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#with that we learned that i really should start tagging stuff
bloomingbluebell · 4 months
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i already knew that melinoe was my type of character and i did make that post the other day about it but i'm replaying hollow knight and realizing just How Much mel reminds me of hornet
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buckleydiazmp4 · 3 months
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do you mind if i ramble in the tags about my weird relationship with making art in fandom for a second
#as someone who is studying art as a career one thing i have realized and also been explicitly told by various teachers#is the fact that having a 'consistent' art style is so overvalued sometimes that it ends up limiting you as an artist#literally i'd say 99 percent of the stuff we do in uni doesn't require consistency. it's actually valued when there isn't one#after all it is about learning and honing skills isn't it#so it has kind of put my personal conflicts in a different perspective#because before i started this degree i used to struggle so much with creation in non-academic spaces (which is pretty ironic. i know)#because the ppl and art i admired was mostly composed of art in fandom spaces#and the most appreciated artists in these spaces tend to be the ones who have a nice defined unique style#which isn't bad. i actually do still wish i could reach something like that#but it made me not want to create as much as i desired because i felt 'inconsistent' and i took that as a negative quality in my art#and it was so frustrating because nothing i tried seemed to 'stick'#which was also due to the fact that none of the varyingly different styles of drawings i posted seemed to reach many people#and yes i have heard time and again the whole schpiel of 'creating for yourself is better and quantity of likes/notes shouldn't mean as muc#to you as long as you're satisfied with your art blah blah blah'– c'mon. we all want our creations to be admired i'm tired of pretending#like i don't. i put it out there for a reason and it is for people to at least acknowledge it. it's the point of fandom. it's community#it's interaction. or at least it should be. that's another conversation though#so anyways since i started uni some time ago this frustration has been receding but it's very much still present#even more so when i get excited about doing/drawing something and then halfway through i get that pull in my chest of like. i'm actually#starting to hate it bc i can't reach what i want to#and so there's this disconnect that happens because i have many ideas and desires to create but i feel (even if it might not be true)#that i don't have the skillset to meet those ideas#which literally happens to almost if not everyone i know i'm not alone in this. it still sucks though#so i end up with about a dozen unfinished works monthly bc i start it/i reach halfway and hate it/i look at art and get inspired bc artists#in fandom are SO talented/i go back to it/i still can't reach the skill level i desperately want/i abandon it indefinitely#it's a horrible cycle that i really haven't been able to escape lately#it's also worse when you're at a time in your life when you don't actually have the opportunity or the time to try to achieve consistency#because you really just physically don't have the time to practice. which is the number one advice every good artist will give you#i am running out of tags but the point is. i hope we stop subconsciously putting consistent art styles in a higher pedestal bc it can be#very stressful for artists who struggle to find that in their creation#art related
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dreadfutures · 13 days
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regarding sept 19:
This needs to be clarified because misunderstanding has resulted in some usually very nice people getting incredibly nasty and bullying others.
This past week, many people - press, and content creators - were allowed a hands-on experience of the new Dragon Age game. They played for about 6 hours. The attendees of this event are under an NDA until Sept 19.
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After September 19th, the people who played the game are allowed to speak about it in some amount of detail. The press embargo is lifted, so to speak.
No one who attended this event has come out, twirled their mustache, and said they're going to spoil major game stuff without warning.
If you think you're about to tell me that yes, someone did - no she didn't. I know it's too much to hope for but someday you must learn to not hear every tweet and text as if the other person was personally intending to harm you. Few people really are so malicious. If you approach text neutrally you can tell when people are, or not. Really.
They have instead warned that there will be info shared from this event, probably tagged and warned about (hopefully), but the reporting, sharing, reposting, etc., of that info will be - like all things in fandom - a mess dependent on individual fans. If you care about spoilers at all, get your filters and blocks ready for that. For sure!
But again, it only seems like they had 6 hours or so to play. I doubt the people who attended will be malicious or rubbing stuff in our faces. I doubt the people who attended will even be spilling every single deet. Most people who we know & are connected to the fandom that were in attendance have said they themselves avoided main game stuff, because they didn't want to be spoiled either.
So that is the real information, as best we know it, without fear mongering about a flood of spoilers - and do with that what you will!
A lot of people are starting to wholly block all of the new game's tags because they don't want to see anything else until it drops! This is definitely the time to start. Maybe you do need to go dark and hop off the internet to keep your boundaries, or maybe you feel confident in your dashboard, your friends, and your filtered content, that you won't be seeing untagged spoilers being shared. (I'm in the latter category; nothing has appeared on my dash without being filtered, for months.)
Control your space with the tools you have, but cruelty should not be one of them.
A lot of people (on twitter, love DA twitter, where the worst aspects of all your friends' personalities come out 😒) have been incredibly, viciously belligerent to those who attended this event. They have used really terrible language to bully them as individuals and make personal attacks against them. The dog-piling has been amplified by certain people who were not invited to that event, and by the wording of others who are giving "warnings" about spoilers running rampant, floodgates opening, mayday, everyone is going to be rubbing spoilers in your face after Sept 19.
Whatever you think about the marketing about this game - whatever you think about what EA thinks are spoilers - whatever your personal stance on what you want to know going into the game (or not):
Content creators and press, their job is to talk about the game. In detail. It's their job! Ideally they do it as (is typically done! as many of them have already been doing!) with warnings/tags/whatever when something spoilery might come up.
Harassing them and wishing them harm or calling them terrible things and slandering their character is just an expression of your own frustration, lack of control, whatever - and it's not a good look.
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starlightomatic · 4 months
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Hi! I saw your tags on unlearning zionism and I was wondering if you've ever spoken about that/the kind of processing you had to do? I think it's... Interesting (for lack of a better word) how this is a sentiment I've seen reflected on pretty much all explicitly non-zionist Jewish blogs I follow, and how much that reflects both how closely entwined the concept and Jewishness has become and the fierce zionism in some people.
Obviously you're free to not discuss this at all, I also understand it's deeply personal. (I'm also not intending to make anyone change their mind, I believe this is a process Jewish people should be afforded on their own terms; I'm really just trying to understand where they're coming from). ♥️
The tl;dr was through talking to people, breaking my rigidities, and being lucky enough to encounter people who were kind, committed to dialogue, and not dismissive.
Longer version under the cut.
In winter 2019 I started dating a non-zionist, so a lot of the early stuff was through conversations with them.
Here are the specific things I recall through them:
They validated my experience of having felt traumatized by a negative experience I had at a protest. I felt very on the defense, and dismissed, as a zionist who wanted to be in leftist spaces and they validated that. I don't know if they were faking it or not, but it felt real, and being heard and not dismissed was super important to building trust and safety. Ultimately, building trust and safety was the most important thing.
They would sometimes patiently poke holes in things I said. Matter of factly, not confrontationally. For example, once I said I didn't like the separation wall dividing Israel proper from the West Bank but that it was necessary to prevent terrorist attacks, and they were like "no, that wasn't the wall, it was a change in PA policy." Another time I was like "I don't understand [West Bank] settlers, if they want to be pioneers and settle more land they should settle the Negev, where they're not encroaching on Palestinians!" and they explained to me more about the situation between Israel and Bedouins and how that actually still would involve encroaching/displacement.
They're very religious, and so they had the tools to poke into my "but just open a siddur! you can see all the references to returning to Jerusalem!" and discuss how that differed from and predated zionism the political ideology. They were able to break through my dismissiveness/derision of Chareidi antizionism and help me understand that it has legitimate religious underpinnings. (They're not Chareidi though.) They affirmed for me that they do feel connected to Eretz Yisrael and they love Eretz Yisrael.
They also explained that indigenous doesn't mean "from a place" but rather describes a relationship to colonialism. It still didn't totally click for me, and they and I have both since come to understand that there are a lot of definitions of indigenous, but what it did help me understand was that when people push back against "Jews are indigenous to EY" they're not always trying to say we're not from there.
In general it helped me break down what I thought an antizionist was. I thought that an antizionist was someone who didn't think Jews had a meaningful spiritual and communal connection to EY, thought we weren't from there, didn't give a shit if all Israeli Jews ended up pushed into the sea, hadn't opened a siddur to see references to return to Jerusalem, etc. I was also pretty rigid in my thinking and had collected a bunch of talking points, mostly that I'd co-created with other members of Jewbook (Jewish facebook). They helped me break out of that rigidity and once I'd done that I was open to learning more.
What happened next is that in fall 2019 is I did a fellowship that, while unrelated to the topic, put me in contact with other Jewish antizionists.
There was one person whose project we visited during an outing on the fellowship, who had discussed their project's antizionism. I was bothered by it and asked them one question: Did they feel Jews were connected to Eretz Yisrael? Did they feel connected to Eretz Yisrael? They responded yes of course.
Another person was my roommate on the fellowship, a leftist antizionist Syrian Jew. For a while one of my sticking points had been Mizrahi support of Zionism -- my thought process here had a few pieces. One, it seemed like white privilege to go against what most Israeli Jews of color believed and wanted. Another was that I felt that a lot of antizionists were dismissive of and racist towards Mizrahim and don't understand or care to understand their needs, history, or motivations (I do still think that's true). I also saw the expulsions from SWANA and the fact that Israel took in the SWANA Jewish refugees as proof of the necessity of Zionism.
So, I think that interacting with a Mizrahi antizionist both taught me expanded perspectives on the issue, and taught me that it's possible to be antizionist and still in solidarity with Mizrahim. I learned more nuance, for example around Israel's taking in of the refugees; I knew they had been mistreated, but I think it helped me connect the dots about what that meant about the entire Zionist project. That was also the year A-WA's album Bayti fi Rasi came out, and when I listened to Hana Mash Hu Al Yaman, I think that's when it clicked for me that Israel taking them in was not some sort of miracle or blessing in disguise but rather a last resort for people who did not want to go but had no choice. The main characters in that song wanted to stay in Yemen which is I think something that hadn't clicked for me before. That may not be the majority Mizrahi perspective but it is a perspective and one I hadn't previously considered.
By the same token, my partner at the time (the one I talked about at the beginning of the post) was raised as a Yiddish speaker, and we talked about Yiddish suppression during the early days of the state, as well as Ben Yehuda's disdain for Yiddish, and the general early Zionist disdain for Eastern European Jewry and "old world" Jewish culture. I was already aware of the New Jew concept (the idea that the old Jew was studious and unathletic, but we should put that behind us to become strong and agricultural). They helped me frame this in terms of antisemitism, connecting it to the vitriol Chassidim receive from other Jews, antisemitism directed towards Jewish men and the ways it's about gender and goyish and Jewish constructions of masculinity, anti-circ rhetoric that depends on the Hellenistic idea of the body as perfection, and Naomi Klein's analysis of the dislike of Yiddish by Ben Yehuda et al as sexist due to their association of it as "feminine" and therefore lesser.
We also talked about the ways that Zionism devalues diaspora culture. I definitely see this in the ways that eg Jewbook zionists used to see the Ashkenazi past in Eastern Europe as simply a time of pogroms and violence with nothing generative or valuable. It seems that zionism posits Israel and Israeli culture as the "right" or "completed" version of Judaism, and discourages us from mourning the loss of culture we experienced during the Holocaust and our subsequent exodus.
I think there is nuance here; there are Israeli Yiddishists, there are people practicing all kinds of diaspora Jewish cultures in Israel, etc. I think this is a case where antizionists take something real and over emphasize it to sound bigger and more harmful than it is. It's not Israel's fault that European Jewry got destroyed and it's not Israel's fault that A-WA's family had to leave Yemen. Sometimes it feels like antizionist project those harms onto Israel and Zionism.
At the same time though, there is a kernel of truth in the way at least that many North American zionists view Ashkenazi culture, thought I can't say how much of that is their Zionism and how much is the legacy of American assimilationism (even among religious Jews).
In any case, 2020 is when I started on my journey to deepen my understanding of old world Ashkenazi culture and history. I started with a day spent in the kids' section of the Yiddish Book Center using the beginner education resources there to start teaching myself Yiddish (I had a lot of familiarity because my extended family speaks it, but I didn't yet). About half a second later the pandemic started, and the chaos from that took all my attention for a while, but by the end of the summer I did a deep dive on my genealogy and spent two weeks tracking down documents and names and towns. At that point my family history was no longer abstract, and I started wondering more about what their lives were like in the old country.
I started watching Yiddish plays on zoom, including a production of the Dybbuk that I fell in love with. I got involved in the shtetlcore movement, which was a social media aesthetic fad that was basically the shtetl version of cottagecore. That spring the duolingo Yiddish course came out and I did a six month streak. The following winter I went to a virtual Yiddish conference. I went again two more times in person, and last summer I went to a week-long retreat where we were only allowed to speak Yiddish. I also do Yiddish drag and burlesque.
With this emphasis and knowledge it's hard for me to accept any framing that the only "right" place for Jews to live is Israel, or that diaspora cultures are lesser-than. At some point I encountered a belief among some zionists (though I don't think most believe this) that the Jewish people's differentiation into a myriad of different cultures was a bad thing, and constituted negatively picking up pieces of non-Jewish culture, and that it's good we're back together in Israel so we can become just one culture again. I obviously strongly disagree and I while I wish we had not had to experience the trauma of Khorban Beis Hamikdash and the ensuing displacement, I think the variety of different cultures we split into is beautiful.
Ironically, Israel is actually a place of great cultural exchange between those cultures. And yes, I do worry there will be cultural loss if everything blends together melting pot style, but that's more of a function of how societies work as opposed to official state policy. And I also think the Jewish subcultures will endure. Also the cultural loss is the fault of the Holocaust, the Soviet Union, and nationalist SWANA countries way way more than it is Israel's.
At this point I've come to view the idea that Zionism is detrimental to Jewish culture as weak, but I still am not a Zionist, and that's because the issue with Zionism is not that it harms Jews but that it harms Palestinians.
In early summer 2020, I, along with many other white people were called to reckon with the realities of white supremacy in the US, and our part in it, far more deeply than we had before. I learned to understand how racism functions as a pillar of the US's underpinnings, how white supremacy morphs to sustain itself, how I as an individual and Jews as a group were being used to maintain white supremacy. It fundamentally shifted how I view these topics and how I understand the way that states function.
It was impossible not to apply these concepts to Israel-Palestine. While it is obviously not a one-to-one comparison and I am frustrated with folks who seem to think it is, the concepts and analyses I learned in June 2020 were very elucidating in understanding Israel as a state, and how white supremacy and Jewish supremacy operate in Israel-Palestine.
One of those concepts is a deeper understanding of power dynamics and the oppressed-oppressor relationship. While that is not the be-all end-all, and it is still possible for an oppressed group to do harm and commit war crimes (as they did on Oct 7), it helped me understand the ways it makes no sense to view Palestinians and Israelis as equal parties or to view Palestinians as "the aggressor" as many zionists do. Riots are the language of the unheard and, yes, so is violence. Do not imagine that I excuse, condone, or celebrate Oct 7, but I understand why it happened.
These past seven months have forced a magnifying glass on Israel-Palestine and I have spent a lot of time thinking and talking about it. I have had many experiences and interactions that have illuminated different things to me, but I'll leave you with this one.
In 1956, a young man named Ro'i Rothberg was killed in Kibbutz Nahal Oz by Palestinians who lived in Gaza. Moshe Dayan came to give a eulogy and in it, he said:
Why should we declare their burning hatred for us? For eight years they have been sitting in the refugee camps in Gaza, and before their eyes we have been transforming the lands and the villages, where they and their fathers dwelt, into our estate.
Which is to say, he is stating point blank that the Nakba happened, and that Nahal Oz -- and in fact Israel -- is built on land that had been farmed and inhabited by Palestinians. The hasbarist canard of "we didn't steal their land" falls away when Moshe Dayan himself admits it, doesn't it?
He is acknowledging, also, that he understands why the people of Gaza are enraged, and why some of them express this rage as violence. He gives his solution: That the Israeli people, and especially the people of Nahal Oz, must always be on their guard. Must never become peaceniks and forget the rage of the people of Gaza. He says "we are a generation that settles the land and without the steel helmet and the cannon's maw, we will not be able to plant a tree and build a home."
His vision is of an Israel that is always militarized and militant, always on its guard, never to know peace. A people who will send their children to the army generation after generation after generation. Never to rest. Never to be able to lower their guard.
And that is awful! Not just for Palestinians, but for Israelis! Dayan lays out here that if the Nakba is not redressed, this will continue forever. He wants it to continue forever; I want the Nakba redressed.
He knew Nahal Oz would be attacked again. And he was right. On the morning of Simchat Torah of this year, 5784, twelve residents of the kibbutz were brutally murdered. A family that my family knows hid there in their bomb shelter for ten hours with their small children until they were rescued. The kibbutz was destroyed.
And Moshe Dayan knew it would happen, all the way back in 1956. And yet did nothing to change our trajectory. I cannot forgive him that.
In the months since the destruction of Nahal Oz, we have seen Gaza pummeled with a terrifying vengeance. For years I have encountered, albeit few and far between, people who have clammored for Gaza to be "turned into a parking lot." I was horrified by them, but did not take seriously the threat they represented. Yet now, their genocidal flowers have borne fruit. Gaza lies in ruins. 60% of the roads and infrastructure are destroyed. The descendants of refugees are refugees again, chased from their homes by the descendants of refugees. The live in tents, they scrabble for water and food. They live under threat of bombing, or being shot, or dying of illness and malnutrition.
And still Nahal Oz remains destroyed. The Jewish dead of Europe remain dead. The synagogues of Tunis and Algiers remain empty. Nothing is fixed, only more and more broken.
Is it to continue this way? Is this the world we want?
I say no. I say another world is possible. And on a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.
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ladykailitha · 4 months
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Paper Hearts Part 5
I have no restraint. I have NO restraint. I HAVE NO RESTRAINT!!! So guess who starting writing a SEQUEL to this because she was feeling too sad to write Sweet Home Indiana? Yup! I would apologize, but this story is too cute for words.
We have a mild panic attack about the ending of the chapter from Steve, Eddie's plan, and Steve accepting an offer that made mostly in jest, but also in deep earnest.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
TAG LIST IS CLOSED!!!
But if the people on my list that haven't interacted on my stuff lately don't reply by Sunday slots may open up. So don't despair just yet if you want to be on the list and can't.
****
Steve banged his head on his locker in frustration. Why did he do that? Why did he tell Eddie he was interested in boys, too? Why did he trust the other boy to have his back? Especially when no one else seemed to.
He sighed.
He wrenched open his locker and a little pink heart fluttered to the floor. He frowned as he picked it up.
They weren’t going to hand out the hearts until Valentine’s Day so what was this then?
-Stevie
I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you.
Kas
Steve blinked down at the little heart in confusion. It wasn’t the exactly the same color as the hearts they were going to give out for the holiday. But it was close. He rubbed his thumb over the sender’s name.
Kas.
He knew it wasn’t a real name, having recently poured over the yearbook. So it had to be a reference to something, but what he didn’t know. He stuck it in his jacket pocket and grabbed what he needed for his next class, vowing to worry about it later.
As he sat in his chemistry class waiting for it to start he pulled it out of his pocket to look at it again. The pen was red ink and bold. Steve found himself smiling at the strange little pink heart.
Suddenly it was ripped out of his hand.
His head snapped up to see Tommy H. standing there with it in his hand. “Someone is sending Harrington Valentine’s hearts?”
“Give it back, Tommy,” Steve growled. “It’s none of your business. Not anymore.”
Tommy looked him in the eye before tossing it to the ground and walking off. “Whatever.”
Steve bent over to pick it up.
“Some girl named Kassy or whatever,” Tommy was telling Nicole. “Could be anyone from the younger grades.”
“I suppose so,” she said, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “But anyone with sense would know he’s the plague now.”
Tina rolled her eyes. “Just because he refuses to suck either of you two off doesn’t mean he’s still not the hottest guy in school.”
Tommy rounded on her and called her a bitch.
She just scoffed and swung back around just as the teacher walked into the room. The tardy bell rang and he called the class to order, effectively squashing all gossip.
Steve ducked his head to hide his smile. He might feel a bit bitter that it was her party that Nancy threw their relationship in his face at, but it wasn’t her fault his girlfriend had gotten so pissed drunk that she lost her ironclad control. And right now he was feeling especially grateful to her for that comment.
He managed to get through his class just from riding that high alone.
His last class was algebra and it really should have been made illegal by now. The way the numbers and letters seemed to float off of the page as he struggled to parse their meaning. He just had to pass one quarter of this shit and he could graduate.
So he put his head down to learn and just suffer through it.
After school, he got to his locker and knelt down to open it.
Again a pink heart fluttered out of it. But this time it had a couple of friends. Steve stuck them in his jacket pocket again and exchanged books. He grabbed his English and history homework so that he could get them done for tomorrow.
He opened the back door of his car and threw in his backpack. He went to open his door when Eddie was suddenly at his side.
He leaned up against the door, preventing Steve from opening it.
“So the king swings for both teams?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Steve looked around, but they were alone for the most part, so he just shrugged. “Some guys are hot and for some reason I can’t fathom, I trust you not have it all over the school by lunch tomorrow.”
Eddie chuckled and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I wouldn’t do that to ya.”
“Yeah and why would that be?” Steve asked turning around and sticking his hands in his front pockets.
“That would be because it would be hypocritical of me to go spreading around the school someone likes guys,” he said, bumping their shoulders together.
Steve looked at him for a long time before he nodded. “You know by now I don’t put much stock into rumors. I did that once and got my shit rocked for it. Lesson learned, man.”
“I heard about the infamous Byers left hook,” Eddie agreed. “That was some pretty major shit rocking.”
The jock rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure he was my first concussion.”
The older boy looked up at the sky as he thought about it and then nodded. “Billy Hargrove would be round two, I’m assuming?”
Steve nodded and then threw his head back. “This year has gone from bad to worse and I’m barely keeping my head above water.”
Eddie hummed his agreement. It really has seemed like Steve couldn’t catch a break. “I feel that. I’m really struggling this year. Last year I didn’t graduate because I so focused on getting out of here, making it with my music that I forgot the promise I made to my mom that I would. Graduate I mean. But this year is just hell.”
“That sucks, Eds,” he agreed.
“You think you’re going to graduate?”
“God, I hope so,” Steve murmured, collapsing against the side of his car. “I just want to get out of this town.”
Eddie chuckled and shook his head. “Where would you even go, man?”
“I’d pick a direction and just drive for as long as I could,” he admitted softly. “I just need to be as far away from this place as I can.”
The metalhead nodded. “If we both graduate we should hop into my van and just run for the coast.”
Steve smiled fondly. “I think I’d like that.”
Eddie pushed himself off the car and then waved Steve goodbye.
The younger boy got into his car with a sigh of relief. Not only did Eddie promise not to out him, he came out to Steve, too. Now it was mutually assured destruction.
Steve smiled and started the car for home. Maybe this year was starting to get a little better.
****
Eddie shoved his hands in his back pockets as he made his way to his van. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask Steve to runaway with him or what possessed Steve to agree but it left a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.
He hauled himself into the van and sat there for a moment just thinking about it. Of course that meant graduating himself, so he would have to focus on that. His van roared to life and he drove off.
It took him a couple of tries but he finally found the construction paper he needed. He had even found some black construction paper that he was going to use to make little paper bats to tape on the inside of his locker to make it less miserable.
Especially as he was told he couldn’t have his metal band posters up in there. They were too “evil” and “Satanic” and he should be more “Christ like” as if they were epitome of Christian virtue with all the hate they had for anyone not like them.
But Eddie got down to work and started making as many pink hearts as he could. He had thought briefly about adding a couple of red hearts in the mix, but he thought that was a step too far. He didn’t want to get Steve’s hopes up that he had multiple crushes on him if that wasn’t true.
He still planned on giving Steve his one red heart that he had bought. That wasn’t in question. He had already filled it out and returned it to the great big baskets that had been in the main hall.
It simply read:
Stevie,
You make being in this town worth living in,
Love,
Kas
He let out a slow shuddering breath. That was one of the scariest things he had to do since choosing to live with an uncle he had only met twice his entire life over being in the system. He knew his life was infinitely greater being with Uncle Wayne and he hoped this would yield a similar result.
Because he had made a promise and with all signs pointing toward Steve at least being receptive to a date, he had to shoot his shot and hope for the best.
He had made roughly fifty or so of the pink hearts and set about dividing them into four piles. With Jeff, Gareth, and Brian offering to help with the friendship hearts he wanted to make sure everyone got a few of them. Plus it made it easier to come up with things. Because even if they came up with similar ideas, they at least would be phrased slightly different so Steve wouldn’t figure it out.
He also had the idea of using pseudonyms so that it wasn’t all anonymous and initials, though there would some of those too.
But it was time for band practice, so he gathered up his things and the hearts and trotted off to his van, a wave and goodbye to Wayne on his way out.
****
Steve finally opened the other three hearts. Two were anonymous but the third surprisingly was from Tina.
It read it in the tiniest print that was still legible:
Steve,
I know we’re supposed to turn these in or whatever,
But I just wanted to say you’re still A-OK in my book.
-Tina
He blushed. That was nice of her and after she stuck up for him in chemistry, he was feeling a little better about himself.
The other two were just as sweet if a tad unusual in their delivery. The first one said:
Steve,
I’m sorry you lost your crown,
you kept the bullies from being their worst selves.
And the other read:
Steve,
You are a good dude.
Sorry people are shit right now.
Steve shook his head. They were well-tended, he had no doubt but they were odd. Like they were trying to find something nice to say and didn’t know how to word it.
Which, fair.
He knew he had a hard time coming up with complements for the twenty girls he’d picked out for his little project. He had to make sure the message wasn’t creepy or would come across as stalker-y.
He smiled down at the messages. He pulled out a little notebook that he had used to collect all the little things that the kids had given him over the past couple years and put the hearts on their own little page. He carefully put the book back, hidden between two textbooks from his freshman year.
“Steven!” his mom called. “We’re home!”
“Coming, Mom!” he cried, hurrying down the stairs.
****
Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Tag List: Closed
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@swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234 @dotdot-wierdlife
@ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself @dam28lh
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snapscube · 2 months
Note
In Dawntrail did you enjoy a different character playing the main role, or do you prefer when the player character is leading the narrative?
this is definitely a major point of contention in the fanbase rn and i can generally see valid feelings/criticism on both ends of the spectrum. i myself do fall somewhere in between the most extreme takes on this. i won't go into too much detail about actual events but ill tag this as spoilers anyway just in case. ok so my thoughts are:
firstly, i like Wuk Lamat a lot. i don't think she deserves even half of the pure unfiltered ire that she is receiving from a large subset of the community rn. the amount of people who have already turned being a wuk lamat hater into an advertised personality trait really frustrates me. i really enjoyed seeing her personal journey through the story and i was overall very satisfied by her inclusion. however, i do not think the story was perfectly paced or balanced, and i definitely do understand where people are coming from when they say that they could have used a little less of her in the forefront. honestly it did kind of ultimately disappoint me that we missed out on a lot of potential interaction/development with someone like Krile, who in spite of being promised a big breakout role in this expansion still somewhat felt like a SLIGHT (i have to stress slight) afterthought. she did get some notable moments of development and emotion, but i feel like there could have been more.
okay but, your question is about our role as a player in the narrative. i hold the opinion that for THIS EXPANSION SPECIFICALLY, the warrior of light taking somewhat of a narrative backseat actually made a ton of sense and fit the themes of the narrative as well as the promise of a somewhat breezy summer vacation for our heroes. now, i will say this: i really do not agree with the idea that the WoL should be in a mentor role indefinitely because our story is done developing and we need to give the spotlight to "the next generation" of heroes in the world. i appreciate the SENTIMENT of this, but like for me personally.... i don't want Pella's story to be done, yknow? i definitely would be disappointed if this was the DE FACTO role she played in every expansion past this. but i don't even think that is factually what's going to happen. we're currently in a setup phase! and, again, bringing it back to this narrative and the themes within, a lot of Dawntrail about the experience of entering unfamiliar places and learning about the customs and the traditions of people already within it to best help them without unwelcomely trampling on their culture in the process. i think a story like that is the PERFECT time for the WoL to take a bit of a backseat. wuk lamat is also somewhat unfamilar like us yes, but Tural is still her home and she is about to be tasked with leading it. i feel like centering our character in that equation would feel.... really disingenuous? it was kinda frustrating sometimes when it felt like hey.... there's a situation happening right now that can be solved by skilled combat and you have a literally god killer standing right here doing a frown emote, but at a certain point i could chalk it up to growing pains or necessary suspension of disbelief in the interest of the overall emotional hook of the narrative. a lot of those moments could be explained away with enough thought about the character motivations and culture at play, though sometimes it does feel like a stretch. again, far from a perfectly written MSQ. it starts slow and it's messy and it throws a LOT of stuff at you that doesn't always pay off like you expect or want. but i dunno! i think we're gonna see some really interesting stuff come to the forefront in the future, and i think especially now knowing that much of the playerbase thought we took TOO much of a backseat here CS3 will probably adjust their focus accordingly next time. so i can't be too upset really about the stuff i wasn't into. the rest of it was great imo!
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itspyon · 10 months
Text
how to adapt into dtblr culture for twitter refugees
so you've decided to move here from twitter. welcome and congratulations. this post is basically a big warning that goes THIS ISN'T TWITTER, DON'T BEHAVE LIKE IT IS, LEAVE THAT AT THE DOOR
i'll be teaching you two things, how the site works, and how to adapt your behavior to tumblr ( and really, normal human being ) culture. believe me, it's not that hard and it will actually feel very productive
let's start with the basics and frequent questions
your username can be anything, don't stress about it
your picture can be anything. a lot of us don't even have dteam related stuff up on our profile
your display name doesn't have to be your name. nobody is going to see it when you post, only usernames are visible
check your settings. do it. get familiar with them. turning on and off asks, turning anon off, turning submissions off. click on your blog, go to blog settings, check things there, go to account, your muted things will be there, go to dashboard and customize that. use your settings !!!
yes, pinned posts are fairly important and they tend to be pretty extensive. name age what you post about ( a lot of people here are multifandom !), just don't overshare ( no locations no trigger lists i beg you ). they also usually have a breakdown of your tags at the end
tags
it's a whole thing. some are actually useful. some are just passive commentary
the tags you put on posts ( both when you made the post and when you're reblogging something ) are both global and hosted on your profile. it's why you'll see things like "nameofperson art" rather than just "art". using just "art" will put you in the promoted tag, in this case
you can use spaces on your tags
usually you will tag what type of post you're making ( art, text post, ask post ), and then the contents keep in mind this is how people often mute things, some people tag the current situation, people use and mute ship tags. but this is also how people find things, like the specific asks from one person to another, so "username ask" is commonly used, "irl person ( dream, dnf, etc )" is also seen a lot just watch how others tag things and copy them. nobody will get offended you took their tag formatting, most of us will appreciate properly tagged posts
you do tag when you reblog people. you use tags to comment on things. don't really use replies unless you're, saying thank you to someone or pointing out a spell mistake or asking to add an option to a poll, etc. we don't do replies, just rb your reply
quick reblog and like deets
post popularity is measured in "notes" which is the sum of replies, reblogs and likes. we don't really care much about numbers here and if you start getting crazy about it people will not like it. this is more of a talking and showing site
you can reblog without tags, feel free to
you can hide your likes. you can and should like as many things as you want. they don't alter any algorithm, since there's none. a like is a "i saw this post" notification to the poster
actually posting
people talk a lot. a fucking lot, and it's something you will have to get used to, because it's very different from twitter
there are no qrts. callouts are looked down upon. breathe. if you don't like something MUTE IT DON'T POST ABOUT IT, because no one is going to listen to any callouts. you will have to learn to live with the fact people like things you don't. this will, with time, make you feel very free
the bulk of posting here is asks, as you might notice soon. asks are fun and encouraged. just don't name drop if you're talking about drama please ?
don't be scared to send asks off anon, this is how people will find you and get to know you really. people are also more likely to reply to you
block bait anons. yes you can block anons. yes it will block every blog they make
culture time
i've said this. tumblr is unserious. drama here is approached very differently and with several less layers of panic. you will see death threats. you will see slurs ( said in non derogatory ways ). you will see jokes about serious topics. you will see people say "i didn't like this" and nobody will care
tumblr is a community of individualism. you will like your own things within the thing we share we like. you might not like dream's music, you might not find irl streams entertaining, as long as you're fucking normal about it ? nobody will care and you're free to express your opinions. people will even come ask you about it and just have a chat. we're here for the same content to some degree
tumblr is also a bunch of people who understand they like another bunch of people. that none of the streamers have stopped being human. so you might see people defend things that, maybe, you'd not have thought to defend before. maybe you're even uncomfortable seeing them defending it. this is something you will experience a lot, and you'll learn to properly deal with it as time passes
because again. no one does callouts here unless it is extremely bad. no one cares if you don't really like them. and they also accept people might and will not like them. and that is fine. and that doesn't make either person horrible. you're just different people. and you don't even have to interact
you want to make friends ? ask people things, compliment people's work, genuinely attempt to make conversation. this is not an impersonal website the way twitter is. people don't care about your opinions because they care about you, and you are more than what you don't like
the more positive and jokey and interactive you are the more people will talk to you. there's no "hitting the algorithm", there's no "engagement", it's just people talking to people. so don't be a neg posting bot, and be a person
you will learn to be less miserable. you learn to stop giving a shit and just do what makes you happy. they cannot get you here. there's no qrts. the few antis you'll find can be blocked and you'll never have to directly interact with one. don't be mean to the people in your own community, even if you disagree
again, you are more than what you don't like. learn to be what you like instead. and leave the dooming at the door
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Text
Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 5
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Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?
Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)
Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁
Chapter Warnings: Here be smut. 😊 Light oral (m receiving), handjob, conversations about sex.
Word Count: 3,751
A/N: Here's Ch. 6. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️
Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag List
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Dean watched Y/N's chest rise and fall and felt the warm air escape from her slightly parted lips onto his shoulder where her head lay. Her lashes lay fanned against cheeks - cheeks that seemed pale, as though she wasn't getting enough rest. He let her sleep longer than he wanted; she seemed to need it and it allowed him time to study her features and imprint them in his memory. 
He'd be gone tomorrow, at noon. He had no idea when he would get back here. He never visited more than once a year at most. His family's business was very demanding and time consuming, and he needed to be in New York to run it. But as he brushed his finger down Y/N's cheek, he suddenly wished he could stay longer…much longer.
Or even better, he wished Y/N would reconsider his offer to be his mistress. Then he could come to see her several times a week, maybe more if she was amenable. He didn't want to upset her though, in their last hours together, so he decided to keep that hope to himself.
He was grateful, when she stirred and her eyes opened. There weren't many hours left.
She was clearly confused as she opened her eyes and didn't recognize where she was right away. When she looked at him though, he could see memory dawn, and chuckled at the predictable blush that bloomed in her cheeks.
She sat up slightly, pulling the sheet up higher to cover herself. "How long have I been sleeping? What time is it?"
"You've only been out about an hour. It's nearly two o'clock." He said, tucking her hair behind her ear.
She ducked her head. "I should go. I shouldn't have stayed."
He ran his knuckles down her bare arm. "Is that what you really want?"
She looked up at him and hesitated before answering. "No, it isn't."
"What do you want?" He asked, desire flooding his gaze.
A million emotions crossed her face, too quick for him to read them properly.
"I have a question."
He nodded.
"How long does it take to know if I'll have a baby?"
Dean frowned. "What?"
"Well, I know women carry babies for 9 months, but how long before I can tell if I'm with child?"
Dean's frown deepened. "No time at all. I can tell you right now. You're not with child."
Her eyes widened. "How can you tell?" She looked down at herself, looking under the sheet at her stomach as though looking for a message there.
Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Because we didn't do what we'd need to in order to make a baby."
Her head snapped up to look at him. "What do you mean?"
He took a deep breath. "Y/N, what do you think has to happen to make a baby?"
She blushed harder. "A man and woman take off their clothes and lay in bed and the man does something and hopefully a baby comes. At least, usually it's hopeful when the man and woman are married."
Dean put his hand to his mouth, and studied her. How had she gotten to the age of twenty-six without knowing the basic biological necessities of procreating?
Y/N turned to face him more fully. "So, do you mean, that what you did to me," her skin was on fire, "that wasn't the marriage act?"
"The what?"
"The marriage act. I only know a little from friends at school. That's what they said had to happen to make a baby, and Mrs. Oliver called it the marriage act. Is that not what it's called?"
Dean pushed a hand through his hair and tried not to laugh. "Well, we're not married, so it wouldn't make sense to call it that. But no, what we did was not the marriage act, and no babies will result from it."
Y/N looked distinctly relieved for a moment before looking puzzled again. "So, if we didn't participate in the marriage act, does that mean…am I still chaste?"
Dean didn't think chaste described her screaming release of an hour ago, but he didn't want to embarrass her, so he just nodded. "Yes, you remain a virgin. That's why I did it that way."
"There are other ways to do it?" The question seemed to pop out of Y/N's mouth before she could stop it because she clapped a hand over her mouth and ducked her head again. "I'm sorry, what a question to ask."
But Dean answered anyway. "Yes, there are many, many other ways of making love."
In spite of her fiery blush, Y/N asked, "Is that what you call it? Making love?"
"Well, there are a lot of other things it's called too, but that's one."
Y/N nodded and then grabbed hold of his hand.
"Dean, could you teach me about making love?" She must have been startled by the heat and desire he knew flooded his expression because she quickly amended her statement. "I mean, could you tell me about making love? I have no one else I could ever ask, and I'd like to know."
Dean had no idea what to say. He was quiet for a minute and Y/N shook her head. "I'm sorry, that's a horrible question to ask. I'm sorry."
"No, Y/N, don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for, I just…" he paused for a moment, "…I've just never talked about it with a woman."
"So, you don't talk when you're making love." It was a statement and she sounded like she was taking notes.
"Well, I mean, yes, you talk, but not…" He shoved a hand through his hair. "…usually the conversation isn't so…it's just a different kind of talking."
Her expression was innocent and questioning and he cleared his throat, determined to answer the questions she had.
"Alright so, I don't know how well I'll be able to answer all your questions, but I'll try. Go ahead." He braced himself.
Only two bright patches of red showed in her cheeks when she asked again, "How are babies made?"
Dean took a deep breath. "Well, men have a…" he cleared his throat and started over. "Women have…" he raked his hand through his hair again. This was a very strange conversation to be having. He realized he needed more information.
"Y/N, what do you know? I mean do you know what a man looks like?" he asked. "I mean, the parts you don't usually see." He amended.
She gestured to his torso. "Just what's in front of me." She said, smiling shyly.
"So, you've never seen a naked man, not even in a painting? Or a sculpture?"
She looked away, and gave a small shrug. "There weren't a lot of paintings or sculptures like that at my school."
He grinned. "I guess not. But since you've been out of school?"
She looked at him again. "I haven't exactly gone looking for them."
He chuckled. "Fair enough."
Her face brightened. "Oh, I did see a painting of a naked cherub once."
Dean couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. She smiled and looked sheepish.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, really. I just can't imagine many men would want a woman to believe they resembled a naked cherub."
She rewarded him with one of her adorable wide grins. "No, I imagine not." She reached up and ran a hand from his shoulder down to his elbow, her grin melting away into a look of hunger. "And I can't imagine anything that looks less like a cherub."
She studied his body for a moment and her gaze alone made his already hard cock feel close to bursting. She pulled her hand away and tucked the sheet more firmly around her. Dean tried to force his body under control.
"So," she said, trying to bring them back on track, "you were saying?"
"Right." He cleared his throat. It seemed very dry all of a sudden. "So, men have a…uh…a kind of…um…" He looked at her face, and came up with the best word he could to describe it. "They have a shaft."
Y/N's face was quizzical. He continued. "And women have…well, I mean you know what your own body looks like." Her face looked confused now. "I mean, you know what…I mean, surely you've looked at yourself."
Comprehension flooded her expression along with a lot of embarrassment. "No, of course not. I mean, not really." She was acutely embarrassed and she wouldn't look him in the eye. "I mean, of course I've never looked, it's…well, it's sinful!" She exclaimed, as though he was mad for not realizing that.
It made him very sad to hear her say such a thing and he took her chin in his hand to force her to focus on him. "Y/N, it's your own body. It is literally the body God created for you, how on earth could it be sinful to look at it?"
While she tried to absorb his words, he decided to just tell her straight. "So, men have a shaft and women have an opening into their body. It's the opening that babies come out of," he paused, "and I suppose the opening where they're put in as well. Men have a um…a seed that comes from their shaft and they put their shaft into the woman's body and plant their seed. A baby grows from there."
He wasn't sure that was the best explanation, especially because Y/N looked slightly horrified.
She opened and closed her mouth several times before managing to speak. "So, if I want a baby, I have to let a man stick a shaft into a hole in my body." Her face was scrunched up and full of disgust. He had to admit that when it was summed up that way it did not sound very pleasant. He decided that if he didn't want to leave her completely terrified he should clarify things a little.
"I know it sounds very…mechanical and cold, but it's not when it's happening." He moved closer to her on the bed and cupped her cheek. "It's just like earlier, when I touched you and tasted you, it's the same kind of heat." He bent his head and kissed her slow, and sweet. She responded immediately, trying to deepen the kiss. But he pulled away; he wasn't trying to start her desire up all over again. "See, not cold or mechanical."
She raised a hand to her mouth and shook her head, a little sadly he thought. "No, not cold." She smiled softly.
She looked into his eyes. "Can I…" she paused for a moment. "Could I see it? See you, I mean?"
His blood started pumping overtime and he shifted away from her again. "I don't know if that's a good idea."
Her face was suddenly flooded with red and she shook her head quickly. "No, of course not. I'm sorry, Dean. What a horrible thing to ask for, I'm…sorry…" she trailed off in embarrassment and Dean wanted to kick himself.
He grabbed her hand with both of his and brought it to his chest. "Please look at me." When she did, he continued, "You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. When it is me and you, together like this, I promise you that there is nothing you could ask, nothing you could ask for, and nothing you could tell me that is wrong, or sinful, or terrible. The space between us here," he pressed his hand to the sheet that covered her chest before bringing his hand back to press against his own chest. "…this space is sacred. It's magic. There's nothing that can't be said."
She blushed but she nodded. "Alright."
Suddenly her expression became quizzical, and she was staring at his pants. "Why aren't you naked? You kept your pants on. You said not to hide, but you're hiding. Why?"
He sighed and chuckled lightly. He let go of her hand. "For the same reason I said that it wasn't a good idea for you to…look at me. Because I'm doing everything I can to control myself, and that might be too much."
"Control yourself?"
"It's better if I have a kind of barrier between me and you. My…um…shaft…" he shook his head over the absurdity of this conversation and the fact that it was making him so incredibly hard. "Let's just say it's very sensitive."
Y/N thought about his words for a moment. "So, you're still aching. You didn't…come apart, like me?"
Her expression was worried and she bit her bottom lip, a gesture that made him think his pants might not actually make much of a difference for very long.
"No, I didn't." He said succinctly.
"Well, that hardly seems fair."
He smiled a strained smile. "It's fine. I'm fine."
She frowned at him. "So, you don't…I see…you don't ache for me the way I ache for you. It's different? Like the difference between me kissing you and you kissing me? You don't need me to fix it for you?"
She looked sad and Dean swore softly. "Y/N, you have no idea how much I ache, how desperate I am to have you touch me, kiss me, fix me. But I'm trying to abide by your wishes. I'm trying to keep you a virgin, and there's only so much torment a man can take. If you look at me and touch me, I'm going to spill my seed, and I am trying to spare you that."
She looked like she was trying to work something out. "And if you spill your seed, I wouldn't be a virgin anymore and I might have a baby?"
He took a deep breath and swallowed. "No, only if I was inside you." With every word of this conversation, his pants felt tighter, and he felt closer to bursting.
Y/N shrugged. "Then why can't I help you feel better, the way you helped me?"
Dean tried to come up with an explanation, but all he could manage was to shake his head as his body screamed for release.
Y/N moved closer to him and reached for the button on his pants. He grabbed her wrist quickly to stop her. They sat like that a moment, before Y/N whispered. "Don't hide yourself from me."
Her words and the look of desire and heat that flooded her gaze tore down the last of Dean's control, and he sagged back against the pillows, dropping her wrist.
She shifted so that she was sitting on her knees beside him and reached for his top button again. She undid it and pulled down his pants and underwear at once. He lifted his hips to help her and soon his cock was springing free of the confinement that had tortured him for hours.
Y/N gasped and sat back on her heels. She stared with wide eyes before blurting. "That's supposed to fit inside me? It's too big!"
Dean groaned and laughed at the same time, so it sounded a little like he was coughing. "Damn, you do wonders for a man's confidence." He grinned at her wickedly. "But trust me, it fits."
She stared at him a while longer before leaning forward again and reaching to run her fingers through the line of hair on his stomach. Unlike the last time, he didn't stop her, allowing himself to revel in the sweet torment.
He watched her reach out her hand timidly and touch the head of his shaft with a fingertip. He sucked in a breath from the jolt of fire her touch brought. She pulled back, and looked into his face. "I'm sorry! Did that hurt?"
He shook his head and his voice was very strained. "No, but yes. Sorry that doesn't make sense."
But Y/N nodded and her smile was a little naughty. "Yes, it does. It might not have a couple of hours ago, but it does now. Do you want me to continue?" She seemed to be asking a question to which she already knew the answer.
Y/N looked at Dean, his face taut, his muscles tense, and she knew two things; this was the most beautiful man she would ever see, and she had the power to bring Dean the same kind of fiery torment and blissful release he'd given her.
She reached out to stroke him again.
His hands balled into fists and a guttural sound issued from his lips.
She leaned down and placed a kiss on the very tip of his shaft. His body shuddered and a tiny amount of liquid seeped from the end. She rubbed the liquid into his skin with her forefinger. "Is this your seed?" she asked, still interested in learning. Dean only grunted, but she took it as an affirmative.
She continued to run her fingers up and down the silky smooth skin that covered the ramrod hardness under her hand. Dean's breath came hard and fast. She was having fun exploring, placing a kiss here and there along the length. 
After a few minutes, Dean pushed himself up on his one elbow, moving so that he laid sideways. He took hold of Y/N's hand and showed her how to wrap it around his shaft and move it up and down. Gently at first, and harder and faster as the heat and fire in his gaze built and built. She knew he must be getting close because his body was bucking under her hand just as hers had, instinctively thrusting. The action made something primal in her begin to ache again.
Finally she saw white liquid begin to spurt out of his body before he rolled himself into the sheet and buried his ragged shout into the pillow.
As his body continued to spasm, she ran her hand up and down his hip and over his backside which was round and firm. After his breathing returned to something resembling normal, he rolled onto his back again and Y/N took the chance to lie down across his chest. Her sheet was long gone, but she didn't care. She simply allowed herself to enjoy the amazing feeling of Dean's warm, smooth skin against her own.
She laid her hands on top of each other in the middle of his chest and propped her chin on them, so she could see his face. His eyes were closed and his face was completely relaxed. She drank up the sight of him like this.
He opened his eyes and she stared, drowning in his mossy green eyes. It suddenly occurred to her that this may be one of the last times she would ever look into his magnificent eyes and she felt tears spring up.
Dean frowned and caught a tear on his thumb as it fell. "Hey, what is this?"
She shook her head and smiled slightly. "Oh, it's nothing. I just wish I hadn't waited so long to do this. We could have days. Now we have only hours." She looked at the clock on his bedside. "And not many of those. You're leaving in less than eight hours, and I have to leave your room very soon."
Dean stared at her for a long time before speaking. "Y/N, the last thing I want to do is upset you or make you angry again. But…" he hesitated and in his hesitation, Y/N knew what he was going to say. "Come with me."
Y/N wasn’t insulted this time, and she wasn’t angry, because she knew now how desperately she wanted to do it. She knew what he was really asking of her. He wasn't trying to defile her or make her into something dirty. He was asking her to come and spend the nights with him like this. And she'd spend time with him, letting his sharp, and occasionally silly humor fill her days, she'd go out to parties with him, let him spoil her with jewels and expensive things.
She wanted so badly to say yes. But into the beautiful pictures in her imagination came the blinding knowledge that she'd have to say goodbye to all her other dreams.
She'd never find a compatible husband, or live in a pretty, respectable little cottage, and she'd never have children. She would never allow children to live the shame of her choices. She knew just how it felt to be ostracized and stared at as though you were vermin. She could never put a child through that.
She sat up and pulled the sheet around her again, moving to the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, Dean. I just can't."
He sighed. "Why not?"
She looked over her shoulder at him and decided she could give him the truth, plain and simple. "My mother was a kept woman, and I've spent my life trying not to repeat her mistakes, trying to pull myself as far away from her life as possible. I can't simply ignore a lifetime of dreams and hopes."
Dean looked like he wanted to argue and tried to start a sentence several times. But finally he sighed deeply and fell back onto the pillows.
"Fine. I understand."
Tears came again and Y/N knew she had to go now or she might never leave his bed. She got up and picked her nightgown up off the floor.
Dean sat up again. "Wait, why are you leaving now? We have at least another hour before you need to sneak back."
He grabbed her hand as her head emerged from her nightgown and it fell to cover her completely. "Don't go yet."
But she shook her head. "I can't Dean, I…" she swallowed. "If I'm ever going to leave, I have to leave now."
She pulled out his grasp and moved toward the door. Dean pulled his pants up over his hips and followed her. As she reached the door she turned back and smiled at him, tears still falling.
She reached up, placing her palm against his cheek. He took in a quick breath and raised his chin. She felt a muscle jumping in his jaw.
"Thank you, Dean."
He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"You're welcome, Y/N."
She took one long last look into his eyes before she ran out the door, terrified of what she was leaving behind with him.
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Tag Lists:
Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:
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@lacilou
@deans-spinster-witch
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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:
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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:
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@avanatural
@mrsjenniferwinchester
@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone
@deangirl96
@stoneyggirl2
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
Text
mask on
for @steddie-week prompt 'free space' AND part 3 of the camboy steve series (yes you should read parts 1 and 2 first, but this could be read on its own)
I did also follow the @steddiemicrofic word count 1111 and prompt 'one', but it is not technically a standalone fic so that part was just to see if I could do it (I could but at what psychological cost)
rated e | 1111 words | check ao3 for tags
🔴⭕🔴⭕🔴⭕🔴⭕🔴⭕🔴⭕🔴
Despite the fact that Eddie made more than enough money to pay for Steve’s needs and wants, Steve insisted on making his own money. Being on tour with Eddie definitely made that more difficult, but he found plenty of opportunity while the guys were on stage.
He went to the first couple of shows when he first joined Eddie on tour, watching from the sidelines, but decided he needed to use his time wisely. Now, he sat on the tour bus, using Eddie’s bunk as his recording and photo studio.
He paused live streams for a while because of it, always a little worried someone would interrupt. Plus, Eddie wouldn’t be able to be on them and that just wouldn’t do.
But they were finally stopped in a hotel for one single night, a rarity on the road as Steve had come to learn, and he had an idea.
Eddie insisted he do a live stream, and Steve insisted Eddie be a part of it.
“You can wear a mask and make sure your tattoos are covered. I promise we can be careful,” Steve begged. “I just want your hands on me. I think people will like it.”
So here they were, Eddie in a sort of silly masquerade mask, his leather jacket, and leather fingerless gloves that Steve didn’t even know he owned, camera angled so very little of Eddie would be shown while he did whatever he wanted to Steve.
“Can you behave yourself with others watching us or are you gonna get weird?” Steve asked as he stripped to just his underwear.
“Don’t know what you mean about weird. I can be normal.” Eddie lied.
“Right. Well, try to stay quiet as much as possible so no one recognizes your voice,” Steve continued as he got in position. For once, he didn’t have to worry about turning on the stream or turning it off; Eddie would handle that.
“You’re enjoying being in charge a little too much for someone who won’t be in less than a minute,” Eddie smirked as he ran one finger down Steve’s thigh. “Or did you think I was letting you run the show?”
Steve couldn’t hold back a whimper at Eddie’s tone and soft touch. He thought he knew what was coming, but with Eddie’s possessiveness, he couldn’t really be sure.
“It is myshow.” Steve couldn’t help being just a little bratty. Eddie had been gone all day doing interviews, hence the hotel room, and he missed him.
“We’ll see.”
As soon as the stream started, Steve gave a brief explanation of what was happening, but most of his viewers wanted to get to the good stuff. They’d been waiting a while for another live stream.
Eddie didn’t hesitate to get started once Steve nodded to him. He held his hand up in a small wave, but stayed turned towards Steve as he brought one gloved hand down in a hard smack against his barely spread thighs.
Steve didn’t hold back the moan at the sting of the leather glove against his bare skin.
Eddie didn’t need to say anything for Steve to know exactly what he would say.
One slap wouldn’t be enough, just like one kiss was never enough.
“More,” Steve begged as he parted his thighs more, letting everyone see his already hard cock. “Please.”
Eddie smiled devilishly as he ran both hands up and down his legs, leaving Steve on edge and nearly shaking with want. How did he always do this so quickly?
The leather hitting the same spot as before was almost too much already. Steve glanced down to see red spreading, probably trying to form in the shape of Eddie’s hand. With another couple hits, it just might.
The messages were piling in so quickly, Steve could barely read them, but Eddie had it under control. He slapped his other thigh before stepping away and letting out a laugh at something he saw on the screen.
Eddie wiggled his fingers in front of the camera, then wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock, rougher than he usually was. The leather was surprisingly soft, but his grip wasn’t, and Steve did all he could not to curl into a ball as Eddie’s hand tightened and released.
“They sure do know what you like,” Eddie groaned in his ear as he leaned over him, his hand moving from Steve’s length to pinch his nipple. “But I know better, don’t I?”
Steve nodded, already too overwhelmed to speak.
Eddie taps him once, a silent check-in so he knows if he needs to slow down or stop. Steve taps him back three times for green, for good, for don’t stop.
He slaps his cheek, not nearly as hard as his thigh, just a test, a warning for more. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, but it’s different in front of an audience, even if the audience is through a screen.
The next slap is harder, makes Steve whine as his head turns to the side.
The camera isn’t focused on his face ever, but he knows the viewers can hear the sound of the slap and Steve’s answering noises.
Again, and the other side, and again.
“Spit.” Eddie orders, just when Steve’s pretty sure he’s going to come from just Eddie’s hand on his face.
Steve spits into Eddie’s gloved hand, curious about what his goal is.
Curious if this was a request from someone.
The feel of the leather– now wet with his own spit– against his leaking cock, was new.
“C’mon, angel, gimme one so we can give them a proper show,” Eddie said, voice low and demanding.
And as much as Steve wanted this to last a bit longer, he couldn’t resist giving Eddie what he wanted. He always wanted to please him, even when his job was to please his subscribers right now.
Steve let out a muffled scream as he came, a gloved hand covering his mouth as the other worked him through it, his cum making the glide easier.
“Ruined ‘em,” Steve whined against Eddie’s hand.
“Hm?” Eddie asked as he pulled away.
“Gloves are ruined.”
“Nah, bought them just for this,” Eddie pecked the top of Steve’s head before standing up and looking at the messages pouring in. “Everyone wants another one.”
“Then I guess we better give them one.”
Eddie made him lick his own cum off the glove before he grabbed the lube and slowly worked him open, one finger at a time, until he was stretched enough to take the plug he’d chosen.
As Steve came again, Eddie shut off the stream.
“Mine,” he growled against Steve’s neck.
“Yours.”
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miloformula123fan · 8 months
Note
PART 2 OF THE LOGAN SISTER FIC PLEASE
okay, I know this is short, and yes part 3 is coming and yes it is angsty but I need to get it done
lmk if you want to be added to the taglist, anyone tagged is just people who asked for a second part :)
Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.
also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better
part 1 is here
part 3 is here
george russell x sargeant!reader
---
“SO YOU’RE TELLING ME OUR ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP WAS A LIE GEORGE.”
“No, no, it wasn’t. Y/N, you have to understand…-”
“UNDERSTAND WHAT? THAT YOU TREATED MY BROTHER LIKE A HUMAN BEING JUST SO I WOULD FUCK YOU? OUR ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP WAS BASED ON YOUR KINDNESS WHICH WAS A LIE! WHY, WHY WOULD YOU FUCK MY BROTHER OVER LIKE THAT JUST TO WIN A GIRL?” she took a deep breath ‘I’m done.’
“What? What do you mean, you’re done.”
She looked won, took another deep breath and looked George in the eyes. ‘I meant, I’m done george. I’m done with this relationship. I’m finished. I can’t forgive you after learning that our relationship was based on you treating my brother like a decent human being, and you planning on winning me over ike that. Well congratulations it worked. And now you’re back to treating my brother like absolute shit, because you finally got the girl. Congratulations. If you want to ‘win me back’, then maybe start with treating my brother like a human being again. But you’ll have to do more than that, Russell.’
And she walked out. George put his head in his hands. He’d signed so many NDAs, you would’ve thought he wouldn’t have left his laptop open and unlocked, particularly with Logan coming over. He really should remember to close his old files. Particularly when your girlfriend, no ex-girlfriend, had looked through your old powerpoints and found an old presentation he’d made to alex about how he was planning on wooing y/n. With the first slide being ‘treat logan nicely.’ and yeah maybe after he’d started dating y/n, his priority to include everyone had fallen behind.
And yeah, Logan was nice. He had learnt that after many morning jogs and coffees and dinners and hanging out after races. He still remembers how scared he had been a year ago, when he had first officially met Y/N.
“Well, then why is he telling me that there have been 2 people, Oscar and Alex, who have actually welcomed him to F1. Everyone else has snubbed him and he doesn’t understand why you don’t like him. He’s lonely. So fucking sort your shit out.”
And he had. Or at least he had tried. And Logan had really warmed up to him and started participating in the driver evenings, but George always visited his house, partly for the runs, partly because his trainer was less strict and he could make a better breakfast at Logan’s, and maybe partially for the hope that Logan’s sister would rock up.
And then she had. And logan had still been asleep. And she obviously still was a professional athlete so she had been more than willing to do a run with him. And then have breakfast when Logan had finally stumbled out of his bedroom. And then get her phone number
And then yeah maybe he had deserted Logan, assuming he now had enough interaction with the rest of the grid to be okay.
Until Logan had called Y/N last night, asking her to come over because it turned out the grid had gone to dinner without him, and he was feeling a little hurt. And she had promised to once George got home, and then she had absolutely laid into him. And now she was gone, presumably to Logan’s and George didn���t know what to do.
---
taglist: @folklorsweet @the-untamed-soul @thatgirlmj @cstads-blog
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irisintheafterglow · 8 months
Note
hello!! I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night ^^ I was wondering if u could write about bakugou x deaf reader? Like bakugou’s mom is HOH (which is why she’s always screaming :0) and bakugou knows sign because of that so he can communicate w deaf reader which surprises them!
simple complication, miscommunication (pro!bakugo x deaf!reader)
wc: 2k
cw/tags: established relationship, story of first meeting, strangers to lovers, implied fem!reader but no specific pronouns used (reader does use makeup), guy being an asshole but it's ok because kats scares him away
note: hi!!!! this is probably one of my favorite (if not THE favorite) prompts i've ever received. i'm actually majoring in deaf studies and focusing on increasing deaf/HOH rep in popular media. SO! i really love this prompt. i'm hearing, so i'm always still learning from the deaf and HOH community and acknowledge that i have a lot more to learn! because of this, this is mainly from kats' perspective because i don't think it's appropriate for me, as a hearing writer, to write from the perspective of a deaf reader. i talked way too much, sorry for the long note, and i hope you like this!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous to see his own mother. 
For the twentieth time, he confirmed that the windows were clear of smudges, the floorboards were as shiny as his Hero Award trophies on the living room shelves, and the wiring on the doorbell light was functioning correctly. Everything was as it should have been. Still, an anxious churning in his gut tells him something is wrong and he throws the front door open without thinking, determinedly jabbing his thumb against the button next to the doorknob. As usual, the bright orange light by the “FRONT DOOR” sign above the hallway flashes once. Everything was working as it should have been, so he couldn’t pinpoint why he felt so nauseous. He tests the door light several more times and completely forgets that you were getting ready in the bathroom. 
When he spots you, you’re wearing his bathrobe and a makeup brush is tucked behind your ear. Your eyebrows furrow in concern of why the door light started flashing an hour early as you peek out from the hallway. He gives you an apologetic look, the corner of his mouth turning down in clear dissatisfaction. 
Sorry. Testing the door light. Your mouth opens into an oh of understanding and you nod, taking note of the subtle ways your boyfriend was trying to hide his nerves. His head appears around the corner of the door when you knock your knuckles against the wall to get his attention. 
You’re gonna break your jaw if you keep it clenched like that. His frown only deepens and he can tell you’re trying not to laugh from the way your eyes sparkle. It’s nice that you’re excited to see Mrs. Bakugo again, but he’s already anticipating the tidal wave of disapproving comments about the new place you recently moved into together. Shut the door, Katsuki. You’re letting the warm air out. He reluctantly obeys, following you down the hallway to the master bathroom and hopping up onto the counter to watch you finish your makeup. He’s careful to sit in a spot where you can sign without having to turn to face him; you catch his eye in the mirror’s reflection and put your brush down with a sigh, raising your eyebrows expectantly. Food done? You already know all his dishes have been done since this morning, but you’re still trying to help him take inventory of the things he doesn’t need to worry about anymore. 
Just need to throw some extra stuff on the salad. I’ll do it before we eat. You nod, returning to tapping a neutral color onto your eyelids when you catch his shoulders sag as he huffs. The makeup brush is carefully set down again and your eyebrows return to their expectant position. 
Wanna tell me why you look so… Your fingers flutter around absentmindedly for a few seconds while you look for the right word. Dejected? 
I’m not dejected. 
Your pouty lip says otherwise, you respond with a small smirk. I’ve loved you long enough to read your body language, no matter how stiff or angry. You scrunch your face up in mock wrath and that finally makes him break the tiniest ghost of a smile. Tell me, please, so I can help you. He shakes his head and you set your mouth in a thin line in light-hearted irritation.
You don’t need to help with anything. My mom can just be a lot sometimes. You know that. You shrug, fondly remembering the first time Katsuki brought you to meet his mother. To your boyfriend’s horror, his mother got so excited to sign that she knocked over her wine glass on three separate occasions. And she really likes you, so she might end up accidentally revealing some embarrassing shit about me. 
That’s what I’m hoping for. You shoot him a wink and Katsuki can feel his face become a little warmer. I’m praying that the woman brings baby photos. His face turns a deeper shade of red and you burst out laughing, your smile a sight that he’d never get tired of. Hey, you rap your knuckles against the marble again and force him to look at you. We’ve seen scarier stuff than your mom. 
At least in those situations, I can blast my way out. 
Sure. But, if you blast your way out of tonight, you’re paying for property repairs. He sticks his tongue out at you defiantly and you copy the gesture, smiling to yourself when he slides off the counter and wraps his arms around your torso, resting his chin where your neck meets your shoulder. Your fingers gently trace his cheekbones and he meets your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. We’ll be fine tonight, Katsuki. I promise. Can’t be any worse than our first meeting, hmm? You feel his chest rumble against your back as he groans, hiding his face in your skin as it heats up again. 
The first time you met Katsuki was a very abnormal case of wrong place, right time. A high-threat crime boss had swiped a political candidate off the street the night before the most important debate of the season, following him as he went out to pick up snacks for his assistants. The candidate was a passionate supporter of public policy protecting the liberties of Pros, and to lose him right before an election would be catastrophic for agencies across the country. To the rest of the city, it was a public emergency; for Katsuki, it was a Tuesday night. 
“Pro on the scene, clear out!” His boots cross the police tape and the cops part the way for him like he was an activated grenade, avoiding his gaze and conveniently finding new tasks that were out of his firing range. Someone from some federal agency approaches him blabbing nonsense about how disastrous this would be if the press arrived and he all but tunes them out, his focus zeroing in on a scene happening just outside of the barricaded perimeter. 
It wasn’t uncommon for policemen to command passing civilians to keep moving, but something about the confrontation he quietly approached felt different. In any other case, the civilians would ask the police about something they weren’t allowed to disclose and then they would leave, maybe sticking around to get their ten seconds on the nightly new segment. You were clearly not like those civilians.
“Hey! I’ve got a job to do, so you better get the hell out of here or I’m gonna charge you for disturbing a crime scene!” The cop was screaming at you to the point where his voice broke and you didn’t even flinch, continuing to stare daggers into him from pure frustration. He tries to yell again and you cut him off with a series of ridiculously exaggerated gestures, looking at the policeman like he was dumb as rocks. “I don’t have time for this, and I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying!” But Katsuki does. 
“Oi!” The cop doesn’t hear him as he storms across the concrete, palms crackling. 
“Fuckin’ crazy–” You look ready to bite off the accusatory finger the cop points in your face when a strong gloved hand wraps around the asshole’s wrist, unceremoniously shoving him out of the way to listen to you himself. “Who the fuck–”
“Get lost, fuckface, and take the uselessness with you,” Katsuki seethes, putting just enough heat into his hands for the guy to yelp and scurry away. He turns around to find a scowl intense enough to rival his own and he takes a deep breath, wordlessly encouraging you to take one too. You watch with caution as he tugs his gloves off and stuffs them in his belt. Sorry about him, he signs and you blink, taken aback. These kinds of scenes make everyone on edge more on edge. 
You know sign?
My mom, she’s hard of hearing. Growing up, she taught me sign as a second language. You nod, still eyeing him a little suspiciously. I need to get back to work, but I just want to apologize for him again. You look like you’re about to respond but he looks down, fishing through a pouch of his belt and pulling out a crumpled slip of paper. This is some coupon I got a while back from a business we saved. Buy yourself a coffee. You take the ripped rectangle with a look of disgust and shock and he nods politely, turning to leave. Before he’s even one step away, he finds himself being yanked backward by the collar of his shirt, readying his Quirk to fire on pure instinct and whirling to stare you down like a bull facing a matador. His palm is scorching against your skin when he grabs your wrist, but you don’t relent. What the fuck are you doing? 
I know where they took him. Give me a map and a marker. His eyes widen and he loosens his grip but doesn’t let go, gently guiding you around the barricade, through the crowds of cops, and into the detectives’ truck. He pushes past the people surrounding the table and pulls up a digital map of the city on the touchscreen. 
Everything’s electronic now, so use this as your map, he explains and you nod in understanding, hesitantly tapping a finger on the screen and receiving a bombardment of paragraphs about crimes in the area. Dynamight’s hand moves up and down at the edge of your vision and you look up, still unsure how you’re supposed to use such a complicated piece of technology. I know. It’s over-engineered and stupid. Do you know the exact address where they took him? You shake your head and he grimaces, running a hand through his hair.
I don’t know the address, but I know the directions of how to get there. On this map, where’s the convenience store? His pointer and index finger swipe around the screen, spreading out as he zooms in on the 2D representation of the site where the candidate was taken. You copy his actions and zoom out slightly again, making sure to remember which rectangle was the convenience store. Is there a way to draw on this? Dynamight pushes a button on the edge of the table and a marker pops out. Cool.
It’s the only cool function this thing has. Everything else just makes my job harder, he signs and swears he can see the slightest smile on your face while he hands you the marker. Miraculously, you’re able to copy the navigation route you saw on one of the thug’s phones while you waited in line at the convenience store. You circle the building in bright pink and the Pro wastes no time, barking out orders to surrounding cops and re-donning his gauntlets and one glove. His ungloved hand helps you down from the truck and he pulls you aside, away from the commotion of the crime scene. Do you live near here? 
A few blocks down, yes. He fishes around a pouch on his belt again and retrieves a black ballpoint pen, handing it to you despite your obvious confusion. 
Write down your address, he signs and he holds out the back of his ungloved hand to you. 
Why? 
I’ll come find you after we make the arrests. Maybe you can let me buy you a coffee. A smirk appears on your lips and Katsuki finds his face heating up. 
Is it gonna be with the tattered coupon? He rolls his eyes and you laugh, a sound that he finds he wants to hear again and again. You later explain to Katsuki and the detectives that you were questioning why the guy in front of you had his brightness so high, and the visual eavesdropping was purely by accident. Everything following the investigation felt like happy little accidents, too: Dynamight showing up at your door one night with two coffees and the last muffin the cafe had, Bakugo crashing onto your apartment’s fire escape after a particularly dangerous operation, Katsuki asking you out to dinner officially for the first time, his mother spilling her wine several times the first time she met you. 
You knew you were in for a lifetime of more accidents when Mrs. Bakugo burst through the door fifteen minutes early, excitedly asking what venues you were looking at for your upcoming wedding. 
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alaynestcnes · 2 months
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“evidence upon evidence upon evidence” and it’s just chapter order and stuff like “oh jonnel is definitely the same as jon” (which is basically saying alysanne is the same as alys) or val being blonde means she could be redheaded in certain lights. it’s still all a REACH so no evidence for romance
Looks like you have some gaps in your jonsa knowledge so I’ll help you out a little 😊
A good place to start would be the jonsa compendium with at least 18 points of independent in-text evidence (not including the broader fun stuff like lotr lit parallels). We can also talk about the multiple allusions to Sansa being betrothed to a Targ (not including the ashford tourney theory already included in the compendium); here, here. Some other little tidbots I enjoy (a la 'blood of winterfell', jon/joff parallels, little in-text parallels, and too many others to mention) are in my parallels tag.
There are the BNFs/theorists who have speculated on jonsa; Alt Shift X and Adam Feldman have both found Jonsa to be significant enough to mention. They’ve been invited to have dinner with GRRM, and he has said Adam Feldman ‘really gets’ asoiaf. So, I kinda hold these theorists as just a bit more credible than whatever the twitter/reddit stans have to say.
And I know you brushed off the chapter analysis but let’s remember that GRRM has said that he is very particular about the sequence of scenes and chapters. So, it’s not absurd to say that the construction of the chapters is something that we should be paying attention to. Ignoring that is fine but don’t pretend like it’s Jonsas reaching, when it’s just your own blind bullheadedness. That being said, here’s an almost never-ending post analysing the in-text Jonsa parallels and references. And a literal excel sheet providing And then here there's how whenever Jon or Sansa's chapters have a focus on love and marriage, then the other will almost always closely follow.
That's my little english lit seminar done, but I hope you're not too tired bc we've still got our AP hisory and political science class to go! GRRM has stated before that class is important (especially in relation to marriage) and he hates medieval-set stories where the highborn lady happily runs off with the stableboy. So, it's safe to say that Sansa will not be marrying any old glup shitto the fandom wants to pair her with. Her range of suitors is very, very limited. "Jonnel is definetly the same as Jon"...well, if the shoe fits? Like it just lines up too well, it's just a bit cheeky of GRRM to sow issues of northern succession in ASOIAF, all while providing a precedent for an inter-Stark union as a solution to a very similar issue. You could also make the case that Jonnel/Sansa is more of a foil for Jon/Sansa than a direct parallel (as instead of Jon marrying Sansa to supercede her claim, Sansa will choose to marry Jon in order to secure his position after Targ reveal). And really, is this anymore delulu than something like the Jon/Tyrion/Dany three heads of the dragon theories you see around?
Anywaysss this is just a fast and loose run down and better people than me have developed more comprehensive archives of the ever-extending jonsa meta universe, so please supplement your learning with some independent study: here, here, here.
So yeah…the evidence is a little bit deeper than Jon/Jonnel or Val/Sansa. I’m not trying to preach but calling Jonsa out on a lack of evidence or that we’re reaching for anything is giving very much illiterate on your side. If you wanna come into my ask and be a hater again pleassseeee at least do your research first. Next time there will be a quiz before I take anything you say seriously.
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creekfiend · 8 months
Note
a lot of what i've read in your antipsych posts is also stuff my therapist straight up said about psych institutions when i was approaching a mental breaking point a few years ago. when it became clear how Bad i was doing, she was like "okay we need to find any interventions to get you to a point where you don't end up in a psych ward, bc even if they're acutely lifesaving, people invariably leave with more trauma than they went in with. they should be avoided." like this is a thing that ppl working in the space know about, even if most won't say it as clearly as she did.
i get the instinctual reaction towards the term antipsych, especially if you're someone who has had to deal with the crunchy tiktok/insta types who will tell you that all psychiatric medication is poison, but the posts in your tag are very clearly not about that. i actually rly appreciate getting to see the arguments for antipsych written out so clearly bc they articulate something i have personally felt for a while, which is that the people i care about who were institutionalized were not actually helped by that, bc the reasons they ended up there were straightforwardly related to external pressures and problems that didn't magically go away while they were in the psych ward.
anyways. i appreciate your existence. pls know that your posts have helped some people learn more. hope you and your excellent dogs have a good day/week/month/year.
that sounds like a good therapist. I also managed to find a therapist who is broadly antipsych and much of the work she does for me is like, physically placing her body and her respectability as a professional between me and institutions that might do me harm. it's really encouraging that more people are starting to approach it that way. I'm glad you found a good one!!! thank you for your message
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forest-reblogs · 1 year
Text
Red Robin: . . . The Court of Owls has a spaceship?
Danny: Who even are the Court of Owls? Why are they owls? Why aren't they, I don't know, pigeons or something?
Red Robin:
Red Robin: You know, I'm not actually sure. But why on earth would they be pigeons? Why not something cooler, like vultures?
Danny *violently flashbacks to the time he was attacked by ghost vultures that were paid by Vlad*:
Danny: *has a panic attack*
Red Robin: I fucked up.
Red Robin: *calms Danny down*
Red Robin: You know, I'm starting to wonder if you're actually a Talon. You seem too human to be acting.
Danny: What do you mean, I'm a Talon? Wait, do you still think a henchman for one of your rogues? I thought you believed me when I told you I was a ghost?
Red Robin: Well, I did, but then the Bat told me about Talon activity rising again, so I thought you lied to me.
Danny: This is why I don't like humans. You're all too complicated. Ghosts are simpler. We don't lie to each other at all, because there's no point, and if we don't like each other, we say it to the other ghost's face.
Red Robin: You ghosts are the antithesis of my family. We don't tell each other anything, even when we should.
Danny: . . . Your family are the Bats, I assume?
Red Robin: Yes.
Danny: They have no clue you're here, do they?
Red Robin: No they do not.
Danny: And what would happen if I really was a Talon and killed you? Or kidnapped you and took you to my superiors?
Red Robin: To be honest, I never even thought of that.
Oracle: I did!
Red Robin: What the - Oracle? What the hell? Wait, have you been listening this whole time?
Oracle: Yep. And just so you know, you are in so much trouble with the Bats right now, I'm pretty sure Nightwing is already planning your funeral.
Nightwing *over the comms*: So what flowers do you think we should have?
-------------------------------------------------------
Me: *casually disappears for two weeks*
I swear I'm gonna write something relevant to the plot in the next update, guys.
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eywamygoddesswrites · 2 years
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— 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓭 — (multiple x fem!reader) | 1
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pairing: avatar men x fem!human!reader
tags: just men taking care of the reader during her period, can be seen as platonic/romantic
warnings: like one pussy joke and that's about it HAHAHAHAHA
a/n: neteyam, lo'ak, ao'nung, and rotxo are aged up! this is for the men characters since i don't want it to be too long. the ladies of avatar will have their own post because let's all be honest, we love women. also i made this 'cause it's currently shark week and everything hurts ;-;
also sorry for the lack of any new fics. i'm hella hella busy with school and i have duties next week (just 3 days) but i will be in the hospital with no data sooooo yeah :cc and the rest are regular f2f classes. i hope y'all understand.
also, happy one month everyone!! i've been posting for one month now and i hope we continue this flowery road together 💙 anywhos, i hope you guys enjoy!
word count: 1.3k
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jake sully
this man was a human in his previous life, he knows what the fuck he was doing
when you got your period in the middle of work, jake (with his strong avatar senses) caught a scent of you
he asked norm where they keep women's pads and norm pointed to where they were
he got some pads and getting a few more stuff that you liked
some chocolate bar, a venti cup of coffee/juice/tea, and a heating pad
you were surprised when he stood beside you with said stuff in his hands
then you finally got the idea
oooooooohhhhh… is it that time already?
yes, baby girl. but don’t worry, i’ll help you
he goes with you until you reach the lady's comfort room
he gives you the pads and tells you to holler for him if you need anything else
waits for you while you do your thing
younger!jake would rock back and forth on his feet and bite off the skin of his lips (a habit i canon him of having) while he waited by the door
older!jake would go to get the stuff he forgot if he forgets and comes back before you knew he even left
once you were done, he suggests you take a rest now before the cramps start
you told norm this and being the great friend he was, he lets you go rest
jake would be there for you like your personal cocoon
he would massage you abdomen, lower back, head, or wherever you felt pain in
would get you whatever that is you need
just honestly the best in the bunch since he knew what human women go through
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neteyam sully
you yo daddy’s son !!!11!1!!
but for real, he’s like a mini jake with neytiri’s face and her nurturing aura
he learned how to care for human girls because of his dad
literally cried when you first got your period since he thought you were dying
but jake reassures him it’s a normal thing human girls go through (since na’vi girls and women don’t go through this | i agree with the fanon that na’vi women don’t get periods)
would learn basic human anatomy just so he understands what was happening during your periods
kinda scared because of the side effects of periods
would do anything and everything just for you to be comfortable during your monthly bleeds
since na’vi bodies were a lot warmer, he uses his hands as heating pads to put over your abdomen
would purr when you’re on his chest as he massages your lower back
sings his songcord to you to lull you to sleep
kisses are a must with this man
would litter you with kisses to make you smile and feel better
he just loves you :ccc
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lo’ak sully
obviously, like neteyam, he knows that human girls get their period
he’s similar to neteyam but a bit different in his approach to periods
he didn’t really know what he was supposed to do at first
like, should he massage you or should he not because it might worsen your pain
do you like chips or chocolate more?
what pussy size you got because there are so many pad sizes—
tAMPONS ARE A THING WHAT—
lowkey scared of that thing and why tf does it go in?!>!?!
still, his effort counts really
it’s the thought that counts
he still helps you around (even with the smallest thing like grabbing a cup of water)
would follow your commands especially when the pain is unbearable and you need assistance
he would stay with you in your room even when you sleep just in case you wake up and need help (even if you told him it’s okay to go home and rest. he insists on staying)
would go to norm and ask for extra gas air when he runs out of it
would bring you some pandora fruits because weirdly, you crave them more than the regular food you eat
would treat you greatly 1000/10
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tonowari
like his son, he didn’t know what periods are so he asks his friend jake about it
upon learning what they were, he immediately goes into his ‘teddy bear’ mode
he would be cuddly as fuck
like  c u d d l y  cuddly
a cuddle bug for sure
he would always bring you fresh food to eat
would help around your home despite being a busy man himself
would treat you as if you were a porcelain doll
would weave you a reusable period underwear (with the help of ronal) so you can just clean them and reuse them
would do your laundry and wouldn’t be bothered by the blood stains at all
when you need him (especially when you’re a lot emotional), he would stay with you until you feel better
doesn’t matter if you fell asleep. he will do his duties once you wake up and say that you’re feeling better
only then he would be comfortable enough to leave to tend to his duties
would ask tsireya and ronal to look after you especially when he’s a lot busier and can’t go to you physically
overall like my man jake but a lot more domestic
would recommend to everyone
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ao’nung
he didn’t understand what a period is and why you got them because he didn’t care at first
you’re a sky person, the cause of distruction
but you were different (or whatever jake sully and his kids say)
but the more time he spent with you, he must at least learn what you go through, being your period
it was weird that you had to go through this every month until you become old
like, his mom and sister never got these so why were your kind cursed with them?
would ask jake or his kids what he can do to help you out
you stayed in a makeshift house with regular oxygen so you can eat without having the stupid mask on
ao’nung literally didn’t like the mask he has to breathe pandora air in but after one time that he didn’t use them, he didn’t like the feeling so he uses them religiously when he’s with you
he would bring you gifts and meals he caught so you don’t feel too isolated when you don’t leave your home
would ask you constantly what you were feeling and if you feel uncomfortable at every moment of the day
are you okay? does you abdomen hur—
i’m fine ao’nung!!
would still ask for confirmation if you’re really really okay
would carry you every time you leave your house (even if you went out to walk and stretch your legs)
shy with physical affection (hugs, kisses) so the most he can do is carry you
call it his love language in a way
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rotxo
he was absolutely lost when he sees you bleeding. like neteyam, he thought you were dying
he thought he would never see you again
but when you explained that human women bleeding was normal, he was like:
dude, that must suck so bad
it does, rotxo, it does
but still, he wants to help you out the best way he can
like the other metkayina men here, he would bring you food to eat and bring little trinkets to make you feel better
since metkayina bodies were a lot cooler than omatikaya bodies but still warmer than human bodies, he does his best to warm you up
he stays with you as much as he can just so he can help you
craving for a certain fruit? he’ll get it for you
need a soothing cream from ronal? he will get it for you
you feel tired? he can go into your home, use the stupid-looking gas mask to breathe and stay with you longer, and keep you company
he’s just a sweetheart man give him compliments pls
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taglist: @nyotamalfoy @hanhanartz @murderousmushroom @myvath @iwaslikeblah
— part 2 with the avatar ladies here
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queer-ragnelle · 7 days
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hello..👋👋
as someone who wants to get into arthurian legends.. where do you think I should start? is there a precise canon to follow? oh and.. this might be a stupid question but.. how would you describe guinevere's and lancelot's relationship...? i personally really like them because of what I've heard online, but i got shamed for liking it a while ago from people who really hated guinevere and said gawain or galehaut(not sure if i spelled it right) would be better for lancelot..
Hello anon!
I have a Beginner’s Guide to Medieval Arthuriana pinned on my blog. There’s no precise canon to follow, but you’ll get the most bang for your buck reading the works of Chrétien de Troyes and the Vulgate Cycle. Much of what Chrétien developed ended up in the Vulgate, like Lancelot rescuing Guinevere from kidnapping, but there are more elements added from other stories, such as Lancelot’s upbringing in the lake which originated from Lanzelet by Ulrich von Zatzikoven. On the other hand, Yvain’s journey as Knight with the Lion doesn’t make it into the Vulgate, so that’s worth reading on its own.
Regarding the part about people shaming you: block them if you haven’t already and anyone else who does so in future. I’m terribly sorry those people were unwelcoming as you begin to read and learn about Arthurian Legend. Let that not reflect on the community as a whole—there’s many lovely people here that’ll be happy to help you along. I hope you’re able to cultivate a positive online experience to the best of your ability and start enjoying the legends with us! :^D
But back to the fun stuff—I also really like Guinevere/Lancelot! My favorite dynamic is when Arthur is included too, but Guin is my number one pick for Lancey. ;^) It’s hard to describe them in so few words but I think it’s important to establish that they’re friends. This is an oft overlooked aspect that really deserves attention. They care for each other deeply. She helps him out of his madness and he helps her out of danger. This is something Arthur couldn’t do for either of them, much as he wanted to. That’s what makes the pair special, to me.
As for shipping wars about medieval characters….kinda ridiculous! And shaming other people over it is just abhorrent. I’m sorry you had to deal with that! Personally I enjoy Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot and Galehaut/Lancelot. I think it’s obvious I favor Gawain with his wife Ragnelle lol but Gawain/Lancelot is fine too. Gawain can have a little Lancelot. As a treat. I even enjoy “crackship” type pairings, like Bedivere/Lancelot or Kay/Lancelot or maybe a little [unrequited] Agravaine/Lancelot, and if the author or filmmaker chooses to write her in a positive light, Elaine/Lancelot as well. But that’s just it—there’s certainly no such thing as a “better” person(s) to couple with Lancelot. It’s literally fake. It’s fiction. It’s for fun! Doesn’t sound like the people you’ve encountered were having very much fun and put that on you, which was wrong.
Here I’d like to mention I run a discord server called the Arthurian Theater Server. Every weekend I stream TV shows and movies, mostly Arthurian, sometimes random fantasy. But it’s more than visual media—my friends and I share resources, character playlists, art we made, stories we wrote, we’ll liveblog retellings or newly discovered medlit translations, and discuss anything else Arthurian! We have custom made emojis for all the knights and ladies, a variety of original art stickers of the characters provided by several members, and an array of sounds bites ripped from films and TV for the soundboard to be played while streaming. Tumblr can be a little hard to navigate with the unreliable tag system, so this server is dedicated to an organized and moderated exchange of ideas and content. You’re welcome to join us!
Let me know if you have any other questions, it’s never a bother. Take care!
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