#ive been saying this shit for ten years now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tojiscumdumpster · 4 months

Text

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ iv. toji/reader/suguru

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⭑๋࣭ summary page

please refresh your memory of the content warnings that's mentioned on the summary page. this chapter will include s*xual activites.

Toji

My wife cheated on me. Not a lot of shit can hurt me, but that did. I know I haven’t been the best husband, though, I never expected it to get to the point where she would go fuck someone else. I can’t be surprised that other men are interested in her because look at her— she’s fucking gorgeous.

Nice big tits.

Curvy body.

An ass that requires me to hold with both of my hands.

Beautiful brown skin that glowed so brightly it makes the sun jealous.

Aside from her looks, Y/N has a heart of gold.

I was rough around the edges when we first met ten years ago. Still am, but with her? I’m soft. Vulnerable. There’s a side of me that’s reserved for her and her only. She doesn’t pity me for my fucked up past, and she doesn’t try to understand me because although her past isn’t all peaches and cream, she hasn’t experienced what I have. However, she made me feel… reassured. Heard. Emotions that feel foreign to me. Imagine a shitty motherfucker like me who kills people for a living would fall in love and get a girl like Y/N.

Luck was on my side the day she agreed on being mine forever, but now? I’m not feeling so lucky.

I feel angry. Betrayed. Frustrated. Annoyed. Every negative thing you can think of—all while I’m fucking her.

I’ve been pounding into her tight, wet pussy for the past two hours. Time after time making her cum and scream my name until I feel like the fucker that touched her is out her system.

I’ve declined Y/N several orgasms, but still gave her five, going onto six. My right hand finds comfort around her neck while my left is busy rubbing her clit with my thumb. She’s spread out so pretty on the bed for me, tears of pleasure staining her gold shining cheeks. I keep fucking her with no intention of letting up and let’s just say seeing her tits bouncing with my thrusts is the reason why.

Well, at least one of the reasons.

Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve been without her pussy for this long. Ten months to be exact, and despite Y/N sharing what’s mine, her pussy still molds around me. I’m the only motherfucker that can fuck her like a whore, but cherish her like she’s the only woman in the world—because she is… for me.

Now when I look at her, I think of that bitch that had the pleasure of knowing what she feels like.

Suddenly, I’m pissed again.

My strokes are hungrier, more passion and anger filled. The harder I fuck her, the louder Y/N and her pussy gets. She’s so fucking wet there’s a puddle forming underneath of all her releases. I love how messy she gets, seeing her cream coat my cock. Y/N is squeezing me so damn hard and she sounds so sweet.

“Look at you. A pathetic slut while whimpering on my cock,” I say, mockingly. “Is this how you sound when you let that motherfucker touch you?”

“T-Toji… Toji, please -”

“That wasn’t a rhetorical fucking question, Y/N,” I bit out. “Answer me.”

Her pussy clenches, moaning softly. “No, fuck… ”

“Open your mouth.” Gosh, I’m so fucking tempted to praise Y/N. I fell in love with her because she’s stubborn, but she always listen to me without hesitation, opening her mouth like a good girl.

I formed saliva in my mouth to allow a long and slow string of spit drip into hers, and the minute Y/N swallows, she cums for the sixth time tonight.

I chuckle, menacingly. “My spit turns you on that much? You like getting fucked in this tight pussy like a whore? Because that’s what you are.”

This pussy is so goddamn wet and warm. Tight as shit, too. Fuck, she’s taking me so well.

“Oh, God! Fuck, Toji, fuck. It’s too much, baby,” she cries.

I apply more pressure to her throat. “Shut up.” I push past every single one of my thrusts and drive deeper in her pussy, rubbing her clit harder than before. “Give me one more.”

Y/N drew her brows together and opened her mouth to protest, looking so damn pretty. “I… I don’t think I can.”

“Yes, you fucking can,” I growl. This is the closest praise she’ll get from me tonight. “Greedy fucking pussy still holding onto my cock. I know she wants some more of my cum. Don’t you think, sweets?” I didn’t give Y/N a chance to answer before I released her throat to hold her thick waist tightly.

I pull her down on my cock fast and hard, balls slapping her pussy to make the most pornographic sound. She hesitates about putting her hand near my pelvic to relieve the pressure, but I know she wants to prove to me that she can take me.

That’s my girl.

I continue to fuck her aggressively at a frantic pace, deeper, brutally until my release rushes to the tip of my cock and shoots inside her. This load may be the heaviest, and of course, she cums and squirts on me… again. Fuck, I love it. I pound into her until my dick pops out of Y/N’s pussy due to her wetness.

As I come down from my own high, I watch Y/N shake uncontrollably, panting and whimpering like a bitch in heat. She’s so fucking sexy. She cheated on me. Not once, but twice. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about her. Like I’m trying to prove I’m worthy enough to be her husband…

Vulnerability and insecurity pings my chest.

I hate fucking feeling this way. I shouldn’t be running Y/N a warm bath to bring her to, changing the sheets, and going back to the bathroom to wash her. She cheated on me , so she should be catering to me . I know I neglected her. I haven’t told her I love and appreciate her in months. First time fucking her in months. Don’t remember the last time we went on a date. I know I have been a shitty husband, but still…

The next morning came, but sleep wouldn’t come to me. So I sat up most of the night watching Y/N sleep. I felt like a fucking creep, however, I couldn’t help myself. She’s just so… perfect. And I’m the first motherfucker to say nothing or no one is perfect in this fucked up life… it just doesn’t apply to her.

Eventually, Y/N woke up and we’ve been in this comfortable, yet painful silence. Just us staring at each other and having a conversation with our eyes. I look at her and sometimes I still find it hard to believe that she fucking cheated on me.

“Why’d you do it?” I didn’t mind the quiet, but my mind would’ve exploded with how loud it’s being right now.

Her deep ochre complexion bathed underneath the sunlight that flashes in our room. She looks surreal, like a goddess. Paid millions for a penthouse to have the pleasure of looking at her first thing in the morning. Not like I have been taken advantage of it anyway.

She softly sighs. “Explaining to you why I did it will sound like a justification when it’s not.”

“Just tell me.”

“I… I thought you didn’t love me anymore,” she says, quietly.

“What?” Y/N’s response surprises the hell out of me, but I can tell this conversation is just as heavy as it is for me because tears start streaking down her cheeks.

“You haven’t touched me in almost a year, Toji. Every time I tried, you always rejected me. I felt so embarrassed. You don’t even look at me anymore.”

“I do.”

She shakes her head. “Not like how you used to. Not like right now, even if you’re mad at me.”

Hearing her reason hurts me, but I allow her to continue because she looks like she’s just getting started.

“I wanted attention. I want to feel desired, alive. Appreciated… loved—”

“You love that motherfucker?” I growled.

“No, Toji. Fuck,” she lets out an exasperated breath, sitting up and allowing the sheets to fall from her chest. I can’t pretend I’m not getting hard while seeing her tits swollen and nipples pebbled, but now isn’t the time. “I feel so pathetic explaining to you. Do you really think I love, let alone look at anyone the way I do with you?”

No.

“I know you don’t.”

“I just want to feel like that girl next door again when I was twenty-five and being reckless with a random guy I spent my whole entire night with. Free. Alive… happy. I just want to be happy with you.”

Even if it’s not what I wanted to hear, this conversation was needed. I will never forget that Y/N cheated on me, but I can somewhat understand. She’s a stay-at-home wife. I told her I didn’t want her to work. We have no kids. It’s been this way for a decade. Y/N gets bored and lonely. Now that she mentions it, I have rejected or ignored her advances when she tries to have sex.

Our marriage isn’t perfect. I’m fucked up. She fucked up, but she’s my sanity… I’m not willing to throw that away.

I deeply sigh. “I hear you, and I’m sorry that I make you feel like I don’t love you. I do. I fucking love you so much. I would give up my life for you. No hesitation. You know that, right?”

“I know, baby.” Baby… fuck, I miss the way that sounds.

“I’ll work on being a better husband, but let me just say this.” My voice darkens, grabbing her chin to force her to look into my eyes. “No more of that motherfucker. You. Are. Mine. No one else's. You. That pussy. All of you belong to me. Don’t fucking share what’s mine again. I make myself clear?”

All the tears and pain Y/N had before were replaced. Her beautiful big brown doe eyes deepened with hunger and lust. I know she’s turned on. Her nipples are practically screaming at me and she’s squeezing her thighs underneath the sheets. After all that fucking I gave her last night, she’s craving for more. I guess in a way I do have a lot of months to make up for.

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?”

“I want you fuck me.”

I chuckle, closing the distance between our lips. “Is that how you ask?”

“Toji, please come fuck me. I need you, baby.” Begging so fucking sweetly.

“Fuck, Y/N.” I crash my lips onto hers and fuck her endlessly like she asked.

Reader

Eventually I had to get ready for tonight’s event after being worshiped for hours by Toji. He fucked me with anger last night, but this morning… he made love to me. Our conversation about my cheating and his lack of effort in our marriage led to endless orgasms that put me to sleep until two hours ago.

Now we were hand held walking into a mansion the size of a country.

The Zen’in Estate.

Every year Toji’s cousin, Naoya, throws a huge party where rich people would come together to be snotty and talk about their wealth.

Toji and I live a pretty luxury lifestyle, but this party is definitely not our forte. Nonetheless, we come to show our support because that’s the last piece of family Toji has left and their relationship is good.

Unorthodox, but good.

Speaking of the devil…

“Cousin Toji. Y/N. It’s nice to see the beautiful couple make it.” Bleached blonde hair. Piercings, standing at six feet tall—Naoya Zen’in. The resemblance between Toji and his cousin never ceases to amaze me. Whatever is in that Zen’in blood runs deep. Hard to believe they’re just cousins.

“Y/N, it’s been awhile and I see you’ve only gotten more beautiful since we last saw each other,” he says, giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek. Naoya pulls away, but keeps his hands at an appropriate spot on my back. “Stunning you are. Maybe it’s not too late for you to leave that jackass and come be with me.” Heat crawls in the center of my face at his compliment. I see Naoya is still Naoya.

Arrogant, cocky, flirtatious, and bold. Also, handsome. Very handsome, at that. The navy blue suit he’s wearing, where I could tell it’s a custom from how it’s tailored to his body compliments him well. But of course, he knows I’m not interested.

Before I opened my mouth to protest, Toji let out a low warning growl and put a possessive hand around my waist to pull me back to his side. “Tread lightly, Zen’in.”

“Everything okay, Cousin Toji? You seem tense,” he asks, mockingly.

“Where’s your wife? I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate how you’re talking to my wife .”

Naoya smirks. “I can guarantee you Teresa doesn’t mind. And to answer your question, she excused herself to the ladies room. Should be back any min—ah, there she is!”

I turn around and smile when I see Teresa walking toward us. Her natural coils are blown straight and cascading down her back. Beautiful brown skin that was a shade deeper than mine.

Teresa had curves of a model. Soft and dipped in the right places that filled her backless navy colored gown perfectly. She was beyond gorgeous. How was Naoya able to charm her into a marriage? Not sure. But here we are anyway.

I leave Toji's side to give Teresa a tight hug. “Ah, I miss you, T. It’s been too long. You look so beautiful.”

“I missed you, too, Y/N. And me? Look at you, gorgeous! Tits out, high slit?” she says cheerfully. “I’m surprised Toji hasn’t pulled you to a room yet.”

Toji chuckles, placing a kiss on Teresa’s cheek. “That’s what I’m planning on doing later. High slit. Better access.” I feel my cheeks warming up and wetness pooling my panties from his words because I know he’s serious. “It’s good to see you, Teresa. See you haven’t left Naoya yet.”

“Nope. Not yet. Well, I probably can’t,” Teresa teases while placing a hand on her stomach. She moves to Naoya’s side to which he gives her a sensual kiss. “I’m pregnant.”

“Really? Congratulations. That’s amazing. I finally have a reason to spend more money,” I elated, earning an eye roll from Toji. It’s his money I’m using, as if he cares because his spending habits are just as bad as mine. “How far along are you?”

“Nine weeks. We just found out two days ago.” The conversation continues with Teresa and I catching up and discussing baby plans while our husbands bicker, as usual.

Eating, mingling, and a few glasses of champagne for me, hours later, Toji and I fell into a comfortable silence while swaying to the sound of music. His hand found comfort on the small of my back, causing heat and chills to radiate my body while my cheek rested on his chest to listen to his heartbreaks. Despite the hiccups in our marriage and my infidelity, Toji’s presence has always been comforting for me. I just feel so safe in his arms like if I am, no one will do me any harm.

Though, if looks could kill, half of the men in this room would be dead from Toji’s daggered look.

I knew how possessive and overprotective Toji was the moment I became his. Any type of male interaction I have, he gets jealous. No exceptions. Not even his cousin, but of course he’s an exception to not feeling Toji’s fist down his throat because he knows he does it to annoy him.

And it works every time. I giggle just thinking about it.

“Something’s funny?” Toji’s deep and raspy voice breaks me from my thoughts.

“No,” –I looked up at him–“just the alcohol.”

“Ready to go home?”

“No. Already trying to snatch me away?” I tease.

“Maybe. All these motherfuckers keep staring at you, and I know their thoughts aren’t PG.”

I shrug. “Cons of having a hot wife, no?”

He smiles. “You look beautiful, Y/N. I don’t know if I told you that already.” He has. Over a dozen times, but who’s counting? I’m definitely not complaining.

I did feel gorgeous tonight. My emerald colored asymmetrical dress with a hint of sparkle matched perfectly with Toji’s eye color. Modest, but sexy with a high slit and strapless to show off the fullness of my tits. Light makeup and claw clip hairstyle that had my tendrils framing my face.

“Thank you, Mr. Zen’in. You cleaned up well yourself,” I say, rubbing his bottom lip with my thumb. “You look handsome, baby.” Toji’s favorite color is black. Ninety-nine percent of his wardrobe is black, but it’s just something about this black velvet suit hugging his frame that’s heating my core to flames. Not to mention him gelling his hair back. Fuck, I don’t know if it’s the alcohol thinking, which I know it isn’t, but I just want him to myself right now.

“What’s on your mind, Mrs. Zen’in?” The same question from this morning that had me struggling to get out of bed.

“You know what’s on my mind.”

He smirks, lowering his head to ghost over my ears. “You want me to fuck that tight pussy again? Last night and this morning wasn’t enough for you?”

“Toji,” I softly moan. “Just a quick one.”

He kisses my neck. “Why should I?”

“Because your horny wife needs you to make her cum.”

“Shit,” he groans. “When you say it like that, you make it hard for me to resist.” Toji begins palming my ass, no worries about us being in the middle of the party.

So I return the favor, subtly massaging his clothed erection. I already knew how uncomfortably hard he was straining against his pants. I don’t know why he’s playing hard to get.

“Y/N.”

“Come fuck me, Toji.”

“Fuck.” Toji lets out a low groan before grabbing my hand to guide me away from the party to find a room.

I have a smile on my face, truly convinced that I have an addiction to his touch because the pain and pleasure Toji gives me is all that I crave.

Suguru

I’ve been here a fucking hour and I have yet to see Y/N. I’m questioning if Satoru lied just to bring me out to get over her, as he would say. I don’t need to get over Y/N. I just need to fucking see her. To taste her, smell her. Hold her and fuck that tight wet pussy of hers.

I tried to get Y/N out of my mind by fucking other people, but it didn’t work. Not even a little. No one takes my cock the way she does.

I miss her voice, sweet whimpering sounds while I’m pounding into that warm pussy. I miss how messy she got around me. I can’t fucking stand to be without her. I love her so much it hurts. I still can’t believe she ignored me forty-five times.

I’m honestly trying to remember if I ever pissed her off while we were still in contact. Aside from my asshole like tendencies that seems to charm her, I can’t think of anything.

I’m not interested in anyone else. All the women that have approached and continue to can just save their energy. None of them compare to—

“Y/N.”

“Huh?”

Satoru taps my chest. “Y/N. She’s over there. Looks like she is here with her husband.”

I look over in the direction Satoru is pointing and fuck . She looks so fucking sexy. So goddamn beautiful. I’m not even in her proximity and my cock is aching in my pants. She’s wearing a dress that’s baring her thick thighs and has the cushion of her tits out on display that bounces every step she takes. Is it possible to become even more breathtaking over the course of two weeks?

In Y/N’s case— yes .

But my arousal and joy only lasts so long until I realize that she’s being whisked away by her husband. My jaws ticked just seeing that. I expected Y/N to be here with that piece of shit to obtain an image, but she looks… happy. The smile on her smile shows excitement, like they’re about to go… no .

You gotta be fucking shitting me .

I think no further before my legs start moving and head toward their direction. I hear Satoru calling me, asking me where I’m going, but I don’t have time to tell him. He should know.

By the time I made it to where I last saw Y/N, she had already disappeared from the party and I suspect into the dark hallway where partygoers probably won’t go.

There’s so many rooms in this fucking house. I don’t even know where to start. Calling her name out loud wouldn’t be ideal because I don’t want to scare her or sound creepy, but dammit I’m tempted.

As I get deeper in the hall, I hear soft moans and gasps coming from the double door room at the end. I know those sweet sounds from anywhere.

Y/N.

But I’m not the reason why.

I lighten my steps as I approach the door and press my ear against it to hear better.

“Toji, oh, fuck!” Y/N cries. “Right there, baby. Right fucking there.”

What the fuck?

I hear everything. The honeyed whimpers. The harsh thrusts. Her pussy taking cock and gushing around it. Y/N pleading for a release, to go harder and deeper like she asked me. All of it reminded me of our first two times together. Gosh, I fucking miss her.

I should be mad. Actually, I am. Pissed, but I can’t act like her getting fucked isn’t turning me on. My cock pressing against my pants wouldn’t allow me to lie. I just wish it was me fucking her wet pussy instead of him.

If she needed cock, why didn’t she just reply to my calls and messages? I would’ve shown up without hesitation to please her. To relish that succulent pussy I know would taste like paradise—

The sound of the door jumping startled me, but… they sound closer.

“… yours. This pussy is yours, Toji.”

The fuck it is!

I’m holding back my willpower to not bust through the doors and fucking kill her husband, but this is the closest thing I can get to Y/N right now.

I shouldn’t be doing this, palming my cock and drinking in all of her moans and drenched pussy I hear being pounded. Maybe, just maybe if I tune out her husband’s praises, I could focus on getting off to Y/N.

I look around before unbuckling my slacks to free my cock from its restraint. I shouldn’t be surprised that a bead of my precum is already leaking. Spitting on my hand to mix with precum, I used to lubricate my cock to start fisting myself.

“Hm, yes. I love your cock, Toji.”

She loves my cock.

“Keep fucking me. Harder…Harder, please .”

I grip my cock tighter and pick up the speed of my movements.

I’ll fuck you as hard as you want.

“Do you feel lucky to have me, Toji? Tell me how much you love my pussy.”

Fuck, you know I feel lucky, Y/N. I like that fat wet pussy so much. I love you, Y/N.

Heat spreads throughout my body from the excitement me and my cock are feeling. How does she sound so fucking sweet while taking cock? How can pussy be that good? I’m trying to prevent myself from cumming quickly, not wanting to cum until she does, but she’s making it hard. Me , hard.

I pump faster. I just wish it was Y/N doing this for me. I wish it was Y/N full and pretty lips stretch around my cock and taking my thrusts like a good girl. She takes me well in her pussy, I just know she would suck me off like a pro.

Thinking about it has me throbbing, aching for a touch. A visual of how she looks right now. Panting. Tears pricking. Tits bouncing obnoxiously. Her wetness, cream everywhere. At this point, I’m practically ripping the flesh off my cock.

I keep my grunts and harsh breaths low enough so only I can hear. I’m so close to coming. I just want Y/N and I to cum together.

“Toji! Fuck! God, I’m about to come again.” A sharp cry comes Y/N. I can hear her husband chuckling and to keep it down before someone hears her, but she doesn’t care.

I loll my head against the door to steady myself, massaging my balls and stroking myself to Y/N’s climax. I can get caught. I’m in the middle of the hallway jacking myself off to Y/N being fucked like a creep. But I don’t give a fuck. When it comes to Y/N, I’m unhinged. Feral. I think without reason.

“Yes.”

Yes .

I circle my hand around my cock with eagerness.

“Yes.”

I release my heavy cum filled balls to twist my length with both hands, showing extra love to my tip.

“Right there.”

I’m here, Y/N.

I thrust my hips into my palms while fisting myself.

“Keep giving it to me, Toji.”

I’ll give you everything, anything you want, pretty girl. Just cum for me, okay?

After that… my mind goes blank. My core stills as my release spills out, coating my hand and the door. I tug my bottom lip into my mouth to prevent my moans from slipping. The last time I orgasmed like this was when I fucked Y/N. I needed this. I needed to cum so badly. Of course, it’s not the same because I’m not the one who just fucked her, but this will do for now until I talk to her.

I didn’t have time to come down from my high before I heard Y/N and her husband fixing themselves to come out. I tuck my cock back in my pants, clean my release off the door, and find a bathroom further down the hall to clean myself up.

I didn’t expect to jack off to Y/N getting fucked by that jackass. It just happened. I couldn’t miss the opportunity because hearing her come sounds better than having sex with other women.

“Fuck, get it together, Suguru,” i mutter go myself. I just can’t help myself when it comes to the woman I love.

I leave the bathroom and think to myself how am I going to get Y/N away from her husband so we can talk—alone. Going up to her while she’s next to him wouldn’t be smart because I’m sure the fucker would know it’s me the minute he sees how I look at her.

Maybe I should try texting her?

No .

I’ve already texted her twenty-five times. If I make it twenty-six, she’ll think I’m weird and creepy.

I don’t want her to have that impression of me.

The last thing I want is to involve Satoru in my love life, but I can probably have him–

Y/N.

She’s less than ten feet away from me and alone. Perfect .

“Y/N!” I call loud enough for her ears only. She turns around, big brown eyes zero in on me, shocked that she sees me, like I’m a ghost.

“Suguru? Wh-” I take three long strides to close the space between us before she questions why I’m here or protests.

Talking to her in the middle of the hallway wouldn’t be ideal, so I grab her wrist and pull her into the closest room to us, not caring about her objections and attempt to break my hold. I lock the door and pull her into my chest, inhaling her creamy vanilla and warm berries scent I love so much.

“Y/N, I miss you.”

previous chapter | next chapter

#jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #anime x black!reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x black reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x black reader #geto x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji x black reader

151 notes · View notes

queerprayers · 5 days

Note

hi ! i hope you're doing well, and i just wanna say first that i love your blog and it just radiates comforting vibes :)

i wanted to ask for some advice. i chose god over a year ago after having this push-pull thing with him for almost ten before that. most of my issues with actually accepting him came from ideas i had about him from his more conservative/evangelical followers, which i began to debunk for myself after figuring out that god, not them, was who i wanted.

so i've been sticking to the old testament, mostly. i found god in there, grew to love him because of it, and it's just a beautiful text, but also there are far fewer conservative dogwhistles in there than there are in the new testament. the new testament is hard for me to look at, and i feel guilty about it.

and its like- ive grown up with jesus my whole life. my parents are methodist, i was raised methodist. but i've never felt very close to him, thanks to those who twisted his verses about love and kindness into weapons against people like me. i read these verses that mean so much (john 3:16 and the like) and all i get out of it is a crawling sense of dread. like the associations are Bad, and it seeps through the whole new testament.

all this long-winded nonsense is basically to say that somebody got their hands all over the new testament and now i look at it and it is just barren. have you ever experienced something like this? any advice on how to,, reclaim the new testament or something? (thank you so much for reading this holy shit it's long. sorry about that)

Thank you beloved, I'm glad you're here! No such thing as too long here, I promise—well, there might be on my end. (You've been warned.) I'm overjoyed that you've chosen to pursue God—separating what you've been told from what you seek to believe in is such a hard thing to navigate.

I'm gonna be honest, this is such a refreshing question and I'm glad that you're asking it. I overwhelmingly hear the opposite from Christians—that the New Testament is easy and loving and comforting, and the Old Testament is scary and violent or whatever. I always want to ask first, what their opinions of Judaism are, because that's a red flag to me; and next, have they read the NT? It isn't easy and it isn't always comforting, and I think too many Christians only read the parts that they think are. The fact that you're recognizing those hard things and wanting to deal with them is a beautiful thing—we should take these texts seriously enough to criticize and struggle with them.

First of all: You have no need to feel guilty for what other people have done with holy things, or for your emotions. You have not done something wrong by carrying this hurt with you. What we feel is not in our control—but we can listen to it. Let this be a movement of desire, not of guilt. You're seeking God past the dread. You want to grow enough that the ideas people have taught you don't stand between you and what you want—and you've already done so much of this growth. I believe that you can keep moving in the direction of God, and find God in more and more places. But you don't have to pretend it's not hard. And if it was easy I'm not sure that would be a good thing.

Your experiences and associations and discomfort and fear—they're your history and they're also the history of the text. I'm sure you've heard people say "Don't let stuff like that turn you away from the original meaning of the verses!" Or "Jesus didn't mean that!" But of course the verses hold weight. They've had baggage before they ever got to you—two thousand years of it. Hold space for the fact that they've been used to hurt you and others. That's not meaningless—it's part of the meaning now. People who claimed their destruction was what Jesus meant have added to the history of Jesus and the text—and people who created love and beauty in honor of those verses have also added to these histories. We can learn about the original meaning of the text, but we cannot erase or ignore the meanings that have existed over the years. Go into this without guilt or pressure or expectation, and bring the anger and confusion and bad experiences. The text is strong enough to handle them. God is strong enough to handle them.

I want to acknowledge that finding God in the Hebrew Bible and existing there with Them is a beautiful thing. You don't have to equally relate to every single part of a religion to create a home there. Of course I hope that you grow new connections with the NT, but if it's never the same as the OT, that's not a flaw or a failure. None of us can find all the places where God is present and hold them all equally. Our brains aren't big enough for that. You have created a beautiful connection with God, and I hope that you know that there are so many fulfilled, faithful people who have not, and will never, experience God in the NT. Of course these people generally aren't Christian—and that's obviously a choice you can make—but I hope that knowledge reminds you that you aren't doing anything wrong. You have a duty to God, not to religion. And you certainly don't have a duty to the ideas you've grown up with or translators or interpreters or even to Biblical writers. We enter religion to learn and create community and to fully live out our duty to God—religion serves us, not the other way around.

I love that you brought up conservative dogwhistles because this is a point that, again, I've heard more people fall on the other side of! More people have a problem with the politics of the OT, for lots of reasons. The NT was written much closer to our current point in history, of course, in a time and culture much more familiar to most of us than Ancient Israel. The Roman Empire's language and government and philosophy has influenced the world immensely, and I think for most people it's therefore easier to exist in/relate to/project on. For you, though, this might be having the opposite effect. The fact that the Roman Empire is closer and more influential to our culture may make you more aware of its injustices and biases. Conservatism as we know it is much closer to values found in the Christian scriptures than the Jewish ones partially because it's more culturally and politically similar to ours. (Think about how many far-right people idolize the Roman Empire! And of course, think about how many conservatives are Christians.)

I'm assuming, because you're someone who notices politics in texts, that you've probably confronted things in the OT that you've had to process and put in context and perhaps still struggle with. I know that you've been met with violence and patriarchy, and that you've read verses that you probably know have been used to justify racism, sexism, slavery, and homophobia. Perhaps you've come to these chapters and said something like, "Wow, this has been used for a lot of evil, and this is something I have to deal with, but I also want to give grace to the culture that existed this way and told these stories, see the times that systems like patriarchy are challenged and changed over time, and use this for good and liberation in my own life." Maybe this is easy for you, or maybe it's taken a lot of strength.

Barbara Brown Taylor talks about "shadow languages" in her book Holy Envy (which I recommend)—languages in the Bible that assume things, that carry with them narratives we need to look out for. She identifies the language of contempt, the one of social hierarchy, the one that glorifies suffering for suffering's sake, the one that divides reality into opposed pairs. She tells us that "the purpose of staying on the lookout for languages like these is to prevent them from becoming uncontested parts of the Christian worldview. Every time I run into one of them hard enough to hurt, I turn around and look in the opposite direction, where there is almost always a counternarrative in scripture, just waiting for someone to notice it."

I think about how slavery is not abolished in the Bible—it has not been abolished ever. At various times in history, it has been taken for granted, challenged, uprooted, and changed form. Why are the ancient Israelites freed from captivity and go on to enslave people? Why does God move them to chip away at slavery but not fully eradicate it? Why does Paul say there is no slave or free under Christ Jesus, but preserves the social hierarchy inherent to that statement? It angers me that oppression is never abolished completely and immediately, but I also know that's not how people (or true stories) work. We take a lot of things for granted—and that leads many people to conservatism. I love Paul's writings, and I also know that his greatest sin (like many of us) was believing God's love liberated only as far as his imagination. He could imagine a God who loved the enslaved, could imagine a world in which their souls were equal, but could not imagine a world without slavery. He could imagine a spiritual equality of men and women, but not a social one. The gospel writers could worship a Jewish man as God, honor the scriptures he quoted, and add no nuance to the Jewish leaders who opposed him. They could imagine a messiah coming from Judaism but could not give grace to the Judaism around them.We all have failures of imagination, and we are always wrong. (Thanks be to God.)

I am not in the business of excusing harmful systems. I don't think you should do this when tackling the NT—I think you should challenge it and accuse it and dismantle it. But I also want you to remember the grace that you have brought to the Hebrew Bible. You have found God in a text with a lot of hard things and a lot of beautiful things—I bet you can do it again. Maybe it's more personal this time, maybe it's closer to your culture, but you have the skills. And maybe this is gonna make you go back to the OT with harsher eyes—so be it. Be curious about how this changes your relationship with history—humanity's and your own. However you understand conservatism, you can find it in both parts of the Christian Bible. And you can't take away the ways people have furthered that. But you can see them, and you can build relationships with the stories, knowing that your imagination can go further—and God's goes further still. You have been taught by bigoted people and a bigoted world, and you know it. You already know you want God, not them.

So what do we do when someone got their hands all over the New Testament? I love that question, because they absolutely have. They're still doing it. Someone got their hands all over the OT too—actually, probably more and worse someones seeing as it's a Jewish text and Christian hands are inherently meddling. But this is all part of the text's history. However much we believe God was involved, people wrote in their own language and from their own culture. The curation and copying and collecting and translating and analysis inherent to the Bible's existence (it didn't spring fully formed into the King James Version) are people's hands. We can't take that away—and in fact, we needed their hands for these texts to get to us.

Reclaiming the Bible for me has not included pretending those hands don't exist—especially when they're personal. What it has included is prying some of those hands off to see God underneath. The thing about that, though, is that it gets our fingerprints involved. You can't reach into a text and find God without getting your hands dirty. There is no pure holy text in this life. The NT that you're reading—unless you're smarter than me—is already translated. You can learn to read Greek, you can study history, but you're gonna be doing it with your own hands. While you're finding God in the text, accept that even if you go all the way back, the original writers' fingerprints are on the very first copy.

Let this move you to know that none of it is empty. I acknowledge the barrenness you're describing as the only thing you can see right now—but know that even if this is overwhelming, it's proof that the text itself is full. The fact that so many people, for good and evil, have touched it and transformed it, the fact that you desire connection with it, means that it is not empty. There would be nothing there for you to want to reclaim—but you're asking.

I think it would be really interesting for you to find the humanity in the gospels. Look for the people. Yes, these are characters told and retold—you can see the fingerprints—but they were people first. Look for people reclaiming and messing around and taking cultural things for granted and challenging other things—and live in it with them. Don't approach any of it as a solid text that exists—look at it as a living, breathing text that we all tear into. And, yes, this means people are going to twist it almost beyond recognition, but they do not have a monopoly on joining the story—you bring your experiences and your biases. Be human with it, the way that I'm sure you are with the OT, which is full of flawed, evil people who sing beautiful songs. Be human with them.

Enlarge your theological circle. Read liberation theology, queer theology, disability theology. Read the Quran, which is an amazing time that people got their hands on the NT (as well as having its own history of violence). Find different, beautiful hands that tell these stories in new ways. I can't promise you'll find beauty—that's such an emotional and personal experience. We can't force beauty out of anything. But other people have found and created beauty, and we can experience it secondhand—through stained glass, a musical, a movie, a song, a poem—not because their eyes are better than yours, but because they're also honest.

Barbara Brown Taylor (again in Holy Envy) recounts wisdom from a visiting imam, who "explained that the long lineage of Muslim scholars who have worked collaboratively for centuries to interpret the Quran in the most humane ways are more to be trusted than those who spill blood based on their own readings and ambitions." There are always other traditions, and when all we can see is a weapon, there are those who will unclench our fists.

I would encourage you to make sure you have a NT text that has footnotes to tell you when someone is quoting the Hebrew Bible. The NT is in relationship with, building on and interpreting and philosophizing about, the OT. If you are coming from the OT, bring those verses with you, the same way Jesus and early Christian writers did. The New Testament as a body of work did not exist for the first Christians—the scriptures they had were the ones you have connected with. You're in such good company. Look at how easily Jesus quotes scripture, the verses he adds on to and interacts with, the prophecies he sees himself in. Look at the sacrifice imagery that the gospel writers use to talk about Jesus—assuming that the reader will be familiar with these themes. Even within the OT, we can see later Jewish prophets criticizing and conversing with earlier verses—humanity is constantly in conversation with itself and God. You have such a good foundation for understanding this relationship.

The other good foundation you have? Wrestling with a text. It's the ones we're in community with that are the ones we're most often in conflict with and hold to the highest standards—for Jesus, this was the Jewish community he was a part of, and for you, this might be the NT. Have beef with your own scriptures and communities and religious leaders—reclaiming and wrestling are what the gospels are about. Acts and the letters in the NT are continuously debating the relevance of various OT verses. Do hard work on a text, and do it in good company.

Carry with you the scriptures you love as you travel into unfamiliar or painted-over territory. Know that you have something to come back to, however far you g0. While wading into waters you don't understand, you know that there's land under your feet—and you know that it's land that Jesus valued, that all the people in the NT valued, even as they wrestled with it. The first verses of the NT are a genealogy from Abraham to Jesus's adoptive father. Christians see this all as one story—whether you believe that right now or not, the human story is constantly moving, and God is your solid ground.

Jesus set down a foundation on that rock of God and Christians have added bricks to it and torn stuff down and messed around and burned it and kept building it—but you know there's God under it, because you've seen Them. So when you read Paul awkwardly shoving some bricks together and think, "That's not how I would build a community…" know that God's under there. When you read Peter denying Jesus, know that his name still means "rock," that you can still create solid ground after everything. You know where God is, and also, our lives are ever-expanding journeys of finding where else God could be. Yours looks different from the Christians who consider the NT to be that same rock, but that's okay! It's okay if the OT is a firm foundation for you, and the NT is one of the bricks. Look for God in those awkward bricks, which I know you can do because you've already done it. King David wrote the most beautiful songs I know—you don't ignore his murder and rape, you honor the whole story.

John 3:16 is a much-loved verse—but it being more important than other verses is a construct. You don't have to like it—in fact, the context of this is Jesus talking to Nicodemus, who doesn't understand what he's saying. Jesus is very familiar with confusion and even anger as a response—and he even seems to seek it out sometimes. Nicodemus comes to him as a genuine student, and Jesus starts going on about being born again, something that his new student seems to have no foundation for. Oh, to be a confused new student rather than someone whose had "being born again" held over my head! I wish I could come to the idea with no baggage! I wish I had no foundation for that idea, so I could start over—which would, perhaps, come closer to what Jesus is saying than any evangelical teaching.

Take care, keep trudging. Whatever path this brings you to, whatever communities you end up building, know that with God as the foundation, even awkward haphazard fingerprinted ripped-up texts can tell stories that we need to hear. I can't take away the associations you have with these texts, but I can pray you create new ones. Learn new songs, meet new characters. Get your hands messy.

Don't force a positive relationship—what people have done with the text is a barrier to you right now, and this might be more of a journey with a barrier than a going through it. There are pieces of barriers I've broken open that come with me when I revisit those verses. You already have a more honest relationship with all of this than so many others, and you have the skills already to know that it is God, not the world's followers, that you want.

I hope this wasn't long-winded nonsense, and I hope something here resonates. The short answer (which I probably should have put at the beginning) is that yes, I've experienced something like this. The year I couldn't read the Bible without panicking, I cried while watching The Prince of Egypt. In the years after that, I almost came back to it like I was converting—reading the basics, starting from scratch. Growing up and becoming purposely Christian (rather than your parents exactly) is a kind of conversion, and you have to reclaim the texts, and ask God to reclaim you as you are now.

Isaiah 55:10-11 tells us that God's word pours out like rain, and never returns empty. It sticks with us until something grows inside us. And John begins his gospel by telling us that the word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. This is a living word, one that cried and got angry and fell in love with his friends and participated in a culture and wrestled with God's will and interpreted scripture and was a person with us. You'll have to forgive Christianity for being so human—God did it first. God got his fingerprints all over us, and we wrote texts that have God's living breathing word—and also our messy hands. Thank God for your hands, and the love that they will bring.

<3 Johanna

#gonna be so real this was 11 pages on google docs and i got it down to 6. so if you think this is too long just know this.#asks

60 notes · View notes

clementinechatsshit · 5 months

Text

money, power, glory - coriolanus snow x plinth!oc

description: rhea plinth wanted one thing more than anything in this world. power. this is her story of descending into the hunger for power. the addiction to it. and if she can love through this hunger.

tw: 18+ standard hunger games shizzle, strong language, spice, toxic relationships, power hungry bitches, rhea is just as twisted as snow

a/n: hi peeps, this is my first attempt at writing anything ff related, but coryo has been in my brain since i read tbosas. i didnt want to write him ooc but rather embrace the fact that he is bat shit crazy and create a character that also embraces and encourages that side of him. i dont think ive read any ffs that have a reader/oc that is also as fucked up as snow. pls be nice

What is the purpose of the Hunger Games?

I used to think that they were to bring justice to Panem. To punish the districts for the uprising. We’d always been taught that, and I believed it. Yet, now I see things a little differently. I see things for how they truly are. I was eighteen when I learnt the truth about the Hunger Games. How they are played, and how they are really won.

‘Rhea?’ a voice echoes from behind me. I snap my head around to see my brother leant against the frame of my bedroom door.

‘Sejanus, what have I said about knocking’, he flinches at my response, my tone harsher than intended.

He lowers his gaze to the blazer in his grip, cowering from the hardened stare I deliver his way. ‘I’m sorry’ weak, ‘we’re going to be late’.

I turn to fully face him, lifting my face to a content smile. My heels clack on the marble flooring as I cross the room, I pause for a second in front of him, waiting. Sejanus holds his elbow out for me to link my hand through, my gloved hand brushes the soft thread of his shirt as an avox approaches and hands me my purse.

‘Bye, mother!’, ‘See ya, Ma’ we shout as we leave the penthouse. Sejanus never stopped calling our mother ‘ma’, juvenile if you ask me. Sometimes I think he wants to be back in the districts.

The red silk of my dress grazes the bottoms of my calves as we make our way to the car, another avox our driver. I see avox’s as the perfect company, they know their place in this society, even if they did have to learn it the hard way. They know that they have no power, they have accepted that there are consequences to their actions. They don’t talk back either.

‘The Academy’ a demand, not a request.

‘Please.’ Sejanus adds

The Academy. Only the elites have the privilege of attending, and only the greats go on to study at the University. We may not be Capitol born, but we belong there more than anybody else. For ten years, I have been proving my place amongst my fellow students, before I even set foot in the Capitol, I knew I am simply better than them all.

I entered first. Shoulders back, chin up. Make them stare. The first thing I know about power. If you can’t command a room, you have none. I felt the eyes on me as I strode in, then I heard the whispers. I had power, you see, I have their attention when I give them none. I glance around the room attempting to find someone worth a morsel of my time, when I hear his voice.

‘Rhea Plinth’, that is a voice I would never tire of hearing.

‘Coriolanus Snow’ I acknowledge him, giving him a once over. The pinstripes of his dress shirt, dated, yet he made it look like an arising trend in the Capitol. A rose tucked into the formal vest. He was handsome indeed, a shame about the mismatched tesserae buttons. I placed my hand into his outstretched palm, watching him raise it to his lips as he leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it in greeting.

‘Rhea, can you just get it over and done with, Snow won the Plinth Prize, didn’t he?’ the bratty whine of Arachne Crane interrupted.

‘I can’t confirm anything’, power, ‘however, I can say things will get interesting this year.’ my voice almost sultry as I spoke directly to Coriolanus, not even bothering to turn to Arachne.

‘Now, Coriolanus, walk with me?’ a huff sounds from beside us as we turn to leave the hall.

‘Won’t people suspect something?’ I feel his breath on my neck as he hunches down to be level with my ear.

‘They’ll just assume I’m telling you about the prize’, I remain facing ahead, the doors to the adjoining hallway open. A rare smile hooks at the corners of my mouth as we round the corner, a pillar shielding us from the curious eyes of anyone passing.

‘Ah yes, Miss Plinth doing her duty as the liaison for the prestigious Plinth family.’ His mocking tone forces my eyes to roll, as we slowly step backwards. I may be the representative of the Plinth family for all intents and purposes, but with Coriolanus, I don’t have to be. See, I know who he really is, I know that his family has no money, I’ve seen the apartment they live in. Deep down, I know that all he sees in me is District, but I am the one thing that stands between him and the power he craves. That’s why we have this arrangement. I secure his future in the Capitol, and he makes sure that no one will ever see me as district again.

I’m drawn from my thoughts as my skin hits the cold wall behind me, a hand snaking its way around my waist. A hooked finger nudges my chin, lifting my gaze to meet the piercing blue eyes looking down at me. The intensity of his stare is almost intimidating. His grip changes as he strokes a fallen piece of hair behind my ear.

‘You look pretty like this,’ he murmurs, leaning in. His lips graze mine and I feel him inhale. Like he’s breathing in my surrender. I crash my lips against his, our noses bumping against each other, but neither of us minding. His lips are rough against mine, more aggressive. You look pretty like this. I look pretty when you think you have control over me.

I reach my hands around his neck, tangling my fingers into the blond curls. I tug once, he groans, I tug again. Who’s in control now, Coryo. He squeezes my waist and I sigh into the kiss. Our whole exchange is a power play. His tongue slips into my mouth as he reaches his hand lower, and lower. Maybe I could give in this once.

The echo of someone clearing their throat shatters the tension between us. Coriolanus takes a few instinctive steps back as I swing my head around to look at who dared interrupt us.

Dean Casca Highbottom.

‘Mr Snow, Miss Plinth. I assume you are heading into the hall to hear the announcement?’ He looked disgusted, disappointed.

‘Yes, of course, Dean Highbottom.’ Coriolanus responded instantly, leaving me standing with the Dean, marching back into the grand hall, his hands reaching up to fix his hair

‘They can’t make the announcement without me, Casca. You know that,’ I give him a knowing look before following Coriolanus’ lead. I look back over my shoulder to see the Dean opening a vial and consuming the contents.

I found Coriolanus standing with my brother and another girl from our class, Dovecote, Clemensia I believe. I give her a slight nod as a hello, not wanting to waste my breath on her. ‘Hello Sejanus, Coriolanus.’ glancing up at the boys, flashing a quick smirk at them.

‘Rhea, where were you?’ Sejanus queries, his brows furrowed, ‘you’re meant to be naming the winner.’

‘Brother mine, you worry too much. Besides, there's been a slight change in plan.’ This is power. Knowledge. Money.

‘Can everyone take their seats,’ the instructions come from one of the teachers at the Academy.

I leave the group and make my way up to the podium, passing Dean Highbottom on the way. The room silences as I ascend the stairs. As I glance down to the crowd, I catch Coriolanus’ eye, he looks hopeful. He needs this prize. To anyone else, it’s about the title. To him, this is everything.

‘My father, Strabo Plinth, has been gracious enough, over the years, to provide incentive to those at the Academy in the form of the Plinth Prize. An award bestowed upon the student who excels in every aspect of their education. An honour for any student who wins it.’ my voice strong, conductive, they are hanging on my every word. Power. I see Arachne glare over at the blond boy, they all think they know. They all think he has won. ‘This year, we want to make things harder, create more of a challenge. This year, myself and my mentor, Dr. Ghaul, want you. The top twenty-four. The elite. To become mentors yourselves.’ slight muttering begins to spread around the room. ‘This reaping day, you will be assigned tributes, you will guide them, make spectacles of them, and one of you. You will create a victor.’

The voices become louder, anger begins to bubble. Arachne is already complaining, Sejanus looks horrified. But Coriolanus, he is furious. And me, a large grin spreads its way across my face.

Now this. This is power.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #oc #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #lucy gray baird #tom blyth #coryo snow #tigris snow #the hunger games #capitol

74 notes · View notes

theosconfessions · 15 days

Note

It's 10+ years in your sims future. Where are they at that time compared to where they are right now in your story?

omg this was a good one. and ive been thinking about it since i seen it during work. thank you for sending this to me love. although i cannot say for certain this is how things will go down...i have some things in my head that would realistically happen.

Theos old now. hes not so great at keeping up with his health/medications as is. in ten years i see him rapidly declining [unless he starts taking care of himself cough cough which he needs to cough cough] he puts on a good show but that doesnt last for long. UNLESS. he makes a turn here.

I see Blake and Riv figuring their shit out and just being happy. Maybe having a few more kiddies besides Teddie. Honestly theyre so fucking cute together .and they never fight. which is refreshing bc man. some of my babes.

Scarlett ....... i guess we'll see who wins the bachelorette challenge haha! ..[and if she ends up pregnant by the end of it ] shes harder to read because im in the final four in my gameplay and its REALLY close. one place i know she wont be is with Sid haha! i do see her healing from that though.

Dustin.... is as hard to read as scarlett. and ill tell you why. its because of Theo and its because of Finnie. One thing he for sure will keep doing is his ghost hunts though. they make him so happy. he does want more kids but the twins are a lot to handle. so i dont know. maybe when theyre older.

Finnie is my new love but hes going globetrotting. HOWEVER. he wont be gone for long and will be back in theo and dustins hometown in no time. :)

Robin is my uncomplicated girlie. She sees all the shit that Riv and Blake went through and shes like ill have none of that. i want to see her happy without someone being a total punk ass to her.

marlee still wont leave jami alone and vice versa so i suspect thatll continue.

idk. this really gave me some thinking. thanks love !!

#asks #text #this gave me some thoughtss #thank you again love

26 notes · View notes

robinrites · 9 months

Text

Villain Whumpee story part 3

last part here!

By the time Hero reaches the hideout with Villain, Villain’s whole crew has already arrived, eager to see their boss again. Thankfully, Sidekick quickly shoos them off, knowing that their boss wouldn’t want the crew to see him in this state. Hero thanks him, then carries Villain into the med room, extremely thankful Villain happened to have Medic on staff before all this happened. He lays Villain down on the table, then his head darts up as the door opens and Sidekick and Medic walk in.

“Holy shit.” Sidekick mutters, taking in all the injuries on their boss.

Hero can’t blame them either. Villain seems much worse than the last time he saw them. Hero can’t help but internally curse himself for taking so long. One of Villain’s shoulders is clearly dislocated, bruises and cuts and burns cover every visible inch of Villain’s body. Thick lines of scarring surround his wrists, throat, and ankles from where the shackles rested. Villain’s hand shows signs of being broken and healing wrong, which means they’ll need to re-break it so it can heal properly. Villain shivers, despite his forehead burning up. As Medic carefully takes Villain’s shirt off, the room falls silent. Every rib is visible, one or two even appear broken. Hero takes the scraps left of Villain’s shirt from Medic to dispose of and can’t help but notice how thin it is. He must’ve been freezing. He shakes his head to bring himself back to focus and notices that Medic has already got an IV running into Villain’s arm.

“It’s just nutrients and water for now. I’ll probably add some sedatives once we really assess the damage.” Medic chimes in, noticing Hero staring at the IV.

Sidekick places their arm on Hero’s shoulder, “It’s not your fault y’know? You had no way of knowing.”

“Maybe if I had rescued him sooner-”

“Hero, that’s not going to make it better. You did what you could.” Sidekick rubs his shoulder gently, “We have him now, let’s make sure it stays that way okay?” Hero swallows the lump in his throat and then nods.

“How can I help?”

One and a half years ago

Villain rushes down the maintenance tunnels under the prison and can barely stifle a laugh. “Oh my gods, I can’t believe my plan actually worked.” He steals a quick glance behind him, just to make sure he really isn’t being followed before continuing forward. When he finally reaches the end of the tunnel, he finds a duffle bag stuffed with civilian clothes to help him blend in, which he quickly changes into before climbing the ladder out of the tunnels.

Villain pops his head up hesitantly, and upon seeing that no one is around, he slides the street cover out of the way and quickly climbs up, making sure he slides the cover back in place before moving to a busier street to try to blend in. Six blocks to the safehouse, and then I just have to wait for nightfall to get out of the city. How hard could this be? Ten minutes pass and Villain finds himself standing in front of his safehouse, or as he likes to call it, his “totally nondescript house in the ‘burbs’”. Villain walks around the side of the house, then picks up the rock his henchmen told him the key would be in.

Villain slides the key into the lock easily and smiles, he closes his eyes as he throws open the door, saying “Honey, I’m home!” In a mock suburban tone. When he’s not greeted by a gaggle of henchman, he opens his eyes. The keys fall, and his stomach drops as he makes eye contact with none other than Superhero. “Y-you.” Villain takes a step back, panic beginning to fill his whole body. Villain’s heart sinks as the realization that there’s no winning this fight settles into his mind. Six months in prison means little to no exercise, and since he hadn’t planned on staying in the safehouse more than a couple hours, all his gadgets are at his lair outside the city.

“Me.” Superhero says with a smile, stepping closer and closer to Villain until his back is pushed up against the door he’d just come through. Superhero grabs Villain by his chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “What, you didn’t think I’d just let you go, did you?”

Villain tries to push fake confidence, “Since when do you care about low lifes like me? I’m usually Hero’s problem…So maybe you should just let him deal with me.” Villain’s heart races, he’s heard from other villains about how Superhero fights with no holds barred. He takes out all his anger on who he’s fighting, that’s part of the reason Villain is glad Hero is his archnemesis, and not Superhero. Well, that and the fact that Villain might have the tiniest crush on Hero, but that’s an issue for later.

Superhero shakes his head, “Tsk, but then you’d just escape again. Don’t you get tired of the same old cat and mouse game, Villain?” Villain yanks his chin out of Superhero’s grasp and tries to shove him away. “Don’t try to fight me on this.” Superhero shoves his forearm against Villain’s throat, pinning him to the wall. “This should make you a little bit more agreeable.” Villain barely registers the glint of a needle before he feels a sharp prick in his neck. He tries to say anything in protest, but all that comes out is jumbled, until he feels darkness take over and his body hits the floor.

Villain wakes up in a cell, and if it wasn’t for the glaring lack of dull prison decorations, he thinks he would have forgotten what had happened hours (or days, it’s hard to tell when you’re unconscious) prior. In spite of feeling groggy as hell, Villain pushes his hands underneath him to maneuver himself into a seated position. It’s only after he’s done this that he notices the shackles wrapped around his wrists and ankles. Chains connect his wrists to each other, and the same for his ankles, with one additional chain on each “pair” leading to a bolt in the center. His head darts around, checking for any hidden camera or microphone in the room.

“Alright Superhero!” Villain shouts, his voice shaky from nerves. “You’ve got me! You can take me back to prison now, I won’t escape I promise!”

A door slides open, frightening Villain who flinches back briefly. Superhero steps in, towering over Villain who is doing his best to put on a brave face.

“Ah!” Superhero smiles, “Glad to see you’ve woken up. Now, I think I heard you say you wanted me to take you back to prison, is that correct?” Villain silently nods, holding his breath. “That’s what I thought. Let’s get one thing very clear, okay?” He crouches down to eye level with Villain, grabbing his chin, just like he had earlier, to assert control. “You don’t tell me what to do. I am in control here. You are just a sad, pathetic, little Villain who needs to be taught some manners. Understood?” Villain spits in his face, or at least tries to. A lack of water results in barely a spattering of spit, which angers Superhero nonetheless. He lets go of Villain’s chin and stands up. “So this is how we’re going to play this hm?”

He turns around and exits the room briefly. Villain scoots as far back as his chains allow and releases the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Before Villain even has a second to collect his thoughts, the door opens and allows Superhero back in, who is now holding some mysterious object behind his back.

“W-What’s that?” Villain’s heart races a bit as a sly smile builds on Superhero’s face.

“I had really hoped we could do this the easy way, Villain.” Superhero shakes his head, “But, I can already tell you are going to make this anything but easy. So instead, I get to try something I’ve always wanted to try.” He reveals a black bag, “Tell me, Villain, have you ever tried sensory deprivation on any of your victims?”

“Victims? What the hell do you mean? I never hurt a soul while I’m out-” Villain’s eyes widen as Superhero begins to pull items from the bag. He watches silently as a blindfold, headphones, and a gag are laid before him.

“Pick one.”

“What the fuck do you mean by ‘pick one’?” Villain’s back presses up against the wall.

“Fine. Guess we’re doing them all.” Superhero grabs the blindfold first and quickly ties it around Villain’s hair, purposefully making sure some of his hair is tied up in the knot.

“Wait! Wait!” Villain tries to beg quickly, “Superhero please don’t-” A metal gag covers his mouth and Villain can hear a lock turning on the back, he shakes his head, tears starting to form in his eyes as he shakes his head, trying to avoid having headphones put over his ears.

“Don’t get too comfortable now.” Villain can picture Superhero smirking as he says this, making Villain’s stomach turn. “I’ll be back to take these off when I decide you’ve earned it, understand?” When Villain does nothing to acknowledge him, Superhero smacks him across the face. “I said, understand?” Villain quickly nods, then he feels big headphones slide over his ears, blocking out any other words Superhero might say to him.

In the end, Superhero leaves him like that for a week. Halfway through the week, he takes the gag off, purely so he can hear Villain beg. Sometimes Villain calls out for Hero, which always makes Superhero laugh, especially knowing that Hero is looking for Villain. Sometimes he cries for his mom, and other times he begs Superhero to listen to him. If Villain could hear, all he would hear is Superhero laughing at him, mocking him. Maybe it was for the best that way.

#villain whumpee #villain whump #hero and villain #whump #sensory deprivation #whumpblr #hero x villain #whump prompt #flashback #hurt/comfort #hurt/aftermath #torture tw

83 notes · View notes

girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 4 months

Text

tuesday again 1/2/2024

it’s quite satisfying how the year started on a monday

listening

first song of the year: how could it be anything other than Sabata. this is the theme from the titular Sabata, i meant to pick the theme from Return of Sabata but im not mad about it.

reading

i read Tim Marchman’s Popping Tins newsletter (a newsletter about fish and seafood) less bc i enjoy locking Mack in the bathroom every time i want a tuna melt and more for the droll authorial voice. i have bought a tin of mackerel after reading some entries, and it was very good but much much richer than tuna.

What should I do with this can of krill meat?

after consulting the importer’s website:

This is accompanied by a photograph of the can featuring easily-discerned black eyes, which are nothing to be concerned about, according to the company that produces this can. The first question on its FAQ page is “What are the little black speckles in my can?” “No need to be concerned here!” the answer reads. “Your meat is not dirty, and you did not get a defected can. Our Antarctic Krill meat contains the most nutritious parts of the krill, which happen to include their eyes.

…

The risks here are clear: I could vomit when I open the can and see the nutritious black eyes staring at me; I could destroy the peace in my home by making it smell like sautéed and simmered krill; and/or I could ruin a perfectly delicious lunch by introducing nutritious eyes and hard bits of chitin.

i have no memory of how i found this newsletter.

i keep forgetting i have ten hoopla credits a month through my old library and i want to read more comics this year bc reading comics is fun. in the past in practice this means ive binged all ten credits over a weekend. this weekend i had time for exactly one.

The Riddler: Year One is an extremely direct tie-in to the movie and i think it’s neat they let the riddler’s actor paul dano go wild with his backstory and then turn it into a comic. it’s fun when actors get to do weird tie-in shit.

(non-sequential pages)

watching this forensic accountant’s brain crack and scramble like an egg as he struggles to really grasp the enormity of gotham corruption and why the city is such a dogshit miserable place to live in made me go “oh huh that was a pretty good writing decision in the movie”. not that the riddler was terribly stable to begin with but the despair and the unraveling were very effectively conveyed. this comic has a lot of fun with funky layouts (left) and an entire issue (right) is conspiracy board shit on top of accounting forms which is a neat artistic choice.

deeply depressing but an interesting new little window into the rpatz batman (god i hope we get more rpatz batman films) and fun to look at.

how i found this: trawling the popular comics page on hoopla

watching

this is the seventh year of starting a new-to-me classic black and white movie around 1030/11 PM New Year’s Eve and i am annoyed i didn’t like the movie that started this year but, according to the data, it’s been fifty-fifty so far.

previous years have featured: sunset boulevard, yojimbo, the thin man, it happened one night, bringing up baby, the big sleep, and now roman holiday (1953, dir. Wyler).

this is the platonic ideal of a classic movie. it’s not sterile but it’s so… unobjectionable. wholesome (derogatory) even. not particularly what i was looking for in a movie but, much like the gelato and champagne that pop up, it was kind of a sweet nothing. i don’t think anyone eats any real food this whole movie?

this is never a movie that feels rushed. it is two hours of watching beautiful people traipse around a beautiful city in beautiful edith head costumes. i would not say there is a lot of tension for the first hour and a half. however, imo, it does land its ending and for that i can forgive it a great deal. this is another beautiful movie that is simply not for me.

playing

have you ever wanted an open world rpg where you play as a shark? congrats, this was apparently free on epic a while back

youtube

Maneater has a tremendously fun prologue where you play as the soon-to-be-dead mother shark who is absolutely going to town on a crowded beach and destroying multiple spear-gun-wielding divers and multiple boats full of citizens exercising their second amendment rights. this prologue is an excellent choice by the game bc it locks the fun part (eating people) behind several hours of really grindy shit. i am not entertained by the grind of eating progressively larger muskellunge, avoiding alligators, and collecting license plates. the grind is EXCEPTIONALLY grindy, i put about three hours into it and have only gotten to level 5 (teen) and have only two mutations i can sink loot into (four types of loot gained from eating other fish. this is too many types imo). i am not anywhere near a recommended level to start fucking humans up. im also not super impressed with the open world aspects of it— there are not a lot of things to do, discover, or interact with in the first two areas.

this seems like a really fun game that clotheslined itself with a cripplingly slow upgrade cycle. im sure the mid and late game are hysterically fun, especially on stream. however i am not willing to put in the hours to get to the fun part when i could immediately be having fun in some other game.

making

a lot of profoundly uninteresting cleaning. after not being able to figure out why my office (where Phil [no longer in heat. for now] lives) still reeks of piss even after stealing a blacklight from a friend and cleaning with a blacklight, it is of course bc she has been pissing in secret places i didn’t think she could get to. upside down smile emoji. both the girls got their monthly flea goop yesterday and were deeply unhappy about it.

most of my plants died in the move and i am finally tackling the survivors. fan favorite giant snake plant (not pictured, tidied up and inside) did make it and pull through but is not happy about it. now that i have baby basil and baby dill sprouting in the kitchen i do need to do something with the balcony so they have somewhere to grow up study and strong.

also slammed that silly little blondeyes NFT thing up on the archive

#i do not know how to tag that fic snippet but eh #tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Youtube

20 notes · View notes

liveyourlastbreath · 2 years

Text

Neil Josten’s adventures in Exy as an (unwilling) Amputee

Okay so this is based on a drawing I did here

I may explore the idea of Andrew dealing with chronic pain later on, but right now I wanted to focus on the idea that at some point on the run, Nathan got too close and Neil lost his leg as a result. SO buhbuhbuh take it and run (Neil couldn’t do that for a while)

Also this is basically gonna be a retelling of AFTG, sticking very closly to the cannon events and dialogue with the difference of Neil missing his leg, just letting you all know!

Okay so how exactly did Neil ‘running is my only coping mechanism’ Josten loose his leg, from just below the knee, down?

his dad 100% chopped that thing off

Ive decided it happened roughly a month after they went on the run. Mary Janet Kim Laura Hatford Wesninski was still sloppy with a bleary-eyed ten-year old that still flinched when he fired a gun

Because somewhere between North Dakota and Saskatchewan, Nathan got close enough to be a problem. Huge problem actually, so huge that Nathanial Alex was now in Nathan’s hands and a note had been left with a time and a place

Now, I’m not defending Mary. She wasn’t a good person, she hurt Neil over and over again and shouldn’t really have been a mother in the first place. Like look me in the eyes and tell me she didn’t hesitate when she saw that note. Nathan logically would have already killed him and would just be waiting for Mary to come running and then would fall to his blades as well

But Nathan was smart because constant voicemails on a phone that should have been a burner had a confused and scared Neil asking for his mother

So she went, with some of her own people as backup (thanks Stuart)

And Nathan was there, with his cronies and slumped over the figure of what was supposed to be her son

Mary wasn’t a good person, she hurt neil and maybe shouldn’t have been a mother. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t care. Because as soon as she saw the bloody and strategically burned stump of what was supposed to be the growing leg of a child, she threw up

Needless to say they got away, barely.

Mary thinks a huge part of her son died that day

Because now Alex and Janet baker were a leg down and they both knew it

they ran faster, Alex learned to hate piggy backs

Stuart sent people to help, people Mary barely trusted, but people who helped Neil learn to stand and walk and run and hide on a barely held together scrap of metal that was supposed to be a leg.

Janet knew a part of her son died that day. Ten years old and his hands stopped shaking when he fired a gun, ice blue eyes were hidden behind green contacts sharped like his father’s.

She caught him staring at his leg more than once with a sick smile and beat it off of him.

Years later Neil Josten limped away from the sea on a cracked prosthetic and was determined to somehow keep going. His father’s stolen money and Stuarts contacts made it easy to get a leg, one that he could hide in public and run in the dark with.

And then the Foxes showed up

Because of course Neil still played, played better than any of Millport’s, played to his prosthetics advantages and disadvantages

Neil played like he had everything to lose because he had already lost part of that everything.

Now we get to the good stuff, what changes in the series now that Neil is an amputee?

There had never been someone in all of professional and college Exy that played on a prosthetic. You had to be completely put together because the game would tear you apart and leave your skin the only thing holding your bones together.

Wymack didn’t give a shit, and neither did Kevin it seemed

In fact, a fool could have even said Kevin was excited to see what Neil could do

Kevin had no idea who Neil was, the leg actually helped Neil in that regard

Also im making it cannon in this au when Andrew hits Neil with the racket, Neil hadn’t properly put his leg on in his panic so the thing goes one way and he goes another

Very funny image thank you very much

When Neil is figuring out the Andrew and Aaron switch, he uses the leg to his advantage. Because Nicky nor Aaron seem to know about it, and the shocked look on Aaron’s face later when he realizes Neil’s leg is in fact detachable prove his theory right.

Nicky is incredibly annoying about it, but luckily the black sock over the stump keeps any burn scars and questions at bay

Aaron does ask typical doctor questions out of morbid curiosity, all of which Neil ignores

That first practice, Neil opens his huge locker and freezes. Because amidst the sea of orange and white gear, a travel bag is folded with two, yeah, two, prosthetic legs

both are Transtibial, but while one has a simply pylon and foot, the other is a very expensive blade runner, with grips on the bottom to keep him from slipping and orange detailing that will help him match the team on court

Neil felt as though he may pass out, throw up, or punch Wymack in the face.

“Part of your contract, kid. We provide you with your equipment. All of it.” Wymack said after the pratice, after he ran laps and laps on his new leg and gave Kevin his game

When Neil blows his arms out against Andrew, Andrew stands on Neil’s leg as well as his racket because why not, its kinda bouncy

Now when the rest of the team comes back, that’s when things get good PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR

#aftg #neil josten #Andrew MinyarD #tfc #Andreil #the foxes #the foxhole court #all for the game #all for the gay #exy #exy is sexy #david wymack #kevin day #butcher of baltimore #neil is an amputee #neil josten can and will throw his leg at you #amputee!neil

400 notes · View notes

brostateexam · 9 months

Text

"I'm definitely not thinking about death any more!"

I was heading in to BART when I noticed that there was a moth in our car. For reasons I can't quite explain, I was consumed with the feeling that I had to get it out of the car to somewhere safe. My stop was going to put me (and maybe the moth, if I managed it) just three stories underground, though, which is not markedly better than being on a subway car. At least on the subway, there was a shot that it could get out in one of the open air stations and get to like some trees or something. I did nothing. I feel guilty about it.

II.

When I was making plum butter, I noticed there was a parakeet outside on my back steps. He was little and green, and he did not look thrilled to be out and about. I didn't have anything I could use to catch him, and even if I had, bringing a bird into a house with my cat who thinks killing birds ins her life's purpose (note: she has never actually done it, she just obviously really wants to) did not seem like a good option. I was trying to get him some bird seed and water when a loud noise caused him to fly off.

III.

I got a failed delivery notification for a package when I wasn't expecting anything to arrive and the pickup spot wasn't that far from my house, so I thought I'd just walk. It was in Eastmont, only 1.5 miles away. It was not, shall we say, the most pleasant walk, but it made me think about what it means when people say they hope neighborhoods "improve," because I found myself thinking that at times. What would it look like if the neighborhood improved for the people who live there now, instead of the neighborhood itself "improving" by accruing in value? I didn't have an answer for that, and I still don't, other than to say that I think sometimes people focus on neighborhood beautification projects because it's a lot easier to plant flowers in the medians than it is to solve systemic poverty.

IV.

I keep thinking about how my grandmother could have died of dehydration if the parking lot outside of her condo complex hadn't been due for repaving. I keep thinking about how if it won't be that, it will be something else, and it will be soon.

Every time I see my mom these days, I am starting to see how she has aged. She is in her seventies, and it's not like she is experiencing severe cognitive decline or anything. She's just not quite as energetic or as strong or as sharp as she was ten years ago. This is scary to me. I'm not really ready for a world where I take care of my mom, but I know it's coming. My sister has two kids and she and her husband are like inches away from divorcing (have been for the last 3-4 years), so she's kind of got enough going on. I just have to convert my garage into a place my mom could live if she needed a little help, and be ready.

VI.

That stupid quiz said that what I needed was to break a leg, and I completely understood it. What I need, it says, is to lose control and find out that things will be okay if I don't have it. That isn't how this is going to work, though. No one else is going to do all the shit for me that I have to do just to tread water. I can feel bad about that, I guess, but I don't see how that helps anything, and the thing about treading water is if you stop, you drown.

VII.

When I'm doing innocuous, banal stuff, I can't stop thinking about how everything is going to end. Age, decay, entropy, heat and smoke are consuming my thoughts.

#i don't know how to tag this but if you're worried about reading it: don't

39 notes · View notes

mugentakeda · 4 months

Note

oh sorry!! misinterpreted!! pls tell me abt his 500 mental illnesses and horrors please

NO UR FINE HEHEHDHSHD i figured id get an ask abt it at some point cus most people dont talk abt iroh in such deranged ways.... but . idk i really just sort of take literal facts abt iroh and stretch them so they become hcs??? and i also take little worldbuilding hcs ive seen other people have and adopt them because it adds spice.

this is gonna get long and crazy cus its just me musing about shitty iroh qualities ive noticed and trying to clown a bit in his pov so im gonna put it all under a cut. read it only if you dare thoughf

first of all. iroh is like a hypocrite among all hypocrites. its funny as it is pathetic. sometimes he knows it and tries to adjust his thinking because after all he DOES actively try to change himself for the better. sometimes he knows it and just doesnt care. maybe feels guilty for not caring, maybe he sometimes doesnt feel guilty. and sometimes he doesnt notice it at all because well. 6 years of changing yourself means what exactly to 30 something years of being one of the biggest baddest fn ghouls???? theres still a lot of unlearning to do, and he thinks he can be all hoity toity grand lotus. like boy bye. i think that if he knew he would work to submit to humility and i say that genuinely but sometimes old fire nation crown prince habits die hard. he wears silk robes under his armor baby. he was the spoiled rotten eldest son!!! theres a way you can balance iroh actively practicing humility but also him being patronizing and holier-than-thou.

iroh spent years and decades believing in the fire nations old cause. i bet yall anything the siege wasnt his only crime, just the biggest and most notorious. and on top of that hed believed that taking down ba sing se was his destiny from a vision that had been sent by the spirits. as if spirits gaf abt war shit humans do like boy youre just delusional and have always been delusional. but im sure that everyone took it seriously cus im p sure fn folk take spirit stuff seriously considering the fire lord is supposed to be like... a god human and his word is divine law or whatever idfk.

lu tens death was world shattering to iroh beyond belief if it managed to break that. iroh is a spiritual guy and takes spirits dead seriously, and if he believed him taking ba sing se was decreed by agni- well. look at how hard it was for zuko to give up those beliefs, and he was only sixteen and his track list is prob mickey mouse size compared to irohs. thats why lu ten being just a mentioned ghost character kinda bothers me cus i think if we knew more abt him itd put just how earth shattering his death was into more perspective. if he meant that much to iroh that it stopped iroh from caring when fn folks care so much about their cause, awful as it is, then he mustve been something special.

as for how iroh is with women i couldnt give you a good answer on that. the fn doesnt really seem to have roles like the nwt so i dont think its a common fn man thing to objectify women. which means thats just an iroh specific thing. which is insane??? but i watch one piece which has sanji in it so ive seen far worse but still. this isnt the objectify women olympics. i think as far as i can remember the only time iroh had been annoying and needed to be curb stomped about it was with june and then every other time it was reciprocated flirting with women his age but i digress. itd be pretty funny if lu tens birth in general almost became a scandal because iroh didnt know who the hell the mother was. This isnt one of his 500 mental illnesses though its just an annoying iroh quality ive noticed. Lets cut his dick off

NOW BACK TO MY FIRST POINT specifically ab him being a hypocrite and knowing it and feeling guilty but also sometimes not feeling guilty. i was talking abt him and azula. I have no idea if iroh knows how similar he and his niece are. frankly i believe itd be funny if he didnt because hes deluded as hell. i know people say oh iroh doesnt like azula bc she reminds him of himself WELL I THINK IROH DOESNT LIKE AZULA BECAUSE SHE REMINDS HIM OF OZAI. as if iroh would compare her to himself!! hes not that gd self aware. which comparing her to ozai is very unfair to azula and stupid i know. and humans do and think things that are very unfair and stupid and hurt the people around them. and its sad and it sucks but thats just how it is. him being the age that he is beefing with a teenager is a bad look and these bad looks are what make iroh whole and human and a shitty uncle. i dont hate him for it but i also think azula can rip his face off like a rabid chimpanzee for it if she felt that way

i think its like, he knows that azula is only 14 and is only doing what ozai teaches her and will just get the short end of the stick at the end of the day because thats just how ozai is, and thats when he feels guilty. but then shes manipulating and pulling zukos emotional strings like hes a puppet and shes rushing in with a smirk thats identical to ozais and shes rushing at zuko and thats when he stops feeling guilty and stops caring about her age and only cares about what she can do and what she will do and attacks her the same way hed attack anyone else. crushing her hand in his own and then kicking her in the face off war ships.

and then i think that guilt about her age and seeing it as just something that war does to even children eventually wears off entirely and all he can see when he looks at her is his own brother, and that means he needs to keep her far away from zuko no matter what. so yeah i think he really meant it when he said he thinks azula is crazy and that she needs to go down and no i dont think hed have too much of an issue with being the one to do that if it meant zukos safety. how does iroh feel like shit over lu ten dying but not over the idea of possibly killing his niece? couldnt tell you. i know a lot of people think its misogyny on irohs part and i mean. maybe?????? but i honestly dont think so. i think blaming it on misogyny actually makes their beef less intriguing, if anything. i think he just hates azula for azula.

and i dont even think comparing azula to ozai is something he only does with azula. i bet there are times where zuko shows his soft side and instead of being filled with love and admiration for his nephew who is compassionate despite it all, the first thing that comes to his head is look at that, look at how hes not entirely like ozai, theres still hope for an honorable and idealistic leader for our nation in the future. like i said before, old habits die hard. sometimes iroh Has to think like a general with his family for the wellbeing of literally everyone else on the planet but in moments like that, its just unfair to zuko as his nephew. thats something i dont think he even realizes is bad of him as an uncle- that hes made himself one of many people that only ever compare zuko to the shadows of his family members that loom over them.

which then moves us to the question of, do i think iroh projects his feelings about lu ten onto zuko. my answer? sort of yes?? but sort of no?? sort of no because zuko makes that impossible. even if i personally hc that there was a lot of lu ten that iroh didnt know, the lu ten that iroh knew couldnt be anymore different than zuko. so iroh cant use the same parenting techniques on zuko, he cant have the same quiet and casual moments with zuko, theres no teasing and banter and rough housing with zuko. lu ten had been self assured in the way a boy can be when he has a father that doesnt instill fear into him.

However comma. i think that paternal love and adoration is the same as the kind he had for lu ten. that protectiveness is the same. theres the amused affection at how similar lu ten and zukos stubborness is, how expressive their irritation is- the way they both flail their hands around and in the air whenever they get frustrated. their undying dedication, the honor and belief in justice. it took iroh forever to see the similarities, only until he got to know zuko a little better aboard the ship. its the same feelings and most of the time that new love makes iroh feel new.

but i also think that sometimes its agony. sometimes that desperation and mourning of lu ten, wishing there was something, anything, iroh could do or give to bring him back, manifests in the form of if zukos wellbeing isnt at a certain standard at all times im going to lose my mind. its one thing for zuko, who is young and hurting, to be codependent on iroh. its another for iroh to be codependent on zuko. he hopes zuko never stops thinking iroh is just a worrywart, that iroh is just kind of overbearing in the way annoying grown ups are, because if he ever stopped and saw the truth, the terrified desperation that iroh has to make sure zuko gets out of this year alive??? i dont even know what iroh would do if zuko died during the show if im being honest. thats something thats beyond my comprehension lol.

i think for a while irohs dedication is this gross mix of codependency onto zuko and zukos overall wellbeing, but also this weird convoluted mess of guilt over lu ten that he doesnt want to relive with his nephew so this is like.... something he thinks he owes zuko. which hurts and sucks but i think those two things can and do co exist. i dont think irohs love for zuko becomes entirely uneffected by lu ten and the loss of lu ten until like. literally book 3.

and im serious about that too i think the "owing zuko something" bit had been stronger in book 1 when iroh had been more apathetic but then in book 2 when iroh was literally Living in lu tens grave site and im pretty sure even losing sight of zuko in ba sing se would be enough to freak iroh out. irohs a general and a genius in strategy, but the instincts of a parent- a stressed one, because you cant tell me that just because iroh is endeared by the people of ba sing se that thats enough to qwell his fears- squashes all of that into dust. hes living in the grave site of his son. him and zuko could be recognized. his contacts warned him of the dai li and long feng. he only truly relaxes until zuko comes back through the door. he only truly sleeps well when he can feel his nephews bright and alive chi near him.

and i think that when he mourns lu ten and is scared for zukos life in the earth kingdom he hates himself more than hes ever hated himself ever since losing lu ten in the first place. the personal killer of so many earth kingdom sons, so many earth kingdom fathers lives that he personally ruined, and here he is, alive.

But then thats when rationality and humility leaves him and that royal selfishness shows itself- he knows hes the one at fault- the murderer of earth kingdom sons of all ages, daughters of all ages, elderly, mothers and fathers, babies and toddlers, homeless that dont have the means to scurry to the inner walls and hide in homes, family pets and family livestock, ash and blood in the water that they need to drink and cook the food they had left with, running out of supplies, running out of the medicine pregnant mothers need to ease their pain during labor, medicine needed to perform amputations from violent and infected burns, sickness thats bound to show while under siege and cut off from the rest of the world, entire bloodlines ended, brains and blood and body parts covered in ash and littering the streets that he now walks as a fugitive.

its all his fault and yet hes still so angry at himself and the world and his god damned family, he wants his god damned son back. he tries to be a good example for his nephew who has so much to learn still, the world depends on his nephew learning the things this uncle is trying to teach him-but hidden poorly under the mask of a wise and worldly old man, he wants to have his cake and eat it too. he tries so hard to change and be humble and think beyond his own interests the way a grand lotus ought to, but when the gap in his chest left behind by his son that he murdered, that wouldn't be dead if it werent for his sorry excuse of a father, starts to ache so tangibly he almost wants to keel over and vomit.

SO . yeah i think that theres a way to balance irohs many lovely facets. his calm and collected mentor side that is observant and patient with the angriest teenage boy on earth, his ridiculous side that does stupid annoying shit to spite and tease his nephew, his protective and nuturing side that adores his nephew and wants him to be happy, his snobby pretentious ex crown prince side that thinks achieving peak open mindedness is joining a secret society with dudes like pakku, his angry and hateful side that did so many cruel things yet learned what fire can really mean from the masters but is still selfish and also wants seconds out of his self made grief despite taking the first plates from others and cant even bring himself to care, his manipulative side that earned him a reputation in the snake nest that is definitely the fire nation nobility and court, his hypocritical side that hates azula for the same reasons he hates his brother and hates himself but somehow cant fathom correlating himself with his niece.

Hes the worst hes the best hes my favorite hes my worst enemy. when do you ever get a character as ill as iroh at irohs age??? its always the mentally ill 20 something anime dude. never the shitty old man. im so insane

#what can i do to convince you guys that on my top 5 list sokka actually places before iroh #Nothing most likely. whatever #i hope this whole essay is entirely nonsensical to you all #asks

16 notes · View notes

wildpeachfarm · 8 days

Note

on dttwt and their qrting and bringing attention to dream in situations where he might not be relevant i think tumblr (and reddit tbf) have to maybe consider a more empathetic outlook. dttwt watch dream get dragged into unnecessary conversations all the time, it’s literally constant, even without their input. ive had my twt acc for the dteam since 2020 and i’ve always subscribed to the liberal blocking policy so i have over 40k accounts blocked and i still see dranti hit tweets from time to time with thousands of likes. dttwt know they’ll never be taken seriously or in good faith by any of the other mcyt subsets who also like to talk shit about dteam all the time so really what honour or dignity are they holding on to by not saying anything in return. the negative consequences of stan acc #245 qrting a cc are a drop in the ocean compared to british cc #4879 making fun of dream/dream to their rabid audiences.

I see where you're coming from because I have had very similar experiences: been a fan on twitter since 2021, have tens of thousands of antis blocked, seen dream get abused by the internet for years at this point, etc.

but I also think people need to recognize where bringing him up will only reflect badly. Like a previous ask, I think that a lot of these people are like talking to a brick wall and sometimes you need to save your energy for the people who might be worth trying to change instead of going after internet randos who do not plan on ever listening.

Now, with actual CCs going after Dream that's a different story, but I think it really matters on if they are actually bringing Dream up. Because if they're not, sometimes its worse to drag him into situations where he is subjected to hate. It's almost like the opposite effect happens.

Also, a dttwt that is filled with nothing but people constantly responding to antis sounds like it would SUCK like at some point people need to think of how toxic the overall fandom environment would become if everyone responds to ever little hate comment because "our reputation already sucks" 😭

#ask #anon #anti drummyache tag

14 notes · View notes

atthebell · 5 months

Note

#The man talks about how hot everyone is all the time and yall are like whatttt no hes joking #no hes not!!!! hes attracted to men!!! this should not be surprising! #sorry to harp on this like all day but like. this is my biggest pet peeve of all time and ive had a shit fucking week #im allowed to lampoon people who think queerness is a little bubble you have to put a stamp on your forehead to enter

You're so right and I never get tired of seeing your takes on this. Even now I still see people on twt saying "it could be a joke so don't take it too seriously" 😭

yeah to me it's like. if someone repeatedly implies to you that they are queer (or outright says it!!! ffs!) then you ought to believe them. stop assuming straight is the default. don't be a freak about it and expect a bunch of shit from them, roier is pretty tight-lipped about super personal stuff, but don't just assume he can't be queer unless he makes a multiparagraph statement on twitter or a whole coming out video.

i took this out of another post because i didn't want to go on too much about it, but personally ive always been bothered by the importance placed on coming out as a one-time hugely revealing event. it has never been the case for me, i think it muddies the waters of how queerness actually operates, and in terms of treating public figures with respect while still acknowledging their identities, it feels really shitty to insist that a bisexual man isn't actually bisexual unless you have a laundry list of proof, at which point he will still be doubted because people hate bisexuals. if a guy repeatedly talks about being into men and women and that's not enough for you, i don't know what to tell you. go hang out with more bisexuals, i guess.

but yeah like. idk i don't love the pressure people put on coming out, especially for public figures. and considering how many bi men in particular in the public eye have to continuously come out/get rewritten as anything else, it's just frustrating. hank green has come out like ten times since 2013!!! and only this year did people actually believe it and talk about it! and bi women get treated as a fetish or as secretly straight, because people cannot imagine bisexuality as anything beyond a phase or a transition point between being straight and monosexually gay. in the words of lani kaʻahumanu, bisexual and feminist activist, "bisexual is a whole, fluid identity" ("The Bisexual Manifesto," Anything That Moves, 1990). [if you're interested, you can find archives of Anything That Moves here]

#asks #anons #sorry had to go full bisexual #people dont see how theyre replicating harmful rhetoric when they pull this shit

14 notes · View notes

sapphicslut777 · 4 months

Text

so idk if this is a running theory, but i’ve never seen this mentioned in the stranger things sphere…

i think that henry/vecna/one is the biological father of all of the children in hawkins lab.

from what i understand, a lot of time went by after henry was captured by doctor brenner. as we are currently in 1986 with the start of the end of the world 😅 and with ‘83 being the year when will went missing (the day in which the upside down is stuck)… then what happened between 1959 (henry’s capture) and 1979 (in hawkins lab, when we clearly see children/experiments 2-12 (or 17??) have been acquired somehow)???

in the ‘79 hawkins lab we see many numbered children with abilities being taken care of by an extensive staff, including one, who’s powers have been kept at bay by the soteria doctor brenner implanted in his neck. by this time 20 yrs have passed and surely henry is in his 30s by now. the fact that we didn’t see all of that missing time, makes me think it’s important.

i know that it’s been explained in the papers, and understood by becky (terry ives’ sister) as well as hopper, that brenner was using lsd and shit like mk ultra to create/obtain people with powers. but those never included experiments on children. the newspaper described adults with the drug experiments. the way that becky describes terry’s experience makes us think that she was the only one this happened to… “she didn’t know she was pregnant at the time” she says 😳

it is also unclear how or when henry got his psychic abilities. and doctor brenner (who has been studying henry since he was a child—under the care of his own parents) has always wanted to not only study, but replicate, henry’s powers… so if he had done all of the experimenting that he could on one child and couldn’t determine how to recreate the results,,, i don’t think it would be above brenner to craft an entirely detailed plan on how to breed the children himself, using henry’s genetic material to get the powers.

because in ‘79 the oldest child (two) seems to be about 14-16 years old, this would make him born in about ‘63-‘65 (henry turned 18 in ‘65)… i just think brenner is the type to create a whole operation. we’ve seen the way that he has his lab staffed in ‘83 and even in ‘86 (with NINA). he is neat and orderly and checks all of the boxes and possibilities. i think if he had years of planning he could definitely come up with a system of not being caught.

the lsd experimentation was probably an entire ruse to acquire people (women) who would want to volunteer. these people (women) who weren’t afraid to take drugs or be closely monitored or experimented on… fuck in his own sick and twisted mind he probably saw it as them consenting???

all i’m saying is, when we see the clips of eleven (jane) being taken from terry, it’s brenner himself. he’s running the whole operation. and when we see the lab in ‘79 there are tens of kids there (all in varying and descending ages). which makes me think that he takes a baby, waits a little bit, then pops in another one when the time is right 😨🫢😬

all i’m saying is,,,, it would make a lot of sense that brenner would want to use the soteria on henry and have him help with the training and the monitoring of the other children’s abilities (who knows henry’s powers better than himself??). it would make sense as to why one thought he had “the right” to destroy all of (his and) brenner’s work. their experiments. their children. this would explain why henry seems to latch onto eleven so easily, letting her know how he harnesses his power (something that would be very personal to him). it would make sense why eleven and brenner are the only ones left in the lab (besides staff) in ‘83. why brenner is so desperately using el to get to the upside down and find henry. why wouldn’t brenner make more experiments? more children??

all!! i’m!!! saying!!!! is!!!!!!!!! it would make the whole “papa” and daddy issues arc a Hell of A Lot Stronger, if henry was watching these (his) children and waiting for the right one (eleven/jane) to trust to carry down the family legacy and the powers. henry talks to young el like “i wanted us to join forces”… what if he sees her as his true daughter??? he sees that she’s powerful enough to carry out his escape plan. and it’s obvious that he’s so betrayed by eleven when she rejects his offer and banishes him. he wants to rebuild the entire world with her for fucks sake!!! talk about some toxic daddy-daughter shit!!

in henry’s monologue to el in the lab in ‘79 he says “papa wanted to recreate me.. he started a program. and soon, others were born. you were born. and i’m so glad you were, eleven.” this theory would also explain the reason he thinks the children he killed are not dead. he claims that they’re still with him. he points to his mind. “in here”.

he also says “to your papa, you are nothing but a lab rat, something to be tamed.. but the opposite is true”. he explains that eleven is better than “they are” (normal humans i suppose?? or simply everyone else??). he claims that she is superior… why? bc he is superior. henry thinks he is the greatest and most powerful, all-knowing being in the universe. and to have a daughter to watch over, that posses the same ultimate power and can finally understand him… i think that’s all henry’s ever wanted.. he’s always felt disconnected and ostracized by his family. and even his “second family” (papa and the other children). but eleven reminds him of himself. he says so throughout the entire 4th season.

this daddy-daughter relationship between henry/one and jane/eleven would also hit hard for el’s storyline, which has been riddled with father figures this whole time…. brenner was “papa”, hopper was next (also taken away from her by the upside down/vecna/henry/one), then brenner again, and even doctor owens for a time. for her to then have to come to terms with henry being her biological father would be the final evil cherry on top of this season finale. 🍨🍒

all throughout the series, we’ve been being tossed back and forth between these psychic/supernatural/other-worldly things being the villain AND humans and their inherently twisted complications and multitudes being the villain. i wouldn’t be surprised if the ending, and all that’s revealed in season 5, was to wrap all of that up into a double whammy bow. of like,,, yea isnt it fucked up that humans and their desires made these decisions to create these things, these “monsters”, these powerful beings…

but the human brain is the biggest monster of them all. we’re all so fucked up. and we always have been. and we always will be.

but!! the power of fucked up can always be faught with the power of love and happiness and cherishing others and actually caring for one another….

so humanness has a cure?

18 notes · View notes

thegeminisage · 19 days

Note

as someone who wasn't around in 2014....can you tell me what it was like? (stucky) can you give me a taste of the gardens of babylon etc

what was it like...this is such a fun question i want you to know i gave serious thought to my answer and also discussed it at length with my 2014 friend last night and i know already it's gonna be so long. sorry that i answered your ask at fuck o clock in the morning i am scheduling it to go up later and also at the time you sent the ask in to make sure you see it

ok so like. i mean, you're on the fandom website, right, so i assume youve been in fandoms. idk if youve ever been in a really, REALLY big fandom, at the same time that said fandom was also producing content (even if the source material was not). think d*stiel post nov 5, or undert*le circa late 2015/early 2016, or z*lda after totk came out, or h*rry p*tter as the seventh book was being released. (i'm censoring to avoid a false positive of anybody's blacklist except in the case of the last one, which i am censoring out of <3 disrespect.) like there's something REALLY luxurious about being in ANY large and active fandom and it's mostly the power of crowdsourcing. st*r tr*k 2009's tarsus iv headcanons. the storm trooper lore re: the f*rce awakens before the second two movies came out. everyone just kind of agreeing that dean w*nchester was a teenage hooker. you know?

like, that's "just fanon," sure, but part of the beauty of it is that no one person makes up fanon, we all gather in the biggest writing group in the world and collectively go insane and bat ideas back and forth. there are a hundred THOUSAND fics about bucky barnes on ao3 and that's just the people who were writing, not even counting artists and gifmakers and meta-writers and people who just reblog stuff. i can't possibly begin to put an accurate number to how many people are in any given fandom at any given time, but imagine (on the low end, i'm sure) there are THOUSANDS, perhaps tens of thousands, of people going nuts about stevebucky at all times. tens of THOUSANDS people doing "yes and" with each other on the internet 24 hours a day seven days a week. it's just like being in any fandom, you log on to your dash and see what the mewchies posted while you were gone, but in a fandom so huge and so active you were getting bombarded with idea after idea after idea every single second, so if you don't like one you're spoiled for choice in what you engage with next. it didn't even matter that cap3 was two years away or that it sucked when it finally got here because we collectively wrote cap3 a million times over. like, genuinely, it was a mass creative exercise. it's the biggest writing group in the world. for better or worse, we were shaping our own version of that universe, without any input from or regard to the people who actually created the characters and movie, in a way that compelled most strongly to our own tastes and demographic.

what made this particular movie/fandom special though was a few things. firstly i still genuinely believe it was ahead of its time...marvel shit pre disney was allowed to be political in ways it is ABSOLUTELY not now. like, cap2 could say "the government is secretly full of nazis and they all need to burn" in 2014 two years before the 2016 election and 7 years before jan 6. like you just couldn't say that now. "war bad" is an oldie but goodie, but "our entire government is corrupt and needs to be torn into flaming pieces and cast into the potomac" is um. pretty radical. so is, by the way, "men as victims" and "men having emotions" etcetc. like, not in fandom, fandom all but invented that shit, but as far as dumb superhero movies go. i can't tell you the number of metas i read AND WROTE discussing steve rogers and masculinity and how all that was portrayed, intentionally or not, in that fucking film. i had entire separate universes built up in my head for steve who was born a cis girl and steve who decided later in life that "nonbinary" or "trans woman" was a better fit and then steve who was born as a cis boy and remained a man his whole life but felt weird and different ways about being queer which clashed with the weird and different ways BARNES felt about being queer. i'm not saying the film (or the fandom! good lord) was perfect, it was a product of its time, but it was also WAY ahead of its time too. it was weird to expect the next film to come out and actually, like, be good. it wasnt, but we fully believed it would be and that wasn't delusional behavior because the last one had been. i would never have that kind of faith in a marvel project now because they've been bought by disney.

oh yeah and that's the other thing too like. speaking of queer people. gay marriage wasn't legal in the US on a federal level until 2015, and you couldn't just flip on your TV and see them whenever you wanted. ten years doesn't seem like that long ago in the grand scheme of things but like, we lived on glee and cw/mtv queerbait (disclaimer that i personally only participated in cw queerbait) and that was it. we had crumbs. and like when people write gay characters theyre Just Gay, but if you decide to be crazy stupid in a slash fandom you can decide these layered characters are gay and that's even better rep than um whatever was going on in other pieces of media. these guys are both so lonely and out of step with time and lack other people with "shared life experiences" (girl what the hell was that) and their connection w each other keeps them afloat in a world that doesn't want them so like of COURSE it seems like it's supposed to be romantic. and like, i could and did make myself and my tumblr buds crrrazy (and got made crazy by them) thinking about:

how steve's size when small and again when big interacted w his gender identity and his sexuality and how that sexuality manifested. barnes's identity As A Man hinging on his ability to go to war for his country bc Thats What Men Did but now he's no longer fit because theres worms in his brain. loss of bodily autonomy which usually happens to women and natasha being later in that journey than steve and bucky are and so close to being at peace with it but not there yet. stigmatization of seeking treatment for mental health issues lessened by the presence of sam who could have been a Macho Tough Guy but actually gives off strong Talk About Our Feelings And Be Soft vibes. don't even get me started on the relationship (predatory) between steve and rumlow and how it parallels the one between barnes and pierce (and if any of you motherfuckers BREATHE a word of that h*dra tr*sh p*rty shit in my direction i will END you) and the stigma that comes from being preyed on when vulnerable As Men. steve's depression and ptsd and him getting triggered by, yes, the fucking ALS ice bucket challenge. the collective belief that he was conscious when he was frozen even though nobody said that so that he and barnes could have that in common too. the headcanon about barnes having roma heritage - shoutout to not easily conquered my beloved, and the 14k smut coda i wrote for it✌ speaking of smut, i would be remiss also not to mention there was a STRONG element of collective lust involved. i'm immune to 99% of it bc im ace but the winter soldier was uh. VERY graceful. you know? i didn't write 14k of porn because i was uncompelled. we were on one. we went fucking crazy. fandom in general but especially big fandoms have a kind of nonstop endless well of creative energy born from obsession that is the absolute envy of people like my mortal enemy grrm. we NEVER quit.

also, HISTORY (and other vaguely educational subjects). we were all so desperate to know how steve and bucky would have lived in the years we couldn't see them it sparked a sitewide interest in 1940s american history. there was a thing about bananas tasting different now because of a plague. m&ms being invented as wartime candy. stuff about how shoebox apartments looked and how rations worked. 1940s recipes and radio shows. the 1940s queer movement and how it interacted with ballroom dancing and private drag get-togethers. how amputations work and how prosthetic limbs work in real life so we could extrapolate it to fantasy. how to hand-draw that fucking arm in photoshop. why soldiers are trained to say their serial numbers when captured. what ww2 was like. what dog tags are for. what did they get in the ration packs. what brand of cigarettes did they smoke. what brand (and i am being so serious, i STILL own a tube) of LIPSTICK did peggy carter use. caloric intake of someone with a 4x speed metabolism and how much famine peanut butter he'd need to eat daily to keep from starving to death. oppression of irish immigrants and their children/grandchildren back in the 1940s. the difference between conservatives and fascists, back when there was a difference. what activities generally took place on these mysterious but ever-present new york city docks. just exactly HOW many terrible movies and tv shows has sebastian stan been in ranked by his resemblance to james buchanan barnes in each one. (i personally went through his entire imdb list at the time and then made a venn diagram.) electroswing! teachers and professors would have killed for their classes to have the kind of enthusiasm a bunch of mentally ill teenagers and 20-somethings on tunglr dot edu were showing about this one very specific set of subjects. this film also sparked my love of fight scenes. if you've read this fic or this fic and liked the Big Fight Scenes in them, you can thank cap2 for leading me down that path.

and then yes there was also discourse. my personal most hated thing was the above mentioned h*dra tr*sh p*rty (DO NOT GOOGLE THAT, i will just tell you it's nazi rape porn🤢 and i hope everyone involved is having a bad day today) and also the fact that SOME FUCKING PEOPLE can't understand "don't be shitheads about a fanfic where the author can see you doing it." but then ofc people were also sexist about nat and racist about sam and minimalizing those guys (and every other character besides tony really but sometimes him too) for the two white male leads was a whole thing. and on the funnier side of things you had (justifiably, i suppose) bitter st*ny fans who HATED what those two got in avengers and got real mad when stucky started outpacing them on ao3. and people complaining about the characters being too uwu soft. and then other people arguing whether or not barnes counted as disabled when he was missing a Whole arm. and THEN discourse about was it ethical to remove the arm and build him a new one ESPECIALLY without his consent (if people don't know they're being ableist in their fanfics hypothetically is it still ok to kill them with hammers?) and why was tony doing it if that guy killed his parents and is it ok that we keep making tony not that mad about his dead parents is it not enough that barnes stole his limelight as the guy who gets shipped with steve but what if all three of them fucked but can you really fuck the guy who offed your folks but ACTUALLY isn't it cringe to like tony anyway since RDJ and gwenyth paltrow are bad people and who says chris evans are sebastian stan are such good people etcetcetc. and let us not even get started on the plausibility of the avengers tower fanon after age of ultron came out and it turns out nobody became friends and they all still hated and mistrusted each other. and whether or not the avengers could be considered found family if the other characters were constantly getting shafted into being barnes's little support animals. and then ofc every once in awhile one of the actors of people involved creatively would say something ranging from mildly controversial to absolutely horrible on the internet and we'd all fight about THAT for awhile like a dog with a bone. i mean. typical infighting of any fandom tbh.

but i was very happy. it was all the most enormous thought experiment and creative endeavor (and semi-educational adventure??) that we all participated in daily for like two-ish years without stopping ever. i loved doing it. AND, when you click with a piece of media like that, you also click with other people who clicked with that same piece of media, so in addition to the sheer level of dopamine going into my brain at all times i also formed decade-long friendships that will certainly last the entirety of my lifetime, and when we're in our 90s in nursing homes i will be able to say, "we are friends because i wrote 14k of smut for your fanfic" or "we are friends because i couldn't get enough of your gifsets" or whatever because you know, we quite literally went to stucky together.

#liz answers asks #anonymous #personal

13 notes · View notes