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#and not speak to anyone or be perceived and nobody's shit's in my way and the TV isn't constantly on
sewercentipede · 2 months
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a long dumb rant under the cut
this dnd group feels so weird like….. nobody takes initiative and there r so many moments where they just don’t say anything at all. The chemistry is kind of off. I feel like I’m always the one who does the taking charge solely to keep the game fuxkifn moving 90% of the time and I only do it bc nobody else does or says anything definitive. One time I decided to see how long they could go without someone talking or suggesting any course of action (when we entered a town and the DM had finished describing it and the places u could visit) by refusing to be the first person to talk. And it was dead silence for at least 20 seconds. Which is a long time. There are 5 total players btw!!!! So all 5 of us (plus the DM waiting) not making a sound. I was biting my tongue and feeling sooooooo uncomfortable the whole time. The DM ended up having the NPC we saved suggest something. I don’t know if it’s true at all, but I feel like they’re not engaged enough at various times and the result makes it feel like playing a solo RPG video game instead of a TTRPG.
Sometimes I have to ask each person individually by name what they vote to do next when we have different options in our quest, otherwise theylll say nothing and it will just be one other player who wanted to do something, and me replying to them my vote (usually I go with it) . And then nothing happening cuz we don’t know how the rest of the group feel. The rest just be staying silent. So I fucking have to call their name to take their votes. And still some of the players don’t answer me at all when I do this. It makes the game go slower in the absolute worst ways.
I also find often that i’ll ask a question of them or the DM and get complete silence in return. Long silence again. So I’m like “hello? Can u hear me? Is my mic working?” And they’ll all respond immediately that yes my mic is working and they can hear me. So it’s like why the fuck is nobody answering my questions then lmao. This is troubling me because I don’t know why it’s happening. There has to be a reason. Am I just so annoying? I don’t want to be. I try hard not to be. Does everyone not respond because they assume someone else will answer? That doesn’t make sense when the silence lasts so long it becomes clear that I won’t get answered by anyone. Then I have to keep asking and that makes it such that I will inevitably be perceived as annoying.
It’s like pulling teeth trying to get them to actually do anything they have decided to do. Like ok we have decided to go to <place>. Why is everyone just sitting there in silence now instead of going “I begin walking in this direction” or some shit, like they are all too scared to take charge or be the first one to do anything. Or we vote on some strategy and it’s all worked out but for some reason they then just mill about…..like girl, get into formation. You chose this! So do it!
The thing I hate is that when I don’t take charge or initiate anything or say “I do this” (this being the thing we decided on) it takes 10x as long for it to happen and it’s happening because the DM had to initiate it. and so I worry that because I end up having to do this, they will (or already do) find me bossy or otherwise obnoxious and possibly harbor resentment toward me or feel like they can’t speak out about what they want to do because they’re worried I’ll steamroll them (I absolutely would not and I never do, but I worry all the same).
But once again it is making the game go slowly in the worst way. And I don’t know what to make of the fact that I keep getting ignored when I ask benign or clarification questions. It’s making me feel the way I felt when I worked at a doctors office with other women my age and they all just became friends with each other but did not attempt to become friends with me and I didn’t know why. I tried to be friendly/nice to them, I talked to them, laughed w them, I didn’t do anything shitty. I But it was like they subconsciously decided that I didn’t exist outside of work. I was ignored. And it was something I could feel around them by the lack of it. That is how this is starting to feel.
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ainomica · 2 months
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How comes when a character is asexual in canon the fandom does not have the right to ship it anymore? It has been several times I saw that happens and it boggles my mind each lf them! We have spent years and years making heterosexual characters gay but suddenly we can't change anything anymore because we have to respect the "character's identity"?? I am sure it also happens for gay characters being shipped with the opposite sex (hell, even when the character is bisexual), but having some puritains on top of that speaking about how sex is gross thus how dare you do this to the asexual character and all... when will people learn to mind their own business in fandom?
I mean isn't this clear already that all this talk of asexuality in the fandom is just a barely concealed cover for sex-phobes and Puritan conservative to look down on censor sexual material in the first place? They don't give a shit about asexual characters at all. If they did they would focus on ace type or possibly ace characters on ace week at THE VERY LEAST but they cannot even do that( I swear ever ace week in tg/cf fandom is the same "XL is ace guys! its because I see no difference between voluntared celibacy and someone who just is not sexual because no way anyone who is not ace can be voluntarily celibate!" . They could have taken Jiang Chen/g or Wen Qing or anyone of Mxtx many characters who show very little care for sex or marriage life but nah, they have to drag THE POPULAR one whose story ends with the joke of how much he likes get creampi*d by his husband).
Forget about allowing other people to write about ace characters as non ace or atypical ace relationships in peace. If they were not in an era in our history where being "Right wing conservative" was equated with being the devil they would openly identify as such and would use less jargon to talk about how they just feel uncomfortable with anyone else talking about sex especially with their comfort characters.
I have seen a real life person I knew well go extremely crazed over fictional characters because they thought everyone insults them PERSONALLY if they perceive anyone else insulting the character they think are like them. Its honestly tragic to see how unstable and and out of touch such people could be and its doubly difficult to deal with them online where nobody knows if they are joking or if they mean it when they say they "just want to respect their identity" or whatever have you to censor others.
Most ppl also "allow" het characters to be changed into gay for their slash shipping but it is not allowed because of censorship free, free-thinking culture in fandom . NOT EVEN CLOSE. They allow it because they see it as a form of counter culture activism because "mainstream is flooded with het couples ew!" . You can tell by the way some people suddenly feel completely okay with certain characters being "PrObLeMaTiC" until their gender is switched or they are turned gay or femslash in some way. I saw it with Kylo Ren! ( Lichrally saw someone say he would be "more interesting" if he was gay or he was a woman and he seems not that good as he was. ....yeah okay that sounds like an actual fetish problem that mlm fandom "fetishizer" wankers talk about)
So technically the basics of fandom culture was NEVER set right to begin with. In their eyes anyone who changes ace characters to non ace is just "reducing ace representation! which is BAD". Its basically activism in their eyes . Hence all the screaming.
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petruchio · 5 months
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hope this isn't a weird and irrelevant reply to your personal post but honestly i really get what you mean. tbh i've been there too. i get how being in a place where you're confident in some aspects of yourself and doing enviable (?) things can be pretty isolating, especially if you're (perceived as) a woman, you feel like you're good at [insert some skills that matter to you], and you generally like the way you look. it can feel like you lack empathy because you don't share some of the insecurities that people around you experience and bond over (though you may be struggling with something different that they don't get), it can feel like you can't tell if you're a good friend or not because others talk about you in terms of what you've accomplished or what you have rather than who you are as a person, it can feel like your positive emotions aren't real because they're atypical and viewed as "unrelatable" idk. i feel like loving yourself and believing in your abilities is a net good but not a substitute for being around people who actually relate to your experiences. for me it's essentially feeling likable but not understandable (or understood), and ime it's something that isn't "solved" by having a lot of friends. it makes sense if you feel like that's not enough. not sure if any of this is actually similar to what you're going through, but i hope you get the chance to be around people who Get It, and i hope you feel less alone soon. you seem like a genuinely kind person on top of being great at writing/analysis -- i love the way you write about the things you're excited about. wishing you all the best <3
it's not weird or irrelevant AT ALL! it honestly always does make me feel better when i come on here and speak about something i'm struggling with and other people say, hey, yeah, me too. especially when the thing i'm complaining about is feeling alone, it's comforting to know that other people feel the same way. like, we're all lonely together, which makes us less alone in our loneliness.
and yeah i think you're right -- confidence is one of those weird things where the more you work on it, the more difficult it can become to relate to other people. people are always telling me i'm so confident and asking my advice on things and i'm always like... idk how to tell you to just stop caring what people are thinking. i mean, obviously i do care what people think of me, but maybe the problem is that because i'm my own worst critic, i can't imagine anyone hating me more than i already hate myself, which paradoxically means that i assume everyone loves me? or maybe it's because i can't imagine anyone genuinely giving a shit about what i do, so it's easy to just do whatever i want. because it's not that i don't care what people think, but just that i pretty much assume they aren't thinking about me, so why would i bother trying to impress them? (like some of my friends will describe in detail the logic behind their instagram story posts. and i'm just like... do you really think other people are noticing this? do you really think people care that much what you, some random person, is posting? it's kind of crazy to spend so much time thinking about yourself through the lens other people. just post if you think it's funny, or don't. nobody is actually thinking that much about you.)
but to your point, i feel like that is kind of where a lot of the loneliness comes from. because people describe certain insecurities or thought patterns that they have, and i'm just like yeah i truly cannot relate to that, or yeah, i would never do that. and when i do express things i'm struggling with, people act so shocked and never offer any kind of support because they're like "but your life is so perfect!" (which is INSANE! nobody has a perfect life! and i know it sounds like the most obnoxious problem ever, like oh my life is so great that nobody believes me when i say i'm still inexplicably sad, but it is a really isolating and lonely existence!!) and then i guess it kind of becomes a cycle where people say or do certain things, i don't relate to them at all, and then i wonder why i'm still struggling so much even though i'm honestly doing fine, and then i feel guilty for even struggling or feeling down because i don't really know what else i can do to get better, since again, i'm objectively doing fine.
i get what you mean about feeling likable but not understandable. recently i was on a second or third date with someone, and i had this weird out of body experience where it was like, i could see myself doing everything right -- i could see that he was totally into me and that i was saying all the right things and laughing at the right times and making the right jokes, but i didn't feel like a person? i knew i could make him like me, and that it wouldn't even be that hard, but i knew he would never actually know me, not even if we kept dating for years. he would always have just "liked" me, like you said. it was a really weird and uncomfortable feeling. i came home and wrote in my journal "sometimes i feel like i'm so good at pretending to be a person that i don't feel like i'm actually a person at all"
SORRY for these long rambling answers. i guess i'm feeling some type of way about my inability to function normally lately. being 24 is just weird i guess. it's uncomfortable and awkward and frustrating, and so much of it feels like this sense of cognitive dissonance between being really good at acting like an adult but still feeling like you just want to scream and cry and throw things like a toddler but you know you can't. i guess someday it will all make sense. or maybe it won't. but i'll keep writing about it either way <333
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razieltwelve · 8 months
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Saviour Sees All (Final Rose AU)
Blake headed back to her team’s dorm room and then froze when she saw who was sitting on her bed... and what they were holding.
“Where’s my team?” Blake asked Averia.
The pink-haired woman’s lips twitched, and she took off her sunglasses before tucking them into her pocket. Her emerald gaze pinned Blake in place. “I sent them elsewhere.”
“You sent them elsewhere?” Blake blinked. “What are you... some kind of supervillain?”
“I suppose it depends on who you ask.” Averia patted the book on her lap. “And speaking of asking... I find myself very curious about this book of yours, Blake.”
“Uh...” Blake tried to keep a straight face. "I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s just a regular book.”
“The cover is for a regular book, yes.” Averia opened the book. “On the inside? It’s a journal, and I must say that you have some very interesting thoughts.”
“...” Blake was so screwed, and not in a good way either.
Averia smiled. It was chilling. “You seem to have something of a fixation with Saviour and whether or not it can be used to optimise sex.”
“I can totally explain that.”
“By all means.” Averia gestured. “Explain.”
“...” Blake winced. “Shit. I’ve got nothing.”
“I didn’t think so.” Averia closed the journal and set it down. “Yes.”
Blake stared. “Yes?”
“Yes. Saviour can optimise sex.”
Blake’s mouth went dry.
“If I was so inclined, Blake, I could absolutely rock your world.” Averia stood and calmly removed her suit jacket before setting it over the back of Blake’s chair. Her vest soon followed, as did her tie. However, rather than set her tie aside too, she left it on Blake’s pillow. Averia caught her staring, and a ghost of a smile crossed her lips. “I have a feeling I’ll be needing that later.”
Blake had to remember how to breathe.
“As I was saying,” Averia continued. “If I wanted to, Blake, I could make you forget your own name. I could completely ruin sex for you with anyone else but me because whenever someone touched you, the only thing you’d be able to think about would be me and what I could do to you.”
“...”
Averia gestured, and Saviour’s power rolled out. “Nobody will be able to enter this room until I let them. Nobody will be able to see, hear, or perceive what we do here. And as for time... well, we’ll have all the time we want.”
“Are... are you serious?” Blake managed to say.
“Absolutely.” Averia’s smile turned wicked. “But, Blake, there’s something you have to do for me first.”
At this point, Blake would have crawled across broken glass.
“I need you to tell me what you want me to do.”
“But...” Blake stuttered. “But you already read the journal. You already know -”
“Yes. I do. But I want to hear you say the words, Blake.” Averia undid the top button of her shirt. “Otherwise, I’ll walk out of here.”
Blake swallowed thickly. “Why...?”
There was something almost cruel in Averia’s smile now. “I’ve noticed a certain trend in your fantasies, Blake. And believe me, it didn’t take Saviour to notice it either. You want me to take charge. You want me to take control. You want me to tell you what to do.” Her eyes gleamed. “And I’m telling you to say the words, Blake. What you’ve written down in your journal? That’s fantasy. Say the words, Blake. Say the words and make them real. That’s what I’m asking you to do.”
Blake took a deep breath. As... raunchy as her fantasies could be, as... depraved as some of the smut she enjoyed was, she was also a very private person. Actually saying those things aloud...
“I’m waiting, Blake.” Averia opened the journal to a certain page. “This particular scenario might be a good starting point.” She glanced back at Blake. “Tied up, gagged, and kept on the brink. That does sound fun, and with Saviour keeping track of things, who knows how long I can keep you there.” She patted her cheek with one gloved hand. “Ah, and I even have gloves on. Imagine that.”
Blake’s gaze immediately snapped to the long, slender fingers and the smooth, silken fabric of the gloves. Sweet Dust...
“I’m starting to lose patience, Blake. Are you someone who merely writes down their fantasies but has no intention of pursuing them, or are you someone who can proudly announce what they want?”
Blake took another deep breath. What left her lips was basically gobbledegook, an almost random conglomeration of every single fantasy she’d ever had about Averia. She trailed off, cheeks red, and utterly mortified.
“Well...” Averia shrugged. “That’ll do, I suppose.”
And then Blake next to Averia, an application of Saviour smoothly teleporting her onto the bed.
“Now,” Averia said. “In the interests of completeness, I think we’ll start at page one.”
Blake’s eyes widened. “Uh...”
“Although we might have to take a few breaks before we finish.” Averia leaned toward her. “Because you have two hundred and thirty-two pages of fantasies here, and unless I’m mistaken, this is only volume one of seven.”
X     X     X
Author’s Notes
Someone asked for Averia x Blake.
Behold.
But, yeah, Blake likes to fantasise. Averia can optimise. Is that a perfect match, or what?
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bokane · 1 year
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Initial thoughts on 'Babel'
I guess one good thing about Twitter collapsing is that at least now there's no danger of anybody finding anything you write. I finished R.F. Kuang's Babel yesterday, and would love to talk about it with other people who have read it. Tumblr is a lot less susceptible to context collapse and also nobody's here, so there's probably less risk of pile-ons and unnecessary bad feelings.
I wrote up some initial impressions of Babel as a sort of hypertrophied tweet thread -- initially posted on my alt, then edited a bit when my mom e-mailed to ask about Babel after seeing it mentioned somewhere, then edited a bit more. Throwing these out as discussion points, in case there's anyone still using Tumblr, rather than as conclusions: I may be wrong, am probably missing things, and have been in a generally fucked-up headspace lately so I could be getting all of this completely backwards. The tl;dr is that there's a lot to like in Babel, but the author is capable of doing a lot more, and there are places where it feels as if she was butting up hard against the limits of what can be done with YA.
1) I enjoyed Babel and also feel like there’s no way of critiquing the book without coming off as being all #NotAllWhiteSinologists about it.
2) I love the conceit at the center of the book, and really love the way Kuang stealthily drops a good overview of issues in translation theory on her unsuspecting readers. Ditto for the disguised intro to center/periphery and its subsequent payoff. These are things that should be common knowledge, and this is a really cool way of getting us to that point. Language nerds will love this book and translators will find themselves seen and depicted by someone who gets it. This part is so good, you guys. I'd recommend the book for this alone.
3) But it feels like the worldbuilding falls short of its own standards: the world of Babel operates according to extremely different rules, and has for centuries, but somehow ended up geopolitically and socially in sync with our own as of the mid-19th c. Obviously this is necessary for Kuang to tell the story she wants to tell, but it feels less than fully satisfying. This is even more the case, in ways that I think are worth unpacking, for all the anachronisms of fact, speech, and thought: Babel's footnotes and general attention to contemporary events and pop culture recall Susanna Clarke, but Clarke's characters had 19th century brains in 19th century bodies and it is impossible for me to imagine them using the word "feminist" in any sense, let alone a positive one.
4) There were real people in the 19th century who accurately perceived and courageously fought the injustices of their day, and for Babel to have its characters speaking and thinking in the ways they do feels very much to me like 21st-century Twitter Discourse colonizing 19th-century justice movements. The problem is not that the characters are always saying things like "non-zero chance" or that they're opposed to the exploitation and degradation of their homelands by the British Empire; it's that in their speech, actions, and thoughts they flatter the contemporary reader instead of honoring people who actually existed. In a less ambitious or more carelessly written book, this probably wouldn't have been as noticeable, but Babel does itself the disservice of being otherwise thoughtful.
5) Would it replicate colonizing dynamics of knowledge production to note that by the book’s own logic Robin should have been speaking Nanking Mandarin as the prestige dialect, that even in Beijing those velars hadn’t fully palatalized before high front vowels yet, and that the Hanyu Pinyin romanization system used here wasn’t invented for more than a century and reflects pronunciations that didn't become the official standard until the early 1950s?
(Obviously the above is all nerd shit. But Babel is thoughtful and well-researched, so things like this jump out much more than they would in a book whose author had not invested the same quality of thought and care.)
I actually do mean this as a live question. When a person who looks like me makes comments that look like this about work by a person who looks like Kuang, it is ~~uncomfortable~~ for very good reasons. Reading Babel as a white sinologue is discomfiting, and the book does a good and (to my mind) convincing job of explaining why that should be. But I worry that in doing so, it will encourage at least some readers to adopt the sort of weird zero-sum views that disguise truculence and intellectual laziness as social justice and anticolonialism. I'm pretty sure that's not what Kuang was out to accomplish with the book -- but it's a clearly identifiable tendency, especially among the kind of people who post about YA fiction online. I love Twitter and am already grieving it, but there's a reason I didn't post this there.
The word "problematic" is, as a noun, an invitation to examine and think through complex issues. As an adjective, it is mostly deployed as a verdict: "problematic (adj.)" registers discomfort and prevents further discussion. Babel does a good job of describing a problematic (n.), but it does so for an audience mostly inclined toward the adjectival use of the word, and if I were to phrase my concern in terms of the book's devices, I guess I'd say I'm worried that in translating complex and discomfiting issues into the idiom of YA, Kuang creates a "problematique / problematic" match-pair that risks backfiring.
6) A lot of my criticisms basically are over things I would’ve liked to have read, rather than the things that Kuang was actually trying to write. In an earlier version of these thoughts, I wrote that Kuang succeeded admirably at the task she set for herself, but on further consideration I'm not actually sure what that task was. Babel's plot and characterization mark it as YA, and judged by that standard, it is a remarkably well done and thoughtful book. (Full disclosure: I believe that YA is actively bad for people and should absolutely be eliminated as a commercial and conceptual category, so I enjoy and admire the way Kuang makes it clear here and in her earlier work that being a YA protagonist is incredibly bad praxis.) But taking Babel seriously means judging the book by (what I take to be) its own standards, and I don't know if it clears that bar.   I enjoyed Babel and found a lot to like in it -- but Kuang is obviously capable of doing a lot more if she ever wants to, and I hope she will.
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pacifymebby · 2 years
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Nobody is cancelling him, they are just disappointed he’s calling an abuser a ‘hero’ and even wanting to be in his presence. If you think a white straight male can be cancelled you’re very wrong. Do you even know what the term ‘cancelled’ means? Sam has said he wasn’t thinking and knows he was wrong for it. Stop defending him for something he knows he shouldn’t have done
This is going to be a messy answer because it's an emotional and volatile subject matter for me and my thoughts are muddled but... For a start...
You're doing it, you're literally doing it again right now with your "white straight male" thing.
Also cancelled is a meaningless word, there isn't a single person who has ever been effectively cancelled.
Also as a victim of domestic violence/rape and coercive control I think I have a pretty solid say on this one. I wasn't even disappointed in him for taking the photo, Johnny Depps a really famous actor who starred in some big films from my childhood, I'd probably have a drink with him because I'm not naïve and I don't believe for a second you can live a morally pure life in which you can be perfect all the time and avoid contact with other people or things you perceive to be morally bad.
What you're saying about how Sam shouldn't even have wanted to be around him, that's you effectively saying that Depp should now be isolated from society forever and idk, that strikes me as weird and not justice at all.
I actually don't care that Sam's apologised either, I don't think he needed to apologise for a photograph. It's dumb, it's not progressive, it hasn't helped DV victims. This whole case has been shit for DV victims, not because of the verdict (though the verdict has been grim) but because its made a complete mockery of DV cases.
It turned a nuanced and horrible case into reality TV for two months. As a victim of DV I can safely say I am now no more likely or unlikely to ask for help, or to talk about my experiences.
My ex tried to take me to court for defamation when I told people what had happened to me and seeing this court case pan out the way it has has been grim BUT,
This court case is so far removed from reality and so deeply embedded in celeb culture that it may as well be an episode of big brother or some shit. Its not going to effect DV victims at all, women were being sued for this shit before, victims will continue to be sued after.
And I'm ngl, the verdict was probably correct, at the close of the trial they had both done so much damage to one anothers careers for having gone through the whole thing so publicly.
Abusive relationships are messy, and nuanced and you can never point blank say that one person was perfect and one person was evil, especially when it sounds the way this one was. It sounds messy and blurred and I just think anyone getting mad at Sam Fender of all people for taking a photo with Johnny Depp pre verdict, not even drinking with him as pals just like one drink and then leaving to go seperate places... Is missing the point massively and as I said,
Proving Sam's point about how there's 0 room for mistakes and you're held to a ridiculously high moral standard that is IMPOSSIBLE to meet by social media and society in general.
His post was obvs not in support of Depp and he hasn't said anything in support of Depp pre now either so for people to jump on it in such a reactionary, angry brain, way is stupid.
I don't know how to break this to you either but, the DV stats across the world are SO high, the gender based violence stats are SO high, that we are all mutual friends with at least 1 if not more people who have treated another person poorly.
You litterally can't avoid them, and again, getting mad at Sam Fender, a man who speaks about women's rights a lot, who does actually try and is actually quite politically concious, over one photo, is missing the point.
This was a mess but idc
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waitingforeddyneddy · 4 months
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I don't think you understand what it really means to be a woc in this industry and have your own fans be the reason why people could turn against you because they're so busy being vile to other people for no reason. You can hate all of those people but clogging their tags every single day doesn't endear anyone to Simone, it doesn't make them sympathize with her. You're making people resentful and if that's your end goal congrats you're succeeding. You're probably going to respond to this with some inane nonsense about how it's your tumblr and you can do whatever you want but think about how she's being perceived because of you.
listen i gotta respond to you and I hope the bestie who sent me a similar message reads it too
FUCK OFF
i'm not responsible to the way people react to Simone. I'm in no way affiliated with her. Stop with this fucking bullshit that the things I say here on my blog are the reason people "must hate her". This is psycho behaviour, the same behaviour that started to make me answer asks. I'm sick of this fandom trying to silence people who dare to speak their true opinon. It's not that serious bitch. It's not.
JB fans say out out touch things all the fucking time I don't see anyone blaming it on him? How come? Uh? We all know why so shut the fuck up and stop crying in my inbox.
"I don't think you understand what it really means to be a woc in this industry and have your own fans be the reason why people could turn against you because they're so busy being vile to other people for no reason"---->what the fuck does that even mean my fucking god. Shut the fuck up I just rolled my eyes so hard I don't even think i'm going to get them back. Seriously shut the fuck up, you and your besties need help. Nobody is forcing you to like Simone, a lot of you are faking it, you're just here to thirst after that rat, stop saying me, a nobody who shouts in the void of the interent is the reason Simone must be "hated" cause you're only outing yourself you fucking miserable piece of shit
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dreamlogic · 3 years
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i would commit so many sins and crimes to be alone in my own house for one (1) hour.
#shit chat#i talk to ppl who are like 'i live alone it's hell i miss being around people' and i'm sure it is#but i have been packed like sardines in a duplex with 3 other people for going on a whole year#during which time i've had maybe? 3?? hours total? of alone time#as opposed to pre-covid when i specifically scheduled my days off for days when everyone else worked so i could be alone#at least twice a week for several hours#i love my family and it's a safety thing that we all need to stay home but holy fuck i'm ready to murder someone#every time they look at me speak to me do anything i am just. filled with defensive rage#i need my SPACE!!!!!!!!#and fuckin. every tiny little pet peeve is amplified 100x. i get so irritable about the stupidest shit#i asked my parents if they could maybe go for a drive or a nice walk by the river so i can be alone for a little and they laughed it off#you don't understand i am deeply introverted and if i don't get to be by myself in my own home soon i will end up doing something i regret#god my mental health has been TANKING the last few weeks and literally just like an hour of Me Time would do wonders to fix it#me time in the building i live in. not me time where i have to leave the house when it's fucking cold as shit to hear myself think#bc i am a fairly clean/quiet/unobtrusive roommate but my parents just Sprawl and the house is calibrated to their preferences#as a default so everything is just. slightly off from how it would be comfortable for me#i'm gonna cry i literally just want to have a morning to myself where i can take my time waking up and play music in the kitchen#and not speak to anyone or be perceived and nobody's shit's in my way and the TV isn't constantly on#and heaven forbid i can jack off once a year without having to be completely silent FUCK
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bigskydreaming · 3 years
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Headcanon that everyone within the family may think of Dick as the one most in their father’s favor, but Dick is keenly aware that the general public thinks of him as their father’s ‘Consolation Prize.’
After all, when from their perspective he’s the one Bruce raised since he was eight as his ward, with that dissolving when he was eighteen and very little perceived contact between the two of them for years after that, while Jason was adopted soon after being taken in and Dick was then later adopted years after Jason’s death, without any public fanfare.....
What does that look like other than Bruce ‘settling’ for the son who didn’t appear to be his first choice, just chronologically first, once he lost Jason but still needed/wanted an heir, as he was getting older and the general public still didn’t know yet how closely tied Tim was to the family or that it wouldn’t be long after this that Bruce adopted him too?
Now granted, you can definitely perceive the above as overly angsty and not the only way this situation was likely to be perceived outside the family, but my point is more that like.....nobody ever presumes that the general public are overly kind or generous in their views or assumptions about the Wayne family behavior. I just don’t buy that people assumed there was some optimistic explanation for the way things appeared here, or that people just went “oh its probably because the kid who grew up in that house the longest just doesn’t WANT to be adopted by the billionaire and have all the security that brings, and that’s also clearly why he lives in Bludhaven of all places and a shitty apartment building at that.”
I mean, no matter what WE the readers may know of Dick’s personal priorities and how little he cares about where he lives or that Bruce would have willingly paid for him to have a better place to live if he really wanted it, is that what people are most likely to assume, based on appearances?
Anyway, I’m just saying, I bet it bugs the crap out of Dick to hear his siblings casually refer to him as so obviously enjoying favored son status and being the clear apple of Bruce’s eye, as he’s like, cue internal monologue: gee, sure wish I was as confident of that back during the years he seemed to want nothing to do with me.
Like I’ve said before, I think Dick isn’t actually super insecure and his insecurities such as they are mostly revolve around how his family and friends perceive him, not the general public.....BUT I do think that with as high profile as the Waynes are, there’s no way that nobody picked up on how little contact Dick and Bruce had in the continuities where they literally went over a year without even speaking to each other....and like, felt free to draw their own conclusions.
 And I do think this is also part of why I default to thinking a lot of canon takes and headcanons tend to gloss over how shitty Gotham public could be in their views/treatment of Dick. Like just because Dick was basically trained from birth to be able to work a room and entertain people while in their direct presence, that didn’t actually make him ‘one of them’ in their eyes, and I reeeeeeaally don’t think you can actually underestimate the pettiness and jealousy one percenters feel when they see someone they inherently view as lesser than them - as they would’ve viewed both Dick and Jason due to their lower class births - like....’leap frogging’ over them into greater wealth via being taken in by Bruce. 
Like, idk, maybe it just comes from having been a scholarship kid who went to a richy rich private high school attended mostly by the children of senators and hotel-chain owners, lol, but like.......I can not for a second picture Gotham’s upper class actually LIKING Dick or being as charmed by him as they frequently are depicted as, just because Dick knows how to be charming and likable. Like they might play it that way when in public at a gala, for appearances or whatever....but the second he turned around they’d be badmouthing him at juuuuust a high enough volume to ensure he’d be able to HEAR them but not be able to call them on it without it looking like he went back and provoked a scene over something ‘nobody else around them heard them say’ or whatever. Just to make sure that no matter how well he came across in public social settings, he never ‘forgot his place’ or whatever or forgot that they were all too aware of it too.
And also also, it always kinda bemuses me that as much focus as the Court of Owls and Talons get in Dick’s narratives in canon and fic, that we’ve barely ever seen any examination of what the Court retroactively means for Dick’s years growing up around upper class Gothamites who likely included more than a few Court members.....like, we KNOW years later that like, all along there were these people who even without knowing who Batman and Robin were, like, knew Dick Grayson was their ‘Gray Son’ and intended to claim him as their weapon someday, and you can’t tell me that wouldn’t have factored into how they viewed and interacted with a child and teenage Dick Grayson as they attended many of the same social gatherings and functions. OR that Dick himself in the aftermath of the Court of Owls reveal, didn’t look back at his OWN childhood and reflect on how many creepy or uncomfortable encounters he had with various socialites that left him feeling decidedly skeeved out and not a fan of how they were looking at him or things they might have said to him, thinking themselves oh so clever for alluding to things he had no idea about......like, I imagine there had to be more than a few encounters from his younger years that always stuck with him, and after the Court of Owls revelation like....looked TOTALLY different to him, especially if he happened to know for sure that some of those very people were in fact Court members. BUT I DIGRESS.
All in all though it all circles back to the same thought for me.....people might have been polite to Dick’s face when he was growing up, but they most likely had plenty of shit to say the second his back was turned, and I doubt they were afraid to be overheard by him. Especially in his later years, once people noticed how distant he and Bruce seemed to be, and thus perceived that as meaning that nineteen year old Dick Grayson wasn’t as ‘protected’ by Bruce the way he was when he was younger.....meaning the people who were most jealous of Dick’s ‘catapulting’ up the social ladder and eager to knock him down a peg because of that, like....probably would have looked at the relative lack of contact between he and Bruce as far as anyone could publicly tell, and felt emboldened enough by that to up their snide whisper game with shit like gossipping about how oh, the Grayson boy may be back in Gotham again, but we all know he’s just poor Brucie’s consolation prize anyway, why, if he really cared all that much about the boy, he’d hardly have ever let him run off to Bludhaven of all places, without even making sure to staple the advantages and opportunities granted by the Wayne name to him the way he made sure to right off the bat with the younger one.....
So yeah. There’s my angsty musings on how Dick likely is perceived by Gotham public at large, and how his interactions with them - especially when NOT around Bruce and Jason and the rest of his family....probably very much does not match up with what they assume public perception of Dick is, given that in their eyes ‘everybody loves Dick Grayson,’ but in Dick’s experience ‘everybody may be charmed by Dick Grayson while he’s doing his best to be charming,’ but don’t mistake that for acceptance. Not when Gotham’s public are just as likely to dismiss him as the second choice Wayne heir and consolation prize to make themselves feel more important/elevated than him the second their own insecurities have them feeling intimidated by the wealth, power and prestige Dick does actually share in by virtue of being part of Bruce’s family.
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siriusmydeer · 3 years
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🌗congrats on 800 followers!! could I have a blurb -angst prompt 24 please?
her maroon lipstick
sirius black x fem!reader
summary: sirius looked at everyone but you
word count: 1.1k
warnings: cheating, hinted wolfstar, blackinnon bc that deserves a warning, unrequited love, kissing, swearing, mentions of drugs and alcohol, angst, self doubt, insecurity, mentions of sex
a/n: if u couldnt tell inwas feeling mean today and isa told me to break her heart so: *que jazz hands*
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you loved sirius black— maybe even adored the boy, but you knew you probably loved him a little bit too much. he loved you as well, he at-least told you he loved you, and you didn’t want to presume he was a liar. he had always looked at you, your looks, your body, your face but he never had truly seen you; your soul, your essence, you’re entire being.
he was always gazing at someone else entirely, you didn’t wanna know it, or see it, but you did. it didn’t matter who he was looking at but it definitely wasn’t you. wether it was his lycanthrope of a bestfriend, or the local gryffindor beater marlene fucking mckinnon, they weren’t you.
throughly the same frequent sentences were pushed into the back of your mind with the same coherent words, ‘it’s fine, they’re just hanging out.’ or ‘it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’ but those were simply just your excuses for him.
that night before a quidditch game you had been blown off, yet a-fucking-gain. you truly weren’t surprised, you expected his neglect. but the feeling of dejection truly lingered through every nerve in your bloodstream. you weren’t the number one in his life; you were a backup, a second option, or your personal least favourite.... just not enough.
because marlene, was more important. he had to go study with her— i mean since when does sirius fucking study? he simply doesn’t, he doesn’t study, and he doesn’t fucking care. but still reminding yourself, ‘it’s fine, they’re just going over stuff.’ i mean even james and peter had perceived something you were unaware of.
a day later, a gryffindor win— against slytherins of course, a significant calling for celebration. unconcerned you threw on a simple outfit, nothing too fancy, school was overrated as it is and a mini-league quidditch game certainly didn’t deserve a special outfit no matter how many times your friends detested to your statements. as soon as the game had ended, the raven-haired males eyes didn’t search for you rather a tall brunette with pearly white teeth and dark maroon lipstick.
sirius of course had his troublesome past, you knew of his family, and his sexual-run arounds that went to hogwarts. it wasn’t a shock to you, you had just denied yourself to be one of his easy people. but to your pure-promised heart, you didn’t just become one of them you became the one. not to love, but simply to fuck.
you were just company when nobody else could be, and even though you swore not too; you let yourself because you fell for him, or maybe it was his mask of flirty gestures and lingering kisses.
you made your way to the gryffindor tower, the hallways dead silent to the point where you could hear the drop of a pin or the swish of someone’s hair. the seventh years succeeding in performing a muffling charm that barred any supervisor from suspicion of a party.
as soon as the portrait whole swung at your mumble of the password you were met with immense clamour and uproar from all the celebrating students. the potent smell of marijuana and fire whisky hitting your nose, immediately scowling at the first whiff of the aroma.
couples had been scattered and sprawled across the deep-vermillion coloured couches. all noise drowned out by the deafening amount of rock music, picked by sirius no doubt.
you knew in the nook and crannies of your mind you should’ve scrabbled this together, it should of been suspected, or rather even bound to occur. but nobody should ever expect to see their boyfriend drunkenly making out with another woman, ever.
you didn’t want to cry, or look weak, i mean you felt ashamed. we’re you not good enough? we’re you had to him? did you not check up on him enough? but maybe it wasn’t on you— maybe it was on him.
maybe he was the one who fucked up— he didn’t treat you good enough. he didn’t spend enough time with you. all in that moment you felt— was the burning bitch of an emotion, rage. pure and simple rage.
you felt the thump and click in your feet as you belligerently marched over to the kissing bunch, his arms taking a harsh grip at her waist and the aroma of alcohol abundantly clear as you got closer.
you jabbed a few times on his shoulder, the rustled leather familiar underneath the pad of your pointer finger. the boy pulled away with a drunken-grimace, prepared to shout at anyone who had interrupted him until he saw it; your face filled with abundant anger.
oh shit— you had caught him right in the act.
“y/n, listen—“ the boy started before your eyebrows had creased in immense frustration and anger of his foolish excuses. choosing to ultimately speak first and think later.
“no, you listen sirius! you’ve treated me like absolute shit, like i’m the last fucking option in your palm— like i’m not your girlfriend that you have confided in, and kissed, and fucking slept with! i really don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t walk around acting like you own the place when you can’t get one damn thought straight. so you can’t come to me as a last option anymore, you can go stick your player bullshit right your own damn arse!” your voice was heaving in such anger of him, finally opting to pick yourself— not to be a second choice, not anymore.
after your monologue built over months and months of culpability for feeling like you couldn’t never be enough for him, and irritability that he had never truly cared was full forced in one speech cutting him off for good.
you quickly spun around the mahogany floor, striding directly out of the red and gold common room; you heard the quick pad of footsteps behind you whilst walking in the hallway, swivelling around again seeing your befuddled and tipsy ex-boyfriend try and catch up with your exasperated steps.
a deep shade of maroon smudged down the curvature of his lips and the planes of his olive-toned chin, yeah, fuck you sirius.
“now what the absolute fuck do you want now?” you whisper-shouted in the midst of the hallway, trying not to alert the attention of filch or professor mcgonagall.
“i love you, y/n, please—“ the boy attempted to plead in the midst of his sentence and deeply failing whilst slurring his words, the alcohol abstinently pining through his nervous system showcasing his bleary vision through his viewpoint; venturing for your forgiveness, but your decision had been made the moment he was caught locking lips with the gryffindor beater.
“tell me that when you’re sober.”
taglist: @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness
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angelicimagines · 3 years
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Hey i really liked the ddlc monika ask so can i request that with shuichi and kokichi mod shuichi!!!
Hello there, I'm glad you liked it. It's my pleasure, hope you enjoy! -Mod Shuichi
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Shuichi Saihara and Kokichi Ouma with a S/O that's like Monika from DDLC.
Shuichi Saihara🔎
🔎 Thought you were hallucinating or something. 🔎 Man's a detective, he's wired to look at the logical answers first and whatever you just confessed to him wasn't making any sense. 🔎 This just makes the eventual reveal the more fun (for you of course) 🔎 Lowkey had an existential crisis when he saw it with his won two eyes. His brain was going overdrive and he sat there for about 20 minutes trying to comprehend if he was just crazy or if what he saw was real. 🔎 Congratulations, you have broken this man. 🔎 Once he comes to terms with it, he's incredibly amazed. You immediately have all of his interest, he's hooked. 🔎 Alter fate for him in any way and he'll not let you got for the rest of the day. He's repaying the favour by being more affectionate than usual. 🔎 Please make him go to bed at a reasonable hour, don't let him overwork yourself. 🔎 Will make sure that you don't do anything heinous with your power. Don't take him wrong, he loves you, but he worries about a bad influence (read: Kokichi) affecting your use of your power. 🔎 Speaking of which, he won't hesitate to shut down any suspicions anyone might have of you. 🔎 He believes that as long as you don't abuse your power, nobody has the right to disrespect you or put pressure on you. 🔎 Even during the killing game he somewhat trusts you. Sure, the environment doesn't help much, but he knows that you're more than other-worldly powers. 🔎 This belief helps when you open up to him. You worry your powers will affect your emotional control and that eventually it'll get to your head and do something horrible. 🔎 Not on his watch, not on his watch. He'll comfort you and do the head bubble technique which makes you giggle a little. He's there to tell you that you are not your powers and that your abilities don't define you. 🔎 Your abilities are just another aspect of you, another aspect of his sunshine <3
Kokichi Ouma🎲
🎲 First impression is that you're a liar like him, which he would believe but there's one tiny detail foiling that hypothesis 🎲 He can tell you're not lying, and that scared him a lot bit. 🎲 Being him, he plays it off and says he'll "play along" with your belief for shits and giggles or to see if he can benefit from your supposed ability. 🎲 Show him and he'll have a momentary heart attack. Just for a bit while the initial shock dies down though 🎲 After that you'll regret ever mentioning it. He will not leave you alone until you answer every one of his questions. You brought this upon yourself I'm sorry. 🎲 He tries to persuade you into using your abilities for DICE or to help him (read: help both of you) during the killing game (depending on which universe you imagine this is). 🎲 Says you are the better version of Kiibo because of the technological aspect of both of you (much to Kiibo's dismay and annoyance). 🎲 He loves you, but he does have his own insecurities about the relationship. He knows how others perceive him and he knows about your abilities, so he's scared that you'll use them to change him. 🎲 You reassure him that no, you won't change him with your abilities. You love him just like he is. 🎲 It is at this moment you got the see the incredibly rare sight of a flustered Kokichi. 🎲 Treasure the moment, screenshot it even (never let him live it down >:]) 🎲 Won't hesitate to publicly embarrass whoever even thinks of giving you a hard time because of your abilities. 🎲 He is stumped when you open up to him however. You mention how you're afraid you made all of this up and that you're really all alone, simply convincing yourself that everything's real. 🎲 Words are not his forté, so he takes a different approach; physical touch. It's how he confirms that he is, in fact, real. you're not alone, he's there. 🎲 He loves you and feels safe around you, so he'll make sure you receive that love tenfold, no matter what you can do <3
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blockgamepirate · 3 years
Text
So we were talking on Discord about a DSMP superpowers AU, specifically Syndicate as an anarchist superhero team who are perceived as villains by pretty much everybody. (There were a bunch of people involved in the brainstorming but I wanna particularly credit @macachee for the idea for Techno’s superpowers, even though I ended up using a slightly different version than theirs.)
Anyway I know I don't really write fanfic anymore and I'm extremely rusty but uh... my hand slipped?
(CW: nothing major but there are repeated mentions of fire and some pretty tame violence)
×××
"Professor Underscore, I presume?"
The distinctive deep voice of an infamous supervillain was really not something anyone wanted to hear after 14 hours of last minute bug-fixing on a prototype superweapon in a secret laboratory. Especially when all your assistants had already called it a day and gone home.
Without even looking around, Tubbo reached for the gun in his desk drawer but before he could pull it out, a blade smashed into the wood right next to his hand.
"Nope", said the voice, "you don't get to have weapons, I get to have weapons. And speaking of weapons..."
Tubbo carefully turned around on his chair to face his attacker. As expected, it was a huge, hulking pigman dressed in flashy red and a golden mask.
"You are Protesilaus, aren't you? From the Syndicate?"
Protesilaus blinked at him. "You're a LOT younger than I expected, professor."
"Yeah, I get that a lot."
"I mean it's very impressive though, good for you."
"Thanks."
"So anyway, I'm here for the weapons."
"The weapons are kinda reserved already. You know, for the military."
"Don't give a shit", said a voice from the door. "Gib."
Protesilaus sighed. "Zephyrus, you're supposed to be the secret back-up."
The man hiding by the door frame laughed. "We already took care of the guards. There's nobody here but him, it's fiiine."
"But what if HE has his own secret back-up? What then? Well, it's too late now so just keep a look-out, alright?"
Zephyrus laughed again. "Sure."
"Alright." Protesilaus pointed his sword at Tubbo. "Show us to the weapons."
×××
There wasn't much he could think of doing to stall except try and tap in the pin codes on the doors as slowly as humanly possible. To be fair he didn't even really know what he was stalling for exactly. Secret back-up would have been nice but if they’d really taken out all the guards then none was likely to come.
Protesilaus was following him, sword in hand, making random small talk on the way as if he didn't know how to deal with the silence. Tubbo had only caught a few glimpses of Zephyrus, the winged man, in the background or in reflections. He seemed to be tampering with the security systems on the way, meaning that Tubbo really might be completely alone on this if the sabotage was successful. Zephyrus was also pulling along a big wheeled container of some sort that was probably intended for the weapons.
The two of them were the known members of the Syndicate, a team of anarchist terrorists who gave nightmares to the local police forces, the national guard and occasionally the military, but it was also widely theorized to have a secret third member with fire powers. Nobody had ever managed to catch them in the act, the only evidence of the secret member's existence was the trail of smoking ruins following the pair, their targets always burned down in a blaze of extremely memorable pink flames.
Tubbo had a theory that there were actually two secret members in the Syndicate, because if you're going to have one secret member you might as well have two, right? Maybe even three! It just made sense.
His assistants hadn't seemed convinced by this logic.
They arrived at the large hall leading up to the main vault where the prototypes were hidden and Tubbo finally had a plan. Somebody (probably him, honestly) had left the remote control of his battle bots lying around on a sidetable. He took advantage of his captors checking the space for surprise guards and inched slowly towards the remote.
"Everything good up there?" Protesilaus called out to Zephyrus who had flown up to the rafters.
"All good."
"Alright, seems safe enough", said Protesilaus. "Now, open the vault."
Tubbo just needed to stall a little bit longer until he could grab the remote undetected. "Actually, maybe I just won't be able to live with the fact that I let you guys get your hands on superweapons? What if I'd rather die than let you have them?"
Protesilaus sighed. "Look, don't worry, it's for a good cause, I promise."
"I mean, you guys are supervillains."
"Oh yeah sure, you're literally making weapons for an imperialist government but we're the villains?"
"What about that orphanage you burned down?" Tubbo kept moving towards the sidetable, trying to make it look like he was just pacing nervously.
"I have NEVER burned down any orphanages, I do NOT have an irrational hatred of small children, in fact I LOVE orphans in particular, you can ask anyone."
"You did, though! That was like two years ago, back when you were part of the Sleepy Bois Inc!"
Tubbo actually knew quite a lot about the Sleepy Bois, the infamous villain team who were particularly known for conning people into taking part in some sort of strange experiments, like that time they somehow transported a hundred people to the moon and told them to terraform a random area. The group had broken up a while back and two of the four had since reformed. Well, more or less reformed anyway. Actually not really reformed, but they were at least sticking to smaller crimes these days.
Anyway Mr. Business was now one of Tubbo's best friends, although nobody was supposed to know that. And Dirty Crime Boy seemed like a surprisingly nice guy. He was out there running what seemed to be some kind of a drug van but Tubbo had chosen not to worry about it too much.
The other two members, however...
"Sleepy Boys? Doesn't ring a bell." Protesilaus' face was suspiciously blank.
"You know, back when you called yourself the Blood God."
"Nah nah nah, I'm Protesilaus, not the Blood God."
"Come on, you're OBVIOUSLY the Blood God."
"I've never even heard of that guy."
"You're LITERALLY a pigman with superhealing powers and a shiny magical sword, you wear a crown AND you're hanging out with a blond guy with wings who looks just like the Angel of Death."
"Wow, wild coincidence", said Protesilaus
“Not gonna lie, the Angel of Death is a really cool name“, said Zephyrus.
Tubbo ignored them. "And you sound exactly like the Blood God."
"I don't hear it", said Protesilaus.
"You said you don't even know who he is!"
"Exactly."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'EXACTLY'??? THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!!!"
"Well I can't hear it if I've never even heard him speak. That's just logic."
Up in the rafters Zephyrus was cackling like a madman.
"You annoy me so much", said Tubbo.
"Aaaanyways, just give us a little peek into the vault, alright? Just out of curiosity, you know."
Tubbo had made it to the remote, he just needed one more distraction to cover for him grabbing it. "Uh..." Then he had an idea: he just took a quick sudden glance at the exit, as if he'd seen something over there and sure enough both of the criminals immediately turned to check. It was just long enough. He got the remote. "Okay fine, you can see the vault."
"Nice, nice." Protesilaus was still glancing around suspiciously but he had no idea what he should have been suspicious of.
Tubbo was more than happy to open the vault now. It might be holding the prototypes but it was also filled with a small army of robots.
All of which came to life with the press of a button.
"Ah", said Protesilaus. "There's his secret back-up."
"Oh Jesus", said Zephyrus. "I think we fucked up."
"You could say that", said Tubbo. "If you just leave peacefully I might let you go", he added in a sudden fit of uncharacteristic levels of confidence.
Protesilaus raised his sword. "Well you see, I really want those weapons, though."
"I guess you'll just have to fight the robots for it then", said Tubbo, configuring the targetting system.
"Mate, they've got guns on them", Zephyrus called out from above.
"Take cover then", said Protesilaus, very much not taking any cover at all himself.
Tubbo, pretty sure the bots knew which people to fight, released them on the criminals.
Protesilaus immediately managed to dodge the first few lazer bolts from the bots, but the third hit him on the arm. He flinched a bit but didn't seem too bothered. "Ouch. Okay so they can actually aim."
Still dancing around the shots, he held his hand to the wound and once he took it off, only the singed hole on his sleeve remained. The Blood God had been known for some kind of healing powers and coincidentally Protesilaus of the Syndicate, who apparently definitely wasn't the Blood God, just happened to also have healing powers. This fight was going to be hard even for thirty robots.
The pigman finally took some cover, hiding behind a pillar. The robots would have to move closer and Tubbo could already tell that if he'd manage to single them out, Protesilaus would easily take them down one by one.
Even worse, Zephyrus had hidden behind a different pillar up near the ceiling and was sniping the bots from above. They were supposed to be bulletproof but the man was absolutely cracked and managed to keep hitting them in the joints and in the eyes.
But at least the bots had given Tubbo some room to work with. He bolted into the vault and headed straight for a very specific section.
"So I just wanna know, professor", Protesilaus called out from the hall, "how are you NOT the evil mastermind here? You have a LITERAL horde of robots in your control that you can just let loose on people!"
"What do you MEAN? They're for fighting people like you! In this exact kind of situation!" Tubbo found what he was looking for and quickly unbuckled the huge harnesses holding it in place. He had to get a stool to reach the highest ones and nearly tripped on it in his hurry.
"Oh and how many of these have you sold to the government? And what if they just decide that they'd be very convenient for taking care of dissenters?"
"Well if the dissenters are literal supervillains, that sounds great." He climbed the ladder on the wall up to the platform by the mech suit and jumped inside.
He couldn't hear what Protesilaus responded after he pulled down the dome of the suit over his body. The sounds of fighting and the bulletproof glass drowned it all out from this distance, and the sound system wasn’t turned on yet. Now the odds should be a lot more even, though. Let’s see how they deal with this, he thought. He settled in and launched the mech--
... and then maneuvered awkwardly through the mess of secret weapons and machines inside his vault. He was pretty sure he didn't break too many things on the way, it was fine. In the corner of his eye he thought he saw a flash of pink and for a second he worried that the pigman had followed him into the vault where it would be almost impossible for him to fight in the suit but luckily he could still hear the sound of sword clanging into metal from outside.
He moved over to the vault door as sneakily as he could while piloting a 12-foot-tall machine in a tight space and looked out into the hall. The floor was littered with broken robots, and there were several blinded ones aimlessly wandering around and getting in the way of the ones that still functioned properly. Protesilaus was towards the back of the hall, stabbing a bot in the armpit and tearing off its arm, Zephyrus on the other hand, still perching on the rafters, had moved around the pillar he had hidden behind, now aiming away from the vault. Neither of them were looking at Tubbo. He took aim and shot at one of the huge grey wings.
"Ah! Fuck!" Zephyrus spun around. "You little shit!"
"Zephyrus, are you okay??" Protesilaus immediately looked over to his ally and took another hit himself.
"I'm FINE, dude!" Zephyrus sounded exasperated but fond. "Look out yourself! Also the kid has a fucking mech."
"A what?"
Tubbo slammed the vault door shut. Good luck getting in there now, Syndicate. Then he tossed aside some robot carcasses to clear out the floor and threw one at Protesilaus who dodged it easily but in the process took another hit from a different robot. He was starting to look tired and he was obviously distracted by Zephyrus getting hurt. That was promising.
Tubbo started climbing the pillar up to the ceiling. Zephyrus cursed again and tried to hop around the pillar to run across to the other side but his hurt wing didn't open properly so he lost his balance, slipped up and fell. "Shit!"
"ZEPHYRUS!"
The man managed to open his wings and soften the fall but the injury made him veer dangerously to the left and crash into a pile of broken robots. Protesilaus leaped over to him, dropping his sword and laying his hands on his friend's wing and back. A faint red glow emitted from the touch points.
Tubbo jumped back down to the ground and stormed at them. He punched the pigman right in the chin, sending him flying across the room. He then tried to grab Zephyrus but the man had already slipped away and had apparently managed to pick up his friend's sword. "You motherfucker", the man said, "I'm going to take that fucking suit apart and then it's your turn."
"Zeph!" Protesilaus called from the side and Zephyrus tossed the sword to him without taking his eyes of off Tubbo. Then the man pulled up his sniper rifle again and Tubbo quickly covered his weak points with his armoured arms and jumped behind a pillar. He needed to disarm Zephyrus ASAP.
Behind them, Protesilaus was taking care of the last few robots. Tubbo didn't have much time, but he couldn't do anything until Zephyrus would have to reload, the guy was just too accurate...
"Oh fuck", said Zephyrus suddenly. "Prot, the door!"
They all turned to look at the exit.
There, at the door, was Ranboo, widened eyes flicking between Tubbo, the broken robots and the Syndicade. He was holding a bowl of biscuits and a cup of tea. "Uh... hello? Hi?"
Ranboo was actually NOT allowed in the vaults but how do you stop someone who can literally teleport anyway? Tubbo was glad to see him sneaking in, though.
"Ranboo! Help! They're trying to steal the weapons!"
"I..." Ranboo seemed frozen in place.
"Ranboo!" Tubbo was starting to get worried. His husband wasn't even taking any shelter. He drove the mech over to him to at least give him some protection.
"I just came to bring you cookies? Coz I thought maybe you were staying late to make the deadline and I thought--"
"Ranboo, I'm being attacked by supervillains right now!"
"Look, what if we just talked this through? I'm sure everybody here would rather not kill each other, right?" Ranboo was tall enough to lay a hand on Tubbo's shoulder even when he was wearing the mech suit which kind of pissed Tubbo off to be quite honest.
"Sure", said Protesilaus, "I love negotiating. Give us the weapons and their blueprints and we're more than happy to go."
"See? That's good, right? Tubbo, we can just let them have the weapons."
"Ranboo, sometimes you're a bit too quirky for my liking. Stop being quirky, help me fight them. You can use your... T-E-L-I-P-O-R-T-A-T-I-O-N powers."
Everybody just stared at him for a second.
"Shouldn't it be T-E-L-E?" said Protesilaus.
"Tubbo, you realise they can spell words too, you know, like most people who graduated elementary school?" said Ranboo.
"I'M SORRY! I'M TIRED, OKAY?"
“You could have just said ‘use your powers’, I mean, I know what my powers are.”
“IT'S BEEN A REALLY LONG DAY!“
"Zephyrus, I think this guy might be too much for us, I've never met such intimidating intellect", said Protesilaus. Zephyrus seemed to already be dying of laughter and his ally's words did not help.
"Now that's just rude," said Tubbo.
He'd barely finished his sentence when a horrible whistling sound hit them all like an invisible cargo train. After a second Tubbo managed to reassemble his braincells long enough to figure it out: "The fire alarm!"
Then he noticed the grin on his enemy's face. "Well, good job, everyone! Let's go home, Zephyrus", said Protesilaus cheerfully.
"Sure, mate."
The secret third member of the Syndicate, Tubbo suddenly remembered. The container they'd brought with them was gone too. Well, fuck. "This whole thing was a diversion??"
"Yep." The Protesilaus was already at the exit and Zephyrus was following right behind him. "See ya, losers!"
Something inside the vault exploded, making a muffled bang through the door, as if just to prove where exactly the fire had been lit.
"Oh man..." Tubbo flopped down on his seat. "I spent SO LONG building all those things!"
"Tubbo, we need to get out." Ranboo took him by the hand of his mech suit and pulled him along.
"No, we could still go in and save the--"
"No, Tubbo. Let's NOT run into the vault full of dangerous chemicals that's literally on fire, actually."
×××
By the time the fire department showed up, pink flames had enveloped the entire lab complex. The terrorists presumably had at least one of the prototypes now and all the remaining ones were a lost cause.
It's not like all the work was gone to waste, they'd made some backups at least, but it would be a pain to find a new lab and order all the extremely volatile chemicals again. So much paperwork. Tubbo was really not good at paperwork.
"Well, there goes my summer holidays I guess", he said.
"Yeah", said Ranboo. "There they go."
×××
"So... Lethe", said Techno at the next Syndicate meeting, "you never happened to mention you were friends with Professor Underscore."
Ranboo shifted nervously in his chair. "I mean... in my defence, you never said you were going to raid his lab?"
"True, true. It didn't seem like relevant information at the time I suppose. You know, because you're kinda more in the group just for the book club and Bake Off Fridays and not so much for the vigilante thing."
"How do you know Professor Underscore, Lethe?" asked Niki gently.
Ranboo looked around the table. He was fairly certain that the others wouldn't kill him for fraternizing with the enemy. He was pretty sure anyway. At least 70% sure.
Also they were all staring at him now.
"Uh... he's my... husband?"
The staring continued.
"Oh!" said Niki.
"Well", said Techno. "This is awkward."
"Uh huh?" Ranboo responded, his entire body tense and slightly wobbly.
"Techno", Phil said softly. Techno brushed him off.
"So uh, are you attached to him, Lethe?"
"Y-yes?" Ranboo straightened his back. "Yes." he said again, more firmly.
"Alright. I guess in the future we should try not to kill him then."
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persephonesinfernos · 3 years
Text
ignoti nulla cupido | part eight.
summary: natasha finds you once again to be able to keep her an tony’s promise to keep you safe, but how would they react when they’ll learn about the little dirty secret you have been keeping since you left bucky’s side?  
word count: 1128.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader.
warnings: angst, and bucky being a dickhead.
author’s note: I’m sorry but I hate bucky, it doesn’t matter if I write him like this, I hate him. and please, please, do not hate me.
ignoti nulla cupido series | taglist | masterlist.
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“A kid?” Steve asked astonished.
“Yes, Cap. A kid, a little human being.”
Suddenly the whole room erupted in noises, everyone was asking questions about the revelation. Every single one of the Avengers wanted to know the name of the boy, his age, who was his father, why HYDRA took him, why (Y/N) didn’t tell anyone about him, etc.
Everyone was stating their opinion on the mater but Bucky, Bucky remained sited in a dazing state. Not a single movement was perceived by Natasha that was solely focused on the father, little did he truly know about (Y/N)’s son.
“Okay, that’s it,” Tony’s voiced was heard loudly over the murmuring. “Romanoff, why didn’t you tell me about this? Knowing about the kid would’ve made things much easier all this time.” The billionaire was clearly fed up with the present issue.
“Because Tony, I didn’t know,” the redhead spat back tired of Tony’s shit. “I didn’t even know until a few days before I went for her, until it was probably too late,” her hands up in the air, signalling her frustration. “Don’t you think I would’ve love to know that my best friend was pregnant? To be with her during the pregnancy, during the whole thing? She did it all by herself Stark,” Romanoff’s orbs stayed focus on Tony, but she was still very aware of Barnes’ movements. “Besides, it was not my secret to tell, not my confession to make. If she didn’t it was because of something and I always have trusted her judgment.”
Bucky stood up abruptly, his chair falling behind. Every single pair of eyes darted to him, however, nobody said anything as he walked out.
“Where are you going Buck?”
“Steve, I just… I just need to know,” a distraught whisper was all Steve could make out of his friend.
“Let her be, maybe you don’t like what she has to say.”
“I don’t care anymore.” With that, James Buchanan Barnes left, ready to discover what was truly going on with her former lover.
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(Y/N) was pacing around her room, she knew she told Nat to tell her big secret – most of it, at least. The team deserved to know if they’re going to help her out on this, but did she make the right choice? Maybe it was her who should’ve let everyone in her secret, maybe she should’ve of talk to Bucky first.
An ear-piercing bang startled her, turning around as she pointed her gun at whoever dared to walk in there without her permission. A blank pair of blue orbs staring right through her, her soul ripping apart at the sight.
“A child (Y/N)?” Barnes’ voice was calmed down but his heart, his heart was beating so loudly he was afraid it would break through his thoracic cage.
(Y/N) was still pointing her gun towards him, too afraid to even breathe. This was the moment she dreaded for the past three years, all the things she had thought of saying to his father’s son at some point evaporated from her mind.
“What do you want Barnes?” She blurted out.
“By starts, to not being pointed with a gun. Secondly, I want to know.” Bucky’s eyes began to look everywhere in hopes of a sign. A sign that he was doing the right thing, that what his instincts were screaming to him was wrong.
“I don’t have anything to tell you. You were crystal clear last time we were standing in front of each other, do you remember it? ‘Cause that last time is still my worst nightmare James.” Just speaking out his name broke more of her soul, not anymore was the name of the love of her life, but also the name of the child he fathered and now was at the claws of the same people that made Bucky’s life a living hell.
“(Y/N)….” He spoke softly, his feet stumbling to her in caution but something made him stop dead in his tracks. An image on an Ipad, a picture of a little kid with striking ice blue eyes, sharp jaw and short brown hair that was cut oddly familiar to a past life.
(Y/N) noticed what was going on but she was too afraid to try anything, she just stood still and watched how Bucky’s face changed from sorrow to realization, realization about your little boy, about his boy.
“Is that him?” Bucky’s voice was just a whisper, his fingers tracing the screen.
Taking a deep sight (Y/N) decided to tell the truth, nothing could be more broken. “Yes, name’s James. A shy three-year old that doesn’t need to blurt out a word, just the way he looks at you is enough to know what’s in his mind,” (Y/N) approached Bucky’s slowly, she was behind him now and even though Bucky didn’t budge when she placed her hands on his shoulders, she could sense the storming coming. “Just like his father” (Y/N) spoke, tears running freely down her cheeks.
Bucky snapped out, turning furiously to (Y/N) “He’s my son and you didn’t think I deserved to know? To know I had a kid.”
He towered over her, making (Y/N) feel terror at how his metal fist clenched in his side.
“You told me to get the fuck out of your life, that you didn’t care anymore about shit that happened to me or that will happen. That I was a demanding bitch.” (Y/N) chocked out, not looking at his eyes.
“You gave birth to my fucking son (Y/N), and now Hydra took him because you weren’t able to protect him.” She was sure that by now, someone had heard all the noise coming out of her bedroom even thou Bucky’s words were a mere whisper.
“I wasn’t able to be there, to watch him grow, to protect him because of you and your fucking insecurities and fear.” He was now inches away from her face, his metal hand grabbing (Y/N)’s wrist so tightly she was sure there were going to be bruises on it tomorrow morning.
(Y/N) tried to say something but it was like she was paralyzed, the only thing she was able to do was to watch the cold demeanour of the person she still loved and hated equally.
“This is on you (Y/N). Whatever happens to him is on you, just pray that we will get to him in time.” Bucky said voidly now, it felt like the Winter Soldier was the one standing in front of you.
He let go of (Y/N), her back hitting the wall behind her. As Bucky was about to cross the threshold, he stopped and without glazing her way he spoke “I’m getting a lawyer, as it is clear that you can’t be responsible for my child.”
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forever taglist: @everythingisbeautifulposts​ | @rogersparkerbarnes​ |
ignoti nulla cupido taglist: @vicmc624 | @margaaaa30 | @gudenuph | @summb | @peaches-roses-sins | @pspice639 | @purplewcrld | @gloryekaterina | @krazykatkay456 | @fangirl-swagg | @austynparksandpizza | @4babez | @tanyaherondale | @droopingdatura | @loveyou5everr | @urimaginespimp​ | @nat-reads​ | @asherys-valyrion​ |
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cuntess-carmilla · 3 years
Text
On disability and gender
I'm writing this from my perspective as a dyadic TME non-binary lesbian (also mixed but very pale and non-Black, as well as relatively thin). I will group myself with women but like, I'm also not really a woman it's complicated lol. I say this because I can't have first-hand comprehension of all the possible dynamics between gender and disability, and other physically disabled people are very much encouraged to add their own thoughts and perspectives to this post.
I don't feel equipped to speak on how being disabled and intersex impacts gendered experiences because I have too much left to learn, so I'm sorry that I'm not going to go into it. It's not because I don't recognize that struggle, it's because I just don't have the range, so please, if you're an intersex and physically disabled person and you want to expand on this, don't be afraid to do so.
Able-bodieds can reblog but don't speak out of turn.
------------------------------------------------
For a long time I've been trying to articulate my thoughts and pain on how physical disability impacts our gendered experiences and I think I'm finally starting to get to it.
When you're physically disabled you're immediately stripped of a (willing) gender identity as well as desexualized.
Gender is embodied and performed. You can embody it "incorrectly" and perform it "poorly". Everything regarding the embodiment of physically disabled people is seen as incorrect, and the literal meaning of "disabled" is that we can't perform the same way that able-bodied people can, or at least we can't without severely impacting our wellness.
Disabled men are emasculated. Constructs of ideal manhood are in big part built on things such as physical prowess, never expressing vulnerability, being self-sufficient outside of anything domestic, and conquering women sexually and romantically.
Disabled men are seen as weak, they are seen as pathetic for having visible vulnerabilities or (if their disability isn't immediately visible) for exposing their vulnerabilities instead of "sucking it up". By needing aid, accessibility and carers that do more than what a wife would traditionally do for any man, the sense of self-sufficiency men are supposed to perform is unavailable to disabled men. All disabled people are desexualized and seen as repulsive once our sexualities are acknowledged, and even disabled dyadic cishet men can't escape this. Able-bodied women see them as unfit for any sort of serious romantic or sexual partnership. Not to mention too the traditional role of men as providers and how difficult it is for any disabled person to acquire wealth at all, let alone enough to support more than ourselves alone. The rates of poverty for physically disabled people are fucking astronomical, so most disabled men can't even use that to their advantage in romance and sex to make up for all the other ways in which they're at a disadvantage compared to able-bodied men.
Disabled women fail at embodying and performing every single aspect of traditional womanhood too, but in particular; domestic labor, sexual labor, and beauty standards.
All labor is difficult if not downright impossible when you're disabled. Disabled women who need carers as adults are seen as complete failures because, even as children, but especially as adults, we're the ones who're supposed to be the carers of others, not the other way around. People love to pretend that women are coddled more than men, but nothing breaks that illusion more than being a disabled woman. A woman's needs are supposed to be invisible and self-fulfilled, or else we're whiny spoiled bitches, and guess what that means for disabled women. When we can't perform this pristine role we're immediately marked as failures, we're undesirable and nothing but a parasitic drag in the lives of abled people.
Yes, not all disabled women are straight, plenty of us are bi or lesbians, many are also aro/ace, but the point is that the patriarchy doesn't really give a shit what a woman's sexuality is, because no woman is seen as having sexual agency, so even if we're not straight we're expected to exist to satisfy men sexually. I cannot describe how difficult it is to be sexual, even when you're not ace, if you're physically disabled. Speaking from my own experience, trying to maintain a sex life as someone who experiences chronic fatigue and chronic pain is one of the most frustrating and demoralizing aspects of my disability. I want sex, I want to want sex, to be able to fuck my fiancé, but most of the time I simply can't gather the energy to even feel horny. I feel like such a failure of a lover because of it. Even though my fiancé is patient and understanding with me!
Can you imagine what it is like for disabled women who aren't as "lucky" as me, to have a partner who understands that we simply can't do it all the time even if we do want to? I don't want to go into too much detail about this because it's very painful and triggering to many, but I think you can imagine what happens to a lot of disabled women (and disabled people in general) when we're not satisfying a partner sexually and they get too frustrated by it. Being as vulnerable as we are, nobody cares much what happens to us. More so since, again, physically disabled people are seen as sexually repulsive, so if anyone wants sex with us we're supposed to be "thankful" for it, no matter the circumstances.
As for beauty standards, any woman who doesn't fit traditional beauty standards will know just how badly men treat you when they don't find you physically appealing, and well... Let's just say that a cane or a wheelchair aren't seen by society as particularly attractive, no matter how much the woman using them fits traditional beauty standards otherwise. Then there's female amputees, women with deformities, etc. In my case, I'm a literal mutant. If I don't disguise my tells with corsetry, long sleeves, and so, so much more, my body looks "off", I have been told repeatedly that my body looks "off" my whole life, and I'm one of the least visibly disabled ones! Even regarding body hair it's fucking hell. My collagen is so elastic that when new hair grows it stays ingrown unless I manually break my skin with a needle or a pumice stone (no, gentler ways of exfoliation don't work), but shaving isn't ideal either because my skin is, due to my altered collagen too, literally transparent and you can see the roots of my dark hairs under it even if I shave down to accidentally harming my skin with the blade.
Performing femininity at all is just... It's fucking hell. If it's exhausting for able-bodied women, can you imagine what it is like for us? I can barely manage to shower, by the time I'm done with my hair, makeup and outfit, every bit of my very limited energy is depleted and then I still have the rest of the day to go through. And I LIKE being feminine. I like wearing makeup and wearing the outfits I wear and yet I still dread it when I know I'll have to do more than stay in my pajamas at home.
Also, the perceived fragility of disabled women isn't the type of fragility that is seen as desirable in women. It's not delicacy. Wheelchairs, canes and other mobility aids aren't seen as "delicate" or "demure". Neither is kinesio tape, or compression stockings, or any other sort of medical equipment which, on top of it all, tend to not be very "aesthetic". Our fragility isn't the romanticized type, it's the "wow, you're an useless burden who can't serve me the way I expect you to" type.
When it comes to "binary" disabled trans people (for a lack of a better term) the degendering is even more intense than it already is for their cis counterparts (all that I described above applies to them too). There's a dichotomy of the even heavier denial of their actual genders as men and women due to the combination of their transness and disabilities, contrasting with how even if they were to conform to their assigned genders at birth they'd still be seen as failures at it due to everything I've already stated. There's also the sentiment that their identifying outside of their assigned gender at birth is a sort of consolation prize, something they're going for only because they were failing at being proper cis men and cis women, and thus their actual genders are even more invalidated and effectively pathologized in the most medical sense of the word, which is already a problem for all trans people, but for physically disabled trans people this intensifies the problem even more.
When it comes to non-binary disabled people things get so fucking confusing and infuriating. If binary disabled people get denied their manhood and womanhood, best believe that multigender disabled people (bigender, genderfluid, etc) are denied all aspects of their genders even harder. Not even completely agender disabled people are safe from being seen as failures of their gender identities by people who would perfectly respect the identity of an agender but able-bodied person. The fact that the default gendered status of all disabled people is forcefully degendered makes it so agender disabled people aren't seen as having any agency or self-determination in their (lack of or neutral) gender identity, it's seen as a passive inevitability from their embodiment, so it doesn't really "count", while simultaneously being subjected to the general transphobic bullshit any other agender person would be subjected to.
All of these things already affect white, thin and dyadic physically disabled people. When you add race (especially Blackness and/or being dark skinned), fatness and being intersex into the mix, the ways in which we're degendered and misgendered are off the fucking rails.
We can't fucking win.
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neo-culture-mafia · 4 years
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[05:35AM] "Do you really have to go?" Jeno whined in his raspy morning voice with a small pouting on his lips as he watched you get dressed. He was sitting on your bed, not looking satisfied at all.
"I do. Mark is out of town, and I promised I would take care of the morning practice." You answered while your eyes were focused on your image reflected in the mirror.
"Why does it have to be at 6 am though?" He pointed to the clock on your bedroom's wall, rubbing his eyes with one of his hands in the cutest way possible. Jeno had the way of looking adorable even when he didn't want to (which means pretty much all the time). "I thought I would get to cuddle you for a few more hours." He mumbled in pure grumpiness.
If you weren't already so late, you would kiss the shit out of him. Jeno looked absolutely astonishing whenever he woke up, but today he looked even more handsome. His messy black hair. His naked upper body showing the muscles you so much kissed last night. His puffy tired eyes. The marks of love you left all the way from his neck to his abdomen. His soft lips that were still a little bit puffy from all the deep kisses you had shared. That was probably Jeno's best look you had seen in all of those years of relationship.
"Rules are rules, babe. You got the easy part, the paperwork. I got the hard part, screaming at a bunch of reckless kids who wouldn't last a second on the field." You smiled to yourself as you tried to tie-up your hair to make you look at least presentable for today's classes. You didn't want your students to whisper all day long about your sex life.
"Your part sounds more fun." Jeno quietly admitted with a twisted expression on his face, causing you to chuckle before closing the last button of Jeno's white button-up shirt from last night. The room was still a mess from the things both of you had done, and Jeno couldn't help but smile as his eyes wandered on your figure.
"Speaking of fun, you look so good with my shirt on. I'm surprised that you didn't rip any button apart. You were pretty aggressive last night when opening it." He smirked, biting his lower lip as he gave out a hand for you to come closer. "Come on, sit here and let me give my girlfriend a kiss before she leaves me all alone."
"I'm not falling for this." You cut him off, shaking your head with a big smile on your face while your hands massaged your cheeks with a random face cream you found. "You still have no clothes on, and I can't be late today. Mark would kill me." You gently patted the cream next to your eye area before turning to face your boyfriend. Jeno had his head tilted to the side, and his eyes had a darker vibe to them. Even with the lack of lightning in your room, the lusciousness was evident in his eyes.
"Mark is not here. Your boyfriend is." Jeno pointed at himself, looking pretty offended that you were really playing that "Mark would kill me" card against him, something that every living soul in Neo Culture had already played before. 
Shocking news: Mark would never kill anyone, but nobody was crazy enough to test it out.
"You mean my super hot boyfriend, who literally looks like he's eating me alive with his eyes?" You furrowed your brows in obviousness, putting both of your favorite pair of earrings, gazing at your boyfriend, who was now stroking his black hair behind in the sexiest way possible.
The audacity.
"Guilty." Jeno shrugged with hands up in surrender. "But come on, it's just a kiss. I promise I won't do anything beyond that." He gave out his pinky, extending his hand for you to take. You stared at him for a few seconds, deciding about whether you were gonna believe that or not.
"Fine." You squinted your eyes, taking a few steps closer to the bed as Jeno's smile also grew wider.
His hands instinctively went to your waist when you reached the bed as an attempt to bring you closer to him, but before he could manage to get you to sit on his lap, you fastly stole a peck from his lips and pushed yourself away from his grip. He didn't see that coming, and the disappointed look on his face showed. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, and Jeno let a deep sigh out in stress as he shook his head, leaning his head back as he tight-closed his eyes.
"WHY DOES MY GIRLFRIEND HATES ME?" He whined, pretending to cry as you started to burst out laughing at your boyfriend's frustration.
"Sorry babe, I can't be late today." You pouted at Jeno's reaction, biting back a smile while your hands grabbed your leather jacket so you could finish today's outfit.
"I won't cook dinner for you tonight." He boasted in crossed arms, refusing to even exchange looks with you.
"Is that your way to retaliate?" You questioned, not being able to restrain a smile anymore. Jeno wasn't the cute type, but probably the combination of sex frustration + morning grumpiness had its own way of affecting Jeno's usual tough posture.
"Yeah." Jeno, whose keen eye missed nothing, noticed your hand lazily grabbing your phone as you pretended to scroll down something, finally attracting his attention back to you. "That's fine. I'll text Doyoung to cook for me." You wondered, looking at Jeno out of the corner of your eye fast enough to catch his posture permanently breaking out.
"I hate you." His hands fell on his lap, as a sign of his surrender. The cute annoyed look on his face remained still though.
"I love you." You sent him an air kiss, grabbing your backpack to check if you weren't leaving anything behind before sliding your phone inside.
While your eyes once again focused back on your boyfriend, you perceived a little smile on his face, probably because of the words you had just said. You two weren't the kind of couple to say those words all the time, but whenever you did, it hit hard, and you loved it.
"I know you love me too, you headstrong. I'll see you later." You genuinely smiled at him, wishing you could somehow eternalize that scene on your mind so you would never forget about how much you adored every single little detail of your boyfriend.
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Text
Allright. Elliott thread that nobody asked for. Part 4
The words you read seem to be some alien gibberish? Try these first:
Part 1   |    Part 2     |   Part 3      
Don’t worry guys. It will be over soon, I promise.
Bevore we start: This happened yesterday.
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And I basically turned into that iCarly gif, where she’s on the Computer, sippin’ her drink and goes: interesting.
Because look who we have here. Our future husband acting all self-aware? Right after I assumed in my last post that he never talks about the possibility of his failure...
Elliott, do you know that I talk shit about you on Tumblr?
Please stop breaking the 4th wall...
To safe at least some of my ‘credibility’, he followed this up with something along the lines of:
“No, no...I am not fishing for compliments. Which does not mean I don't appreciate them ;) “.
Sure. Whatever.
In comparison to that:
A few in-game days previously, I had a cut-scene with Leah, where the player can suggest that she should organise an art show. And there, Leah openly communicated her fears of ppl not liking her art. I was surprised about how open she was, given that it was probably her 2nd heart event or something (?). It's interesting, how Leah (who I perceived to be more reserved than Elliott), was so willing to let us know about her insecurities. Meanwhile, Elliot seems to brush these thoughts aside rather quickly and returns to his nonchalant, graceful self.
I always thought that from the two of them, it might be Elliott who is more vocal about his emotions. But now, Elliott doesn't seem to wear his heart on his sleeves as much as I thought he would. Which changed the way I think about him quite a bit. Maybe he is more likely to hide behind platitudes and a self-assuring smile, after all.
And what can we take from this, when we would want to write, let’s say a scene with Leah/Elliott friendship dynamic?
What do you guys think?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anyways, before I was so disgracefully exposed, I was roasting Elliott’s life choices. To which I now gladly return to.
You see, the "issue" I see with Elliott is, that he plays into a trope:
The brooding hermitic author, who turned his back onto society in favour of finding inspiration in nature.
While this might sound thrilling and "romantic", we know that Elliott is not the best candidate to conform to this lifestyle. Just compare, how we as the player, manage to form quite strong relationships with everyone in Pelikan Town just by talking to them regularly.
We see Elliott outside the beach-area quite often. But aside from Leah, he does not seem to interact with anyone much. I don't know if there are statements about Elliott made by other characters, to have some inkling on how they feel about him. But its quite remarkable, how all other friendships outside to his connection with Leah, are not explicitly known as canon (?).
After a whole year living in this town, previous to our arrival, I would suggest, that Elliott might still be very much an outsider. He even remarks how, with our arrival, it will be nice, to no longer be "the new guy" in town.
But the problem with that might have been Elliott's reservedness, to begin with. Polite, but yet, maybe, quite impersonal. All pleasantries and platitudes as mentioned above. It all plays into Elliott's refusal to experience the comforts of a normal lifestyle in favour of pursuing his art.
And I love how Elliott just brushes that aside as if its nothing. I'd really love to know: what would have been his plan b, if his debut failed?
Worst case cenario: What would he'd done, if he ended up stranded in Pelikan Town, penniless and unsuccessful?
Where would he go? Is there a place he can return to? A previous home, previous friends?
I don't think so.
But, dedicated, impuslive, sweet, dumb Elliott just thought to himself:
“I can do that. How bad can it be???, it will be fi~ne.It will be marvellous!
Authentic, truly!
It will be superb pictouresque and that is all I need to write my novel....”
Thanks Yoba. You’ll keep doing that please.
And then we also have interactions of the likes of:
“People have scaped a living off the sea for thousands of years....
I just go to the grocery store.”
A different thought I had on Elliott kind of plays into what I already said previously. But I will adress it as its own topic.
The downside of Elliott’s ego.
As much as we explored the rather whacky / chaotic elements of his character and how he does stupid shit for prestige itself, it is interesting to see what happens when the player challenges his self-dramatisation.
I keep re-thinking if and to what degree Elliott can laugh about himself.
He is not one for self-deprecating humour, I think.
I can imagine that to be more Shane’s thing.
We see different scenarios, in which Elliott reacts differently to things not going his way. One of the positives is the whole “A tiny crab made a home inside his coat pocket”- story. I have seen two interpretations of this scene. And both are dependent on the tone, in which you read his dialogue. One group thinks he is just complaining yet again.
On the other hand, you could read it more like:
“My, look what we have here. Can you believe that [y/name]?!“.
I think that Elliott does not appear to be angry or annoyed at all in that scenario, too. He could have vented to the player, how he needs a new coat, now.  But he simply leaves it at that. And you know what?
But, there are other times, where Elliott reacts negatively to the player not doing what he wants you to do. Meaning:  your reaction to him or your behaviour in a specific situation. Let's look at his 2nd (?) heart event at the Stardrop Saloon. He comes up to the bar, finds himself in the mood for company, and orders wine for you and ale for himself. 
New Headcanon:
That little crab still lives there! It will probably live there long after you two get married. And he will feed it scraps from the dinner table even though you ask him not to.
Whatever...Sounds Cute. 
My first reaction to that was: “aw, wHaT a GeNtLemAn!!!”. My second reaction was my inner feminist having a temper tantrum because: “how dare a man, to assume what I want to drink!” 
New Headcanon on Elliott and gender roles, anyone? Or is it given, that with him being a good old fashioned lover boy, his expectation on any relationship dynamic might be more traditional?
As much as I find Elliott charming and all, this could be a great red flag and, again, beautiful material for character-conflict. Maybe Elliott needs to learn to not take everything at face value. Maybe he needs to learn, how to take a joke. Especially those made at his expense.
However, when the question arises, what the two of you should drink on, he will not laugh if you say “your doom”.
This is not something he sees as sarcasm or as a joke. In fact, you lose 50 friendship points! Like holy shit. That in itself is not much, but its a game-penalty. He is actively reacting negatively toward you. This is one of the few times, where your decision actively has an impact on the friendship-metre. Of course, that statement could be delivered in a non-joking matter. Which then justifies his reaction.... sure.
But even the fact that Elliott chooses, to not downplay or gloss-over your comment, leaves me with the following interpretation:
He hoped for a charming, flirtatious interaction. All you had to do, was to play along. But you ruined it.
Just imagine a situation with a little bit of miss-communication and a version of Elliott that is a little too proud for his own good and *chef's kiss* we have drama.
Me to Elliott and Farmer-OC: fight! fight! fight! fight! :D
All of you reading right now:
omg can't you just chill??? We are here for the fluff :(((
Also: depending on how it's written, that could be one of Elliott's major character flaws. The one that is not cute at all!
__________________________
I wanted to take some jabs at Elliott's likes and dislikes. But as it turned out: Yes, you can turn Duck feathers into quills. I had this funny headcanon that Elliott wanted to be extra special by choosing duck feathers as his preferred writing instrument. And I was all like: “use a pen!!”.
But then I found out about the Unobtainable Weapons-List and Elliott’s pen is one of them. Okay, whatever. 
And then I asked google how to make quills. And while duck feathers are not the preferred or most popular option, there is also nothing that would speak against it, as long as the feather’s shaft is durable enough. So that theory has flown out of the window pretty quickly as well.
The only thing that comes to my mind instead is, how Elliott would still need a digital manuscript for publishing. But me screaming: “Where is your Laptop Elliott??? You need a computer! Its the 21 century!!!” is not half that funny anymore.
I guess I’ll end it here.
I hope you enjoyed this completely useless stream of consciousness.
I will now continue playing Stardew Valley and indulge in all my other quarantine-born obsessions.
I wish you a wonderful day and happy farming.
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