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#and horrifically closed off person
lucyvaleheart · 1 month
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tezerenotameiki · 2 years
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orcelito · 1 year
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well the good news is im gonna look the part of someone who hasnt been to class in several weeks
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serkonans · 1 year
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i just abruptly remembered that my longest and deepest romantic relationship began because i accidentally dmed a Complete stranger a screenshot of my professor saying i was a future novel prize laureate that i followed up with a kpop joke about jin from bts
and then when i realized and tried to joke and deflect, it turned into like an hour of them sending me homemade memes of barry from the bee movie wearing parachute pants. and then we dated for three years
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abyssalpriest · 6 months
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This gets into shit I can't talk about but it fascinates me seeing the leap from grace and gentleness when humans start talking about Lev's rulership and specific like.............. Ugh god how to word that. A specific time and place when he was involved in the ruling of a certain group of spirits humans are connected to like. Talking about Ahi, who is a more permanent split-off of Lev's energy (like how I said Lev takes multiple bodies I guess) as Vritra where humans are like fucking terrified of him... Hearing about Triton I'm like no yeah actually this DOES sound like you, it sounds like when humans connect to you ruling your plane and doing your off plane stuff instead of you interacting with humans as Father Of Humanity
........... Actually lmfao. I've just metaphorically drawn some random lines on a chalkboard as I spoke and I stand back and look and it's a symbol I recognise very well.
#Ahhhhh almost like talking about Vritra is talking about when Lev and Ahi joined together and flooded a place....#I wonder why Triton half poseidon half Amphitrite would sound like the Greek version of this recollection of Lev from our species'#collective consciousness. Or like. Off plane vision so to speak.#Oh my fucking god. Especially because I was looking at the shell thing like ''oh yeah that sounds exactly like how the#Kings especially Indra/Zeus and Lev are associated with bomb and tornado sirens and I associate the ''trumpets'' at the end of the#world being another manifestation of this horrific fucking sound that heralds when they stop playing games with civilisations#and enter it as themselves''#The fucking.... The event that I interpret Vritra's myth as retelling was an End Of The World. OH MAN AND WAR HORNS FUCK#Also god them saying triton is 'cerulean' or rides a 'cerulean' steed lmfao oh you mean like the day sky. That cerulean?#But no this is like. Multiple people use every damn name in existence for any god and I'm not involved in Greek stuff anymore bc like#IDK if I can't put my entire ass into learning all about a name I'm not gonna work w someone under it and I'd need to actually work#w Triton to understand but like god fuckin damn that answered questions about Lev's relation to Poseidon and being him...#And also add that to my understanding of humans and the End Of The World that happened close to us so that#it's waves are still felt on our shores.... Where. I fucking. Thought that Ahi (who often goes around as a really really long fish-like#creature) joined with Lev very literally and it's like. Hmm. I'm sure it's also just... Talking about them in general as one person but fuck#ramblings //
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bejeweledblondie · 7 months
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Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcannons
A/N: these are loosely inspired from real life experiences I’ve had living on a military base, these men have a on & off switch it’s crazy
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Warnings: NSFW
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• Simon first saw you while he was in the States for a training exercise, he was out at one of the local bars with some of the other soldiers he was with
• Soap had actually asked for your number first & since he was so intoxicated you turned him down
• Simon apologized for Soap & that’s how you met
• he did have a heart attack when he found out there was a bit of a age gap between you two but quickly got over it when he realized how mature you were
• it was a long distance relationship at first (from personal experience it sucks in the beginning)
• there were times when he couldn’t talk due to the risk of potentially exposing his teams location so you had to write letters every now & then
• you cried constantly whenever you saw some horrific news in the paper about what was going on overseas, the anxiety was awful
• but when he returned the reunions were euphoric
• you have a bottle of his cologne & aftershave so you can always feel close to him
• and you’d spray your perfume on the letters you sent so he couldn’t always smell the paper when he was missing you
• it took him sometime to open up to you about what had happened to him in his past, & your respected that
• when he first met your family, he was shocked by all the support he had received from them
• he asked your parents to marry you the first time he met them & showed them the ring too (ofc they said yes)
• he proposed to you in private after a nice dinner, he got choked up during the proposal
• your dad specifically was elated, he got to brag at how bad ass his son in law is
• your mom if she’s a teacher, had her entire class send cards, candy, anything they’d need in care packages Soap nearly cried when he opened the sweetest letter from a little girl (this actually happened irl my mom’s class did this & one guy got really choked up)
• Simon always would be your fiercest protector
• since he’s like an freakin tree he will guide your head with his bear paw of a hand in crowds
•he CANNOT sit with his back facing the door it stresses him out
•this man is strapped 24/7 whether that be a knife, bear spray etc. he’s ready
•he has a trauma kit in his car because “you never know”
•Simon is 1000% one of those apocalypse preppers you have freeze dried food, medicine, water, etc. he’s always on edge
• he sleeps with a damn rifle next to y’all’s bed
• you have a whole security system too
• your guy’s apartment is impeccable like you could eat off of the floor
• hell your guy’s bed has damn hospital corners
• Simon adopted a cat so you don’t feel as lonely when he’s deployed
• He’s your chonky boy & you do send plenty of photos to Simon when he’s deployed
• Gaz & Soap tease him about him living his “cat dad” life
• you start trying for a baby two years into your marriage
• Simon does fall victim to the “curse of the infantry” (which is not a negative thing btw it’s a running joke that infantry soldiers have all daughters) he makes girls
• he was deployed during your pregnancy & was worried sick he nearly missed the birth of your daughter
• that little girl is the most well protected baby in the whole world, the Task Force gifted him not just baby stuff but damn security for the nursery
• He watches your baby from his phone in the nursery on deployment, he was silently crying once when he was watching you sing a lullaby to your baby girl
•Price had to comfort him father to father
•In reality Simon has a very hard cold exterior at work for the sake of keeping his mental health for the profession he’s in but deep down he’s always held a soft spot & your relationship just brings it out
✨NSFW ✨
• there is a big size difference between you two & it drives him insane
• the first time y’all had together he didn’t want to break you in half
• when he returns from deployment y’all go at it like rabbits for multiple rounds, your poor pussy was so sore afterwards
• has a massive corruption & daddy kink
• he’s an ass man I don’t make the rules here so any position where your ass if the focal point is his favorite
• y’all have made so many sex tapes for him when he’s deployed, he has a whole folder on his phone & jerks off to them in the bathroom or the porta potty (it’s a canon event, trust me) to them
• he lets your cockwarm him constantly when you’re on the couch, when he’s working, hell y’all had even fallen asleep like that
• I know people say he has a Prince Albert piercing but alas per army regulation that is safety risk I think it’s more likely he’d use a cock ring on you
• during a military ball you two snuck off & fucked in a supply closet
• he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room after seeing you in your gown, it was red his favorite color
• and he just looked so fucking good in his dress uniform, that was the night you totally conceived your baby girl
• he groans into your ear when he cums & he’ll use his body to just eclipse yours
• “one more baby girl” & “c’mon pretty girl use your words tell me what you want”
• is a sucker for babydoll lingerie it brings your innocence & triggers his corruption kink
• moral of the story Simon Riley fucks
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bettsfic · 2 years
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today is my birthday! i’m 33 today and i have done an ungodly amount of stupid shit in my life that honestly probably should have gotten me killed. so here are 33 hard-won things i’ve learned that i wish someone had told me sooner.
whenever you buy an object, you are going to own that object for your entire life unless you make the conscious decision to throw it away or give it a new home. maybe other people don’t struggle with this as much as i do, but i’ve grown to become a little exhausted by finding a thing and realizing i don’t want it anymore, but i don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything with it. signed, a woman with a packed 10x10 storage unit who is now extremely hesitant to buy new things.
food, and by that i mean good food (and by that i don’t necessarily mean healthy food, but food of good quality that you love), is necessary to live, and buying it, preparing it, and eating it is not a chore. the sooner you accept this and make food a priority in your life, the healthier you’ll be. 
speaking of food, not everything you buy should be the cheapest version of it. personally i’ve found it’s always worth it to splurge on good olive oil, butter, and canned tomatoes. for years i thought i was an awful cook because i was cooking with cheap, disgusting olive oil that made my food taste like shit.
speaking of food part 2, i can’t BELIEVE how long this took me to figure out, but mise en place is the real real. get your shit out and organized and prepped *before* you start cooking, even if it makes things take longer. and yes, it is always worth it to do the dishes as you go, which pisses me off.
when i was teaching myself how to cook and feeling daunted about it, the best advice i ever got was to aim to learn 15 recipes and then put them in rotation.
this is the most horrific and awful truth i have forced myself to accept: there may come a day you can no longer digest your favorite foods, and you will either have to stop eating them, or remain very close to a toilet. i’m sorry.
other people are always going to misperceive you and misunderstand you, sometimes willfully. other people’s opinions of you don’t actually have anything to do with you. they’re not your business, and you don’t have to worry about it or change yourself.
when innocuous or neutral things make you irrationally angry or upset, step back, realize you’re having a big reaction, and then when you’re ready, pay very close attention to the thing that upset you, because you’re about to learn something important about yourself.
a pill sorter can save your life. i don’t know how i managed my meds without one.
sometimes college is about learning stuff, and not about becoming something.
no matter how many perfectionist tendencies you have, it’s worth it to remind yourself that no matter how much of a mess you actually are, you deserve to be loved.
if you’re always forgetting to do important but tedious things, set an alarm and set aside one hour of each week, not to do the important tedious things, but to assess what needs to be done, and *schedule* the important tedious things for the following week. this literally changed my life.
during that hour, make a meal plan too. the point of doing this is condense the time in which you’re making decisions (what to do, what to eat, etc) so you don’t have to burden yourself with them throughout the week. decision fatigue is real. any way you can alleviate that is a good thing.
learn the difference between aggressive, passive, passive-aggressive, and assertive behavior. recognize when you’re being one of the first three, re-assess and aim for being assertive, even if it’s hard.
you can tell you’ve processed trauma, not when the traumatic thing stops upsetting you to think about, but when the traumatic thing takes up the same size in your brain as all your other memories.
if you’re one of those people who never seems to finish projects or follow through with things, there’s a chance you may just grow out of it naturally. until then, follow your interests and don’t feel bad about putting down a hobby to pick up another.
if you love stickers but have sticker anxiety, buy vinyl stickers. you can re-stick them.
there are only a few careers i can think of that you have to commit to early in life because getting the undergraduate credentials is a pain in the ass (teachers, doctors, and engineers, from my research). nearly everything else you can switch to later, which takes a LOT of pressure off having to figure out what you want to do with your life.
people say there’s no money in becoming an artist, writer, musician, etc. actually there’s a ton of money in all of those things, it’s just in the stuff other people want you to make and never what you want to make. it’s still worth it to develop the creative skill and not force yourself into business school because it’s more “practical” or whatever. 
sleep when you’re tired. SLEEP WHEN YOU’RE TIRED. don’t beat yourself up about it, don’t tell yourself you shouldn’t be tired or that you’ve already slept too much, just take a fucking nap. you would never say “hm i’ve already had enough water today, therefore i should not be thirsty” so don’t treat sleep the same way.
when you build a piece of furniture from target or ikea or whatever, the first thing you should do is count all the little screws and things to make sure everything’s there that should be. it sucks to get halfway into putting something together only to find there’s a piece missing and you have to go buy it.
learn to travel by yourself, go out to eat by yourself, see a movie by yourself. in my early 20s i was scared to do these things, but i do them so often now i don’t even think about it. it’s the most fulfilling skill i’ve ever learned.
adding to the above, if you’re a people-pleaser, being alone is especially important, because you’ve probably developed the habit of making the people you’re with more comfortable and happy than yourself, and you’re missing a lot of the beautiful and interesting things around you. when you’re by yourself, you can focus on what *you* want without guilt. 
sometimes you’ll want to break things off with a friend for reasons that are no one’s fault, and you don’t want it to be volatile or make a big thing of it, in which case the goal is to simply fade out of their life. it is okay to let people go.
shame is useless. get rid of it.
no matter how much of yourself you put into your art (or writing, or music, or whatever), when people criticize it, they are not criticizing you. they are having a reaction colored by their own tastes and perspectives. their opinion of your work has nothing to do with you. you don’t have to take everyone’s feedback. in fact you don’t have to take anyone’s feedback. the other side to this coin unfortunately is that compliments don’t have anything to do with you either. it’s good to accept this because it means you’ll stop seeking validation from other people and won’t let anyone else’s perspectives impact your work. anything nice anyone says about your work is merely a bonus to an already good thing.
if you’re an artist of any kind, take one day a year to look up opportunities like grants, funding, residencies, workshops, whatever. put the due dates of all of them on a calendar for the year following and get into the habit of applying for stuff. getting rejected sucks, application fees suck, but in all the years i’ve been doing this, it has always, always been worth it. these things give you a chance not only to help fund and support what you’re passionate about, but they force you to take your own work seriously, and that is something that’s absolutely necessary in order to be successful.
you must become your own greatest advocate. in all respects--in health, in love, in happiness, in freedom, you must. no one will ever fight as hard for you as you will. this in turn will give you the strength and motivation to help others fight for themselves too. the only way the world will ever get better is if every person on this planet learns to see themselves as equals to everyone around them.
brag about yourself as often as you can. for one, people develop their perceptions of you based on how you treat yourself and speak about yourself. but for two, it’s the fastest way to figure out which people to keep in your life, because they’re the ones who are going “oh hell yeah, you’re awesome.” 
be the person other people want to brag to.
at some point in your life, someone is going to hurt you, and it’s going to be willful and intentional. it is not worth it to waste brain space figuring out why they did it or why you think you deserved it. all you have to do is let yourself feel that pain, acknowledge it, and try to move on.
no matter how bad off you think you are, recovery is possible. the first and hardest step is to learn you’re worth the time and effort it takes to recover from the awful things that have happened to you.
developing an expertise does not mean you’re getting objectively better at something. becoming an expert is only the process of seeing your mistakes and having the patience to sit in the discomfort of not knowing how to fix them.    
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Me: I am very layered; top secret and mysterious. I'm quite a closed person.
Also me, realising that I have a grand total of zero (0) secrets that only I know:
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lunartulips · 3 months
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𝐴𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝐴𝑆 𝐴 𝐵𝑂𝑌𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐷 { 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 }
Very loving lover. To say the least. Probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him since he’s been in hell
Alastor would greet you in the morning with a big smile
“Good morning! It’s absolutely deadly in hell isn’t it?” Or if you walk in and see him eating then he’ll offer you a plate. Even if it’s a dead deer.
“You look well-rested, care for some deer?”
Since he’s the radio demon and feared by many he’ll make sure that you’re protected at all cost. Even bribing Husker to watch over you when he can’t, with booze of course
“Do take care of them I’ll be stepping out for a moment”
“Yeah yeah, got it now go”
Compliments I feel are a must. He’ll say compliments during the day or randomly. Smiling and looking straight at you when he does.
“My, don’t you look breathtaking today-!”
Flirting, probably would or won’t. When he does he’ll be a gentleman when he speaks. Holding your hand and adding a gentle kiss when he’s done, very like him. In a low tone voice to feel flirtatious
“My my, what a darling demon we have here~”
“Acting shy now? How adorable”
Alastor would be very protective and wouldn’t hesitate to tear a few limps off to protect you. Since he’s so gruesome with handling ‘enemies’ he’ll probably distract you from seeing such things with your own eyes. Or hold you close to his chest as he unleashed his wrath on another
“Hm? Oh don’t worry at all-! I’m simply ℒℰᎯᏉℐℕᎶ Ꭿ ℳℰЅЅᎯᎶℰ….”
“Don’t worry, how about some dinner hm? I’ll let you wait inside-!”
Very cute nicknames for you. Like darling, dearest, and honey. Alastor will call out to you using those names to find you, even in front of everyone, had no shame or embarrassment about it
Even outside of the hotel when he takes walks
“Ah-! There you are darling-!”
Oh boy….when this demon is jealous it’s every sinner for themselves. With you he’ll do his best to hold back so he wouldn’t scare or hurt you. Of course everyone else from the hotel will be staring and just watch. Charlie would probably try to calm him down before more heads roll. But Angel Dust would probably edge him on.
“Uh, Alastor? Please calm yourself please?”
“No! Keep going! So them who Y/N’s lover!”
There’ll be lots of blood and destruction when he’s jealous but of course he’ll won’t immediately go to violence when he’s jealous. Alastor can also stay close to you and place a protective hand either on your shoulder or around your waist. And would just give them eyes of death to the demon or person who dares talk to you in front of him
Dates would be very causal. Either meat dinners or hanging out with him listening to the radio
Love Language would be Quality time <3
Walks around the city in the wrath ring or joining him in his recoding studio when he’s on the air. When you work in the Hazbin Hotel he’ll pop in to checkup on you. And, when needed, he’ll help you in any way he can. He’ll make sure that you to have lots of time together both during work hours and when you clock out.
“You look like your struggling with this, allow me my dear-!”
Holding hands will be included with this relationship, along with him smiling a lot both at you and in general. Like the gentlemen he is he’ll make sure that your smiling with him.
“You’re never fully dressed without a smile~”
Alastor would be a very interesting demon to date with. Protective and old fashioned. Always smiling and would hum songs to you when you’re stress
Not only that. He’ll make sure you will avoid the three V’s/Vees. Especially Vox. If that does happen or you accidentally cross paths make sure you have a pair of sunglasses and stay behind a strong building before things get very ugly well quick unless you want to see such horrific scenes
But if that doesn’t happen then all things should be float
𝐴𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝐴𝑆 𝐴 𝐵𝑂𝑌𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐷 { 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 }
written by Lunartulips ☾ & ✿
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etz-ashashiyot · 15 days
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I know I'm gonna regret posting this, but I just can't not say something: I'm so sick of people who are actively contributing to the ongoing oppression of and violence against Palestinians calling themselves "pro-Palestinian."
In the same way that so many people in the anti-abortion movement are actually pro forced birth rather than pro-child, there are a lot of you who aren't pro-Palestinian, you're just violently antisemitic or in it for yourselves.
If you aren't:
Also angry with the other countries that abuse their Palestinian populations, refuse them citizenship, keep them in displaced person camps under horrific conditions, and/or close their borders entirely to them;
In support of genuine grassroots movements that aim to create some kind of stability, peace, and safety through diplomatic relationships and community building, because that's ""normalization"";
Willing to condemn antisemitism in the diaspora, which helps fuels right-wing rhetoric in Israel;
Willing to shut down lies, propaganda, and disinformation even if it "supports" Palestinians in theory, because lying repeatedly associates the Palestinian movement with lying and makes it harder for survivors to tell their actual stories and be believed outside of the far left movements (and also the truth is bad enough - there's no need to lie);
Willing to focus on practical problem solving over political posturing, especially when it will save Palestinian lives;
Willing to condemn Hamas, which started this most recent disaster, steals aid meant for civilians, uses civilians as human shields, and has been torturing dissenters for years;
Willing to work with Israeli leftists who hate their current government and want peace and full equality for Arab Israelis and their Palestinian neighbors, and also have the best shot at making that change happen; and/or,
Willing to learn about Palestinians as living human beings and value their lives over using them as a political cudgel, whatever that looks like on the ground;
.............then maybe you're more interested in looking radical and jerking off to some fantastical version of The Revolution, and/or hurting Jews than you are in promoting peace, safety, dignity, and self-determination for Palestinians.
Like seriously with "friends" like these, do they even need enemies??
Anyway you should call out the Israeli government for its very real abuses of Palestinians and nothing in this post should be construed otherwise. But if you genuinely care and aren't just in it for internet cool points or leftist cred or feeding your Jew-hate boner or whatever, you gotta prioritize solutions that have a realistic shot at short-term relief and long-term possibility over whatever fits some idealistic goal that will only ever end with more dead Palestinians.
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thepunkmuppet · 1 year
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THIS POST CONTAINS GOTG3 SPOILERS, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
so it was only through this movie that I realised how incredible nebula and rocket’s relationship really is, or rather could be if they had more screen time.
they have the exact same backstory. horrific and violent experiments were performed on them both by galactic assholes with god complexes, and obviously they have both been recovering and running from that their entire lives.
but also, their personalities are just super similar - closed off, rude, no-nonsense, angry, etc. and that means that they can relate to each other in the same way as each other. what I mean is, they have spent their lives suffering in silence, and are not the type of characters to have long heart to hearts and open up to those around them. but that’s okay, because they can suffer in silence together. they can wallow in their pain together. no words required, just pure understanding.
and the fact that they were the only main guardians left during the blip?? are we just going to overlook how close they would have gotten?? a close knit family unit reduced to two people?? literally the only people each other had left?? LIKE???
UGH and the fact that she gets him bucky’s arm for christmas. it was on a different planet. she had never celebrated or even heard of christmas before. but it was THAT important to her to give it to him?? and the looks on their faces!!?!? YES
and just that scene where nebula hears his voice again and just sobs. and mantis (a literal empath) looks at her and says to rocket, “we love you and we appreciate you and we are so happy you’re okay because you are our best friend.” because nebula, just like rocket, isn’t the kind of person who would feel able to say that herself. but actions and reactions speak more than words, and those tears spoke VOLUMES of the value nebula places in her friendship with rocket and it just makes me so feral
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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could you do Alastor and Lucifer with an Living! Adams Family! Reader?
A/N duh. this idea was so fun!! It's giving Beetlejuice in the best way
I Myself am Strange and Unusual (Alastor x Reader x Lucifer)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Mention of suicide in reference to Dante's Inferno. Bones. Art made from bones.
Word Count: 1,655
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Y/n sat before the summoning circle as she lit the las candle. It was a Friday and she was bored, what else was she supposed to be doing besides following some probably fake spell she found in a book she'd thrifted? She took after her mother in that regard but had wound up with her fathers rather flamboyant personality.
"Now, what are those words..." she mumbled to herself, turning the odd slip of paper the spell had been written on over.
Her eyes glazed over them and she cleared her throat.
"Spirits from beyond, I call you Lucifer, who first cursed us, I call you to me. Lucifer, who commands the legions of the dead, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Lucifer, wicked, heartless beast, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you!"
Y/n looked up from the paper in excitement, a look which quickly dimmed as absolutely nothing happened before her eyes. She turned back to the paper, squinting to read the cramped letters.
"Okay, wait. Theres another name here. Uh, spirits from beyond, I call you. Alastor, keeper of the dark defeat, I call you to me. Alastor, demonic overlord, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Alastor, both hunter and hunted, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you."
Again, her work failed to yield any results. Y/n stayed seated for a moment, waiting. When it was clear to her that the spell had not in fact done it's job, she sighed and got to her feet.
"Well that was a waste of a half hour."
She turned on the lights before leaning forward and grabbing the nearest candle. With a short breath of air, she blew it out only, somehow, all the candles seemed to go out as she did this, even the scented one on the shelf that hadn't been involved in the ritual.
"Oh there is no way." Y/n smiled, anticipation bubbling in her chest, "There is literally no way!"
The lights began to flicker as she placed the candle she was holding on the desk. The minute it hit the table's surface, the room fell into a short spell of darkness. As the lights flickered back on, Y/n saw two men standing in the center of the circle.
Well, men was a strong word. They were both humanoid in shape but, neither really looked like people. They looked around the room in shock, taking in every detail before their eyes landed on each other.
The taller of the two demons, the one all in red and holding an old fashioned looking microphone, widened his already close to horrific smile. The smaller one, dressed in all white, narrowed his eyes.
"You." the man in white sighed, crossing his arms, "Of course I had to get summoned with you."
"There is literally no way." Y/n exclaimed, cutting off the red demon as he opened his mouth to speak.
Both men turned to Y/n, in her black dress with her wide excited eyes.
"Ah." the red demon hummed, his voice coming out like radio static as he straightened his jacket, "You must be the one who summoned us. I am Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Yes, quite the pleasure."
Y/n turned her gaze to the demon in white.
"So that means you must be Lucifer. It is such an honor to meet you."
"Huh." Lucifer smiled slightly, "Now that's more like it. Wait, you're not one of those freaks, are you?"
"Freaks?" Y/n asked, her head cocked slightly to the side and her brow furrowed.
"One of those oh! You brought evil to the world! You're my idol people." Lucifer imitated animatedly.
Alastor shot him an irritated look as Y/n's eyes widened and she shook her head.
"No no no! They have it all wrong. You didn't bring evil, you gave us the greatest gift of all. You have us free will, self determination. The ability to be exactly who we are and want to be."
Lucifer turned to Alastor, crossing his arms over his chest with a self satisfied smile.
"Oh I like her. Pretty and she knows her stuff?"
Y/n blushed slightly, looking away. She clasped her hands behind her back. Alastor didn't like that.
"Yes, quite the charming girl indeed." he hummed through gritted teeth, meeting Y/n's eyes.
"And Alastor..." she put a finger to her lip in thought, "Alastor... I am really sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I don't think I have ever heard of you before."
His eye twitched and Lucifer's grin widened.
"Well, my dear, I just so happen to be one of the most powerful overlords in all the rings of Hell."
"Huh. Neat."
"So, what have you called us here to do?" Lucifer asked amiably.
"Oh, well, I hadn't really though that far. Um..." she looked around the space of her room.
There wasn't anything she really wanted. Y/n had a comfortable life, a loving family. Anyone she wanted revenge on she was more than capable of taking care of on her own. Mostly, she was just bored.
Nodding her head once, she walked up to the edge of the summoning circle and promptly sat down. Her legs crossed, she adjusted the long skirt of her dress over her knees.
"Let's just chat."
Alastor and Lucifer exchanged a confused look.
"You are going to have to ask us for something, my dear." Alastor hummed pleasantly, "Otherwise we wont be able to go home. That's how this little game works, after all."
"So, I am asking you to chat. Do you guys want any drinks or something?"
With a shrug to Alastor, Lucifer sat down on the floor with his legs crossed as well. With a reluctant sigh, Alastor followed suit.
"So, what is Hell like?" Y/n asked eagerly, "Is it dark and full of bugs? It can't really be all fire and lava pits like all the art says. I mean, Dante's version of Hell makes more sense than that. Oh my gosh, is there a suicide forest? I always loved that idea, that they turn into trees. That they get the most peaceful of the options, is it real?"
"Well, there are trees." Lucifer began carefully.
"But they are not made of people's souls. No, it's actually rather close to this world down below." Alastor finished for him.
"Really? You guys have like jobs and stuff?"
"Some of us do. I am actually currently involved in a project helping to rehabilitate sinners. 'Check out of Hell and into Heaven,' that's the whole idea of the thing."
"Like you actually believe in that." Lucifer scoffed and Alastor raised a hand to his chest in false ofence.
"You... are you questioning my motives?"
"Not cool man." Y/n shook her head, "That sounds like a pretty cool project, I didn't even know something like that was possible."
Before Alastor could reply, Lucifer cut in.
"It is my daughter's project, and we aren't actually sure its possible yet."
"You have a daughter!? Is she the antichrist?"
"We-"
"Charlie Morningstar is her name." Alastor interrupted Lucifer, "And she is quite powerful. Talented too."
Lucifer turned to Alastor, glaring at him.
"Don't start this shit again."
"It's not my fault I've been there for her more than you have."
"It's more complicated than that."
"Sure it is."
At a sudden peal of bell like laughter from Y/n, the demons stopped their bickering and turned to her. She held a hand over her mouth as she tried to calm herself.
"Are you guys always like this?"
Lucifer and Alastor exchanged another look before nodding. Y/n lowered her hand, still smiling brightly.
"Maybe I'll ask you to stick around."
"You... aren't like a lot of other humans I've met in my time." Lucifer admitted.
"Strange and unusual."
"What?" Lucifer asked.
Y/n shrugged.
"That's how most people describe me. Strange and unusual. Or wonderously strange, if you ask my dad."
"Well, there is nothing wrong with that." Alastor hummed, "Strange and unusual is the best way to be. Keeps things interesting."
"Oh, no. I know. I didn't mean it in like a sob-story way. Just like, that's how I am. I don't know."
"Not a lot of people summon us. Especially not just to chat." Lucifer stated and Y/n smiled.
"What can I say, I was bored."
"You summoned us because you were bored?" Alastor repeated, his brow furrowed.
"Yeah. My friends were all busy and I love my parents but I do not love being around them on their Friday date nights let me tell you. The dancing is cute but the sword fighting when some old flame of my mother's shows up as they do every couple months? Terribile. Nothing blocks out the clang of steel against steel."
"Sounds like you come from a rather interesting family." Lucifer noted.
"Strange and unusual. I don't come from nowhere."
"Well, aren't you a gem in this dull world." Alastor mused and Y/n looked away, her cheeks slightly flushed again.
"I don't know about that, but I certainly try. Oh! Do you guys like bones? I don't know, is that a dumb question? Was it rude? Racist? Wait. Hell-cist? No that feels wrong too."
Lucifer chuckled slightly.
"Why do you ask?"
"I have a pretty big selection. Mostly deer bones."
Alastor's ears twitched.
"Deer bones?"
"Yeah." she nodded, "We eat a lot of venison at home and ever since I was a kid, my dad let me keep the bones to do projects with and the like. I have a lovely wind chime I made using parts of a spine but, sadly, its at my parents house."
"Strange and unusual." Alastor hummed.
"Strange and unusual." Y/n nodded.
----
A/N I was lowkey not sure how to end this one, I am sorry about that. I hope you liked it!!
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abtrusion · 1 month
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Tranny Tango
There's a man on the sidewalk, looking over, then up to see me walking past. He stops in his tracks and stutters back and forth, his read || reaction to me flickering between upstart woman // taller man || hold ground // make space, glitching him in place. When I step off the sidewalk and into the grass, he sheepishly passes me by without a word.
I'm interested in the everyday glitches, the double-takes, the way "everybody is just a little bit disgusted by you," what Susan Stryker calls 'monstrosity' and more than that, the casual experience of being a gaping hole in the gendered world. Stryker attributes this monstrosity to the idea that medical transsexuality, more than any other form of transgenderism, "represents the prospect of destabilizing the foundational presupposition of fixed genders." She takes anti-trans feminists at their word, assuming that their hate stems from some abstract gender trouble that transsexuals pose to female spaces, and her solution is a near-complete identification with that trouble. We can do better. This monstrosity, this glitching, is not just a downstream consequence of spectacular interruptions to some abstract 'fixed genders.' It is certainly not dependent on some unique threat posed by medicalization. It exists through instinctive disgust and constant little glitches in the social infrastructure that is gender, an uneasy response to an uncanny bricolage of the building blocks of gendered life.
Escaping the Cisgender Gaze
The classic trans encounter is to see a visibly transfeminine person out on the street, or as an escort, or in some carefully-curated performance piece, and to realize that gender is a lie. This is part of the utility of transmisogyny, which renders people both constantly accessible and utterly exemplary, and in turn this casts transmisogyny itself as spectacular exclusion instead of a slow social and economic death that sometimes spikes, particularly with multiply marginalized subjects, into horrific violence.
This singularization of transfeminine life and oppression (particularly with trans women of color) through suicide and murder statistics renders both trans life and pain spectacular and implicitly places one as a 'natural' consequence of the other. We need to seriously inspect the many interactions between non-passing transfem people and cis people which do not end with one of them dead. One way to start is Sandra Lee Bartky's understanding of hegemonic femininity as a disciplinary practice.
Femininity as Disciplinary Practice
As the lesbian separatists of the 1970s and 80s intensified the work of rooting out patriarchy from their spaces, they began to discover that nothing was sacred: nearly all everyday social activities were shaped by gender. As Bartky argues, the 'imposition of such discipline on female identity' influences every second of every day:
Iris Young observes that a space seems to surround women in imagination that they are hesitant to move beyond: this manifests itself both in a reluctance to reach, stretch, and extend the body to meet resistances of matter in motion—as in sport or in the performance of physical tasks—and in a typically constricted posture and general style of movement. In an extraordinary series of over two thousand photographs, many candid shots taken in the street, the German photographer Marianne Wex has documented differences in typical masculine and feminine body posture. Women sit waiting for trains with arms close to the body, hands folded together in their laps, toes pointing straight ahead or turned inward, and legs pressed together. The women in these photographs make themselves small and narrow, harmless; they seem tense; they take up little space. Men, on the other hand, expand into the available space; they sit with legs far apart and arms flung out at some distance from the body. Most common in these sitting male figures is what Wex calls the “proffering position”: the men sit with legs thrown wide apart, crotch visible, feet pointing outward, often with an arm and a casually dangling hand resting comfortably on an open, spread thigh. …in a way that normally goes unnoticed, males in couples may literally steer a woman everywhere she goes: down the street, around corners, into elevators, through doorways, into her chair at the dinner table, around the dance floor. The man’s movement “is not necessarily heavy and pushy or physical in an ugly way; it is light and gentle but firm in the way of the most confident equestrians with the best trained horses.”
Bartky concludes that, between behavior and makeup and skin-care, these disciplinary practices "produce a 'practiced and subjected' body, that is, a body on which an inferior status has been inscribed,” and that "the practices that construct this body have an overt aim and character far removed, indeed, radically distinct, from their covert function;" that is, she claims that gender is everywhere, that it is power, and that cisgender women are structurally made unaware of this connection.
What does this mean for transfeminine experience? First, as seen in the sidewalk example we started with (so chosen precisely because of how fucking boring it is), the abstract 'genderfuck' of transfeminine existence congeals into actual examples in the context of gender-as-infrastructure. Gender is a crossing-guard, a gatekeeper, a reviewer -- it performs social functions, all the time, which glitch and shake in our presence. Transmisogyny is not necessarily vitriolic rage at 'boundary-breakers,' it can also just be the passive exclusion of a person whose existence causes a few too many little frictions.
As we've noted, the singularization of transfeminine life makes non-spectacular trans life impossible for cis people to understand, leading to a constant current of disgust/disdain that accompanies their more exciting bouts of transmisogyny. One major inlet to this current is social friction, the way that non-passing transfems are structurally prevented from using social/visual gender infrastructures to do everyday things. The second inlet, which I will discuss in the next section, is the unease provoked by the negotiations transfems take to navigate gendered systems despite this breakage, making small corrections which are ignored, must be ignored, leaving only the horrible lingering fear that they're better at this gender thing than you.
Gender work
Because transfemininity makes no sense from a vulgar gender-power perspective, cis people generally view transfeminine people as either unwitting 'dupes' of gender or as spectacular hyper-aware gender predators, as seen across the HSTS/AGP split, the dead tranny/serial killer media split, the 'scheming eunuch' archetype, and the binarization of transfem identity in queer spaces. But because cis people also generally want to assume that they're talking to someone that isn't an evil serial manipulator, personal interactions encourage and enforce the good tranny archetype, which demands absolute suppression of any sort of informed gender negotiation. This archetype is impossible to fulfill because of the systematic failure of social gender-power infrastructure to account for transfeminine people, which demands some degree of semi-intentional gender work to fill in the gaps.
Fortunately, this work will basically never be understood as such by well-meaning cis people because of transmisogyny, so you don't have to be /super/ subtle about it. Unfortunately, ignoring this transfeminine gender work takes a lot of effort on the part of cis people, particularly if they also have had to perform reparative gender work because of trans-adjacent conditions (divorce, infertility, lesbianism, PCOS). The invisible work cis people must make to keep themselves separate from transfeminine people is then associated with our presence, most clearly articulated in Janice Raymond's lament that transsexual lesbians are feeding "off woman’s true energy source, i.e., her woman-identified self" -- our proximity alone demands intense effort to keep cis gender negotiations distinct from trans ones, growing frustrations that feed the slow current of transmisogyny.
Even if a cis person successfully suppresses their understanding of transfeminine gender work, for folks within queer & women's spaces, this itself leads to a horrible looming anxiety because people in these spaces usually pride themselves on having a full consciousness of gender, and we're a pretty notable exception to that. These anxieties are then channeled into a constant fear of the bad tranny, manifested in the horrible trans woman that your cis queer initiators will tell you to stay far away from. But there is really not much of a difference between the shadowy machinations of the bad tranny and the gender work transfeminine people have to constantly perform to even exist within queer spaces, so transfeminine people are rendered constantly precarious.
What's so deliciously ironic about all this is that this is just a shallow repetition of the cis man // cis woman dyad! Archetypes like 'the poisoner witch' or 'the gossip' or 'the slut' have always been used as a reaction to negotiating power gained via the kitchen, or cloistered social activity, or sex, all routes that men could never understand as a direct consequence of their own gendered power -- so in response to this fear, these roles pilloried exemplary women to structurally terrify the population, but just as importantly to exonerate the rest of the female population, to let men pretend that these weren't tools that everyone was using, to pretend that heterosexual relationships were pure! Just as transfems serve the role of gay best friend^2 in gay mens' films, they serve the role of women^2 in queer spaces, constantly performing gender work which is simultaneously unknowable and terrifying to the cis majority, forcing periodic purges to pick out 'the bad ones' which temporarily exonerate the rest, letting the majority believe that the 'good tranny' actually exists: that mythical trans woman who is not semi-intentionally managing their gender presentation around you, the one you can fuck without worrying if she's just faking it, the one who is good and pure and radical and really, really boring. I have never met a non-passing trans woman like this, but I'm sure plenty of queer people have.
Conclusion
So there are two main forms of everyday experience that express and constitute transmisogyny. The first is the social friction inherent in being freak-gendered in a world that relies on gender to make people move and talk and shit correctly. The second is the friction between the gender awareness demanded of transfeminine people (none) and the practical result of transgendered living in the world. If you want to take some of this back to cis womanhood, I've been trying to reframe the marginalized position of womanhood in terms of articulation work -- that while women have always worked, that work has generally been rendered unreal, always carried out with a dream of not existing, turned into stage-setting for the real boys to grow up and come in and be breadwinners. In this context, our components look like 1) do gender work and 2) don't let it show, and the framing of transfeminine people as socially useless outcasts despite their constitutive role in social life via flexible labor starts to sound a lot like the making of a super-woman, like the mujerísima sometimes invoked in Latin American travesti activism. That sounds just about right. I will become a witch of witches, the lurking terror that eats astrologers, always and ever a little bit too real.
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chknbzkt · 7 months
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FINALLYYY FIRST CELESTIAL IVE BEEN CHOMPING AT THE BIT TO SHOW THIS-
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And a mix of various sketches and drafts!!!
Psst down here v
Since the horrific murder of a nobleman has put many people in the kingdom’s walls off the idea of letting dragons in their midst for the time being, Sundrop’s continued employ under the king as a personal jester and informant has many under the impression that the dragon himself may have had something to do with it, and that his influence is corrupting the monarch in question.
Sundrop, however, thinks the people can believe whatever they want.
While his position gives him plenty of wiggle room to lavish himself with as much luxury as he desires, truthfully he’d much rather be outside the kingdom walls than in them. No, his heart lies with the wilds of Hyde’s Crossing’s ancient forests. His hoard isn’t even as extensive as it should be, consisting of a few plushies, puzzles, and children’s toys here and there, it’s oddly… empty?
So as much as he… appreciates the fluidity, he spends most of his time trying to keep his distance from Farqur Kingdom as often as possible. Before he has to return.
When he isn’t on his perch at the king’s beck and call, he’s running into random adventurers and the odd monster hunter left and right as he continues to peruse the wilds and stir up mischief as per usual. Most of them have been called to action as of late due to the influx of shades razing settlements to the ground when they’ve been left unchecked for far too long, rising to the challenge in the hopes of scoring money to keep themselves afloat.
There have been a few stinkers regarding interactions here and there, but making new friends is still endlessly fulfilling and entertaining on the occasion that they’ll let him get close enough to actually mingle with them proper. He’s content to share stories of his findings and across the land, landmarks, places of interest, the best places to sun oneself and the loveliest fishing spots!!! This boy loves to know people and be known!!!
He never sticks around long enough to say goodbye however. Always leaves in Farqur’s general direction in a big hurry at odd beats in the conversation. Odd fellow. And he never actually clocked where his companion was from, so the chances of them meeting again are slim…
He seems very flighty for someone so pleasant…
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tacticaldiary · 8 months
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can you do a ghost x head doctor!reader? kind of that scenario where ghost is like, “i don’t want a regular plain nurse; i want reader 🙄” and reader is like, the head doctor of the medical wing or whatever, and doesn’t usually deal with regular military injuries, but puts up with ghost’s shit anyways? 😋
Superficial Wounds, Deep Devotion
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Fluff; Hurt/Comfort
"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.
"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with the gauze.
"All you need is to stop scaring away the field medics." She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant.
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"Ghost?" Her head snaps up from the clipboard. "What's wrong with him?" She frowns, pushing down the bubbling panic in her chest.
"He's asking for you to treat him in room Q42."
"Is he bleeding?" The urgency itches just below her skin but her cool professionalism doesn't crack. She doesn't deal with superficial injuries, only the most complex cases. She's seen it all. Mangled faces, guts hanging out, disfigured bodies.
So the fact that they were asking for her-...
Wait.
"Is command asking me to see him?" She says slowly.
The soldier shakes his head. "No ma'am. It was a request from the Lieutenant himself."
She releases a slow exhale, relief tingling. "I'll see to it." She dismisses him with a wave, starting down the hall.
Simon had this...habit of seeking her out. It was a perk of his rank, she supposes, but she'd been the only one to treat him ever since they'd encountered each other way back when she was an on-site combat nurse.
It's impossible to forget seeing him for the first time. That skull mask of his was splattered blood red, a bullet wound in his shoulder as he sat on one of the dusty cots in the emergency tents they'd set up in the middle of the desert.
They'd just clicked.
She ended up treating him again after that, and that's when he started personally requesting her.
It hadn't taken long for the spark between them to explode into something intense and loving. He was the anchor to her stressful life, unshakable and a steady presence. She was his person, one of the only people he trusted with his injuries and his heart, the warmth that let him focus on being better.
Swinging open the door without knocking, the man in question sits there in all his glory in front of her.
Admittedly, the first she stares at is his chest. He's shirtless, a cut that she can tell is superficial and non-fatal from all the way by the door.
"You can come inside." His voice is amused and knowing, the bastard.
"Inviting me into my own house?" She swallows, but listens. The door is kicked shut behind her. The moment it's closed he tugs off his mask, the weary lines of his face much more prominent under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. "How was your op?" Stopping by the cot he's sitting on to press a quick kiss to his sweaty head, she breezes past him to the medical trolley nearby.
"Fine. Did what we had to." They both know he won't volunteer any more information. Just as she doesn't confide in him with every horrific injury she deals with, he doesn't expose her to the horrific things he has to do. A mutual withholding of information for the peace of mind of both parties.
"Thought you weren't due to come home until tomorrow. I was gonna meet you on the tarmac and everything."
"Surprise." He deadpans, making her snicker.
"You know, for the big bad Ghost you are, you sure need to cause such a fuss about a little cut." Gathering what she needs, she casts him a glance over her shoulder.
"Thought it was your job to make sure I was in the best state possible for deployment?"
She loves this back-and-forth they have. He does too, if the relaxed way he leans back on his arms is anything to go by. It had taken years and years to get to the place they are right now. Years of work, of communication and trust.
"It's my job to take care of the worst, highest profile cases."
"I'd say this is pretty urgent." This playful side of him came out when they were alone.
"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.
"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with her spoils.
"Can I prescribe you to stop scaring away the field medics?" She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant. He doesn't wince or cringe or even flinch at the burn, eyes fixed on her face as she works.
"I'm a Lieutenant, I can do what I want."
She pauses, raising an eyebrow. "Are you really pulling rank on me right now?"
He hums, sliding up to hold her hips, tugging her closer. "Don't seem to mind it when we're alone, love." A smirk tugs at his mouth when a flush creeps up the back of her neck. God, he loves that look on her.
"What's gotten into you?" Shaking her head but unable to push down a smile, she works on securing the gauze, taping it down. "Getting clingy, are we now?"
He...well he can't deny it. He doesn't want to tell her the reason for it either, even if she's subtly fishing for answers.
He'd been an inch away from getting shredded by flying shrapnel from a car bomb today.
If Gaz, quick-witted, sharp, Gaz hadn't yelled and yanked him to cover behind a brick wall he would've been embedded with scraps of metal and rusty nails.
Dead, as his namesake.
Ghost wasn't afraid of death. Ghost got up every day ready to not see the sunrise again. Ghost was a cold blooded machine ready to do whatever his orders were.
But Simon wanted to live.
Simon wanted to come home to her. Simon wanted the last thing he saw to be her smile. Simon selfishly wanted her more than any victory his rifle could earn him.
Ghost had been unfazed, Simon had realised the inevitability of the avoided consequence.
Lips press against his bare shoulder. Right, left, and then gently on the gauze. It brings him back to the present, his grip on her tightens for a moment. Her gaze is soft, knowing. Because of course it is. She's the only one who's been able to get into his head like this, been able to crack the code to thoughts he himself doesn't have the key for.
"Any of other glaringly dangerous injuries I need to take a look at?" His eyes follow the smooth line of her neck as she tilts her head towards him. He exhales, shifts, and pulls her closer without warning, banding a strong arm around her.
"Dunno. Think you might have to conduct a comprehensive examination."
She laughs against his lips and goes down with him when he shifts farther up the cot.
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(1/09/2023)
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Too Sweet
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Drabble
Summary: You and Wednesday were simply night and day, contrasting personalities preventing any chance of pursuit
Warning(s): No dialogue, pining!Wednesday, & no pronouns but the word 'goddess' is used once
Notes: Based off of 'Too Sweet' by the lovely Andrew Hozier, this song feels wenclair coded - hopefully I get the energy to edit them to it one day. This is my first time writing for Wednesday, so constructive criticism is more than welcome, and much appreciated! 🙏 (as it always is)
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Wednesday despised you. She loathed every cell in your body, every word you spoke, every path you chose. Yet no matter how deep her hatred for you ran, it was all out of pure spite.
You were close friends with Enid, so inevitably that meant you and Wednesday often found yourselves in the same atmosphere. Sometimes you and Enid would have sleepovers—sometimes with a couple of the others—and it did not take long for Wednesday to discover you were an early bird opposed to her late night writing sessions. 
You always looked so peaceful while resting. How do you sleep so well? Wednesday wondered. What do you dream about? It’s silly and utterly ridiculous, she knows. But her mind can’t help but stray when it comes to you. You have shown your own concern when it comes to the Addams’ erratic sleep schedule, if you could even classify it as one. You have always said to others—including Wednesday—to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. 
You wake up to watch the sunrise;  it was repulsing how rottenly pure that is. You were drunk on life, a poet—but far from Wednesday’s brand. You had a bright perspective; it was naive, yet wholesome. Your poetry revolves around the optimistic, steadfast side of life—while Wednesday’s consists of more realistic themes such as death, betrayal, and eternal heartbreak. It was a drastic contrast.
Wednesday could never bear such a naive way of life, so she simply doesn’t understand how you do. It was such a frustrating thought, the way you went about. Don’t you just want to wake up dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? You lived such a reserved life in her eyes; treating your mouth as if it's heaven’s gate, your body like it’s the TSA. 
She wasn’t oblivious to the glances you spared her; it was an internal battle refusing to meet them. But there were consequences. Wednesday has seen horrific things, things she believes would force a person like you into abandoning their wide-eyed outlook on life; she refuses to be the one who corrupts you. She wishes she could go along, don’t get her wrong. You were a goddess on earth, inside and out; bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. Tooth rotting was what you were, but Wednesday did always deem herself a masochist. 
If you can sit on a barrel, maybe she’ll wait. But until that day, she’d rather take her whiskey neat, raw as the honey in your tea, and coffee black as the ink you use to craft your sugar coated poems. Your sweetness was too overwhelming for her to carry, the looks you gave her alone were laced in your perfection. 
Everything pointed to the evident conclusion; you’re too sweet for her.
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A/N: I feel eh abt this one, but I need to experiment with Wednesday more if I wanna get used to writing for her
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