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#and show your power through your vote
getawayheaven · 1 year
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the-trans-dragon · 1 year
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#I wonder if the people who are about to allow the bill through its first reading are sleeping soundly. I wonder what they’ll#eat for breakfast. how do they go about getting dressed? do they stare into their sock drawer and feel a terrifying dread about the bill?#are they as afraid of it failing as I am afraid of it passing?#do they at least think they’re doing the right thing? do they think they’re acting for the greater good?#is it just malice in their heart? anger?#do you think they’ll let it through because of adamant passion? do you think they don’t really care and they’re just doing what#they think their friends would like?#will they shrug at any outcome? would they celebrate with friends and handshakes and toasts? if it fails do you think they’ll go home and#weep at the lack of control they have over their world? will they wonder if they should move somewhere more tolerant of their transphobia?#do you think they have a specific trans person in mind as they let the bill through?#are they remembering a specific person? are they thinking ‘this bill needs to pass so my kids don’t end up like that’?#I wonder if they’ve ever been a customer in my store. I wonder if I helped them. I wonder if they took a look at me and#decided ‘I cannot allow this kind of sin to exist.’ what if I motivated them with my upsetting little existence?#I’ve seen so many old men in expensive suits. I’ve embarrassed them by carrying their things to their car because they didn’t realize a GIRL#would show up to do it. how many times have I heard ‘oh YOURE carrying it? I was expending a strapping young man!’#maybe they just saw me for a moment and thought ‘oh god what an ugly dyke. this is why transgendering should be banned.’?#I don’t understand why they get to make decisions like this for me. It isn’t even a vote. they’ll go to work and do their job: determine#whether I am allowed to exist or not. I’ll go to work and do my job: be a cashier and be nothing else.#they have the power to determine my entire life. I couldn’t even refuse to help them if they came to my job.#maybe they’ll even stop by after work and check out at my register and they’ll be polite for the sake of convenience and I’ll be polite too#and they’ll leave and think ‘thank goodness people#like that won’t be allowed to change their bodies anymore. I hope she’s able to be normal and make a good wife for someone and stop this.’#sorenhoots
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weaselle · 1 year
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i wanna do a thing where i lay out studies that show things in different primates that show us parts of ourselves as humans. Call it Primates: Through the Looking Glass or The Monkey in the Mirror or something
There are studies and documentaries that show things about Gorillas, Chimpanzees, Bonobos, Baboons, Macaques... that just make sense to me. That if shown right would make sense to a lot of people, i think.
like... they were studying this one group of gorillas --
okay wait. First of all, you know a silverback (the Big Male) of the group is not the leader or in charge or anything, right? He has a role, and it includes a certain amount of control, which i’ll explain briefly, but he’s not, like, in charge.
wait, you know all that Dominance/Alpha theory about wolves is all wrong, right?
wait wait wait, and also that like, the bull or the stag or whatever in a herd is not in charge of anything, right? right?
hold on. the wolves is it’s own post, the herd thing i might get back to, we’re on gorillas, okay. Silverback is basically just the male head of an extended family in which plenty of the leadership is handled by the women of the family.
There are often 2-4 silverbacks, but one, usually the largest, will clearly be senior to the others who are often his sons or brothers. Silverbacks have three main roles
1: defend the group from all physical threats aside from people, these threats are mostly random male gorillas, chimpanzee baby-snatching gangs, and the occasional leopard. Just his alert presence handles most scenarios, and then maybe a few times a year he has to risk his life fulfilling this responsibility. It is this role that provides most of whatever actual power he has over the group, namely this: while he isn’t necessarily the one deciding when and where the group goes on a daily basis, if the most powerful/capable silverback does decide to travel a direction, they pretty much have to go with him, the family isn’t safe without him.
2: make babies. And this is one area where the ladies of the group will sometimes sort of vote with their ovaries, and favor a silverback that isn’t the main one, like “yeah, Frank, you are the biggest, but honestly you’re a dick and we’re going to make sure the next generation of silverbacks isn’t another one of you.” When you see a main large silverback in a group of gorillas, it isn’t, like, his blindly loyal harem, they have to approve of him. Also gorilla females move between groups, and sometimes they take members with them or start new groups and stuff. Anyway i’m getting off track, one of the silverbacks jobs is making babies
3. keep the peace This functions a lot like being in the back seat with your siblings with your parents up front. Basically any disputes within the group have to be handled within a certain parameter of decorum, because if it gets too out of hand HE’s going to come over, and He’ll be upset, which is low-key terrifying because He’s huge, and there’s no telling who He’ll decide is at fault or what he’ll do about it, so letting a situation get out of hand is a losing scenario for everyone involved really. Tho typically he will favor senior females in disputes, in a “don’t you talk that way to your mom” kind of way.
one last thing, silverbacks don’t actually transfer power between silverbacks via battle every time.
Like i was just reading accounts from a multi-generational observational study of some wild gorillas that featured one big silverback just straight up taking over by performing the silverback duties better and becoming preferred by everyone else in the group. There was no fight, it just became, i do the job better, everyone likes me better, kicking my ass can’t change that, and boom, he was the primary silverback. And the other silverback might have been a bit dull, or a bit of a bully, but like us their species’ success is largely dependent on social intelligence; once he saw the writing on the wall, that other, slightly larger sivlerback didn’t even bother trying to change the situation with a physical fight, he understood what had happened.
okay so all that was just to tell you all this story. lol. Here’s what i saw in one documentary:
This very big, getting old silverback, who was hugely popular and successful, with a very large and tightly bonded family group, and a couple of his hulking adult sons backing him up. Everybody in his group seemed to love him a lot, he was particularly calm in that gentle giant sort of way, a safe, emotionally steady presence, happy to help raise his sons and daughters with kindness, and who could become a raging nightmare if pressed by a leopard ... exactly what a band of gorillas wants in a silverback.
But one of his adult sons had plenty of silver on his own back, and was getting itchier and itchier to be main man of the group, and this is where we start our little drama
It seems to be coming to a head, and the observers are nervous about a fight for the position. The silverback and his son are both are huge, probably approaching 400lbs, mostly muscle, with long thick fangs and skulls topped with jaw muscles as big as human biceps to wield those teeth, which nature has given them primarily to fight other gorillas with. 
But then the next day, the old man leads the fam up the mountain.
it’s winter, which is why they have come down the mountain in the first place. But as we discussed, if he goes somewhere, they have to go, so they all follow behind.
up he goes, and then he sits. And waits. It’s cold and there is much less food up here at this time of year. There’s nothing to do but sit hungry in the cold. His size and metabolism makes him the most able to withstand the cold, but even he is pretty uncomfortable. 
And so he sits. And his family, perhaps confused, but loyal, sits around him.
But his son, the other huge silverback, with years of training even as an adult under his wise father, is ready and able to go off on his own. Finally, he stands up, makes clear his intentions to leave this uncomfortable place. A small handful of the other gorillas stand with him -- if he goes down the mountain, then they can safely leave as well. He turns and heads down the mountain. After a moment, a few more gorillas leave the main group to follow. All in all it winds up being nearly half.
The wise older silverback thoughtfully watches his son leave with about half the group. He sits a while longer in the cold, in the company of those most loyal to him, and then takes them along a different path down the mountain
And those two groups still ran into each other sometimes, and were friendly. And sometimes a couple gorillas would change between the two groups. They were still close.
But i just thought that was such an elegant, meaningful way for that gorilla to handle that whole situation. And it makes a completely human sort of sense to me. 
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queenpiranhadon · 1 month
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𖤓⎸⎸ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⎸⎸𖤓
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A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll, and after a LOT of voting, I present you this :) BIG thanks to @that-multi-fandom-hijabi for beta reading this go follow her writing acc rn (@novaaaaaa-writes). Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune
Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of burning, stabbing, blood, bad descriptions of both fire of water (ice, snow ?) bending, Zuko is whipped, just a little confused about it, reader is a baddie, water benders unite (not me tho), reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind, reader looks non-threatening, is underestimated a lot, this takes place at the end of season one, I think that's it
Pairing: Prince Zuko x GN!Reader
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“You shouldn’t be here” you glare, your gaze sending shivers down his spine. 
But that could just be because of all the snow and ice surrounding the both of you. 
The fire prince remains unfazed though, his amber eyes sweeping over your form- assessing the threat you posed. 
He could take you down in seconds. 
Zuko doesn’t respond to your jab though, because he knew you were wrong. He had to be here, it was the only way he could finally receive his father’s favor- as the heir and as the son of Firelord Ozai. It was his duty, his honor. 
And he wasn’t going to let a non-threatening waterbender get in the way of that. 
Reaching back, he unsheathes his dual swords, the glint of the waning moonlight reflecting the dangerous glint in his eye. 
And yet you didn’t back down.  
Pooling some water from your waterskin, you assumed the stance you had trained yourself to take whenever you honed your skills. One with the water, one with the ice.  
‘Power should flow, not force itself” Master Pakku had told you once.  
People had always underestimated your skills, saying you were better suited for healing. But after showing Master Pakku how you could use your bending to control the falling snow around you, he gave you a chance.  
He had told you to let the power settle in your body before releasing, instead of forcing it out immediately. Conceal and then control. 
You met Zuko’s fiery gaze with an icy one of your own. You were going to protect your home.  
With a yell, you form flurries of snow, whipping around your form as you channel your strength to change the form of your flurry, snow turning to water, water turning to sharp daggers of pure ice.  
Zuko scowls, setting his hands ablaze and you run at each other, fire meeting ice.  
Time slows down, as the intensity of your elements picks up, until all you could hear was the steady thump – thump – thump – of your heart, and the roar of crystalline knives swirling around you. 
Flames lick the side of your leg, wincing as the raw burn of the fire sears through your skin in white-hot pain. Razor sharp icy shards cut into Zuko’s skin, finding chinks in his armor, piercing his flesh and drawing blood. 
The snow beneath the both of you was dotted red now, both of you staring at each other, panting heavily.  
“You really shouldn’t be here.” you repeat again, but this time, it was barely a whisper, swallowing down tears as the cold wind of the Northern Water Tribe stung your gaping wounds. 
Zuko growls, grunting in pain as he pulls a shard of ice out of his skin. “I don’t take orders from a little waterbender” he spat, venom dripping from his words. 
You reciprocate with a snide comment of your own. “This ‘little waterbender’ just sunk 5 icicles into your skin.” 
Zuko was just about ready to tear your head off, hands igniting with vermillion flames before you collapse, the burns along your thigh and calf were much more severe than either of you realized.  
You choke out a sob of pain but keep your control of the water left in your waterskin. You couldn’t die, not today, and not at the hands of the prince of the Fire Nation.  
Zuko’s heart throbs unexpectedly, the look on your face too familiar for comfort. The face of someone who worked so desperately hard, only for all that effort to go down the drain. But he didn’t care for you. He couldn’t- couldn’t grow attachment to a non-threatening waterbender. Yet you sat there on the snow, dotted with blood, with that raw look in your eyes. His flames extinguished, without him meaning to.  
You flinched as he threw his swords down frustrated, impaling themselves into the nearby snow mound, standing straight up. 
He stomps over to you, and you frantically move back, but your leg flares up in pain again, and you yelp, hissing in pain. 
“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse.” he says, glaring at you, but not as intensely as he had before.  
You want to scream, kick him, punch him, anything, but your body betrays you as he sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you to the nearest place he can find, where he can keep you safe. You feel his strong arms hook under your knees and under your back, holding you securely to his firm chest. Even through his armor, he radiates warmth, a gentle heat, unlike the flames he threw at you merely minutes ago.  
He hates this, with every fiber in my being, his voice screaming at him to drop you and burn your frail body to a crisp, vengeance for the blood dripping from his own body, but he keeps moving, step after painstaking step. 
You try to stay awake, you really do, yet channeling so much energy from your battle, the numb throb in your lower leg, and the comforting heat radiating off the fire prince who refuses to look at you, you slip into unconsciousness.  
Zuko feels a weight press against his chest, and he huffs, honey-colored eyes catching onto the details of your face, the curve of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the slight pout of your lips as you nuzzle into his armor unintentionally, how pretty you were when you were at peace. 
He stops himself there, reprimanding himself for thinking such things. He can’t have feelings for the enemy. 
And yet, even as he and his troops head home, battle wearing and dejected from the loss of a major battle, Zuko can’t help but think about his little waterbender.  
*** 
When you wake up, the kind woman tending to you tells you all about the mysterious and handsome man who carried your sleeping form across the entire Northern Water Tribe because he didn’t know where the healing center was.  
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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4
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Propaganda
Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):
#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show
We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:
Young hot rocker dilf
Loyal to his dead wife <3
Does in fact smoke weed
BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)
His band was a Christmas cover band btw.
Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy
Anti government (ofc)
Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)
Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??
Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch
One incredibly buff arm
Has a pet rat named after his son <3
Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged
OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE
HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON
A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)
HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS
IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED
Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence
Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!
I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.
Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting
I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.
Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so
HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.
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Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.
Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.
Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):
Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako
Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans
LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.
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hedgehog-moss · 1 year
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On the eve of planned nationwide demonstrations, I want to offer an overview of the ways the protests in France are being handled by the government so far (and if what you’ve heard is that this is over a 2 year increase in retirement age, please do take a minute to read this post to get a better idea of the context)
1. In Paris on March 21, a CRS (cop) threw a tear gas grenade in the air towards protesters (they’re supposed to throw them near the ground); the grenade landed and exploded on a protester’s head. (x)
2. Massive use of tear gas at every protest, on this vid from March 17 you can see the Place de la Concorde (largest public square in Paris) drowned in tear gas. (x)
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3. In Paris on March 20, video of a CRS with a baton hitting protesters who are cowering against a wall (x)
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4. CRS grabbing demonstrators in (illegal) chokeholds and dragging them by the neck (x)
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5. In Strasbourg on March 21, police trapped about a hundred protesters in a narrow alleyway and tear gassed them from both ends of the alley so they couldn’t escape; an asthmatic person lost consciousness; people who lived there opened their doors and let the protesters enter their houses to get to safety. (x)
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6. In Paris on March 20, a CRS shot a protester with an LBD riot gun (rubber bullets) and shouted at him “Pick up your balls now, fucker” (x) (an allusion to the several instances in recent years of protesters having testicle injuries from LBD guns - and non-protesters too, in 2015 a Muslim teenage boy lost a testicle after being shot by a cop with rubber bullets when he was shooting firecrackers in a park on July 14th / Bastille day). A few seconds later in the video another CRS tells the one who said that “careful there’s a camera”
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7. In Paris on March 21, a group of 4 or 5 CRS who were dispersing demonstrators, threw a homeless man to the ground who had been shouting at them (hard to hear what he said, the first sentence is “How can you do this job?”), kicking him in the head while he was down and mocking him when he couldn’t get up, calling him a ‘fatso’ and ‘sack of shit’ (the woman you can hear at the end of the video is yelling at the CRS to help the guy get up and telling them “do you lack humanity to this point?”) (x)
8. That same day Macron gave a speech on TV in which he said “the crowd [= the protesters] has no legitimacy against the people, who express themselves through their elected representatives” even though he passed his reform without a vote from the elected representatives—and considering polls show the vast majority (>70%) of the country is against the reform, the “people” and the “crowd” are one and the same. Today (March 22) he gave another TV speech in which he compared what’s happening in France right now to the January 6 US capitol attack.
9. During today’s speech Macron also said “minimum-wage workers have never seen such an increase in purchasing power” which is a mad thing to say in the middle of a cost of living crisis, and he used the term ‘smicard’ in this sentence— the minimum wage in France is called the SMIC and smicard is a derogatory word for minimum-wage workers. He decried the “extreme, unregulated violence” of protesters but had nothing to say about the unregulated violence of his police forces, and instead stoked the fire with contemptuous language that angers people the day before a planned mass protest.
10. Hundreds of protesters (and even people who weren’t protesting but just nearby) have been arrested and taken into custody in “preventative arrests”; the vast majority were then released due to “absence of an offence.” Here’s a thread by a woman who was arrested in Paris along with 11 other women (one was a 17 year-old girl) for taking part in a peaceful protest. They spent 20 hours all in one cell, were only allowed to go to the toilet if they left the door open, were frisked and had their fingerprints and DNA samples taken. Also, in Nantes on March 14, four young women age 18-20 reported having been sexually assaulted by police during body searches while participating in a student protest.
And a thread by a 19-year-old Black student who spent 48 hours in custody last week along with 4 other people who were arrested in Paris as they were walking down the street. Lots of racist shit in this thread. He had already spent 14 hours in custody after a protest a couple of days before, and ended up being charged for refusing to have his DNA samples taken.
This article in Le Monde from yesterday (it’s in French and unfortunately paywalled) talks about people who took part in last week’s protests having been handcuffed and searched in their underwear then released free of charges the next day; a lawyer comments how this is clearly meant to discourage people from demonstrating. The article also mentions two 15 year old Austrian boys who were on a class trip to Paris and were rounded up with a group of demonstrators, so the Austrian embassy had to intervene. (Journalist mentions sarcastically “We don’t know if these high schoolers’ DNA samples were taken.”)
11. There are videos from various protests of journalists wearing the press armband being threatened, hit, or shoved to the ground by police. In Montpellier yesterday, a journalist took this photo as a CRS was pointing his rubber bullet gun at his head and another was running at him with his baton telling him “I don’t give a fuck about your press card” —the photographer managed to run away. (x)
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This is all from the past ten days (and mostly from the past two days) and far from an exhaustive list, there's so much outrageous stuff happening (like the Minister of the Interior lying and saying participating in an undeclared demonstration is illegal, when it’s not) but it gives a good idea of what French democracy looks like under Macron. The above photo says it all really. And thank you to all the people who continue taking part in the protests and strikes.
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pinkchrissysposts · 30 days
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||☆•2 week affirmation challenge for beginners•☆||~(request)
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<Hey guy it's been quite while,I shifted for a whole month(which will be 2 days here in my CR) in Koizora DR,for a break from my CR,anyways from the result from today's votes,>
Firstly something we all struggle as beginner to manifest is,obsession,desperation,doubts, procrastation and methods. But guys don't worry it's just a normal phase everyone go through after knowing that we can HAVE ANYTHING we want,logical or illogical. But here me out you don't have to force yourself to get completely rid of those negative,because they are always gonna come up,what YOU have to do is be in control of those thoughts,which mean don't let those thoughts guide you to get in a state of lack. You are more power then that so,flip that shit and focus on the new thought or new story.
I get as someone new to law you will be confuse on what to do,or what to manifest,but the most common is thinking HOW. How do I start,"how do I manifest it into my life?","how is it even possible,will it work for me?". It definitely will you've been manifesting your whole life,but since you are new that's why you're finding it hard to manifest. But let me tell you it's simple,if you are not able to embody state,use SATS,being etc.
So here is the routine you have to follow for the next 2 weeks.
🥗. Create a Pinterest vision board look at it,everytime you feel like you need external validation,or motivation.
🥗. Start your day with affirmations,and use this subliminal and loop it as you affirm. Use the sub atleast 1 hour or more while doing your morning routine and robotically affirming.
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🥗. Now robotically affirm as you go on with your day. You can talk with others don't have to shut the world out as Sammy said. Or you can do 30 minutes affirmation 1 hour rest session.
🥗. On free time use this morphic field and continue affirming for atleat 30 minutes headphones are not needed foe morphic field so no need to use one since Sapien recommended himself. Also do atleast a proper 1-2 hour saturation session,you can also do other activities.
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🥗. OK you have come so far don't give up take some breaks in between.
🥗. At night use these two subs by SLADE,and fall asleep as you affirm. You can loop is overnight too but it's upto you how long you want to use it.
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🍋‍🟩That's it so let's see in brief.
★. Affirm as you wake up with the subliminal above.
★. Affirm for 30 minutes and take 1 hour rest or do robotic affirming the whole day.
★. On your free time use morphic field and do a proper saturation session of 1-2 hour.
★. As you fall asleep use two subs and loop it as you affirm to sleep.
Also you don't have to worry about all the emotions you feel,you wanna cry then cry,feeling guilty it's fine,feeling desperate it's fine. Let the emotions pass,people have affirmed while crying,to the point they throw up(me💀) with desperatation,you can obsess over your desires it'snot a big crime. But the biggest crime is not persisting and checking 3D also procrastinating. Also don't get discourage if 3d shows you something you don't like affirm against it because you are more powerfull then those thoughts.
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spectralreplica · 1 year
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Uhhhhhhhh Sburb AU!! This was more of an excuse to classpect and make sprites, so don’t ask me questions about plot details because I put like zero thought into it. Tsumugi probably had something to do with setting up the session, and she’s hiding her real title and the fact it’s not her first session. Baby Kiibo is a robot baby because I thought that was the funniest option.
Drawing with anti-aliasing off really brings me back...
Classpect thoughts under the cut if you really want:
Immediate caveat: I mention speculative stuff here like unconfirmed active/passive class pairs and inversion theory. If you don’t like those things or otherwise disagree with the titles I gave people that’s fine but just know I’m not super interested in debating about it and won’t reply.
So, to start out with I wanted to make the 8 of them a session, so I needed no overlaps in class or aspect and one Time + one Space. I also wanted to have Kaito and Kokichi as opposing aspects. In general, I think of a Title as kind of the end of your assigned character arc, so depending on your level of maturity/introspection at the start, it can seem either really obvious or really unintuitive. I tried to base them off of the hypothetical chapter 6/survivor versions of characters, since those (plus maybe the chapter 5 deaths) of the ones that get a full arc in DR canon.
Immediately Tsumugi seemed like a deadringer for Space, not so much because of the literal physics-related stuff but because of its associations with creation/narratives and setting things up for other people to act. I made her Sylph of Space here, but that's a facade. She's actually a Muse of Space who participated in past session(s) and wants to watch how things play out.
Based on the Extended Zodiac description, Kaito or Kaede has to be time, but Kokichi CANNOT be Space by any stretch of the imagination. I made her Heir of Time with the interpretation of Heir as someone who invites change/influences of/through their aspect. Time is also associated with music and death, which is both fitting and a little mean. (I can also see Kaede as Breath outside of having to have someone be Time.)
So moving onto Kaito and Kokichi, I was considering Hope vs Rage (belief vs doubt, possibility vs restrictions), but 1) Rage is defined partially by hatred of lies despite otherwise sounding Kokichi-ish (that alone could be interesting, with the possibility of a negative/reverse title or else giving him Hope and Kaito Rage for the unexpected swerve........) 2) I really wanted to give Hope to Kiibo. So instead I went with Heart and Mind (emotion vs logic, intuition vs planning, identity/motivation vs action/decisiveness).
Kokichi is Thief of Mind for taking away other people's decisions for his own purposes but also for generally "stealing" things (e.g., the Mastermind Role, narrative importance in general, along with literal items) through his own cleverness. Vs Kaito, a Knight of Heart, who uses his constructed identity as a weapon to face challenges. I'm also a fan of inversion theory, so I think at low points they'd both trend towards Page of Heart (grows powerful late in the narrative based on his own ego/identity) and Rogue of Mind (taking choices/agency/logic away from people for their own good), respectively.
I always wanted Kiibo to be Hope since 1) Ult. Hope Robot 2) big on possibilities/faith but can be a little self-centered. I went with Bard at least partially to make a "guess we know whether he has a dick or not now!" joke, but I also think "inviting destruction through Hope, inviting destruction of (false) hope" is pretty spot on for chapter 6 Kiibo. Like, as the camera/audience surrogate, he's been forced into passively leading the others to despair, not to mention how the audience takes him over to destroy the hope of ending the show. But Kiibo ends up reversing this and helping destroy the audience's faith in Danganronpa, destroying the whole academy in accordance with the vote. (Sidenote: I wonder if Kiibo gets taken over by Horrorterrors and goes grimdark? Or if he's just really, really susceptible to orders from his Exile)
Shuichi, Page of Void, was another one that immediately came to mind. Like, "starts off weak but becomes really strong/important by the end" is Shuichi's thing! Also, counterpart to Kaito's Knight. And Void is all about secrets, mystery, etc. From the Extended Zodiac: "Where others might be compelled to go out and seek answers, the Void-bound lean more toward casting doubt on what is already considered understood. They don't take much on faith and would rather live in a state of confusion- than believe something that might be untrue or bow to intellectual authority... At their best, Void-bound are wise, intuitive, and vibrant. At their worst, they can be dismissive, indecisive and apathetic." 
I had considering Light, for seeking out knowledge/truth, but Shuichi's character arc ends on "fuck you, I refuse to play. You all get nothing more from us" and learning to live with ambiguity, so I think he's way more Void. But, again, inversion would be Thief of Light, so selfishly taking away knowledge/importance from others.
Speaking of Light, I made Miu Mage of Light. Mage is like, active Seer, seeking out knowledge for yourself (vs advising others) and Light is luck, knowledge, and also importance/plot relevance. As an inventor, Miu keeps innovating and figuring things out, plus she's very motivated by her own importance to the world. She wants to be seen more than anything else and loves being smarter than those around her. Also: "At their best, the Light-bound are resourceful and driven. At their worst they can be fussy, pedantic, and insensitive." Inversion is Heir of Void, so "inviting change via hiding things" or "changing what's kept secret", which suits Miu when plotting murder.
Finally, Maki is Prince of Blood. Blood is trust, bonds, relationships, stubbornness, duty, obligation (vs freedom, change, choices) so "someone who breaks bonds/destroys relationships" but also "someone who destroys using/motivated by duty/relationships". Like, Maki is inherently a fracture point in the group because of her talent and then directly breaks the group apart and sabotages her relationships with the others in chapter 5, but also she's deeply motivated by her bonds to others in all of her destructive actions (protectiveness for orphanage/friend, love for Kaito). This sound super negative, but I think this is also the Maki who commits to destroying the institution of Danganronpa in chapter 6. Sometimes you have to be decisive and cut bad relationships out of your life.
Inversion would be Sylph of Breath, so "healing via change" or "encouraging growth towards freedom", which you can argue is sort of the way Kaito wants her to go? But she just doesn't. Idk, for better or worse, I think Maki is very aware of who she is and how people related to her, so even at her worst she's true to herself, vs, say, Kaito or Kokichi, who act "ooc".
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buckyssexcmetalarm · 1 year
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the truly annoying thing about the eurovision voting system (cough cough the jury) is that televoters PAY to vote for the winner. you’ve got people all over the world literally coughing up money per vote to show support to an artist and the jury STILL HAS MORE POWER. isn’t the entire point of eurovision entertainment for the viewer and “uniting the world through music”? how are you encouraging people to watch your show when their supposed say in the winner (which you charge them for) means nothing in light of the overly political jury system where countries get points regardless of their song or performance? how is it appealing to crown the winner as someone who wasn’t the most popular with the audience just because the jury bolstered them with points?
anyway cha cha cha as always
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moongreenlight · 6 months
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Ptolemaea P. 1- Huntsman!Ghost x Runaway Princess!Reader
CW: BRIEF mentions of animal death, description of gore and violence, noncon implied. No smut yet.
Your kingdom was once powerful, revered by others for its political prowess and strong army, but it does not have the sway it once did. Hordes of wealth dwindled into something unrecognizable. Subjects growing poorer and more restless with only wormy apples and stinking meat and moth-eaten fabrics to barter at the market. War raging to the East, word of civil unrest in the West. Your father was left with few other options than to auction off what little possessions of worth he had left.
He was given four daughters, you, the youngest and the last to be married off. Sold like swine to the highest bidder with no consideration for character or condition.
All your other sisters went gracefully save for a few tearful goodbyes in the privacy of their quarters. Bowed heads pushed together, shaking hands clutching and grabbing at others for stability. Weeping softly for the loss of company, for the fate that awaited them, for the mystery of when you’d be reunited. Four, then three, then two, now one.
You’d been trussed up in your best dresses and jewelry. Made a spectacle of for a few days as suitors came and went from the great hall. Slobbering their way through promises of riches or alliance or armies in an attempt to win your father’s favor.
Their eyes were wild and hungry when they threw spare glances at you. Lecherous smiles showed sharp, clenched teeth. And each offer of an extra five men to an army or hundred gold pieces more than the last brought you closer to being shoved to their chests. A twine-wrapped packet of mutton scraps tossed to a pack of starving dogs.
It was a heavy feeling, sinking ever deeper as each new suitor strutted down the long walk toward you. Peacocking and vying for favor. You imagined it felt like watching the executioner approach the stand while you waited with your head laid on the chopping block.
You’d read your sister’s letters after they left. Poured over every word and learned of their new realities. Their dogs and horses slaughtered, gowns burned, all former possessions seized and thrown to the river to be replaced with tokens of their new kingdoms. Branded over their old marks like cattle in a trade. You noticed that as the weeks and months drew by, the letters became more and more censored. Stopped detailing the further horrors and discomforts they faced at the hands of their husband and opted to regale you with detailed descriptions of their gardens or their plans for children.
The same wretched sickness you felt when you read the letters ate its way into your belly as you watched the funeral procession of suitors and remembered the way your sisters’ neat, loopy writing slowly turned into something rushed and sloppy. You imagined the way it would happen to you.
Perfect cursive lettering that had been learned to you for years by a sour schoolmarm that rapped your knuckles with a ruler when you dawdled during your lessons shoved from your mind to make room for brainwashing. You sat on your hands and dug your nails into your palms until they bent backward to keep your attention away from the scream packing itself into your chest.
You were promised to a king from the South. Some larger country near the capitol that wielded far more power than your kingdom, even at its pinnacle. The new king brought to you from across the channel because of his surliness. You’d heard stories of him whispered among the maids. He was cruel and choleric by all accounts. Not to mention fat and old and ugly and impatient to produce an heir. Made it all but impossible for him to find a bride.
He brought lavish gifts with him to sway the vote. Chestfuls of diamonds and precious stones and gold that his men laid at your father’s feet. Thick furs, expensive perfumes, and silks in colors you’d only ever heard of for your mother. A new dress in his kingdom’s colors for you.
You were escorted from the room by your father’s guard when he began negotiating a deal with the new king. You’d tried to sink your slippers into the stone, tried to kick and scream your desperation for your father to reconsider. But you were thrown from the room. Dragged out under the armpits by knights whose armor shone so brightly you were able to see your teary, crumpled form on the floor reflected in their chest plates before the heavy door was snapped shut on your nose.
You heard your maids and the castle guards whispering after the new king left. Saw your mother gracefully swipe away a single tear after dinner when she kissed you goodnight. The new king’s guard would be by early the next morning to snatch you up. The narrative you knew to be true only confirmed further by gossip. Two or three days of showboating, a decision made, negotiations, and then the next sunrise another sister is plucked up.
So you waited until darkness was cast over the castle. Until you were certain your maids and the guards at your door had gone to their own quarters for a few hours rest. You made your escape barefoot and in your thin nightdress. Stole one of your mother’s new fur cloaks to help protect yourself from the bitter cold that had settled over the land. Padded down the winding halls and staircases until you were able to slip through the grand double doors of the front. Evaded the indolent guards that were no doubt sneaking a smoke or a nap in the garden and moved quickly down the path to the stables. Tacked your horse with a knight’s saddle and took off into the night.
It took no more than four hours for the castle to know of your absence. Your maid had gone to wake you up in the wee hours of the morning, pack a bag before you were picked up by your new husband, and all but flew to your father’s quarters to alert him of your empty bed. It wasn’t half six before both your father’s and the new king’s men were set out on the land in search of you. Horses and hounds kicking frost off the lawn as the sun rose.
You managed three days without capture. Traveled through the skirts of the forest. Slept for a few hours at a time huddled close to the belly of your horse wrapped in your fur cloak. Ventured into small villages and cities to see if you couldn’t convince a vendor to spare you a cup of soup or a stale loaf of bread. Heard snippets of the news of the nearest kingdom who’d lost their last princess and tucked your chin close to your chest on your ride out.
The deep woods were unforgiving. Thin, winding paths that connected kingdoms littered with wolves and marauders and hunters. It was safer to stick to the edges where trees were younger and light could still filter in. Moving West as long as you could with no real plan as to what the permanence of your situation could look like. Maybe find a city far enough away from your kingdom to settle. It was a half-cooked idea from the beginning, you knew that. Born out of fear and anxiety and bull-headedness. Freedom without direction was better than being forced into the arms of a man that would sooner cage you like an animal than see you leave.
So you followed the wood and the few slow-flowing creeks that were not dammed by slush or ice. Kept your head on a swivel and your guard up. Anyone you ran into was presumed foe, so you set a punishing pace to minimize the chance of an encounter.
It was an act of desperation when your father called on a huntsman. Needy for the power trade tied to the contract of your marriage and looking to stop the simmering of his people under him from boiling over. His guards had returned in couples every few hours to give him bad news. They’d sent ravens to ally cities asking them to look for you and still they’ve come up empty.
Ghost refused to meet with your father or the new king directly. Sent a tawny hawk with a scroll tied to its leg that detailed the conditions of his employment. Your father promised anything for the return of his youngest princess. The new king offered obscene riches and painted whores. And privately, in a post script penned in tiny font on the back of the scroll, he promised an opportunity for Ghost to lay with you after you’d produced an heir.
Ghost sent his hawk back a few hours later. His letter was short, only responding to your father like he couldn’t be arsed with the superficial promises of the new king. He requests ten gold pieces, some of your perfume, and a cutting of fabric from one of your dirtied gowns.
It’s the eve of your fourth day out before you run into trouble. Great plumes of thick black smoke alert you to either a brush fire or a village close off your side and it drives you further into the forest. You move slowly through the dusk, even slower as the light stops being able to filter through the dense leaves and branches. The ground is lost to darkness, and you’d already made the mistake of trying to stumble your way over the uneven terrain barefoot, so you opt to stay on your horse’s back until you find a clearing to settle in.
In the blanketed silence of the wood, it was easy to remember how alone you were. How defenseless. You cursed yourself every night for not swiping a kitchen knife or a hunting blade so that you had some security. Not that either would have done you much good, but it would have served to give you some peace of mind.
You were torn from your thoughts when you heard heavy footfalls in a thicket a few yards in front of you. Snapping of felled branches, two low voices carried to you on a breath of wind. You stopped your horse and tried to lay down close to its back, tuck your head in behind its big neck. You held your breath as the voices grew closer, tried to will your shivering muscles to still. But your horse is a massive beast; stark white and practically spotlighted by the faint light of the moon. It did nothing to hide you.
You weren’t sure if the men were poachers or thieves or member’s of the guard patrolling the area for you. It really didn’t matter because everything happened so fast. There was the distinctive thwack of an arrow burying itself in the tree just next to you. Bark exploded out like a bomb, grazing your cheek and spooking your horse. Somewhere in the chaos of the shouting of the men, and the hurried sounds of boots trampling crisp leaves and your lame sounding yelp of surprise, you were thrown from your horse. Sent crashing to the ground and landing so hard on your back that it knocked the wind out of you and left your vision spotted.
You would have cried out if you had any air left in your lungs. Your chest was burning. Legs weak and awkward from hours on hours of riding. All you could do was scramble back. Bury your fingers deep as you could into the semi-frozen earth and try to drag yourself away. Gasping for air, blinking away the flashes and pops of darkness that camouflaged your assailants.
You hit something hard, knocked your head on it in your rush and nearly went unconscious. It made your ears ring, adding yet another layer of distortion to your senses. A tree, probably. Or a boulder. You recoiled, pulling your knees to your chest and trying to make yourself small under the mass. Tried to make out where the footsteps and the muffled shouting were coming from. Your shaking hands felt clumsily along the ground, looking for anything you could use to defend yourself. A rock, a stick, a hard clump of mud.
There was a flurry of movement from a few yards in front of you, specifics of limbs or bodies lost to the inky darkness. And then your hands found something large and warm. Disturbingly so. Maybe a rodent or a stray animal caught in the crossfire. It takes two hands to lift the thing. You bring it closer to see if swinging the carcass of what could have been a hefty pest would provide you any defense.
Not an opossum or a raccoon struck down by an arrow. Not quite. It’s the head of a man. His face stuck eternally in a look of putrid shock. Mouth gaped wide, eyes bugging out, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. He’s got a decent stump of what used to be his neck. Hot blood trailed down your wrists and arms and dripped onto your nightdress.
Someone was screaming. A tortured, twisted sound coming more and more clearly to you as you caught your bearings. The kind of mangled cry that tore its way up out of someone’s throat so ferociously that you were sure you could feel it in your own chest as well. The kind of scream that left your tongue bitter and filmed with iron.
You’re not sure where it’s coming from, but it’s loud. Almost deafeningly so. You wish it would stop. Wish whoever was making such a spectacle would realize the severity of the situation and pull themselves together for a moment so you could think. Maybe you’d find them and work together to get out of this mess. Get away from the forest and find your horse and get back on your path.
You think that maybe it’s the head still clutched in your hands. You remember a cook telling you stories when you were young about how the chickens from the farmers used to be able to run around for nearly eight minutes after they’d been decapitated. You wondered if their heads still squawked after they were severed. You wondered if humans operated the same way. If this poor man’s body was stumbling around meters away in search of his head.
A big hand clamps over your jaw. Forced your mouth shut with such punch that your teeth clack together. You taste blood and you’re not sure if you’ve taken off the tip of your tongue. The screaming stops. It takes you a long moment to piece the situation together. Sat there huddled in on yourself, still gripping at the head and letting the thick blood dripping from its- his- neck sludge down your shins and pool at your feet.
You almost forget about the hand shutting your maw in your daze. Muzzling you with the bitter taste of iron and leather and the vice grip of a bear trap. You’d almost returned to your mind. Remembered that this was not a friendly situation and the body attached to the hand was likely not of pure intention. But you were jerked up by the scruff of your neck. Another strong hand fisting a good portion of the hair at your nape in the process. It lifted you clear off the ground, left your feet dangling inches above the earth. Shocked you enough to get you to let the head tumble out of your hands and back to the ground from where it had come.
You tried to cry out, but your voice was shot. Shredded by the dryness of your throat or the screaming or pure exhaustion. You clawed at the hands, but they were wrapped in thick leather gloves that branched up the arms of your captor. Tried to kick out, but they were wearing thick armor that deflected the force of your blow straight back up into your leg.
You yowled as best you could from under the thick covering. Clawed and grabbed at the air feebly until you were shook by the neck like a rag-doll.
“You’ll quiet or I’ll cut out your tongue and quiet you myself.”
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thought--bubble · 2 months
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She Brings The Darkness Pt. 2
Michael Gavey X (Goth Classmate Reader)
Warnings after the cut
Word Count: 1869
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She Brings The Darkness Masterlist
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Banners & Dividers by @arcielee
A/N: This was the winner of the 300 followers vote! Sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy! It was fun to see what you all wanted more of. Plus my bad for not getting this out before starting the next vote LMAO the timing was weird.
This is the sequel to THIS
Warnings: Swearing, Unprotected PinV Sex, Oral female Receiving. a little bit subby Michael, Whining Michael, Whimpering Michael.
Since your little rendezvous in the library, things had gone back to normal. You were yet again invisible, and Michael avoided looking at you at all costs.
You fight with yourself constantly. You had wanted Michael to leave you alone. That was the entire point, but now that he was, it was driving you crazy.
You find yourself seeking him out, in the library, the courtyard anywhere, really. Boring holes into the side of his head or back of his head willing him to look at you, yet he never does.
"Why am I like this?" You huff to yourself after yet again staring at Michael as he walked through the courtyard. "I am actually chasing Michael fucking Gavey" You rub your hands over your eyes and sigh.
Yet when your feet start moving again, they follow the path set forth by Michael. You can't seem to stop yourself from seeking him out.
When you round the corner, you smash directly into the cause of your ire.
"Why are you following me?" He asks sharply. "I was under the impression we came to an agreement."
You stare back at him speechless. He's right. What do you even say in this situation?
"I .... I ... ummm, " You scramble for words inside your head, but any sensical excuse seems to allude you.
Michael smirks as you stammer. "You don't want me to leave you alone now, do you?" He steps closer to you and tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your eyes. The eyes that were currently avoiding him.
"Hmmmm... seems I may have you hooked. " He chuckles.
Cockyness doesn't suit him, you think, or maybe it does?
"No. I'm not hooked on anything!" You protest with a little too much enthusiasm.
He lifts his eyebrows and smiles. "I've seen you outside of my dorm. Clearly, you know where it is. Meet me there tonight." Michael turns from you and walks away quickly out of sight as you stand there bewildered.
What the fuck just happened?
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Michael walks away from you with a cocky stride, yet the moment he is out of view, he wipes his palms on his trousers and shudders.
"What am I to do if she actually shows up?"
The whole thing was his brother's idea. He had called him explaining what had happened between the two of you in the library and your subsequent behavior.
"She wants the dick Michael" His brother had said while laughing. "Give it to her."
It all seemed so easy when talking about it jovially on the phone but actually going through with it? That is an entirely different matter.
Michael was no virgin, thanks to the kindness of a sweet girl at his secondary school who wanted to get back at her cheating boyfriend, but he was far from experienced.
He had gone out and purchased condoms. Cleaned his dormroom and knew his roommate would be out tonight.
Everything is in place. Now he just has to wait and see if you actually show up.
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Back in your dorm, you are in turmoil. Do you go?
You decide to go and convince yourself it is for one reason. To get the power back. Somehow, the power has shifted to Michael, and you can't have that.
So you rummage around your closet. The outfit needs to be sexier than last time. You don't want him to sweat, you want him to pass the fuck out. Forget maths. Something extreme. Something to tip the power back into your hands.
You pull out a red and black pleated miniskirt to match the red lacey bra and thong you already chose. With a silky red corset top.
This should do it. You choose a pair of black fishnet thigh highs with little red bows on the bands and strap up your docs.
You fix yourself up in the mirror and giggle, "Michael Gavey prepare to grovel."
You arrive outside his dorm room and stop at the door.
"Knock." You tell yourself, yet your hand doesn't move. "Fuckin knock!"
The door opens, and Michael looks at you with a curious expression and a half smile. "Having trouble then?" He opens the door wider to let you in.
You grit your teeth. Embarrassing yourself before you even stepped foot in the room was not part of the game plan.
"Michael." You turn to look at him attempting to put on your most seductive face.
He falters briefly, swallowing loudly before righting himself and falling back into the cocky boy persona.
It's a battle of wills.
"So why did you want me to come here?" You play with the collar of his shirt, bringing your fingers dangerously close to his neck. You can see the goosebumps cross his skin, but he plays it off so well.
"So we can discuss the ....... situation we have going on. " You cringe as he uses the same words you used in the library. This is as much a game of wits as it is wills, and you may be outmatched.
When he looks at you with another cocky smirk, a smirk that says, "I win." You decided to go with your last move. Your fatality move.
You move toward Michael, quickly wrap your hand around the back of his neck and pull his face towards yours, kissing him harshly. He freezes for just a moment before he starts to kiss you back, the mashing of tongues and lips messy and arousing.
This was not the plan. It was better than the plan. You push him back by the shoulders toward his bed. You know if you get him on that bed with you on top, you have him. He will melt just like last time.
He allows you to push him back on the bed, wrapping his arm around your back to pull you down with him. Your lips staying connected.
You crawl up onto him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips. He pulls back briefly and chuckles before gripping your back tightly and rolling you both over, pinning you beneath him.
"Not this time" He growls before he bites into your neck pressing his hardening cock up against your heat only his trousers and your thong separating the two.
You gasp as you feel his teeth tugging at the sensitive skin of your neck, ripples of pleasure traveling down your spine.
"Fuck Michael" You moan the words overwhelmed by the shock of his aggression and the pleasure he is making you feel.
"I got more," He mumbles as he starts kissing down onto your chest, unclasping the hooks on the corset. He gazes down at your half-naked form with a gleam in his eye. "So this is what you've been hiding under all those baggy clothes"
As he makes his way down to your skirt, you lift up your hips. "No, this we are gonna keep on." He pushes your hips back down onto the bed and pushes your skirt up.
You feel heat pooling in your stomach, traveling down to your core. How are you this turned on by Michael fucking Gavey?
He pushes your thighs apart and looks at your cunt. "Fucking brilliant" Is all he says before he shoves his head between your legs pulling your thong to the side and lapping directly at your clit.
"Oh fuck!" You whine at the sudden sensation.
He reacts to your whines with moans of his own as he continues to lick and suck at your pearl. Your hands travel down to his head gripping his hair and rutting your pussy against his face.
It feels too good and you need more pressure. You're sure you are suffocating him, but you don't care.
"Just like that, just like that." You whimper your legs, clamping around his head. "Fuck, right there, right there!" You arch your back as your climax tears through you, Michael continuing to lap at your folds as you ride out your high.
"Too much, too much." You whine afterward, pushing his head away.
He stands up a little dazed, face glistening with the proof of your arousal.
"Come here." You gesture for him to again join you on the bed, and he quickly obliges, crawling onto your body and slotting himself between your thighs.
When he brings his lips back down upon yours, you can taste yourself, and it only serves to increase your arousal. "Take those off," you whisper, tugging at the waistband of his trousers.
He quickly shuffles them off before turning to pull a box of condoms out of his bedside drawer.
"I'm clean and on birth control." You pull him back towards you. "Let me feel you."
He speechlessly nods at you, eyes half lidded, like he's in a trance.
You spread your legs wider for him.
"Fuck I... I really didn't expect it to get this far" he mutters more to himself than to you.
You can't help but giggle before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him towards you. "Hurry up and fuck me Michael Gavey"
"uhhh .... yeah..... fuck yeah" He leans forward again nipping at the skin of your neck before pressing the head of his cock against your entrance.
"Fucccccccck," He moans as he starts to push into you, feeling the warmth and wetness surround him.
You grip his hips, pulling him forward, digging your nails into his soft, tender flesh.
"I said fuck me Michael." You growl biting down harshly on his bottom lip.
"Yes," He whimpers as he starts to rut into you, quickening his pace. "So good... so good, " He mumbles into the crook of your neck.
You feel the heat start to pool in the base of your stomach and dig your nails into his back. "Harder Michael" You demand.
He ruts into you harder and whines. "Oh god, oh god"
You feel him batter the spongey spot inside of you and arch your back, the sensation nearly sending you over the edge. "Faster"
"Oh shit, oh shit." He moves faster, and his legs start to tremble at the sheer force he is using. "I'm not gonna make it, fuck I-" He groans loudly. "Oh God"
"Not yet, Michael. Don't you dare." You dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder. "You cum when I say so"
He nods furiously. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He pants heavily and whines into the crook of your neck.
You clench your legs tightly around him as you are overcome by your climax. "Fuckkkk, good boy!"
"Please, please." He pants and whimpers.
"Just a little longer." You pull his face towards you and gently kiss him as he whimpers into your mouth. You smile at the thought that you were able to get the power back.
"Cum Michael, you can cum now"
He yells out as he grips your hips tightly rutting into you roughly a few more times before his entire body stiffens and he gasps. "Thank you, Thank you"
He collapses on top of you resting his forehead against your chest, as you stroke his hair.
"Shhh Michael, shh," you coo as he pants into your chest.
"You're mine now"
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Note
As someone in their early twenties, at a relatively liberal liberal arts school, it has been horrifying to watch the amount of fliers around campus that talked about "Don't give biden your vote in the primaries, and don't give it to him in november until he's divested from death" AKA palestine. And it's like, I understand the sentiment, but also,wow...we as impressionable 20 year olds are in fact not immune to propaganda. Because the idea that somehow the whole of voting age gen-Zers have fallen for the "don't vote as a form of protest" is horrifying to witness because there are enough of us to sway the vote!
What are you talking about, you're not going to vote??? So playing into the hands of conservatives who've pushed to raise the voting age because they're afraid of us? Seriously? It is mind boggling.
I just want to sit down every single one of them, and make they watch this fantastic video (www.tiktok.com /@bellekurve/video/7345300384161860910?lang=en) because the reaction they are all having is so deeply childishly naive, and they are framing it as brave, and it is potentially going to hurt a lot of people if they follow through with it.
[Here's the linked tiktok]
It is baffling to me that people are still pushing the "not voting as a form of protest that will push the Democrats left" thing. Politicians are not going to court your vote if your demographic historically doesn't vote in large numbers, which young left-leaning people do not.
Refusing to vote is never, ever going to make politicians swing left to court your vote because they don't think you're going to show up anyway. They're going to swing even harder towards reliable voting blocs, and those lean heavily conservative. The 60+ age bracket leans heavily conservative and consistently votes at rates 20-30 points higher than the 18-29 bracket, and religiosity correlates with both higher turnout and conservatism. That's why so many politicians are courting them on both sides of the aisle.
Evangelicals got a lot of their power in this country by being a consistent, unified voting bloc that turns out for every election. I genuinely think that if young leftists voted in larger numbers they could do the same. Refusing to vote isn't a protest, it's an abdication of any power you could have had.
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depravitycentral · 5 months
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Tw: misogany, non-con, incels, gender/power dynamics, writing this made me feel icky, if you are a person who genuinely believes in anything described in this post please consider changing your opinions, fem reader, MDNI, don't ask me where this post came from because I don't know
Thinking about men that think your rightful place is by his side as his woman.
You bring out this side of him that's brand new to him; this side urging him to utterly dominate you, to be in full control of your bank accounts, your friendships, your hobbies, even your own body. There's this new urge to make you ask for permission for everything, to just pin you down and stuff you full of him every hour of every day because it's your job. It's your duty to take his cock - you were made for it.
He's never been particularly misogynistic, but when he looks at you, all he sees is the beautiful, wonderful, perfect woman that he must domesticate. You're too wild on your own - too free-spirited, brainwashed into believing this 'modern woman' crap - there's a reason the man does the work and the woman stays at home. Don't you know that?
He's strong - you're not. (And he knows it, too - after a night of fucking, all the bruises littering your body and the way your legs struggle to hold you steady is proof enough. The way he can easily lift the heavy wooden bedframe of your shared bed is enough - you can only lift a corner of it off the ground, after all. The way he can get you to shut up with just a simple, stern look should be enough evidence.)
He's street-smart - you're not. (He understands what other men want and what you're good for - it's not sexist when he tells you that the shirt you're wearing is too revealing. He won't hesitate to tell you that your entire chest is basically out, angel, and you can't be showing the world one of your best assets. He understands that you're not strong or skilled enough to fight another man off should he decide he wants you - you'll try to fight, sure, but that'll only get the other man going, your resistance only getting them harder and more lustful, and when you inevitably give in - because you always will, all women will - he knows you might even enjoy it.)
He's smart - you're not. (You think you are - and you're right about some things, sure. You know the best ways to bathe yourself - he's never been as thorough as you, he's humble enough to admit that - and how to make delicious pie, and the best way to make the bed warm and soft. But there's a lot of things you don't know, like who to vote for at the next election, or how to change a tire, or how to use a debit card.)
He's a man. And you're not. And he likes that you aren't - he's attracted to you because of your feminine charms; your curves, your softness, your smell, the sound of your voice, and - of course - the fact that you are utterly, utterly his property. As his wife (your consent in the matter is hardly important; his last name is yours now, and that's all there really is to it), all your decisions are made by him. He tells you what to wear, what to get at the grocery store, how to address other men, how to smile, everything that he knows is too much for you to handle.
And, of course, he teaches you other things. Things that he knows you are - should be, at least - clueless about. So cute, huh?
He's patient when he tells you to sink to your knees, palms pressing on the top of your head as he pushes you down, softly shushing you when you start to protest. He's patient as he slips his briefs down, his cock already red and throbbing and big, making your cheeks look even softer and rounder, your glassy eyes and prettier. He's talking you through it as he traces his tip - wet and sticky and leaving a smear of bitter precum on your skin - around your lips, the look in his eye nearly boyish with excitement.
He's gentle when he grasps your chin between two fingers (much stronger than your own, of course) to keep you steady, shuffling his hips forward so that his tip (bulbous and red and positively glistening, already looking so swollen you're sure he won't last but a minute) slips past your lips. He keeps going until you're gagging, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment before immediately opening them once more because the sight of you below him, on your knees for him, shutting you up with his cock down your throat is oh so right.
He's patient when he pushes you face-first into the bed, running a hand over your hair and sighing to himself because god, aren't you pretty? His hands are on your hips immediately, pushing down on your lower back to get the arch of your back deeper, tighter, more intense because it looks better this way - it's better for him this way, and isn't sex really only about the man?
He's even generous enough to be gentle when he's pushing himself inside you - keeping the pace slow but consistent, hissing and letting a few comments of 's so damn tight, fuck and cunt was made for me, shit slipping past his lips. He's kind enough to give you a few moments (perhaps three) to adjust to his size, before he's smacking your ass and pulling your hair, fucking into you like an animal because you're his to use.
And he's not afraid to say it - t's all harsh thrusts that make audible slapping noises as his balls - very, very sensitive and very, very full - smack against you over and over, strong fingers grabbing at your skin and keeping you in place, just so he can ram into that one spot over and over and over, because he thinks the deeper he goes the more he's claiming you. He's groaning at you with stuttered breaths that you were made to get fucked by me, o-oh shit, this tight hole's only thing you're good for and accentuating the idea with his fingers groping at your breast and using it as leverage to pull you back further and get deeper.
The air is hot and smells like musk and cum and sex, every inch of your body unable to think of anything but him - just as it should be, really. He's grabbing onto the pretty, silver collar he's forced around your throat as he thrusts, the tracker inlaid into the metal feeling familiar to his fingertips and making his thrusts harder because he must know where you are at all times - you're his property and he can't lose you.
After all, if you were gone, who would he dress up to look all pretty for him then? (He's still dressing you up even in the humiliating outfits he forces you to parade around in at home - the cooking aprons and nothing else, giving him easy access to hump your bare ass from behind while you work at the stove, cooking him dinner all the while you keep his cock warm between those pretty legs of yours.)
If you were gone, who would wake him up with lips around his cock, soft gagging noises filling the air alongside songbirds as he gets a proper good morning?
If you were gone, who would listen to his endless rants about his horrible coworkers and friends and anyone that pissed him off all while he pounds a beer and jokes about how good you look while you load the washing machine full of his dirty clothes - you look nice bent over, sweetheart, why don't you stay in there for a bit and let me blow off some steam?
Of course, all of this is fine and dandy - owning you is the dream, and having you as his pretty, helpless, clueless little wife is the ultimate fantasy. He lays awake at night sometimes imagining how you'd be as his housewife - the pretty ring on your finger, how you'd eagerly wait at the door for his arrival home from work everyday, how you'd meticulously put on your makeup and style your hair and wear the pretty lingerie he'd bought you just so that you look as attractive and desirable to him as possible.
But first, he needs to show you your place as his woman, and get rid of this misplaced sense of independence you seem to be clutching onto for dear life. Stupid girl.
(His belt is unbuckled as soon as the door closes behind the two of you, his smile something between sinister and elated as he tells you to not bother working at the knot keeping your hands tied behind your back - tying knots is men's work, and you'll hurt your pretty fingers and hands. You'll need those later, so quit picking.)
Enji Todoroki, AFO, Nobunaga Hazama, Illumi Zoldyck, Daichi Sawamura, Kenjiro Shirabu, I don't write for aot or jjk but also Floch Forester, Eren Jeager and Naoya Zenin
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bestygogirl · 3 months
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BEST YGO GIRL: SEMI FINALS
Match 2
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please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.
Propaganda under the cut!
Isis Ishtar
gorgeous, very caring sister, strong duelist, and the only woman to ever make Seto Kaiba squirm
anyways. not only as mentioned above is she the first woman to make kaiba squirm, but she was by all means going to beat him if not for the millennium rod's millennium interference. yami marik admits that she's a strong duelist with a strategy that's been working for literal years-- and given that she's not like, a professional duelist, thats pretty impressive
she also recently got some really cool meta bumps and let me point out that an "ishizu deck" now includes obelisk the tormentor-- which we knew she had prior to giving it to kaiba, but i think it only solidifies my opinion that she very much could wield an Egyptian God Card, an exclusive little club for top tier duelists
as a character she presents herself with an amazing amount of poise and grace, shes compassionate and kind and stays with mai and serenity even though she only just met them. shes struggling through living the past 5 years of her life drowning in guilt for her family's tragedy just because she wanted to make her little brother happy and shadi is a fucking liar. shes foretold her own death and marches towards it grimly but with so much love in her heart. and even then shes 20 years old and holds an important position in the egyptian government that typically requires a doctorate degree AND has been dealing with mariks off-and-on bullshit entirely by her lonesome. she also likes to flex her fortunetelling a little which is awesome i think she should do that more that scene where she tells the guy exactly how the stele is being transported was so everything
speaking of shes got such an attitude. "is it your destiny to waste my time?" iconic. never seen before will never be seen again. watch the duel between her va and joeys its so fucking funny
shes excult. shes doesnt flinch in the face of god nor death. seto kaiba and yami marik respect her. shes so sad and so sweet and battle city couldnt have happened without her.
also her parallels with kaiba are what motivate kaiba to give yugi the card he needed to beat marik.
kaiba, in duelist kingdom, was ready to jump off a ledge if yugi didnt let him through to face pegasus while trying to save mokuba out of sheer desperation to save his little brother. he KNOWS what that dedication feels like and the iron kind of will you need to have to make that kind of gamble. isis is being so fucking legit with what shes saying and he respects that and her judgement enough to change his mind and not only watch the duel, but give yugi a card that eventually helps him win, even if he has no real confidence in the odds. but theres a CHANCE, which is the same thing he taught her when he beat her in a duel. the layers its her faith that moves him to act. which is so crazy
anyway vote isis shes my best friend forever and a real rep for all the 20 year olds who honest to god did not sign up for this bullshit
Aki Izayoi
An abuse victim who isn't the perfect passive figure but gets to work through her complicated feelings about power, agency, and family. Even with Yusei's help, she is the star of the show when she learns to control her powers and reconciles with her father, it is so fun that a ygo heroine gets to take such an antagonistic role bu not be shamed for her anger
please vote for my main girl, aki izayoi. aki was led to believe she was a monster from a young age by her father, who treated her powers like it made her unworthy of love. as a result, divine was able to swoop in and take advantage of aki's low self esteem. for years, aki believed herself unworthy of love and was molded into a living weapon at the hands of authority figures in her life. she was taken advantage of, and thus when she finally comes face to face with yusei, she refuses to believe he could provide her with unconditional friendship. who would want to be around a monster, after all?
aki also nearly beats yusei TWICE in a duel, bringing it down to a single turn difference. she comes toe to toe with him, and it truly is the result of who dueled better. she remains a fierce duelist, btw. the second season, aki gets her duel runner license, and immediately nearly beats the ass of a tournament winning turbo duelist - to the point where once again, a single card is the deciding factor. that's right: she nearly won. if not for a single trap card, aki izayoi would've won.
a fierce duelist who was shaped into a loving, caring woman despite years of being beaten down by the world: aki izayoi. vote for her now on your phones.
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fairyhaos · 8 months
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❍ the 2k event: junhui + castle
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vote for this fic in the poll!
alternative title: you are my kingdom
pairing: crown prince!junhui x royalty!gn!reader
genre: historical royalty au, arranged marriage, strangers to lovers
word count: 1167
warnings: none
event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994
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The wind whistles through the castle, seeping in through under the heavy wooden doors, in through the windows that aren't quite sealed enough to keep away the small squeals of air. You hold your breath, trying to not make a sound, curling up even tighter in your spot in the wardrobe. 
"Y/N?" A voice singsongs, and you stiffen at the sound of footsteps echoing on the stone floor outside of the room. "Where are you?"
The door to the room you're in creaks open, and you try to pretend that you're not there.
It doesn't work, though, because not even two seconds later, the wardrobe door swings open and a man grins down at you, dark eyes glittering. 
"Aha! I found you!" Junhui declares, bright and happy, and you groan. He offers out a hand to help you to your feet, and you accept it, brushing off your clothes as you step out of the wardrobe. "Why are you even hiding in these rooms, anyway? You're never gonna need to come to the visitor's wing."
"Hey. We're playing hide and seek for me, you know. Because I don't know the layout if your castle. You never gave me boundaries!" you point out as Junhui leads you out of the room. "I wouldn't have known the boundaries, anyway. Because again. I don't know the layout of your castle."
Junhui laughs. "That's true. Well, anyway, now you know. These are the visitor wings, where we place the visiting royals or Lords who are coming to make relations with the King."
"Your father," you correct. 
"The King," Junhui says again, smiling. "They don't come say hi to my father just because he's my dad, do they? They come because he's the King."
You shrug. "Fair enough."
"Do you wanna play another round of hide and seek?" Junhui asks. "We have some time before some duties we need to carry out. And then Father wants us to eat with him for dinner."
"Yes! Let's play another round!" you say, clasping your hands together. "I think I almost have down the important parts of the castle."
Junhui grins, and takes your hand. "Okay, let's go back outside! I'll count to one hundred again."
As Junhui drags you through his castle, laughing as you stumble over uneven cobblestones and barrel past surprised servants, you can't help but marvel at how different he is from any other Crown Prince you've ever met. 
You can't help but marvel at how you're married to him. 
It hadn't been a love marriage, but rather an arranged one, as most marriages between kingdoms' royal children were. You had little say in who you were going to marry, and Crown Prince Junhui had been chosen for you purely because your father had wanted to maintain peace with a newly emerged kingdom that showed potential to one day be powerful. 
You were a pawn in the grand scheme of petty politics, to say the least. And you had hated it. 
You had done your utmost to sabotage the engagement, refused all of Junhui's courting gifts, fiercely denied meeting him right up until the day of your marriage, insisting that if your freedom to choose who you were going to marry was being taken from you, then you were going to fight for every other little bit of freedom that you could. 
The marriage had been a whistlestop affair, feeling more like a treaty signing with mildly more fanfare than the wedding it was meant to be, and that had infuriated you even more. 
You'd vowed to despise Prince Junhui and his kingdom forever, especially when you'd been whisked away from your home to go live in his castle with him. 
That is, until the day you walked in on Junhui in tears. 
It had been an accident, with you still unaware of the castle layout having only been there a week, and your maidservant was little help, a snooty young lady who seemed to despise the fact that their "attractive young prince was marrying a person who could hold no candle to his beauty". 
You were trying to search for the stables and had gotten hopelessly lost, wandering around the edges of the castle until you accidentally stumbled upon Junhui, hidden in the long grass in a dip in the stones where a turret met the straight walls, wiping his eyes. 
It had startled you, to see him look so sad and lost, and in that moment it struck you that Junhui was in the same position as you, that he was stuck in a loveless marriage just like you, and here you were, snapping at him and avoiding him and being utterly horrible when his life surely wasn't looking any nicer than yours. 
Silently, so as not to be noticed, you had stepped backwards and left him alone. And three days later, you sought him out in his chambers, hand outstretched and tentative smile on your face, asking for a truce. 
And that leads you to where you are now, many months later. Running through the castle. Playing hide and seek to help you understand the layout of how your new home works. 
"Your Highnesses!" the Head Knight yelps, practically throwing himself into the wall as the Crown Prince runs past, with you in tow. "Please be careful!"
"Sorry, Cheol!" Junhui yells back. "You're getting slow in your old age, though!" he adds, and you laugh. 
There's something so youthfully beautiful about Junhui's face when he smiles like that, you think, as he rounds the corner and throws open the doors that lead outside into the courtyard. 
He's so beautiful. 
"Oh my God," you gasp, leaning against the wall, panting. "I think I'm getting slow in my old age."
Junhui laughs again, dark eyes twinkling. "Nonsense. You're young and fit and beautiful, nothing at all like the old hag that is Seungcheol."
You stifle a grin, trying not to focus on how his words make your heart thump oddly in your chest. "Sure, sure. I bet he could still run you through in the blink of an eye, though."
"Oh, definitely," Junhui says instantly, and you laugh at the promptness of his answer. "But our Court Physician? Wow, Jeonghan is even more of a hag, I swear. He never leaves his room."
You tilt your head. "Jeonghan?"
Junhui's eyes widen. "I haven't taken you to meet Jeonghan, have I? Don't worry, we'll do that first thing tomorrow."
It makes your heart warm, really, the amount of effort Junhui is putting in to make you feel comfortable in his kingdom. Ever since that incident those several months ago, he's been the one friendly face you've found comfort in within this new place. He's been your friend. 
But as he beams at you before turning to face the wall, rambling on about how's he's going to count to 100 really slowly to allow you to choose the best hiding spot ever in this castle, a realisation hits you in the chest so hard that your eyes widen. 
Oh, no. 
"Junhui."
Junhui turns around, his face open, and he looks so beautiful that your heart thumps even harder and you're blurting out what you're thinking without even stopping to reconsider. 
"I think I'm in love with you."
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Text
Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 3
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Propaganda
Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):
#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show
PLEASASSWEEPLEASE TOU DONT HUNRERFSTABDS
GLENN GLENN GLENN ITS GLENN VOTE GLENN VOTE FOR THE BOY
We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:
Young hot rocker dilf
Loyal to his dead wife <3
Does in fact smoke weed
BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)
His band was a Christmas cover band btw.
Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy
Anti government (ofc)
Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)
Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??
Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch
One incredibly buff arm
Has a pet rat named after his son <3
Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged
OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE
HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON
A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)
HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS
IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED
Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence
Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!
I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.
GLENN GLENNNNNN
Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting
I haven't dedicated the last 2 months of my life drawing Glenn close for him to lose
Vote for Glenn Close or I will make you read the parody I did of the vaporeon copypasta
I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.
VOTE GLENN
Glenn fuckers fought tooth and nail to get us here from like 38% dawg we DESERVE THIS. GLENN IS THE SEXIEST MAN!!! HE WAS THE FIRST FICTIONAL CHARACTER I FOUND HOT AND HE’S GONNA CONTINUE TO SWEEP!!! Your hot goat woman sounds sexy don’t get me wrong but I’m forever fighting for the man that changed my brain chemistry. Proud of our fandom tbh. I don’t think y’all understand the sheer amount of effort I have put in to get my boy where he is today but this placement feels well earned. TO GLENN SWEEP!!
THE FUCK YOU MEAN GLENN CLOSE ISNT WINNING IM BOUT TO THROW HANDS FR
Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so
Yalll better vote glenn i swear to god
Vote Glenn or else the bird gets it🐦🛸
HOW IS MY DUDE NOT WINNING????
GLEN GELN NELG GLENNANN HE DESERVS ITTTT
HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.
Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.
Taako (The Adventure Zone: Balance):
A celebrity chef from another plane
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