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#Eroded Buttes
thorsenmark · 2 years
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Badlands, Trees, and Prairie at River Bend Overlook (Theodore Roosevelt National Park)
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Badlands, Trees, and Prairie at River Bend Overlook (Theodore Roosevelt National Park) by Mark Stevens
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coquelicoq · 17 hours
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maintenance guy just showed up at my door unannounced to check out something i reported yesterday...on the one hand loving this prompt service. on the other hand, give a broad some warning. i am in my pajamas and the place is a sty. but he might actually fix a thing that's been bugging me for over a decade, so that would be nice. not that that was urgent, obviously. so i would have appreciated a heads-up.
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witchlaser · 9 months
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tumblr asking you to add tags to posts is like reddit asking you to add interests on the landing page when you log in I don't know why half of these euphemisms for "butt I wanna touch" even exist, so I'm just adding shit at random, or leaving it largely empty, based on how bored I am or ain't from day to day
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queenendless · 3 months
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💗Safe Haven (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)💗
A/n: ... I legit had no clue what to write. So it's gonna be short. Sorry. God this JJK burnout is getting worse!
Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, and these two are enemies on opposites sides but in reality are secret lovers (though it ain't a secret to those who truly know them) with you as their third. And like reader-chan, I need comfort right now.
PLEASE DON'T PLAGARIZE, TRANSLATE, COPY, REPOST AND ETC MY FAN CONTENT. Reblog, like, and follow instead thnx u.
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The front door of the apartment unlocked, swinging open as that familiar boisterous voice boomed out. “Sweetheart~! Your Toru is here~!” The door slide closed as Satoru Gojo took off his black dress boots to leave by your welcome mat.
His socked, heavy footsteps sounded getting closer in just a few strides. “Did ya miss me? Cause I sure missed — !”
The sounds of glass shattering followed by the loud thump of something falling made him run, honed in on your cursed energy. Finding you crumbled up on the glass shard covered floor of the living room.
“Y/n!?” Using the barest traces of cursed energy in his finger to collect the shards only to erode them into cursed nothingness, he could safely tend to you. “Hold on. I got you.”
Only when he slowly helped you roll around to sit up on your butt did he see crimson dripping down your hand from the cut open wound on your wrist.
“Fuck.” He muttered before speaking out loud. “I don't see any glass in there. Still,” He pulled off his blindfold to bind it tight enough to put enough pressure to stop the bleeding.
“Toru, your blindfold!”
“I have plenty of backups stashed back at my place. And here, of course. Besides, this is just temporary.” His updo now freed to let his hair down hang over those radiant eyes that bore anxious concern for you as well as the utmost confidence, pulling your uninjured hand up gently as his other arm wrapped around your waist to get you on your feet.
“Not to worry, my dearest angel. Your valiant lover will get you all patched up in no time.”
The sliding open of the rolling door leading to the balcony grabbed your attention.
Then again, you both felt that familiar cursed presence coming a mile away.
“Well now,” Seeing the manta ray returning to his own shadow, Suguru Geto hummed deeply. “What have we here?” He took off his zōri sandals to place by the open doorway. “Satoru, you're no healing nurse like Shoko is, ya know.”
“For your information, Suguru,” the sassy hurt in Gojo's voice betrayed the grin that was there. “I happen to be a wonderful nurse!”
Geto cheekily pointed out. “Then you have a small bloody puddle to wipe up, nurse-sama~”
Satoru groaned a bit. “Hang on. I can't be expected to do all the work.”
“My blood, my mess to clean up.” You meekly pointed out.
Satoru gently lifted you up by the waist just to plop you on the couch, clicking his tongue and wagging his finger at you. “Sorry love, but you look exhausted. No wonder you collapsed earlier and got yourself hurt. Now you need to take it easy.”
Suguru sighed deeply. “Very well. I'll help my dear Satoru out if it'll make him happy.”
Both men hummed as Gojo leaned over to smooch Geto for several drawn out moments to fill that mouth with its usual sweet taste. “Thank you~” Gojo beamed before stalking off to the bathroom where you kept the first aid kit under the sink.
Seeing a decent sized, withered red leaved Jubokko tree become sentient with blinking eyes creep out of Suguru's shadow made your curl away from it. “Sorry dearest, but it'll help clean up the mess much faster.” Suguru assured, despite cringing as its hole of a mouth sucked up every trace of blood on that floor, hissing as its root hands reached out for your bloody clothed wrist only to be sucked back into Suguru's shadow again.
“Wretched leech.” He griped, his white tabi socked feet padded over to you.
You flushed pink at the sight of Suguru undoing his gold-colored kāṣāya garment to drape over the couch as he rolled up his black yukata robe sleeves.
“Choosing to leave the sorcerer life is one thing … but living among these … monkeys. Honestly honey, I'd prefer you live with me and the girls … though with everything that's been transpiring lately …” He sat down and gingerly took your wrapped wrist, smiling faintly recognizing Gojo's blindfold even if bloodstained. “I can see why living away from all that chaos does seem safer.”
“I have returned!” Satoru slid in, holding the kit above his head like it was the newborn heir of the Pride Lands. “So, since I got here first and all, I figured you are up to playing nurse this time?”
“Fine by me. But best we clean it in the bathroom.” Geto recommended.
Gojo drooped, whining. “Back the way I came then. Jeez, could've told me that earlier?”
Geto scoffed. “Oh hush you.”
The cold tap water of your bathroom sink ran as the blindfold was unbound, plopping into the sink, crimson draining away as you kept your wrist under the running faucet.
“Fortunately, the cut isn't that deep so no stitching is needed. Still, I suggest you focus your attention elsewhere to make it seem less painful in your mind's eye, love.” Suguru cautioned as he doused a spare soft clothed rag on the countertop with your mild hand soap before letting it get wet enough.
“You can start by explaining why you're so pooped out?” Hugging you from behind meant you could lean on Satoru's sturdy body as your fatigue was coming back in.
“Insomnia.” You whined a bit as he lifted you up again just to plop you on the counter. “Depression. Lonesomeness – Figured it out now?” Your griping did unnerve them.
Your sniffling meant tears blurred your vision, looking away to face the wall and not them. Satoru weaved his hand through your hair, pulling your head to flush your weeping face in between his plush pecs as Suguru began dabbing and cleaning around the cut.
“I mean, work stress for one cause of course there is. Living here by myself for two. And seeing cursed spirits flock around here, harmless ones at that, still makes me anxious if things will escalate to full blown shit.” You felt yourself laxing as Gojo brushed your hair as well as your arm to reassure you that you weren't alone now. “I'm always gonna be worried for the day when you two don't come back … or for when you do return … but I'll be dead or worse.” The sting in your wrist was outweighed by the ache in your cracked heart.
Shadows covered both their faces, letting you speak.
“I know you both went through hell after Riko-chan … and Haibara-kun … and I thought leaving with Nanami-san would mean I find some semblance of peace and try to live as normally as I could.”
Gauze bandages gingerly covered your wrist as Geto's nimble hands got to work.
“Even so, I thought keeping in touch would be better than nothing … despite the risks … I needed to hear your voices again. See your smiles again. I'm sorry. I – !”
Tenderly holding your cheeks to have you look up at him, you became breathless as Gojo kissed you openly, his tongue brushing yours, capturing your sobs, brushing your streaking tears with those calloused thumbs of his.
“Never apologize for your big beautiful heart, you breathtaking angel.” Satoru heaved heavily, hot pants painting your trembling lips as various emotions swept through those big blue eyes.
Your chin was firmly grasped as your face turned to make way for Geto's lips as his thick neck flexed on how much he wanted to swallow your taste to drown out the horridness that is the taste of cursed spirits.
“How did two damaged beasts such as ourselves get to be blessed with the most endearing creature our eyes have ever laid upon?” Suguru whispered, devotion vivacious in his gaze.
Choked whimpers and shaky gasps leave your lips, submerged in their kisses of unified warmth.
“You were with me at my lowest point when I needed someone to hear me the most.”
“You knocked some sense into my dense noggin and dragged me back just so me and Suguru would hash things out.”
“Even prideful maniacs need to hash things out.” You yawned as Gojo carried you bridal style while Geto hurried packing the first aid kit away.
“I'm sorry we haven't made enough time for you, angel. I'm the biggest packing tank for handling the shittest messes those elders can throw at me. Doesn't beat seeing you though.” Satoru purred the last line as he flicked his pinkie finger to get your door to open. You giggled as he fell atop you on the bed, snatching Suguru's wrist as he just came in after. “Both of you~!”
Suguru's exasperated sigh was betrayed by his wistful grin as he smooched the smirk stretching on Satoru's face.
The sky went from cloudy and blue to the warm colors of the sunset.
Giant sculpted fingers traced your face. From your lashes to your nose. Brushing your forehead, your cheeks, then finally your breathing lips. Lost in deep sleep, Suguru watched in wonder at how serene you appeared.
Stripping off that black zip-up work jacket of his to drape over the dresser, Satoru laid down beside you, brushing your hair leisurely.
“So … what happens now?” Suguru murmured.
“Well,” Satoru hummed, raising a finger. “Option one: we keep going as things have been but that will still leave our little lamb all by her lonesome while we're swept up in the war of our ideals.”
“Option two: we both come clean about our secret but be labeled and hunted as partners in crime.” Suguru continued, raising his own finger.
“Or … there's always option three.” Oh Satoru the ominous.
“Which is?” Suguru was hesitant to ask.
“We three elope, you two and the girls can move into my place, we get two cats that look like us and we name them Catoru and Cuguru~!”
. . .
Suguru laughed under his breath. “You're such a doofus.”
“Well this doofus is all for you two to deal with til the end of our days.” Gojo drowsily put as he ruffled Geto's already tousled hair; his bun coming undone.
“Best to ask Y/n about it after she finally gets some good rest, first.” Geto kissed the wrist of Gojo's hand cupping his cheek; Gojo thumbed his earring filled, large earlobe.
“Hai Hai,” Pulling the younger man close enough, Satoru blissfully, deeply, lip lock danced with his best friend, partner in infamy, and one and only.
Well, one of two.
Heated panting hitting each other's faces, blue looked down, to which black followed.
Finally at ease, able to sleep with their distinctive scents and comfy warmth enveloping you.
For the first time in a while — what felt like forever to you actually — you were at peace.
Feeling velvety wet sweetness kissing you followed by another pair immediately after had you humming for more, to which brought you slightly out of sleep at how much they peppered your entire face with their loving kisses.
Sunset turned to night as their own exhaustion caught up to them both, spooning you from both sides, legs intertwined, snores filling the room, as three bundled into one among rustled sheets and strewn about pillows.
Your bandaged wrist brushed their bare wrists as their hands held yours.
Intertwined.
In hand.
And in life.
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loolingz · 1 year
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Hi, hi 👋 👋 I am not really sure if you are taking requests at the moment , if you don't that is totally fine. For the last week I have been reading your works and they had me hanging by a thread, I have read them several times now cause they are that good. That being said can I requests sae-nii with a little stepsister that has a petite body(small boobs/butt) that has seen her big bro being surrounded by mature women, and him not making a move to push them off, so that makes her so insecure : ( , so she starts to distance herself and hide her body from him because she thinks she is not attractive anymore. So after a week of sae confronting her and she just giving him the silent treatment, he corners her while she was changing and she just breaks down and tells him about her insecurity. Sae can not believe what kind bs his little stepsis is thinking so he throws her on her bed and starts eating her out while telling her he is not gonna stop till he hears her saying she is a pretty girl. The stepsis is stubborn and on low confidence so he ends up overstimulating her till she begins shaking and crying and is trying everything to take him off her while still refusing to admit she is beautiful. Suddenly she turns and tries(keyword :tries) to crawl away but Sae is quick to pin? her hips and continue. Poor stepsis can not hold on any longer and sae does not shows any signs of stopping so she caves in and chants that she is the most pretty girl and finally sae stops and tells her she will be punished more if she will ever think that again. I hope it made sense ? It is totally fine if you do not want to do it though : ). Do not forget to take breaks and have a great night or day !
hihi! 1) i really loved this ask oh my god, it’s absolutely stunning and 2) requests are always open unless stated otherwise so tysm for that! i really hope you enjoy this & have a great day! <33
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it truly did hurt. you felt terrible watching your nii-san with such developed women, whenever one of them clung to him, flirting and pushing their breasts against him. of course, he didn't notice - such matters were insignificant to him, so you didn't dare to tell him how you felt. it was intimidating to open yourself up in front of so many people who admired you and your stepbrother.
all it took for you to snap out of your thoughts was to hear sae call out your name, lightly rubbing circles on your shoulders. you quickly looked up, plastering on a smile. “sorry? i wasn't focusing, my mind was.. elsewhere.” you drifted once more to your train of thoughts, barely registering his words.
you could tell he mentioned going to the second party of the night, but you quickly informed him that you were exhausted. that was a lie, but he didn't know that. he gave you a nod before excusing himself and escorting you to his car. “is everything okay? you appear to be out of it.” he spoke quietly, but loudly enough for only you to hear.
“just fatigued, like I said. i'm sorry you had to end your night early; we had more parties to attend.” you sighed apologetically, your gaze fixed on your lap. pulling on the edge of your dress, you felt even more miserable than before. he bought it for you while he was abroad, the dress. you could feel his cold gaze on you, but he said nothing. to be honest, you preferred the pleasant silence of the ride home. it was preferable than talking when you were upset.
( O1 , O2 )
( O3 , O4 )
( O5 , O6 )
( 8:OO PM )
six days. that's the amount of time that has passed since the party incident, if you can even call it that. that's also how long you've been avoiding your stepbrother, sae itoshi. sure, it was stupid. but you didn't want to bother him and bring him down when he could be having the time of his life. he approached you more than usual, so you could tell he noticed.
even though you tried to avoid him, he managed to corner and chase you down like an animal.
“how long were you planning to avoid me for?” sae snarled quietly, his patience eroding from annoyance. “why the fuck are you avoiding me?” he continued asking questions, hovering over you. his gaze dug into you, his arms by your sides. “i've been trying to be a nice brother and check in on you, but it's been difficult because you keep hiding from me.”
“i wasn't trying to avoid you! i've just gotten busy!” you almost immediately responded, a shaky laugh exiting your lips. “why would i want to avoid you?” you played with the edge of your shirt, hardly able to squeak out your words.
“that's what i'm curious about.” he snarled. his arms now crossed over his chest. “you don't appear to be too busy for rin, but you are for me?” every word he spoke sent goosebumps up your spine and caused nervousness to rise within you.
“i don't know what you're talking about, nii-san,” you blurted out before pushing past him, a smile on your face. “but I really need to get going now, bye!” little pants were snatched from you as you ran to your room. you hadn't run far, but you were terrified. i was afraid he'd find out that you were envious of the women he hung around with. how you felt insignificant in comparison to the company he kept. hearing him shout your name and walk to your room was your cue to lock the door and bite your lower lip anxiously.
sae knocked twice on your door, and when all he received was silence, he sighed and walked away. as you fell onto your bed, the sound of his footsteps disappearing made you feel better. you sat in silence with your head buried in your pillow, the only sound bothering you being the buzzing of your phone.
“hello?” you reluctantly answered the phone before instantly regaining your composure when you heard your mother's voice. she mentioned taking you and your stepbrothers out to dinner to celebrate her nth anniversary with their father. you accepted her request without paying attention to what she truly wanted, thinking only of your previous encounter with sae.
“yes, sure, sure.” you waved to no one in particular before hanging up and unlocking your door. you often got thirsty from conversing when you didn't want to, so you strolled to the kitchen for some water. rin caught your eye from the opposite side of the room, and you smiled. “oh, rin, hurry up and get ready. mom invited us to dinner with her and your father. remember to tell sae!” you called out as you walked back to your room after your drink, running your fingers through your hair. it wasn't too messy, so you could easily style it. you shut your bedroom door and turned around, letting out a small yelp when you noticed sae in your room.
“sae! what are you doing here?” you asked, hands behind your back. he only stared back, his arms crossed. when you didn't get a response, you sighed and headed to your closet, trying to shake off his continuous stare at you. you felt a hand closing in on your wrist as you uncomfortably removed your shirt and attempted to put on another. you turned to face him, which was a mistake. you didn't know how fast he was, gripping your chin with his free hand and drawing you closer to him. you could feel his hot breath on you with your faces inches apart. “what's the matter? why are you avoiding me?” he murmured softly,
sae made sure his hold wasn't too tight to hurt you, but yet not too loose. “and don't say it's nothing; i'm not the moron you think i am.” he gently scolded you. your bottom lip quivered as you tried not to cry in front of him. he observed your reaction and continued coaxing you while stroking your cheek. that last move was the final push you needed to start sobbing while holding to your older stepbrother. “i just,” you cried, fiercely wiping away your tears. “you're usually with these women who are prettier and better looking than I am! when it comes to curves, i look and feel like a child in comparison to them, and that makes me feel like i'm embarrassing you."
as you opened out to him, you began muttering and sniffling silently. You felt horrible. when you didn't hear sae reply, you looked up at him, only to be met with the most bewildered look you'd ever seen. “sae?” you muttered gently, trying to read how he felt. 
 "you—" he halted for a second, staring at you. "Do you think I prefer those women over you?" Sae couldn't help but laugh as he leaned in closer, your back now brushing against the closet door. "Of course I do," you said, avoiding his gaze and glancing at the ground. "Have you seen how I look next to them?"
Sae looked at you and scoffed, speechless. "You truly are an idiot, aren't you?" Your eyes welled up at that line, and you bit your lower lip, trying not to cry any farther. It was only natural he would choose them over you, you were his stepsister—
"I'm not interested in them; I'm interested in you." He drew you in, your lips now just inches apart.
“don't make that joke, it's not funny.” you tried shoving him away with little force, your cheeks steadily burning up. “do you think i'm kidding? let me show you that i'm not.” sae leaned in close and kissed your lips in a frantic and passionate kiss, drawing you in closer than before.
to say it stole your breath away would be an understatement – you felt as if you had everything you could possibly want, as if you were on top of the world. sure, it was stupid, but you liked the idea of having him all to yourself. call it selfishness, but you were relieved he preferred you above the others. sae carried you from your thighs and dropped on the bed, with you now beneath him, exactly as you caressed his cheek and deepened the kiss. he panted silently, attempting to regain his breath. “stop dismissing yourself; you're much more attractive than those girls.” his remarks caused a crimson flush to appear on your cheeks, and you scoffed, not believing him at all.
"oh, no, that's not true!" as he removed your skirt, his cold and hard grasp on your thighs made you squeal. "stop lying; it is true. i won't stop until you admit that you're the most beautiful of all of them at the party." the way he stared at you told you that he wouldn't stop what he was about to do until he heard you speak those words, even if you dismissed them as a joke or a humorous threat. "yes, absolutely." you were ready to make another sarcastic remark when your breath hitched as you felt sae's tongue delicately lick your clothed cunt. when his eyes met yours, you could notice a dark cloud of lust in his. 
“well, i guess you'll have to take it the hard way.” you backed away as his teeth pulled down your panties. he'll definitely give up soon, right? there's no way sae would continue until you said the words.
wrong.
the moment you uttered those words, sae's tongue sucked on your clothed clit, making you gasp out in shock and pleasure.  you squeaked, squeezing your eyes shut and blushing heavily as he swirled his tongue round and round, teasing you with casual flicks; he was ravenous, fingers drawing circles on your chest, running his tongue over your clit and sucking hard.
sae pushed your cute tiny panties out of the way and threw them someplace, not caring about them right now despite your protests claiming that it was your favorite. “will you admit you're the most beautiful? we don't have to do things the hard way.”
hoping you were wet enough, sae pulled away and lowered his hand, his palm gliding over your stomach and between your legs, fingers sinking down and brushing against you where indeed, he came in contact with your slick and smirked, teasing your damp folds with his fingertips and observing how you shivered and shuddered under his touch.
you whimpered his name weakly, refusing to confess and he just drank in your shallow breaths as he continued to lazily suck on your tits whilst slipping two fingers in and out of your hole. sae was mercilessly teasing you, watching your reaction to his torturous actions. mind going hazy, you were a whimpering mess, squirming over the mattress. 
a strangled gasp left the back of your throat and you threw your head backwards into the pillow, back arching; he could tell you probably weren’t able to take much longer and released you with a wet pop, panting slightly.
“sae?” you murmured; reopening your eyes, you glanced down to see that he had positioned himself between your legs.
you blinked wide-eyed as he gently eased your legs apart and with a firm grip on your thighs, lowered himself even further, his face level to your pussy. although he’d done this to you before, your heart was pounding heavily, your nerves getting the best of you. he could see your pussy even clearer more than ever, your cunt wet and shiny with your slick and he carefully spread your lips.
sae looked up and your eyes met - you swallowed down and glanced to the side, blushing heavily and he said, “look at me. I want you to see what I’m doing to you.”
You slid your gaze to him and he smirked, leaned in, his hot breath fanning over your bare flesh – and suddenly you were aware of how close he was - before he buried his face into your cunt, his tongue flicking across your clit, gently at first.
immediately, you attempted to draw your knees to your chest but he held on, his grip on you tightening and your fingers scrunched into the sheets underneath as he sucked you with more force, groaning as you instinctively began to buck your hips further into his face, wanting to feel more of his tongue on you, his hair tickling your inner thighs.
his lips were glued to your cunt and sae kept you pinned in your spot, occasionally glancing up to see your reaction and listening to your little pants and desperate moans as your legs quivered by the sides of his head.
“sae,” you squeaked out. “i can’t take much more…”
“Yes, you can,” he murmured, and your response was a defeated whine as you threw your head back. you could hear the quiet wet noises coming from his mouth; he had moved his tongue to your sopping entrance and after one final suck, started tracing the sides in a teasing manner before he shoved his tongue in.
you gasped, fingers clawing at his hair as he persisted. all you could do was lie still with your legs hiked over his shoulders, wailing helplessly as you sank your hands into his messy hair, trying your best not to roll around over the mattress.
with a moan, your brows squeezed tightly together as he slowly loosened his grip on your legs and your first instinct was to automatically draw your legs to your chest once more. he slid his palms over your thighs, his eyes boring into yours. 
“i’m close… please sae..” you moaned helplessly, throwing your head to the side and grabbing onto the corners of the pillow as you came with a shaky breath.
( 12:OO AM )
and it continued. he pulled countless orgasms from you, so much that you both lost track of time and count. you sobbed, begged and pleaded for him to stop. but he didn’t. you hadn’t uttered the words he wanted from you, and it was currently, what? midnight? you had been going at it for four hours now, you sure were stubborn.
but you began to crack. 
“pleasepleaseplease—” how long had you been begging for? you forgot. but the pleasure was too much, you couldn’t take it anymore. “you know what you have to say, just say those words and i’ll stop it.” he whispered, mouth still attached to your dripping cunt. 
and you tried, you tried so hard not to but your body couldn’t. “i’m sorry, i’m the prettiest and the most gorgeous girl there was, i’m sorry! please, please—” you cried out, covering your face with one hand.
you felt a small smile form on his lips and he got up, finally letting your body rest as your chest heaved. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he mumbled, kissing your lips lightly. you could taste yourself on his lips — of course you did, he spent hours going down on you. 
“we should call your mum and reassure her.. as well as take a bath and change the sheets.” he suggested, picking you up in a bridal style.
only then did he realize, that you had fallen into a deep slumber. he didn’t mind though, he’d love to take care of you. it’s what he always tried to do, even if his attempts seemed cold and ruthless in ways.
and when you awoke later on, you were in his hands, his lips on your forehead as he slept.
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constantinoreal · 5 months
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Trans men and transmasc folk deserve so much better, always the butt of the joke, on top of being always invisibilized and the medical violence and the infantilization, and a million other things.
It's already bad enough the only way people knows to affirm our gender is to joke about the negative parts of being a man or masculine. Stinky, messy, insensitive, scary, abuser, rapist-Enough!
Even other trans men do this. Openly talking about how they regressed, chose to be less, decided to be boring, etc etc. The rest of transmasc folk don't have to know about your insecurity and self-hatred, sorry to say. A jab at yourself is an jab at the rest of us; I know loving yourself is hard, but learning to not internalize the relentless microviolence everyone else constantly performs on us is also a must.
Because being a man or masculine is not inherently a negative or bad thing, and insisting it is only puts down and erodes the self-steem and self-love of every men, yes, cis included.
So progressive and queer yet so many in the community don't know how to uplift and voice themselves without always putting down another group. It's exhausting.
Do better. You don't even need to become the spokesperson for every transmasculine individual, just stop shitting on masculinity for no good reason or making the same old joke of how stinky we are. People needs to learn for real how to better support and affirm trans men and transmasculine folks.
We won't ever progress if people within the community still have it ingrained that one gender is the good one and the other gender is the bad one. It's a preconceived notion that hurt EVERYONE.
If you are a trans guy or a transmasc individual: You are worthy of love, you didn't choose to be boring or worse, being your truest self can only be positive, your masculinity is beautiful and not an inherent threat to the rest of humanity. I love you
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edenfenixblogs · 2 months
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Love you all (personal)
Leaving my phone in another room for awhile. I'm not ignoring any of you, and I have seen and will respond to all your EXTREMELY KIND messages, even if it takes awhile.
I was attempting to take a break from all this over the course of the week, because I felt myself growing weary and needed a recharge. Then my ceiling collapsed in heavy rain and I had to turn off my "Work Hours Focus" setting on my phone. It was supposed to silence all notifications and alerts from non-work and non-family phone numbers and block all non-work apps.
LOL...not really possible to have that setting on when coordinating with a bunch HVAC/Roofer dudes I've never met before.
But still. Jewish law commands us to find joy somewhere even when we're miserable. And while I know that is a sentiment that does not work for a lot of people, it has always been helpful to me.
So, despite all this, I am grateful for the shift in my plans this week for several reasons.
I'm grateful we were able to band together to help @rabid-catboy with an actual urgent issue. It feels very good to do something that you know helps someone. If my phone was in work mode I never would have seen this message in time to do anything about it. I had a similar experience in high school and I still think about it often. I get upset at how much was being asked of me and how much I was expected to know so that I could educate my peers and educators to do better. I didn't have the words to describe why something was so upsetting to me and why I know that it was wrong. Years later, I found the words and was so angry that I was expected to have them even when I was a child. It's an unfair burden, and I'll always be grateful that, even though I didn't find the words in time, I could help someone else find their words.
I am glad to have seen how active allies have been over the past week. I'm pretty emotionally drained by this all the time, so I may not say it as clearly or as often as I should, butt you give me hope. I am not used to relying on other or sharing my grief. It's actually a big problem. I don't tell people when I'm upset, because I'm afraid to inconvenience people or seem dramatic. that's part of the reason I struggled through undiagnosed PTSD for 13 years before reaching out for help. With the help of my BFF and my therapist, I chose to start being more open about my emotions with people. It's been a mixed bag. The people I knew would be here for me have continued to be here for me, thank goodness! But all (except 1) of the people I THOUGHT I could trust have simply stopped interacting with me at all. And I'm a lot less pushy/aggressive/vocal about all his suff IRL than I am when I have time to compose my thoughts and answer questions on here. It's been cataclysmic and devastating. To see so many people I've never met IRL not only lend emotional support to me personally but also provide emotional and temporal labor into fighting antisemitism and supporting Jews more broadly has gone a long way to restoring the faith in humanity that this conflict is trying to erode within me. I know I'm not he only Jew who feels this way right now. Please never underestimate the impact you have just by visibly existing in this space with us.
It's been nice being able to channel my anxiety about my ceiling into something productive.
Reminder: I love you all. Sorry for delayed replies. I'll be back. <3
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swaps55 · 5 months
Note
Please tell me something about that Noveria First Kiss AU! <3
You may not like it, which is why it has remained a WIP. I toyed with making something happen with everyone having a night off at Port Hanshan, but what came out was some drunk teasing that escalated much faster than anyone (even me) guessed. Sam reacts badly when he doesn't have time to chew on his feelings first, and when he's up against a wall he lashes out. And, uh. His choice of targets was not ideal.
I didn't know how to fix the spot I got them into, or how the fuck to get the actual kiss out of it, so I haven't returned to it. Part of me wants to, just to explore it, because it feels in character enough to be worth poking at. But with Fugue and Mezzo being such angst fests, I haven't had the mental fortitude to give to it.
~
“You’re jealous,” Ashley informs him.
“Of what,” Shepard scoffs, giving her the same look he gave the NCD inspector who grounded the Mako.
“That woman is hitting on him, and you can hardly keep your butt in that chair.” She bops the leg of his seat with a foot. His eyes narrow.  
Garrus swivels his head between them, mandibles flaring, and Tali sets her cards down. Joker sits back in his seat and crosses his arm, like there’s a show about to happen and he’s got a front row seat. Wrex shoves another glass of ryncol towards her, and like an idiot, she takes it.
“He hates being hit on,” Shepard informs her.
“Yeah,” she says with a snort, “because it’s never you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean.”
Amazing how much nuance in the human – alien – whatever – voice gets lost when you’re drunk, or maybe she would have noticed how flat Shepard’s sounded, or how little humor was in it.
She grins. “It means he’s wanted in your pants since probably five minutes after he met you, and somehow you haven’t noticed.”
“I notice plenty,” Shepard says, leveling her with a stare. “We’re close. Why does everyone assume it has to be about sex?”
[more stuff]
“Leave it alone, Williams,” Shepard growls. “We are what we are. Stop trying to make it something it’s not.”
“Tell him that,” Ashley says, gesturing towards Alenko, who is now glancing over his shoulder while he waits for their drinks. “I have never seen someone so desperate over someone as that guy. Pretty sure if the two of you just got a room and fucked each other’s brains out you’d both be a lot better off.”
Shepard shoves out of his chair with enough force Ashley actually jumps. Just as she starts wondering if maybe she pushed him too far, Alenko chooses that moment to return with his drink. Garrus swivels his head between them, mandibles flaring, and Tali sets her cards down. Joker sits back in his seat and crosses his arm, like there’s a show about to happen and he’s got a front row seat.
“What’s going on?” Alenko asks, cautious.
Shepard meets his gaze like a rail gun lining up a target.
“So, what, you want to fuck me?” he demands, eyes flashing, and Ashley sucks in a breath. “Is that what we’ve always been about? Is getting in my pants what friendship is to you? Because if it is, fine. I’ll go fuck you in that corner right now if that’s the price of doing business.”
Alenko stares at him in incomprehension that erodes into something Ashley can’t even name, before it fades completely and all that’s left is a slate so blank it hits harder than any bullet she’s ever fired.
“Go fuck yourself,” he says, quiet, indifferent, as he sets his drink steadily on the table and walks out of the bar while everyone at the poker table stares after him.
He’s only made it a few steps before Shepard’s expression to shift to shock, then horror, but it’s too late.
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rabbitcruiser · 6 months
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Monument Valley, AZ (No. 25)
Perhaps nothing better symbolizes the American Southwest than Monument Valley and its iconic scenery, along with its extraordinary collection of buttes. These buttes are located in the present-day Navajo Nation (the largest American Indian reservation). The two most iconic buttes are perhaps East Butte and West Butte. They are free to visit and have long captured the public imagination. They have become ingrained in America's mythic "Wild West" and shape the perception of the Southwest.
The buttes of Monument Valley tower around 1,000 feet above the desert floor below. According to Navajo legend, they are the carcasses of long-defeated monsters. The buttes are made of red sandstone and are isolated hills with steep sides and a flat top. The buttes have been exposed over the eons as the valley has been eroded.
The rocks of the valley are mostly sedimentary, dating from between the Permian to the mid-Jurassic. In total, they represent around 192 million years of Earth's geologic history. There are three main formations making up the monuments - the Organ Rock Formation (formed from the sediments), the De Chelly Formation (formed from ancient dunes of deserts), and the Moenkopi Formation.
The oldest of the formations show that this area was once submerged as a marine environment. Ancient seas came and went throughout the geologic history of Monument Valley. Additionally, there are some locations with Igneous rocks cropping out. These are the plugs of ancient volcanoes.
Source
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dwellordream · 17 days
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“In the last decades of the 19th century, Native Americans continued to be herded off their lands and forced into reservations. There, both men and women tried to maintain their intimate and cooperative relationship with the land, but reservation officials discouraged them from establishing cooperative farms and instead encouraged them to farm individual plots. As a result, Native American women gradually lost control of the land, and their social power within their tribes diminished. The equal relationship between Indian women and men changed and began to resemble the marital relations of the white settlers, in which a husband held economic and social power over his wife.
As their way of life eroded, both Native American women and men were forced to enter into a servile relationship with white settlers. Indian women, and some men, washed clothes and dishes and did other household chores for settlers. Some Indian women worked as nursemaids for white women. As their lands were scooped up by non-Indians eager to wrest a profit from the land, Native Americans’ communal, agrarian way of life vanished--and with it, the Native American women’s prominent tribal role.
…In the 1870s, Hispanic villages remained almost untouched by the growing presence of white, or Anglo, settlers. Some Hispanic men performed seasonal work for Anglo settlers for extra cash, then returned to their villages. This extra income enabled Hispanic farmers to purchase additional livestock or to open a store. By the 1880s, however, an expanding railroad system brought more white settlers to the Southwest. As more Anglos arrived, they forced their cultural values and business practices on Hispanics. They imposed the notion of private property, the use of property for commercial gain rather than for subsistence, and an economy based on money instead of barter.
Most important, they simply took land that had been commonly owned by Hispanic villagers. Lacking sufficient pastureland, villagers could hardly sustain their agrarian way of life on their small individual plots. Gradually, Anglos gained control over the local village economy throughout New Mexico, Arizona, and Colorado. With insufficient land to support themselves, Hispanics had no choice but to work for the new landowners. Hispanic women were no longer able to help support their communal life. They began to work for whites as seamstresses, cooks, launderers, domestics, hotel keepers, and even prostitutes. Like Native American women, they worked as day laborers for someone else instead of as farmers for their own people.
…In the mining camps of Butte, Montana, as well as in the desert outposts of New Mexico, women worked as prostitutes and owners of brothels and saloons. Women became prostitutes for a variety of reasons--to rebel against strict parents, to experience the adventure of a mining camp, or simply to earn a living when no other choice of work was available. Some women prospered and turned their earnings into lucrative real estate investments, but many women felt socially outcast and were at risk of contracting venereal diseases, which were often fatal, or of being physically abused by male customers. Prostitution was a lonely, insecure life spent mostly in dark, shabby hotel rooms.
A shameful chapter in the settling of the West concerns Chinese women who were sold into prostitution. These unsuspecting young women were either kidnapped in China and smuggled into American ports, or they were deceived by agents posing as matchmakers who lured them to America. Either way, they became virtual slaves, forced to service the sexual needs of Chinese immigrant male laborers working on the railroads and ranches of the West. Some found sympathetic support from female missionaries who sheltered them in special group homes and trained them to be wives and mothers. But the missionaries pressured them into entering marriages that were not always happy or compatible, and these unfortunate young Chinese women still had little control over their lives.”
- Harriet Sigerman, “‘I Wish I Had Many Hands”: Toilers on the Land.” in Laborers for Liberty: American Women, 1865-1890
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vergess · 8 months
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One day the 'pronoun pipeline' jokes won't make me feel like I'm the fucking butt of the joke for being a disabled they/them but not today.
Bad enough that nonbinary and GQ identities are always presented as a rest stop in the middle of 'real' transition.
But then the person in the middle always has such obvious depression that gets alleviated by 'truly' becoming male or female.
I'm so.
At least in the original meme the middle person looked happier than the start point, a trait that followups forget about and. I just.
I dunno. It's hard to explain. It erodes me.
To constantly be...
You all understand why it's weird to refer to bi as 'midway from gay to straight' right?
It's the same thing. It's weird to refer to nonbinary identities as midway from cis to Real Binary Trans, too.
I'm so tired.
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thorsenmark · 10 months
Video
Dear, Nature: Thank You! (Bryce Canyon National Park)
flickr
Dear, Nature: Thank You! (Bryce Canyon National Park) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: While at Rainbow Point with a view looking to the north across eroded formations, hoodoos and a wooded landscape in Bryce Canyon National Park. My thoughts on composing this image was to use the high ground I was located on at the overlook and angle my Nikon SLR camera slightly downward, creating a more sweeping view to the nearby hoodoos on the other side of the escarpment. I also wanted to use that same escarpment and hoodoos to kind of frame the image as it started in the image center and worked towards the left and then swung back around to the right, kind of creating a leading line, if you will. All this would in turn raise the horizon higher into the image and perhaps create a sense of grandeur with this national park landscape.
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clusterbuck · 2 years
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just keep swimming
follow-up to cingulomania // yesterday i made eddie watch finding nemo today i’m making him have feelings about it
it’s been a while since eddie’s seen finding nemo, and he’s forgotten how it goes.
not—not the broad strokes: there’s a fish looking for his kid, and he crosses the ocean to find him. he remembers that—there was a time when shannon had first left when christopher wanted to watch nothing but nemo for three weeks straight.
but the details have eroded over the years. the twists and turns of marlin’s journey, the conversations, the little character moments, all the parts that stuck to him like splinters under his skin after that first three-week stretch.
he’s forgotten, too, that marlin thinks nemo dies. he sees nemo floating upside down in the plastic bag and his blood runs cold, his chest constricts and his limbs stiffen and he remembers—
he remembers watching this with christopher all those years ago, pulling his four-year-old son into his laps and pressing his lips to the crown of his head, murmuring promises to keep him safe from harm.
he remembers standing outside the decommissioned VA hospital staring at buck’s hands, muddy and bloody and fidgeting with christopher’s glasses with no christopher in sight.
he remembers, and he remembers, and he remembers, and no matter how many times he blinks all he can see is buck’s tear-streaked face in front of him, and—
“breathe,” buck murmurs, low in his ear, his palm splayed across eddie’s bare stomach below the thin fabric of his shirt. his hand is warm, large, the palm callused from years of carrying hoses and halligans and jaws of life, and eddie breathes in through his nose and counts like frank taught him and focuses on buck’s skin against his, and slowly his living room comes back into focus around him.
“sorry,” he mutters, turning his face into buck’s chest. “i was just—”
“thinking about the tsunami,” buck supplies. “yeah, me too. but look.” he points at the armchair, where christopher is snuggled up under a blanket fast asleep, paying zero attention to the movie. his glasses sit crooked on his face and his half of his hair is flat against his head, but his chest is rising steadily, and soft snuffling noises escape his mouth every time he breathes out.
he’s alive. he’s okay.
“everything is good,” buck whispers. “chris is good. we’re good.”
“i know,” eddie murmurs. he feels around until he finds buck’s hand, the one that isn’t still on his stomach, and threads their fingers together. he squeezes, and buck squeezes back immediately, the same steady, reassuring presence he’s always been.
“i know,” eddie says again, “just—i’d forgotten. that it’s in the movie.”
buck squeezes his hand again.
eddie doesn’t cry when marlin and nemo reunite, although it’s close. he thinks he’s made it through the entire film, until the final scene starts and nemo sets off for school, only to double back and tell marlin he loves him under the guise of forgetting something. eddie sniffles a little then, a few stray tears trailing down his face, and glances over at christopher’s sleeping form.
christopher won’t see it, but eddie mouths i love you anyway.
buck’s lips brush against his temple, and the credits start to roll.
“so,” buck says, keeping his voice low so they don’t wake christopher. “do you want to talk about it?”
“which part?” eddie asks, and buck huffs a laugh.
“i was thinking the part where i touched your butt and you told me to do it again,” he says. “also the part where you got flashbacks from a 2003 pixar movie about a talking fish, if you want, but you can save that for frank if you’d rather.”
eddie sits up, turning so he can face buck. he props his elbow on the backrest of the sofa and looks at buck, his mouth stretching into a soft smile. “the first part is easy,” eddie says, and reaches out to put his hand on buck’s thigh. “i’m in love with you.”
buck grins. “i hoped that was it.” he leans in, careful. “can i—”
eddie doesn’t let him finish the question before he pulls buck in to kiss him.
he’s spent a lot of time thinking about kissing buck, but—if reality is stranger than fiction, it’s much sweeter, too. he couldn’t have imagined the warmth of buck’s lips or the gentle way buck leans into him, the feeling of buck’s hand soft against his cheek or the barely-there scrape of buck’s five o’clock shadow against his skin.
“that means i love you too,” buck murmurs.
“i hoped that was it,” eddie says, and buck snorts.
“do you want to talk about the other part?” buck asks. “i meant what i said about saving it for frank, if that’s what you want.”
eddie hums. “it’s not—it was just a flashback. i don’t think i really need to talk about it.”
“okay,” buck says. “if you’re sure.”
“it’s weird, though,” eddie says. “i think—i think finding nemo made me a better dad.”
buck frowns. “just now?”
“no,” eddie says. “no, chris went through a phase a couple of years ago where we watched it on repeat for weeks. i wasn’t actively thinking about it, but—wait, hold on.” he wriggles around on the couch, turning until he can fit his back against buck’s chest and tug buck’s arm around him.
buck laughs, the reverberations soft against him, and pulls him closer. “you gonna be like this all the time?” he asks, a teasing note in his voice.
“you made me this way,” eddie says, reaching up to press his lips to buck’s jaw. “get used to it.”
“don’t get me wrong,” buck says. “i’m not complaining.”
“good,” eddie says. “but so—chris was around four and i was watching finding nemo over and over again, and i think parts of it just—rubbed off on me, you know? i didn’t think about it like that, but i didn’t want to be like marlin is in the beginning. my whole family was like that, and i could see that chris hated it.”
“you didn’t want to be overprotective,” buck says. “you didn’t want him to think he can’t do things.”
“yeah,” eddie says. “exactly. like—nemo has his little fin, and he’s a hero, right? i wanted chris to be like nemo. to not limit himself.”
buck’s fingertips settle on eddie’s jaw and he turns eddie’s head up to kiss him, soft like a cloud on a summer day. “you did a fantastic job,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against eddie’s chin. “channelling finding nemo might not be the most conventional parenting technique, but it worked. christoper turned out wonderful.”
“he’s still turning out,” eddie says. “you’re helping too.”
“maybe,” buck hums. “but you did most of the work. i’m building on a rock-solid foundation.”
eddie kisses him for that and again for good measure, one more time just because he can and buck’s right there and his mouth is warm and welcoming every time eddie leans in.
“hey,” eddie whispers against buck’s lips. “if i’m marlin, and chris is nemo, does that make you dory?”
“well, it tracks,” buck murmurs, kissing him, then resting his forehead against eddie’s. “i look at you and i’m home.”
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thetransintransformers · 10 months
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Megop Week 2023
June 16th, Day 6
Atonement
His upcoming trial spurs Megatron to visit the grave of an old beloved one. An attempt of clearing his consciousness before he is judged by all of Cybertron.
(takes place in the TFA continuity but loosely, with some more of my own mixed media timeline)
The trial of Megatron was on the horizon. Currently, the warlord leader sat alone, in a hex cell onboard the Magnus’ flagship. A gaudy thing of Autoboy ingenuity, and he proclaimed that with the least amount of respect, he could. Up ahead flying this godforsaken contraption was Optimus Prime. The little dropout who managed to down and arrest him. He would almost be impressed if it wasn't for the sheer prejudice he was about to endure at his trial, and later the stockades. Or perhaps the populace would be so enthralled in their hatred of him, they’d order his execution. Either way, Megatron was far over his defeat, simply watching the stars pass by. Rather, as he was placed infront of the populace during his initial capture, he thought to himself, all the past millions of years of fighting, and planning; it all seemed so empty now that he was placed behind bars. It was always meant to end like this, or dead, but death couldn't be entirely ruled out. Iacon was a long enough way, the autobot team having returned to earth to clean his mess and leaving their leader alone. Megatron’s tired optics closed, speaking up for the first time since he was placed back into his cell. “Would you, as Prime’s grant a dying mech a final request?” Optimus tilted his helm, “You're not slated for execution.” Sentinel just had to butt in, sneering. “Not yet.” Optimus glared and spoke. “After all you’ve done, there’s really no reason for us to take any request of yours.” Ah, still, even at his most merciless, Optimus was never completely without it. He sighed and spoke, “State your request and we’ll consider it.” He laid down the ground rules. Megatron hummed and asked quietly after a few moments of carefully considering his words. “I’d like to visit the Iaconian memorial cemetery.” He tilted his helm. “There is a section dedicated to casualties of the first few years of the war, correct?” He knew he was, but he just wanted the confirmation. If they lied, he would know well enough. Sentinel, of course, had to fulfill that theory. “Any causality that old had been gone, faded out of history, just like you’re going to be.”
Optimus grimaced, “Sentinel.” earning a look of confusion from Sentinel. “What? Im helping.” Optimus rolled his optics and asked, “What business do you have visiting a cemetery you created?” Not exactly correct, at least not in a literal sense. Megatron answered simply. “There’s someone I’d rather like to visit before I am to be put to trial. Call it, a final attempt at forgiveness. Optimus considered his words, Sentinel snickering to himself. “Yeah right,” “Granted.” “What?!” Sentinel erupted, optics wide with confusion, shock, and abject anger, Optimus repeated, more in detail. “Granted. We’ll be at the Iaconian memorial cemetery shortly. You’ll have at most 3 cycles to visit whoever you need to, and that is it.” Despite his ability to even allow Megatron his request, Optimus retained a firm disposition. Megatron was a war criminal after all. Said criminal only smiled, not a smirk, not of a feigned sense of thanks, just a small sad smile. “Thank you, Optimus Prime. The Prime did not respond at that, only focusing on the path ahead, and tuning out Sentinel’s angered remarks. — The flagship landed a few minutes away from the cemetery, not daring to be any closer lest the worn metal and stone of the desolate area be eroded away. The landing bay opened slowly, Sentinel pushing Megatron forward. “Move it!” He barked, being followed by Optimus. Megatron was taken out of his stasis cuffs and allowed to walk more freely beside the two guards armed and ready to strike him down if he attempted anything. Luckily for them, Megatron was far beyond that. Though it was hard to believe, the warlord would not dare attempt something in a cemetery of all places. This place deserved quiet respect, worship not sudden bursts of escape or loud indignant orders.
Sentinel crossed his arms as they crossed the cemetery threshold. “Go on, go see whoever.” He muttered to himself. Infront of them was a large statue dedicated to a fallen autobot General Megatron had slain himself. Sentinel pointed out, as they walked a few feet behind him. “Is that who you wanted to see? To gloat, you sick bast–” Sentinel didn't get to finish, as Optimus elbowed him hard in his abdomen area. “Knock it off Sen.” He whispered harshly. Looking up after their small altercation, Sentinel was rather surprised to see his remarks go unfulfilled; Megatron had walked right passed the statue, in fact, he walked right passed the entirety of the Autobot cemetery. No, he was going to the back, where civilian casualties rested. 
Optimus and Sentientl followed, till they both stopped in their tracks, Megatron clear in their vision. The warlord stood infront of a smaller, elegant grave. Etched into the marble grave was a portrait relief of a young mech and under it, the simplest indicator of just who was here.
Orion Pax
Archivist of Iacon
Nothing more. Nothing less. Not even a death date, as if so much about this “Orion Pax” was lost to history. Sentinel and Optimus certainly knew nothing about him.
But clearly, clearly, this little grave meant the world to Megatron, as he kneeled down gently. “Hello, my love.” He whispered, tracing the edge of the grave with taloned servos as if to cup his beloved's face one last time. “I see you’re in good company. They placed you as a civilian my dear.” He couldn't help but chuckle looking around. “You’d kick their afts for that I know. You contributed so much to be marked a civilian” He sighed, Megatron had taken the blame for that, in hopes Orion would live some normalcy. How wrong he was, to assume Orion wanted normalcy after Megatron. He thought for a moment, “Perhaps, I could get away with being buried as a civilian. . .” he paused as if he was expecting an answer. “I know, I know, ridiculous. But it be nice . . . I could be buried right here.” He placed a servo down gently on a patch of open land next to Orion’s headstone.
Megatron’s laugh died down, smile fading as he traced his servos gently into the imprint of Orion’s name. “I’m . . . I’m heading for trial. All this time, and I’m meant to finally be brought to justice for what I’ve done.” He confessed. “And I’m ashamed.” He let out a pathetic laugh. “For a lot of things, really. For the war, letting it get so out of hand, for losing my own narrative, for letting you get hurt, for . . .” the words hitched in his intake, red optics shining over with the threat of spilling over. He clutched the grave for a moment. “For not visiting you until this very moment.”
Megatron let his breathing grow ragged, servos shaking, reality setting into him all over again. It hurt. He wasn't just talking to his headstone. Not far below him, Orion was laying there. Had been laying there for Primus knew how long. Still covered in the wounds that killed him, the wounds Megatron could have prevented time and time over and never did. Was he restless? Had he been waiting for this moment, that Megatron would visit him? Or had he moved on, thoroughly done and over with the warlord and his destructive downfall? 
Megatron blinked, no longer seeing that accursed headstone, instead seeing familiar bright blue optics. Smiling so gently, as if his horrible influence hadn't ruined his beloved archivist yet. A third blink and those eyes were gone, a fading ghost image from his vision. And a second blink that finally let the tears building in his optics flow down his cheeks. The shaking grew worse, Megatron having no strength, but to lean his helm against the stone, closing his optics. “Im so . . . I’m so sorry Orion. Im so sorry . . .” He repeated, over and over. Not by much, but still, Optimus and Sentinel found themselves some of the only mechs who would ever see Megatron lose face in such a way. Three cycles had gone and passed, but Optimus couldn't find it in himself to cut the moment off. He never, well, no one could have ever expected something so tender, so heartbreaking from Cybertron’s grim reaper like this. All of this? For an archivist, history couldn't care enough to remember. Sentinel was less than moved, rolling his optics as he called. “Alright, times up. We're leaving.” But a quick arm from Optimus stopped him from making any other move. Megatron breathed in, composing himself as he spoke. “One . . . one more request, please. That’s all I ask.” Sentinel was about to object before Optimus stepped infront of him. “What is it?” Sentinel grumbled, “Are you kidding me?” But his words were lost on Megatron’s reply. “My swords. You confiscated them didn't you?” Optimus nodded, “We did.” Megatron hummed, speaking again. “Bring them to me.” A bit authoritative for a captured war criminal, but his words were not from a place of giving orders. “I won't be needing them anymore, I’ll deposit them here.” Sentinel pipped again. “Optimus don't.” He snapped. “I’ve taken enough of watching this sappy scrap, can we just get the prisoner and–”
“Go, Sentinel.” Optimus cut him off. He was never in the mood to hear Sentinel but now, especially now he wasn't about to put up with it. “You know where we kept them locked up.” Sentinel stared in utter disbelief, storming off to the ship.
It gave a few moments of Megatron and Optimus alone. Optimus made no move to get closer, but still, he found himself a little more open to speaking. “. . . Who was he?”
Megatron stayed quiet as if trying to piece together the best answer to provide. “Everything to me.” A bit dramatic, so he gave him a more simple answer. “Orion Pax, an Iaconion archivist. We grew close when I was still a gladiator before any mention of Decepticons came to my mind. I loved him.” He turned back to the grave, whispering more softly. “I love you.” leaning close to place a gentle kiss against the relief. Optimus couldn't help but feel his spark ache at the display. Sickening almost. He wouldn't have pity for Megatron. He shouldn't, couldn't. After everything? One little display of care towards a grave wasn't going to change that. It wasn't.
In the distance, he could see Sentinel approaching, a large cloth in his arms, wrapping around the twin swords Megatron was so infamous. It hit Optimus at that point, if he was so sure he wouldn't feel pity for Megatron. Then why had Optimus allowed his last rites to go on for this long? Sentinel stood there, a low glare cast at Optimus as he dumped the swords on the ground next to Megatron, not a single shred of decency in him. Megatron grabbed onto the swords, one in each hand. The two primes only watched, it was a lie to not assume the worst. Megatron already gripping onto the Magnus’ hammer, while Sentinel laid a hand against his shield.
Megatron stood up, swinging both swords before stabbing them down into the ground, one on either side of the Archivist’s grave. He let go of the handles, kneeling back down. “To protect you, in the next life. The way they should have in this one, Orion.” He let out another shaky breath, tracing the grave again.
Optimus cleared his throat, loosening his grip as the moment came to an end. He spoke up. “Megatron. Time to go. Now.” He tried sounding firm, but Primus, this was too much to bare. Megatron only nodded, turning to face the grave one last time. “It’s too kind to assume I will see you again in the well of all sparks. He leaned close to kiss the grave a final time. “Goodbye Orion.”
After that, he stood up straight and strong despite his betrayal of emotions. He turned wordlessly, once more being escorted out first by Sentinel. “Yeah yeah, time to face the music.” Optimus walked behind them once more, casting one last glimpse at the grave and relief, before following them out back to the flagship and off to Iacon.
Optimus was meant to keep a certain bias during the trial so Megatron could be defeated entirely, once and for all. But casting a glance at the warframe in the cell, he felt that spark ache again. Optimus was worried he couldn't keep that unbias anymore as he stood and walked over to the cell. He leaned against it, speaking idly. “. . . Would you tell me more about Orion Pax? You know, something of an effort to preserve more names from the war.”
Megatron felt a sad tired smile pull at the corner of his lips. “Ofcourse.”
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whilereadingandwalking · 10 months
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My take-a-selfie-every-day goal actually is eroding at my need to feel perfect in photos. Not much, but a little bit. It has helped, and that’s all I really wanted, is to encourage myself to see and appreciate myself on days where I’m butt-tired and in pajamas, not just the days I’m dressed up and feeling cute.
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gimletagain · 1 year
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We need a complete analysis from you about this!!!!
honestly I don’t have much to contribute. I was right in that film content doesn’t get released without any advanced marketing, and now we have that advanced marketing in the form of a trailer. It might be a short marketing blitz or it might be a longer one. It was my bad for not considering a very short blitz that would still make December 8 feasible. It’s interesting that Netflix is still playing coy about the release date though.
The reason why having a whole publicity spree leading up to a release date is important for filmed content bc viewership is a fixed commodity. Meaning, every single streaming company and tv and movie studio is fighting for the fixed amount of time that you can sit on your butt and watch something. Films are not like music or podcasts, you can’t watch it driving, or cleaning the dishes, or even while doing most forms of exercising. Your time to actually watch something is continually eroded - by life, the internet, new media like TikTok and social media - and is really valuable to these companies. They know they need to make an effort to get you to commit and not lose you to their competitors.
some other thoughts-
It’s … not good. The lack of advanced buzz from entertainment writers means that no press outlet got a copy of it to review. So we are dealing with just purely fluff, shock and awe, reality tv content - not exactly quality and not anything that can win anyone awards. Certainly “keeping up with the ex minor royals” and not a “historic love story.” Celeb driven documentaries can and DO get highbrow treatment - like RDJr’s Sr, which is coming out this month. Selena Gomez’s documentary was screened in advance by Rolling Stone and referenced during her interview with them. And, we got leaks this summer saying it screened very poorly with test audiences.
There’s not much content? I refuse to actually watch the actual trailer but it looks like it’s nearly all the same black and white cheesy photographs she likes so much, and some lame shots of them lounging around their house either crying or making out with each other (which honestly, is so cringe - who is that supposed to appeal to?!!) Someone on IG said they can’t believe that Netflix paid for a slideshow of filtered iPhoto selfies. If they really have interesting footage from RF events, they would’ve teased it. Instead we have an AP photo of Kate looking as mean as possible.
with those two things in mind, it makes sense that Netflix has this squarely bucketed as a sugar or a hate watch, so they’ll do what they can to market it to the limited audience that gets all worked up over them on both sides. They know what they’re doing, so the timing is good. We got the RF accused of racism, W+C in Boston, and all of the things that our little corner of the internet pays attention to. Perfect marketing moment. Maybe they’re coy about the release date bc they’re still trying to see how much buzz they get in December before they commit, and might hold off for some of the other moments like Spare or the Coronation.
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