#you should not have to be told not all men. you need to self reflect. you're one of them.

[yelloworangesoda]

you tell a trans man that hes a man and that makes him a man and he starts threatening you

[weirdmageddon]

i was thinking about this since i posted earlier about us needing to address the trend of gen z men being pulled into alt-right pipelines might have contributed to the outcome of this election.

i think contrapoints is really smart, and from what i’ve seen, has been way more effective at getting people out of harmful ideological pipelines than i’ve seen from the majority of leftists online who instead berate and drive a greater wedge of antipathy (though i understand why! and it can be very hard to have empathy for the people who see you as a threat). that antipathy makes the right more radicalized because they don’t feel like they can talk about anything without the “crazy lefties” who won’t even engage with them. where did these issues come from?

what i’ve noticed, and i’m even guilty of this, is that people don’t interact with groups of people whom they refuse talk to, which makes realities more hypothetical in the minds of their opponent since they aren’t open to seeing reality from their perspective. this is true on both sides. from what i’ve observed, it seems to originate from hypothetical perception of the opponent, but when people treat those perceptions as though they are real, it becomes real with their actions, which then makes the antipathy justified to someone. again, on both sides.

what makes contrapoints so successful at breaking this down is that is that she creates these socratic dialogue skits that represent real people and ideologies, has a sense of humor, isn’t afraid to discuss these things, reframes how we see these things by introducing nuance to both sides. she’s a leftist, but she also knows how to engage without ripening division, of meeting someone halfway and being completely humble about it. she is able to soften extremes.

she is able to get into the mind of people who aren’t aligned with her views, understand the nuance and rationales from a realistic perspective, breaking down a big block of “this is all bad” into “ok, some of this makes sense…”, what this does is create a space for self-reflection that doesn’t feel ham-fisted (which could otherwise cause people to double down on their beliefs instead of opening up to other perspectives outside of their bubble). while also being entertaining and well-produced on top of it.

what she is doing is creating these scenarios and socratic discussions that SHOULD be happening in real life but aren’t in this polarized social climate.

i graduated from new college of florida this spring, the small liberal arts college that was in headlines across the country for ron desantis’s board of trustees hostile takeover and exodus of professors.

new students and student athletes from conservative walks of life were being basically incentivized to go there who were taught to fear the lgbt boogeyman growing up in their conservative communities. but once they actually interacted with lgbt students there, many of them they felt like they understood them, and they weren’t as bad as they were told they would be. new college of florida was also famous for getting derek black (child of the man who created stormfront, and godchild of the kkk grand wizard david duke) out of white nationalism. their peers at NCF called them out but also interacted with them, invited them to dinner. black wrote a book about it.

now of course some people are too far gone and you shouldn’t waste your time with them, like derek’s family for example. but i also think a lot of people who voted for trump are not informed, are operating off of emotion and knee-jerk mentality because it’s easier than thinking, and they are not seeing the discussions that need to be had to change their mind because fuckin…nobody is doing them.

and we feel this visceral disgust to people of the opposing party because of its associations. i just want to know how it happened and how we got to be like this. i think social media is partly to blame and also the algorithms that take people down dangerous pipelines and sharpen them, insulate them.

i myself understand the vitriol you might have for anyone that voted for trump. i feel so disappointed that half the people of this country voted against our collective benefit. and i’ve seen a lot of sentiment from the left today saying “every single person who voted for trump is dead to me. i disowned you”.

you can see the reality of trump’s demagoguery, and it’s so obvious, but what i want to know is: what do they see? why did they vote for him? emotion and entertainment travel faster and have more reach than reason. and it’s that’s why i think contrapoints’s videos are exemplary at tackling this ideological divide. this is something i’ve been thinking about for months before today and i thought now was a better time than ever to give my two cents on it.

[celaenaeiln]

Absolutely agree with your post. My friend once told me something like “it’s interesting to see how there are a lot of narratives within dick grayson’s stories that can be read as metaphors of rejection of someone’s autonomy—which is many times it happens towards/explored in female characters, e.g the robin mantle being ‘ripped away’ from him without his consent, his should have been ‘fate’ as talon, a tool for CoO” and when you add it with his canonical SA and the many times he gets objectified, another thing that media throughout the times write happened to/explored in female characters, it further cements the point of him occupying the (traditional) female character role.

OG post in reference

Thank you!!! Those are all excellent points to bring up!

You guys did a fantastic job of identifying core examples of where Dick is written for the female role. Every time I read him, I'm amazed time and time again how beautifully DC has written him. He's undeniably written as a man but he's unique in the way his characteristics overwhelmingly reflect typical female personality traits and his entire life story is written as if he were a woman. The relationships he has with people, he always subtly ends up in the female role.

Take the scene of him being objectified -

JLA/Titans Issue #3

This is exactly what it's like to be catcalled.

It's humiliating, uncomfortable, and scary. It needs to be addressed.

But here's where I oppose fandom's view on this. Fandom basically blames DC for scenarios like this where Dick is being harassed by other characters for his beauty or suggesting that Dick somehow encourages this behavior, but I think we should restructure our outlook.

Dick being objectified should be considered as one of his trauma's like his SA is. Like the way Jason death affected him, Stephanie's death affected her, or the way Tim's depression did him, Dick's constant sexual objectification should be analyzed as part of canon problem because it's relates to once again to how women feel in these exact situations. Note the way he is uncomfortable - the writers know what they're doing. They know it's wrong and if they're bringing up his reluctance time and time again, then this should be explored not as a fault of DC but as a problem he's forced to face.

DC uses Dick as a soundboard to broadcast the issues women face in a way that wouldn't be as problematic as if they did with other major female characters. Because doing such things to female characters is a little too political for a comic book and a corporate company so they take liberties through Dick instead. Some of the times they've written him seem intentional and other times it seems unintentional, but even with the way the later is written, it's because they're following Dick's standard characterization which was written to be the balance between men and women.

Another major, MAJOR point you bring up is autonomy.

Autonomy is the essence of his character.

Quick definition: autonomy is the right to self-govern. This means you're in control of your own actions, beliefs, and HERE IT IS - Freedom to do what you wish to.

From the moment Dick and Bruce started fighting, the problem with their relationship boiled down to one thing and one thing only. Freedom.

Given my other Bruce and Dick posts, I've mentioned how Bruce felt an increasing need for control over Dick while Dick felt increasingly furious at his freedom being taken away.

Even Azrael when he lost it for a moment. Batman!Dick

Batman (1940) Issue #709

Another point: For Bruce, all his enemies want him to break. They want him to turn evil but for Dick's, his enemies always want to him to follow them.

Yet the fact that Dick faces all this and continually fights this - he's girlbossing so hard.

That's why I like Dick so much. He breaks the gender roles. Because breaking gender roles isn't just painting your nails pink and saying you respect women. No. It means playing the traditional role of men and women both.

A man's typical role is strength, power, and competitiveness.

A woman's typical role is vulnerability, empathy, and intutition.

But Dick? Dick is one of the strongest fighters in all of DC, he's considered the best leader, and he's so brilliant he always wins his fights. But at the same time, he cries when he's heartbroken. He cares for children that aren't his own and citizens he doesn't know. He anticipates the emotions of his family and friends and loves them for who they are.

That's also a core difference between Bruce's treatment of the batfamily vs Dick's. Where Bruce rages at their disobedience and differences, Dick accepts them and encourages them. Another why Bruce is viewed as the father role of the family while Dick is viewed in the mother context. Evidence of this is pretty clear in Red Robin Issues #23 - 26 with the way Dick treats Tim vs the way Bruce treats him.

DC made Dick pretty on purpose and they wrote him like a woman on purpose while building him up as a man.

I'll iterate agin, he was built to fight male toxic masculinity and we should be looking at him through those lens. He's a complex, deep character that was meant to break gender roles by embodying both male and female characteristics and that's beauty of him.

[justmeinadaze]

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 8 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I was feeling some type of why and I think you'll figure it out as you read <3.

Warnings: Soft Dom Bodyguard Steddie/ Sub Singer Fem Reader, SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading (slightly), rough

ANGST: Dark Themes of addiction, overdosing, and relapse, mentions of domestic abuse with a previous partner, Y/N talks about her guilt when it comes to boys and how numb she feels over everything happening around her. Mentions of a parent in hospital, mother snaps at her and reader wonders why she's "not enough". Guys briefly talk about how her overdose affected them.

Word Count: 4116

Series here

Buy Me A Coffee☕ 

“Y/N, honey. You have to get back out there.”

It had been three months since your overdose and you were not doing well. The paparazzi and people on social media perceived you that way but inside you were fucking dying. Since you weren’t doing interviews, the stations were trying to get anyone they could in front of a camera. 

Simon’s mom cried, blaming you for his downfall while his sister insisted it should be you in the ground. Your previous agent made a statement expressing exhaustion at your behavior which is why HE let YOU go. People you thought were your friends like Allie talked about your vices and previous party lifestyle like it was something you used to enjoy. 

These people didn’t know you. 

They didn’t know what you were or had experienced. 

Sarah didn’t either but your new agent did genuinely care about your wellbeing. 

“Maybe, we can schedule like a controlled one on one with an interviewer you trust. You can answer some of those baseline questions and get your side out there.”

“What side, Sarah? Simon’s dead, I’m a diva and a delinquent. These are all facts.”

“No, Y/N, they aren’t. I know you and I know you’re not like that. You’re a good person and—”

Sighing, you get up and head towards the window, glaring through it into your many past memories. You were pushing everyone away including the two men who cared about you the most. You meant what you said when you told them you loved them which meant, to you, that you needed to protect them from the drama that was you. 

As their soft eyes followed you, you continued to ignore them as your agent heavily exhaled. 

“Ok. Ok. I understand. I’m not going to push you but as your old publicist I think we should at least release a small statement of some kind. Just text me what you want to say and—”

“’Fuck everyone. I am what you think I am.’”

Everyone in the room exchanges a glance before Sarah rises to her feet. After patting Steve’s shoulder, Eddie rises to walk her out, flashing her a reassuring smile before closing door. 

“How long are we going to do this, Y/N?”, the pretty boy asks as you continue to face away from him. “How long are you going to wallow in your self-pity?”

Your phone rings and you ignore it. You’ve been ignoring your phone in general which made them even more nervous. One of them always slept over while the other went home to change and grab some essentials. Even though you had the spare room they insisted on sleeping on the couch just in case. You didn’t sneak out nor did you want to. Your need for booze and drugs left when the numbness took over. 

“Miss Y/L/N phone. Security Mr. Munson speaking.”, he growled as he glared your way. Demeanor abruptly changing, he responded with a couple more uh huhs before glancing at the phone as it hung up. “Um, Y/N, that was your mom. Your dad… your dad is in the hospital. She said she just wanted you to know and then hung up on me.”

In your reflection within the window, they could see your eyes begin to water as you hugged your arms around your body. Since everything happened, they never once came to visit you nor did they try to call. This is the first time you were hearing from them and even from what Eddie told you, it sounded like they didn’t want you there. 

Anger suddenly clouds your mind as you stomp towards your bedroom and pull down your suitcase, throwing things inside of it haphazardly. 

“Would you like us to see when the next flight is available?”

“That’s not your job, Mr. Harrington. I have an assistant for that.”

“Yeah but we’ll be going with you so it’s not a problem.”

“No, you’re not.”

Chuckling sarcastically under his breath, Steve stepped forward till you felt his stomach against your side. 

“As your security, Miss Y/L/N, it is our job to keep you safe. That being said, we are going with you whether you like it or not but we will not interfere.”

“I can handle my family.”

“We know you can. You can handle them and we’ll handle everything else.”

“I said…no.”

“Fire us then.”, Eddie replied taking his place beside his friend. “Because that’s the only way we won’t go with you to protect you. Like Steve said, this is our job.”

Huffing, you zip up your bag and turn to head towards your phone to book the flight but instead bump into the man’s strong, broad chest.

“You two are no longer mine. I don’t need you to look out for me.”

“I didn’t hear the words ‘You’re fired’. Did you, Ed?”

“No, Harrington, I didn’t. That did sound like a breakup to me though. Which is fine. I guess we don’t deserve input into that conversation. Fuck us, right, sweetheart?”

Without saying another word, you walk away and allow them to take control.

***

When you make it to the hospital in your hometown, you pause just outside the room door with both men right behind.

“You have to open the door, ma’am.”, Steve instructed in a flat tone that pierced your heart.

They had been incredibly formal the entire plane ride, dressing up in suits, calling you things like “ma’am”, and not talking to you at all unless it was regarding anything job related. What you didn’t realize was it was taking all their energy to keep it together when all they wanted to do was scream. They loved you so much and once again they were being cast aside. 

They blamed themselves for crossing that emotional line with a client and Eddie finally made the choice that they should go back to the “proper etiquette”. 

“I haven’t seen them in ten years.”, you whisper.

They wanted to comfort you and tell you everything would be ok. That no matter what they were here for you but it seemed to them that is no longer what you wanted so they honored that by remaining silent. Clenching your jaw, you pushed open the barrier and sauntered through.

“We’ll be right here when you’re ready to leave, Miss Y/L/N.” 

After placing themselves on either side of the door inside the room, you stepped in further finding your father half-awake in a hospital bed with your mother holding his hand.

“Y/N? H-Hey, honey, what are you doing here? We told your assistant you didn’t have to come.”

“Eddie’s my security, mama, and I know but I just wanted to make sure dad was alright.”

“He’s doing fine. Just a little heart attack, no worries.” Your eyes widen at her words as she sighs. “I imagine the constant phone calls from your agent and the tv people didn’t help.”

“Hm. Maybe because something important happened to your daughter where I ended up in the hospital to.”

“Y/N, please. Not everything is about you. See this is why we didn’t want you here.”

Eddie’s posture stiffened as he forced himself to stay where he was and not drag you away from this toxicity. Sarah was right; this was the last thing you needed.

“This is why? Really? What about all the other times, huh? All the other times I got sick or offered to fly you down to come see me? Or the times I said I could fly to see you two and you told me no. What was the reason then?!”

“We are not having this discussion right now!”

“When then, mama!? When will I finally be enough for you!?” As she continued to ignore you, you began to sob. “Please! TALK TO ME!”

“Y/N…”, your father sighed weakly. “N-Now is not the time. Go…Go back to Hollywood and just…just go…”

Numbly, you nod as you turn around and push past the guys to hurry towards the elevator. 

***

As soon as you enter the hotel, you run to the kitchen and grab the wine bottle the concierge had given you as a gift but as soon as you try to open it, it’s yanked from your grasp. Steve pops open the top and you watch as he chugs some of it back before handing some to Eddie who does the same.

“I thought it wasn’t part of your job to keep me sober.”

“Your right it’s not but Sarah gave us specific instructions to keep an eye on you and since she’s been nothing but kind to us we don’t mind doing a little extra.”, the metalhead sasses as he tries to pour the rest of the bottle down the sink.

Shoving his chest, you try to grab the alcohol from his hand but he just holds it higher out of your grasp.

“Fuck you! You’re fired! Both of you!”

“Oh good. You can drink yourself to death, continue to spiral, and we don’t have to fucking watch!”

“GET OUT!”

“No problem, honey. We’ll leave as soon as we get back home.”

“I said NOW, Steven!”

“No, little girl. You don’t tell me what to fucking do. I was hired to protect you so that’s what we’re going to do until we get your spoiled, stubborn ass back home!”

When your hand flew, you immediately regretted the action especially when Steve’s head reared back around and his angry eyes locked with yours. The energy in the air was thick with a heaviness of frustration and pain but the need was stronger. 

That’s why you didn’t fight back when his large palm hooked around the back of your neck and crashed your lips to his. You didn’t realize how much you missed the taste of them as his tongue invaded your mouth and you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to pull him as close to you as you could. 

“You wanna play rough, little girl.”, he panted. “We can play rough.”

As he lifted you into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and he carried you to your hotel bed, tossing you onto the mattress. Quickly collecting yourself, you balanced up on your knees and shoved his chest hard. Steve barely moved at the action, lightly shoving you flat onto your back and pinning you down with one hand as he utilized his other to free his cock from its confinement. 

When he pressed the tip to your mouth, you remained still as you pressed your lips together. Tilting his head in amusement, he smirked at you as you squeaked at the feeling of your pants and panties being dragged down legs. A ringed palm spanked you hard and when you winced your mouth opened enough for Steve to slide his length down your throat. 

“Shit. That’s it. Take it like we’ve taken all your bullshit these past few months.” Eddie spanked you again as you groaned around his friend making him mewl as he threaded his fingers tightly in your hair, holding you still as he subtly thrust his hips. “Y-You want us gone, honey? Don’t worry. As soon as we get home, we’ll leave you be and you’ll never fucking hear from us again.”

The metalhead’s tongue clouded your senses as he flicked and sucked rapidly at your clit. Your hands flew up pet his head but he promptly grabbed your wrists and held them down. 

Allowing you some air, Steve backed away and listened as you whined while Eddie built you up. Climbing up your frame, he slid his fingers inside of you, pumping them at a brutal speed that turned you into a sobbing mess as both their faces hovered over yours. 

“You definitely taught us a lesson, sweetheart. Don’t worry. All of this was our fault. We never should have crossed this line… Being there for you, taking care of you, LOVING you… We’re so fucking stupid.”

Your eyes roll back as you cum and they didn’t even allow you a moment to breathe as they manhandled you onto your hands and knees. Spanking you again, you moaned at the feeling of Steve spitting into your cunt before guiding himself roughly into your core. He overwhelmed you immediately, his thick, large cock stretching your walls at an animalistic pace they had never used with you before. 

“Steve…”, you mewled as your head hung. Falling onto your back, his hand took hold of your chin as he rolled his hips and growled in your ear. 

“Does my dick feel good, Y/N? Yeah, I bet it does. Is this what you wanted? Us to fuck you like we fucking hate you. Mmph… because you hate us don’t you? DON’T… YOU…?”

“Yes!”, you whine through gritted teeth. “Yes, I fucking h-hate you!”

“What do you hate most, little girl? The fact that we were genuine and made you happy?”, Eddie asked gripping a handful of your hair as he stroked his cock in front of your face. “The fact that we treated you with fucking respect even though you always gave us attitude? Or was it the fact that we have never loved anyone as much as we love you? So much so that we were willing to ruin our careers to be with you.”

Steve’s breathing warmed your shoulder as his mouth fell open and he thrust into your harder. 

“We have feelings too, Y/N. I think you forget that. Together and individually, we’ve had many women break our hearts but congratulations, baby, you now take the cake.”

Your body trembled as you came and chanted his name as they let you go with him shoving your face into the mattress chasing his high till he released his seed inside of you. 

Eddie grabbed your waist, flipping you on to your back, placing himself between your legs, and pushing his cock into your entrance. His palm wrapped around your throat and you moaned at the feeling as he slammed his lower half roughly into yours. 

“Munson’s last girlfriend used him for sex and favors. She always wanted backstage passes to see and meet the other bands. With mine I found her cheating on me in our bed when I came home from a tour cut short. She didn’t even apologize or do anything to keep me around… Just kept fucking him as I threw some shit into a bag and left.”

“Aw, Harrington, look at—fuck—look at little girl crying. Does it feel that good? Good because this is the last time you’re ever going to feel us inside you so I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I bet you are. Can’t say I’m not going to miss this tight little pussy.”, he answered in a tone you knew was fake. He was trying to sound authoritative but he was hurting. They both were…

“Do you know why you’re the worst?” When you shake your head, the long-haired boy slows, pulling his cock back to the tip before pounding it back into you over and over having you see stars. “Because you actually made us believe you were going to be different. That if we let go ourselves and took the risk, you’d do the same.”

“I’m so sorry, Eddie. You—mmm—deserve better.” His rhythm faltered as his concerned eyes scanned your face. “That’s why I’m letting you go.”

“Why?” When you didn’t respond, he laid flat against you with his lips to your ear. “Tell me why, Y/N.”

“Because I love you. I love you both.”

As he pumps into you at a faster pace, your nails ran along his shoulders and down his back pushing him as close to you as you could get him. 

“Louder.”

“I-I-I love—”

“Louder.”

“Ah! I love you, Eddie! I love you, Steve!” You cling to him as you cum and he grunts against your skin as he does the same. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to be the reason for you to not be happy. I don’t want you to lose everything because of me. I—” 

Nicotine flavored lips cut you off as they softly kissed your own, silencing you as he gradually pulled out of your sore sex.

“Why am I not enough?”, you whisper. 

Steve lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bathroom, waiting as Eddie fills the tub with warm water. You allow them to clean you and take care of anything you needed with no words exchanged between you. As you wait for them to take you out however the metalhead is the first to speak. 

“You are enough. More than… we’ve told you that before but you still don’t believe it. You’ll never be enough, ma’am, until you realize that you are.”

Your bottom lips quivers as you listen to him speak. 

“Ma’am…”

“Yeah…ma’am. Until we get home that is.”

“You don’t have to…I mean you’re welcome to stay on…I was just…angry…”

“Maybe it would be best for everyone if we did leave.”

“Steve, please.”, you plead. “I am so sorry.”

His jaw tightens as he nods, pushing himself off the counter he was sitting on and heading back towards his bedroom. Hurling your body out of the bath, you practically ran to him as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit in my life especially after I started drinking and doing drugs. I’ve insulted people who were nothing but kind and been arrested for so many different things. I lost so many people I thought had my best interest in mind. None of that will ever compare to what I did to you two and not just within these last three months. I know I scared you when I overdosed.”

Steve breathily chuckled as pulled out of your grasp and turned to face you. 

“Scared us? No, Y/N, you TERRIFED us. We spent hours, fucking hours, looking for you and worried about who you might be with or what you were doing. I know everyone in your circle only cares about themselves but let me tell you what it was like for someone who actually gives a damn! Y/N, Simon was NOT a good man. He hurt you constantly not just emotionally but physically. He put his hands on you. I’m sorry that motherfucker is dead, I really am, but I can’t say I’m not glad he can never hurt you again.”

“Y/N, he knew you were sober but brought drugs over anyway.”, Eddie added. “Drugs you almost died taking. I don’t think you have any idea how much it destroyed me seeing you on the floor like that. Not just because I love you but I kept thinking, ‘Please God don’t let THIS be how she leaves the world.’”

His words hit your hard but not as hard as Steve’s next sentence. 

“I was—am—so fucking angry with you because it seems like…we’re not enough for you.”

Sobbing, you cling to him again, pressing your face into his bare chest as you break. After what feels like an eternity, his arms slowly rise as his fingers thread through your hair to hold you closer. Eddie does the same from behind, kissing your shoulder before resting his head against your skin. 

“Please don’t leave. Not yet. If you insist on going I’ll understand but wait till you find something first. Please.”

After they nod, both men guide you back to your bed and lay with you till you fall asleep tangled in their embrace.

##################

“I’m here with Y/N Y/L/N about three months after her overdose and I must say you look so healthy.”, the interviewer coos in a lighthearted tone. 

“Thank you. Physically I may be but I’m still struggling with a lot mentally and emotionally.”, you respond as you cross your legs in the chair you were in. 

Eddie and Steve were off to the side with Sarah, everyone keeping their eyes peeled as they take everything in. When you told your agent you were ready for a tv appearance, she found the easiest going person to take your exclusive but energies and allegiances could switch at any moment; she needed to be prepared. 

“I can imagine. What can you tell us about everything that you feel comfortable sharing?”

“Um, I did stumble a bit and relapsed but I did go to a 30-day rehab clinic. I’ve been trying to keep healthy relationships surrounding me but more than anything I’m learning how to be honest about what I’m feeling and my experiences.”

“That’s really good. Have you spoken with or made any kind of amends towards the Gates family?”

Sarah huffs as she begins to step forward, pausing only when you begin to speak. 

“I haven’t but I have heard what they have to say. I completely understand why they feel the way they do and I wish we could have gotten clean together. The truth of the matter is he never wanted to.”

“What about your friends and previous manager who say you were always the instigator struggling to—”

“That’s the key word here isn’t it? ‘Struggling.’ I struggled for years against an agent who only saw me as dollar signs and not a human being. He constantly pushed me past boundaries till I broke and even then he wanted more. I struggled with friends who only spent time with me to get free trips and VIP passes to anything while willingly providing me with drugs I should have avoided. I watched these people struggle as well offering to help financially anyway I can and in turn they sell me out for an exclusive.”

“I struggled with parents who never supported me and always see me as a nuisance. I haven’t seen them in so long but yet they still find ways to remind me I never became what they wanted. I struggled with Simon…hurting me constantly; calling me a whore and leaving bruises on me I’d find the next morning as I struggled to hide them. I struggled with my own self-image and always trying to understand why I was never enough. Why people only seemed to care about me when I had something offer…”

“I think the hardest thing I struggle with is how I don’t believe when people genuinely DO care that it’s real. My new agent and my security team are the only people I’ve felt safe with and yet I hurt them by pushing them away or ignoring them. I’m either afraid they’ll turn out like everyone else and hurt me or I’ll become the toxic monster everyone thinks I am and drag them down with me.”

“That being said, I’m, um, taking some more time to work on myself and continue to heal. When I come home, I’m going to finish my album, and focus more on the things I love.”

With that, you got up and walked out of the room ending the interview yourself. The sound of feet scurrying after you fill the hallway as your team chases after you.

“Y/N! Y/N, honey, that was amazing. You sounded confident and sincere and—” In the middle of Sarah’s sentence, you hugged your arms around her as she smiled and did the same. “I do love you, ya know?”

“I know. I love you to.”

You both giggle as she wipes her eyes careful not to smear her make up. 

“So you’re going out of town?”

“I’d like to go to Indiana. There are some people there I’d like to meet and learn more about.” When your eyes find theirs, you see many different emotions cycle through before landing on one you hope is good.

“Ok, just keep me updated and I’ll see you when you get back. I’m so proud of you.”

As soon as she leaves, you turn your body to face theirs. 

“If that’s ok…you’ve done so much for me and dug into my history to help me heal. I want to learn more about you…” As their beautiful irises continue to scan you over, you find yourself getting nervous as you began to fidget in place. “I mean, I should have asked but we don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I just—”

Fingers reach out to grip your jaw, pulling you forward as a set of lips firmly land on your own. 

“We can bring you home.”, Steve murmurs as his thumb caresses your cheek. 

After giving you a soft smile, he steps back allowing Eddie to tenderly kiss your lips as well. 

“I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”

“We know, sweetheart. We know. We love you to.”

##############

@rckstrbee @melodymishahiddlestan @nailbatanddungeon

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@needylilgal022

[plutoswrath]

ᴀꜱᴛʀᴏ ᴍᴜꜱɪɴɢꜱ 2: ʟɪʟɪᴛʜ - ᴀɴᴄɪᴇɴᴛ, ᴡɪʟᴅ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

TW: themes of abuse, power dynamics, sociology, misogyny. Astrology + politics mixed, I'm leftist after all, if that's not your cup of tea, skip this one and save yourself the rage quit lol. Women/femme presenting is an all inclusive term in this post!

So since a long time now I've been very intruiged by Lilith (mean, true, asteroid and waldemarth) but since we're most familiar with osculating Lilith and Black Moon Lilith, I will focus on these two specifically.

Keep in mind that there are multiple stories (even if it's just the tiny details that alter the story) and thus interpretations about Lilith, Lilith is also still very much unexplored in astrology.

But the stories of Lilith all do unite in the themes of demand, oppression, shame, morality, breaking free of limitations, isolation/ostracization, rage and autonomy. It’s about power dynamics, you and your raw self, all the desires and needs in relation to others/society. Lilith is described as dark and hidden because that’s exactly what we are taught to do with Lilith energy: hide it. Lilith is therefore often described as off putting, because nothing can be as uncomfortable as going against all reasoning and what you were told was ‘good’ and instead going by instinct and impulse. Lilith deals a lot with survivial. It can be both, a blessing in disguise or at times, a snake biting it’s own tail.

And before we dive deeper into Lilith, I want to say a few words on the practice of astrology, so you can get familiar with the way I use and practice it too:

Astrology is a tool to research our society/world and self, thus Lilith is a reflection of our societal circumstances and therefore you can't discuss Lilith without getting political and talking about misogyny/oppressive systems.

This does not (!) mean Lilith and its effects are limited to gender by any means, but because gender is a social construct, Lilith and it’s effects are influenced by the way we are socialized and by who we are politically. This is why people constantly find these weird power dynamics between men and women who share strong Lilith synastry in the first place.

Gender as we define it is not inherent in the stars and astrology, but our socialization will direct or at least set off the tone in which way certain astrological facts can develop potentially. This is why - very different to my usual approach - I do in fact want to highlight the performance and construct of gender in this take, because the themes of Lilith represent in the different roles and scripts that exist for men and women in our heteronormative society. It shows in the power dynamic that is created between those who are politically men and women or rather said those who are straying away from the script they we're ought to follow by those who hold more power over them. This is an universal experience that can be experienced by everyone, but I want to say that private and political self intertwine and it’s very much present in the stories of those who have experienced strong Lilith influence in their life. If you want to read further on my reasoning and understand my approach to astrology, you can read it here.

⇨ Sociology and politics aside, let’s get back to Lilith:

Naturally, because there is still a lot of mystery and complexion around Lilith, she is a very hot topic in synastry. But the assumptions of steamy sex and kinky encounters aside, and from what I've seen and studied, right now I'll go so far to say that when we deal with a (perceived) hetero relationship, it can only truly work out if the man involved absolutely sees the woman as an absolute equal and treats her as such. Even if difficulties arise and are set off by Lilith, both need to remain an be seen as an independend being with agency and acknowledge that at all times, no matter the decision. It's a choice both should commit to at the very beginning.

You think this is common sense in partnerships (should be at least) but Lilith has a very unique and personal relationship with ostracization, shame, humiliation, oppression and anger.

I often read that prominent Lilith contacts in synastry (but I'd add composite to that too!) need both partners to be healthy, functional (or at least have an idea of what that should be and look like) and communicate effectively and clearly, be vulnerable and honest. While this is definitely true, any strong Lilith energy in relationships between a woman and a man needs the man to dissect his views and held notions of women, I believe. Not that anyone should dissect and deconstruct what their internalized held beliefs of what gender, and what femme and masculine is, to begin with (duh), but I repeat my previous statement about Lilith’s themes: Lilith ultimately finds itself battling and dealing with power dynamics, because it represents you and your raw self, all the desires and needs in relation to others/society. Lilith is described as dark and hidden because that’s exactly what we are taught to do with Lilith energy: hide it.

The woman in the connection, especially if she is Lilith, will be the woman that will mentally have the man on his knees because her mere existence can challenge his previously believed authority he has on her/women, as well as the way people are wired and set in position in society. We see him questioning the ‘script’ or holding close to it like a dogma. There is (sometimes watered down) anger and resentment a man will channel towards the woman he has Lilith contact with. It can often be thoughts of ‘how dare she’ and ‘I’ll stop her before she even gets the chance to start’. As much as the escapism we search for online think this might turn out in an overly romanticzed femme fatale fantasy, reality often hits us hard when we see dysfunctional relationships unfolding right in front of us.

She will be the announcement of a possible challenge, a test of character, which he'll fail or master. It's a question of morality, for both. Because Lilith here can be the person he always dreamed of, but always has been too afraid to engage with. There is something uttrely objectifying happening when talking about lilith and it's effects, even if you don't want to, it is bound to happen living in the world we are in right now.

And this has all to do with what Lilith stands for. Especially those who have strong Liltih influence in their chart (doesn't matter which Liltih you use) - I'm talking in angular houses, on the angles, in contact to personal planets or to the chart ruler - have undeniably an interesting relationship with and effect on those people who want them to 'follow the scrip' in the way society wants it. And very important (!!): just because someone has strong Lilith influence, doesn't mean that they are in any way better or worse than other women. I want to highlight this because women with Lilith energy will get shit from anyone (!!) who has strong internalized misogyny in them. Think about the way women are raised to compete with each other and follow the script in order to survive and get by in a patriarchal society. Of course someone who's very 'Lilith' will trigger them. Same with men who encounter someone who's very 'Lilith'.

Lilith can join the club of the outsider that you'll find at the metaphorical table that is placed in an imagined highschool's cafeteria: finding her place right next to Scorpio, shaking hands with Uranus, Neptune and Pluto, nodding acknowledging to Cancer, Aquarius and Pisces.

I noticed women who have strong Lilith in their chart have had prominent themes of isolation, autonomy, exclusion and conflict in their life. Either born or forced in positions that has them relying on themselves and their gut instincts a lot (!) and the rest of their charts backed that up too. But whatever is touched by Lilith is bount to become fierce and brutal. Doesn't matter if it's natal, a transit, in composite; Lilith forces you to look within and unleash something inside of you, it works like a catalyst of some sort. Lilith also talks about demands. Think about how she demanded a different treatment, before she left the Garden Eden. Lilith's needs are that strong, that she is willing to face the brutal consequences of it. If anything, Lilith's pursue can be just as brutal (metaphorically, but perhaps phyiscally as well) as her will.

Pop astrology makes Lilith out to be solely about the physical act of intimacy, and sexuality definitely is a theme for Lilith, but not in the way people think it is, I believe.

There is an undeniable generational trauma and influence Lilith has on those who are politically a woman (all inclusive term)/femme presenting.

I will be even bolder in my claims and say that we still view Lilith through the lense society views women that ultimately choose to abandon societal and cultural prestigue and status by choosing themselves no matter what will occure, especially if it also means having to play with those societal expectations or finding their own niche in those roles and scrips they have to follow to get by. And this is not me trying to #girboss Lilith, but rather me saying that our studies still integrate and reproduce held harmful beliefs of women.

Deciding to work with Lilith is deciding to choose yourself because you see beyond the oppression and injustice, no matter what you think that might be in your life or in the life of others. The reactionary nature is most of the times caused by pushing and pulling from those who want her to follow the script. But Lilith often wants to write her own script, or at least edit what people have been given to her.

This is why, for example, women with Lilith in contact with their Juno will be known as partners that are demanding in the eyes of those who want them to act as we expect women to be in relationships. They expect commitment that borders on obedience but these individuals will eventually combust under the pressure. They will find their way to assert their own role, but at the same time they can end up with people that are inherently lilith to them in the best or worst ways. Likewise, we see celebrity men with Lilith Juno contacts that are known to be immoral lovers, not caring if the spotlights are on them or not. The whole world is gonna see, how they want to have commitment and what it requires. (not to say that you are doomed to be a horrible partner just because you have Lilith-Juno contacts, this is just one way it can manifest!)

I believe that at it’s best and it’s very essence, Lilith is not about choosing hate over love, glorifying destruction over peace and community. I truly believe that at it's core and very best, Lilith is ancient and wise, she knows - because she has wisdom that is inherent to her - what is right and wrong for her and she downright rejects the status quo because she can see beyond the limitations and power plays people have put on each other. She is the link to our gut feeling, I believe. And it acts out, whenever something doesn't sit quiet right with us, or something might feel incredibly good (for better or worse). Again, Lilith was ostracized and forced to be alone, she had to be and sit with herself. That doesn't mean Lilith is the ulterior good, but rather the 'what if you would choose to not follow the script - what if you become mindful of your own and listen within yourself.'

She is very much wild and raw and instinctual as mother earth herself is (the sadow of the moon). Remember, after all, she is according to the stories the very first woman. She is following a very deep rooted beat of a drum, a melody, that will always guide her through life, she wants to connect to her own, inherent eco system.

When I research Lilith in astrological texts and read about her, no matter which Lilith it is, it most of the time feels almost like a caricature, oddly enough. If she's not 100% girlbossyfied, she is mostly only seen as the 'evil one' (or at least very constroversial figure). Despite the fact that she indeed can be bad, it's also a role Lilith was pushed to take on too, because after all, there hasn’t been any cooperation with her. So she doesn’t cooperate and rather does her own thing (for better and worse, but as long as it feels good to her, there's probably no one who can stop her). Looking at it from a more psychological and sociological lens, Lilith's story inherently integrates the idea of 'I play the villian you always thought of me as'. Which is in itself an (unfortunate) self-fulfilling and isolating prophecy. It's not inherently a cool, but rather a cruel thing, but she had to work her way around that too, I guess.

Growing up 'Lilith', I do want to talk about the many facettes she has. I don't think that the reduction of Lilith as a mere 'sexual' indication does her justice, even if the sexual part does play a role after all. Picking up the previous point about astrology and sexuality, I wonder how the extreme sexualization and fetishization of anything a woman does plays into the sex-focused interpretations of her (but I think part of the credit has to be given to the way sexuality - especially in women - is also used as a method and commodity).

I also often read about women that are Lilith and feel very wise and mature, being a spiritual teacher to their lovers. I personally agree. I feel the wisdom and knowledge of Lilith can get twisted - either she becomes the 'crazy one' or people take away her agency and personhood and reduce her to the (sexual) magnetism that she possesses by being deeply involved and concerned with her sexual energy (aka creative energy, it's the force we connenct with when we create ANYTHING). Thus, often resulting in her being very much in touch with it.

There’s also the concept of motherhood that I keep thinking about. After all Lilith made sure to revenge her killed children by.....kiling other children? Uhh, don't know really about that move but sure, you show them that was fucked up ig.

Since Lilith is the shadow of the moon, I wonder how much our upbringing, our mother figure and motherhood influence Lilith’s energy.

And of course: the other woman. Lilith came back to the Garden Eden just to find Adam with another chick!!! After she had to leave when she wanted to be treated with basic respect. And yes, she did take revenge on Adam too, but point is that Lilith also deals with betrayal and distrust.

There is so much I could write about Lilith. I feel one can't discuss and learn about lilith without getting sociological, political and a bit psychological as well. After all, she is one of the most complex and intruiging figures out there. Controversial. The dark side of the moon.

[anon-sect]

I see that you are really powerfull. Nothing is impossible for you, right? Great. The other day I was walking in the street when I saw one of the hottest men i know walking around: Josh Hutcherson. But as I was very polite and nice, he treated me like a dick. Here is where you come. He acts like a dick? Lets do that then. Can you put me in controll of his body and swap his mind inside his own dick? I want to controll him, to feel him powerless as I play with his new self. Can you do that? your price will be mine.

Picture source: internet.

Zack was walking down the street when he happened to see someone familiar walking his direction. He couldn't believe it. It was Josh Hutcherson. He recognized the famous actor from the many movies he stared in. As he approached, he just wanted one quick picture with him since he was a big fan of the actor.

"HI, Mr. Hutcherson, could I get a quick picture with you? You are one of my favorite actors." Zack asked politely, hoping he would say yes.

Josh rolled his eyes at the simple request from a fan. "Go online to one of my websites. I should have an autographed picture you could buy. Until then, I don't do pictures with fans for free." He spoke to the guy without even asking for his name and walked off.

Zack was so disappointed. He actually looked up to the actor, but to be treated with such disrespect even when he was being polite just wasn't right. He watched as the actor walked off after being such a dick to him.

As Zack continued walking, he was taped on the shoulder by a stranger. "Was that Josh Hutcherson?" The stranger asked him. "Yeah, but he is not as I imagine. He was such a dick to me. I only asked to take a picture with him since I am a big fan. And he just brushed me off and kept walking. I'm so disappointed." He told the stranger. The stranger just smiled. "Don't worry, karma happens to come back on those who do us wrong when I am around. I hope you will enjoy your new life." The stranger spoke and walked off without even giving his name. Zack thought that was a little strange, yet his last words had him pondering. He wondered what he meant by that.

When Zack got home, he went to use the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror and suddenly got dizzy. He didn't know what was going on but lost consciousness a few seconds later. He woke up to unfamiliar surroundings. It was in a fancy hotel room. He was on a nice couch. He was also wearing different clothes than before. He recognized the attire as to what Josh was wearing. He quickly went to a mirror. He was shocked at the reflection back. The face he saw was Josh Hutcherson's. He was now the famous actor or more in control of his body now. He then wondered where the real Josh Hutcherson was.

Zack/new Josh then felt his dick twitching like crazy.

Josh couldn't explain what happened, but he felt he was a member of his body instead of control of his body. The more he tried to move, the more he realized what became of him. He was a literal cock on his body now. He couldn't speak but only make slight movements. This was a nightmare. If he was a cock on his body, than who was in his body controlling it.

Zack/new Josh saw he sounds just like the actor. He then realized what the stranger met by his last words. This was his new life. He felt a phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it and found he knew the password. He opened to see a text from a strange number. "Josh is your dick now, and you are him. It's temporary but you can make it permanent. All you need to do is jack off. Once done, you will be the new Josh, and he will just be your dick." Zack couldn't believe his luck.

Zack unzipped his pants in the bathroom to look at his dick. "So all I need to do is jack off, and we are stuck this way forever. That sounds like a plan to me. You should have been nicer to me, now I control your fate." He spoke as he took his new dick in hand and began to jack off.

Josh was mentally screaming. He didn't want to be stuck this way forever. Yet to hear a fan in control of his body and about to make their condition permanent was horrifying. He felt his own hand grab him and jerk off. He tried not to get hard, but he couldn't help it. He was a dick now. Moments later hot cum spewed out of his mouth. He suddenly felt he was just a dick. His humanity was striped of him.

Zack/ New Josh smiled as he was now Josh Hutcherson for the rest of his life. He wished he could thank the stranger in person. He definitely was going to enjoy his new life. As for old Josh, he was sure he could find someone to suck him off or go in someone's ass. It was time he learned what being a dick felt like.

[theprettynosferatu]

    She was pure. She was shiny. She was empty. She couldn’t be sure if she had always been a she, or if that, like everything else, like her very mind, had been transformed. She didn’t much care. In fact, she was vaguely aware she had gone beyond “she” quite a while back, settling into her natural place of “it”. And it was beautiful, encased completely in slick, perfect, immaculate latex.

    Latex was perfection. Latex was crafted, an artificial creation just like she was. Latex molded itself, coated whatever it surrounded, made itself a second skin- no, a real skin, a skin that replaced the flawed original. Latex made her look how she felt: a product, a result of someone else’s desires and work. Like latex, she had been molded, shaped, twisted, remade. She was owned by he who had made her: whoever she had been in the past was long, long behind.

    She didn’t have a name. She didn’t need a name. The tight mask over her face made her anonymous, just one among many identically crafted living dolls. That was all she needed to be. Empty, blissful, useful in her latex oblivion.

The air itself was a sweet thing, filtered and modified by the mask that was her true face into something pink, something that made her sensitive, made her shudder, made her always ready to be used should a real person deem her worthy of doing so. There were people around her watching, evaluating, mumbling. She couldn’t hear them. Her suit pumped her mind full of pulsing sounds and words that long ago had lost their meaning but not their power. They wormed deeper and deeper inside her, and she no longer knew or cared what was her and what was the suit. They were one and the same. Artificial. Useful. Pleasing. That was all she needed to be.

Her owner affixed a leash to her suit’s collar, and that act in itself was enough to flood her brain with a tidal wave of dopamine. Any attention from her owner was a privilege, a blessing beyond anything others might ever feel. It was pure, heavenly bliss: the notion of being used, being useful was purpose fulfilled. He didn’t have to tell her what to do. Collar meant crawling, and her body knew it, moving by itself as he paraded her through the gazes of the attendants, up to the stage. Lights, pink and blue, reflected off her flawless black latex skin. Her owner removed her mask, revealing the beautiful face under it. That face was the real mask, she knew: it was a person’s face, a human face. She wasn’t human, wasn’t a person. She was a pleasing, empty object. Part of her felt anxious by the removal of her real, anonymous, latex face; however, she trusted her owner with her life, her mind, her soul. When he presented her with a new face, a new mask, her body was overwhelmed by a lightning bolt of pleasure. New mask, new face, new self, new purpose. Her owner chose who she was, what she was, what her function was. She was a modular doll, her brain adapting to every change instantly. Latex told her who she was. Latex told her what her reason for existence was. This particular face told her everything she needed to know. 

It covered her eyes. That told her she didn’t need to see, she didn’t need to know who might be using her. It had a ring gag, keeping her mouth open. That told her what the new center of her existence was: she was to be a hole, a wet and warm hole for people to use. Nothing more. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. She was Hole. 

Form determined function. Her open mouth told her all she needed to know. Her soaked cunt only confirmed it. She was aware of the men around her, watching her as they drank their wine and talked about important, real people things. Hole couldn’t hear, the mantras in her ears drowning out all sound. It was okay. She didn’t need to hear. Didn’t need to understand. Form determined function, and her purpose was singular. Soon enough, it was fulfilled.

The man didn’t stop his conversation, but the man didn’t matter: only the cock sliding inside her mouth did. She was Hole and Cock was her purpose. Her body shivered, sending waves of perfect peace from the base of her spine, all over her skin, deep inside her bones. Serving was pleasure. Her owner had deemed it so. The cock went deep, using her tongue, her throat. She didn’t need to breathe. Only serving her purpose mattered. She knew she was making her owner happy by letting her slave body be all that existed of her. Whatever remained of her mind felt unfathomable happiness at the idea. It was simple harmony, form and function, obedience and purpose. Anything her owner desired, she was. Anything he commanded, she did. When the cock came deep inside her throat, she swallowed greedily, for she knew that was what she existed for and making cock cum was an act of worship to her master. She didn’t need more pleasure than that, didn’t need more meaning than that. The world was simple, as was she. She was to be used, and cum was a signal of her usefulness. Simple. Clear. Beautiful. 

How many men used Hole that night? She didn’t know. Every cock was a reset, as important as the first one. Time became a fractured jumble of moments and sensations. All she was aware of was her purpose, her perfect, latex-enclosed obedience. She was a shiny object to be used. Nothing more. She was her owner’s plastic plaything, living art, fleshlight with a pulse.

Form determined function. She was a slick, latex doll. That told her her function. She was to be used, posed, watched. She existed for her maker’s pleasure. Had she been a person at some point? Perhaps. Had she been happier than she was as a living doll?

Impossible. 

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

Evey bit helps!

[thesonicpunk]

youre so right that the way kishimoto limits sakura bc of his own misogyny reflects the things girls often face irl. based on what ive seen from interviews, kishimoto is the kind of male writer who thinks women need inherently be written differently from and have different types of stories than men, and it creates this weird self-fulfilling prophecy whereby believing he's not good at writing girls, he ends up being bad at writing girls. but somehow it sometimes circles back around to making him good at it? the struggle of always feeling like you're second-best to the men in your life...but by focusing only on trying to surpass them you just end up centering yourself around them even when you've forged your own path...shes so girlhood to me

aaaa anon ur egging me on ahah (i love it, let's discuss euehuhehu, or not u can just ignore me lol) I'm sorry it took me so long to reply, I had a deadline and halfway through writing this i realised i wanted to do it properly and so I had to come back when I had time It does kinda circle around to Kishimoto crafting a portrayal of aspects of girlhood that's, well, maybe not good since its not intentional or well explored/resolved, but definitely accurate in a lot of ways.

I've always thought Sakura's crush on Sasuke being a big chunk of her focus in life is a great example of this. Kishimoto writes it in because that's how he sees women: what else could they want other than a man? And he needs to show how desirable Sasuke is because his audience wants to see it, they're teenage boys after all and Sasuke's the cool anti-hero (Naruto's too goofy and the underdog at this point in the story for her to like him) so of course Sakura's in love with him. But, at the same time, Sakura's crush being so central in her life is quite accurate because, as a girl, you're socialised since you're very young to desire a certain type of man: the man all men want to be, because men want you to desire them. In this case, this is Sasuke: the cool, aloof, powerful shinobi from a prestigious clan, the strongest, top of the class guy.* You're told by all the media you consume, the stories you read, the comments your family makes and the relationships that are modelled for you in society in general that you exist to love a guy, to take care of him, that your biggest dream should be being worthy of that guy's love, because what else is there for a girl to aspire to? And as a girl you don't just accept it, because it's deeper and more ingrained than that: you actually want your life to look like that. Because all the other girls who already have that are so pretty, and when you smile people compliment you, and you're told that's where your worth lies, and you want to have worth and you want people to pay attention because it feels good. (That's why going after a guy like Sasuke, who is emotionally unavailable, is also very realistic: it feels better when it's hard won. it's like, "he isn't affectionate with anyone, so if he is affectionate with me, i've really got worth!" which is something we see Sakura feeling well into her marriage with Sasuke in Boruto, and it's very sad that she still accept such a behaviour after growing up.)

Even when you have other aspirations (becoming a ninja, in this case) you are just confronted with the idea that you will never be as strong/good/powerful as the men in your life (like you pointed out). The system has it in for you in the first place: it hasn't been designed for you to thrive. Your teacher doesn't push you as hard as he pushes the boys, he doesn't pay as much attention to you as he pays to the boys, and everyone always acts like you're defenceless in the batter field, not giving you a chance to prove yourself. So why shouldn't you feel like you maybe are less than the guys? If your teachers and your teammates see you that way, then maybe that's what you are. Can you really fault Sakura for believing that when so many women irl struggle with this immensely too? You're already taking a caretaker/disciplinarian role within your team because you're the girl, and you're only 13, so maybe you should stick to that, because that you're good at, and Kakashi praises you for not being difficult like the boys, because "boys will be boys" but Sakura-chan you're so easy to deal with!!! And then you find your niche, something you're good at (tho, ofc, it's not by coincidence that kishi's strongest women in Naruto are healers - tsunade and sakura - that in itself is already an essentialisation of female nature, but i won't get into it here, even tho it adds to everything) , and you work your ass off at that: you're not from a special clan, you have no special powers like Naruto or Sasuke, but you've become the strongest medic ninja and yet. That doesn't seem enough for the fandom to see your worth, you routinely get called weak and useless because subpar writing didn't give you enough chances to shine (even tho you have all the potential) exactly because your writer is misogynistic. yay When Sakura goes after Naruto to convince him to back down so they can kill Sasuke, of course she uses her womanhood as her weapon. Of course she tells him she likes him instead. It's desperate, it's flawed, it's even misguided, but she's been told all her life that's all she's got to offer, she's been told all her life that's what men will respond to and she's tried to keep up with them but she feels like she can't on her own terms (tho she can!!! she can she can she can), so she succumbs to the default way society tells her she has value. And Naruto defies a lot of things by saying no here, he defies even the patriarchy/comphetness he himself partook in as a child (by crushing on her, by wanting to be like Sasuke), and further solidifies himself as an extremely compelling male protagonist IMO (Kishimoto misses a lot but he didn't miss here, but anyways i'm not analysing naruto rn ahah);

This is just another way Boruto (the show) actively tarnishes Naruto's characters. Unfortunately, there was space for things to be resolved differently. With the ending of Naruto, we could have imagined something else for Sakura: she could have grown out of her crush on Sasuke, realised her worth, that her life doesn't need to revolve around him and invested her time in becoming whatever it is that she wants to become, but instead..... Sakura becomes a housewife who abandons her own aspirations as a ninja to be a sometimes-useful-prop in a narrative about another boy, she's gotten married to an emotionally unavailable man that doesn't really love her and is never around, and yet she still pines over him after years of neglect and pretends to be satisfied (but isn't really, who would be?) by the tiniest slither of affection and of course, A CHILD. Because that's all women are for, and all that they should aspire to in the next stage of their lives: why wouldn't she be happy now that she has a kid with Sasuke? She even says it herself.

Tbh it's all a bit gross! But in a way, realistic, since unfortunately this is the life of a lot of women out there. Also don't come for me for this take, the things i'm saying are informed by my own experiences growing up as a girl. Ofc there's nothing wrong with choosing a more domestic life as a woman, that's clearly not what i'm critiquing here.

TL;DR; She is so girlhood !!!!

*this is damaging to Sasuke too, as we know, because it incentivises a flat, superficial, unkind view of who he is as a person that overlooks his traumas, pressures him to play a role and limits who he is/what he needs and deserves in a friend/partner too. That patriarchy is damaging to men themselves is not news tho, it's the same for men in real life.

[ukrfeminism]

Women dealing with severe mental illness are still being jailed despite prisons being “ill-equipped” to offer suitable care, a major review has warned.

Many women and health providers view the prison environment as “unfit for purpose”, while six in 10 inmates said the “inconsistent” health and social care services across England’s 12 women’s prisons needed improvement, the long-awaited NHS and Prison Service review found.

Despite figures suggesting nearly 60 per cent of female offenders have experienced domestic abuse, the review warned of a “gap” in mental healthcare and specialist support for women who have experienced trauma, including sexual and domestic violence.

The review – which was due last March – is touted as involving potentially the largest-ever engagement of women with lived experience of prison, drawing on more than 2,250 responses from group discussions, one-to-one meetings, letters, postcards and drawings.

Its findings underscore heightened concerns around women’s prisons, after the number of self-harm incidents rose by 63 per cent to hit a grim new record of 20,248 in the 12 months to June – three times higher than a decade earlier – despite the number of women self-harming remaining relatively stable in recent years.

The “absolutely staggering” rise could reflect issues with understaffing and a lack of suitable training, HM chief inspector of prisons Charlie Taylor told The Independent last month, adding: “These are often the most vulnerable, very unwell women, some of whom should quite frankly be in secure hospital, not in prison.”

Experts have long highlighted that mentally unwell women are being imprisoned unnecessarily, with MPs warning last April that legislation handing courts the power to remand people in prison “for their own protection” should be repealed.

While the government’s draft Mental Health Bill proposed this, and introduced a requirement to remand people to hospital when the only ground is concern for mental health, Rishi Sunak did not include the Bill in the King’s Speech – leaving it off the parliamentary agenda for the year ahead.

“This is a missed opportunity to right a grave wrong, and means women as well as men in crisis will continue to be sent to prisons which are unfit and unequipped to meet their needs,” Prison Reform Trust chief executive Pia Sinha told The Independent.

The newly-published review also highlighted that women’s reception and early days in prison are often “traumatic, deeply distressing and bewildering”, especially for pregnant women and mothers separated from their children.

“I didn’t know where I was, I didn’t feel like I could ask, I felt completely away from everything,” one woman told the researchers. “When they told me, I didn’t have a clue, I couldn’t picture it, then I found out I was hours from home and it really hit me how far away from my kids I was.”

Only around half of women said their immediate healthcare needs were met during the first 24 hours in custody. Vital services are also often not gender-specific, researchers found, leaving further gaps in care for women.

“Not one person has spoken to me about incontinence, menopause, what are healthy bowel habits, my boobs,” said one woman, while another told researchers: “Managing your periods in prison can be a nightmare. Some women don’t even know the pill or coil can help. They just assume because they’re in prison, they aren’t entitled to this sort of help.”

Women with reduced mobility, who are neurodiverse and who are older appeared most disadvantaged by a poor environment in prisons, the revew found, with one woman saying: “You’ve got more chance getting around prison on a flying carpet than you have in a wheelchair.”

The report also highlighted that not all staff are trained in trauma-informed care, with one respondent quoted as saying: “‘There are so many mental health ladies and ladies with learning disabilities that should not be here. 

“The prison is not a mental health hospital. Staff are not trained to deal with the complex needs, so those people do not get help to do anything or get what they need.”

Another said: “Officers don’t always get it, sometimes how they talk to us makes it worse. They need better training; they need to learn how to see it when a woman is in crisis.”

Meanwhile, in the 2019/20 year, some 45 per cent of women did not attend planned outpatient appointments, compared to 22 per cent in the general population – with “complex” reasons for this including there being no prison staff available to accompany them, according to the Nuffield Trust.

The Ministry of Justice has pledged to deliver on the report’s eight recommendations, and has earmarked £21m for a three-year delivery plan jointly led by the NHS, and Prison and Probation Service.

Urging an “ongoing multiagency commitment” to delivering the recommendations, the Prison Reform Trust warned that the review “cannot be reduced to yet another bureaucratic process”, adding: “Its success needs to be measured by the impact it has on improving the health and social care needs of women in custody.”

[obsidiancreates]

Robin Hood: Man In Vents

@pineapple-psychic

"Gus." Shawn whispers as quietly as he can into the little mic pinned to his collar. "I see you flirting with the receptionist."

"Heh, one second." Gus's smirk slips right off as he turns and whispers back "You told me to say I'm security!"

"So no-one would question the mic and earpiece! Not to creep out some poor girl taking this jerk's calls all day!"

"I'm not creeping anybody out!"

"She's literally holding a tiny lipstick taser in her palm."

"Wh- where are you?!"

"The vents. ... Top of the wall to your right."

"Shawn, you're supposed to be in this guy's office already."

"I had to take a pit-stop, man, you were totally ignoring me!"

"Just get in there, if someone we know spots me we're toast."

"Dude, Lassie and Jules are totally busy with that other case with the dead bull or whatever."

"It was a dead matador, Shawn, and they're only busy because you put them on the wrong lead!"

"Yeah, so we're covered."

"Just get into that office!"

Shawn watches Gus turn back around with his 'Smooth Gus' smile and keep chatting with the receptionist- who's relaxing more as Gus talks to her, actually, and she realizes he's just Not As Smooth As He Thinks He Is rather than Trying To Be Creepy.

Shawn crawls through the vents, wondering not for the first time why Santa Barbara seems to make all their air vents big enough for over-30-year-old-men to crawl through with room to spare, and makes it to the office. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his little uses-actual-tape vintage tape recorder, stolen from his dad's house, and hits record.

"No, look, if we sell more than this it'll look suspicious. ... I know, I know, but our payout won't be worth shit if we get caught. Just- have you taken care of the severance situation? ... Well, cripes, Monty, if you don't find a way to avoid paying out severance after this we'll have done it all for nothing! ... That's it, I'm coming down to your office. No, I don't give a crap if your wife is there, kick her out or I'll beat her ass along with yours. ... You'll take this talk from me as long as you live, if you don't want to become my next scapegoat."

The phone slams back into it's receiver, and the CEO storms out of his office.

Shawn tests the vent grate- if he did it right when he pretended to be the building inspector a few days ago, it should just-

CRASH!

... Whoops.

Shawn slides out of the vent and lands in a heap on the floor, springing back up as quickly as possible and going for the computer! This office is relatively isolated, but someone will have heard that. Gus posing as security can maybe buy him twenty minutes, but after that he's risking everything.

Gus would kill him for saying so, but all that makes this even more fun.

He copies the password he saw being entered in the reflection of the window when he came in to sabotage the vent, pulls out the list of keywords Gus's jotted down for him, and starts combing through the files as quickly as possible. He plugs his pineapple-shaped hard drive into the PC unit and begins downloading everything relevant to the insider trading and company self-sabotage.

"Dude, hurry up, I just got told over the walkie that there was a loud sound in the CEO's office," Gus hisses through the earpiece.

"I'm hurrying!"

"Hurry harder, Shawn! Oh, uh, hello, fellow security team. Yeah, Im uh, going to check out the disturbance myself. no need for all of us, right?"

"You're in fire, dude."

"Yeah, well, I'm a uh, black belt in taekwondo, so I really don't need any backup. Might get messy."

"Black be- okay I know that's not true, but I also know you've been sneaking out of cases more often than usual. Gus, are you taking martial arts classes without me? How is our partnership supposed to work if you become a lethal weapon of flesh and blood and I don't?"

"I'm not taking any classes, I'm buying you time," Gus hisses again. "Quit distracting me!"

"Fine. ... But we should sign up for some classes together after this."

"I agree, but shhh!"

"Fine. ... Okay, okay, I got it!" Shanw unplugs everything, makes sure his gloves didn't rip or leave any fibers behind- and then looks up at the vent. "Oh. Oops."

"Oops?!"

"It's uh- it's a little high to reach."

"Oh my go- you didn't measure a way up to your only escape route?"

"I was a little focused on the entire rest of the whole plan!"

"Figure it out fast, we're almost at the elevator!"

"Ah- stall for time! Pretend to pee yourself!"

"No, stop using that as a go-to distraction!"

"Well do something!"

"Ah- HEY! Ahem, hey, guys, uh, you know, I read in Men's Digest last week that elevators have been linked to Kidney Stones."

Shawn looks around frantically for something he can use to get up to the vent that won't leave a suspicious trail- nothing. Unless...

"Dude, I'm taking a risk."

"Another one?!"

"Trust me!"

Shawn pulls the wheely chair over to the vent and stands on it. It's just enough for him to leverage himself into the space. He hops off and grabs the vent cover, puts it on top of the headrest, and turns. He puts his feet on the wall, walks them up to the vent opening, and slowly walks his hands up to the top of the chair to leverage himself into the exit.

As soon as his hands reach the top he hears the elevator ding down the hallway. He hears Gus's rambling coming closer, and knows it's now or never. He takes a deep breath, winces in preparation for the on coming pain, and pushes off of the chair! He just barely manages to grab onto the vent as the chair goes flying across the floor back into place!

His push gets him halfway into the vent, the wind knocked right out of him, but he has no time to recover. He squirms the rest of the way in, and managed to re-affix the loose vent cover right as the door to the office opens.

Gus glances up at the vents and they lock eyes. Shawn gives a thumbs-up, and begins scooting backwards out of the line of sight.

"I'm never helping you with one of these again," he hears Gus mumble over the earpiece.

They both know Gus is lying. They're partners in crime-solving and in crime, and they always will be. Especially when it's something like this.

Now to figure out if blackmail or exposure is the best use for what they've gathered...

[femmefatalevibe]

Hi there femme💌.

Do you have any advice on how to deal with people who judge you for " trying to hard "?

I observed that people who don't pay attention to the way they look, they way they speak, or put any effort into their appearance in general, tend to be judgmental of those who like to look after themselves and look their best. I think this comes from a point of feeling inferior or bad that they don't put much effort into their image, mannerism, persona, so they try to make themselves feel better by dragging others down. Others might really feel like it's a waste of time or money to invest in anything related to clothes, self care , good diet etc, and think they're superior because they Don't waste money.

For example, I wear perfume everyday and I was told that nobody cares about they way I smell so why I'm wasting money on fragrances. I don't do it so others will tell me I smell good, I do it so I can smell my perfume around me. Or that I dress too elegantly when I could just wear some jeans with t shirt and sport shoes.

I'm honestly so tired of this ... and it's not men who told me this , but women. Looking after yourself is seen by some women as trying too hard to get a man's attention, or that it's for your own egocentric desires.

I don't live in the most expensive part of the city and I'm honestly so tired of these people's mentality. Even my coworkers are starting to annoy me because they act rude, they have a "street vocabulary ", are always gossiping and I don't really partake in their discussions, maybe that's why I keep hearing bad things about myself.

Hi love! I completely agree with your observations and insights regarding why people criticize those who take pleasure in diligently curating their appearance for "trying too hard" because it makes them feel self-conscious.

I think it's best to remember that when they say these negative sentiments to you, they're addressing you like they're talking to a mirror. You're merely in the way. Their words are reflections of their own inner critics. These sentiments have nothing to do with you. If you say anything at all, just say: "You're right" to shut the negativity down and provide these people with the validation they desperately need to hear. Remain unbothered by others' preoccupations with your ways of indulging in self-care. Maybe they should redirect some of the energy they utilize to resent your decisions to appease theirs.

Always remember: Those who are successful in an area of life feel no need to criticize those behind them on their journey – they either offer support or are too preoccupied with their own lives to notice those still finding their way to the next level of their lives.

Hope this helps xx

[drunkewok]

Tiger Inside Chapter Five

Stray Kids Mafia (Ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 3.6k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Synopsis: After years spent away from the family, two strangers start frequenting your place of work, only to bring daunting news. Flung back into the world of the mafia, you try to adapt to your new normal and work alongside a team of eight skilled members to uncover a mystery and take down an unknown enemy.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and do not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.

Please do not copy or repost my work

Mafia.

An organized body of criminals, known for having a complex and ruthless behavioral code.

The way of life was nothing new to me. I was raised by the code, living under my Father’s strict rule. Although raised among criminals, my childhood was far from unsavory. Father was a caring member towards his own family, but bent on ensuring all members were well versed in the art of self defense. Should the need ever arise, I shall not be caught with the inability to fight, gun in hand by the age 14.

By the age of 16, things started to look bleak, a looming threat hanging over the heads of the Choi family inching closer with each passing day. Jiho at age 22 was kept under strict eyes, spending more time away from home with Father on family business, close under his wing.

The distance from home proved difficult in terms of defense. By age 17, I stood by my Mother as we watched our home engulfed in flames. Father and Jiho returned by the next day, the four of us finding safety within my Grandfather’s home.

The attack on my Mother came next. Jiho had stayed home, Mother and Father leaving this time for negotiations. A long night followed with no word from the two of them before the sound of the front door finally opening with Father’s arrival.

Mother never returned.

He never told us what happened that day, taking a vow of silence on the matter. With that target my fate was sealed. I was sent away to Gangnam, taking on the identity of Siu and making a new life for myself. I spent the first years in solitude, too scared to leave the comfort of my own home. By age 21 my journeys out of the apartment were more often, before I found myself in a beaten down alley staring down a ‘HELP WANTED’ sign posted outside of an unassuming door. Upon entering I was greeted by a barkeep only a few years older than myself. Through a toothy smile he introduced himself as Seongho, a gentleman who quickly became my closet confidant. A peer in which I was desperately in need of. We found comfort within each other, both just trying to maneuver the drag of day to day life together.

Now I find myself sat in front of 7 men, the bitter truth of my past finally creeping up behind me and embracing me with an icy grip. Years spent learning to conform to the norms up in flames. Years spent running in the shadows all for naught. I crossed my legs as I sat firm, holding myself strong in front of those before me. I studied the four new faces with a flat stare, waiting for one of them to finally speak.

“You all don’t need to look like deer in headlights.” The group shuffled in their seats, clearly unsettled by my presence. “Care to introduce yourselves so I know who I’m now sharing a home with?” I watched as each began to introduce themselves in turns.

Seo Changbin was the first to speak up. Age 26 and hair similar to Minho’s chestnut. His brawny frame was emphasized by a white button up with sleeves rolled to three quarters, the buttons of which seemed like they were holding on for dear life. Specializations in combat being no surprise with his figure, in charge of anything relating to weaponry.

The next in line was smaller in frame than his former, but still hid strength in the arms. His hair was a deep black, and although shorter, styled similarly to that of Hyunjin’s with a crisp slick back with enough gel to hold an elephant down. He said his name was Han Jisung, a year younger than Changbin, with expertise landing him as a sniper with a deadly aim.

Kim Seungmin. Initially I was struggling to read him, a slight smirk adorning his face that seemed he was trying very little to hide. Sitting at the same age of Jisung at 25, he handled all things chemistry. Focus centered to that of poisons, and tending to the medical needs of the team. A field I’d be first to admit that I didn’t have a strong set of skills in, I’d have to take some lessons from him later on that.

A chipper one was next, his smile stretching cheek to cheek once reaching his turn, clearly now less tense as the introductions made their way down the line. Yang Jeongin fell in line with the previous two with his dark hair, each contrasting the painful bleaching the other’s must have endured. His initial unassuming presence and being the youngest making him the dark horse of the team, working alongside Changbin with specialties in close combat and all things espionage and infiltration.

My gaze fell upon the three I already had the pleasure of meeting under unfortunate circumstances. All silent through the current interactions.

“Now you three, I know your names, but what is there to expect from you?” Felix’s usual smile stretched across his face before speaking up.

Age 25 landed him in the youngest of the group as well, his skills within computer technology led him to handle anything technical. Any hacking needed by the group was tended to by Felix, skills commonly used in pairing with Jeongin when in need of infiltration.

“Oh speaking of which” Felix dug into the pocket of his pants, retrieving my phone from the depths and handing it over to me. “Was meaning to return this to you, just had to take some security precautions.” I turned the phone over in my hand, observing it. My confusion evident on my face on how he even came into possession of it in the first place. “Sorry, had to do some pickpocketing as I led you to bed last night, can’t say it was very difficult with you essentially already being asleep the moment you stepped foot within the door ” I let out a huff as I laid the phone in my lap, leaning forward with arms crossed over my knee as my gaze fell on Hyunjin.

Hyunjin sat back with arms crossed. Although his initial demeanor seemed similar to our previous night, his voice held a bit more comfort, closer to that of our days spent conversing at Blossom. Aged 26, his hand was best behind that of a sniper rifle. A keen eye for distance and grace with a finger on the trigger.

All that was left was that of the mighty, silent Minho. My chin sat in the hold of my fingers, staring him down with brows raised, a look daring of go on, impress me. He stared back with tongue in cheek and lips pursed before speaking. With a deep breath his eyes turned to his fingers, gently tapping on the armrest of his chair as he spoke. Sharing an age with me, he found himself by Chan’s side, being the main line of communications and negotiations. I could quickly tell why I was paired with him, his specialties being that with most categories in the group. He was a key player in the team, with the flexibility to fall in line with whatever assistance was needed.

I nodded my head with a soft hum, piecing together the team that was now presented before me. As expected, their skills were well balanced, supporting each other's needs and creating a cohesive flow within the group. I was curious where I would end up landing within them, and if I would find any of my own hidden expertise beyond the broad training I received when I was younger.

I had the pleasure of getting to know them all a little better that night. They were a lively bunch, energies definitely feeding off of each other with every joke and bout of laughter. If you had found the group in the corner of a bar one night, you would have never predicted them to be the Mafia, simply friendly and welcoming. I also got to experience Hyunjin and Felix in their full glory as well, finally seeing the two of them relax within the comfort of their own home and not tense under the tight suits and imaginary masks they had to adorn during their time at Blossom. Besides the uptight Minho, I could possibly see myself enjoying my time here with these boys. My own worries temporarily fading away for a couple hours before we all decided to try and get some rest.

I was tossing and turning all night with the inability to sleep. Exhaustion was not playing in my favor like the previous night, unfamiliar surroundings making any chance I had of relaxing nonexistent, the noise of the clock on my bedside table creating an agitating sound within the darkness with every tick.

My mind couldn’t stop from racing, the conversation with Jiho constantly replaying through my mind. Not only had I been pulled back into this world, but I was now being asked to delve face first into leading it by his side. Unlike Jiho, I had not had the ability to learn beside our Father, I didn’t possess the same knowledge he had the chance to learn by experience. In what way would I be able to catch up to his level? Was it even possible?

In frustration I threw the blankets off of me and hung my feet over the side of the bed, rubbing my face in my hands trying to settle my thoughts. I needed to go get water, something, anything that could just give me the opportunity to calm myself.

I crept through the dark halls, trying to find my way downstairs to the kitchen. The house had an eerie stillness to it in the night, each step on the stairs causing a deafening creak breaking through the silence.

Finally locating the archway to the kitchen, I slid my hand across the wall in search of the light switch, squinting in adjustment once the light finally hit my eyes. I was only reminded of my unfamiliarity with the home when I realized I had no idea what cabinet the cups occupied.

“Didn’t take you long to start rifling through the house I see.” I jumped at Minho's voice, turning to see him leaning against the archway with arms crossed.

“Oh please.” With a glare I turned back to my mission of locating my water vessel. “I just need a damn cup.” I grumbled in frustration before finally opening the last cabinet, an array of glasses for options. Grabbing one, I crossed to the sink and began to fill it. “Is it really such a crime to feel dehydrated?” I leaned against the counter behind me, staring Minho down as I took a sip. “What are you doing awake anyways?” His eyes followed the glass as I set it down next to me.

“I’m a light sleeper, and was curious who was fumbling their way through the house at such an hour.” He made his way to the island, pulling out a stool and sitting down.

“Fumbling?” I scoffed as I crossed my arms. “I was hardly fumbling. Plus, I wouldn’t have had such a hard time if the interior of this house wasn’t so dark.” My eyebrows raised as I stared at him with humor, feeling like my unfamiliarity paired with the dark aesthetic of the home created a proper reasoning for my inability to move through the halls smoothly.

“Well you’re going to have to get better at moving in the dark if you’re going to work with us.” His sharp stare felt like it was piercing through me, his tone flat with little emotion poking through.

“You act like I have no idea what I’m doing.” Once again, my irritation found itself cozy at home within my veins. The audacity he had to act like I was some helpless child needing my hand held, like I was some frail girl who was flung into this without a single thought in my head. My hand gripped my other arm, finding grasp on the sleeve of my sweatshirt as my jaw tensed.

“Have you stopped to think maybe you don’t?” Minho’s abrupt change in demeanor put an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach, the first true emotions he’s shown to me since my arrival being that of resentment as his voice raised.

“What is your problem with me? It’s like you decided your distaste for me before I even walked in the door.” My tone quickly matched his own, paying no mind to the raise in volume between the both of us. If this was the game he wanted to play with me, I had no worries in meeting him on a level playing field.

“Maybe I just don’t like the idea of letting someone in that has a giant target on their back. You’re putting all of us at risk by being here!” He leaned against the back of the stool, face painted with anger and putting a hostile feeling to the air.

“You act like I wanted to come here! Like it was my life’s greatest pleasure to uproot everything I’ve built for myself to come here, I would have much rather stayed on my own!” My hands settled forward on the island counter, head tilted in annoyance as I could feel my heart rate starting to spike and my body temperature rise.

“Then leave!” He rose from his seat, leaning his own hands on the counter, leaving the two of us face to face as he spit his words. “No one is holding a gun to your head, you’re not a prisoner here. Figure this shit out on your own instead of putting us in danger!”

“What the fuck are you two down here yelling about at one in the morning!?” Chan’s groggy and irritated eyes stared down the two of us from the entryway. “Whatever this is can wait until the morning, both of you shut up and go back to bed.” My eyes scanned over Minho’s expression one last time as my tongue ran across the inside of my cheek.

“It’s fine. We were finished here anyway.” I pushed past Chan into the hall and made my way toward the front door, needing to put as much distance between this house and myself as possible.

“What has gotten into you? You seem to forget that she may be new, but she’s still a Choi. Her word is above us Minho.” Chan’s blunt voice carried from the kitchen as I slid my shoes on and grabbed my jacket, storming out into the cold night and slamming the door behind me, cutting off the rest of their conversation from my ears.

I didn’t know where to go, or even know where I was, I just knew that I needed to be as far from that house as possible. It felt like every emotion was hitting me collectively at once, the anger, irritation and offense all boiling through my blood in deep contrast with the pain and hurt that I had been trying so hard to ignore tearing apart my chest. Everything I knew had been swept out from under me in an instant, any sense of normalcy pried from my fingers, and this is what I had to adapt to as my new normal? I just started running, my feet taking me wherever they deemed necessary.

The road was shrouded in complete darkness, the trees shielding out any possibility of the moonlight seeping through. My ears were ringing, cheeks stinging from the cold air hitting the tears that I was unaware were now streaming down my face. There was no way I’d be able to train alongside Minho, not when just my presence sent him into a tizzy, any time I open my mouth causing an issue.

My fists clenched as I ran, trying to diffuse my anger with any source of self relief. My endurance wasn’t as strong as it once was as I could feel the sprinting finally catching up with me and my legs beginning to feel weak. Unaware of how long I had actually been running for, I began to let up on my pace. My winded breathing began to take over as I slowed to a stop and rested my hands forward on my knees, catching my breath. This was all too much at once, I couldn’t even stop to process a single bit of information that was being hurled at me before a new problem came up. I never got a moment for recovery, how could I possibly handle any of this when my entire life just imploded before my eyes.

My gasps for air turned to sobs as my tears hit the concrete below me, my arms and legs uncontrollably shaking. It was all too much. So many layers that were crumbling on top of each other, I had watched as each bit piled up on top of each other, the weight becoming too heavy for support as it all came tumbling down in a single moment. The argument being the straw that finally broke the metaphorical back of a camel that was once standing as strong as a mountain.

I pushed myself to the edge of the road, leaning my back against a tree as I struggled to get my breathing settled, my brain now sitting in a post panicked haze. My head eased back and fell against the bark, a shaky deep breath following. A quiet hum in the distance brought my head up in the direction that I had traveled from, headlights appearing in the distance. I pulled my hood over my head in an attempt to keep my face shielded from the bright light cutting through the darkness. The vehicle slowed as it came closer before coming to a halt in front of me, the tinted window rolling down to reveal Chan in the driver’s seat. We sat in silence for a moment, not a word exchanged as he reached across the passenger side and opened the door.

“Just get in please, it’s too late for you to be out here alone.” I closed my eyes with a sigh and slid into the passenger seat, resting my head back against the seat with heavy eyes. Chan turned the car around, making its way back to the house in painful silence. The ride was brief, my feet only taking me so far in a short period of time. As the car came to a halt, Chan sighed as he switched off the ignition and turned to me, pausing to choose his words before speaking.

“This is unlike him.” I raised my head slightly, barely catching eye contact with him before he continued. “I think the stress of this all is just getting to him, but that doesn’t justify him taking it out on you.” Chan scratched the back of his neck, head hanging low. “You’ve got the most on your plate out of all of us, and I understand that, but we all just need to at least attempt to make the most of this situation to at least make it all bearable.” I opened my mouth to protest, yet words failed to make it past my lips. “I’m not here to be a mediator between the two of you, but I had a talk with him and told him he needs to stand back and let you decompress from everything before you two destroy each other." His hand rested on my shoulder, both of our tired eyes meeting. “Just get some rest, we can work all of this out when we aren’t all deprived of sleep. I’ll have Felix give you a proper tour of the house in the morning, and I’m gonna keep you and Minho apart until you both cool down.”

“I can play nice Chan, it’s him you need to get a rein on.” I scoffed as I opened the door and made my way up the steps to the house, the familiar dark looming exterior making me feel small. I hung up my jacket and glanced forward to see the light still on in the kitchen at a distance, Minho’s figure still seated at the island, staring down at his crossed hands on the counter in front of him. I let out a huff and made my way up the stairs to my bedroom, closing the door behind me and dropping myself onto the bed in the darkness.

I reached up, pulling my phone off the nightstand to check the time. Multiple texts and missed calls from Seongho littered my screen. I swiped to unlock it, eyes adjusting to the bright light in front of me and attempting to view the string of messages left.

6:20PM: Hey Siu, your shift started 20 minutes ago, where you at?

7:00PM: Siu? You good?

7:42PM: Seriously, you’re starting to worry me, just say something at least, this isn’t like you.

9:00PM: If you don’t respond by the time my shift is over, I’m showing up at your place.

11:00PM: I’m dead serious, you better say something.

It was very quickly nearing 2AM, so I knew his shift would be over shortly, and the last thing I needed was for him to show up to my empty apartment already panicked. I quickly typed out a response to him in a fog, telling him I was alright, but needed to explain everything to him later. Shutting the screen off, I buried my face into my pillow and shut my eyes, trying to force myself to finally fall into a slumber.

Next Chapter

[hetalia-club]

Another rant about my ex hopefully the last one ever as I decided in some self reflecting to distance myself from him entirely, hopefully not even acquaintances.

I need to vent to someone, the problem is I don't have anyone I'm comfortable enough IRL to share all this with without them giving me those sad eyes and a 'there there'. So I'm using my blog. You don't have to read this. feel free to scroll on by. If you don't get triggered easily I would like if you did, you don't have to give me feed back or advice, I'm not looking for that. I'm mostly wanting to get what he did to me in the open so I can hopefully move on with my life. Throwing it into the void of the internet is better than writing it into a book and locking it in a drawer forever. People have to know how terrible he was to me. He shouldn't get off scot-free and have happiness while I still suffer. I tried to keep this as vague as possible and I'm not going to go into deep detail of all my abuse because a lot of it I still don't want to face for myself. Tw for abuse of all kinds. If you read this and at any point think "Hey that sounds kind of like my relationship." This is your wake up call to run far far away and not look back.

I Would just like to put it out there that I am NOT still in love with my ex. I hate that mother fucker. I hate that I probably gave him a confidence boost by trying to get back together. He does not deserve that. He deserves to be as miserable as he made me for 5 years. I genuinely believe he is objectively a terrible person. I know him very well and he is a very manipulative person. I don't think he truly cares about anyone but himself. I think the only reason he wants a GF is for someone to take care of his house chores and 'other' needs. That's it. He does not enjoy being in relationships. He does not like having serious conversations and he is mean as hell when you try and make him do something he does not want to do...which is anything. And he also won't tell you he didn't want to do it until after he did it and then he'll make your life miserable all week.

Was I just 'jealous' that he moved on? No, I don't think that's even correct really. I Truly think I'm petty and I don't want him to be happy. I want him to stay alone and miserable because that's all he deserves really. He mentally abused me for actual years why should he get to have a new girlfriend? He doesn't deserve one. He also STILL has not told me he's seeing anyone which I find INSANE because he texts me all the time. I normally reply lately I've been ignoring him. I know now that I mentioned getting back together he thinks I 'want him' and he gets off on the idea that I'm 'waiting around for him'. Well truly it couldn't be further from the truth. I think I hate him. I hate how he treated me, I hate how he moved on and I hate how he refuses to tell me, I hate his stupid Jeep Truck, I hate his temper, I hate his stupid uggo face, I hate his body, I hate his mustache he never trims no matter how many times I asked, I hate how he would bully me into crying and then once I started crying he would tell me I was over reacting and try and frame it like I were the crazy one and I would believe that I was. You don't have to beat someone to abuse them....Right? No he wouldn't do that...he loves me, he says so all the time so he must mean it, right? Some men are more upfront about their abuse, others hide it in crafty little ways eating away at you until you believe you are the problem. It MUST be you right? He keeps saying so. I mean... he's never hit you. He's never threatened you or scared you, he's never hurt you, or has he? Honestly you can't really remember, but it doesn't sound like something he would do. And he said he didn't. You're just over reacting like he says. You're hysterical. You need help. You should get therapy to make his life easier. You should stop bothering him so much with 'relationship problems' that you probably caused. You're such a bad partner. You're lucky he's with you. Who would want to be? You're actually crazy! You're losing your mind. He said jump, now ask him how high. He bought you designer clothes, how could he be abusive? He spent so much money on you! So what if he just wants you to do 'a little something' to pay him back for it later? It's not asking much. Those sunglasses were 600 dollars. It's just thirty minutes of your life it'll be over soon, don't be dramatic. Oh my god! It's not even that big of a deal you're over reacting again. He said he loves you, if you love him you should give him these things he wants, he gives you what you want, right? right?

Just a small story to help you understand the kind of relationship I was in for 5years. One weekend he asks me if I want to go out to eat. I agree. He tells me I can pick the place. I say I want Outback. I was super into Cheese Fries these few months and they have really good ones. He said okay. Didn't say it didn't sound good or maybe we eat someplace else. He said it sounded good and he would pick me up at 7, cool.

He picks me up and we're talking about dumb shit on the way to town we live in the middle of nowhere so it's a 45 minute drive to any decent civilization. Well about half way there I just casually ask him if he called ahead at Outback. This was right after Covid when everything just started to open back up, so places were doing limited seating, so I knew we would have to call or there was no way we would get a table. He said that, "yes" he did in fact call and he told them 8. After he said this our previous conversation just sort of stopped I would say something and he would give me like a one word answer but he was being really quiet. I knew something was up but didn't pry because he doesn't like that.

We get to Outback, go inside and I ask him. "did you give them your name?" as we wait in line at the host booth. He straight ignores me, pretends i didn't say a word. We finally get up there and i look at him and he just stars ahead at noth and I'm like "Um 2 for 8 under *his last name*" The lady was like "Yeah we don't have anything for 2 at eight at all." I look at him and i was like "Didn't you call?" And he was like "Hua? What? No..." And I was like. "Dude you said you called when i asked you in teh car?" and he goes. "You never asked me if i called, if you did i would have told you no." And i was like. "Why are you lying? I'm not stupid you can't tell me i didn't ask you that it was 20 minutes ago my memory isn't that bad. and he goes. "Okay well I didn't call!" In a loud whisper and then I look to teh lady and was like do you have anything? And she was like it's a 2 hour wait.

So I'm pissed obviously, he's pissed for whatever reason. We leave and when we get back in the car I was like. "Why did you lie to me about something so stupid?" And he starts SCREAMING. Telling me "He knew this would happen" That "I'm just mad because I didn't get my way" That I'm "Spoiled" and "I know you're just mad because we can't eat at Outback you always get this way about food!" and you know I was pretty pissed we were no longer eating at Outback seeing how he told me I could pick the place and I told him I wanted cheese fries. But I was mainly pissed that he just lied to me about something so dumb to my face and like I wouldn't find out when we got there. So he's yelling at me and I'm just sort of meekly trying to plead my case while he flies off the handle like a crazy person over something so dumb. And I was like "Just take me home, I don't want to be here anymore." he panics and was like. "I'm not taking you home I drove all this way to eat I'm not wasting money on gas because you're throwing a bitch fit. Pick somewhere else." So I picked Roadhouse, they also have cheese fries, not as good but beggars can't be choosers. I could tell that this choice irritated him. But he begrudgingly called and I could hear the phone conversation because it was just me and him in the car and the guy on the phone said it was only a 45 minute wait. He got of the phone and looked me in teh eyes and lied to me again saying they said "it was a two hour wait there to." I didn't tell him I heard the dude on the phone say only 45 minutes because I didn't know how he would react and honestly. It's been like 30 minutes now of just sitting in the car and him screaming at me so I'm just like "Pick anywhere I don't fucking care I would rather you took me home but just pick someplace. I will eat road kill at this point if we can just stop fighting" He insisted I pick so I was like "Okay Chilies, let's go there no one is ever there." They also have cheese fries, and our Chilies sucks so there truly is no one ever there idk how they are even still open, I believe it may be some sort of Mafia front, that is the only explanation. The parking lot is always empty.

Then he flips it... See this is how you start to see just how he would wear me down mentally until I just gave up. He goes. "Why do you always get to pick the place we eat?" And I was like "You told me to!" And he was like "Only because You'll get mad if I say anything about where we eat, see you're so mad at me now because we can't eat at Outback like you wanted everything is about you. You never ask where I want to eat." And I was like. "OMG WTF are you talking about!?" which was the first time I raised my voice this entire conversation. So he starts punching the steering wheel over and over again. So hard that the car is literally shaking and he broke the volume control button on his steering wheel. I'm just sitting there looking at him like 😒 when he stops there is like five minutes of silence as he just glares ahead of us in the parking lot and he goes. "How about *insert name of our local sushi place*" And I'm like "That's fine, let's just go anywhere." Then. There is a complete 180 on his personality. He's all smiles on the drive there, opening up a conversation about something (can't remember what) and I'm still seething inside because, that was all so stupid and immature. When we get there it's an hour and 1 1/2 wait and he tells the guy "yeah that's fine we'll wait" Like fuck you...we could have stayed at Outback. I still want French fries you bitch you took me to maybe the one place in town I can't order cheese fries, the whole reason we are out tonight, because I told you I was craving cheese fries. He took me to the bar and he was all flirty and he bought me an expensive drink with his typical. "Anything you want baby" Okay sure anything I want except fucking cheese fries, I guess! This is how he would get when he were trying to show off. But it was all just a mask he could take on and off as easily as normal people blink their eyes. I asked him. "So what was that punching the steering wheel all about?" And he was like. "What do you mean?" And I was like. "How you were repeatedly punching the steering wheel, why were you doing that? Was that supposed to be me or what?" Well if you guessed denial and gaslighting you would be right, though it happened less than 2 hours ago. According to him "I never did that. what are you talking about? I mean I put my hand on the steering wheel but I never punched it." So I dropped it. Why argue with someone who is a pathologically liar? We fought a lot because I never knew when he was telling me the truth because he would lie all the time about the dumbest shit, stuff he KNEW I was there for, conversations he denied happening. Ones I could literally prove with text messages and he would tell me, you took that the wrong way.

These are the kind of fights we had CONSTANTLY. (Along with some other bigger ones involving other things) So yes. They did start to feel normal. Being told I didn't know what I was talking about when I knew better was just a weekly occurrence. I always assumed he was lying to me. He eventually succeeded in convincing me I was 'crazy' and I went and got a major increase on my medication, with the promise from him that he would go to therapy for his anger issues, never happened. He all but forced me to go get on the birth control shot because I couldn't take the pill, it makes me violently ill and I have morning sickness while on it and am miserable every day. And the shot absolutely destroyed my hormones and I don't think my body ever recovered from it to this day. Which he assured me he would pay for, and then after the third shot I asked to him why hasn't he paid me back he claims this never happened and he never said he would pay for my birth control and why would he? It's not his birth control (okay crazy was of looking at it, i guess this is only for me then) So I told him I was going to go off of it because it was 300 bucks every month and I had to drive all the way to Fort Wayne to a woman's clinic. He said "No don't go off it I'll pay" he paid for it once, saw how much it was and was like "Fuck that" Also funnily enough the shot made me lose ALL attraction to him. Once it got regulated in my system I and nothing for him anymore, he disgusted me. Everything he said and did gave me the ick. I was in denial for about 2 years and tried to convince myself I did find him attractive and that it would come back eventually, never did. Both of these were medical abuse btw, I am aware of that now.

So as you can imagine as I was not attracted to him anymore I hardly wanted to sleep with him. But he would guilt trip me for it until I would feel bad and just do whatever he wanted. Even going as far as to mess with me in my sleep, I would pretend I didn't know but I did. It always made me so sad that the next morning he would act as though nothing happened, I know he knew I was awake, I am an extremely light sleeper. It's almost like he liked the idea that I didn't say anything to him about it. But he also knew I wouldn't say anything because I don't like confrontation and I knew he would deny it anyway. And this is just straight up SA

The entire idea of a new relationship to me now just feels so...what's the word I want? Tainted maybe? I don't think I believe in romantic love. I don't think he deserves love. I also don't think he's capable of giving love. I don't think he'll ever change, he has told me before. "This is who I am and I'm not changing for you or anybody." he truly believes he is a nice and good person which is the worst part. He thinks he's just fine the way he is. That everyone else is the problem. But the way I see it there is a common denominator. I should have realized when we first got together that his apprehension to tell me about ANY of his past girlfriends was odd. Not even their names. I still don't know who he's all dated or how many people or anything. Even if he insisted I give him my entire sexual history basically on the first month of our relationship. But I ask him who his last GF was and he gets all "You shouldn't be asking me that, the past is the past, don't worry about it" I thought that was weird he didn't even want to tell me names your GF knowing who your most current ex is, is not weird, it's very normal. He never spoke about them, it was like they never existed. But I knew he dated a girl with a kid once. I asked him about it and he pretended to not know who I was talking about, of course surprise surprise. Before we got together I overheard his cousin at a party say that he is a "very sneaky guy and a liar". She didn't say it in a nice way either she said it with a lot of distain like she was speaking from past experience. She was calling him for what he was and I wish I would have absorbed what she had said. I wish I would have asked her "What do you mean?" I wish could go back in time and tell myself not to say yes to a date with him. I should have known that the first time we ever hung out he pressured me to do things even though I pushed him away multiple times and he kept moving his hand back. I should have know he was terrible I should have been able to see it. I hate myself for not seeing it. I would always give him the benefit of the doubt, I would blame myself for not speaking up, not calling him out. But I know it was all him. He had me right where he wanted me, he knew me better than anyone he knew what I wouldn't react to out of social anxiety. I hate myself, but I hate him more for what he's done to the way I look at all men. Oh how I hate them! They all unfairly get blamed for the way he treated me and it's not fair. I hate that I meet a new man and assume he is terrible, a wolf in sheep's clothing. A liar and manipulator. I always wonder, what is he like when he gets mad? What does he think about the word no? I hate it. I've never hated anyone more. The worst part is I can't let him go. He is still in my mind after 7 months he still creeps in and I think about him. I wonder what he's doing, how he's doing. I hate it. And sometimes i miss him. But why? Why do I miss his abuse? What's wrong with me? What's wrong with him? Why do I fantasies about men who would treat me badly after being with him? Why do I feel like I'm not worthy of being treated like a decent human? Why do I only write relationships that are toxic and depressing with abuse and then apologies only for it to happen again? Is it a way of self therapy or is it something I really secretly desire? Why do I think that's what a relationship should be? Why can't I get him out of my head? Why can't I write cutesy romance with 'love' and kisses, why does it always turn into a tragedy? Why does it not feel like a good 'love' story until I've written abuse in some way? with someone hurting teh others what should be beyond repair for them to just forgive and forget? You all want to know like...the worst part honestly? In hindsight he kinda ugly fuckin' tho, fucking tragic. Like he's not even hot. What's the damn point.

[ilynpilled]

hits massive blunt: soo what if …- like listen what if jaime’s golden hand is his attempt to rebuild his past self in some way…. to fill that emptiness.. like an attempt to compromise with his ghosts and his current self.. his phantom fingers itch for violence.. when he wants revenge re hoat this phrase is present, it is present twice with lancel, neither revenge happens— his golden hand kills moonboy and smashes cersei’s teeth in a dream, like the mountain did to poor pia as he points out…. like goldenhand the just cannot exist tho. it is a golden lie. gold becomes the phantom. it doesnt work it is incompatible with what he wants to be. the glorious golden knight is a fictive ideal that is not real., he discovered this when he was 17. chivalry & glory & lannisterism has no place in where he wants to be. thats brutal & sickening violence covered in gold. this is why in his final dream he has no golden hand.., only a stump… “only one” he has to look at the “ugliness of his stump” cut that part off—he needs to let go of that past self right. right before he burns the letter and reaches the point of no return, and then changes direction in adwd—

His missing hand throbbed and burned and stank. When I reach King's Landing I'll have a new hand forged, a golden hand, and one day I'll use it to rip out Vargo Hoat's throat.

Jacelyn Bywater could wear an iron hand, he should have a gold one. Cersei might like that. A golden hand to stroke her golden hair, and hold her hard against me.

“Wear it, Jaime," urged Ser Kennos of Kayce. "Wave at the smallfolk and give them a tale to tell their children." "I think not." Jaime would not show the crowds a golden lie. Let them see the stump. Let them see the cripple. "But feel free to make up for my lack, Ser Kennos. Wave with both hands, and waggle your feet if it please you."

“The boy is dead.“ Jaime had drunk three cups of wine, and his golden hand seemed to be growing heavier and clumsier by the moment.

His golden fingers were curved enough to hook, but could not grasp, so his hold upon the shield was loose. "You were a knight once, ser,” Jaime said. “So was I. Let us see what we are now.”

When he descended for the feast that night, Jaime Lannister wore a doublet of red velvet slashed with cloth-of-gold, and a golden chain studded with black diamonds. He had strapped on his golden hand as well, polished to a fine bright sheen. This was no fit place to wear his whites. His duty awaited him at Riverrun; a darker need had brought him here.

The hand was wrought of gold, very lifelike, with inlaid nails of mother-of-pearl, its fingers and thumb half closed so as to slip around a goblet's stem. I cannot fight, but I can drink, Jaime reflected as the lad was tightening the straps that bound it to his stump. "Men shall name you Goldenhand from this day forth, my lord," the armorer had assured him the first time he'd fitted it onto Jaime's wrist. He was wrong. I shall be the Kingslayer till I die.

The golden hand was the occasion for much admiring comment over supper, at least until Jaime knocked over a goblet of wine. Then his temper got the best of him. "If you admire the bloody thing so much, lop off your own sword hand and you can have it," he told Flement Brax. After that there was no more talk about his hand, and he managed to drink some wine in peace.

One of them wore the ruins of a crimson cloak, but Jaime hanged him with the rest. It felt good. (It should not feel good you dumb fuck. You of all ppl is in no place to do this. im so sick of all the projection u keep doing in this damn book. be it ilyn be it outlaws be it cersei be it kettleblack) This was justice. Make a habit of it, Lannister, and one day men might call you Goldenhand after all. Goldenhand the Just. The world grew ever greyer as they drew near to Harrenhal.

“Radiant.“ Fickle. ”Golden.“ False as fool’s gold. Last night he dreamed he’d found her fucking Moon Boy. He’d killed the fool and smashed his sister’s teeth to splinters with his golden hand, just as Gregor Clegane had done to poor Pia. In his dreams Jaime always had two hands; one was made of gold, but it worked just like the other.

The weight of his golden hand had grown irksome. He fumbled at the straps that secured it to his wrist.

Well, what’s one more broken vow to the Kingslayer? Just more shit in the bucket. Jaime resolved to be the first man on the battlements. And with this golden hand of mine, most like the first to fall.

Around him he glimpsed the faces of men he’d done his best to kill in the Whispering Wood, where the Freys had fought beneath the direwolf banners of Robb Stark. His golden hand hung heavy at his side.

then the subconscious conclusion:

“Is it?” She smiled sadly. “Count your hands, child.”

One. One hand, clasped tight around the sword hilt. Only one. “In my dreams I always have two hands.” He raised his right arm and stared uncomprehending at the ugliness of his stump.

[sourcerry]

My body issues are acting up again, so naturally I project them on to a fictional character - because I can't, for the love of god, find a therapist. This is mainly a sad Hob/caring Dream self indulgence.

I'm thinking about Hob falling into a rabbit hole on the internet and not being his happy confident self. Maybe it's because things move on so fast this century. Maybe it's because you're connected with everything all the time.

The thing is Hob used to think very little about his body. First because he just had to keep it running, later he focused on achieving different things from money to education.

Bodies and their shapes however, seem to be the main focus of people these days. So it's for the first time that he actually looks at himself and worries. He is quite on the hairy side of men and since he quit the soldering he got quite soft around the middle. After his experience with starvation, he enjoyed food more than ever and perhaps, indulged more than it was appropriate.

Since Dream visited more often and things were evolving from friendship to relationship, Hob feels more and more insecure. Dream used to persue great leaders and goddesses. Hob is neither and it bothers him. He fears that he won't be able to keep Dreams attention for long. So maybe being nice to look at would help him. Just to keep him a little longer.

The plan of action is quite simple. Lose the fat and gain more muscle mass. The internet offers a lot of solutions. From healthy to harmful - he can't die, so what does it matter? He cuts back on food, fits regular exercise in his already busy schedule and soon sees results. His body changes but his insecurities don't. He still finds things to dislike or right on hate about himself. It affects his whole life, his mood and his dreams.

Right after Dream told him about his true nature, Hob asked him to not interfere with his dreams. He liked them - dreams and nightmares alike. Just like he loved life with its ups and downs.

Now he suffers through nightmares of not fitting into his clothes, people calling him nasty things, Dream leaving him for someone better looking.

Dream of course notices the changes but doesn't know how to bring them up. While he honours his promise, he can't help to steal a glance at Hobs visits in the Dreaming. He just needs to understand what's happening. When he does it breaks is heart. It really does. He still doesn't know how to confront his friend, who became way more than a friend, during his past visits.

Falling in love with Hob had been so easy and felt so natural, it had never occurred to Dream, that it needed clarification.

His next visit is, like all visits, unannounced but carefully planed. He enters into Hobs living room and finds him standing in front of a huge mirror. Just staring at his reflection without really seeing anything. Dreams stands behind Hob and startles him. When Hob tries to turn around Dream just shakes his head and holds on to Hobs hips. They are way sharper than they should be. Pointy bones easily felt trough the fabric of his trousers. Slowly Dream moves closer and presses himself into Hobs back, finding his gaze in the mirror.

They've rarely been this close and Dream cherishes the warmth that's oozing from Hob.

"Dream..wh- what are you doing?" Hob stutters. Heat filling up his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He feels caught and ashamed and so happy to have Dream touch him.

"I worry." Dream answers, his voice a deep hum. "You seem to be unaware of how much you mean to me. Meant to me through all the centuries. It seems that I have neglected to show you." He sounds remorseful.

"Dream.." Hob starts but Dreams look shuts him up.

"Please, Hob, let me finish. I want you to know. I need you to know, that you are acknowledged and seen. That you are loved and cherished. I need you to know that my feelings for you run deep and will not fade. I need you to know that you are in my thoughts permanently and that I wouldn't change that, even if I could. It hurts me to see you hurt so deeply, Hob Gadling, as your wounds feel like my own." During his speech a wet sheen covers his eyes and tears cling on long lashes. Hob tries to take a deep breath but it gets caught in his throat and turns into a wet sob. Big tears run down his face and his emotions are all over the place and drowning him.

Carefully Dream steps around himself and blocks his view into the mirror. Hob feels Dreams arms hold him close in a loving embrace and between one blink and the next, they are in his bedroom, no mirrors in sight. He is guided onto his bed and held through all his sobs, tears and sniffles. Fingers carding through is hair and rubbing circles on his back. "I'm sorry" he whispers again and again. "You have nothing to apologize for, my love".

The endearment rips another sob from Hob. He feels utterly pathetic. But Dream is patient and holds him. When the sobs stop, he tells him stories and when he falls asleep, he is welcomed in the Dreaming with warm hands and gentle kisses.

Nothing changes over night. Hob is still painfully insecure and worries whenever Dreams been kept away for a longer period of time. Dream is patient and kind and doesn't tire of showing his love for Hob in all the ways he knows.

[raging-ale]

;; PROMPT 004 !

an offering -- alejandro felt in that moment that he really didn't have much to offer to anyone, truly. having grown up on his own, tossed around from family to family and never having anyone stick to him due to whatever problems they seem to not have been able to how they will call it solve. alejandro knew that now things were different, he had a lot to lose now and so much to offer. turning to look at the statue of his father - remember the first moment he looked upon it and there was so much hate that wanted to unleash, so much blame - refusing to accept being the son of ares, only wanting to take the powers to be able to get to hopefully meet the man that he blames for all the suffering he's been through.

TW: blood, self harm, suicidal thoughts, & death mentions.

waiting for everyone to have left so he was left alone, he now he stands before the statue of his father, with a smile on his face, proud, honored to have the blood of ares coursing through him. there was still a lot to understand and learn but he knew that both his mother and his father were watching over him now. images of otus and ephialates flash before him, the memories of that day - having almost died, been almost taken to live a death of torment all because of his father reminded him of the single moment that his father shown up, helping him in a battle he felt he should have lost. it was his anger, his fear of being alone, of his now new family around him, those he cares about and will protect with everything he has. hearing his father's voice - his mother - both of them together - proud of him made him keep fighting.

"father?" he said softly as he stood before the statue. "i didn't get to thank you for helping me.. showing yourself when i feel like you didn't need to.. okay, no fuck that - you did need to, you owe me so fucking much and i .. " he paused, feeling his anger rising up, his hands balling into fist - nails once more cutting into skin as he began to bleed. not caring who was around him in that moment, he closed his eyes as he felt that fear coming up all over again. "i could have fucking died!" he yelled, echoing the temple around him as his eye flashed an angry red. "i know you are hearing me, i know you are proud of me like you said - but why is it so hard to be your son? why does it have to hurt? i am working on controlling it, but it's not as easy as some people are making it out to be." he paused, slowly bring out his bloody hands out before him. images of his past come flashing forward. the men he's needed to kill to stay alive, the amount of blood he has in his hands truly reflected so much. having yet never told anyone truly about his past - scared that he will lose them all and see them as a monster - he already feels like some might see him as such. rage coursing though him, bloodlust craving, a war in his heart always ready to burst.

there it was, tears flowing as he fell to his knees - feeling so defeated in that moment. all the hard work he's been putting through has felt like it's been fading away. the nightmares have been feeling more and more real, the anger bubbling up inside him, so much pain. those thoughts of ending it all were creeping back in, just to ease the pain for once and for all - but that promise he made to his mother is what truly kept him going. hands pointed out as the wounds began to heal fast, the son of ares let out a soft sob to himself. "i am fucking scared and i can't show it to them, i have to be strong for them and -- " alejandro closed his hands once more and punched the ground under him, letting out another yell as he sobbed.

sitting there in front of the statue of his father, minutes go by - lost in his thoughts, lost in the memories old and new, he began to feel himself being brought back to himself with the voices in his head, different voices this time. his friends, his new family - telling him to stand up, keep fighting - one by one he heard their voices, the demigods close to him, then the voice of his mother rang in his ear and filling this pain with a soft touch of love. "i wish i could have gotten to know her.. i wish i would have had a mother... a father... i hate that i was so alone... but ... i ... i have a family ... now.... and i'll fight for them!" standing up, tears staining his cheeks, he looked back up at the statue of his father. "thank you.. for this pain, for this anger - because without it i will be dead. without you... i will be dead by now."

slowly alejandro warped his hand around the necklace he always worse since he was a child. a necklace given to him having his initials on them. a thin gold chain with a spear head hanging in the middle. "this is all i have left of her.. this was all i was able to be given from her." his voice calm, gentle as he stepped up closer to the statue. "i -- " taking a deep breathe, alejandro reached back and took off the necklace from his neck. bringing it up to really get a good look at it once more before kneeling down once more. "as the son of ares, i promise to make you proud, fight in your name - let those that come to harm anyone that i care for, anyone that needs protection, i will fight for them. rip their heads off their shoulders, bring them fear for even thinking about trying to challenge me." taking the sharp end of the necklace, he digs into his palm, cutting himself deep and coating it with blood before placing it down as his offering.

"your blood runs through me and with the love of my mother - you two will always be the reason i live - i thank you for being... my father, even if i hate you sometimes." he couldn't help but laugh to himself as he started to stand up. "i really hope to meet you in person.. fight you, kick your ass -- just like i hope you want to meet me... " there was this fire inside him as spoke. there was still so much work to be done, so much control he needed to figure out - but he knew that he was going to be able to control all aspects of his life one day. "oh and one more thing." he flipping the statue off with a smile on his face. "fuck you, asshole." it was playful, not angry - just hoping that it would give his father a kick. turning to leave, he whispered to himself. "love you, papa... " never having said that ever in his life - it just felt right in that moment, feeling like he was truly there with him, comforting him, like a father would have done. "love you both..."