#im not responsible for the things i write

[meshiinuma]

type

relationship: poly satosugu x reader

desc: clearly satoru has a type + bed time

wrd cnt: 3.3k

warnings: the reader is so fucking specific . like theyre chubby, brown, have glasses, dark hair, n dark eyes. sorry 2 anyone who isnt that HJSJDHSJ, gn reader, fluff

a(shley's)/n: first post whoopie !! also . chubby sugubooboo REALNESS !!!!!!! visit sometime is being worked on PROMISEEE its at 12k words rn n its only the first chapter [im planning on writing the rest of the chapters b4 publishing bcuz i feel bad abandoning things so its probs gonna b over 300k by the time im done w the whole thing . sigh.] ok. enjoy . [also u can tell whos my favorite]

the tiny couch the three of you crammed onto every evening felt incredibly warm. it did every day.

suguru was on the farthest left (when you’re sitting on the couch and facing the tv in front of it), laying back on the couch with a pillow underneath his head. satoru was on the farthest right, using the armrest as a prop for his head and playing on his nintendo switch. you were leaning back on suguru’s stomach, on your phone.

gurgle! grrk! 

“your stomach’s talking shit about you, suguru.” you warned, scrolling through the comments on a post.

“what’s it saying?” he asked offhandedly, turning a page.

“‘s gonna kill you man.” 

“crazy…” he trailed off and you noticed his reading glasses slipping down his nose slowly.

you pulled yourself up his body and pushed them up with your pointer finger, then laid a kiss against the apple of his cheek.

suguru looked down at you, dark brown eyes so clear you could see yourself reflected in them almost. he put a pretty bookmark with a nice yellow tassel between the pages and set it on the side table.

“now what do you from me? hm?” he drew you fully to his chest where he started to nip at your cheeks and jaw. giggle “kisses sugu! gimme kisses!” you exclaimed as he started to lay light kisses from the tippy top of your head down to your collarbone. everywhere his lips touched made little sparks fly under your skin, love flooding through every vein in your body at suguru’s affection.

you kept giggling with suguru, returning his little kisses, straddling his thighs, and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“ewww!” satoru suddenly interjected. looking behind you, your third was sticking his tongue out and powering his switch off, “get a room,” he said and tried to crawl between you and suguru. 

“what are you- ack!” satoru nestled himself sideways in the little pocket of space between and was already half hanging off the couch. suguru got elbowed a bit.

you pulled back and sat on your haunches to let satoru get comfortable, “everything good?” you asked, waiting for him to finish wriggling around, “it’d be better if you could get down here…” he asked and gazed at you over his shoulder coquettishly. the look made your stomach suddenly combust into a horde of butterflies that expressed themselves through possessing your body and draping yourself over your two lovers.

satoru got a kiss on the little circle at the top of his head where his hair grew from and a bit of scalp shone through, “better?” quietly suguru mumbled into the air. 

“mhm…” was satoru’s response.

you shifted around to get satoru and suguru in your sights at the same time, enraptured with the beauty of your lovers. if you lost the ability to see them everyday, you think you’d sob inconsolably.

eventually, you shoved yourself into the space between suguru and the back cushions, finding the best view. 

suguru had slid further down the couch, fully using the arm rest as a pillow with eyes closed and glasses firmly placed at eye level. satoru faced the tv, eyes closed as well, and was clutching suguru’s arm wrapped around him.

and then you. 

you glanced up to see a vague shape of your body reflected in the dark tv screen, a part of a blob of skin and other various hues. the final piece to the puzzle.

as you settled into the warmth of suguru’s chest (his arm went around you straight away, no looking) and wrapped your arm around satoru’s shoulder (he grabbed it and tucked it close to his chest), you faintly realized something.

“you have a type satoru,” you said quietly.

out of the corner of your eye you saw suguru’s eye peek open.

“no i don’t?” he rolled in place to face you, hot breath fanning over your exposed arm.

“yeah you do.” this time you were looking directly into his eyes, challenging his denial.

“oh yeah? what’s my type?” satoru fired back, cocky sounding.

“dark hair, dark eyes, glasses, brown skin, chubby, and a little mean to you.” that seemed to shut him up, suguru’s eyes fully open and filled with mirth.

“...dunno what you’re talking ‘bout…” satoru pouted at being found out so quickly. 

“think about it! i have dark hair, suguru has dark hair. suguru has dark eyes, i have dark eyes. we both wear glasses-”

“not all the time!” at satoru’s interjection, you and suguru shared a look and went back down to him.

“...nevermind. continue.” 

“we’re both brown and chubby-” as you said this, you moved satoru’s hands up to yours and your dark haired lovers stomachs, making him squeeze them a bit. satoru blushed.

“and we’re mean to you! it’s like me and sugu are the same people, it’s crazy.” you finished and looked up at suguru for approval on your insight.

“they’re not wrong,” he added, “and we’re dating each other, so it’s like how people are attracted to similar personalities.”

satoru shook himself out of the brief pull you and suguru had on him, “then what does that say about you two for dating me?” he asked genuinely.

“hmm…” you held your chin, submerging into deep thought.

“oh! we like annoying guys like you!” suguru replied for the two of you.

“yeah!” 

now satoru really was pouting.

“but we love you for it ‘toru! its cute!” you amended, pulling his face towards you so you could pepper him with kisses.

suguru joined in and wrapped his arms around the two of you, giving satoru kisses all over his head.

“haha! okay, okay!” satoru’s face was tinged pink all the way up to his scalp and his smile stretched wide. you think his eyes were glowing twice as much, filled to the brim with emotion.

“getting shy?” suguru mumbled coyly into his ear. satoru looked away bashfully and his face turned five shades deeper, “no…” 

you planted a wet kiss right on his burning cheek mwah!, “cutie…now go turn the tv on,” you said with a snicker as the red slowly faded from satoru’s face.

“really?” he grumbled, but got up anyway to turn the tv on and grab the remote.

“thank youuu!” you cooed when satoru came back and rewarded his efforts with a kiss right at the junction between his neck and jaw.

he just mumbled something and cuddled back into you and suguru. the top of his head was a bit red.

“what do you wanna watch?” you asked.

“i demand...netflix!” satoru exclaimed and raised the remote high above his head. 

at the same time, you and suguru spoke, “alright.” satoru looked back, “jeez maybe you two are the same person…” 

you brushed the comment off and urged him to pick something to watch. satoru chose a k-drama series he was halfway through and started from the beginning, “just for you two! no one else,” he said and put the remote on the side table.

*

an hour or two later, the three of you reached the point satoru had gotten to. or rather the two of you, as satoru had fallen asleep after the first episode and was snoring into suguru’s hockey jersey sleeve. 

suguru had his head turned and was just staring at the screen, a bit bored looking.

you had both your hands buried under his jersey, absentmindedly kneading at the pudge lining his midsection and brushing his happy trail back and forth, “ready to sleep?” the question was gently whispered by you, taking care not to wake satoru. 

“yeah,” suguru said, moving the hand that was caressing your back to the back of your head and kissed your crown. he turned around to reach the remote, but you stopped him.

“wait! wait!” you protested quietly, “i can get it.” suguru gave you a skeptical look, “okay…”

and then you fully shoved yourself under his oversized st. louis blues jersey.

“wh- hey!” he patted your back, trying to track your wriggling body. you shoved your arm through the neck hole and scrambled for the remote behind suguru’s head. 

once you finally got a hold on the plastic device, you pointed it at the tv, “can you pause it and turn the tv off?” 

sigh “you know? i don’t think you and i are alike at all.” his hand engulfed yours and clicked around a bit before the remote was slipped away from your hand.

“you’re so warm sugu…” you slurred, the warmth and lack of sleep getting to you.

underneath suguru’s jersey, you were surrounded on all sides by warmth. 

above you was the white of his jersey, underneath you was his warm and fuzzy torso, and radiating all around you was warmth. you snuggled into the artificial embrace, kicking your legs underneath his.

then suguru suddenly yanked the top of his jersey above your head.

then cold flooded straight into your bones. you expressed this with a shiver and tightening your fetal position on suguru’s midsection.

“c’mon. up.” he urged you up and off the couch, slinging satoru over a broad shoulder.

“you can cuddle when we’re in bed, alright?” he held your face in the palm of his very big hand and tilted his head to the side a bit, “yeah,” you said, a bit spacey at the thought of being cuddled up to one of the men of your dreams (you get to paw and chew at him like a dog every night, but that didn’t mean it felt like a bit of a privilege to haul suguru around in bed like that). 

he kissed your head, “good.” and trodded off to the bedroom with his two lovers in tow, of course. 

suguru laid satoru on the bed first and caressed the side of his face with the back of his hand. the love that suguru exercised for you and satoru shocked you to your core sometimes. it was easy to forget the gentle touches amidst all the roughhousing shared between the three of you.

after he leaned down and laid a featherlight kiss between satoru’s eyes, he looked up at you.

“ready?” 

without waiting for a response, he glided to the bathroom. assured in your ability to follow.

a quick pit stop was made before you joined suguru in the bathroom. you hovered over satoru’s slumbering body, clad in an oversized band tee acquired the summer before and basketball shorts from suguru (maybe. possibly. it’s gotten hard to tell over the years). he looked beautiful with the moonlight flooding through the huge window next to the bed. 

with the same gentleness suguru possessed, light fingers skimmed across his forehead and drew his hair away from his eyes. you planted a big wet kiss right at the center of his temples.

that stirred him awake.

“mngh…” his eyes fluttered open, but eventually decided to close.

“go back to sleep for me baby, ‘kay?” you whispered into his ear, already holding the top of the thirty pound weighted blanket satoru slept with every night.

once satoru settled down again, you tiptoed to the bathroom, light already on underneath the door. 

“hi,” you said at a volume less than normal. 

suguru had his jersey sleeves rolled up and was applying face cream when you walked in, “hey.” he matched your sound, gave you a kiss on the cheek, and went back to making sure all of the product reached every nook and cranny of his face.

you slithered behind him and wrapped your arms around his cinched waist. you squeezed a little, making suguru wheeze a bit unexpectedly, an inside joke from before any romance entered your lives.

then your hands dipped above the hem of his jersey, still craving body heat.

“if you tickle me, i’ll punch you.” he warned, looking back at you over his shoulder. 

if you were to be on the receiving end of any of suguru’s attacks while he does martial arts training, you think you’d ascend to something higher than heaven. 

you didn’t say that though. all you did was look up at him dopily and smile, “okay.”

he looked at you suspiciously and went back to finishing his nightly routine. maybe you should start on your own as well. but what kept you from pulling away wasn’t the wonderful texture of suguru’s body, no, it was him expanding and deflating his chest in a timely manner.

he was breathing. and you were right there feeling that. 

this was real. the fact you got to wake up everyday, be with your two lovers, come home to a warm couch, and hold the people you love like this all the time made you feel like puking. in a good way.

suguru was completely oblivious to the lovey-dovey thoughts circling your head. he had moved on to dental care and was currently on the last step, scraping his tongue. 

you watched him through the mirror, sighing and swooning over every little action he made. the way he flexed a bit when he pressed the metal scraper on the back of his tongue, the way nails covered in flaking black polish pried the storage for the scraper open, the way he reapplied pomegranate chapstick, the way he turned to you with a look he only reserves for you and satoru, the way his mouth moved-

wait. he was talking?

you snapped yourself out of your stupor and tuned back into the conversation.

“-and then we can sleep, don’t want to keep satoru waiting.” 

yeah you have no clue what he’s talking about.

you tilted your head, a little smile teasing your lips, “what’d you say?”

suguru’s face fell into a deadpan, the reading glasses he still had on emphasized his disappointment.

“you’re such a bad listener, you know that right?” he grabbed his bottle of amla hair oil (almost empty, you’d need to stop by the international grocery store to get more soon) and placed it on the counter.

“i just need you to oil my hair for me, it’s been getting a little dry.” a simple request you’ve fulfilled many times before.

you don’t think suguru needed a verbal response with the way you pulled out the shower stool stored under the sink and patted the seat, urging him to take a seat.

he took a seat and tugged the hair tie holding his half bun in place. a bad habit suguru has is leaving his hair ties anywhere and everywhere, today was no exception.

suguru flicked the scrunchie away somewhere in the bathroom and let his lovely tresses fall down his back. 

one of you would get that. later. 

for now, you wanted to focus on suguru’s dying and unhydrated hair (it wasn’t that bad, just felt a little rough in your hands is all).

the motion of pouring oil onto your hands, rubbing them together, then starting at the roots was a well practiced routine. oftentimes, you and satoru would tackle suguru’s full head of hair at the same time to split the workload and provide the man with a relieving head massage. 

unfortunately, satoru’s incapacitated state on the bed meant he couldn’t help out this time. whatever. you’d get all the kisses and cuddles from suguru as a reward later.

you finally started to get to the ends of his hair, a particularly dried section.

“careful with the oil, don’t want it to stain my shirt.” he says that every time. 

and you were careful. every time.

suguru’s hair was freshly oiled and you dried your hands with a hand towel hanging on the towel rack while your boyfriend pulled on his long satin bonnet. he started to walk out of the bathroom before you remembered something, “!”

he turned around at the doorway, “what?”

“i forgot to do my own routine,” you said, turning to the vanity and picking out what you needed for the night.

“i can wait.” suguru closed the door and slumped onto the toilet seat cover.

“you don’t have to-” 

“i’m staying.” he leaned back, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes.

you just rolled your eyes and started your night routine.

the silence between the two of you was nice. all that filled the quiet was the low hum of the bathroom fan. (you missed the way suguru was eyeing you with hooded eyes and a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he really loves you.)

by the time you finished, suguru had gone back to his stationary position with his eyes closed. you admired him and then leaned down to nuzzle your head against the crown of his head, his eyes opened pretty fast after that.

you laid a sweet kiss right against his lips, the fruity taste from his chapstick transferring to your own. then to tease him, you licked a little stripe up the center of his lips, coating his ashley piercing in spit.

“blegh! don’t do that!” and he smacked you away as you giggled.

suguru stood up and started to walk ahead of you, “i think the lack of sleep is getting to your head…” 

“whatever.” you turned the bathroom light off and closed the door behind you.

you threw yourself onto the bed and writhed in place a bit, trying to find the best sleeping position. on the contrary, suguru sat on the bed, swung his legs around, and tucked himself under the edge of the blanket pretty fast.

eventually, you found a good position. your back was to suguru’s front and you were curled facing satoru’s sleeping front. this was what you settled on every night.

but despite how tired you were, something in you still made you want to twist and turn in place like a worm. just to get all the energy out.

behind you, suguru was setting the digital alarm clock on the nightstand for some ungodly time in the morning (so he can get his workout routine out of the way). you found your perfect victim.

you pounced on suguru as softly as you could (once he turned around of course, you’d feel bad if he fell off the bed) and smothered him in kisses. 

“hi, hey, what’s up?” he sounded like he was trying not to giggle and laugh too loudly, for fear of waking up satoru.

“i dunno.” you teased and peppered featherlight kisses from the bottom of his frames down to his little double chin, giving him a big kiss where it dipped down the most. (a little freckle was right next to it. your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet, but you knew it was there.)

suguru returned your affections with kisses on your cheeks that pushed so far you could feel the pressure on your tongue. you snickered bashfully and kicked your legs a little.

after that, all the fight and energy left you in favor of fatigue slipping into the cracks. you flopped beside suguru and gave him a final kiss on his right temple, “love you.” you whispered.

he turned your body around so you were back on your side and facing satoru. “love you back.” suguru whispered and kissed the back of your head.

you missed your third dearly. so in tandem, you and suguru reached out to pull satoru into your combined warmth.

at the same time, you and suguru each gave him a kiss at random points on his head, whispering the same thing, “love you so much.”

satoru woke up at the combined affection. just enough to finish the final step before sleep could claim you. he leaned forward enough to brush his lips against your nose, “love you baby.” then he reached as far as he could and kissed suguru’s neck, “love you su.” and he collapsed in front of you, back to sleep.

suguru shifted behind you, something clacking around on the side table. he put his fingers around the bridge of your glasses and folded them carefully. they clacked next to his.

your eyes closed as a big warm arm laid across your waist and extended outwards to the body in front of you.

#meshiinuma #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru getou x reader #satoru gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #self insert #fluff #getou suguru #gojou satoru #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk men x reader #jjk fanfiction #suguru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #gojou x reader #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo x reader x suguru geto #if uve read this far . why. #also haiiiii ^_^)/ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[celestialglow24]

••• Sharing the Bed•••

Frank Castle x AFAB Reader

Reader is wondering how things will be with Frank now after asking him to be her fake boyfriend at her sister’s wedding.

3.9k words

Inspired by the faking dating prompts from @thelonelyempath https://www.tumblr.com/thelonelyempath/705043295893618688/fake-dating-prompts?source=share

Using prompt #25 “I kinda liked sharing the bed with you”

I’ve had such a writing bug lately and im taking advantage of it while i’ve got it! Enjoy xxx

You were nervous to see him again.

It had been a couple weeks since you’d convinced Frank to be your fake boyfriend for your sister’s wedding.

You had panicked when your mom called you at work, saying you had pushed it off long enough and she needed an answer right now if you were bringing a plus one or not.

You almost said no, but after she made a snide comment about already knowing the answer—she was just asking as a courtesy to your sister—you cracked and told her you’d been seeing someone for months now.

When she asked who, your eyes had landed on one of the few patrons left at the bar that night.

Frank Castle.

Surprisingly he agreed to go. It was probably the desperation in your voice and the pleading of your eyes—you didn’t have time to think about how pathetic you felt—but you were thankful nonetheless.

It’s been 14 days since you got back and you haven’t seen him since. Not that you were counting the days or anything.

No texts.

No phone calls.

Just silence.

Normally you wouldn’t think much of it. Even though Frank had become a regular at the bar and restaurant you worked at, he’d disappear for days and weeks at a time.

You’d try and make small talk when he came back. Hoping to get any kind of inclination as to what Frank Castle got up to in his spare time.

He was still such a mystery to you. A very attractive mystery at that. One that you were determined to figure out.

However, as much as you tried, you never got the answer you were searching for.

It was always “business” or “nothing you’d find interesting, sweetheart”.

You never really gave it much thought when he offered those responses, you just accepted that Frank was not an open book. He was a locked book. One kept on the highest shelf that you’d probably never be able to reach.

And yet despite knowing all this you couldn’t help but wonder if your time away together had anything to do with his sudden absence.

You worried things would get awkward. Especially after having to share a bed together. He offered to sleep on the floor but you shot that down quick.

Not only would you feel enormously guilty having him sleep on the hardwood floor—he complained about his back a lot—but you were worried someone might walk in and your fake dating charade would unravel.

The silent crush you’d been harboring had only gotten louder after several days with Frank. Having to hold hands, talk sweetly to each other and even slow dance at the wedding had your mind all in a haze.

What was real and what wasn’t?

Did he feel anything? Or was he just a really good actor?

It was driving you crazy.

One thing was for certain, your family adored him. Especially your equally intimidating, hard-to-please father.

In fact, your dad liked him so much he invited him to go hunting in a few months.

It had taken years before he even extended an invite like that to your sister’s now husband.

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing when you watched the way his eyes had widened and mouth parted when Frank agreed to go—your sister offering a reassuring pat to his arm.

You figured it had something to do with the fact they were both veterans. Your dad took an instant liking to anyone who could relate to the struggle and strength it took to serve in the military.

And your mother. The way she fawned over everything Frank said and did. His manners, how he consistently answered with “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am”.

She just about fell over when she came into the kitchen one morning to find he had managed to fix that pesky dishwasher that had been giving her trouble for months.

You smiled at the memory, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Another thought had overshadowed it. One that caused a sudden pit to form in your stomach. How were you going to break the news to your family that things with Frank weren’t working out?

The plan was to give it a few weeks and then call to let them know you’d decided to take some time apart. You were both realizing you needed different things, but you would remain friends.

It sounded reasonable, but now? You didn’t think you could handle their disappointment.

You’d never seen them so proud of you. So happy for you. Pleasing your parents always felt like an impossible task. The closer you got there was always some dip in the road that caused that approval to move further and further away.

You finally bring someone home that they approved of only to rip the hope away from them. You were sure they’d find some way to blame it all on you.

You were starting to remember what it felt like when you told them you wouldn’t be going to college.

It didn’t matter that you were excellent at your job, managing both the bar and the restaurant on your own. It didn’t matter that you were able to make more than enough money to support yourself. And it certainly didn’t matter that you had helped exceed the profit goals of each quarter since you started.

It didn’t matter that you had been busting your ass to save back money to buy the place for yourself when the owner retired soon.

It only mattered that you didn’t have a “career” or a family to call your own.

Frank had picked up on the tension pretty early on. He did his best to talk you up. You found it sweet. Endearing even.

One night, while the two of you were dancing to some slow, sappy song your sister picked out, Frank called you out on your off demeanor.

You were surprised he noticed, you thought you had mastered the art of appearing fine when deep down you really weren’t.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he spoke lowly in your ear. One of his hands rested on the small of your back while the other held your hand close to his chest. His thumb ran back and forth along your hand and you tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies wreaking havoc on your stomach.

“I’m wondering how Uncle Steven has managed to go this long without throwing up. I thought for sure the cupid shuffle would’ve done it.”

Frank turned to look in the direction you were staring. Your Uncle Steven was somehow still performing the steps to the dance from 3 songs ago. Frank lightly chuckled as he watched Steven spill some of his beer on the couple next to him.

Though he couldn’t deny he was also wondering how the old man hadn’t crashed yet, he knew that’s not what you were really thinking about.

You were trying to deflect.

He was starting to learn just how stubborn you could be, but unlucky for you, Frank wasn’t gonna let you off the hook that easily.

“Nah that ain’t it.” he shook his head. “I can tell there’s a lot more going on behind those eyes.”

You were slightly relieved the lights were dim in the reception so he couldn’t see the deep blush heating up your face. You weren’t good at making eye contact with people you were crushing on.

“I think you’re imagining things.” you replied avoiding his gaze. “I’m just tired, I think this week is finally catching up to me.”

“Hm.” Frank hummed.

“What?”

“I think we’re about to have our first fight.”

You scoffed, ”Oh yeah? and what’s this ‘first fight’ gonna be about?”

“How you’re lying to your boyfriend.” he replied, speaking low into your ear again. It shouldn’t have caused the hairs on your neck to stand up but it certainly did.

“Look, you listen to assholes mope and complain all day long about their sad fucked up lives. I think it’s only fair to return the favor.” he shrugged. “So tonight i’ll do your job and you can let it all out right now. Minus the crude comments and shitty tips.”

You were about to laugh and lightly shove Frank for messing with you, but the look on his face made you pause.

He was being serious.

“Is it your folks?” he asked. “I saw your face when your dad gave that speech. That smile you were forcin’, it didn’t reach your eyes.”

You bit your lip and lowered your stare to the dress shirt he was wearing, playing nervously with one of the buttons to avoid looking up at him.

“That obvious huh?” you laughed sadly.

Frank felt bad as he watched the hurt wash over your features. He knew all too well the overwhelming pressure to please one’s family. He grew up with an overbearing father who never thought he’d amount to anything.

He knew how much that disappointment could eat you alive.

“It’s just, no matter what I do. I know my dad will never speak about me the way he does my sister. She’s an ivy league graduate who just got into med school. She’s married now, moving to a new city and probably going to be popping out kids before the end of next year. and me? In his eyes I'm just a bartender in a small town with no ambitious goal in sight.”

Frank nodded in understanding. He could see from the outside how the comparison could make you feel that way.

“Are you happy?”

You thought about it for a second. Even though the job had its ups and downs—managing a restaurant and a busy bar was no easy feat—you could honestly say you enjoyed what you did.

You got to know a lot of the locals well and it always made you feel good to know that you’d helped make their day or night a little better.

You loved the house you recently bought. It was a bit of a fixer upper but it was yours.

You loved how independent you were. How you could come home after a long day and you didn’t have to cook for a litter of kids.

It was just your dog, cat and you.

“Honestly? Yeah, I think I am.”

“Then fuck em.” he shrugged.

“Frank I-”

“Nah, nah.” he cut you off. “I know that’s your family but that don’t mean they’re always right. If you like what you do and you’re happy then who gives a shit what anyone else thinks.”

You processed Frank’s words and while you knew he was probably right, it didn’t mean it was easy to just tune out your parents’ criticism.

Frank seemed to know what you weren’t saying out loud because he followed it up with something that made your heart swell.

“All i’m saying is if they can look at you and what you’re doing and feel anything but proud there’s something wrong with ‘em. Not you.”

You could’ve kissed him right there but the song had ended and couples were clearing the dance floor.

Instead you walked back to the table with Frank, your arm looped through his.

You couldn’t help but think about how this man was screwing with your heart and your head and he didn’t even know it.

That much was still true all these days later. At this point you were dying for him to show up again.

Even if he didn’t talk to you, you’d at least know he wasn’t avoiding this whole place because of you.

The night was winding down, the 2 am crowd had begun to disperse and your eyes were fighting hard to stay awake. You’d chosen to work a double today, one of the other bartenders had a family emergency.

In your 20s you could work shifts like this and bounce right back the next day but now? In your 30s you were lucky if you managed to wake up without an achy back and sore feet.

“Phil, I'm gonna run the last of the trash out and then I'm heading home. I left the keys to lock up in the front drawer.” you shouted to the line cook in the back.

You could see him mopping up the kitchen floor so you knew he wouldn’t be too far behind you.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with ya this time?” he shouted back, “I’d hate for a creepy critter to make you run like you’d seen a ghost again.”

You rolled your eyes as Phil roared with laughter. Referencing the one time a little group of racoons had taken up residence inside the restaurant dumpster and sent you running like Freddy Krueger himself was chasing you.

“I think i’ll manage this time Phil, thanks for looking out.” you replied playfully.

You picked up the large trash bags and backed into the front door to head out. It was really inconvenient but they recently had moved the trash compactor across the street.

Not only was it annoying during the day when the streets were busy but it was extra spooky at night.

Once you were out of the door you turned around only to gasp and drop the trash bags you were holding.

“Jesus, Frank.” you cried, “What the hell were you trying to do, give me a fucking heart attack?”

You were too distracted by the adrenaline coursing through your veins to realize the man you’d been waiting to see for the last two weeks was finally standing in front of you.

“My bad, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. I tried to go by your place and you weren’t there so I figured you might be here.”

You blew out a puff of hair and a couple pieces of your hair went flying.

“You were looking for me?”

“Yeah, sorry I know it’s late. I wanted to make sure you got this back. Somehow I think it got mixed up in my things.”

Frank pulled out a pink phone charger from his jacket pocket and extended it out to you.

You had a million of these things scattered around your house so you honestly hadn’t noticed it was missing. It was sweet of him to bring it back to you though.

“Oh Frank, you didn’t have to worry about that.” you replied, walking forward to retrieve it. “But thank you”.

You beamed a genuine smile at Frank while holding up the charger in your hand and he thought his heart had grown 2 sizes. Just like the Grinch his kids used to watch.

There was something about your smile that always stopped him in his tracks. He would never get tired of seeing it.

“Nah it’s nothin’.” he shrugged. “May I?”

He gestured toward the garbage bags sitting on the ground and bent over to pick them up.

“You don’t have to!” you tried to stop him, but subconsciously you knew it would be pointless.

Frank was always a gentleman and while he knew you would have no trouble carrying them on your own, he wouldn’t feel right not offering a hand.

“Can I atleast carry one of them?” you asked sweetly.

There was that damn smile again. How could he say no?

The two of you walked in silence for a bit, it wasn’t awkward but it was clear you were both trying to think of what to say next.

How do two people that recently spent a week pretending to be a couple go back to normal?

You decided to break the silence as the two of you walked back toward the bar.

“I, um, never got to properly thank you for helping with my family. I know it was probably a bit weird but it meant more to me than you could ever know. I think my parents would’ve had us get married that same night if it were up to them.” you laughed, playing nervously with your hands.

“Is that right?” Franked looked down at you with an amused expression.

“God, yes. I think you’re probably gonna be the only guy I bring home that they will ever like. I actually feel bad for the next guy that has to live up to the great Frank Castle.” you nudged him as you walked and he let out the most glorious laugh you’d ever heard.

You wanted to hear that more.

“Well if i’m the measuring stick for all the future men in your life then it’s your parents I feel sorry for.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, playfully swatting his shoulder, “What do you mean by ‘all the future men in your life’? You think I still got a revolving door of men to get through before I finally settle down?”

It was meant to be playful banter, but there was a look that settled in Frank’s eyes and the mood suddenly got a bit more serious.

“I sure hope not.”

You weren’t sure how to take his comment. Maybe you were over analyzing but there was a part of you that was hoping he said that because he wanted you.

Wishful thinking of course.

You cleared your throat to help ease the tension.

“So, you just get back from whatever mystery place you squandered off to?”

“Just taking care of some business, sweetheart.”

That famous phrase again. You simply nodded. Accepting once again that you would probably not get any further information than that.

“But you know it’s funny.” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “There I was, lying in bed in some run down roach motel off the highway, having a hell of time trying to fall asleep each night.

“It coulda been the state of the motel—that place was a real shitbox—but the more I laid there, the more I realized it felt like I was missing something.”

Frank started fidgeting a bit. Almost like he was nervous or something. It was strange. You didn't think a guy like him got nervous.

“I realized, I kinda liked sharing the bed with you.”

Your heart started hammering away in your chest. Did you hear him right? Frank Castle liked sharing a bed with you? So much so that it was keeping him up at night?

You had to be dreaming.

“Really?”

You tried to act nonchalant but the word came out all high and squeaky. You don’t think Frank noticed though.

“Yeah, believe it or not I’d gotten so used to having no covers at night, I just tossed the damn thing on the ground.”

You gasped and punched his shoulder slightly. “Hey, I warned you I would probably take all the blankets. You coulda pulled them right back.”

Frank laughed again.

“Nah, you were too cute wrapped up like a burrito. Besides, I was more worried if I tried you’d whack my head or kick my nuts. You sure do move around a lot in your sleep.”

You feigned hurt, placing a hand to your chest.

“And just why do you miss sharing a bed with me so much? It doesn't sound so pleasant based on what you’re saying.”

Frank looked off and smiled. “I don’t know.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you.

“Look, uh, I’m not really good at this. I’ve been out of the game for a long time so you’ll have to forgive me but-”

“Frank Castle.” you cut him off.

“Yeah?”

“Are you about to ask if you can sleep in my bed tonight?”

Frank’s eyebrows shot up and a panicked sort of look took residence on his face. “Shit, no I didn’t mean it like that. I was just-”

He stopped when he saw you throw your head back in laughter.

“What?” he asked, trying to fight off the smile that was beginning to form on his own face. Your laugh was just too damn contagious.

“I’m sorry,” you said between breaths,”You shoulda seen your face. I was just messing with you Frank.”

“Oh yeah?” he laughed, poking your side. “You think that shit was funny huh?”

Suddenly you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and over Frank’s shoulder. “I can be real fucking hilarious. How about I carry you home just like this?”

“Frank!” you screamed playfully, swatting at his back. “Put me down you asshole!”

“No, I think I like this view better.”

You continued to hit his back and laugh. You were just about to come back with your own smart comment when you heard a car pull up beside you.

“Is everything alright here?”

You turned to look, adjusting your hair so it was out of your face. It was an officer staring at you both with a confused expression.

You could’ve sworn you heard Frank growl a little bit.

“Uh we’re good officer!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

“She had a bit too much to drink tonight. Tried to drive home. Just makin sure she gets home safe. She’s a stubborn thing.” Frank spoke up, making sure to pat your ass for dramatic effect.

The officer seemed to buy this story.

“Well miss, you got a good man there. You should probably listen to him more often.” he replied before rolling up the window.

You gasped and Frank roared with laughter.

“Thanks officer!” he shouted as the man drove away.

You poked his side hard and he finally released you, setting you down in front of him. Your faces were real close together now, and the smiles you both had slowly fell.

There was a quiet moment before you quickly leaned in and kissed Frank. He seemed surprised at first but thankfully responded and pulled you in tighter.

His hands roamed your body while yours held his face.

You pulled away gently, and he rested his forehead on yours.

“You know, I thought you’d been avoiding me.” you said quietly.

“Yeah?” he replied, moving a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I know you disappear sometimes but I thought this time was gonna be different.”

Frank nodded, running his hands down your shoulders before grabbing both of your hands in his own.

“You know, I got a confession.” he said quietly, “I swiped that phone charger before we left.”

You leaned back and looked up at him.

“What?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “I know it’s stupid but I wanted an excuse to see you again. Like I said, it's been a while since I’ve done anything like this and I didn’t think I could just approach you in the bar like before.”

“It’s not stupid.” you smiled, squeezing his hands. “It’s sweet.”

“So i’m sweet now? Just a second ago I was a asshole.”

“Both can be true.” you shrugged.

He scoffed. “Come here.”

Frank pulled you into him and you wrapped your arms around his waist. He placed a kiss on your head and it suddenly felt like it did when you were with your parents.

It just felt natural.

“Let me take you out.” he said, pulling back and tilting your chin up at him. “On a real date.”

You bit your lip and smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Good.” he replied before kissing you again.

“Now let’s go before that cop comes back around and you gotta act drunk for him.”

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever you say, Frank. I gotta listen to you more right?”

“Attagirl.” he smiled, before putting his arm around your shoulder.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #the punisher #frank castle angst #frank castle x you #jon bernthal

[puppyeared]

i think the reason why im so drawn to spirit tracks and pkmn scarvi is that having the legendary/princess as a companion rather than a goal that marks the games completion makes me feel satisfied the way i would after helping a friend

my brother always teases me about how I still havent finished botw after almost 7 years bc "id rather be out picking flowers" which i wont say is untrue. and yes i know Zeldas been holding off ganon for 100 years, yes i can get some sort of idea what her relationship with link was like by recalling memories and going through her diary. ive always loved botw for its unique storytelling and setting which makes it stand out, because it lets you get to know who you're saving.

but because theyre memories, it only works if theres something for the player to investigate that already happened. its retroactive (but effective nonetheless)

on the other hand, spirit tracks does something similar but instead of having the player try to piece together memories and interpret them as a spectator, you actually have an opportunity to get to know zelda yourself by talking to her and working together. besides making it a gameplay mechanic, giving the player control over how they interact with zelda makes it so much more personable.

and I find that making the goal feel personal instead of an obligation gives me more of a reason to work towards it. I know what kind of person botw zelda was but as the player, shes still very much a stranger to me. but spirit tracks zelda? thats my friend!!!! she invited me to go to the beach after we get her body back!!! i dont want to whip her to make her move faster thats mean :(

you know how hostage negotiators are trained to introduce themselves and get to know the person theyre negotiating with because its harder to hurt someone when you know what their favorite food is? its kinda like that, because it feels like im helping a friend than being told or led to do smth

and although i havent played scarvi myself, i feel an attachment to koraidon and miraidon even just watching playthrough clips because its like!! thats my weird scaly dog!! it loves sandwiches and we're friends!!! you know!!!!!!

#i dont normally write long posts like this but i think ive been trying to put this into words for a long time and it finally happened #my cloth mother spirit tracks zelda and my wire mother lttp zelda #ACTUALLY ANOTHER THING when i was a kid i always felt guilty when i had to catch the legendary at the end of the game #because to me it was like 'i know none of this is real but if i capture you and have you under my thumb am i robbing the world of something #normal thoughts for a 10 year old to have #when i talked to my brother abt this he was like 'i mean yeah the point is to dunk on the NPCs what were you expecting' and i mean i think #i get that its supposed to feel rewarding because the legendary is THE reward. but it doesnt feel right and i dislike he feeling of pushing #others down to get ahead. i guess u can argue sun/moon does smth similar where you have nebby with lillie #but lillie still ends up handing nebby over to the player and i STILL feel bad because im like shit man you raised that little guy #and koraidon/miraidon feels less like a reward but more like overpowered motorcycle lizard that is just so oupydog. and i love him #and in spirit tracks i went out of my way doing some of the side quests bc zelda asked nicely and honestly that was enough for me #i think all of this boils down to.. i feel very protective abt things i care abt so stories that give me a reason to care hits harder #this can also go the other way bc i CRIED when i finished links awakening because i KNEW every person and im responsible for #literally the end of their world. like. there was a family with 5 kids. marin loved singing and cared about me. she was my FRIEND #i just. ugh. i have too many feelings rn. i kinda wanna draw more spirit tracks link and zelda i think that wld make me feel better #yapping #diary #loz #pokemon

[harrowharkwife]

for the character meme: dulcie or cam or pal or a character of ur choosing!!! hehe

!!!!! ty lem!! im gonna do my girl dulcie...

favorite thing about them: honestly just the way she's written- it never fails to make me emotional that she *is* explicitly written as being brave and strong, but tamsyn neatly sidesteps the "inspiration porn" ableist stereotype of writing a character as being brave/strong *because* they are sick. dulcie isn't brave or strong because of her illness. her strength and bravery are explicitly positioned, IMO, as being in response to surviving *ableism* and other people's condescension towards her and mistreatment of her, rather than surviving her illness itself, if that makes sense. her health is just a fact of her life, it's not moralized. which i really, really appreciate. it's a small shift, but it's very meaningful to me.

ALSO deeply special to me: her intentional and careful commitment to boundaries re: The Palamedes Of It All. a refreshing change of pace, as far as these books go vgjtjxdjt

least favorite thing about them: i mean. houser. :/

favorite line: three way tie between "truly, wonderful news for my haters," "i am sick of roses and horny for revenge," and "oops, there i go again, never doing what i'm told"

brOTP: gideon!!!!! i think it's a crying shame they've never met. i think they'd get along tremendously. the whole cytherea gideon thing was Horrid and Awful in so many ways, but it always Extra stings (in an adding-insult-to-injury sort of way) when i think about what it would have been like if gideon had REALLY met dulcinea, and not cyth. dulcie would've been a great friend for her, i think. they'd have been so good at making each other laugh

OTP: honestly these days it's cam? @ palamedes ily but get outta here gayboy it's yuri time now. plus i just love chewing on the concept of cam + comphet, and cam + subconscious internalized misogyny, and cam + gender, and cam + her relationships and interactions with other women. i think there's lots to explore there. camdulcie has a certain "when i was eight i didn't realize i had a crush on the new girl in my grade so i just wrote her a note that said 'get out of my school'" energy about it, To Me

nOTP: idk if i really have one for her, specifically? idk. ianthe or something, fuck it.

random headcanon: stoner. on all levels except physical she is taking fuckall huge bong rips. on the physical level though her lungs suck so i think she'd be a tincture girlie. she's got chronic pain she deserves it. am i projecting? you tell me

unpopular opinion: idk if this is an unpopular opinion exactly, but i always see people referring to thee rejected proposal as being something born primarily out of love/out of romantic intent? and i don't know if that's necessarily how i see it. it was CERTAINLY, and obviously, a factor. but at least from my interpretation of pal's monologue to cytherea at the end there, i get the sense that he had already accepted her boundaries in that regard, because he says he "understood that he was a child." and we also get camilla saying that his motivations in proposing were primarily a means-to-an-end way of getting her off the seventh and letting her die with dignity. iirc her exact words were like "so she could spend what time she had left with people who cared about her." like, don't get me wrong, i think pal is lying to himself if he says that being in love with dulcie wasn't PART of the motivation there. but i find it a lot more interesting in a worldbuilding and social commentary way to interpret the circumstances there as him offering, essentially, to be a hospice doctor at age 19, and marriage being the 'easiest' way to get her off the seventh/planet medical malpractice. there's an imperial misogyny ownership-through-marriage throughline there that's nauseating, as well as the implications re: disability and agency and autonomy, and i think that's all very interesting to explore. i think this view is supported in part by the paldulcie interaction in TUG, where she alludes to the idea that she was cognizant about the impact that bearing witness to death and loss up-close and personal like that changes a person, and that she didn't want to do that to pal and cam, especially given their age. i think it informa dulcie's character and grants her additional narrative agency to look at things from that angle, of her "no" being in reference to *both* the age gap AND her intentional choice to continue suffering on the seventh, rather than put two kids through being hospice caregivers and/or widowers at nineteen– no matter how many times and how sincerely they kept offering, no matter that she would've absolutely had a more peaceful and comfortable end-of-life HAD she accepted his proposal and gone to the sixth to die. i think it says a lot about her as a person, that choice. there's a quiet and meaningful responsibility to her as a person that i find fascinating. and her character is just sooooo firmly rooted in and informed by disability politics, on every level, and i feel like people don't engage with that aspect of her characterization enough!

song i associate with them: ooooh SO many, i have a whole playlist. but i think the biggest ones are

-the drama by kesha ("friday night, get too high, keep checking my pulse, am i dead yet?" / "in the next life i wanna come back, as a housecat as a housecat! i'd sleep and play in the sun, i'd be a fuckin' cute son of a gun!")

-avant gardener by courtney barnett (the whole song really, but especially the lines "the paramedic thinks i'm clever cause i play guitar, i think she's clever cause she stops people dyin'," and "i take a hit off an asthma puffer, i do it wrong, i was never good at smokin' bongs." i just think she'd love this song.)

-honorable mentions include stoned at the nail salon by lorde, life according to raechel by madison cunningham, rose-colored boy by paramore (@ palamedes, lmfao), picture me better by weyes blood, extraordinary machine by fiona apple, rubberband girl by kate bush, last words of a shooting star by mitski.

favorite picture of them: oh man well it obviously has to be my icon... art made for me by the lovely @franzias-cave !!!! based on the concept of "the woman is dying, please do her the decency of allowing her to look the part in fanart." my girl... she's a malign fairy, she's a hot-eyed wraith <3

ty lem this was so fun! i love my gworl :')

[andypantsx3]

A few months into your relationship, Shouto catches on to your weird behavior around his apartment.

“I don’t want to ruin anything,” you finally admit when he notes his observation—about how you tiptoe around his living room of designer furnishings, how you never seem to settle comfortably into his couch, how you carry his glassware with all the pomp and ceremony of an Olympic torch.

“They are just things. This is a home,” Shouto says, like that at all negates the fact that you could break a single one of his salad bowls and spend the rest of your life repaying the debt.

“Hella expensive things in a very nice home,” you reply. “I am not falling asleep and accidentally drooling onto your ten bajillion dollar couch, Shouto.”

Only the tiniest of creases between his brows tell you he’s displeased. “I would like you to be comfortable here. I do mean that they are just things.”

You shake your head. Shouto can be as unfussed as he wants, on his pro hero salary with his fat inheritance slapped on top like a dollop of cream on life’s richest slice of pie. But you were raised in a hand-me-down home, furniture and housewares either inherited or thrifted from generations past, and you are not about to play any kind of game that would leave his couch as worn down as your family’s ancient, squashy sofa with the tears hidden on the undersides of the cushions.

“I’m good, Sho,” you say reassuringly. “I’m just going to take my best care of your things.” You pat his couch ever so lightly for emphasis, so gently it almost doesn’t make a sound.

Shouto watches you for a long moment. His eyes pick over you carefully, and he says nothing, until finally his expression shifts. 

You watch with suspicion as his face suddenly goes meticulously blank, and you realize you know that look. It’s the perfectly unreadable poker face that almost always precedes peak little shit behavior.

“Whatever thought you are having is a million percent no from me,” you say quickly, but Shouto’s hand is already closing over your thigh, tugging you closer to him across the luxurious fabric of the very couch you have tried never to crease.

“Shouto, do not fuck with this couch,” you tell him as the material of your pants makes a fwip across the sofa fabric. Shouto arches a perfect brow at you.

“If you will not believe me that I do not care about the state of this couch,” he pronounces evenly, “then I will just have to show you.”

Before you can even demand an explanation, he’s rearranging you to his liking, stretching out over you and pressing you down into the sofa with intent. 

Then it dawns on you exactly what he’s about to do.

“Wait, Sho—the bedroom—” you garble out, as your heart rate picks up into double time under his anchoring weight.

Shouto lowers his face to yours, mismatched eyes glittering like gemstones in the low light. “We’ll get there love,” he says, his low, soft tone shivering right up your spine. “But first, we’ll start here.”

His gaze grows heavier with promise, and a long-fingered hand skims up the side of your shirt. Your breathing stills. 

“I’m going to have you over every single surface in this apartment,” he says. “Again and again, love. Until you understand that there is only one thing in this house that I consider priceless.”

His mouth presses to yours, softly, as he shifts into the cradle of your thighs.

“And that,” he says against your mouth, sounding satisfied at the little shivery exhale this draws out of you, “that one, single priceless thing...is you.”

#i have no idea what this is #class differences/sugar daddy sho got ahold of me again idk #im not responsible for the things i write #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto

[strawberrystepmom]

okay so i do have a question for everyone and it's do you think that the smut you write directly reflects your own personal sexual tastes and interests or do you change what you write a little bit to make it more palatable for bigger audiences?

#im only asking bc i rly thought about it the other day and tbh as far as kinks go i rly do not write about a lot of mine bc i feel like #they have a lot of responsibility in how they're written bc they are not like super kinky or weird #but things like restraints #and heavy dom sub dynamics i feel are better written by someone else #like dont get me wrong i love missionary i love the stuff i write about too #but like my heavier kinks idk i dont always feel comfortable writing about them but i feel like that's just me

[topaziraphale]

"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,

The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"

Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.

What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.

#derpy speaks #good omens #good omens 2 #no i dont think crowley is gonna ever hate aziraphale for what happened but he's allowed to be angry #he's allowed to be done with it all. he's allowed to be exhausted. just look at his face when he drives away. #meh. idk. but i dont know how i'll feel if crowley just INSTANTLY accepts aziraphale back in a situation involving #idk - ''hey help me stop the new apocalypse'' #at least. without like. SOME pushback? it can even be something small like ''are you SURE you want ME to help you? do you really need me?'' #doesnt have to be a straight refusal but i'd like SOME kind of action to show that crowley is putting his foot down for once #he deserves that self respect #do NOT reply saying that im insinuating that aziraphale is actively malicious or doing it on purpose. #everything he has done up until now is his own complicated response to all the trauma and guilt he's been through #but despite that crowley is STILL allowed to be upset... it's messy. i can write a whole paper about how this whole thing #is just unfortunate on both ends. again. we didnt get queerbaited we got communication baited 😭 #but help me out here. am i just too fandom-brained to have these expectations from the story? #is there something obvious im missing that is making me sound like a complete asshole here? do i need to get my head out of the gutter? #someone please explain it to me if so because whatever it is‚ i can't find it #not queued

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

#hellsing #alucard #kouta hirano #translation was found in a comment by u/lazyfoxheart on r/Kurrent #fun fact this is the highest quality version of this image that exists online #i know because i've been looking forever for a version that's clear enough to actually read what hirano wrote under '1443' #but there weren't any so i had to take matters into my own hands #the real image on the back of the guidebook is only 2 inches tall so i had to take this with my smartphone and will my hands not to shake #anyway i'm pretty sure it's supposed to say Eğrigöz (the location vlad was imprisoned) so yeah. thank you hirano very cool #if i might rant for a sec it took me an embarrassingly long time to figure that out because i didn't have the guidebook at first #and in the images i could find online that part was just a blur that looked suspiciously like a person's signature and i was like. who tf #i was thinking matthias corvinus since he issued some political propaganda against vlad iirc but it didn't match his signature on wikipedia #then i thought it might be vlad II dracul's since he probably had to sign an agreement to send his sons over as hostages at some point #but that didnt seem right either so i kept skimming vlad's wiki page #and then i was like goddammit...hirano.....you just misspelled Eğrigöz didn't you.. .... #i maybe should've made a separate post dedicated to this instead of writing a novel in the tags but eh #the hellsing brainrot runs deep #also- i put it in the source link at the bottom of the post but the german inscription is copied off a real woodcut of vlad from 1491 #except instead of depicting him as an adult hirano drew him as a child which gives the inscription a very different feel imo #the one final thing that interests me about this is the fact that hirano published this calendar in 2002 #which is REALLY early in the series. like this was before volume 5 came out?? #i have no idea why he decided to do a massive spoiler drop in a random piece of japan-only merch #sandwiched between a drawing of alucard as john travolta from saturday night fever and integra as a fish no less #it makes me really curious to know what the fan response to this was back then. like did people even know who this was #maybe im just an idiot and everyone back then was like 'ah yes its alucard as a 12 year old. how very informative'

[stevethehairington]

really fucking sick and tired of people who really fucking love the eddie book jumping on people who don't like or are even remotely critical of it's posts and like crusading their opinions around from the top of their high horses and shoving it down our throats.

if you like the book, great! that's awesome! love that for you! i am genuinely glad that you were able to find good in it and enjoy it!!

but not everyone did, and not everyone is going to agree with you. so, instead of going on some grand crusade where you find every single post that includes anything even remotely negative or negative adjacent or even neutrally critical and spending ALL this time and effort trying to provide unwanted rebuttals to every single thing, maybe you should just stay in your lane and find people who DO like the book and chat about it with them.

because i can PROMISE YOU, none of us appreciate it when you come onto our posts and start accusing us of "hating on" the author or "being rude" about her and her work and RIDICULOUS shit like that.

being critical of something and pointing out it's flaws is NOT inherently hating on it. i, frankly, do not know where people got that notion, but it's not fucking true so can we fucking quit assuming it is? and, critiquing something is also NOT the same as saying this is shit and it sucks and the author is a piece of garbage. again, where the fuck that came from is beyond me. you can be critical of something and still enjoy it. as soooo many of you love to point out, it's not perfect, why should it be perfect? so D U H. of course that means criticism can and should arise???

also. hot take (by which i mean ice fucking cold because it's NOT a fucking hot take), but going around toting FALSE facts as part of your "defense" does not make you or your argument look good. you, like the author, should maybe do a basic fact check first. 🙃

tldr, if you like the book, that's genuinely great, but stay in your fucking lane and stop seeking out posts from people who didn't like it to start shit in the notes.

#flight of icarus #stranger things #this has happened to me and to so many of my friends and im fucking SICK of it #i didn't even hate the book either!! i thought it was just okay #and yet i STILL get all these book lovers jumping down my throat about things i say about the book #things that - HONESTLY are not even like that scathing!!!!! #like god damn all im asking for is a little BASIC effort from the author and they all think thats me asking for her head on a platter #its NOT #i have no problem with the author #she's whatever to me honestly just a vessel through which the book was given to us #ALSO she is some nebulous blob way outside my orbit. AS IN any critiques i have of her and her work are NOT direct assaults on her??? #like i dont fucking KNOW her #im not saying any of this to her face #she is a published writer she should KNOW the risks she is taking when she publishes her writing #not everyone is going to like it! there are going to be people who are critical of it! there are going to be people who hate it! #critiques and pointing out mistakes and wishing for things to have been different is not a fucking direct attack #those things are actually pretty fucking common responses to ANYTHING #and a lot of times theyre actually meant as useful helpful things geared towards improvement and not something to tear someone down with #some people on the internet need to go touch grass and learn how to CRITICALLY THINK again #the world is not as black and white as you think #n e ways. rant over. if you stuck around through all of that kudos to you. i am just. at the end of my rope with this bullshit.

[birdsong-warriors]

SwiFT, WE CAN SEE YOU.

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Part 1: Friend and Family

See up to thirty pages ahead, with timelapses, on Patreon!

Backgrounds, brushes, and other assets for sale on my Ko-Fi!

#gosh the response to rhe last page set genuinely made me cry #im so blown away by your guys' support #like i try really hard not to directly reference too many specific cultures/histories because i dont feel it would be my place to do so?? #tiger's tyranny is inspired by a LOT both real and fictional and its a bit scary to write given his soft spot for his family #i dont want him to seem too relatable hes still awful #gonna stop talking i feel like im probably making no sense #or worse making sense but not saying things right #hhhh okay #swifthawk's chance #blood and bone #implied racism #ask to tag #comic pages #in case its not clear swift is only half joking but tiger assumes its all a joke lol #featherpaw #feathertail #leopardfur #leopardstar #swiftpaw #swifthawk #tigerclaw #tigerstar #tawnypaw #tawnypelt #brick #bloodclan #they just sittin there like 'man this is fun to watch lol'

[vorestarr]

thoughts on vampirism as a symbol of trauma

i've been thinking about this in relation to Astarion's story arc for a while and started writing this post a couple times, only to have it become much longer than expected, so for now this post is just going to be about the different paths of ascension vs spawn from the end of his personal quest. (i think there are multiple ways to read his story, and this is just the way i've been reading and thinking about it.)

the basic idea of this post is that Astarion's vampirism is a physical manifestation or symbol of his trauma, and therefore the two different ending paths for him are distinguished by how he addresses his vampirism (and therefore trauma).

it's pretty clear that the vampirism itself is a traumatic experience for Astarion, from how he describes almost dying, then actually dying, and then everything that comes afterwards at Cazador's hands. but i think of this a step further, in that the actual symptoms of vampirism are also part of this. there's an idea that there are physical manifestations of traumatic experiences held in the body, even if the trauma itself was psychological in nature (i.e., the body keeps the score). this is how i read vampirism for Astarion, specifically.

to start, he's turned into a vampire after a traumatic experience (almost being killed by a group of people one night). he's "saved" from this by Cazador turning him into a vampire, but still his body literally dies when he turns into a vampire, which is another separate traumatic event where he feels himself die and then has to climb out of his own grave. (also noted, i believe it's hinted that Cazador orchestrated the attack on Astarion that almost killed him in the first place, so Cazador is the cause of all of this trauma in one event that is Astarion becoming a vampire.)

his body is physically changed by the experience. he loses things because of it, maybe things that were not particularly important to him but now seem incredibly important once they're gone (like walking in the sun) or things that were previously important to him and now he can no longer enjoy (living indulgences and pleasures like food, or his own reflection). also critically, he cannot get those things back. his life is changed (literally ended) and there's no fixing it.

he learns coping strategies during the subsequent 200 years, which i will not get into in this post, but suffice to say that he learned things that he believed would protect him in the moment.

after the tadpole when he experiences freedom from Cazador's influence for the first time, there are some critical shifts that happen to start him on a path to address these things, or not. the recent interview where the devs mention that the ascended path is one of fear, i really agreed with and have said similar things in previous posts, because to me, i think the main difference between how Astarion acts in those paths is that for ascension, he relies on the methods he learned in those 200 years to survive in the moment, while in the spawn path, he learns new ways to cope.

to elaborate on that, i think the ascension path specifically is about avoidance.

in trauma, avoidance is what it sounds like: avoiding any triggers or negative emotions related to the traumatic experience. the avoidance can manifest in different ways, but a key idea is that by avoiding those negative feelings, they are never actually addressed.

i think there are two big ways this manifests in Astarion's story, related to vampirism:

ascended Astarion is avoiding those negative feelings of fear of Cazador (or someone else doing what Cazador did) by focusing on seizing power and control. if he's more powerful, in control of a situation, then nothing bad can happen to him again. the way this ties back to vampirism as a symbol of trauma is that this is literally described to us in the game as the natural course of life for vampires: they live in fear of other vampires, fear of their own spawn seizing their power, etc. this is the story of Vellioth and Cazador, and then later Cazador and Astarion (regardless of the choice he makes to ascend or not). we even get a list of vampires where ALL their life spans/eras of power are timed so that we can infer that each subsequent vampire has killed the previous vampire to dethrone them. so, vampirism itself is trauma and the known course of vampirism is this same cycle we see repeated with multiple vampires and histories in game. by taking a different path and not becoming a full vampire, spawn Astarion has started to learn a new way of dealing with his vampirism/trauma, rather than avoiding it.

the OTHER major way i see this manifest in the game is how ascension and spawn paths deal with the literal symptoms of vampirism: walking in the sun, Astarion's reflection, food versus drinking blood, the vampiric state of undeath, etc. these are all things that changed about Astarion when he became a vampire, and things that (in the normal course of events) cannot be changed back. he died, he's dead, there's no curing his vampirism. in other words, there's no going back to who he was before the traumatic experiences. that by itself is a neutral statement, the same way that there's no going back to who a person is before any major event (be it meeting someone important, choosing to take a certain job, etc etc), because we are all constantly changing and growing. HOWEVER, i think the places with Astarion where this stops being neutral is how he addresses that fact: with acceptance or avoidance.

to elaborate on the second point, which is my main reason for making this post:

on the spawn path, Astarion learns new ways to be and to live with his vampirism. in his epilogue, he can mention that he's not bothered by losing the sun again, he can describe finding a sense of belonging with others who share his vampirism, and he can define himself in new ways that he's picked for himself rather than stay in the definition of vampire that Cazador held.

in the ascension path, Astarion avoids all of those difficult realizations and choices. he falls back on the same strategies that helped him survive in the moment for those 200 years, but which can and do hurt him after escaping that environment. he's working hard to keep from addressing those negative feelings -- and on the surface, this works! he can walk in the sun without the tadpole! he has new vampire powers and he can do all the things he lost when he died! he can see his own reflection again! but, he's still a vampire, still has his fangs, still has his red eyes.

this is why i think the route is characterized by fear and why i found that interview with the devs interesting: by focusing on all those avoidance behaviors, Astarion ends up being stuck in a state of mind that's all about fear because it's all about avoiding that feeling. he feels great in the moment because he has been able to claim back some of what was taken from him, but this is not a solution because he's still a vampire.

personally, i do not read the ascension path as continuing a cycle of abuse, but as the continuation of avoiding the painful process of healing from trauma.

ascended Astarion is elated after killing Cazador because he feels the power flowing through him and it makes him feel safe in the moment, and because he is avoiding addressing any lingering feelings of pain or negativity, including avoiding addressing that he just killed 7000 people.

spawn Astarion meanwhile looks absolutely miserable immediately after killing Cazador when he cries and breaks down, and then he feels numb later because he's so overwhelmed. this i think resembles something that can happen in trauma therapy, where a person feels worse when they initially start addressing and working through their trauma, because it means actually feeling all of those negative emotions they've been avoiding.

in the end, ascended Astarion has not changed how he addresses his trauma or vampirism, and the ascension has actually given him more tools to continue avoidance. spawn Astarion meanwhile is exploring other ways of living with his vampirism, and can be experiencing success with that by the time the epilogue rolls around (even if there are some bumps and regressions along the way, like losing his ability to walk in the sun again).

because this is my main reading, i also don't think this makes ascended Astarion evil or irredeemable -- i think he shows that he does still have all the emotions that he's displayed through the game and therefore he still has the potential to follow the same path that spawn Astarion did in healing. but, the critical thing with the ascension path is that he does not have the clear motivation or triggering event to start him down that path. he's further away from that, and it will take more work to get there. everything he did after all comes back to the ways he learned to survive under Cazador, so those behaviors helped him at one point. the issue is that he's past the point of those things helping him, but he can't let them go.

tl;dr: i like looking at vampirism itself as a physical symbol of trauma and as a way to read Astarion's potential storylines, because it provides a context for me to view how the ascension and spawn paths treat his vampiric symptoms -- avoiding them in the ascension path by giving him an "out" of sorts to avoid addressing how those symptoms impact his life because of the extra abilities granted to him by the ritual, versus being forced to grapple with them and figure out a way to life with them and even enjoy them on his own terms in the spawn ending.

if you read this whole post, thanks for sticking with me and feel free to share your thoughts too. :)

#astarion #meta #astarion ancunin #i have a whole other post related to this about some specific in game events so i will link it here when im done writing that... #but for now this is just a brain dump of some things ive been thinking of when i think about his story #i really love ascended astarion tbh and i find his path really cathartic and validating when it comes to trauma responses #but i also love and appreciate the way that the game shows how spawn astarion hurts and has to hurt in order to heal #idk i just really enjoy his character and both paths and i haven't been viewing them as 'good' or 'bad' paths/endings #and just wanted to share my thoughts and framing for how i approach him :)

[worstloki]

been thinking of Loki as a vengeful ghost/demon that tries to kill Thor after dying on Jotunheim except instead of killing Thor straightup Thor's on a quest following a trail of weird clues and strange happenings across multiple realms sort of? so Loki is just leading him around not showing himself but very much heartbroken in the distance about how Thor just 'moved on'. Meanwhile on Thor's end it's very evident in how Thor handles quests once Loki is gone that he still follows all the advice and suggestions Loki made, and tries to consider what Loki would have done when he does things.

#im not writing it because i have too many works in progress already but do you see my vision #do you understand the vibe i am going for #tragic death Loki and Thor who never processed Loki's death beyond 'he's not here right now' #and this is maybe like. way after Loki's death. like at least a century later so no Thor doesn't immediately suspect anything #is it strange that he's witnessed multiple similar occurrences and connecting clues across multiple realms like they're for him? #yes. #but he thinks he's being so suave and detective about solving this mystery and suspects a powerful malicious demon figure to be behind it #not his dead brother who he feels wholly responsible for having died since he was the one that dragged them to Jotunheim for fun #Loki who died confused and resentful about so many things and upon realizing he's Not Exactly Stayed Dead deciding he was abandoned #because no one returned for his body but they also never explained anything to him which meant he had to seek answers himself AFTER HE DIED #reasonable to say he wasn't happy about it and isn't out to hurt random strangers #but Thor and Asgard? #he has a vendetta and he has it planned out so neatly #sans the part where he actually. kills Thor. because he only thinks he wants that #he would do it too if Thor didn't get reasonable about Loki wanting revenge at the end #'when did Thor get mature' Loki wonders bitterly. like it's such a mystery

[angelpuns]

I have spent all afternoon/night trying not to rot and I don't even know how to explain what that means but oh my god I'm so- urrgehfhrh I'm like- everything just feels so bad

#vent #tw vent #pls dont respond to this #i had a longer version of this earlier but deleted :) #also pls dont send messages saying youll pray for me #that is quite actually the opposite of what i need rn #sorry for venting on main i just have to write things and know that someone sees them #even tho i dont want responses i just #urgh #im literally rotting from the inside out #idk how else to describe this feeling #and i am trying v hard to keep it at bay

[unnerving-presence]

im gonna be honest writing is so draining at this point and i don’t even enjoy it anymore

#i don’t know if people like what i do #it’s not even worth posting if i know i’m going to get absolute radio silence on all of my posts #it’s like i don’t want to leave this blog hanging but writing is such a chore #i cant enjoy it if i know i’m not going to get any feedback for the things i write #it just feels like throwing a note out into the darkness and not being sure you’ll ever get a response #anyways give me like a month or two and i might post another request this shits wack atp #i don’t care about likes or reblogs or whatever #just knowing people like what i do is enough #BUT I DONT KNOW #im absolutely in the dark here and i feel like i can’t work with any of the requests i have

[istherewifiinhell]

IS FLYING GENDERED?

On the masculine default, typifying gender in genre, and women as the other in the transformers cartoons.

question for the ages

once again i said back in the halcyon days of watching g1 (aka 5 months ago) i was like. Nooooo, decepticon is NOT a gender that's Silly. It's funny, but as a Read Of The Text, I thought it largely unneeded. (The concept came about, as a joke, involving dismissing the bad guys using the same language you would abt women (sexistly) that they're emotional [heh, flighty], vain, and shrill) after all. If in the 80s era there are 5 whole named/speaking woman tfs, its only ever gonna get better from here right? (<- booboo the fool)

anyway

Let's consider the axiom that the assumed default gender is male, that maleness is often seen as LACK of gender, and femaleness and gender variance are the PRESENCE of gender. In certain reasoning and worldviews, of course (See Androcentrism). Then add that, for transformers, the assumed default thing a transformer turns into, is car. (Autocentrism, if you will)

(The most general term for what a tf turns into is "Alt mode" as some of them are not vehicles at all. The other mode is "Robot Mode", whether its humanoid or not)

So I will be laying out why I believe the cartoon iterations support: non standard alt modes = non standard genders. This is in spite of the fact that FIRST lady tfs were all cars. Sleek cyber cars, but still. For whatever reason, (possibly, the reason for everything in tf, toys) they might as well not exist for how woman tf characters presence in the cartoons progressed over time.

And, to be clear, this is a reading of how these works of fiction are created, not a new unified bioessentialism but for robots aliens I'm proposing for like. In universe lore reasons. I hate that idea.

That said, alt modes in order of most to least gender: Spider, motorcycle, flying (in general, with rotors, jets), tank, and then FINALLY, car. (water and space crafts are already too marginal to rank, but they too can be assumed in relation to default maleness, AND that in making one a woman, would still qualify as othering her).

The NUMBER one reason for this is the bizarre need to have an ESTABLISHED woman tf character before making new ones. AS YOU MIGHT IMAGINE. With a g1 gender ratio something like.... (counting even the most marginal cases for the ladies) 9:120? (That's a rough count from a quick scanning of the tf wiki g1 char list) Shits dire out here.

The second is, ofc, character design based. cis people [stand in phrase for the hegemonic world view] are not okay, and their opinions about how tf gender must need be depicted visually is. uh? Im not a fan. Size and shape dimorphism in general is a given, and specifically having women tfs as far more humanoid and curvy in specific. Also general cartoon lady face syndrome but, whatever. I think there's exactly one character here who doesn't have "lips" or "lipstick" as a distinguishing factor. I'm so tired.

Third is generally, the idea of The Girl Of the Team. When there's The Girl, she often isn't JUST a normal character, who happens to be a girl. See, of course, the Smurtfette Principle. But in my view there's also a trend to give The Girl "special traits" on top of "Girl", maybe even to directly combat the idea that the Girl Character has no other traits? To stop this from being a General Primer on Woman in Media, my explanatory focus is things specific to the tf franchise.

(A phrase I use for thinking about normative modes [in general, not just the Alt ones] in within the tf universe is "unique transformerdom" or, even more clunkily, "A transformer of unique transformerdom". The excessive verbosity is amusing to me personally. All I mean by it is to have an umbrella term for any of the ways tfs can be made unique from their peers in the non allegorical realities of the fiction).

I could, and do, and greatly want to, speak about this AT LENGTH. But it keeps spiraling away from me. So I'll say for now were looking at ways a character is being depicted different from her peers, not because she is the only woman (which she likely is), but cause she's a different kind of transformer, AND if she's othered for it.

(IN SOME forms of the lore. Being a transformer woman, IS A UNIQUE KIND of transformer unto itself. Let's just say I hate it and move on)

Fourth, is the gender of villainy. There is much to be said about gender presentation of villains, the ways they are allowed to be aberrant. We will get to it. There is also all the tropes specific TO evil women, and the modes of villainy open TO female characters. But a general thing I think impacting the gender ratios of the factions is the how "Good" and "Evil" female characters are written. I'll generalize and call this the "Damsel vs Temptress" dichotomy. (See concepts like the Madonna-whore complex). Transformers, is by and large, an action franchise. Unless special reasons are made, characters who can impact the action– have more screen time, and likely more memorable, and iconic presences. A villainous woman can be unchaste, violent, aggressive. While a heroic woman, even if not a literal damsel are more likely to be in a support role. The secretaries of the action genre: medics and techs.

(Another factor is that tfs are giant robots, and the good guys are often friends with tiny squishy little humans. These make very good damsel fodder, and can be taking up the spots on the roster that might, in a different franchise, go to women. Additionally, while woman characters in transformers overall is an interesting topic. When I say tf women, I'm referring to ones that are in fictionally, transformers.)

SO, now understanding our points of attack/obstacles for getting woman into transformers. (Getting established, gendering the designed, uniqueness of existence, and general villainy). Lets go over those alt modes, and the characters that have em, in more detail.

Spiders

The "Beast Era" (1996) intro-ed the spider ofc. And what don't we have with this one. She's a villain, but shes also misunderstood, the era and design style let to these more organic shapes. And they used them to make sure she was very sexy. She's genre aware, she's quippy, she's an absolute icon. So naturally. She gets ported to other later shows. Which means we just have sexy spider ladies running around when everyone else is a fucking truck and shit.

Her own origin is, well think of her as a "Bride of Frankenstein" to the resident evil scientist, also a spider. She was designed for, and manipulated by him in multiple ways. Her protoform (A blank robot base), was supposed to be one of the good guys (a Maximal), but was reprogrammed into a bad guy (Predacon). Even then, she eventually joins them, for her own reasons. She's not even the first predacon to do so, the difference? Well the characters are a lot more NORMAL about his autonomy. Both of these characters stress that being a predacon is an identity they still see as important. But only the woman is told that really, she is was was always MEANT to be a maximal. And while that's true in a sense. There's also a plot were she's forced (by plot contrivance, not the other maximals) to get corrective robot surgery for it. And when they think she died from, everyone's more sad for her boyfriend than for her. Ouch.

The second spider, in the 2007 show, is now one in a world where she is the only "techno-organic" transformer, hence, she is spider, everyone else is a vehicle. Similar to the first, her narrative is very gendered, but less in the way were, like, I do literally think the first was was experiencing in universe sexism from other characters. Here, they really focus on the "techno vs organic" narrative, and the tragic circumstances on how that happened. In this case its just real world sexist writing.

THIRD SPIDER, (2010), instead of misunderstood and tragic evil, this ones just super mega likes to cause pain evil. She also occupies a strange place between the typic vehicular tfs, and the insecticons. This is because she has a helicopter alt mode, and her robot mode is just, a lady with spider characteristics. And, more than just a passing bug like similarity, she has the power to control the insecticons (you know, cause evil woman mind control). However, she doesn't fit in with them either, as the insecticons are at the most insect like they've ever been, in look, living in hives and that most don't even speak.

They may vary in exact character, relationship to the story's moral conflict, and design. But they stay comfortably established, dimorphised, flirty and flirting with villainy. And bonus points, always, for black widow spider trope.

SO. SPIDERS. Established: ✅️ Gendered designs: ✅️ (Extremely!) Unique: ✅️ Othered: ✅️ Villainy: ✅️

Motorcycles

Tooooo my knowledge the first bike lady was in 2004, and fairly minor, in the actual plot, but rest assured, they did go the previously established woman route, by being pink, though, which one shes named after varies by language. But neither were previously motorcycles. (And yes, there is also this problem of mixing together or swapping out one woman tf for another. As if we have the ladies to spare). Even though motorcycle men also exist, this one just stuck for a bit. Maybe something to do with Those Movies. I think the Gendered Existence of a motorcycle is pretty evident though, general sex appeal, being smaller, the mode of riding a motorcycle is different, more physical and intimate. Mainly this ranks so high for the level of grossness they can pack in. Just how objectifying it can be, particularly with two instances where the human rider is an annoying teen boy. Naturally, I've also never seen a male and female motorcycle in the same room, but the approach to design tends to be different. And yeah most of em are Arcee, who's first alt mode was cyber car, but it's not just her.

Established: ✅️ Gendered designs: ✅️ Unique: ✅️ Othered: Depends on iteration, I do NOT like the way one gets called "tough, for a two wheeler". Villainy: ❌(they wouldn't need to be motorcycles if they weren't making them the Special Girl Autobot, after all)

Flying

General: It just tends to stick out when your one girl is only flyer in the group, even she's otherwise tactfully done. Only flyer of the Maximals, a falcon, only flyer of the dinobots, a Pteranodon.

Rotors

I can barely even figure this one. Maybe it's just a general, aesthetics and use case of the actually vehicles, the associations? None of these ladies (and special case) are very connected otherwise. As previously mentioned, the spider helicopter. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A big one for this is the preschool demo shows, which are rescue team focused. In the first one the only woman on the human response worker team pairs with the helicopter, they mention she does medical at times. The helicopter is male, like the other tfs. But also he's afraid of flying, and while not the first case of a flyer with a fear of heights, their personalities are, pretty different. As he's both fearful AND effeminate, fine as character traits go but, with the tone of humour used, marks him as Other.

In the second, Whirl (pointing to icon) becomes a girl for the first time, now with standard humanized face. I assume as move to keep with the previous show of having a girl one, as there's no human team mates. She's also the only one who really likes rescue school. Aaaand that's all know of her. What more do you want from me.

Helicopters: Unique: ✅️ Othered: ✅️ (milder than some)

But why'd I call this section rotors instead of helicopters? That would be because one of the latest Sole Female TF we just put in everything™ is a VTOL jet with rotors. She'll tend to be the only jet of her type, which is also smaller than the type of jet used for the villains.

And, of course, aside from alt mode, the thing that makes her stand out most in the cartoons? That she's very clearly a comics character. (I find the emphasize that she's "fan created" over done, as it only controlled minor aspects, and irrelevant cause tfs get completely overhauled in new versions all the time). From her design, which is a bit busier than most characters she stars with. And also uses Japanese aesthetic signifiers in ways that I think are a bit misappropriated and untactful. (VERY USamerican comics). Also, when she stars next to a guy, also from comics employing Japanese aesthetic, you can tell its not deployed in the same manner. (E.I she has hair and makeup, he has armor). Either way, her depictions have her either as badass sword lady on mission from god who's constantly getting hit on by an annoying guy. Or have her be from a different planet and has special telepathy.

Do we see how both her gender AND the cultural signifiers are having affects here? That the main woman tf in a series can be a literal alien even among our alien robots, with cultural signifiers they don't have?

Ratings Established: ✅️ (made the comics to cartoon jump) Gendered designs: ✅️ Unique: ✅️ Othered: ✅️ (SO SO EXTREMELY, using methods in fiction and real life)

Jets

I think my association of jets with tf gender is stronger, than some of the above examples, even if there's less reason to it. And why is that? Well, lets get socratic. Here's another question.

Is This All Starscream's Fault?

No. He's not real, he can't do things. But. His legacy as THE main stay transformers character that gets to subvert gender? Yeah. (Sure, the G1 autobots have their own effete, but he's not in every single cartoon they ever made now is he? Plus now that I think about it, he is a FLYING car...)

From the get, he's not a Man's man. He's shrill, he's manipulative and duplicitous, petty and emotional, cowardly and wheedling. He is, of course, the Perfect character. Now naturally, the 80s cartoon was not concerned with your paltry logics. Starscream and his ilk are the jets, but every decepticon can fly. The gun, the cassette player, the camera, the cassettes.

And each to a last, more masculine than he is. Vocally or behaviorally, physically. Every one of them fit the gender expectations more than he does. Even being a small time grunt, is a masculine trait, after all, more so than unchecked ambition. So its not femininity from flying, from jets. But direct relationship, reference, and descendancy from Starscream that makes it. I've yet to see female versions of Jet fire and or the aerialbots, for example.

So what to do when an effeminate male villain was less maltese falcon and more that man has effeminate hips? Well. We had to start getting his ass for being effeminate, explicitly. They made the female clone of him, which yeah, is an offensive joke stemming from the various The Gender Anxieties. (Transmisogyny, homophobia and sexism. General relation toxic masculinity. A heady mix of all and more).

But I mean. It's free girl tf... Once given a name in extra canon materials, she start's showing up in other things. Once you're in books, video games, comics, and most importantly, toys, you're real. And then eventually, her first non clone appearance in a cartoon, and how her presence shaped it.

That being, Cyberverse. Which is a cgi show, you need to know this for reasons of production. Making new models is expensive. This has always been the reason you just make recolours of Starscream and name them different things. Chicken or egg on this one, I don't know, But because CV has Slipstream, and the only difference between her and the generic "male" decepticon jet, is a more feminine face; Suddenly, any random decepticon goon can be a woman.

An absolutely revolutionary take for striving to populate a fictional world with gender parity. By at large it also means they're way more lady villains, and specifically flying model of villain. The show has other woman, but none who get the same androgynous body mold treatment.

Established: ✅️ Gendered designs: Mildly to NO. Unique: By design, no. Othered: Yes for the clone, and Screamer himself, I suppose. No, otherwise. Villainy: ✅️(That's, the whole idea)

Tanks

It needs to be said. Sometimes, when doing things that transgress a norm, anteing up is less subversive. This is another reason why gender variance, female agency and overt sexuality are more common traits of villains. When already defying strictures of society. What's one more.

That's Right. TANKS ARE THE BUTCH WOMAN OF TRANSFORMERS.

Alright. Let me back up. Strika is the stone cold knock out undefeated champ of lady tf designs that, actually has a reoccurring cartoon presence. She is, admittedly, only a reoccurring to minor character.

Her introduction is in another show with techno-organics, this one involved in the struggle between well, the techno and the organic. Strika as we see her, and as the design that will go on to be iterated, is not in her normal transformer body. She has been transferred into a 'vehicon' body. Without a preexisting essence contained in one, vehicons are not considered alive, in the way a transformer is. Visually, they lack the more human body plan, a standard face, feet and hand like appendages.

To further contrast Strika against the two techno-organic woman. Both of them are tall, and slender. Their softer organic shapes designed towards elegance or beauty, whatever your subjective opinion of that result might be. They both have romance subplots too. By the way. Or honestly one subplot and one main plot. Strika. In contrast. Is built like a brick shit house. Her face is. Minimal. And her goal: protecting her planet... by terminating the heroes.

Now, existing as a character that can be referenced for other media, and given the detail that she was a "Famous general", it's off to the races. She makes a wonderful big tank menace that can fill out a background shot, too.

Without her I hardly think we could have Clobber, also from CV. Who is. The true goat. The finest thing, the achievements of all we could ever hope for. A big fuck off woman, gender swapped from a previous male design with minimal faff, with now even more personality and show presence. Friends, wants, desires. Emotions. Thank God for Clobber, Thank Clobber for Clobber. Thank Randolph Heard and Mae Catt for Clobber.

Established: Depends if you want to count that Strika had so much swag they kept drawing/modeling her Gendered designs: FUCK NO Unique: ✅️ Othered: only originally Villainy: ✅️

Cars

So now you have the final piece of the puzzle. In transformers, Autobots are Cars. Yes, there are plenty of autobots that are NOT cars, and there are cars that are not Autobots. But they're exceptions, they're aberrances. They're unique. And Autobots are the norm. They oppose the Decepticons. Decepticons are Villains. And Decepticons can fly. Modal simplified binaries and false dichotomy abound!

And the thing about those original Autobot woman, the one's who largely did not influence all of this? They were cars, it's true, but not like how the men where cars. They've not been designed from transforming car toys, with a shellac of humanoid gender over top. Their designed in the way of human gender. With the car on top.

When the preexisting clause leads to the original designs to be revisited, which, has largely only happened in more recent years. They aren't car woman robots. The cars are literally not part of their bodies, they are additional. Instead of a unifying identity of a robot who is a car, its Arcee and her backpack. Parts of cars get grafted onto their petite lady bodies, and placed anywhere out of the way.

In order to make a transformer a woman, they have to give her a gender, not understanding that that's always been the case. And to give her a woman's gender, she's got to LOOK like a woman, not a transformer. And to look like a woman, she's got to act like a woman. She must be heroic but reactive instead of active, or else, villainous, conniving and or self centered. To be a woman, we must have some other previous woman to explain her presence, or else explain it anew with her unique, strange, or exotic origin. How could she ever be a woman if she simply, existed, looked average, talked average. How could she be a woman if her body is hunks of ungendered car. How can she be a woman if she's everything we expect a transformer to be.

A woman is transgressive, a woman is not normal. Autobots are normal. Autobots are heros. Autobots are men. And Autobots do not fly.

#some shit #its not called cisformers #<- IT SURE ISNT FOLKS #a note on how im using citations here u can read BEFORE getting into the post proper #I'm writing this in mind that someone might have NO idea about tf. or. god forbid. #the general perspective of media trope analysis im working from. #So the links can be considered additional or further reading with intent of 1. if a more thorough understanding of a concept might help #2. something im eliding the name of for search reasons 3. a referential example of what im saying #4. a specifc reference/bit of info that might be unclear. in which case im usually linking to a SECTION of the page #5. JOKE #ALright now normal tag talking space. #THIS IS. serious media analysis done casually for fun! in that. I mean it. genuinely. But also im here for silly fun and im not trying #to be SOOOO academically rigorous that its still not. Posting. u know? #MUCH inspired. or i suppose u might say. encouraged to completion and whole hearted commitment by (fandom) silly serious analysis and #math theroying thematics #i have NO idea if this thing will be searchable with all the links and the words i used. but i prepared for it it case it is #AND I PUT A LOT OF WORK INTO IT!!!!!!!! SO its okay if anyone reads it! #but im also braced for bad faithing inwhich case. I will not be held responsible for my actions. thank you. #i have been told to tag this #maccadam #transformers #if someone tryies to kill me for it im not taking responsibility

[moreclaypigeons]

No like seriously ARE we ready to talk about the misogyny in fandom spaces

#or more so like. the disparity. of depictions of men vs of women. i #and like. dear god. it's dire out here sometimes #um. anyway i dont say this to like invalidate anyone and i worry that by even saying this it feels terfy? #but its like no u can talk about misogyny while including trans people especially bc of the overlap. heterocissexism. is ghat a word #like . ugh i just. its never like an individual thing i have beef with u know #like if someone tends to prefer male characters or writing men loving men im never gonna shit on em yk #it just . bothers me how large of a trend it is #especially in comparison to f/f... #like jave u see the differences on ao4 #ao3* #or the differences in how people talk about men vs women here #obviously theres room outside that binary and i fucking hate it as it stands anyway but it does stand and we should talk about it. #like i dont think this is just a cis issue at all. we should also talk about how we talk about nonbinary or gender non conforming characters #but its also like can we be normal about women too. and not prioritize men always . um #hey guys . rambling in the tags is all to say. this post explicitly includes trans people. i will not tolerate any #transphobic rhetoric on any responses to it. you will be blocked. #sierra speaks #misogyny in fandom