's from an alternate reality or time-travelling and wants specifically HER help. Kara/Lena. )

your ghost i will gladly bear by merils ( Interdimensional Timkon featuring two Robins on a rooftop while they're both dead. THIS CONCEPT, I LOVE IT. )

This isn't how things are supposed to go. But we've always been unorthodox. by RenkonNairu ( Please and thank you for this slightly niche and highly interesting omegaverse take including omega!Kon, bless. Also Tim/Kon and Bruce/Clark, accidental and deliberate and deliberately-AVOIDED bonding, and the shitty version of Lex/Clark. )

Fairy Godbrother by envysparkler ( Batbrothers accidentally-on-purpose decide to meddle in another reality's version of themselves in quick succession, or over the course of several years, depending on how you timestream it. )

. . . . . . like, just go check out thebodydies and Briarwitched, I cannot effectively narrow down the options there, haha, just gooooo.

[daily-smol-silm]

Day #138 - Disconcerting

Maedhros does not want to be involved.

[lotus-acid-trip]

hi! I hope you don’t mind me asking but may I request a Telemachus x fem reader where when ody returns and is being made fun of by the suitors while still in this begger disguise yn starts fighting off the suitors and yelling at them for being rude and maybe later joins ody while he is hunting them down and Telemachus has a love sick look while watching yn just like ody did for Penelope back when they were younger before he married her and after seeing how cool and awesome of a warrior yn is later ody turns to his son and says “I aprove of this one 😏” and poor Telemachus is just like 😳 all flustered and adorable what can I say Telemachus is a sweetie 🥰

feel free to ignore if you want to hope you have a good rest of your day thank you ☺️

“I approve of this one.”

Telemachus x Reader

[Epic The Musical]

oneshot

fluff

This is my first proper romantic reader insert fic, so I hope you enjoy!

Odysseus sat at the entrance of the courtyard under the shade of a large olive tree as he silently observed the numerous suitors scattered across the courtyard in idle chatter. Is this really what had become of his home while he was gone? It was baffling just how ungrateful and disrespectful all these guests were. He worried for the state of his palace after being infested with all these unwelcome guests for so many years. It must have been so difficult on Penelope and Telemachus to deal with all of them, having to feed and house them along with dealing with their pitiful attempts at courting his wife. It was a wonder why the suitors still haven’t been driven out by Telemachus yet.

His hand fiddled with the small wooden bowl in his hands. Odysseus was disguised as an old beggar, but as much as he wanted to reveal himself right then and there he needed to be patient and play it smart. He didn’t have anything other than an old knife hidden in his clothes to defend himself with and he was probably lacking a lot of proper nutrients and sustenance after being out at sea for so long with food of limited quality and quantity. If he were to fight all these suitors right now, he was sure to fail. Not only do they have an advantage in numbers, it was obvious they were well fed, and all the used training equipment seen around the palace was all he needed to know the suitors could fight. If Odysseus wanted to win, he needed to stick to the plan, which meant playing his part as an old beggar.

A suitor passed by him devouring a chicken leg and he held out his bowl to him. It would be a good opportunity to not only learn more about the state of his palace and family, but to also know just what his family has been up to in the past years. “Would you care to spare a bit of food for this old man?” The suitor tilted his head to look down at Odysseus for a moment before raising a brow. “And what exactly is this homeless old man doing in a palace like this? Surely your life hasn’t fallen so far into poverty that you’d go scrounging for scraps in the homes of royalty.” He leaned back against the tree, hands crossing over his legs. “Well, that wasn’t exactly my plan. I was just walking by but with the heat of the sun and with a body as frail and weak as mine, I just had to take a break under the shade of this mighty tree. I was always curious of what happened in the lives of royalty anyway.” He said as he looked up at the leaves and branches. He remembers planting it so many years ago to see how to take care of an olive tree as preparation for making his and Penelope’s marital bed. It's grown so much since then, and he wonders just how much Telemachus has as well. “Well, since you have so much spare time to just wander around doing nothing, why don’t you bring us all a meal or two, all the way from inside the palace’s pantry. You want some food? Work for it, old man.”

Odysseus raised a hand waving off the offer. “Ah, but there might be one small problem. I am just an old beggar, remember? I don’t know anything of the layout of the palace. I’m sorry, but I must decline. Can’t you just ask a servant to help you instead?” The suitor seemed to get irritated at his reply. “Ha! Yeah right, those servants can barely do anything right. They never bring the food on time and always seem to be short on stock. Not even their pathetic prince seems to know what he’s doing.” He stared at the suitor judgmentally. “ ‘Pathetic prince’ you say? Bold words for someone who’s staying in his palace.” The suitor looked at him as if he had just said something audacious instead of common sense. “Listen old man, we’re the guests here, not them. Do you not understand basic hospitality?” Odysseus narrowed his eyes at the suitor. He knew his palace, his servants and the workforce in it. They aren’t lazy or incompetent, if they were they wouldn’t be serving his family. Not to mention, if there wasn’t enough livestock there were plenty of skilled hunters and hunting dogs to accompany them. His memories of old hunts with Argos and others were more than enough proof of that.

“Of course I do. Perhaps instead of trying to defend your impudence against the prince, you could put away your prideful hurbis for a moment and just lend me even an inch of the food you already have on you. For someone relying on the shared hospitality of someone else for their own comfort, you sure don’t seem to be able to do the same.” The suitor’s bored annoyance quickly morphed into thinly veiled anger. “Listen you old derelict, need I remind you that this is not your courtyard you are resting in? This is not your abode and I do not tolerate your insults. For someone who seems to preach so strongly for returning hospitality, you don’t seem too keen on basic respect.” Odysseus hid his amusement at the irony with indifference. “Although that may be true, last I checked this isn’t your home either.” That statement alone seemed to be enough to push him over the edge into full blown rage. Odysseus jumped away from the suitor’s flying fist as it hit the trunk of the tree where his head used to be. “You know, for someone so insistent on how they have difficulty doing physical activities you’re awfully quick to move.” The suitor began to walk towards him, his larger form towering over him and casting a shadow that engulfed Odysseus’s entire form. “Listen here old man. If you think you can just run off after that impudence, your mind must be as deteriorated as your age.” Odysseus continued to back up, hand immediately searching for the knife he hid. A chill crept up his spine when his back hit something. Turning around, it was another suitor, the others beginning to close in on him. Fuck, he messed up. The suitor he first talked to grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him up to his face so Odysseus could face him. “Now, I think it's time that you finally learned a long needed lesson on hospitality and what happens when you don’t respect your host-“

“Hey! What the hell is all this racket?” Odysseus never turned his head away from the suitor, but averted his gaze towards the newcomer. A woman emerged from inside the palace and stared at the scene before her in a moment of silence before her once confused gaze immediately morphed into an infuriated wrath that could rival the suitor’s own rage. “Antinous, what do you think you’re doing! Gods above and below, has no one ever taught you to respect your elders?” She marched on towards the both of them, unshaken by any visible fear at the obvious violent intent of the suitors. She gripped the suitor’s, now known as Antinous, wrist and forcefully yanked it away from him, letting Odysseus fall to the ground. Antinous opened his mouth, ready to yell at her but the woman cut him off as she glared coldly at him. “The queen is watching us.” She said as she stared into the suitors eyes as if daring him to try anything. The mention of Penelope is all he needed to whip his head towards the balcony he knows she always loved to use to watch the courtyard. And there she was, elegant and poised, watching with a composed face as she always does. He could see how she’s changed from when he last saw her, the small streaks of white in her hair that weren’t there before, the wrinkles and tired eyes. But he didn’t care, for it was his Penelope, and Odysseus felt like he was falling in love all over again.

Penelope observed them silently, looking at each person one by one before her eyes eventually met his. For a moment, it felt like time froze and they did nothing but stare at each other. It was like the world itself was holding its breath. It was the smallest difference in her eyes that made his chest swell with warmth. Those indifferent calculated eyes that always seemed to be studying every little detail softened for a moment, her composed face faltering for a split millisecond to look at him with the same eyes that looked at him with so much affection and appreciation when he told her how he’d tackle the challenge she gave him. The tension in the air was so thick, yet only he could feel it… and maybe she did as well. Logically, Odysseus knew that they had only been looking at each other for a mere few seconds, but it felt like he was staring for an eternity at something so close yet so far. And Penelope did nothing else but silently stare back. She shifted her position, pulling away from the scene and returning back inside. Odysseus let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. It felt like time suddenly began moving once more when it had always been flowing, falling through his fingers like flowing water with no hope of holding on to it.

“Antinous, if you do not explain to me what exactly you were doing I can and will tell Penelope.” The woman said as she walked in front Odysseus, who’s gaze still lingered on the balcony for another moment before returning to look at the suitors and the new woman. Antinous sneered. “And why should I? Your family may be up there in terms of status, but you’re nowhere near close to me.” He sneered. “And? Do you think I care? You already showed just how petty you get because someone bruised your fragile ego. I still haven’t forgiven you for the fight with Telemachus.” The woman took a step forward towards the suitor, but he didn’t move. “And? The boy started it.” Another step forward and another rise in tension. “Who exactly called his mother a tramp? That’s right, you.” Another step forward until she was right in front of him. At this point even more suitors began to crowd around them to see what was happening, and Odysseus dreaded a physical fight would break out.

“Well then, since you seem so keen on berating me for teaching the little wolf a lesson, why don’t I give you an opportunity to even out the scales?” Antinous’s fist met the woman’s face, sending her stumbling back. She regained her balance before gently touching her face, a bruise forming on her right cheek. Whispers and murmurs emanated from the crows as it grew larger, more suitors joining the audience and a few servants discreetly watching from the sidelines. She looked at her own blood smeared against her fingers before turning her attention towards Antinous. “I gladly accept.” She ran forward, fist aimed at Antinous’s face. The suitor held his forearm up to block it, only for her to twist her foot, turning around to kick him from behind without her fist ever making contact with him. Antinous was pushed forward a step from the force of the kick, but quickly recovered, turning around to grab her by the leg she used to kick him. The crowd around them began cheering as he pulled her forward into another punch, which was blocked by her own forearms, now also bruised. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a headbutt, unable to dodge or move away because of their position.

The sound of a wooden bowl hitting Antinous’s head caused all sound to cease, the silence deafening as everyone’s heads turned to look at the source of the bowl. Antinous glared at Odysseus, who was hiding his grip on his knife in his oversized clothes. Antinous let go of the woman who fell on the floor, wincing at her bruises. Odysseus’s grip on his knife tightened as he took a step forward towards him. He opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off by a young voice. “Stop! What’s going on he- [NAME]!” A young boy shoved his way through the crowd and into the clearing that formed around the olive tree, rushing towards the side of the young woman. He kneeled beside her as he assessed her wounds. Antinous crossed his arms in annoyance as the young boy began to ceaselessly fuss over her. Odysseus stared at the boy, he could recognize those eyes from anywhere. “[name], are you okay? What happened?”

“Tele, I’m fine. It's just a few bruises, I’m not an old frail man.” She said as she sharply turned to look at Antinous. “Unlike the person a certain someone was harassing.” Odysseus stared at the young man- no, his son. No wonder he looked so familiar. He had his mother’s eyes and the same fair skin as her, but the face and hair of his own. His head was reeling, it had been so long since he’d seen his young boy. He was all grown up now, grown through all those special moments in his life Odysseus would never be able to experience. Gods, he missed his first hunt, his first training session, he missed being able to teach his son all the things he promised he’d pass on from his mentorship under Athena. But now Telemachus was right there, but he still couldn’t teach him all the things he wasn’t able to.

Antinous looked at all three of them one by one, from Odysseus to Telemachus in increasing disgust. “I’ve had enough of this, the way both of you act around each other is nauseating.” He said as he left the courtyard and into the building. Telemachus helped [name] up and she turned to look at Odysseus. “I am so sorry for all this. My intent was only to help you get that pig off your back,” She said as she looked at the direction Antinous left in with so much disgust it almost gave Odysseus whiplash from her original apologetic tone. “but it seems my impulsiveness got the better of me. Usually I try not to cause fights but I’m not exactly the best at not doing that.” She said shamefully. “Oh please, it's quite alright. I understand what it’s like. Sometimes, when you’re in the heat of the moment, your emotions cloud your judgement and you’re so focused on doing what you think’s right that… you don’t realize the consequences that might follow.” He said with a wistful smile. “I really have no idea what happened, but I apologize either way. Please, have this for your troubles.” Telemachus said as he handed him money, before cutting through the crowd to probably lead [name] to get healed. Odysseus stared at the coins placed in his hand, it was enough to buy him a whole house.

……………………………………………………

……………………………………………………

The metallic stench of blood filled your nose as you walked across the wet floor, the red liquid staining your sandals. The faint light of the torches could barely illuminate the dark room, the moon’s light nowhere to be seen through the windows. What little the light did show was nothing but puddles of blood and the faint outline of bodies. Right there, at the end of the room were twelve axes that were originally supposed to be used for the challenge queen Penelope made for her suitors. It didn’t take long for you to hear about what went wrong, and it took even shorter for you to make your way here. You grabbed one of the axes, testing its weight as you gave it a few experimental swings. The silence of the challenge room was so quiet you could hear your own wet footsteps echo as you tested the axe. You internally facepalmed as you looked down at your weapon, realizing just how little you thought this through. You had no plan in mind, you just heard that Telemachus was also fighting and just had to join. The idea of fighting alongside him was exhilarating, and meeting his father, king Odysseus and master tactician that won the war? You didn’t really think too hard on your decision to join. As much as you hated to admit it, Telemachus and your father were right. You really needed to think things through more. 

Your body tensed when you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the room, your grip on your axe tightening. Well, if you were good at one thing, it was brazenly charging into battle. You readied your stance, prepared for a fight. Since you weren’t able to kill Antinous, you’ll have to settle for killing the suitor first. The moment the bright light of a torch rounded the corner of the entryway, you charged forward, swinging your axe towards their head. Being on the other side of the room, they had plenty of time to jump out of your way. Now, you were at the entrance and they were trapped inside the room. Their torch illuminated their face and you took a moment to look at them. Eurymachus, the cowardly one. “Hey, [name], let us talk about this! I never once went out of my way to hurt you nor Telemachus, I always payed my due respects to her majesty. It was Antinous that-“

“Lead you and your fellow scum in the plan to execute my betrothed in secret.” You said with a sneer, throwing the axe at his head. It flew past the torch, the push of wind blowing it out as the man in front of you fell to the floor. He met the floor with a loud thump, his remains now nothing but another body in the landscape of corpses in the room. You moved to pull the axe out of his head with more aggression than needed before leaving. His words irritated you to no end, the man was nothing but an idle fool who made the choice of inaction. Never once did he try to stop his fellow suitors from tormenting Telemachus, never once has he tried to lessen all the resources they waste, never once did he leave when Telemachus ordered them. None of them did.

You let out a sigh as you walked through the hallways. Where exactly was Telemachus? And where was Odysseus? They most likely passed through this area already, if the bodies everywhere said anything. The father son duo was probably closer to the courtyards of the palace outside where the suitors must have fled towards. Either that or the pack of meatheads ran towards their weapon supply. You guessed it was the latter and promptly made your way through the familiar halls, passing by familiar faces on the floor that will never be missed. Surprisingly enough you couldn’t find any signs of struggle during battle. Nothing but the light of torches fallen on the floor could light up the scene, the moon and stars never daring to gaze upon the massacre. Bodies upon bodies were piled up in a gruesome display of vengeance with a vile stench that made your nose wrinkle in disgust, and yet each and every one of them only had an arrow to the head or chest to blame for their demise. No bruising nor cuts of a blade, only a lone arrow on each suitor. It was only after a long time of walking did the bodies slowly lessen in numbers, but still remained ever present. A silent reminder of the ruthless monster that lurked in these dark halls.

Your head turned towards the sound of metal blade against metal blade just to your right. Carefully peeking over the edge, your eyes widened at the sight of Telemachus fighting a suitor on his own. The light of a fallen torch reflected the glint of a knife in the darkness. Your grip on your axe tightened and you swung at the knife wielder without hesitation. The suitor’s screams were drowned by his own blood pouring out of his mouth, your axe lodged into his throat. Looking behind you, a surprised suitor was stabbed from behind, his blood coating the rest of the blade that pierced through him. The sword was pulled out and the suitor fell to the floor, revealing Telemachus behind him. “[name]? What are you doing here?” He asked as he looked around as if worried anyone might be eavesdropping. “Did you really think word of your suitor hunt wouldn’t get out? Tele, the entire palace could hear the screams of terror.” You replied as you rested your axe on your shoulder. “Of course I didn’t think we’d be able to hide a mass genocide! What I’m asking is why you came here after learning about a giant fight-“ He paused mid sentence, and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was staring at you with the most unimpressed expression you’ll ever see. You barely tried to hide your amused snickering as he rolled his eyes at you. “You know what? I retract my statement. The fight was all the reason you needed to come here, wasn’t it.” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Actually, not really. At least, it wasn’t the only reason.” You said you stared directly into his eyes that reflected the ever dancing light of the torch. The flame flickered, going from bright to dark and back within seconds. You could barely see Telemachus, but you poured every bit of attention you had into listening to Telemachus go from unamused to curious. “Really? Then what was it?” He asked as you smiled. “I’m looking right at it.” Telemachus looked around once more, but this time to find what you were staring directly at rather than look for hidden dangers. “Wha? But the only thing you’re looking at is… Oh.” You didn’t even try to hide your amusement this time, bursting out into a fit of howling laughter at his flushed face. “Really? Do you have to tease me even in the middle of battle?” You shoved your face right in front of his, mere inches away. “Yeah, cause you haven’t told me to stop yet.”

“Euryalus, he locked the rest of our weapons in one of the rooms! These are the only ones we have, none of us could open it up-“ Telemachus looked towards the group of new suitors, who immediately drew their weapons at the sight of the both of you. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath, you were kinda having a moment here. With much annoyance your stance changed from relaxed and playful with your axe on your shoulder, to a defensive battle stance with your weapon at the ready. Even with Telemachus, you could only handle so many suitors. “Hey Tele, remember what I told you about hunting wild hogs?” You asked as he looked at you incredulously. “Aim for the area around the shoulder or the head? [name], what does this have to do with anything-“ You cut him off with a mischievous grin barely lit by the torch. “Exactly. I suggest you aim for the chest since you’re too short for their heads.” You could practically see the gears turning in his head before he opened his mouth in a baffled offense.

You charged forwards to the four suitors, stepping on the torch and putting it out as you ran. You moved to the side of the group and swung your axe at the outermost member. He blocked your axe, and at the same time you heard the clash of metal from the other side of the group. You could barely see anything, but you recognized the silhouette of Telemachus fighting off the other two suitors. Another suitor came up from behind the one in front of you to aim his sword at your side. You pushed the sword blocking your axe downwards to block the other suitor’s sword, before pushing both of them off. Spinning around, you hit the head of the first suitor you attacked with your axe, killing them. The sight of another sword in the corner of your eye made your breath hitch, it was far too close for you to move away and turn around to block. You still tried to pull up your axe to block it, and a spray of blood passed by your view. By the time you were fully turned around to face your attacker, they were clutching their hand in pain. Or more like their lack of one. In front of you stood Telemachus, sword in hand as he charged forward, stabbing the suitor in their chest while they were writhing in pain. “[name], what did I say about minding your surroundings!” Telemachus said concerned as the suitor died and joined the rest of them on the floor. “Hey, it turned out okay in the end. He’s dead and I’m alive, I’ll be fine-“

A large thud behind you made you jump, and you slowly turned around with your axe held up. “You know, my son is right. If neither of us were here, you’d be another body on the floor.” You blinked and stared at the man before you. “Father!” Telemachus gasped from behind you. Oh. OH. “Odysseus?” You asked bewildered. He was a lot shorter than you expected. Now you know why Telemachus was shorter than all the men his age and you while his mother still towered over everyone in the room. He nodded with a gentle smile. “And you’re the [name] my son has so fondly told me about.” He said as he drew back his bow. You looked back at Telemachus and you both made eye contact, before you looked at Odysseus. “Wait, what? He talks about me? Wait, what did he say? Tele, you better not have told your father about the sand incident.” You heard him stifle a small chuckle, and you whipped around to gasp at him with all the exasperation you could manage. “You did not!”

“I did.” He said unapologetically. You stared at him in betrayal, jaw dropped before turning back to Odysseus. “Hey, your majesty, did you know that before I got with your son he trained Argos to run at me so he could pretend like he accidentally let him loose to make an opportunity to talk with mMMFFF!” Telemachus slapped his hand onto your mouth as you struggled against his arm. “I did not do that, she’s lying.” He said indignantly as Odysseus stared at the two of you amused. You shoved at Telemachus’s wrist while you both physically struggled against each other. You saw him eyeing your hand on his wrist and you looked at him sternly. “Don’t you even dare- OW!” The madlad bit your hand and you pulled away from him, your bodies detaching from one another. “You menace.” You said as he shoved his face into yours, mere inches away like you were mere moments ago. For a moment, he just stared at you and you stared back at him. It was like all the emotional intensity that was interrupted before was returning full force, a shameless rush of affection like a raging river. You’ve always been told by Penelope that there were moments between her and Odysseus that felt like time stopped, when they looked into their eyes and saw love for eternity in each other. But right now, you felt nothing close to that. It was like time was rushing past you with no end, quick and intense. Every small detail blurred together into Telemachus, and in his eyes you saw the life you have right now.

“Telemachus, I know little to nothing about you, and even less about [name], but I see the same love I have for your mother in you, and I see the same love Penelope has for me in [name].” You both stared at him, hands that had intertwined subconsciously squeezing tightly. Telemachus looked over to you, and once again you saw not just your life in his eyes, but yours and his. “I approve of this one.” Your lover blinked in sync with you. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said how much you loved it when she stood up for you before you got the courage to fight Antinous?” Telemachus stared at his father and after a beat of silence, screeched with embarrassment. “FATHER, DON’T-“ You looked at Odysseus with a devious grin, and began to explain every single Argos incident while Telemachus hid his face in your neck.

[cookieloveranddaydreamer]

In Germany they would go to court an win the case. I am pretty sure. Why I am pretty sure?

First: I am a goverment worker. Second: I have dealt with cases were we applied the law correctly and still somewhat lost the case. Why?

Because nowadays you just need to threat to take a lawyer and the bosses get quick, 2nd step of getting your will is make as much noise as you can. You do not have to be right, just call the boss of the boss of the boss ... and you get served immidiately because all bosses want their peace and from their point of view have no time for "your bullshit". So they pressure their workers to serve you before others, even if the others were meant to be served first.

Third step is: Call the press. If you didn't get your will now, that is a high sign that you are either in the wrong or that they are convinced that you are wrong or overconfident (gov-workers are people too, so of course they also have those feelings).

4th step: now drag them to court. If you did not win then, drag them to the higher court and so on. If you then lost, current law was enforced correctly on you. If that law is in itself better to be different was no question in the matter. But often, like in social law, so called judges law (Richterrecht) means a lot and has weight to change stuff.

I am giving this advice not to belittle the example named here but to give you a way to react in the state of Germany or maybe even in general. Maybe it helps someone. Believe me it works.

And, as a gov-worker, I can not overemphazie how important it is to check everything always. Check your data, check everything! And especially check birth and marriage certificates, passportes etc.! !!! Faults happen. Be aware.

A newborn baby girl will have to go through life with the wrong sex on her birth certificate after a registrar’s error, which her parents have been told they cannot change. Grace Bingham and her partner, Ewan Murray, were excited to register their first child at the Sutton-in-Ashfield Registration Office in Nottinghamshire last week. But, after nights of broken sleep, they failed to notice the registrar had written the wrong sex on the birth certificate until after it had been submitted. “We were horrified but assumed that, as we saw the mistake just a few seconds after it had happened, correcting it would be an easy matter,” said Murray. “But although the registrar apologised for her mistake – and the area manager also apologised – it turns out that birth certificates can’t be changed.”

this article is interesting because it demonstrates that cis people can very easily apply structural thinking to sex assignment - this couple immediately identifies that their daughter, having mistakenly been assigned male at birth by the registrar, will have administrative problems in employment, education, travel, and so on. they pretty adeptly identify the foundational role that sex assignment plays in the administrative and civil functions of a state, and how incorrect sex markers effectively produce a ‘rational’ reason for discrimination within these administrative and civil arenas:

The General Register Office (GRO), which is responsible for administering all civil registration in England and Wales, and the Home Office have both confirmed that Lilah’s birth certificate cannot be reissued, although an amendment can be made in the margin of the original document. But Bingham said this is not enough. “People reading a birth certificate might easily miss a tiny note in the margin – which means that Lilah could be regarded as male when she applies for school, her passport, for jobs – for everything that she needs a full birth certificate for.”

And given that this was published in The Guardian, this article makes zero mention as to why it’s impossible for this couple to receive an updated birth certificate with correct information (something the author notes was possible to do a year ago), but the reason is obviously transphobia. 

Now one might ask why there’s no exception for cis people whose birth certificates were recorded incorrectly at birth, but this reveals the instability of cissexualism. How would you determine who is a cis person with a mistaken birth certificate, versus a trans person who wants to change their mistaken sex assignment record? Sure, you could say well, this is an infant, of course she’s “really” “biologically” female (something the parents argue in the article as grounds for having their child’s birth certificate re-issued), but 1) that certainly can’t be argued for in all cases, 2) 'biological sex' is understood by medical doctors as alterable through hormones and surgery, which trans people are often required to undergo in order to change their records, and 3) binary sex assignment is already imprecise and discretionary, particularly if infants have sex characteristics that don’t conform to binary F/M assignment standards (which is part of how the category of intersex emerges, framing this failure to conform to state census categories as a biological defect - and in fact, many intersex people do not discover they are intersex until the onset of puberty or later, at which point they are even less in luck if they want to change their sex assignment - and if they don’t, if they are cis but have sex characteristics that do not conform to cis standards, they will be discriminated against anyway). 

Even setting aside the issue of transgender and intersex people for a moment, states fuck up all the time in administration! you've probably either experienced this directly or know someone who's had some kind of record fucked up by the government at some point in their life. If you get married they could fuck up changing your last name, fuck up your disability status, record your social insurance number wrong, print the wrong address on your driver’s license, fail to acknowledge you as a dependent when filing taxes, incorrectly mark you as having graduated when you’re still a student, fuck up your immigration paperwork, record your name wrong during immigration, etc etc into infinity, and this is not even getting into errors that occur when different levels of government pass information between one another. This level of administrative rigidity is purely to punish people who fail to perform cissexualism correctly, and in the case of this couple's child, the administrative error of the state is imputed to them as a personal failure that she and her parents will now have to deal with for the rest of their lives. 

I think the ultimate analysis is not that transphobia will become less precise and hit more "wrong" targets as it expands its reach, but that this is the exact same operational logic as all other liberal state measures - if you encounter a systemic issue, it’s your fault for not avoiding it, fuck you, go away. You’re poor because you’re lazy, you’re unhoused because you’re lazy, you’re disabled because you’re lazy, and your daughter is now administratively transsexual because you’re lazy. In this case, we don’t even need to assume the intentions of the state - they outright say it:

The family complained to the GRO but was told the mistake was their responsibility and could not be fully rectified. “The duty to ensure that information recorded in any particular entry is true is the responsibility of the person providing the information and not of the registrar general or the registrar recording the birth,” the GRO said.

[nuggetpool-hi]

Guess who watched X-Men origins again

OK SO I got THOUGHTS of this movie but specially Wade's fight style because it's really similar to our current Deadpool's fighting style... so yeah I wanna yap about that hi

WELL FIRST OF wanna talk a lil about Victor, Logan and Wade's different styles... from a mortal's view point I am no expert on this just insane about these movies and I need to write my thoughts or i'll explode

Starting with Victor!! the ultimate kittycat girlypop

I love his kitty self I'm sorry ANYWAY EXAMPLES

OKAY SO VICTOR. Victor's style is obviously very animalistic but also stylized, he makes the fight a show for himself! He likes to hunt and he tries to always give chase or play around a bit before the kill, just like a cat playing with his food!

AND IF you pay attention to the start of the movie, this game he's got with his target isn't initially how he fought, he kinda developed it as the years went by and the eviler he got the more he played with his food. The first few wars he goes to he's fighting like a human soldier, then you can see him slip up some animal jumps and uses his claws more until at the end he's full on predator chasing his prey (just like when he captures Scott, my god I love that scene he's terryfing)

AND A BIG DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIM AND LOGAN (that I will also talk about later I guess) is that with this play thing Victor has going on it SHOWS that he THINKS about the stragety when fighting, he's aware of his surroundings and his target's strenghs and weaknesses, he's good at coming up with solutions on the spot (see his fight with John, he can predict where he's going to teleport and catch him) and how to give a good chase without losing WHILE LOGAN WELL, at least in this movie he seems very lost when fighting?? he mostly just launches at his target and attacks, if the target runs away he chases, very animalistic but in a feral-based on instincts way... prolly why he coulnt win agaisnt Victor at first, because he was being blinded by his rage while Victor was quite literally playing with him lmao

ANYWAY LOGAN our favorite traumatized babygirl

and boy does he suffer in this one aughh EXAMPLES

Now you must be wondering why did I put the bathroom scene, well I feel like it represents Logan's general situation pretty well! (and its silly let me be), hes confused destroying everything and just keeps making it worse every time he tries to fix it.

The thing about Logan in this movie is that he's honestly just- confused and angry from the moment he killed his father, he runs away over and over again from EVERYTHING and he's constantly being manipulated BY EVERYONE!! Poor man has no idea what to do with himself of who he can actually trust but damn he tries, his enviroment is contantly changing and he's trying his best to adapt but he does it in a messy way.

The way he fights and acts in general is animalistic, yes, but more of the "scared dog attacks" kind of way, he's always acting on his instinct that it's mostly led by anger. When he fights he just throws himself and tries to slash whatever he can, he runs he hides and then when he gets the chance to he attacks again.

He constantly has little to no control of the situtation WHICH IS SPECIALLY SEEN pre-adamantium where he keeps losing to Victor because unlike him- he has no plan, he's being manipulated and kept blind of everything ON PURPOUSE which obviouly puts him in a disadvantage so yeah.

AFTER he gets the adamantium you can see his skills strengen with his knowledge, the more he lears about his situation the more focused he is and his fighting it's cleaner, he still moslty just launches himself head first into fights BUT he's not running away, he's able to evaluate his situation and adapt (See his fight with Gambit, he looks at him when running away and then destroys the stair so Gambit can't run away OR with Deadpool where he decides to gain height as a way to create the space needed to evaluate his enemy?? that one might be a lil bit of a stretch tho)

WADE WILSON THE ULTIMATE CUTIE PRINCESS

let's ignore how dirty they did him ok...

OKAY SO SADLY- The bullet scene is pretty much the only scene where we see him fight and it's honestly not enough to tell how his normal style is BUT I WILL SAY his general style is fancy to look at and scarily effective (which is mostly seen with our current Wade but you can see a bit in origins deadpool) he makes a show for everyone to see, which is also his stragedy to make himself even better at combat! He uses a lot of fancy movements and acrobatics that help him AND takes his enemies off-guard, confusing them as where they should attack or what he's going to hit?? anyway-

Comparison time yippieee THIS IS WHAT THIS POST IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT LMAO

I did not get side tracked idk what you mean.... and now seeing it over and over I'm realizing not that noticeable.... so it's just not that much to talk about oops

LOOK AT THIS WADE, LOOK AT THE MOVEMENTS HE DOES WITH HIS LEGS!! HIS HANDS??? THIS MAN IS SHOWING OFF he's using all kinds of acrobatics and fancy movements while fighting, he attacks with his hands and dodges using mostly his legs, he's using all he has!! and it's making Logan lose BECAUSE LOGAN CAN'T FOCUS!! specially since he's so "target locked will attack", Wade makes it SO HARD for him to focus on a pose long enough to actually stab him also Logan ain't too good at dodging, I'm guessing it could be because he heals? dunno

now what inmediately came to my mind upon rewatch was THIS scene (maybe because I saw it recently who knows)

THE SETTING IS SO SIMILAR!! Wade is using a lot of fancy movements to get up, dodge and attack all way too fast for Logan to process, once again Logan is looking everywhere confused about where to aim bc this silly red guy it's dancing on his face and he's struggling to keep up JUST LIKE IN ORIGINS except well he IS able to get a hit bahah

Dodges like crazy, jumps over Logan (he did in origins too) just moves a lot between every attack

Actually now that I think about it Wade feels a bit less effective in the car, like yes sure he's putting up a good fight but Logan still feels like he's leading it BECAUSE WADE IS MORE EFFECTIVE WHEN HE HAS MORE SPACE!! he likes to be able to move around and do gimnastics while Logan it's a lot better the closer he gets to his target so omg yeah... ALSO LIKE WADE STILL TRIES TO MOVE AROUND he shoves Logan away from him, he gets out of the car choking logan with a seatbelt and gets to the back, he tries to create space because that's where his speciality WHILE LOGAN keeps trying to get closer to have him in his power, which he gets to do since the car isn't allowing Wade to move as freely as he would want to...

AND YOU CAN SEE HIS FANCY MOVEMENTS WITH FRANCIS TOO he's constantly circuling him, dodging and spinning while Francis is just trying to get a hit, Wade keeps his enemies chasing him when he fight THAT'S the way he controls it and gets it wherever he wants aughh

ANYWAY YEAH I think that's it, don't really know how much sense any of this does since I've been writing it on-and off the whole day lmao it's so messy but yeah feel free to add onto it I'd love to see opinions on this wahoo

Might keep talking about stuff I find interesting in the movies bahah this has been funn

[bokutone]

˗ˏˋ MORNINGS WITH THEM ˎˊ˗

including: kita shinsuke, bokuto kōtarō, suna rintarō, kuroo tetsurō, iwaizumi hajime. genre/warnings: it's all fluff i think. a/n: i really want to start posting more things so pls feel welcome to drop suggestions on my asks hehe.

kita — your mornings start before the sun shines, your body feels the movement beside you when kita decides it’s time to start the day. the feeling of emptiness on the bed is enough to wake you up and join him in the kitchen, a soft peck on the lips, and a quiet “morning” greet you every day. while the sun rises above the sky and the soft light enters the room, you can feel the warmth in your chest because looking at the man you love cooking for you while the birds sing their first songs is the best way to start your day. 

bokuto — the usually loud voice of bokuto is calmer in the mornings, whispering a good morning while he hugs you and keeps you warm between his (beefy) arms is comforting in many ways; those moments at the start of the day are irreplaceable. soft hums of discomfort rumble under your ear, and the way he holds you tighter when you try to get up makes you giggle every day, it’s a routine, no matter how many days pass, mornings are always the same lovely fight. 

suna — mornings are lazy, with neither of you wanting to leave the bed, it’s kind of hard to start the day, but you’re always the first one to move. you struggle to get up when his arms are around you, the words “it should be a crime to get up” sound every morning at 7:40 am. you have to fight to get him up, but when he’s finally on his feet, you get yourself a child. he follows you to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, standing there waiting for the daily morning kiss you give him when breakfast is ready, and it’s just after that when your favorite middle blocker wakes up. 

kuroo — mornings with him are never the same, on the weekdays he’s usually the first one to wake up. with his arms hugging your waist and his lips leaving soft pecks on your face you open your eyes to see his face first thing in the morning. but on the weekends it is the other way around, your hands caressing his face, your voice murmuring a quiet “morning” when it is already noon is the first thing he loves to hear. breakfast in bed and movies as background sound for your weekly gossip session is something you love to have, and every morning is different, even though you’re both the same. iwaizumi— your mornings are comforting, neither of you is much of a morning person and that’s more than perfect. with a battle of rock, paper, scissors you decide who’s the one in charge of breakfast. he lets you win every time just to see your smile, and you pretend to not know that because you enjoy seeing him shirtless in the kitchen (and who doesn’t?). between laughs and smiles, a few kisses are exchanged, a few i love you’s are muttered and lots of love is visible in the comfort of your home. and so your day begins, with iwaizumi hajime by your side.

rbs and comments are really appreciated!

[catrasredemption]

Man this one hit hard.

My mom raised me pretty much by herself - she had her family helping, and technically I have a stepfather, but he was useless and the rest of her family had their own damn lives.

When I was in third grade, we learned about the American Revolution, and we did a little classroom play based on it about if the war was a baseball game (idk man, the 90s were weird). All the big people in the war were baseball players - Washington, Hamilton, etc. for the Americans, King George et. all for the British - and I forget who I was, but I was the person who hit the winning home run that gave Americans the game (I think I might have been Lafayette?).

Parents are invited to see the one-day play, which is in the middle of the day during school time. I get it, it's hard to get out of work. My grandparents were sick so they couldn't come. But my mother promised up and down, over and over, left and right, that she would absolutely be there. It was a really big deal to me, I'd never been in a play or had an event that needed to be attended. I was excited. I wanted my mom to see me get the winning home run.

She showed up five minutes after the play ended. I was absolutely devastated. She apologized, she said she hadn't been able to get out of work. I cried.

And that pretty much set the tone for the rest of my life.

She managed to make it to my fourth and fifth grade chorus concerts, which was great because I had leads in all of them, but she never enjoyed it much and made it pretty obvious. She was the same way about my high school band concerts - worse, honestly, because I think she stopped caring about hurting my feelings.

When I turned twelve, my grandfather said he wanted to have a birthday party for me at his house (it was kind of a big deal because I always had my birthdays at that house, except for the year before because my grandmother died and we just didn't want to celebrate there). My mother said she'd get the day off work. She got the day off work. We're all gathered at my grandfather's house eating cake while I unwrap my presents, aaaaaaaand her phone rings. It's work. They need her to come in. She can't say no. It was the last birthday I had at my grandparents' house, and we ended up cutting it short because she never learned how to say no.

Fast forward to age twenty-six, when I'm getting married. My mother makes a big fuss about it because the wedding is in Texas, and she lives in Massachusetts. She is, by the way, the only blood relative I have in attendance at the wedding (my aunt and her husband were going to come, but there was a medical emergency with my sixteen-year-old cousin and they didn't want to leave him. Totally understandable). My mom shows up at 10pm the night before the wedding, makes it obvious she's miserable the entire ceremony and reception, then leaves at 5am the next morning because, you guessed it, she couldn't miss too much work.

I'm 33 now. My mother has never visited me - we always have to go to her. She will absolutely never take the time off to get on a plane and come see the life I made for myself. I know this, it sucks, but I'm used to it by now. That's just how she is.

I don't have a kid yet, but I am going to make damn well sure that in thirty-some odd years, my own child isn't on the next version of Tumblr rewriting this story with their own experiences.

my parents never came to anything I did.

I have so many memories about this, but one in particular: when I was away at camp with 89 other teenagers, and at the one-month mark the post was collected distributed to all the dorms. 89 other children tore open their boxes and, shovelling handfuls of sweets their parents had sent them into their mouths, read pages-long letters and handed around photos of their brothers and sisters.

I didn't. I didn't get anything, I sat on my empty bed watching them. The teachers had to call my parents and ask if perhaps the post had gone missing...? but my parents were surprised they were required to interact with me while I was away.

Well, today, my 3-year-old daughter had a fun-run. The childcare centre invited parents to come but stressed that if we weren't able to, it was alright. There was no fucking way I wasn't going. My daughter wasn't going to be the only child there without a parent watching.

I got time off work and stood there in the beating sun and plastered in greasy sunscreen waiting to see my little girl emerge from inside the centre and stand on the track.

When she did, her little eyes searched through the crowd person-by-person for me, and absolutely lit up like the sun when she spotted me.

Mine filled with tears as I waved at her and cheered.

I'm breaking the cycle.

[lottiesboy]

a day out in westview!!

pairing: cg!agatha harkness x little!reader

summary: you spend the day with your mama and aunt wanda.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, mama!agatha, aunt!wanda, pacis, shopping, eating, reader being a bit of a fussy baby, agatha and wanda spoiling you :3

“babyyyy, wakey wakey.” agatha rubbed your tummy. you woke up slowly, feeling your paci the fell out of your mouth in the night beside you. you put it in your mouth sleepily, making agatha coo.

“awww,,, c’mere, sleepy baby. are you excited to go out with wanda today?” she picked you up from your crib, patting your back as your head rested on her shoulder. you whined sleepily in response.

there was a knock at the door, which made agatha yell, “coming!” you woke up a little bit at that. agatha walked to open the door, hearing wanda greet her from the other side. “am i too early?”

“oh no, not at all! it’ll only take me a little while to get the baby dressed.” agatha let wanda in, going back to your nursery to get you dressed and freshened up. while doing so, you woke up a little more.

“aww, you’re so cute, bunny. feeling more awake now?” agatha pinched your cheek. “mm hm, mama.”

agatha grabbed your diaper bag, slinging it on her shoulder. “let’s go see wanda, huh?” she clipped you paci to your shirt, holding your hand. you walked out to the living room, seeing wanda on the couch.

“hi, sweetheart! c’mere!” wanda gasped. you came over and she gave you a big hug. every time you saw your aunt wanda, she was always so sweet.

soon, the three of you got into agatha’s car and took off, you sitting in the backseat. agatha thought it would be a good idea to go out for lunch before the mall, since all of you were hungry.

-

you woke up to agatha unbuckling your seatbelt. “had a little nap, baby? are you hungry?” she helped you out of the seat. agatha held your hand as all of you walked into the little cafe. you were seated quickly and given menus, but agatha proudly asked for a little coloring page for you. the waitress had no problem with it, and gave you the activity sheet with crayons.

after ordering, wanda and your mama were talking about grownup stuff while you were coloring, laying your head against agatha’s shoulder. “mama, color.” you looked up at her, butting into wanda and agatha’s conversation. you didn’t mean to, but you just wanted attention.

“mama’ll color with you, baby.” she wrapped her arm around you and grabbed a purple crayon, doodling on the page with you. “you’re coloring so well, sweetheart.” wanda complimented with a smile. “thank you.” you said shyly. wanda watched you and agatha play tic tac toe, which she totally didn’t let you win.

when the food got to you, agatha cut yours in small pieces. “wan some, mama.” you pointed to agatha’s plate of pasta. “what do you say?”

“pease, mama.”

agatha smiled, twirling some pasta onto her fork for you. she fed you, wiping the sauce of your chin. “yummy?” she asked and you nodded.

the three of you finished up eating, agatha buying you a milkshake for dessert. wanda and agatha split the bill, and the three of you walked out, ready to go shopping. agatha grabbed the milkshake out of your hand to hold it while crossing the street. you pouted when she took a sip.

“mama, that my milkshake!”

“mama bought it for you, bunny. it’s what i call the “mama tax.” she unlocked the car, taking another sip and giving it back to you. you couldn’t help but smile at how silly your mama was.

-

when the three of you got to the mall, you wanted to go to the toy store immediately, but agatha wanted to get you some new clothes first. what felt like several minutes of agatha saying, “mama’s almost done” or her helping you try on clothes, you started to get restless and a little whiny.

agatha didn’t want to risk you having a tantrum in this store, so she finished up and paid for everything, telling wanda how absolutely adorable you’re gonna look in your new sweaters.

“oh crap! i forgot i needed to take the blouse back. it’s in the trunk.” agatha was about to start walking back to her car, then she heard your complaints about the toy store. “we’ll see toys in a minute, baby.”

you were very upset because you didn’t wanna wait in another boring clothing store for a million hours!!! but wanda had an idea.

“what if i take the little one while you take care of that blouse?” wanda’s hand began you rub your back. “oh, wanda, you’re a lifesaver.” agatha tapped her shoulder and wanda smiled. “you be good for your auntie, okay bunny? mama’s gonna be right back.” she kissed your cheek, letting you and wanda finally see some toys!!!

there was so many toys and stuffies, you got a little overstimulated because there was so much to choose from. “you like those stuffies, sweet pea? oh, that looks so cuddly.” wanda smiled, seeing you hug the stuffie. you didn’t think you were gonna come out with anything, but wanda had something different in mind.

-

agatha walked over to where the toy store was in the mall where she saw you and wanda sitting in lounge chair across from the store.

“mama, wanda boug me toy!”

“she did?” agatha gasped. “oh wanda, you didn’t have to. this little one is spoiled enough.” agatha ruffled your hair. “i couldn’t say no to that sweet face!! i don’t know how you do it, agatha.”

you showed agatha that wanda bought you a stuffie and some stickers. “did you tell wanda thank you, sweetie?”

you nodded, just happy to have a cute stuffie in your hands.

it got later and later at the mall and the three of you left, agatha putting you on her hip halfway to the car because you were so tired. agatha fawned at the way you held your new stuffie to your chest, asking for your paci. she reached into your diaper bag to get it and pushed it in your mouth.

she set you in the backseat of her car, strapping your seatbelt. “someone’s definitely getting a nap when we get home, yeah.” she said to herself. you reached for agatha with a sleepy whine, making her chuckle a little and shush you. “mama’s gotta drive, baby. you’ll get cuddles at home, i promise.”

she shut the door and got in the drivers seat, watching you doze off in the rearview mirror.

[fandomtherapy44]

Dean x reader Oneshot! : Try to be quiet

Summary: Dean and Y/n have a little morning of spice together.

Warnings: SMUT 18+

Divider from

Firefly Graphics

Reblog Banner and 18+ Banner From

cafekitsune

WC: 500

AN: Hey ya'll, so this is just basically a quick smut with Dean enjoy!

I blink my eyes open at the kitsch hotel art hanging on the wall and I feel Dean’s big strong arms around me. We had just finished a case and last night we had our own little celebration. Sweat was stuck to my skin like sticky glue it also being summer in Georgia did help. We had a couple of rounds last night and we finished off with me giving him a slow and drawn-out hand job. I could feel the outline of his cock pressing against my backside due to us still being naked. His fingers slip down feeling up and down my body.

“Mhh Dean what are you doing.” I groaned out starting to get turned on. He goes up and nips my ear.

“I am returning the incredible favor you gave me last night.” He licks a spot on my neck and starts to suck on it like it was sweet candy. His hands go to my chest finding my stiff nipples licks his fingers and makes slow circles on them.

“Dean! Keep going!” I moaned loudly keeping his hand steady.

“Shh try to keep quiet Sam is in the next room over.” He kisses me and our tongues meet in a tough fight he wins. One hand goes to my folds. It goes down the slit at a fast pace it already getting pretty wet.

“This is one of the many things I love about Y/n always so ready for my touch.” His thumb goes to my cilt. My body in response thrusts up to it begging for more. He uses the slickness to rub and to make a pace that I love. With his thumb on my clit his fingers go to my opening. One plunges in deep. My pussy is still easy to go into due to last night.

“Dean you are always going to take number one in this.” I get lost in the euphoria going on between my legs. His finger makes slow pumps in. My soft warm walls clenching with each one. Wanting it stay there more and more slickness is being let out each time.

“Can I insert a second one?” He asks his green eyes staring into mine. I nod with ferocity. He adds it in. They go faster and faster. His other hand moves back up onto my nipple to really get me there. I can feel I was almost there. “Are you ready?” I nod yes. He speeds up hitting my G-spot and that does it for me.

“Ahh! Ahh” I moaned out breathing deeply. My orgasm spread through my body. I turn to him to kiss him sweetly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime sweetheart.” 

Dean and I finally get out of bed and get ready to meet Sam at breakfast.

“Okay, you two please remember there are other people when you have your… fun time,” Sam said half embarrassed and grossed out to think about his brother like… that.

I guess I did need to be quiet.

[arc852]

Gosh, I have no idea how I'm going to put this into words but I'm gonna try my best.

I have a lot of feelings about Jimmy's canary status and such.

For four seasons he has been the first out, he's the canary. He signals the start of the end and for four seasons that was very true. And Jimmy hated it. He hated being out first everytime. Everyone around him either pitied him or made fun of him for being out first and Jimmy started to hate himself for how bad he was at the game.

And then came Secret Life.

As we all know, he wasn't the first out. And he was ecstatic. Even after dying second not ten minutes later, he cared more about the fact that he wasn't out first. He claimed the curse was broken and now we continue to see this into Wild Life.

Now, where am I going with this?

I think the Watchers are doing this on purpose.

There has always been something about Jimmy that the Watchers have clung on to. And up until this point, I thought the Watchers despised him. I mean, being the one cursed to always be out first, to be the one that warns your friends of their deaths, that's not fun. That's straight up torture.

But now, I don't think they despise him. I think they see to use him.

Think about it! The Watchers, for four seasons, have pummeled Jimmy's self confidence into the ground. Has made everyone see him as a loser. He started getting hopeless, started feeling like nothing was ever going to change.

And then it did change, in Secret Life, and he wasn't out first. Now, being out second is really not any better but it wasn't about that. Jimmy was starting to feel like, maybe he could actually do this! Maybe he could even win.

And then session 3 of Wild Life happened.

The Watchers did this on purpose. They gave him hope by not being out first in Secret Life and then let things get crazy in session 3 of Wild Life for Jimmy. Jimmy had it pretty bad in session 3 and I know a lot of us didn't have a lot of hope for him after that. Of course, session 4 went a different way than we were all expecting but again, that kind of plays into things.

The Watchers have torn Jimmy down, given him a little hope, and then tore him down again. And they did this to get Jimmy right where they wanted him.

Because Jimmy, before session 5, prayed to the Watchers. He asked them, begged them to please not let him be out first. To please let the canary curse well and truly die.

And they answered.

And Jimmy wasn't out first.

And now Jimmy is putty in their hands.

[gloomybadger4life]

What she means: I was never like the other kids. Social interaction felt unnatural. Something always felt off. My father encouraged this, he wanted to isolate me. He did.

I see myself and no longer gaze at a person. I am fire, a weapon in the hands of a man who would burn his own son for daring to speak. It matters not.

No attempt of connecting with any person has ever gone to plan. Zuzu is ungrateful, I forced Ty lee's hand. What happens when we win the war?

The world only makes sense if it is ashes.

What she says: my own mother thought i was a monster...

what he means: my first girlfriend sacrificed herself for the good of her people, and she didn't think twice about it. i saw firsthand what it meant to truly protect those you love, and in that moment i also experienced what it meant to be loved enough to be protected. but i wasn't ready. i didn't have enough time to say goodbye. she was gone before she fell back to me, and i knew it even before i looked for a pulse that wasn't there. she was heavy, until she wasn't, because i saw death happen in a way i never thought it could when her body vanished from my arms. i now know what it feels like to kiss a spirit, and it's the last touch i have of her. she sacrificed herself because she believed it was her duty, an expectation she felt she needed to face, and it should never have happened. but she got dragged into a war that we brought to her home. there was nothing i could do to protect her from its devastation, and i blame myself for her death.

what he says: my first girlfriend turned into the moon