#it’s literally grooming and it makes me so mad that not enough people recognize it for what it is

[lildoodlenoodle]

One of the biggest problems and red flags about the whole spider society was having kids be workers for them.

Now I’m not saying the spider society shouldn’t have contacted the younger spiders or even work with them! But the spider society should function as more of a support group and emergency backup type situation for the younger spiders.

There was no reason for Margo, someone who is implied to be like Miles’s age, someone who can’t even drive, to be running an integral part of the society and how they are keeping the multiverse intact. She not only ran it, but if it malfunctioned it was clearly her job and responsibility to fix. When the machine ‘breaks’ and functions while, as far as she’s aware, no one’s in it she’s panicking, even though there would be no real consequences if she just let it run. There was no reason for Gwen, a 16 yr old, to be running around the multiverse alone going on high stakes solo missions(and that’s not even getting into the whole homeless thing). We don’t know yet what Peni’s role is but we have to assume it’s similar in nature and responsibility. That is insane.

Pav is the only one who seems to have a healthy relationship with the society, because he’s not really in it! He doesn’t know the indoctrination canon events yet, we don’t see him going off on solo missions, he gets backup when he needs it and that seems to be it.

For the kids that do know the canon events theory(Margo, Peni, Gwen) I cannot even imagine what must be going through their heads. Who else from their worlds has to die. For Peni, is her last living relative, Uncle Ben, the next person for her to lose? If Gwen returns to her world how long will it take for her dad to die? What other traumatic events have Miguel’s theory dictated will happen to them next? What horrors do they know will happen to them and their loved ones that they aren’t allowed to prevent? Is Gwen destined to die young because she’s the only Gwen we see Alive? And Gwen and Hobie, Pav’s friends, do they know that Gayatri and her dad are both destined to die? Like the mental gymnastics these kids have to go through and the mental torment that goes with it.

And then on top of it, to threaten said teenagers, who you have working for you, with being kicked out and being isolated from the people that are like and understand them is really fucked up. Especially if the threatening is because they are acting like teenagers and not soldiers. If Gwen is sent home, not only is her life put in danger but so is her father’s and they all know it. That is some culty level gaslighting and even grooming. Margo and Peni both are implied to not have good home lives either. The more you think about it the worse it gets honestly, because what goes along with this is we never see any of the adult spiders say anything about this.

Miguel and Jess both saw Gwen’s father, a grown man, try to arrest his daughter with a gun pointed at her. They save her, Jess takes her under wing(and whether they meant to or not) effectively become her guardians. They monitor her with what could essentially be a baby monitor/tracking device. They can control where she can and cannot go. And while understandable to not give a teen access to the entire multiverse they were very much giving her the adult responsibilities of protecting it.

When she does screw up, because she is a child who wants to see her friend, Jessica very flippantly references Miguel sending her home, making me think this is not the first time they’ve had that conversation, which is so worrying. And then they eventually do. They knew exactly what situation they were sending her into and not only did the entire society watch Miguel do it with little protest but didn’t even mention it afterwards. Even if Gwen was a threat they had other options, rather than sending her home, where she could still be safe.

There’s also a lot to say about how Jessica, Peter B., and Miguel handled Miles that speaks more to this pattern of behavior but that’s another post.

In the comics the ‘Spider Society’ got away with this sort of stuff, even having an actual infant just chilling with the group, because the spiders were being hunted. They couldn’t go home or leave the safe space dimension because it wasn’t safe. In the movie that is very much not the case. WHY WERE TEENAGERS WORKING FOR THE SOCIETY!?

#Peter b. Jessica and Miguel that is very weird of you #I feel like I could talk about Gwen’s situation specifically for a long ass time(cause we know the most about her)bc it rlly is nuts #like as an adult WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT #literally not just having her work for you but then constantly THREATEN her with essentially homelessness and a very unsafe situation is #CRAZYYYYY #like it’s even implied Margo doesn’t have a great home life either #YOU ARE TAKING ADVANTAGE OF KIDS #it’s literally grooming and it makes me so mad that not enough people recognize it for what it is #Jessica specifically I wanna know more about cause she’s the only where my mind could b changed cause we simply don’t know enough about her #THE OSHA AND CHILD LABOR LAWS MIGUEL IS VIOLATING #Gwen Stacy #Margo kess #miguel ohara #Peter b. Parker #pavitr prabhakar #Hobie brown #miles morales #ghost spider #spider byte #Spider-Man 99 #Jessica drew #spiderwoman #spider society #ATSV #across the spiderverse #spiderman india #tw grooming #tw gun

[nativehueofresolution]

the other part of this is that daniel calls armand his "merciless and all-loving demonic god", and this is a perception armand both encourages and discourages. i think on the conscious level he is actively trying to discourage it. armand repeatedly expresses frustration with daniel assuming armand can track him down anywhere when he runs away from night island, scolding daniel for putting himself in danger where armand might not be able to help. he makes sarcastic and exasperated remarks anytime daniel says something to the effect of armand is strong enough to take on other vampires or ward off any danger. he seems to really want daniel to understand he has limits. and daniel even recognizes this is how armand feels. he mentally cries out for armand, saying "you know i want to come home", and he imagines armand responding by saying "but i don't know... i'm not god, daniel". he knows armand wouldn't like the idea of daniel thinking of him like that.

but the reason daniel feels this way is armand literally spent years cultivating an image of himself as an omnipresent and inescapable predator. he builds a life for daniel where he's completely dependent on armand - to the point of having his clothes picked out and not even doing his own grooming - and has literally no other people in his life. he tells daniel "there's nothing for you now, daniel, except me. you know that. madness waits out there."

it's the same type of isolation and dependency marius created in venice, where he told him "you are for me". but armand is presenting himself in a subservient way. it doesn't change the reality of the power dynamic, but he's trying to give daniel the illusion of control, of freedom, of being the master of himself. he grants his every wish. he lets daniel come and go as he pleases even though he's doing everything he can to get daniel to stay, to want for nothing. he only comes to get daniel when he calls, but he also knows he's essentially letting his domesticated pet out into the wild. he isn't built for that anymore, and it was armand who made it that way. he's echoing the way he experienced "love" as a mortal, but trying to change just enough so that daniel still has control of himself (because he recognizes that was wrong? because he feels he's most appealing in a servile role? because he's trying to treat daniel like frog in slowly heating water instead of going to a straight boil?). still, i don't think he wants to be a god to daniel. he's giving daniel the blood as marius did with him, but he resents how much daniel craves it. he engineers daniel's dependency but also can't truly believe daniel loves him because of it - now he thinks daniel's just obsessed with the blood. armand wants things to be different, to be better with daniel, but has no playbook after so much isolation. and he falls back to his time as a human with a vampire and no matter the surface trappings he alters, he can't change the fundamental power imbalance built into the relationship he's echoing.

#devil's minion #iwtv #kaitlin speaks #like they both want there to be equality in the relationship. daniel wants to be a vampire who can stand alongside armand #armand goes out of his way to try and give daniel the illusion of control even when he really has none #but they both find the other's envisioned version of an equal relationship to be hollow #it doesn't matter to daniel how much armand does to grant his wishes. he's a human who will be a blip to armand. meaningless. #only as an immortal could they be true lovers #while armand takes that as a rejection of his feelings. daniel's only with him as a means to an end #and if he actually got what he wanted they'd never be together #aaaaaagh

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 24: The Last Night Of Freedom

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 3402

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, nudity, Daddy!Kink, Dom!Steve, sub!Reader, dirty talk, cussing, alcohol, implications of female strippers.

A/N: Just so you know, Y/F/N means Your Friend’s Name and Y/C/N means Your Cousin’s Name; both female in this case. Though if you aren’t close with any cousins, you can just imagine another friend. Enjoy this chapter!

“May your bachelorette party be filled with and fun, love, laughter, and most importantly, lots and lots of liquor.” Natasha spoke with a smirk before shouting “To Y/N!” as a closer to her Maid of Honour speech, or what was at least a shorter version. The real one would take place in exactly a week, but instead of being in front of five other ladies, it would be in front of about two hundred wedding guests.

The small circle of women all cheered and clinked their glasses together, repeating “To Y/N!” with huge smiles before tipping their drinks back.

A group of people from a table nearby started to clap, making the bride-to-be blush and give them a small wave after she finished her sip.

Y/F/N turned around to the look at the supportive Las Vegas bar patrons before facing back to Y/N with a smile. “Ooo, N/N. Looks like that one guy over there recognizes you.” She discretely nudged her head towards the handsome brunette who was sitting right across from them. “He’s cute, you should go for it.”

“Dude, I’m getting married in literally a week.” The actress stated, shaking her head at her friend’s silliness.

Maria smirked. “Still, it’s never too late to call it off.”

Y/C/N laughed at the comment, completely knowing that it was a joke. You’d have to be completely blind to not see the pure love between Steve and Y/N. “Ya, then that way I could have the Captain all for myself.”

“Oh please.” Y/N playfully shook her head. “We all know that Natasha would have next dibs.”

The assassin scoffed in response. “Says who?”

The woman of the hour raised her eyebrows. “You, ‘ya big fiancé kisser!”

The table erupted in gasps and giggles.

“Wait, wait, wait, what happened?” Pepper chimed in.

Maria chuckled. “Oh ya, I heard about that!”

“She kissed Steve when they were in Washington like a year ago.” Y/N explained, pretending to be mad when in reality she was completely over it. “He wasn’t technically my fiancé yet, but you still kissed my boyfriend.”

“It was for a mission! The guys could’ve killed us if we were recognized! I did what I had to do to hide our faces.” Natasha stated, throwing an arm up and down in exaggeration. “How did you even find out? Did Steve tell you?”

“Well, duh!” Y/N said with a laugh. “The man apologized to me like five times.”

“But you kiss a ton of actors all the time for your job.” Pepper pointed out with furrowed eyebrows and tilted her head. “Do you apologize?”

The girl in question nodded her head. “At first, for sure. It was pretty hard for him to deal with, and that’s why he felt so guilty doing the same back to me.” She took another sip of her drink, watching Natasha’s expression from over the rim of her glass. The redhead had an uncharacteristically ashamed look on her face. “Relax, Nat.” Y/N spoke after putting her empty glass down on the glossy wood table. “I’m not really upset, I was just kidding.”

Y/F/N grinned. “So... free dibs to kiss Mr. America then?”

“Absolutely not.”

*****

“To Steve!” Sam cheered, urging the other four guests to repeat him, while the one man of the hour just stood there and beamed.

After taking a long sip of his beer, Clint slapped a hand on the Captain’s shoulder. “May your bachelor party be one to remember.”

“Your last night of freedom.” Rhodes added.

Steve shook his head with a smile. “Well, we can’t exactly call it my last night of freedom. The wedding is a whole seven days away.”

“Still,” Tony cocked his head to the side, “the last night where you’re not tied down to the responsibilities of becoming a husband.“

And it was exactly that. Y/N and the wedding planner had reserved the entire upcoming week to set things up for the ceremony, reception, and photoshoot in between.

“Come on,” Thor, who came back to Earth specifically for these festivities, let out a deep chuckle, “you can tell by the look in this man’s eyes that he truly loves all the weddingly duties.”

Sam nodded. “We all know that Cap would rather be snuggled under the covers with Y/N somewhere than be here with us.”

Steve gave them one of his half grins. “Regardless of what I’d rather or be doing right now,-”

“Or who you’d rather be doing.” Tony interrupted, making the circle of men laugh and the groom-to-be roll his eyes.

“Anyways, I really do appreciate you guys bringing me here.” Steve stated, glancing around their private room at one of Las Vegas’ fanciest bars. It was something that only the big names of the Avengers could book, and the big wallet of Tony Stark could afford.

“The evening’s only beginning though, right, Stark?” Clint waggled his eyebrows up and down with a cheesy smirk.

“Most definitely.” Tony snickered before checking the time on his very expensive watch, seeing that it was now 9:56 at night. “And in a little less than five minutes, the show will finally start.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “What show? I thought we were just going to go back down and gamble some more.”

In order to avoid the man’s eyes, Sam and Tony glanced at their shoes as Clint took a sip of his drink in hopes to hide his smile. Rhodes started to chuckle a little bit, meanwhile Thor was just as confused as the super soldier.

“What did you guys plan?” Steve questioned, suddenly bringing out his special Captain America voice that was only reserved for missions; sometimes the bedroom.

Stark just shrugged mischievously.

“Tony, guys, I swear to Go-”

Roger’s words were interrupted by the sound of squealing women, high heels thumping down the hallway, and a big speaker that was playing some new sensual pop song that he had never heard before.

“You didn’t.” Steve ground his teeth in frustration, eyeing each of his friends. “Whose idea was this?”

Sam sheepishly raised his hand. “It’s my duty as Best Man to give you the best night ever!”

“I thought that we had discuss-”

The double doors suddenly burst open, revealing a large clan of attractive women wearing very, very little clothing. “Oh, Captain!” They called before skipping into the room and circling around the seemingly uncomfortable man.

Steve just sighed as he glanced around the approximately ten pretty faces surrounding him, eyes not daring to stray any lower than their chins. “Oh boy.”

*****

The music of the bar club just seemed to get louder and louder, clouding all of her senses as she took another sip of what was probably her third drink of the evening. Y/N wasn’t exactly drunk yet, but tipsy enough to not really care that she’d been sitting alone for the last half an hour.

Las Vegas was pretty fancy, the girl would have to give it that. The bars were lined with more liquor bottles than she could count, not a finger smudge on any of them, and she was pretty sure that her hotel room was at least 50% marble.

But of course, that could’ve just been Tony’s miraculous planning skills; or Tony’s miraculous stack of money. Y/N couldn’t even imagine what it would cost to bring all twelve people in the wedding party to Las Vegas for the weekend, let alone stay in the two nicest casino hotels in the area.

Yes, two. One for the men, one for the women. Sam and Natasha took great responsibility in their Best Man and Maid of Honour roles, deciding to have the two groups bunk separately, almost ten blocks apart. It was Steve and Y/N’s bachelor and bachelorette parties after all, one of their last nights being two singles. Everyone wanted the pair to spend it to its full extent.

Vibrations coming from her clutch broke Y/N out of her slightly tipsy haze, making the girl take out her cellphone and instantly smile when she saw that it was Steve calling her. “Hello?” She spoke after answering it.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The man said from the other end.

“Honey.” She greeted as she sat up straighter on her barstool, becoming excited at the sound of his voice, “What’s up?”

“Just miss you, that’s all.”

Y/N beamed. They had only been apart for half of a day, and he had already wanted to see her. “I miss you too, Stevie. You having fun?”

“Uh,” the Captain puffed out a breath, “ya, ya, tons of fun. T-Tame fun, nothing too crazy.” He told her, trying to hide the fact that there had just been plenty of almost-naked women dancing around him. “What about you?”

“Well,” Y/N looked around the noisy bar that she was in, still seeing none of her friends around, “it’s been okay.”

“Only okay?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, it started out great.” She explained. “But, uh, everyone ‘sorta went off to do their own thing.”

“They ditched you?” Steve sternly asked, mad at the fact that Y/N was all by herself in the busy city of Las Vegas.

“No!” She shook her head back and forth, even though he couldn’t actually see her. “Pepper and Y/C/N we’re doing so well in the casino that I just let them keep going, last time I saw Nat and Maria they were playing pool, and Y/F/N went off somewhere to hook up with this random guy.”

“Awe, doll. I’m so sorry.” Steve comforted.

Y/N gloomily tapped her nails against the sleek wood bar top, her other hand still holding the phone to her ear. “It’s alright. You know that these clubs and all aren’t exactly my scene anyways.”

“Here,” the man spoke up, coming upon a realization, “I have an idea. Why don’t you go down to the lobby, and I’ll meet you there?”

“You ‘wanna come over here?”

Steve answered like it was obvious. “Of course.”

Y/N was confused. “But hon, it’s your bachelor party. The whole point of the night is to be away from each other. I don’t ‘wanna ruin your fun.”

He shook his head at her words, telling even from blocks away that there was a sheepish look painted on her face. “You honestly think that you’d be ruining my fun? Baby, you are my fun.” Steve looked around the room that he was in, making sure all of his friends seemed alright on their own. “Just meet me down there, N/N. Then we can go up to your room, and I’ll give you the best bachelorette party that you could ever ask for. That’s a promise.”

*****

Y/N fumbled with her hotel room key card as she struggled to unlock her door, getting the red light instead of the green light every time. Though to her defence, there was a major distraction grinding up against her backside.

“Better hurry up, baby girl. I’m getting impatient here.” Steve whispered huskily into her ear, leaving her shivering.

The girl finally managed to unlock her door, and the moment she did, it was closed from the inside and she was shoved against it. Y/N’s legs around Steve’s waist, his lips against her neck. She let out a high-pitched moan.

“Oh, you like that, baby? You like it when your daddy’s rough with you?”

Another whine in response.

“I need an answer, baby.” The man added with a particularly harsh bite to her neck. Y/N instantly knew there’d be marks the next day, worrying that they’d still be there for the wedding, but was too turned on to say anything.

“Yes.” She managed to let slip past her lips.

“‘Yes’ who?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Just as every time, the word ‘daddy’ went straight to Steve’s dick; the evidence was extremely prominent against Y/N’s thigh. 

He had-had enough by now. And so, he grabbed on to the neckline of her olive green dress and ripped it straight down. His plump lips instantly attacked her chest, which to both his surprise and delight, was not clad in a bra.

“I knew it.” Steve rasped. “Have you been braless all night, my naughty girl?”

“Yes, daddy.” Y/N said shakily. But who could blame her for not wearing one? It was a strapless dress and the top part was double-layered anyways.

“I bet you aren’t wearing any panties either.” He said in between sloppy kisses to her breasts. “I think I have to check.” And with that, he strongly pressed the fingers of his right hand against her clit, being correct about the lack of underwear. But once again, who could blame her? The bottom part of her bodycon dress was very thin, and she definitely couldn’t have panty lines.

“Daddy.” The girl whined.

His fingers then slipped inside her tight, aching hole, repeatedly thrusting in and out.

Y/N’s legs turned to jelly, instantly hanging against Steve’s sides. Luckily though, due to his brute strength and the sturdiness of the hotel’s door, she stayed upright as he continued fucking her with his fingers.

“Cum for me baby, cum for your daddy.” He ordered, his thumb and forefinger instantly pinching her clit.

So with that, Y/N let go of any last bit of control she had left, and came. Hard.

The room was filled with the sounds of whines, panting, and the squishing of Steve’s fingers inside of her wet opening.

“Shhh, shh.” He cooed as she came down from her high. “You did so great, my precious girl.” Right as Y/N felt brought back down to Earth, he started counting in a low voice “That’s one.”

Uh oh, she though to herself. It was one of those nights. Those nights were Steve repeatedly made her cum until she was so sensitive that she couldn’t even move. And it’s not that Y/N didn’t enjoy these nights, because she sure did, but she also knew that once he was getting started, there was no way of getting him to stop.

Steve brought his right hand up to his mouth, slowly and sensually licking the juices off each individual finger as if savouring the taste of her. The man adjusted his hands underneath Y/N’s thighs before he quickly walked them both to the bed, throwing her onto it.

Just as quickly, Steve took off his sport coat and crawled overtop of her with a low growl; this just added to her wetness. “Let’s see how many more you’ve got in you, little girl.” He said with quirked up lips. But that sly smirk was soon out of Y/N’s field of view, as his mouth descended to her dripping pussy.

“Oh, Jesus.” She said as she felt his tongue against her.

He peered up from between her legs. “That’s not my name, princess.” 

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Steve went back down and continued his delicious assault on her core. With every stroke of his tongue, Y/N felt as if she was being pulled further and further away from her coherent thoughts. The only two things on her mind being the feel of his mouth on her vagina, and the slight brush of his nose against her clit every time he shifted his head.

“Daddy, I-I-I’m going to cum again.” Y/N stuttered.

The words “Do it, babydoll.” vibrated against her pussy, pushing the girl over the edge for a second time.

Steve lapped up every last drop that Y/N had to offer, and once he went up the bed so that they were eye to eye, licked his lips. The man looked every bit as much as a cat who just got his cream. “Two.” He proudly rumbled into her ear.

Y/N was still in her post-orgasm bliss as she heard the sound of Steve’s belt being undone and dropped to the floor. She turned her head just in time to see him finish unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and abs. Next to go was his pants and boxer briefs, Steve’s large hands pulling them both down all at once. 

Y/N’s mouth watered at the sight of his delicious cock. No matter how many times that she had seen it and felt it before, the size continued to overwhelm her.

As if the man had read her mind, “You like what you see, my baby?” He took the handy condom out of his wallet, rolling it on and stroking himself in the process.

Too caught up in the sight of what was him, all that Y/N could do was nod her head.

Once again, Steve made his way to hover above her. One moment, the girl was staring up into his beautiful blue eyes, and the next, she was moaning out in surprise at the sudden impact of him inside of her. 

Just as suddenly, his dick started to thrust in and out of her at a slow, leisurely pace. Steve was doing it specifically to drive her insane. It had worked.

“Faster, daddy.” Y/N whimpered.

“Baby girl, is that how you ask daddy a question?” The Captain retaliated as he continued to move in and out of her wanting hole.

The girl was almost crying at this point, “Please, please daddy, can you go please faster?”

Steve, starting to get impatient himself, began to fuck her more quickly. He could see how easily she was falling apart underneath him by each squeeze of her walls around his member.

And with a gasp, Y/N was cumming again.

“Three.” Steve groaned out as he was slowing his thrusts. The man then pulled out of her, his dick still as hard as ever.

Without warning the girl was tossed onto her stomach, Steve’s big hands harshly grasping her hips and bringing them closer to his own. There would definitely be bruises the next day, matching the ones he already made on her neck and chest. But she decided she’d wear them all with pride, and maybe a bit of concealer if necessary.

Steve entered her a second time, his pace being even quicker than before; if possible. He could see Y/N’s hands strongly grasping the sheets from his place behind her, just loving how desperate she was for him.

Between the feeling of her tight pussy around him and the continual sounds she was making, the man figured that it wouldn’t be long before he finished. But, he knew he could give her one more first. Steve was the type who got off on getting her off. Y/N had no complaints.

As he started to rub circles on her clit, she loudly moaned out into the vast expanse of her hotel room.

“Come on little girl, give me one more,” Steve huffed. “Cum once more for daddy.”

With that last bit of encouragement, the girl came again; her biggest orgasm of the night triggering his own.

“Y/N, baby.” He groaned out as she collapsed on the bed from exhaustion. Steve swerved just in time to avoid crushing her, running a hand through his damp golden hair. “Best. Bachelor. Party. Ever.” He spoke in between pants of breath.

The girl turned onto her back and nodded her sweat-covered head. “Agreed.”

The man only stayed on the bed a minute before he was up and heading to the ensuite bathroom. He returned with a wet, warm washcloth and began to rub in between Y/N’s thighs, cleaning her up.

“Thank you.” She said hoarsely, her voice practically wrecked after the night’s activities.

“Of course.” Steve replied with a sincere smile. How in less than five minutes he went from a dominant sex god to a sweet and wholesome boyfriend would forever remain a mystery to Y/N.

He returned the cloth to the restroom before making his way back to the bed, turning off the room’s lights along the way.

“I love you so much.” The Captain stated as he tucked them both underneath the covers and pulled her into his arms.

The effect that this man had on her never failed, as Y/N was blushing at the simple phrase they’ve said over a thousand times. “I love you more.” She added cheekily.

“Not possible.” Steve contradicted, just as usual. And before she could counter back, he placed a loving kiss right on her lips.

“Goodnight, Stevie.” Y/N spoke as she turned in his arms, having him spoon her.

“Goodnight, my love.” But, it only took about three seconds before he was speaking up again. “Oh, and babydoll?”

“Mm-hmm?” Y/N replied, almost asleep.

“Four.”

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!❤️

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers smut #chris evans x reader #captain america x reader #dom!steve rogers #daddy steve rogers #dom steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #dom!steve #daddy steve #dom steve #sub!reader #sub reader #chris evans x you #captain america x you #chris evans x y/n #captain america x y/n #avengers x reader

[thatyanderecritic]

Marchen Witches

Title: Marchen Witches

Media: Webtoons, written by Verbin

Yandere(s): Carness

Yandere Scale: 4/5

Criticism written by: Kai 

Editor: Julie

The Review: Hey everyone! Kai here back with another review! I’m sure that this is a bit of a surprise. Hell, I’m surprised that I’m doing yet another review. While waiting for yesterday’s livestream to finish rendering (which I’ll be posting here), I stumbled upon this webtoon. I decided to read it on a whim as I wait for the video to finish up and boy, I did not expect there to be a yandere here… Let me explain

Marchen Witches is a webtoon about a romance between a witch and a knight. About 300 years ago, there was a racial war between magic users and non-magic users. The witch and the knight tried to fight for equal rights but ended up dying in the fight. Unable to recognize their love for each other, the witch cast a spell so that her and the knight can be reincarnated together. Now, a 300 years later, the witch was reincarnated… as a male scientist named Schwann Owen. Present day, Owen contains all his past life memories and now researching the reincarnation spell from a scientific point of view. But he was soon attacked by a wizard terrorist group called the Black Pearl. But! He was saved by a female war mage named Jessica; who very much looks like the knight in the past life (you see a trend here?). But surprise surprise, Jessica has a twin brother who also looks like the knight. Now Owen is all messed up on who’s the real knight. But that isn’t important. The Black Pearl kidnap Owen for his research but surprise! It was actually Carness’s, the yandere, long con to capture Jessica to commit couple suicide and reincarnate into the next life together <3 But Carness got his ass beat by Owen and everyone lives happily ever after :)

Anyways, you guys might think I just rushed typing the summary and skipping over details but, nope! The webtoons was just that rushed! It was a neat story and was an enjoyable read but it was rather… underwhelming and very unsatisfying. There were many points in the story where the author could have paused and expanded on a plot detail or character interaction or character background. The only one who got major screen time was just some side character called Zeke, for some reason… Like, Owen’s dilemma with figuring out which twin was the knight was barely touched on and was kinda… glossed over. His relationship with them was extremely superficial and I couldn’t believe that Owen and Jessica got together out of true love. Jessica was just awfully written. She was bland and boring. The minute there was an inch of personality or possible character history from her, it was immediately skipped over for #plot. The same goes for her twin brother. There was a really big point that was brought up in the story but pretty much was destroyed after it was out the gate. It was the idea that maybe… these people in the present AREN’T actually the people from the past anymore. Very good plot point that should have been focused for the entire damn story but it was only use for convenience against Zeke and the yandere, Carness (who I’ll talk about soon. I swear). That point was immediately tossed out the window once Jessica remember her past life and automatically went “I love you, Owen :)”. Lmao what??? Literally a panel ago, everyone was agreeing to let the past be the past. From what I saw, the two main characters just love each other because of who they were in the past, not who they are right now. Y’all realized how fuck that is, right? Right???? It’s an alright story… it fits the bare minimum of what a story requires. But don’t expect anything particularly amazing. 

Anyways, enough rambling about the mediocre story. Let’s talk yandere. So Carness was a surprise yandere. When I first saw him appear, my first thought was: “The author has no reason to make him this hot” lmao. Carness is the main antagonist of the entire webcomic and pretty much the reason why there was that whole racism war to begin with…. Apparently. But before I talk about him, I should mention that Carness is canon fodder yandere. What does that mean? Carness’s whole point in the story is just to bring the two main characters together before getting his ass beat. So don’t expect anything amazing from him besides going “muahahaha”. 

Now then… why is Carness a yandere? Well, we first have to go back into time for Carness original incarnation: Countess Iris. Yes, before Carness was a male yandere, he was a female yandere :) We’re checking off all boxes here folks. Well, Countess Iris was the knight’s OG fiance. She fell in love with him at first sight when they were children and was groomed to be his perfect wife, since that’s what is expected of a woman. Hinted that she was most likely neglected as a child too. Basically, she was raised to be devoted only to the knight. To keep him only to herself, she chased off women and disfigured some who tried to get close to the knight. But without her realizing, the knight and the witch fell in love with each other. Mad with jealousy, she flamed the already tense racial divide between the witches and humans so that the witch would “accidentally” die in the fighting. But she never expected the knight to go out with the witch. Wrecked with grief, anger, possessiveness, ect. Countess Iris decided to follow after the knight into the next life. She preserved his body and “recruited” (forced) many witches to copy the reincarnation spell. The spell worked and she turned into a he then went out to hunt for the reincarnated knight. Carness found Jessica and… idk what happened between that and the meeting of Owen. This story gloss over more plot details than a high school girl using lip gloss. Anyways, Carness decides to permanently get rid of Owen for good and do a lovers suicide for the next life. To do that, he puppeteer an entire terrorist group and did mind using people for his own agenda. But of course, he lost after have a yandere snap and get locked up in jail. The end.

 As you can see, Carness is a yandere but due to having a shallow background (shit everyone has a shallow background), we have to take away a point because there’s not much about Carness (I mean, that paragraph seems like a lot but really, compared to the webtoon, the paragraph is really nothing). Anyways, Carness is solid. Story is wack but readable.

Overall score: 6/10

#marchen witches #yandere #male yandere #female yandere #webtoon #Carness

[vorcotec]

TAGGED  BY : stolen from @afraidofchange​ 😌 TAGGING :  steal it from me

—    BASICS.

▸     IS    YOUR    MUSE    TALL    /    SHORT    /    AVERAGE ? jane is about 5′8 but has a slouch, and physically she’s built small, so people often see her as shorter than she is until they’re looking up at her. 

▸      ARE    THEY    OKAY    WITH    THEIR    HEIGHT ? she’s never thought about it except at the times she’s tried to reach something and hasn’t been tall enough

▸      WHAT’S    THEIR    HAIR    LIKE ? auburn, on the browner side during autumn/winter, redder in spring/summer, with gray streaks at her temples and here and there along her hairline. her standard hair length is just at her shoulders, usually pulled back into a ponytail. her hair is fine and not incredibly thick, and doesn’t curl except under extreme duress. there are often wisps and smaller hairs hanging out of her ponytail because what on god’s earth is a bobby pin.

▸     DO    THEY    SPEND    A    LOT    OF    TIME    ON    THEIR    HAIR     /    GROOMING ? nooooooooooooo. grooming rituals in general aren’t very important/meaningful to her; she just doesn’t find them engaging. the thing about her hair is that until her 30s she actually had very long hair, and from childhood she didn’t want anyone else touching or brushing it, because of Bad Xperiences with having it pulled or otherwise manhandled (and her scalp is very sensitive). so she had to learn to take care of it herself because if she didn’t, it would get really tangled, and that was worse. (there were def cycles of her not taking care of her hair --> her hair getting very messy and knotty --> her mom “punishing” her by making her sit still while she combed it all out for her --> jane not learning her lesson... but into adulthood, when she started learning how to make routines for herself, it gradually stuck.)

▸      DOES   YOUR   MUSE   CARE   ABOUT   THEIR   APPEARANCE   /   WHAT    OTHERS    THINK ? jane doesn’t care what other people think of her appearance At All. ever. her only thing with how she looks is that she wants to look like “herself,” and it disturbs her to, e.g., wear revealing clothing, wear makeup, or have her hair styled with products, not just because of the various sensory displeasures such things cause, but because she doesn’t feel like Her--the version of her that’s closest to her natural, unvarnished state, decorated only in ways that are pleasing to Herself Alone (such as in her various clashing plaids), and not likely to be read as Woman with a capital W (we can talk about jane and being read in terms of gender/gendered appearance another time). 

—    PREFERENCES.

▸     INDOORS    OR    OUTDOORS ?  either/or ▸     RAIN    OR    SUNSHINE ?  sunshine ▸     FOREST    OR    BEACH ?  forest ▸     PRECIOUS    METALS    OR    GEMS ?   both are shiny, so ▸     FLOWERS    OR    PERFUMES ?  flowers ▸     PERSONALITY    OR    APPEARANCE ?  personality. she doesn’t know what a face is anyway ▸     BEING    ALONE    OR    BEING    IN    A    CROWD ?  ALONE ▸     ORDER    OR    ANARCHY ?  order ▸     PAINFUL    TRUTHS    OR    WHITE    LIES ?  painful truths ▸     SCIENCE    OR    MAGIC ?  science AND magic. i have posts about this ▸     PEACE    OR    CONFLICT ?  peace. ▸     NIGHT    OR    DAY ?  night. ▸     DUSK    OR    DAWN ?  dawn. ▸     WARMTH    OR    COLD ?  warmth. ▸     MANY   ACQUAINTANCES    OR    A    FEW    CLOSE    FRIENDS ?  a few close friends. ▸     READING    OR    PLAYING    A    GAME ?  reading.

—    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    OF    YOUR    MUSE’S    BAD    HABITS ? jane is insanely stubborn, and will put her foot down or make up her mind about people and things in ways that make her very difficult to deal with. even if she tries to pretend she hasn’t made her mind up to hate someone, she’s TERRIBLE at pretending... she also tends to Take Charge even when she’s not wanted as a leader. also to Make Decisions without checking with anybody first because her way is the right way Always in her mind and she can’t immediately see past/around that.

▸      HAS    YOUR    MUSE    LOST    ANYONE    CLOSE    TO    THEM ?      HOW    HAS    IT    AFFECTED    THEM ? jane’s been lucky in that the major players in her immediate family haven’t yet passed away, but she has severed her relationship with her parents, which was... difficult, but necessary, and in a way incredibly unburdening; so there’s not a lot that she lost by doing that.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    FOND    MEMORIES    YOUR    MUSE    HAS ?   going to synagogue with her grandparents, her friendship with karen, a LOT of moments from dorothy’s childhood that were just small and precious. reconciling w her brother. getting mad pu$$y

▸     IS    IT    EASY    FOR    YOUR    MUSE    TO    KILL ? 😬 well i mean... i think it would only be “easy,” i.e. jane wouldn’t hesitate about it, if it were someone she were Calmly And Absolutely Convinced either deserved it or needed to die (for her daughter’s safety, for example). in that case she would just do it and not waste time about it, that’s just solving a problem for her. i do think there might be psychological repercussions to it, but ones that jane might not immediately recognize as regret or trauma or anything like that, especially if she’s decided already that, again, that person Deserved It or It Had To Be Done. im not saying she goes around shooting every person who wrongs her... but in canon, when she was driven to it, she DID cold-bloodedly murder a dude

▸      WHAT’S    IT    LIKE    WHEN    YOUR    MUSE    BREAKS    DOWN ? Not Great. jane struggles VERY much with losing control of her emotions, and the overall experience is very overwhelming to her, particularly because her feelings are so grounded in physical sensations and the experience of emotional overwhelm is kind of a version of sensory overwhelm to her. she starts losing language, often having to force words out or not being able to talk at all, and will often try to ground herself with physically painful sensations, like pinching or squeezing herself. she also has a very, very hard time with letting herself be seen to break down--i had a thread where she literally turned and faced a wall rather than let herself be seen overwhelmed and crying--such that she can’t make herself ask for help or space or comfort even from her loved ones.

▸      IS    YOUR    MUSE    CAPABLE    OF    TRUSTING    SOMEONE    WITH    THEIR    LIFE ? yes, definitely.

▸      WHAT’S    YOUR    MUSE    LIKE    WHEN    THEY’RE    IN    LOVE ? goopy... mushy... in a jane kind of way 🥰 she rly invites someone into her life when she’s in love, like brings them into the times in her day when she’d be alone--that’s a big deal for someone who relies very much on alone time and generally prefers to be alone. often it’s not big, explosive stuff but just... the two of them sitting and reading in the same space. that’s a big deal for her, sharing space. and she LOVES, LOVES, LOVES learning more about her partner’s interests, being taught by them, or spending time in her partner’s Special Space, like their garden or womancave or whatever. she loves 2 do acts of service and has probably put together a piece of furniture for every one of her girlfriends at some point in their relationship. she’ll also find stuff to fix around her gf’s home and will find little projects to take on herself--one time she went about stitching a dog toy back together for margot’s dog shelley and very seriously worried about him liking it fhdskgmghdfmg. she will also make things for her partner like art object type things

#∴ dashboard meme tag. #∴ headcanon tag.

[soberqueerinthewild]

You like when I’m in control?

So let’s talk about Isobel Evans, you guys. Cause there is so much to unpack! It’s extremely telling that "you like when I’m in control?” is the very first line Isobel speaks on the show. At first glance, this seems like its just an opportunity to put Lily Cowles in lingerie (which let’s be honest, I’m not mad about) and an amusing character introduction, but looking back after everything we’ve learned over the season, it takes on a different meaning. Because Isobel craves control, it’s kind of her whole deal. It’s how she manages both the trauma from her childhood and her anxiety about being discovered as an alien. Her quest for control drives so many of her actions and has shaped her personality in some fascinating ways. 

It’s made clear in Isobel’s second scene that the fear of exposure is always forefront in her mind (I have been worried my entire life that someone would find out about us. That we’d be imprisoned, dissected). To deal with this fear, Isobel seeks to control every aspect of her environment that she can. I think a big part of the reason that the idea of leaving Roswell (or having her brothers leave Roswell) terrifies Isobel, is that she has Roswell wired. She has control in Roswell, but everything outside of Roswell is an unknown. She has spent her life figuring out what this town wants her to be and fitting into that mold. If she fits into the town, she can stay safe and keep her family safe. That’s why she holds such tight control over her image. It’s very important to Isobel that everyone likes her. We see that in 1x04 with Maria. Even though Isobel doesn’t particularly like Maria, it drives her crazy that Maria doesn’t like *her* (she can make nice with Mr. All Lives Matter over there, but she thinks I’m the devil). If everyone likes Isobel, no one would ever suspect that she might be an alien. When Michael says he used to look up at the sky hoping something would come down and save him, Isobel responds “I used to look around at the people of this town and hope the same thing.” She sees being a part of this community as what will ultimately save all of them from exposure. And that’s why she’ll do anything to fit in, even if it means as Maria says that she has to “delete her entire personality” and risk losing her true self along the way (I don’t know me. Because everything I do is an act!)

Control over her environment is why Isobel is drawn to planning events starting in high school through to present day (as an aside: is this a job? Is she an event planner? Or is this volunteer stuff?). In planning every event she can control all the details and make sure she maintains her image and position in the town. She also uses that position to make sure she knows everything about everyone. Knowledge is power, and I bet Isobel learned about weaponizing gossip at the knee of Ann Evans. We see Isobel gather information and wield it with precision, to hit at people’s vulnerabilities, to manipulate them into acting like she wants them to. (You don’t seem to care about anything for that long…How’s your fiancé in Denver, Liz; Liz and Kyle hooked up in the Wild Pony parking lot...your handprint still on her chest). Just in case the people of this town won’t save her, you can bet Isobel has an arsenal of gossip against each and every person of influence in town, enough that they would think twice about crossing her.

Given her desire for control, it’s not surprising that when Isobel needs a man to round out her image, to add to her curated Pinterest page of a life, she picks the guy most likely to let her handcuff him to the bed. The guy that seems to worship the ground she walks on and lets her call the shots. She may not be able to be herself with him (especially since she’s not sure who that is) but she feels safe, because she’s in control.

Only now, Isobel knows that in her relationship with Noah, she had only the illusion of control. Noah has been grooming her since she was 14. He’d been inside her head and because of that he knew what would appeal to her. That’s why he doesn’t play the macho cowboy type, but instead he plays the “golden retriever”. He knows that is the persona that would draw Isobel in and keep her close. He knew the respectable lawyer who wears a lot of sweaters and seems content to trail after her will fit into her curated image, and if she thinks she has him whipped, she’ll relax and let down her guard with him. He also plays on the guilt she feels for not being honest with him (I am married to someone who doesn’t know who I am, and that kills me), with all his sweet gestures (you are my person, you always have been). When things start to heat up and he starts making bigger plays (like attacking Liz at the warehouse) he distracts Isobel by playing into her fears. He shows up with the acetone bottles and plays the confused heartbroken husband. Later when he’s threatened further by Liz and her alien serum, he realizes he needs to be let in the circle, so he puts on a show of being initially scared about her being an alien, and then giving her the acceptance she has always wanted. I will be forever heartbroken by the way she chirps “he loves me” at Michael in 1x10. And then Noah further uses that relief she feels at finally being able to be honest to manipulate Isobel out of using her powers, hoping to delay the discovery of who he really is.

Recognizing the depths of Noah’s manipulation will devastate Isobel. Isobel is going to replay every moment of their relationship in her mind over and over again and I think that realizing the ways he used her deepest fears against her and took away her agency so completely, will push Isobel to do whatever she can to gain back any feeling of control, of safety. We’ve already seen the lengths she will go and the rash moves she will make when she feels like she doesn’t have control. When she learns that Max and Michael took away her right to make decisions about her own life by lying to her about Rosa’s death and feels like she doesn’t know how to keep herself from hurting others, she tries to take control back by stabbing herself with the serum, and nearly dies. It makes sense that her rash reaction to that event was of the self sacrificing variety, but in reaction to this violation and betrayal, I think her rage will be aimed outwards rather than inwards.

Season 1 Isobel was reticent to use her powers. She seemed to be doing whatever possible to pretend she wasn’t an alien and stay safe by fitting in. She says as much to Noah (I spent so much of my life pretending not to be what I am). But that tactic obviously spectacularly backfired. I think Season 2 Isobel will be leaning into her powers, and perhaps using them indiscriminately. Because Isobel’s powers are a way she can take back control.  She talks to Noah in 1x11 about wanting to practice her powers, because she doesn’t want to feel like a victim anymore and in 1x04 she describes being in someone’s mind as “a place where I have ultimate power.” Liz says much the same thing in 1x12 (the mindscape is a place where she has total control. I think she needs that right now). And oh boy, by the end of the season does Isobel need that. She needs control wherever and however she can get it. And now that she’s discovered that she holds not only her subtler influencer abilities (which can wreak their own kind of havoc) but also has the ability to literally blow things up? Holy shit is she going to be a force to be reckoned with. And this Isobel, who has been betrayed by her husband and lost her brother, won’t hesitate to burn everything to the ground and I don’t think she’s much going to care who gets caught in her crossfire.

#roswell new mexico meta #isobel evans #noah bracken #my meta #soberqueerinthewild meta #analyzing this show never gets old for me

[bloojayoolie]

Apparently, Bad, and Club: Anonymous 10/07/13(Mon)22:02:38 No.9021559 Replies: 239021598 239021620 sugly as night, short, work out but real crap genetics, do as much grooming as possible but it's literally lipstick on a pig uni starts, tell myself fuck it, guys are picking up girls all the time, just talk to a girl, it can't be that difficult" >start chatting up girls in clubs, on the streets, whilst shopping >complete failure, girls speeding up and walking away, girls asking guys to take them away from me, girls laughing in my face, girls giving me the look of pity then saying "sorry, no", the less confident girls would give me shitty excuses, in clubs girls would get other girls to move them away from me 거 said to myself, fuck it, just gta keep going at it, the guys in those movies just approach girls on the campus and succeed, eventually i'li grasp it >in the first 6 months approached about 500 girls, could easily approach 5 girls a day, I was approaching like mad on clubnights >keep on failing >sooner or later the entire campus and city begin to recognize me as the creepy guy who hits on girls >bouncers stop letting me into clubs >student circles begin teling girls to watch out for me >people point fingers at me on the streets lose all confidence >end up dropping out of uni 23, NEET and KV, don't say that I didn't try, obviously not all of us were meant to have gf, or get with girls in general; someone should post that image showing a circle saying "just be yourself to the other shapes when it easily goes through a circular passage, because l am as far away from a circle as it gets Anonymous 10/07/13(Mon)22:38:17 No. 9021977 Replies: 229021993 229022020 229022399 299023311 9021908 Did you even read my post above? I approached roughly 500 girls in the first 6 months of uni, trying cver 30 different routines. The build-up of failures made me literally known as the creepy guy on campus >going to a club one time >bouncer says "hi, the student union told us about you, you're anon right? you're an interesting individual, come have a chat with me!" >I am puzzled, come to the side bouncer resumes bouncer activities, checks people for ID's >l am completely ignored on the side >l realised he did this to keep me outside of the club whilst also having an eye on me, people genuinely thought I was that creepy approaching girls >ask him if I can go back in >"wait a sec buddy, we're gna have that conversation, remember? what's the hurry, you have the whole night to club!" sat this point it's a checkmate >after I went home, it hit me that probably 90% of girls have heard about me, which would probably explain why the past few weeks the approaches got even harder and more awkward I can share stories of the more colourful approaches if people are up for a healthy dose of cringe Anonymous 10/07/13(Mon)23:06:03 No.9022327 Replies: >9022362 >9022442 2 9023311 9021993 2. One painful rejection came after I watched a video by a London PUA approaching a girl at a bus stop and just saying something on the lines "man I wish buses came more often", with the girl saying "yeah" and him carrying on "what bus you taking yadda yadda". They made small talk, he found that he had something in common with her, that gave him leverage to ask for number. Seemed simple >see a qt at a bus stop >"man, I wish buses came more often, you know?" "was that directed at me?" S"uhh... yeah" >why are you talking to me?" at this point her face showed signs of fear and disgust >just trying to make small talk" >"are you like a rapist or something?" >completely blown away "uhh... sorry", followed by me walking away it went completely differently on the video >l tried that routine about 15 more times, with varying stages of failure before moving on to the next one I tried his other routines, didn't work, so cognitive dissonance kicked in "T guess he and I run different types of game". Cognitive dissonance was what pretty much kept me going. If none of X, Y and Z's routine worked, try Ws routines, approach 50 girls using his methods, etc Anonymous 10/07/13(Mon)23:20:05 No.9022501 Replies: >9022519 9022523 9022780 9023311 >9022378 P+ To be honest the worst rejection were probably the last hundred, when I have unknowingly gained notoriety. Approaching in clubs became difficult, guys would come and start shoving me going "she doesn't want to nf when I tried tn apprnarhin piiblic spaces I'd get penne interfering nnt knnuing that hel vnⅡ can't ail a e hundred times with girls withnit people knowing ne time a girl waved at a grniip nt guys on the campus, shouting "hey, it's him!" and they came to us and starting making fun of me, apparently there were even rhymes about me "when he shows his ugly snout, get out!" One time I tried to make a girl laugh in between lectures (two lectures in the same lecture room), she straight up told me "you're not funny and I am going to trade places with my friend because this is a bit creepy" The really honest rejections were the worst, because I couldn't fall back on cognitive dissonance; sometimes when a lecture hall routine failed, the girl would just silently get up and go, and the dissonance would kick in, going "she just went to the toilet, try finding her after the lectures are over and people are leaving!" l Anonymous 10/08/13(Tue)00:07:33 No.9023059 Replies: 9023311 >9022867 Anyhow, as I said before after about 500 failures and notoriety bad enough that I had to quit uni, I am now a 23 year old KV on antidepressants. I long ago dropped the notion that any girl will ever find me attractive However this isn't to say that I want to discourage others from approaching girls All I am going to do is wish for you to not end like me It's 6 am and I am seeing a therapist at 9, I better get my 2 hours of sleep

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Apparently #Bad #and

[sequoiann]

❦️ liqhtmas ┊ to you

❆ 25 ; soft fluffy kisses ❆ 27 ; “you’re really gonna go this to me on christmas eve?” 

pairing; seventeen woozi x reader

genre; fluff, angst, drabble

synopsis; jihoon calls to tell you that he can’t make it back home for christmas bc of work and you get mad and two get into a fight. in the end, it gets fluffy bc you decide to bring christmas to him instead after you’ve cooled down. (literally quoting the anonnie who requested this hsdkjfhs ily)

word count; 1.6k words

notes; the first drabble for the liqhtmas series !!! let me know wht you all think, sorry if it’s a bit long for a drabble hehe but most of the drabbles would be approximately this length !! 

; prompts for liqhtmas

“What do you mean you can’t make it back?”  you asked puzzledly as you pressed your phone to your ear, trying to cover up your subtle unhappiness with worry and concern. It was 7pm in the evening, and Jihoon’s call was unexpected. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Jihoon spoke, clicking his tongue quietly as he ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. “I just need to stay in the studio. I haven’t finished up the work I’m supposed to do.”

“Can’t you postpone it till later?” you tried to persuade, sitting down on the edge of your bed as you picked at your bedsheets.

“No, Y/N, I can’t,” Jihoon snapped impatiently, making your blood boil. “It’s something important, and you of all people should understand that I can’t neglect my career.”

“I would understand if it wasn’t Christmas, Jihoon!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air in frustration as you raised your voice. “You promised you’d come  back!”

“And now I’m telling you I can’t! I’m sorry, okay!?” Jihoon shouted into the phone, and you froze for a moment, surprised and dumbfounded. He rarely raises his voice at you.

“You’re really gonna do this to me on Christmas Eve?” you muttered, your voice lowering in volume. You heard Jihoon sigh, and you could almost picture him pacing back and forth.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jihoon said softly, sensing a mix of sadness and anger in your voice. “But I can’t do anything about it.”

“Yeah, fine. Good luck with your work,” you said, mild sarcasm lacing your words. You didn’t want to hurt or make anything harder for him, but your displeasure couldn’t suppress itself entirely which lead to your acrimony. “Bye.”

Jihoon sighed again on the other end, muttering a soft ‘bye’ before hanging up.

A deep frown of irritation was written all over your features after the call was ended, and you threw your cell onto your bed, the phone landing with a soft, almost soundless ‘thud’. Yes, you were annoyed. You and Jihoon had not been able to meet for the past 4 months due to his busy schedules of being a celebrity although the both of you really just live an hour away from each other, and he had promised months ago that he would, for sure, make it back home for Christmas to see you, but he’s going back on his word a day before the actual day of the festival. He had said his assurance so sincerely at that time that you didn’t even doubt him or think that he would cancel on you the last minute.

The expectations and excitement you had been feeling while waiting for this day to come had piled up so much that Jihoon telling you those words just made everything come crashing down so hard, your disappointment converting into anger that you had let out on Jihoon.

You huffed and lay down on your side, turning to face the wall. Countless thoughts raced through your mind as you replayed the conversation you had with Jihoon on the phone previously.

He did sound as frustrated as you did — probably even more than you were. You knew that he had been stressed about his work lately. He had mentioned something about not being able to think of any ideas for the composition of a new song during one of your video calls, but he always brushed the negative topic off, switching it to asking how you were doing and if you were eating well. His eyes showed the concern that a parent would possess, and if you were having a bad day he would talk in such a soft and soothing voice that would, more often than not, lull you into peaceful sleep.

Even when you weren’t in the best mood, attempting to tell him to not call for the day, he wouldn’t listen. The fact that you were unhappy gave him an extra reason to call you; he never wanted to see you upset. Most people avoided you on your bad days — everyone knew the monster that would literally take over your personality. But Jihoon never did that, he always gave you warmth, consistent love and patience. That was why you love him so much so; your nature trusted him before your mind could. His affection was of real help for you to heal. Even if he did not pamper you directly, you’d feel it. He’s funny even when he doesn’t try to, and he was perfect with his idiosyncrasies.

You felt guilty at the thought. He himself had been keeping his worries and concerns to himself; he wasn’t one to complain to anyone. You should’ve considered your actions — you could only imagine seeing how profoundly they had affected him. Your unkind words were probably floating around in his head at the moment, distracting him from his work even more. You slapped yourself mentally, before an idea popped into your mind.

The next day, you were on your way to the company building after getting permission from Seungcheol. You had texted him, asking if everyone was going to be in the studio in the morning, to which he replied with a confused ‘yes’ and ‘why?’. You explained the situation that came up with Jihoon, and he immediately caught on to your ideas, sending you countless numbers of smirking emojis along with requests to sneak in some festival treats. You laughed and agreed — you had already planned to do so before he asked.

When you got to the building, you chirpily greeted the staff members who recognized you, trying to hide the paper bag of prohibited goodies as you hastily make your way to the elevator at the corner of the lobby.

You heaved a sigh of relief when you got into the elevator safely without any of the managers questioning the bursting, overflowing, suspicious-looking bag you were holding on to. You quickly pressed the button with the number ‘3’ on it, and when you got up to the level, you put on your full guard on, poking your head out of the opened elevator doors and turning left and right to look for any source of a being. A surprise had to remain a surprise.

When you made sure that the hallway outside was clear, you stepped out, constantly looking all directions to make sure that Jihoon wasn’t randomly roaming around the level. You swiftly and noiselessly scurried to the main practice room that Seventeen usually used, pressing down on the door handle so slowly that your palms were starting to sweat. You pushed the door open just a crack, enough for you to peek into, and you briefly scanned the open dance studio. There were a couple members around, but Jihoon wasn’t in sight. Good.

You pushed the door open entirely with care, knowing that the door would sometimes creak if swung open. Some of the members nearly screamed your name when they caught sight of you; Hoshi was the first, but Seungcheol was quick to clamp a hand over his mouth. The other members, who either had a slower reaction or saw you later, quickly understood your expression of widened eyes and frantically waving hands which translated to “shut-up!”

Seungcheol quickly pointed to a corner of the practice room where a door was located; it was the entrance to Jihoon’s personal music studio. You nodded and had to stifle your laughter when Seokmin and Seungkwan came scurrying over and reaching for the bag of food from you after catching a glimpse of its contents. It was easy to guess what was inside the bag, anyway — the legs of an upside-down gingerbread man was literally poking out from it.

“Just take it all, but don’t finish it! It’s meant for sharing!” you said in a hushed whisper, and you saw their eyes sparkle like a child’s, making you chuckle. You shooed them away with the goods, before making your way to Jihoon’s studio.

You pressed down on the door handle again, completely re-enacting what happened with the studio door, quietly pushing open the door. Jihoon still doesn’t know of your presence. His elbow was propped on the armrest of his chair, his head rested on his fist. His hair was messy, but there were traces of it being attempted to be groomed. Or maybe it was just him running his fingers through his hair again.

You took a step nearer towards him before throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly from the back. You felt him jump a little in shock, so you quickly let go, laughing as he stood up from his chair, turning around in astonishment. For a split moment, Jihoon wore a face like he was expecting anger from you, anger that just doesn’t exist. When he saw you laughing, his gaze softened almost instantaneously as he instinctively moved in front, toe to toe, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“You came,” he said, before letting out a bubbly chuckle.

“I couldn’t bear not seeing you for another day,” you joked. Jihoon’s arms around you squeezed a fraction tighter, and your body melted into him as every muscle of yours lost its tension to the surrounding air.

“Sorry, love,” he muttered apologetically, and you shook your head.

“Merry Christmas, you idiot. Oh, and, the food’s outside. And your present is in my bag, which is also outside.”

Jihoon laughed. “This is more important.”

He lets go of you, before leaning down slightly to press his soft lips to yours. There was something so heavenly about a kiss that hadn’t happened in a long time, a tender moment that just won’t wait. It is that burst of love that is expressed from the longing that both of you had been feeling, a connection that showed the strength of the emotions. You felt him smile on your lips, making you do just the same.

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen drabbles #seventeen woozi #seventeen scenarios #woozi #jihoon #lee jihoon #liqhtmas #liqhtmas ; woozi

[mtraki]

That OTHER fic idea...

You ever have a fic idea all plotted out, and you keep thinking about it, but you never really want to get around to writing it out-- you just really want to talk/obsess about it?  I do.

So here it is.  Come yell at me about it? :

Niflheim wins.  They used Ardyn for his knowledge of Magitek and then betrayed him, locking him away in a windowless room for the rest of his immortal life-- because somebody paid attention to history.

  And sure, the first Lucian king ‘erased him from history’ but not entirely. After all, there’s a painting of him riding into town on a white chocobo as the all-loved healer he was.  So clearly they recognize he’s a) Lucian royalty--technically b) he’s somehow immortal and finally c) he’s probably up to no good.  Still, the Emperor relies heavily on the power of the daemons and so the ‘vanishing sickness’ is spreading, albeit much more slowly.

Loqi, Caligo, Ravus, Glauca and Verstael Besithia are left to keep the empire running while Aldercapt slowly succumbs to his madness from the daemons and his lust for the Crystal-- as well as advanced age.In order to get beyond the New Wall of Insomnia, they fake a peace treaty like last time, but it is Ravus and Lunafreya who propose it-- Ravus, more politically schooled than the others is made Chancellor on a probationary basis in Ardyn’s ‘absence’.  His first move as Chancellor, to prove his loyalty and competence was to marry Ariel Trammel to cement a firm bond between the Imperial government and the independent government of Accordo.  Lunafreya fears for her brother and sister-in-law both as well as fearing for Noctis and the line of Lucis agreed to go with her brother, if only to find her opportunity…-- and many events play out similarly to Kingsglaive.  Except Lunafreya goes to Altissia like she’s supposed to, with Ariel, to marry Noctis (this was NOT Ravus’s plan nor Glauca’s) and they are all picked up by Niflheim there.

Because Luna isn’t in Insomnia to get ‘kidnapped’, a bunch of people don’t die unnecessarily (Crowe...) However, obtaining the Crystal is a much bloodier affair with the Kingsglaive there.  Especially since a number of Glaives, dissatisfied with Regis’s efforts concerning Galahd and other territories outside Insomnia AND how the king is agreeing to release them to the Empire in this treaty, go turncoat and help the Empire to secure the Crystal-- stating it was a long time coming for the cold-hearted people of Insomnia.

Events at the treaty signing go much unchanged.  The still-loyal Glaives and the few Crownsguard guarding the Crystal are able to warn Cor and the other Crownsguard.  Cor returns to the Citadel.  Some of the Glaives are able to get into the signing chamber to help defend Regis’s life.  They are no match for Glauca and Ravus, however, and are forced to retreat with the king.

Cor meets them in the underground passageways and Regis passes him the Ring of Lucii, commanding him to take it to Noctis.  Glauca kills Regis and Clarus.  Ravus stops Cor and informs him that Noctis, his retinue, and Lunafreya are all in Niflheim custody, and demands his surrender in return for sparing Noctis’s life.  Because Ravus really wants Noctis dead.  But he also really doesn’t want Cor wandering free.  With the life of the new king-- the Prophesied King of Light, no less-- weighing on his decision, Cor surrenders.  Killing Ravus and even Glauca here would not secure the kingdom if Noctis remains imprisoned or is executed.  Insomnia falls, no Diamond Weapon is needed, and the Old Wall does not erect in defense of the city.

So all these jerks are prisoners of war now.

Luna is placed back in house arrest with her brother and sister-in-law.  Noctis and Gladio are secured in a dungeon separately where Noctis cannot use his power of kings to summon weapons or warp or anything.  Ignis is interrogated thoroughly as Glauca/Drautos knows he was being groomed to be the future Hand of the King.  Prompto is initially taken back to his creator, but when Besithia notes that he is ‘flawed’ he declares he does not want him and that he ought to be destroyed.  Ariel denounces this and takes custody of him.  Because Ariel is pretty pissed about what was done to Lunafreya here-- how Lunafreya personally blames herself for everything that has occurred. So now Ariel is baring her teeth and showing off her political know-how.  Prompto is put under her custody and is taken into her house.  She also slowly convinces Drautos to let her take over Ignis’s interrogation-- she can read minds, after all.  She also arranges for Luna to be able to see Noctis regularly, though these meetings are always very strictly guarded and secured.

Nobody really knows what to do with Cor.  50% of the time they want to just kill him, because interrogating him would be useless-- Drautos is not stupid in this. Noone has discovered that Cor has the Ring-- otherwise Ravus would have taken it and tried to become the Hero of Light.  Or Drautos would have.  (You can’t trust anybody with the damn Ring except literally Cor…) Cor considers off and on putting on the Ring, however he’s well-versed in the lore behind it and decides that ‘Immortal’ or not, he’s just a lowly soldier and the old kings of Lucii would probably recognize that. He determines that he’d only put it on if he absolutely had to-- like on-his-way-to-the-gallows ‘had to’.   Until then, he’s keeping it hidden and safe until he can pass it to Noctis.  With Ariel becoming more and more involved with the situations of the prisoners-- she’s also improved accommodations and care for Noctis and Gladio, and Ignis’s circumstances have improved tremendously (he almost even likes her for it-- because of course part of the interrogation is informing him and providing evidence of how well she’s been trying to take care of everyone.  It’s fairly successful…)-- she eventually discovers Cor. Unfortunately, it’s more or less love at first sight for her.  She’s in a loveless marriage to a man who half the time despises her lack of actual royal pedigree and the other half is trying to barter with her to somehow forward his own political agenda-- because she has more sway over the Emperor than he does.  Pretty girls who smile get by better than pretty boys who frown, it seems.-- and the whole time is rather indifferent to her desire and need for attention and affection.

Glauca is 300% against letting Ariel take Cor under house arrest and Ravus isn’t too far behind him-- both of them suspect the house will not be enough to hold him, even though it proves enough to hold Prompto.  Though, admittedly, Prompto is a completely different kind of prisoner altogether, and admittedly he feels a great deal of loyalty toward Ariel lately. She saved him from liquidation and is doing her best to protect his friends.  And she’s a pretty girl who talks to him!  Regularly!  And even Prompto thinks it’d be a dumb idea to try an escape while all his other friends are held hostage.  It’d be different if there was some place to go, if there was a resistance force he knew of, but so far, Niflheim’s victory seems pretty complete.  Ariel and Luna manage to badger Ravus enough to agree to moving Cor to the house, and Ariel also receives the blessing of the Emperor to do it.  Her argument is that like Ignis, Cor has vital information, namely information concerning the rest of the Crownsguard and the Kingsglaigve, who are unaccounted for-- who they are, what they can do, what threat they may pose, and where they might possibly be.  Certainly classic interrogation methods would prove even less effective against ‘the Immortal Marshal of the Crownsguard’ than they did against Ignis, but then surely her methods could prove just as effective as they do on everyone else.  Cor is moved to Ariel's house and is secured separately from Prompto.  Glauca is mad.

Prompto and Cor are in separate wings/floors of the house so they cannot collaborate and make plans (Ravus’s rule) but Lunafreya is given free reign of the house, she just cannot leave it.  Ravus isn’t stupid enough to think she might not carry messages between prisoners, but he’s also certain Ariel won’t let her get away with it-- if it becomes apparent she can’t control her prisoners, she will lose custody of them and things will go very badly for them. (Ravus has not yet figured out that ‘caring for the prisoners’ is not Ariel’s end goal.  He thinks her soft, prone-to-bleeding heart is making her act out of compassion.  That’s part of it, but unlike his sister, she’s really just focused on fucking the Empire as hard as she can for what they did to Lunafreya.  And Altissia.  Keeping the POWs healthy and gaining their trust is just a part of that…)  Cor learns that Lunafreya gets to see Noctis regularly and passes her the Ring to give to Noctis.  Ariel, of course, knew Cor had the Ring (because mindreading).

However, before Luna gets a chance to do this, Glauca and Besithia challenge Ariel’s position.  Besithia, having worked with Ariel’s parents knows what she is and threatens to reveal this to the Emperor.  Meanwhile, Glauca entreats the Emperor to let him inspect their home to make sure everything is as it should be and she’s not housing a rebellion.  The Emperor grants this request-- not because he suspects Ariel, but because he 100% doesn’t, but he figures this would be the easiest way to calm everyone down.  He also wouldn’t mind learning what Ravus is up to.

Ravus is up to trying to rebuild Tenebrae, so he’s a little (lot) bit peeved at this sudden inspection.  Ariel is more worried about Besithia’s threat.  She backs down enough to satisfy him, more or less removing herself from the fortress and the Emperor’s ear for the interim.  She spends her time at the house with her prisoners-- Luna included-- who can also go nowhere.

Cor has figured out pretty quickly that Ravus’s (unsatisfied) wife is into him.  He also figures out that Ravus really doesn’t care about her.  He likely intends to use her to make an heir for Tenebrae at some point in the future, but surely isn’t working on it now.  So he feels pretty safe nurturing her feelings for him, leading her on, and convinces himself the whole time that he’s just using her and doesn’t care about her either.  The house being on lock-down doesn’t suit him at all, so he wheedles out of her that she’s being blackmailed by Besithia.  When the house inspection ends, he manages to get Lunafreya to pass along what he’s learned to Prompto-- he knows Prompto is somewhere in the house, but Prompto doesn’t know he’s here.  Ariel catches them doing this and Cor explains that Besithia threatening her puts all of them in danger, and after everything she’s done for them… it’s the least they can do.  Besides, Besithia is a damned monster.

So Ariel allows Prompto to slip out-- under many heartfelt oaths that he will return-- and goes to shut down Besithia and his work.  Cor does not go, because Cor is a high-profile prisoner and Prompto has more or less been forgotten.  Also, Prompto now knows a good piece of the layout of the facility.  Being equipped by one of the wealthiest houses in the Empire serves him well, and he is also 400% determined to get this shit done (no boo-hooing or crises of identity this time… that happened earlier before Ariel got him wrapped around her little finger more-or-less).  And he does, returning victorious and undetected by anybody that might cause trouble.  Cor is somewhat impressed at the talented little assassin/saboteur Prompto has become.

With Besithia’s grand-plans for godhood exposed, the Emperor deposes him post-mortem and Ariel comes out smelling like a rose for ‘always doubting him and the validity of his focus’.  Glauca has a little egg on his face now and decides to hush up for a little while in regards to suspecting her.  Meanwhile, Cor’s imprisonment under Ariel has not been a waste.  Unbeknownst to him, she has gleaned useful information concerning secret Crownsguard camps and hidden strongholds where the quickly splintering forces still loyal to Lucis gather.  With Cor gone and the betrayal of the Kingsglaive made public, the resistance is un-unified and split into numerous factions.  At the very least, however, this war is a political one against the Empire, and not one against the destruction of mankind.  Days are shorter, but not overly-noticeably so.  With Ardyn locked away and the King of Light and the Oracle still alive, the spread of Starscourge does not advance quickly. (with Lunafreya locked up, however, it spreads faster than it would had she remained free to accomplish her healing…)

Luna is able to see Noctis again and she gives him the Ring and tells him Cor’s intention that they escape together to join the rebellion forces and try to rally them under his crown.  Noctis wants to try and save his friends but is convinced not to due to the risk of re-capture.  Ariel discovers the plot and meets with them, giving them Gladio-- another largely ‘forgotten’ prisoner-- and a secret means of escaping Niflheim. The sisters part tearfully, unsure if they will meet again but knowing their efforts are better used separately from now on.  Ariel offered Prompto to go (she could not reasonably free Ignis or Cor for the value they still held to the Empire) but he refused, stating that with things ‘heating up here’ he would rather stay with her to maybe keep her safe, should the Empire discover her part in all the plots.

Glauca is absolutely livid that Noctis escaped with Lunafreya (and Gladio) and confronts Ravus about it.  Ravus confronts Ariel, fairly certain that any plot his sister had, his wife would know about.  Ariel asks Ravus how long he planned on underestimating the Oracle or defying the gods.  Ravus demands an explanation and Ariel denies him one.  Ravus cannot reasonably do anything about Ariel, however, because a) he fears her powers and how they’ve grown, and b) she’s the darling of Aldercapt-- who still mistrusts him.

So basically Noctis and Luna go to lead the rebellion (or try…) and Ariel saps the Empire from within with Cor and Ignis and Prompto.  Ravus will probably come around once he learns that Ariel is totally supporting the idea of Tenebrae being a kingdom again.  Maybe eventually Ariel will finish seducing Cor into the idea of finishing seducing her.  And Prompto gets to feel like a badass knight-in-shining armor.

With Aldercapt fading fast, it’s going to come to Glauca or Ravus/Ariel leading the Empire-- since the Emperor has no heirs.  Ariel is the obvious choice since the Emperor adores her and does not question her loyalty at all. (Again… mindreading, also speaking to daemons… also y’know… smiling pretty girls and old men…)  Aldercapt keeps chastising Glauca for not heeding Ariel’s advice, for not supporting and tutoring her-- grooming her to be a better Empress.  For not watching out for Ravus-- who is the real threat to the Empire!  Glauca more or less determines the best way to deal with the future of the Empire is with the sword.  He begins plotting how to murder her and get away with it...

#ffxv fanfiction #fic idea #what do you think?

[geliki80-blog]

october 29, 2020, 1:24am

after watching some episodes of other shows, i settled on an episode of david letterman's netflix series with dave chappelle. it was powerful to watch something that referred to events happening this year that have touched my life, that have affected so many lives. and empowering to hear him amplify so many of the values that i have also come to embrace, including community. 

it made me think about my life in the small town i stayed in after college. this town made only slightly bigger by the university that brings in a more diverse range of thinkers and characters than the town itself could ever hope to boast about. i was drawn to this place because i wanted to be closer to thick clusters of trees and farther from dense throngs of people. the electricity of the city had worn me out by seventeen, and i craved an escape from the pace of consumerism that felt foreign and overwhelming to me.

but as i got older within the smaller town's limits, i recognized more and more about how my experiences fit within a bigger context. how certain things that had been more subtle or more covert in pittsburgh were obvious in a place still glaringly white, and glaringly conservative. and the more i realized about the way the town operated, and the way the country operated, and my own place within all of that, i felt more and more disconnected from my literal community. from the place where i liked the trees more than the people.

still i managed to make friends. characters paraded in and out of the tiny gas station on a corner at one of the four intersections in town where i worked part-time for several years. people spoke to me because i was just about the least threatening person, and i was in a subservient role. i had a welcoming aura that had been inviting strangers to open up to me from the time i was a teenager waiting on buses in downtown pittsburgh. that trait followed me into my twenties, and into various customer service positions. as a cashier, i didn't have the freedom to walk away from a customer who decided to unload about his day, his life, his opinions about the state of the country. there was a sense of marginalization that i always felt. a feeling of subversiveness just beneath the surface. and so community for me came to mean the group of people whom i had gravitated toward. whom i had chosen to talk to and listen to. people who stuck around and became close to me, spent time with me, allowed me into their lives and into their families and into their hearts. before long, new friends became people who were precious to me over a decade, and that time grows longer still with so many friends i had the pleasure of meeting in this tiny vortex of interesting and predictable people.

as i get older, i want to be more active in my community. i already know i have a talent for talking with people. for listening. and i know how many people i learned about just from that passive role as a cashier at a gas station. so imagine what i could accomplish with a bit more intention. i've never been much for schmoozing. i also don't believe in selling anything to people. but i know we all have needs, and i believe in working toward making sure everyone's are met. and i know that we stand a much better chance of accomplishing that if we work together, rather than against each other.

there are times that i have really fucked up with people. times when my ego or my perspective has gotten in the way of using a better approach to create dialogue. times when i've talked at someone. or times when my feelings got the best of me, and i spoke before i thought well enough. i think thoughtfulness is definitely something that improves with age and experience, especially if we're conscious about strengthening that muscle. when someone hurts me, there is the part of hurt that is all ego. that is painful. and forgiveness seems always to have two parts--one for forgiving the other person for being human and doing what humans do sometimes which might be lashing out, or projecting, or doing what wounded creatures do. the other for forgiving myself for reacting and getting mad at the person for being human and doing what wounded creatures do. and anyone who denies me permission to make mistakes is not really my friend. but anyone who is not my friend is not my enemy either. and again, ultimately we are both trying to achieve something with progress. with shaping the world around us (and within) toward what we want it to be. and while i cannot control how the other person advances with their own sense of forgiveness, it's never a bad time to engage in some self-reflection and re-evaluate what i have the power to grow within myself, improve within my own behaviors. what the other person does is up to them. and i want only never to hinder their growth. so sometimes stepping back, stepping away from someone is necessary. but the door for dialogue should never close. 

and i think that relates to the bigger picture. the bigger society that we're all a part of. 

tonight, i was thinking as i hung up the fiona apple poster in my room, the construction paper matting badly faded. the cheap plastic poster frame misaligned and taped at the corners to hold it all together. i was thinking about giving permission to people to make mistakes. allowing it. when that idea first comes into my mind, it comes with the assumption that people will learn from their mistakes, and become better. smarter. more compassionate. but there is an error to that thinking, because it assumes that people must be better than what they are, and that they are not worthy of forgiveness unless they evolve from their mistakes. we punish a child with the intention of teaching them to think and behave more appropriately. but children repeat behaviors, pushing the extent of our boundaries and still receiving forgiveness because it takes time to learn certain lessons. if that patience is not applied to adults, then everyone is doomed to failure. not only that, but we withhold love from people we deem as not acting right.

somewhere in my heart i know that i have to love my neighbor. and somewhere else in my heart i don't want anything to do with him unless i enjoy interacting with him.

friends are neighbors we choose, and it can be harder when they disappoint us. but only because we become so used to them that when they let us down we take it personally.

if we allow people to make mistakes, and accept that they will, and accept that it might take a long time for them to learn...how does that inform our expectations for leaders?

dave chappelle had a skit talking about an interaction he had with a transgender woman that did not paint her in a very kind light. and i was very upset with him. i wasn't the only one. but when he went on to continue making specials, i refrained from watching because i didn't want to support someone transphobic. i didn't want to risk that he would keep telling those kinds of jokes. but he ended up addressing that bit in a later special. i ended up coming back to him, because there was always something about his honesty and delivery, his artistry, that i was drawn to (like so many people). in the interview with letterman, he asks chappelle about if he wants to be a leader, acknowledging how letterman himself looked to dave for some sort of guidance. some sort of catharsis following the murder of george floyd. and it made me think about the leaders that the people choose versus the leaders that are groomed for us.

joe biden is the democratic nominee in our two-party presidential election, the results of which will be determined by an electoral college whose structure, like so many other things in this country, is in terrible need of revision. the people who are openly unenthusiastic about biden refer to his history, his involvement with legislation that was, like so many other things in this country, terribly imperfect and influenced by the politics of the time. biden had to change. as a public figure, as a political figure, he had to change with the times and with what the idea of a democrat meant, otherwise people like bernie sanders would stand a chance, and the two-party system would finally shift toward something more pluralistic, and the powers that be want to remain the powers that be. so while people condemn biden for his past, here i am wondering on one hand isn't he allowed to be imperfect? while at the same time wishing we could have had better leaders altogether from the start. leaders who were ahead of their time. leaders not so influenced by the politics and trends of the time. leaders who really make all of us feel confident they will be good for all of us. be what we really need in that office.

i guess what i'm saying is chappelle for president? but really what i'm saying is there has to be a balance between the degree of accountability a person holds for their behaviors and a degree of permission that we grant to people to learn from their mistakes and do better. and we shouldn't be electing anyone to office who hasn't demonstrated that they can learn from their mistakes. who remains the same self-interested, self-absorbed, capitalist pig they always were. i have every faith that chappelle will continue to evolve as a human being, because his craft and his passion are connected with that continuous journey of learning and experiencing and reflecting. i don't have as much faith in biden. but i want to. i want this not to be just another swing of the pendulum back toward the left before another shift toward the right again. i want our political arena to have more diversity. more progress. to really be for the people. even though that's not really the way it was set up. those were the words that were used, and they represent a good vision. a good potential.

i don't know what for the people really looks like. there are some examples around the world, but every place has its issues. no place on earth is perfect. (though ikaria might be close to it. and some of those other blue zones where people live the longest, happiest lives.) 

i have no power in what happens next. the presidential election is in five days. i've cast my vote. millions of citizens have. maybe the outcome has already been decided, and this election business is more of a farce than we realize. but i still have no control over what happens, and i have to focus back on the arena where i do have power. myself. my own backyard. my own community. my own friends and family. my work. so that's what i'll do. and i'll always feel grateful for people like chappelle who are willing to speak up about things many of us have a hard time with, even within our communities. thank goodness for unofficial leaders who open up the spaces for us to keep the dialogue going. especially when they can help us to laugh. because we're all dealing with so many of the mistakes people have been allowed to make for hundreds of years.

#forgiveness #community #leadership #politics #philosophy #progress #processing

[vampirewalterskinner]

This is an old fic I started writing for @little-geecko a while back and never finished until now, based of of little-geecko‘s art and writing. I hope you’re okay with me writing for the au.

Petting Praise

A long yawn fell from Nanu's mouth and exposed his sharp fangs. His sensitive ears twitched at the sound of his meowth approaching, but he quickly waved them away with a flick of his tail. Normally he loved being around his pokémon, but in his current state he sometimes dreaded it. Every time he turned into this form, this tiny little meowth body with messy fur, his pokémon became insistent on grooming him. He could only handle that many sharp tongues for a brief moment. He also felt rather insulted by the fact that they seemed so eager to clean him. He didn't think he was that dirty. Nanu's eyes flickered open as he stared at his own paws. He stretched his toes under a sunbeam and watched as his claws slipped free. Tiny. He could kill a bird, easy, but forget taking down anything bigger than that.

A loud knock burst from the door and the meowth scattered in a panicked frenzy. Some ran to hide under furniture while others rushed to windows to peer outside. Nanu growled as he glared at the ones pulling at the blindes. He didn't have the money to replace them if they broke. Without warning the door flew open and bashed into the wall, causing Nanu and the other meowth to jump in surprise as a dark figure loomed in the doorway. Nanu growled as his ears laid flat against his skull. Now who in hell would be causing such a commotion?

Nanu opened his mouth to give the intruder a piece of his mind, but instead an irritated “mew!” tumbled from his tongue. Oh. Right. He couldn't speak in this form. At least, not any human language. The figure stepped forward and Nanu snarled in alarm. There was mud all over their shoes! They were going to make a huge mess!

“Old man! Yo geezer!” the young voice called out, giving a huff when he received no reply, “Where’d Nanu go? He almost never leaves this place.”

Nanu blinked. Guzma? What was he doing here? A smug grin stretched across Nanu’s lips as he snuggled back onto the couch while purring to himself. At least the boy couldn't bother him while in this form. Not that he disliked Guzma or anything. Quite the opposite. The kid could just be a handful, sometimes.

Guzma's grey eyes searched the police station before he sighed as his shoulders slumped. “I can't believe I missed him. Of all days,” the thug grumbled. He toed the door closed and shuffled over to the couch, causing Nanu to quickly lose his smug smile. Large hands reached toward him and Nanu screwed his eyes shut as he waited for Guzma's next move. Instead of being handled roughly, he was surprised when Guzma's big hands gently wrapped around his body and lifted him off the couch. Guzma took his place as he flopped down onto the cushion, slouching as he laid Nanu on his stomach.

“That guy always seems to go missing when I need him,” Guzma mumbled. His gray eyes stared at Nanu vacantly as he began to stroke the meowth’s head.

Nau stiffened at the foreign touch, but soon melted as fingers scratched the sensitive spot just behind the ears. His eyes slid closed as he pressed back into the touch, an embarrassingly loud and raspy purr vibrating through his chest. Guzma blinked at the sound before chuckling as he moved to scratch at the meowth's jaw and cheek.

“Y’know, yer a weird color for a meowth. You look more gray than the others do. Are you an old meowth?” Guzma joked.

Nanu's eyes snapped open as he growled at Guzma for the joke, then returned to enjoying the kind scritches. Nanu knew that later he’d be angry at himself for willingly letting the boy pet him like this, but that was a problem for tomorrow's Nanu.

Guzma snickered at the meowth's outburst. “Don't get mad at me, dude. You just look different. I’ve never seen a meowth with red eyes either. Although...they look kinda familiar,” Guzma mused. Without warning, Guzma took hold of Nanu's face with both hands and brought him close to peer into his eyes. Nanu's heart stilled from the close proximity. Guzma's young and handsome face drew far too close as he searched Nanu's eyes, making him fear that Guzma had figured everything out.

“Huh. I dunno why I find them so familiar. Weird,” Guzma said as he pulled back and released the meowth.

Relief washed through Nanu's small body as he laid down on the thug’s stomach, but it was short lived.

“Oh wait! Nanu! That's it!” Guzma cheered as he pulled Nanu close once more, “Your eyes remind me of Nanu’s! That's why I recognize them. They look just like his.”

Nanu grew nervous as he looked every other direction that didn't involve Guzma's nosey gaze.

“Your eyes are real pretty, just like his.”

Nanu blinked and stared at Guzma in shock. Surely the boy was messing with him. He had to have figured out his identity and was picking on him, right?

“No matter what kind of deadpan look the old man pulls, his eyes always have this kind of fire burning in them. They're just so vibrant and alive. Oh man, when he gets cocky, those eyes just light up like a burning star. They're amazing. I ain't never seen anyone have eyes quite like his,” Guzma murmured.

The kid liked his eyes? That was...surprisingly nice? Most people were freaked out by the red color. He's never had someone compliment them before. He hadn't even known the kid really liked anything about him.

Guzma's large hand stroked Nanu’s small back as he smiled softly. “I bet you like living here don't you, little buddy? Nanu takes good care of his pokémon,” Guzma said. His smile soon faltered and shifted into a frown, “He’s not exactly good at taking care of himself, though. He’s been looking a bit too thin lately. I hope he's not starving himself.”

Nanu was blown away. Guzma had noticed that? How could he even tell? No one else had noticed, not even Hala who he's known for years.

“Well, it’s not like I have room to talk,” Guzma said as he pulled his hand away from Nanu to examine the deep gashes on his knuckles, “Plums said I was lucky I didn't break my fingers from the last tantrum. To be honest, though, it wouldn't have been the first time they broke.”

So, the boy’s been losing his temper again. It had been a while since the last incident. Nanu thought Guzma had finally moved past it. A stupid assumption, of course. Anger management issues don't magically disappear, and he doubted Guzma would be the type to confront and fix his problems. Perhaps that’s why the boy was looking for him?

Silence overtook the atmosphere. The only sounds audible were of Guzma’s breathing, his hand stroking Nanu’s fur, and the embarrassingly loud purr rattling in the kahuna’s chest. It was a peaceful moment. A strange occasion for sure. Nanu wasn’t sure he had ever seen the boisterous young man every keep his mouth shut for more than a second. He had always wondered why the boy fought of silence with tooth and nail. The kahuna always figured it was for appearance, a persona the boy carried around to protect himself. Nanu could understand why. He was one of the few who knew about Guzma’s rocky childhood. A chuckle rolled from Guzma’s throat and pulled Nanu from his thoughts.

“You’re an affectionate little dude, aren’t you?” Guzma teased.

Nanu’s ears flattened as he watched the boy puff out his lips as his voice took on an annoying babying tone. Good lord. Why do people talk to felines like that? He hoped he never sounded like that when he spoke to his meowth.

A wide grin suddenly spread across Guzma’s face as he giggled, literally giggled, and a small cheerful blush dusted his cheeks. “Okay, your kneading is really cute and all, but those claws are sharp and the hurt and tickle at the same time,” Guzma snickered into his hand.

What in the world was he talking--oh good lord he was kneading the boy’s stomach. Nanu watched, horrified at himself, as his paws flexed and clenched over and over again on Guzma’s stomach. Well, this was highly embarrassing. He hadn’t even realized that he was doing it.

“O-okay, you seriously gotta stop, man. That tickles way too much,” Guzma laughed. His large hands wrapped around Nanu’s tiny body once more and pulled him up to lay the meowth on his chest as he sank deeper into the couch. “I bet you’re Nanu’s favorite. You’re pretty fun, and braver than the other cats. They’re all hiding,” Guzma mused.

I’m far from my own favorite; Nanu scoffed to himself.

Another wave of silence rolled through. This one lasted long enough that Nanu felt himself drifting off while curled up on Guzma’s chest. He found himself oddly comforted by the sound of the boy’s strong and steady heartbeat. Just as Nanu’s eyes slide closed and sleep began to overtake him, Guzma’s quiet voice pulled him back to reality.

“You mind if I tell you a secret?” Guzma whispered.

Nanu’s ears twitched in interest, but he refused to acknowledge the man. It wouldn’t be right for him to hear Guzma’s secret, whatever it may be. The boy had no idea who he really was. He thought he was just a meowth. Nanu really didn’t want to invade his personal life. Mostly because he hoped Guzma would treat him with the same respect, although this event has shown that Guzma holds no such values.

Long fingers massaged over Nanu’s head and firmly scratched down his back as Guzma muttered a confession, “I really like Nanu.”

Nanu’s ears stood tall and flicked towards Guzma, but he still refused to turn towards him. He really shouldn’t be hearing this. That didn’t stop the thousands of questions that ran through his head, nor the way his heart raced in his chest.

“I mean, I like him, like him. I-it’s not love or anything, I mean I don’t even know him well enough for that kind of thing...but, I think I might have, I dunno, a crush on him?” Guzma mumbled as a blush dusted his cheeks, “I dunno why. I mean he’s a nice guy and all, even under all that gruff ‘I don’t want to be here’ exterior he’s actually a really nice dude. Also, he’s a strong pokemon trainer, so y’know, it would make sense that I’d like that. He’s older than me and a kahuna and a cop, which are two things a guy like me is supposed to avoid at all costs but...he’s interesting. And one of the few people who treats me with respect that’s not based in fear.”

This can’t be happening. He had to be dreaming. A really fucking weird dream. He had to get out of here. Nanu stood up to leave, but was suddenly halted by Guzma’s massive hands pinning him to his lap and stroking his fur anxiously. “I know it’s stupid. Nanu would never like a guy like me anyways,” Guzma sighed.

Nanu released a short mew, and for once was glad that he couldn’t speak in this form. If he could, Guzma would have heard Nanu say very clearly, “You’re wrong.”

Nanu’s gut suddenly began to twist and bubble, causing panic to race through Nanu’s veins. Shit. Nanu struggled in Guzma’s grip as smoke poured from his grey fur, but Guzma didn’t release him.

“What the fuck?” Guzma yelped in alarm.

With a booming pop the room exploded with smoke. Guzma and nanu coughed in unison as the air slowly began to clear. Their eyes met and horror reflected on both of their faces. Guzma’s eyes widened, his face burning a brilliant red as a very human and very real Nanu now sat in his lap.

Guzma ripped his hands away from Nanu’s hips as his neck and ears began to turn pink. “What the hell!”

Nanu sat paralyzed, stricken with terror as Guzma continued to stare at him.

Oh, fuck.

#of course I made it guznanu #i have no life #guznanu #pokémon sun #my post #my fanfic #fanfic #god this is corny #i hope this is okay #guzma #kahuna nanu

[janeykath318]

Broken Shackles 24

Having decided to get married sooner rather than later, Spock and Jim's wedding planning started fast and furious. Jim left most of it up to the ladies, putting in input when he was asked, of course, but most of the time letting them handle it since they knew way more than he did.  Bones agreed to be his best man and Pike said he'd be willing to officiate the human part of the ceremony, which made Jim happy. Spock took him aside and explained each part of the Vulcan ceremony and just what bonding entailed. 

"So, they'll literally connect our minds so we'll hear each other's thoughts?" He'd asked.

"Yes, Jim. Such bonds are not broken, but I will teach you shielding techniques to help you balance your privacy."

She'd given him a taste of what it felt like when he'd let her meld with him for the first time graduation evening and Jim had been very surprised and amazed at how right it felt, not invasive, to have her mind in his. How thankful he was that the Orions weren't telepathic. He'd had several heart to heart secure calls with Spock and L'Ren to discuss dealing with physical triggers and the ghosts of his past. Jim had a list of things that he knew would be problematic, but he didn't imagine Spock would be likely to try most of them, extreme as they were. He was pretty sure they'd freak her out as much as him, in fact, so he gave her the less specific concerns for now and she took it in soberly and thoughtfully. Jim had returned to Vulcan with Spock and her parents days after graduation to start putting their plans in motion. They only had five weeks before the big day, but it would be enough. Vulcans were extremely efficient with their ceremonial readiness and five weeks didn't faze them. Spock was as serene and calm as usual during the madness--Vulcans didn't do Bridezilla, Jim thought with some humor. T'Pau had met with him and made sure he thoroughly understood the ceremony and his husbandly duties to Spock. Jim blushed a bit, but he listened politely and told her he would do his best to love Spock as she deserved. Bones grumbled a bit over having to wear Vulcan garb as they dressed for the ceremony on the July afternoon before the evening ceremony. "What's the problem, Bones? You look great!" Jim teased, adjusting the elaborate blue tunic on his wedding outfit. Spock had strongly urged him to wear blue because it was so "aesthetically pleasing" on him. Bones had a forest green tunic that suited his darker complexion quite well, but the faces he was making ruined the effect. "It's too stiff and uptight. Pinches my neck. I feel unnatural." "Better than a tux," Jim reminded him. "You'll be okay, Bones. Anyway, I need your moral support right now. This is a huge deal for me." Bones's face softened. "Sure is, kid. Just think about how purty Spock will be all dolled up in her Vulcan Finest." Jim's stomach lurched thinking about it. He hadn't seen her for three days, that being the required period of separation for a betrothed couple before the bonding took place. He imagined she would be devastatingly beautiful, whatever she was wearing. Spock, meanwhile, was being pampered and beautified from her dark hair to her toes, her own nerves occasionally rising to the surface as Her cream and gold bridal array was carefully arranged and fastened precisely. Most of her hair was piled on her head except for two curled locks dangling in front of her ears and soft gold satin slippers added a pretty touch for her feet. Amanda and Nyota stepped back and smiled tearfully at the result of their labors and turned Spock to face the mirror. "See how beautiful you are, darling?" Amanda whispered. Spock was.... pleasantly surprised. She did indeed feel and look like a bride. In just one hour, she would be walking towards Jim in the ceremonial circle where all weddings were held on Vulcan. "I feel....emotional, mother," she said, slightly bewildered. "Happy and sad and nervous and excited all at once." "Of course you do, dear," Amanda said, smoothing out the gold Train that flowed from Spock's shoulders to sweep the ground behind her. "I felt that way myself when I married your father. It's a leap into a brand new chapter of your life. Soon you'll have the wonderful marriage bond and be able to teach Jim clever uses for it." Spock blushed. She did look forward to helping Jim adjust to the telepathic connection. What they did with it, well, she didn't dare imagine yet. "Nyota, you look very pleasing as well," she told her friend, who was wearing a red Vulcan gown and had done her own hair in similar style to Spock. "Thanks. I do love the design--sleek, elegant and pretty. I wonder how much Len's griping about his own Vulcan garb," she chuckled. Spock guessed quite a bit, knowing the doctor's propensity for grumbling.   As evening neared, both parties arrived at the ceremony site, where torches blazed and a audience of important Vulcans and earth friends stood waiting. The arches of stone in a circle made Jim think of Stonehenge, the ancient site in Britain, but these were still neat and standing. The air smelled faintly spicy from incense and Jim could feel the solemnity of the occasion hit him hard. This was it. No going back. Bones squeezed his arm supportively as he took his position at the center of the circle. The elders of Spock's clan arrived next and then T'Pau, Sarek, and Amanda and Uhura. Bones made a weird noise in his throat that he disguised as a cough and Jim smiled. Then he saw Spock and it was his turn to be awed. She was.......stunning--all in cream and gold with her black hair done up elaborately and gold jewelry sparkling in the torchlight. The dark eyes were looking at him approvingly and Jim couldn't believe this was happening to him of all people. The procession stopped as they met him in the center of the circle and T'Pau took charge. After giving a brief greeting and stating the purpose of the gathering she turned to the couple. "Do you, James Tiberius Kirk, intend to bind yourself to this woman as her mate for life? "Yes," Jim said, still looking at Spock. "Do you, S'chn T'gai Spock, intend to bind yourself to this man as his mate for life?" "Yes," Spock replied firmly. At the matriarch's nod, she slipped her arm through Jim's and they faced T'Pau. It was a fairly long ceremony with all the speeches and Vulcan blessings, but then they were kneeling for the bonding part and T'Pau placed her hands on them and facilitated the joining of their minds. Jim felt the presence of Spock in a way he'd only had glimpses of before. It was powerful and warm and he could feel her contentment and love washing over him as he tried to project his own joy right back to her. T'Pau gently placed Spock's hand in his, which brought color flooding into both their faces and completed the joining. Uttering another blessing upon them, their clan, and their future offspring, she bade them rise and pronounced them bondmates. That was the signal for Captain Pike to take her place and Jim and Spock to start the human vows. He beamed at them as they faced each other. This portion went smoothly and quickly: Jim and Spock repeated after him the well-known classic vows with the "for better or worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part." Then an exchange of rings which got Spock blushing again, and Pike declared "Jim, you may kiss your bride." The humans cheered as Jim introduced Spock to the delights of human kissing, leaving them both a little breathless and giddy. He couldn't remember ever kissing someone he'd actually wanted to, let alone loved, so it was like a first time for him as well. No one else ever shall do so without your consent. he heard in his head. Spock must have read his thoughts. He smiled at her, mesmerized by her exquisite face glowing in the dim firelight. You're right, gorgeous. No one but you is allowed to kiss me. I shall endeavor to do so frequently, my adun. And Spock went up on tiptoe to kiss her beloved once again. Sarek was rather amazed at his daughter's boldness, but Amanda giggled with glee. Those two were so perfect for each other and Jim's face as he embraced his new wife was unforgettable. She barely recognized the hollow shell he'd once been standing in her house with broken Shackles lying at his feet. "Are you crying, my wife?" Sarek inquired. "Happy tears, honey, happy tears," she sighed, wiping them away. "I'm so glad you brought him home with you that day four years ago. Turns out Vulcans are the best thing for him." "And caring humans," he added, looking at her. "Now, shall we offer congratulations to the newly bonded pair?" Amanda took his arm and they joined the throng surrounding the bride and groom.

#broken shackles #spock x kirk #spirk #AU #Fem! Spock

[abigfuckingbully]

Call Out Cancer 1

Call Out Cancer/How I became a ‘stalker’ I knew her for 8 years before we’d ever fucked. We both shared a mutual attraction the entire time we’d known each other but she had a boyfriend the entire time I’d known her so the mutual sexual attraction remained ‘hidden’, as hidden as any sexual attraction could be. People know and notice it but remain committed enough to abstain from acting on the impulse. Only an idiot would hold the belief that it’s untrue that every guy wants to fuck your girlfriend. They almost all want to fuck your girlfriend except maybe people who know and care about you. Because respect for men usually comes with a disinterest in their partner. Unless yr singing “Jesse’s girl” or “My best friends girl” or some pathetic shit like that. It was good timing, I had just cheated on my girlfriend for the third and final time before being exposed. I don’t know how she knew but the girl L, who I slept with called me and as soon as she hung up my girlfriend at the time knew and asked directly, “Did you sleep with L?” I suspected my friend J ratted me out to Remy. I tried breaking up with Remy but she convinced me to continue to be with her. I at that point decided I no longer gave a fuck and though I could eventually let the rotting limb of our relationship fall apart so that I could regain: myself! I was sick of the pressure of having a hot wealthy girlfriend had on my psyche. I was failing to provide for myself and I hated who I was being, being taken care of by a woman who needed me to get my shit together. She loved me but I don’t miss her. Anyways, we broke up. After breaking up/cheating on her and being exposed, I headed back home to live with my Momma. Back in San Jose, where 'C’ who I had known for 8 years and knew wanted to fuck me lived. ’M’ international artist and Instagram phenomena, who I also would later start fucking again, got me 'C’s’ phone number. I made sure to text her as soon as I got in. C I mean. Messaging C was easy for me and she arranged to meet me within the week. I started seeing C. As soon as we slept together she got weird and said that she wanted us to be discrete. That she didn’t like the idea of being open about us being together. I being a pussy at this time, passively agreed to this 'idea’ though I do remember asking 'Why?'She explained that she did break up with 'R’ but 'R’ was still a part of her life and she didn’t want him to be totally aware of 'us.’ I can’t remember whether she wanted to hide it or just not announce it but I shouldn’t have agreed either way. But being squeamish at/around age 22 about conflicts with women, I passively entertained an affirmative to this idea. I should already see I’m being groomed but not enough experience with sketchy/self centered women made me a really naive and “nice” guy. (“You’re so affectionate.” she would say after we fucked. Like caring about who you’re fucking was weird/gay.) I continued sleeping with her regardless, ignoring the important gut feelings that I was going to be fucked over by this person/these people. But I’m 22. I don’t exactly 'get it’. After beginning to fuck her I would have nightmares in her bed. I once had a nightmare where a man appeared suddenly at the foot of this bed. (in a punk house/shed) with an enormous sledge hammer. The lighting was pink/red and as the man lifted the sledge hammer to bash my brains out. I woke up screaming, shot up in her bed, surrounded by three tick infested dogs, the breeds a mystery to me. It was only a few times out before things god bad. I remember being half naked in her bed when she explained to me that her boyfriend was texting. She informed me of the text. “He’s saying that you fetishize women of color.” “What is he even basing that in?” I asked. “Because I’m dating you?” “I don’t know. I don’t agree with it.” This was another point in which I clearly should have fucked off. It’s clear that this guy is desperate to do/say anything out of jealousy to get this girl to stop fucking me. I was a victim of the abuse of call out/cancel culture. Who the fuck could even reason with these people. Their politics were so backwards–they were literally masking personal cowardice in the idea of a progressive politic. The dudes clearly possessive of your pussy and should be addressed. But here I am, an innocent man, suddenly on trial. Are these people retarded? Call out culture wasn’t invented to keep men out of yr ex-gf’s pussy. We continued seeing each other. I don’t know why I didn’t see this as a potential end. But I didn’t. I was clearly committed to the relationship. I mean I knew her for 8 years. She was a 'progressive’. She wouldn’t treat me like fucking dirt. She knows how fucked up it would be… II. One day we met up with each other at her place. She was having a lot of friends over. I knew her friends and I trusted them. They were also 'progressives’ and I felt that would warrant proper treatment. My life would not become a Bush song. Or so I thought. We hung out that day. A walk around San Pedro Square and St. James then out to burritos at La Victoria’s. They were talking food quality. Apparently she was an aficionado. I had hardly ever complained about food so being aware of food quality was low priority. I grew up to poor to give a fuck. I wasn’t going to notice anything that wasn’t inedible. By mid afternoon we met up at her house. She was invited to a show that was going on that day in Oakland but because she was having car trouble she said she wouldn’t be going. So, I, after everyone offered her a ride, and she would deny them, I thought, maybe, I know it’s crazy, that we would keep hanging out. I asked. She said yes. So we started getting settled into her bed, in her shed, the bed I have nightmares in when I stayed/slept over. We were watching Netflix. I can’t remember what but as we were watching she got a text. It was from her ex boyfriend. He was offering her a ride. I understood that her ex boyfriend was going to be a part of her life but I wasn’t cool with being a stand-in on-call for him. She 'asked me’ if it would be okay if she went to the show. I was too ashamed to voice ti at the time but I felt really annoyed that I was expendable and that we just agreed to hang out but now that her boyfriend/ex boyfriend was free, I was disposable. I got ready to leave because it’s not a self respecting position to tell a woman disinterested in you/oblivious to your being that it actually pisses you off that she’s renegging. I left without saying how I really felt. Not because I"m a coward but because the situation didn’t make sense to me until I was separated from it. I explained my feelings about the whole thing in text as I was waiting on the bus bench for the 22. I was getting a sunburn and getting pissed off. That plans with me meant nothing. I told her how I felt respectfully but angry. She didn’t respond well. If I remember right she invalidated my feelings by saying I didn’t have a right to be angry. As if women I fuck determine this right. I said some harsh words, got home, thought about it more,and got even angrier. That’s when I resorted to Facebook messages to explain my feelings. I was even more pissed and less eloquent. The responses to my feelings were vague and hugely political. It wasn’t a political issue. Which is when I realized how often the idea of the personal being political was abused to avoid dealing directly and simply with a relationship issue.(This would be when I realize how rare it is to actually meet a feminist and not a person who used feminism to was their hands of the consequences of their decisions.) (Could never be fully 'feminist’ after this.) (But it gets worse.) She ended up made at ME after I tried to explain how fucked up it is that plans w/ me are dependent on if her ex boyfriend was/is available. She said I was being 'abusive’. I had done nothing but voice my anger and she reiterated that I didn’t have a right to my anger. The browbeating worked. I was young and a feminist so I started to think I was 'overreacting’ and was in the wrong. Even then it was obvious I Was getting the shaft. Next time I saw her I said sorry. She said, “I don’t want to be anyone’s emotional punching bag.” She misused it. As if voicing my anger to a woman was the equivalent of abuse. As soon as my apology came out I realized how fucked up this idea was. No matter how angry I was it seemed that having a spine and not being overly grateful for getting pussy had landed me in a category of 'abusive.’ Even if I had said, “FUCK YOU YOU ARROGANT FUCKING CUNT,” Which I never said, this would still be, to me, within the realm of an okay expression of anger. I never let the awful things women have said to me in anger get me down no matter how bad it got. I would never claim 'abuse.’ I would recognize systemic shit talk or violence as abuse. All other expressions including a woman pitching shit at me was welcome Not because I"m a submissive but because I had seen in my life people spend endless amounts of time trying to be intelligent and articulate about what angered them only to find them wildly unhappy and just as repressed as if they’d said nothing at all. It was a greatly misunderstood virtue to be pissed and just say what you feel/think. People should have the tolerance to be prepared for the worst a human can say and return to normal after a conflict. Especially being fucked with at this point. But I said sorry to her at a restaurant. A jazz club that I am now banned from for something I would do during a literal psychotic break. Fuck Stritch and the cokehead/failing musician who runs it. She was with her friends who were also arrogant enough to forgive me. After this we stopped spending time with each other. I don’t remember what happened or how it happened I was too mad. I had borrowed her Anne Sexton book after sharing the poems I wrote her in my book, 'Dumb Stuttering Free’ that I would plug here but it’s now extinct/out of press, and that was the end of seeing her. I would message her again feeling worse than ever about how this person was treating me. She wouldn’t meet me in person to talk about it. I pressed the issue in FB messages. Nothing would be resolved. Instead I would be banned from the cafe this woman worked at. I’d been writing at that cafe since before she was an employee and I didn’t understand how having sex with someone then pissing them off was grounds to get permanently banned from the space. I knew that if the roles were reversed no one would even give a fuck that I’d fucked this person and there wouldn’t be any issue of 'being in the same space.’ This seemed like something a child would do. III. I got back from my 3 months in New York only meeting Sarah Jean out of the Bunny Rogers, Sarah Jean, Lucy K Shaw, and Gabby Bess I went looking for at Mellow Pages when I went. I lost my mind (literally) and also lost my job stealing from work. I was caught the same day I’d secured my own room as well. So I gave it three months. Now that I was at home again I knew I was going to be in the same town as this bitch for a while. I thought I Would make an effort at friendship/peace again. I still had her boring Anne Sexton book so I went to the cafe people hadn’t informed me officially of being banned from, (again, these people seem oblivious of how to do their own community policing,and I will never trust women again.) I went in with the book to return it and make peace. She 'wasn’t there’ so I went the next day as I was told to by a girl who worked there. Because 'C’ the cunt who gaslights me, would be here the next day. That day I would realize that the bitch had in fact been there yesterday but was too spineless to come upfront so her obese friend 'O’ approached and explained I was banned from the cafe. 'O’ was 'C’s roommate at the punk house she lived at. I have never hated women more. To boycott this treatment, I would visit the cafe during a night of one of their events with the band Wild Moth, friends of mine, playing. I knew it was likely I would get kicked out but I wanted to protest this evil bitch’s treatment of me and her alarmist position–I went early to the show. Her friends who still all liked me were there and we hung out before the show. The bitch who’d accused me of stalking her and had invited me to stick a knife in this bitch’s side, eventually came. Like a crazy person, she sat down, noticed me, then started growling and yelling. She walked huffy into the venue/cafe. Then the band came out. They gave me a friendly treatment. They asked me how I was/how writing was going and didn’t treat me like a stalker. But…they did ultimately explain that I couldn’t go to this show and that I should go to the next one. This was when I stopped supporting them. There’s no reason to be friends with people this spineless. Pandering to the human baby…it was this point that I had stopped being a feminist. That’s how I became a stalker. Other businesses were informed of my behavior. I was despised and lied about throughout my town. That’s how I became a 'stalker.’

[saundrahuff-blog]

Mother daughter relationship

I grew up with barely any time spent with my mother. She was there. But I was not her first pick. In the beginning we lived in a two bedroom singlewide. Two girls and two boys. But, my dad died when I was four and we moved to my grandparents. From Gary, Indiana to Sand Creek, Michigan. So until the single wide arrived, we stayed with my grandparents. When it arrived, my mom moved down there with my elder sister. I was left with my two younger brothers with grandma and grandpa. My grandparents lived in another decade, they were not considered abusive by their definition. Today's definition? Totally. We were spanked until we Literally could not sit down. Girls did the work, boys played. I grew up being told daily I was worthless and will never find anyone willing to marry me. When one of us did something wrong, all of us was punished. First by grandma then grandpa then mom. Three beatings. Guaranteed. My sister escaped because she could go to the trailer. Mom worked. So it was just me with my grandparents. They told me daily that the reason I was left with them was because mom didn't want me. I was told I was ugly, stupid, and will never amount to anything. Why? Because this was the exact way they were raised. It was how my mom was raised. By the time the living arrangements changed, I was already damaged. Why was the cruelty accepted towards me and not the others? Because when I was six, one of my uncles was grooming me. When I told someone that he was touching me in bad places. Instead of protecting me, I was slapped, called a liar, and from that moment on, treated as a person who did not deserve any consideration. Even to this day, my family still has this thinking. There is no Cinderella ending to this. They still think that way. No matter what I do, I'm considered the bad one. And for a time, I did nothing to change it. But I left home, joined army, went to Germany from 86 till 91. Was almost killed a few too many times, made some really horrible choices, married and loved some of the worst men I could find. And got pregnant with my daughter. Her father tried getting me to have an abortion, then miscarriage, then tried to sell my baby, and lastly tried kidnapping her. To say I was messed up emotionally would not really describe it. Ptsd was not a thing. It was called emotionally disturbed. To get help, I would loose my daughter. So I just ignored and buried everything and denied there was a problem. I left the army, came home, and found out nothing changed. I had done more in my life then any of them ever would. I experienced events that would change history while they just read about it. I survived terrorists attacks multiple times. But to them I was still this loser who deserved nothing. And this was what my daughter grew up with. To try to describe living with ptsd and denying anything is wrong is impossible. If you have not lived it yourself you cannot understand how debilitating it was to have two or three panic attacks a week. My fear of crowds meant grocery shopping was a nightmare. Going anywhere was a nightmare. I lived with Michigan Militia behind my house. Look them up. Guns were going off all the time. And this was how I raised my daughter. At first, I didn't see the damage I was causing her. It was how I was raised. I didn't think what I was doing was abusive. I'm not sure what event happened that made me stop and realize that what I was doing was child abuse. But I knew things had to change. That my daughter was growing up thinking as I did. I couldn't do that to her. I had to stop that nightmare. So I had to make that first step. I admitted to myself that what I was doing was wrong. I needed help. This way of life had to change, the abuse stops here. The years of therapy was just not fun. Confronting what I had done was just as bad and reliving the every thing that was done to me. But ptsd was beginning to be understood. So the help I got was actually working. Medicine was given that actually had affect. I could look in the mirror and not hate the person looking back. But there was nothing I could do to undo the damage I caused with my daughter. She got to relive my early years. Seeing that, admitting I was the cause killed me. But I had to own it. For her to have any chance of healing, I had to admit I was the cause. And fix it. Fix myself. And try to get her to see she needed help also. It wasn't until she herself had a child that she finally got to a place she saw what was happening. She was starting out to recreate every mistake I ever made in raising her. But, luckily, the Cinderella story did happen for her. She got help. And part of that help is to confront the people who caused you to be that way. When I did it, I was called a liar. Hated even more. My family was never willing to even think they did anything bad towards me. That all my problems were because I was just a horrible person. For my daughter, I was determined that I had to do everything that was necessary to help her heal. Which was to own up to her that yes, I did abuse you. The fact that it was because of me having ptsd and had grew up thinking this was normal behavior was irrelevant to the actual harm I caused her. That I was more sorry for all the pain I caused didn't really help her heal. But, at least admitting it gave her the validation that I never got. And it was from there that our relationship grew to what it is today. There are still bad moments. When she was in a coma after the crash, the nurses asked were she got her diagnosis of ptsd. The look they gave me when I told them from me was funny. And when I told them that I was the one that kept encouraging her to get help and that I had already gotten it first, it was the first time I ever received that look of mixed respect. I didn't understand why. One actually had to tell me. I was the first person that ever owned up to being the cause of abuse. That I recognized what I did was bad, that I got help without having to have police or cps involved was very novel to them. I'm not saying that as a good for me, but rather why the hell isnt there more who admit the fucked up things they caused others to live thru. I think because of that, everything, that's why we have survived some truly awful moments from the crash onward. I was willing to do anything to make sure she kept fighting. I never gave up. I never allowed her to either. They would tell me what needed to happen next for her to survive, and I took it as another mission to accomplish. Failing was not even a consideration. And I made sure she made it. And when she woke up, faced with her new normal, broken, in pain, and her mind in a constant nightmare, I made sure she knew that if she had survived everything in life so far, she will this as well. She survived. She healed better than they predicted. She has made leaps in healing both body and mind. It's not the first time dealing with terrible memories. And learning that both of us having the background of surviving abuse probably helped us both in dealing with the experiences we are going thru now was a little weird. And humorous. Our sense of humor has gotten really out there. We can find the laughter in almost any situation now. Almost losing her leg? ''Tis but a scratch. Almost dying? She played the ultimate ding dong dash with God. Dealing with her fear of being in a car? But did you die? And doing it in front of others is best. You get to see their reactions. And they are the best. Her and I can have any topic of conversation. You cannot embarrass us. You cannot find a topic we won't talk about. People have tried. We have found that my public filter is broken and I'm halfway there to breaking hers. We can be so mad at each other that we are not speaking and in the middle of that, get excited about seeing something we know the other would love and take a timeout and share it, then go back to not speaking again. Her explaining what being bisexual to me embarrasses her friends more than us. Especially if I ask them a question. When they talk in their coded anime characters conversations, I at least get enough I can get most of it. And her warning them that I know more than other parents and that I don't mind talking about what others run from the room over is a source of laughter for us. Our relationship is closer than any mother daughter relationship I've ever seen. The fact that it started from such a dark time for both of us helps. We don't have the worst experiences. We are not the most abused or damaged people out there. Our background is not the most evil. But it's enough that we understand. The fact that we deal with each challenge honestly comes from those dark moments for us. That we can enjoy moments grabbed from anywhere anytime is proof of how hard we have worked. That we took a chance on finding real relationships with others is proof also. That we found happiness with partners who we trust is truly wonderful. And that we honestly understand just how remarkable and wonderful, and miraculous. We are lucky. We have survived some horrible things. But we know we have each other. We know we will fight for each other. We know that no matter what, we will support each other. And this is why I believe we have the best mother daughter relationship of anyone I know.