#my conclusion: not enough diversity in this place

[writerfae]

I’m currently doing God’s work (labeling LGBT books in my library)

#my conclusion: not enough diversity in this place #they should give me all their money to buy better books for us #I should make clear to those who don’t know that I work at a library and am not randomly marking books in a local library without permissio #writer speaks

[circeius-invidioso]

I do not get why the Red Corsairs are not a popular choice.

Like.

Like here is the elevator pitch for the warband and then we can come to some justified conclusion.

What isn't there to love?

You want me to turn into an infomencial and make a top 3 reasons why the Red Corsairs are great?

Cause I can.

And I will.

The Diverse Working Enviroment

Here in the Red Corsairs we might have started as Ultramarines but the barrier for entry is on the floor. So anyone can join.

You are Night Lord with a bad rep and no ship.

Buckle up we got you covered.

You are a Fallen and have 20 Dark Angels all up in yo business? Trying to shoot down the boss babe you are?

Fear not, or in our case. Know no Fear. We are strapped and don't get clapped.

You are a traitor that likes their Legion but sadly you got in our way?

Tough luck buddy, you will join or die and your geene seed will join our cause. Nothing personal battle brother. Just business as usual.

Everyone is welcome as long as they follow Huron's guidelines and don't aggitate the topless sweaty Khorne worshipping Ultramarines in the basement.

Sustainability

Unlike the corrupt Imperium of man and the corpse Emperor our leader is powered by miracles (which is trully a miracle how he survived but that on the next section), and we use 0 psyckers to power our crap.

Our carbon footprint is also minimum as we use salvaged goods and don't indulge in toxic industries that destroy worlds.

The Red Corsair base of operation is in the Eye of Terror and from there we expand our scope. A place greatly known for its constant shifts, and horrible conditions but the tan our serfs have are spectacullar from all that cosmic radiation.

Finally we are commited to recycling. As in we take from our victims benefactors and put those stolen goods to some great use. Nothing goes to waste, neither mortal, nor static object. If something is not nailed on the floor we will take it.

In fact we might take the floor too and the nails used to set it in place.

Nothing goes to waste!

Unmatched Leadership

Last, but certainly not least.

The man.

The myth.

The Legend.

Huron Blackheart.

Aka Lufgt Huron.

Aka what would happen if we gave a compressed Guilliman a daemonic familiar and left him to ferment in a warp storm.

Not only the name is so edgy you might cut yourself by saying it out loud. But also it's complex enough that if you say it quickly three times without twisting your tongue theres is a chance furniture might start levitating.

The man has put his Ultramarine brain to use and amased enough influence and power to put the Black Legion to shame.

Huron went from 0 to 100 in no time, he is a self made Warmaster. With no daddy issues or troubles in the world, he goes into battle blasting Alestorm in the voxxcasters.

He does not care.

He probably wears this when he wants to relax.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

He has a biker gang specifically organized to hunt down those who have betrayed him.

They slap those things on their armors not for the usual biker reason

(which fun fact the meaning is, 99% of the bikers are law-abiding, where the 1% are not. That's where the 1% comes from. The more you know 🌈)

no they wear that 1% because that's how high are your chances of escaping from them are.

Is that a bit extreme?

Yes.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

The dude once gathered his buddies and decided...

to you know. Have a casual outing. Nothing too serious, it was a sunday afteral.

So they decided on.

Kidnapping Guilliman.

Which they almost did if not for a Fallen of all people getting in the way.

But still.

The mad lad took Macragge's Honour and went on a joyride/ mini civil war.

Who in the galaxy can turn and say.

Yeah, I stole Macragge's Honour, almost captured my old Primarch. Told a daemon prince they are irrelevant on my way there. Anyway after crushing a fool who thought he could take my crown as king of the space pirates, I went to the home planet of the White Scars and kidnapped and tortured their Chapter Master. What did you do this week? 💅

Who wouldn't want to be a part of that?

You tell me I can be an immortal, gorgeous chaos Ultramarine goth boy going on pirate adventures across the galaxy?

Where do I sign up?

I don't need ink for a signature.

I will use my own blood.

#warhammer #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #wh40k #shitpost #red corsairs #chaos ultramarines #chaos space marines #games workshop #black library #huron is the chaos ultramarines representation we deserve

[beatrice-otter]

completely unsurprising to see you out here whipping up a harassment committee to try and force the otw to let you harass people on AO3 into deleting fics for ships you don't like. don't you have anything better to do, you ridiculous anti?

This is the sort of thing you get as a white person when you try and point out racism in fandom. Imagine how much worse it is for people of color, especially Black people.

But also, let's note the irony here.

There is a long and extremely well-documented pattern of racism in fandom, and fans of color being harassed by white fans, that goes back ... pretty much as long as fandom has existed. For a lot of fans of color, they have exactly two choices: they can swallow down all the racism (from microaggressions to major in-your-face aggression) and allow it to continue ... or they can point it out as a problem. In which case white supremacists in fandom will try to destroy their lives for daring to challenge them.

AO3 is not the primary place where such harassment happens (because communication between people is so limited), but it does happen, and AO3 has historically been really really bad about dealing with such harassment when it gets pointed out to them. AO3 was founded by a majority-white group, and they had a massive blind spot about fandom racism. AO3 has historically not made any distinction between "this fic is about a harmless kink that someone got offended by, but this other fic is active and targeted harassment designed to hurt people." These two things are not the same, and shouldn't be treated the same.

In 2020, AO3 admitted that they had a problem, and announced that they were going to change some things to do better. Those things included practical tools like muting and blocking (which they have since rolled out the first stages of). The promised changes also included things like hiring a diversity consultant to help them figure out what of their organizational culture and policies should change, and looking at the Terms of Service and abuse policies to see what could/should be changed.

AO3 put out the practical tools, but has not addressed any of the other things they admitted were wrong.

A bunch of people think that AO3 should keep their word and want to know what they've done in the last three years. Notably, that is the extent of the pressure. @end-otw-racism has explicitly said multiple times that they are not advocating for any specific policy, whether censorship or banning people from AO3 or any other, they just want to know what AO3 has spent the last three years doing, and what conclusions they've drawn, and what their plans might be going forward.

I reblogged their posts a couple of times, and made one (1) post that had a summary of why this is an issue, with links to a couple of other people who had done much deeper dives into the issue of fandom racism and racism on AO3 specifically. In that post, one person was referenced (but not named) with a link to some discussion of things that they had done. This person was referenced solely as an example of why the policies and procedures needed to be looked at, because they were in charge when those policies got written. I included no details about them or what they had done, and certainly nothing saying people should go harass them; I just linked to enough information for people to decide for themselves if that was a person whose judgment they trusted to come up with fair policies. And said, "hey, it's messed up that people get harassed over this, if fandom were less racist and if AO3 had better abuse policies, fewer people would be harassed."

You come into my inbox on anon to harass me with all sorts of blatantly and obviously untrue things (including that I'm trying to stir up a hate mob to harass people), for daring to say "hey, there's a racism problem, we should do something about that."

Thank you for proving my point! My entire point was that there is a racism problem in fandom, and racists harass people who dare to talk about it, and you showed up immediately to harass me!

If anybody is wondering why the lovely folks behind @end-otw-racism haven't linked their fannish pseuds to the blog pushing for accountability, nonny here is why. If one post brings people out of the woodwork like this, imagine what organizing the effort would do.

But also, if you're wondering "well, nonny has a point, why did you link to a place where someone could learn the name of the person you're accusing of racism if you didn't want to harass them?" here's why:

When people in fandom talk about racism and don't specifically name names and link to publicly available facts, there is a wave of people who don't believe, many publicly. "If that were true, I would have seen it!" (you didn't want to see it and/or your whiteness insulated you from it.) "If that were true, they wouldn't have vagueblogged, they'd have named names!" And then people harass you for stirring up trouble when there's no proof of anything wrong. If, on the other hand, you do name names and link to publicly available facts, you get a wave of people like nonny here claiming that pointing out racism is the same as harassing the people who said/did the racist thing. There is nothing you can do (short of being silent) that will prevent people from harassing you. But if you do name names and post links, then at least some of the people who follow those links will go "hey, you're right, that is messed up."

On the subject of censorship, it's important to remember that there's a difference between free speech (which usually doesn't harm actual people or incite harm and should be protected even if you don't like it or find it gross) and hate speech (which is harmful to actual real people and thus should not always automatically be protected). The people most invested in calling it censorship when you reject/limit hate speech, and making hate speech have exactly the same protections as other expressions of free speech which do no harm, are racists and fascists.

But I also want to talk about the irony of you calling me an anti. Because that's the thing that tipped your harassment attempt from annoying to funny (as someone who rarely receives hate).

Antis are "anti-shippers," (aka "feelings yakuzas"). When they see something they don't like in fandom, they want to stop it and drive the people out of fandom who do it. But they know that if they name accurately the thing they don't like, the vast majority of people will not support them. Usually because the thing in question is harmless. So in order to get people on their side, they do two things. First, they find a way to twist the thing they don't like until they can conflate it with something that is harmful (like pedophilia). Second, they take that harmful thing and accuse anybody who disagrees with them of being that thing. So, if you don't agree that shipping a 17 year old and an 18 year old is wrong, you're a pedophile, and they are perfectly justified in harassing you and spreading lies about you because they are saving children from a pedophile.

As for whether I am an anti, a cursory search through my blog will reveal regular and frequent reblogs of stuff about how absurd and harmful anti rhetoric is, and why censorship is bad. And why people can ship whatever they want regardless of whether I personally like it.

You saw something you didn't like (a request for accountability for how AO3 is working towards anti-racist policies). You knew that if you honestly named what I was doing, people would not agree with you that it was bad. So you twisted that into something else that is harmful (a call for harassment and censorship of people who shipped things I don't like and being an anti). Then you used that as an excuse to harass me.

It is exactly the anti playbook. Step By Step.

You, kiddo, are the one using anti tactics.

#fandom racism #racism

[inkybloom-luv]

"But you're still pretty..!"

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Somehow I am still alive!! Uhm!! I tried my best for this one! @midnightmah07 requested this randomly on a post so I hope you like it!! Took a while but I think I did well! Enjoy! And for anyone else reading this, requests are still open please check my rules for more info! All my writing works can be found under the "Inky's works" tag if you would like to check them out! Please tell me if I missed a tag susbsjsnsb

Request: Leona, Ruggie and Kalim with a S/O who has pimples

Tw; none that I'm aware of! Mention of bullying (maybe?)

They/them pronouns used!

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Leona Kingscholar

When Leona made (Name) play his pillow for a nap he didn’t sign up for them not paying attention to him at all. Sure he didn’t outright tell them that was what he wanted but should that not be a given so he could relax with them in peace? He watched them through barely opened eyes as the used their phone camera to inspect their face, or more specifically their pimples, he guessed. He let his mind wander for possible reasons, it didn’t take him long to come to the conclusion that perhaps (Name) was insecure. So now he had to think of a way to start working on the issue, to get the insecurity to go away, even if it was only temporary. They were laying on soft earth at the moment and it was calm enough that (Name)‘s guard was down so.. flick!

With a barely there thump the phone landed on the floor, not the slightest bit of damage on it. In barely a moment Leona pulled them down with him, right to his chest, with no chance of escaping.

“Stop looking at yourself like that, you’ll turn into that skincare obsessed Blondie. Besides, there’s nothing to stress over in the first place herbivore. Those things will go away, I’ve seen them enough on those idiots (read; Savanaclaw students) during training. Don’t pick and you’ll be fine.”, he said and paused, taking a deep breath and getting comfortable before continuing “Anyway, you don’t need to think about that right now, considering you should have been busy being a pillow instead, so you have to make up for that now..!” And with that he fell asleep again, well, he pretended to, just to see if his diversion worked and yes, it seemed to work just fine. He stayed awake a little longer.. but once they were napping, he slept a bit too.

Kalim Al-Asim

“Ooooo! What are you looking at? Did you try something new with makeup?” Kalim asked as he came over to their desk in class, wondering why (Name) was inspecting their face, only for them to shake their head no. “You didn’t? Is something about your face bothering you then?” He asked, which was correct. They didn’t exactly want to admit to Kalim that they were feeling insecure about their pimples, especially since there were one or two Pomefiore students eyeing them that day. Still, Kalim was not someone you could just lie to that easily, especially since he already caught them inspecting their face for the nth time that day. So, (Name) decided, they had to be honest. They should be honest, Kalim did not deserve to be lied to anyway. So they told him that they were feeling bad about their pimples and that said pimples were bothering them. It took him a moment to realise what they meant because really he couldn’t think of a reason that they should be insecure. Sure the Pomefiore students really sucked but they didn’t know (Name)! Therefore they were not entitled to have an opinion about their looks!

He furrowed his brows and pouted at (Name).

“Why are they a problem? I don’t get it.. you look pretty anyway!” And after that, he stayed silent. That is until he got an idea.

“I know! How about we get a facial together?? I can ask Vil for recommendations on Salons and we can have a spa date! I heard facials can help with skin problems so if you really want to get rid of them, let’s at least make it a fun date!” Kalim suggested, kissing their forehead immediately after and giving them a hug. Yes, a date like that would surely be wonderful.

Ruggie Bucchi

Silence followed their statement. (Name) was upset that day and when their boyfriend Ruggie noticed and asked, albeit in his usual teasing tone and followed by his signature giggle. Of course once he realised that maybe it was a bit more serious than that he once again repeated his question but more serious this time.

“I mean.. I guess my pimples are really bothering me lately because they’re just so.. you see them yourself, you get it, right?” (Name) said, which Ruggie nodded at, raising a hand to his chin to think.

“Well.. don’t see why they bother ya, cause you’re still good looking with or without them.. but my Grandma’s got a face-mask recipe somewhere, my mom had bad skin growing up I’m told.. won’t be fancy but if you like, we could make that together

once I get the time to call for it.. buuut my service isn’t free, shishishi~” He teased as he ruffled (Name)’s hair, which made them roll their eyes but nod anyway. They knew just the way to repay him after all, so a small favour like this wasn’t a big deal in that way, but it meant a lot to them. And maybe they didn’t hate their pimples as much as they thought, after all, if Ruggie didn’t care, why should they? Soon Ruggie was off with a quick bye bye kiss, leaving (Name) feeling impatient as they waited and prepared for their little date, smiling to themselves as they formed an all too familiar batter into shapes as oil heated up in a big pot behind them.

#inky's works #twisted wonderland #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland ruggie #twst ruggie #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #twst kalim #twisted wonderland kalim #leona twst #leona twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader

[turtlesundaes]

MARCH FOR RAPH DAYS TEN, ELEVEN AND TWELVE !!!!

Completely copied and pasted from my notes so you guys can have some cringe ramblings :>

———

SO… WE ALL REMEMBER MARCH FOR RAPH…

And I sort of got grounded…ish..

So instead of actually doing the prompts like we’d normally do- (drawing, writing, etc.) -we will rant about the topic instead because depression sucks but I still really want to do this !!! :>

I will be letting my mind wander so I will probably get off topic but I try my best.

Also some of these might become actual fanfics (???)

And it will all be posted within the same five minutes because why not.

DAY 10. Bowling with Casey

I did start drawing this one and it was gonna b a bunch of Raph and Cassandra doodles bc I had done Casey jr. for day six but generally they would be SO chaotic.

I totally see Raph having to explain what bowling even is to Cass at first (bc yk I don’t see her knowing much bc of being in the foot clan that is literally just a cult with ninja skills- I do see her knowing hockey tho from her childhood bc I don’t think she was born into the cult but just been in it from a super young age like six or something? yk what I mean??) but once she gets it she will absolutely demolish!!!

Like as in the bowling ball won’t even touch the floor because she throws it just perfectly.

When I think of Raph bowling I instantly think of him using baby rails and it TAKES ME. But I do think he would be decent at it, not the best in the family but also not the worst. (no baby rails required)

They would be super loud the whole time though, like, 100% would be kicked out b4 they finish the game so every turn matters bc they go off whatever score they had before getting kicked out.

They would yell a bunch of catchphrases and trash talk basically but Cass probably would curse very loudly out of habit and that’s like, the main reason for them getting kicked out.

Raph wouldn’t mind the getting kicked out part (cause I totally see them doing this on the regular so he’s used to it) but the cursing will be only a slight annoyance. (Just cause of how LOUD Cass would be not anything against the girl honestly he just gets embarrassed)

I see Raph using curse words but ONLY when he’s alone with Cass just cause it feels normal with her but even then it’s still a rarity.

They would totally travel from place to place after getting kicked out though, then tally the points from every place and loser hosts the next outing.

DAY 11. Favorite novel

In cannon his favorite novel is obviously Jupiter Jim or something but I’ve seen so many people saying Percy Jackson and I find that hilarious.

I never read much Percy Jackson (my brother is trying very hard to get me to and I probably will… soon enough-) I did read the first book, the sun and the star, saw some of the movie aaaaand I think like two episodes of the new series ???

But as we know the guys LOVE sci-fi so the whole gist of Percy Jackson isn’t too far off from Raph’s liking me thinks.

But personally I think Raph would ADORE the Wings of Fire series (if we’re gonna get all projecting here, as per usual /pos)

Like think about it !!! Cool mystical creatures, mystery, cool diverse magic AND THE LORE ?!?!?! Also the fact that’s theirs like sixteen books (???) not Including the many spin-offs and side stories- (I have no idea what the average number is for a large series so that’s a lot for me :^) oh! And the graphic novels!!

He would so relate to Clay and think his fireproof scales are so cool. I see so many similarities. He would match his brothers with the MC’s (Mikey with Sunny, Donnie with Starflight, Leo with Tsunami) ((I am so not saying this bc I’ve done it myself-)) GOSH HE WOULD TOTALLY MAKE FAN FICTION AND HAVE LITTLE NOTEBOOKS DEDICATED TO HIS HEADCANNONS AAAAAAAAAAHHH !!!1!!1!1!!!111!

In conclusion he would be a huge geek about it all (he would rope Mikey in bc YALL-) and Mikey would make them cool cardboard wings. The end :]

DAY 12. Stir Crazy

I realllllllllyyyyyyy wanted to draw this one with Mikey and Raph in the kitchen but alas.. 😔

But yes Raph can coooook!!! 🔥🔥🔥

Not actually though. What I see in my very good vision is Raph helping Mikey out in the kitchen. Specifically, stirring.

I’d think that after the invasion Raphs motor skills in general would need improvement. This is not based on anything actually scientific I just have a ✨feeling✨ that after his whole kraang-ified ordeal he would have trouble with knowing he was in control (as most have headcannoned yes, but I like to think of mine as slightly different :p) his arm and eye and insert other places he was kraang-ified that I don’t remember here, would be significantly impacted from this worse than his not kraang infected side.

Like he would have a lazy eye, his arm would twitch/spasm and/or that whole side of his body would get pins and needles or just go numb at times.

But even then it would take a long and I mean LONG time for him to even get to that point. Before that it’s going to be even worse, like, being temporarily paralyzed and/or he would have to learn how to move that side of his body all over again.

This gives us Leo and Raph learning to move again bonding, your welcome.

But I’m not that evil to actually make him forever paralyzed, even if it was just the arm. (I’m too much of a wuss 😔)

The other side of his body would also take time to move again but that’s like a few hours compared to the months of work Raphs gonna have to put into his other side.

I don’t care that he bounces back immediately in the movie that is going to be labeled adrenaline. Also that one scene where Mikey and Donnie get thrown and Leo’s all like “go for them!! 🥺” and Raph falls on his side for a second and his arm is limp before running to them.

That split second scene is basically the whole reason why this headcannon exists.

BUT BACK TO THE PROMPT !!! :D

During healing Raph would do motor skill practice with Mikey aka baking cause Raph loves to lick the batter of the spoon when their done and stirring helps his arm. He would also flip pancakes maybe but I don’t see him doing anything like measurements cause it’s Mikey’s whole thing to cook but he helps keep the place clean :]

———

Anywizle, my apologies for missing a few days and coming back with a messy rant- but it was fun so who cares!

So buh-bye! Have a good night and/or day! It may be possibly impossible but possibly I will see you tomorrow!

:>

#march for raph #rottmnt raph #raph tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt the movie #rottmnt april #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #writers on tumblr #writing #ramblings #ranting #rant post

[skinnypaleangryperson]

All I wanted in life was to be a mother, a loving wife, to raise a beautiful family because that is what feels like the most profound spiritual human gift of God to me, so much to the point that I can't even stand it even just with a stimulation of consuming or thinking about it for a few moments. I wanted to live in the city for a little bit of day-to-day diversity and to have a feeling creative career or at the very least have some sort of modest side product of a career, I wouldn't have been to picky in that aspect.

I reached my conclusion years ago and of the gradual devastation of realizing that none of those things would ever be even remotely possible to me or for me, and on top of that, did not even have a support group for profound grief, or even just general community and general for anything other than soulless people on apps all day that argue about things that don't matter and have no compassion for those that are spiritual and had actual human goals and dreams and to live meaningful lives outside of being a slave, aimless hobbies or temporary passions, and arguing about things like selfish appearance, or political opinions or things that true late, down to the absolute core nub if you're anybody who thinks or has any soul or self-awareness at all, does not matter. On the contrary, The people who stand for all these things is all that I have, who don't care about anyone or even themselves, much less incredibly spiritual gifted people like me who just wanted to live a human fulfilling dignified regular life with spiritual and creativity fulfillment.

These past couple of days, months, have been even enough because of the very two people of my parents who I am forced to stay alive for after they saved me for my suicide attempt from these very conclusions a couple of years ago, and living with them and living for them is just fulfilling enough that even though it does not save me from the profound mental and spiritual suffering I am enduring every minute of every day with very little relief, it is just enough to put me into this strange stagnance despite the suffering, like sitting in the middle of a fire, while waiting for the two people that occasionally pour a tranquil of water on me to keep it just enough so that I sometimes forget I'm sitting in the fire, which I've become numb to as much as anybody can become numb to that kind of pain and is forced to live with it for the sake of the two people pouring on the trinkle of water now and then.

There is never been any such thing as friendship for me, there will never be a community again, the few people that I even just saw casually around me in college I will never even have again even just remind me that I'm not the only person existing on this earth. There is no happy ending, there is not even anything that resembles anything even remotely tolerable, there was only a slow decline of death, watching my parents die and then immediately ending my own life as soon as I can, but having to deal with the profound physical and emotional suffering that comes with having to end my own life and having to wait for so long and day-to-day existence and of being crushed everyday with seeing the superficiality and the literal subhumanity around me that is my generation no matter where you look, that is turn the profound grief that I have of a lifelong suffering of never having a family and of having nothing that I can do about it into nothing but soulless malicious gas lighting, of telling me that I can do something about my problems, to not feel sorry for something that is of a prone suffering I can't even around I had around that I cannot fix, of telling me that I need to get over it, as if I could ever get over something, and all the while not even having the luxury of being able to end my own life that is told time and time again that does not matter and isn't even allowed to grieve, or be seen, or to even discuss things say for posting over towards places where I essentially am just talking to myself on a digital screen instead of to the literal void in reality where I can no longer perceive or understand reality or that I exist, where dysfunctionality and suffering increases daily.

The suffering can be beautiful sometimes, but only in the sense that it reminds me that at the very least I will die for a genuine true human reason unlike the majority of people that I am forced to see everyday just to fight off psychosis and to give me stimulation of human interaction even though no one is really human anymore or even understands what that means, and you can see it in the posting that is on every app everywhere daily, how a soulless, rude, loud and how aimless people are. It's reached incomprehensible points where there's not much point in even trying to keep up with that at this point.

I just want to go, I just want to not stuff for anymore. I've had everything taken away from me, even the ability of being able to talk with people who respect my profound grief and my perspective and as to the conclusions that I've reached, and I have nothing but full grown man and woman children that have reduced it to a joke of telling me "just to get a plant". I am one of the only few human beings left on this earth, and as a result I have been left alone with my grief, and as if the loss that I've experienced wasn't enough of the dignified life that I wanted to live, I don't even have a community or people who are at the very least offer the baseline sense of decency or sympathy, or even humanity, towards that grief, and it is suffocating inside my head like a wretching grief only getting more confusing as I get older.

Please, fate, let me go. Everyday I will my body to give out.

#raw suffering #there's not a single person in this generation who has enough soul or human death to even remotely understand what is the lowest version of #being human for me that for most people in this generation would be the closest thing to feeling human that they had ever felt #in their entire life

[hetaologist]

APH America "Ethnography" and Headcanons (SFW)

The United States of America, Alfred F. Jones, Mr. Stars and Stripes, 'Merica, Pretty Boy, um... or just simply America.

Here is a list of data I have gathered from this country and oh boy, what an interesting specimen we have here....

Ethnography

You will find this find this mythological creature at your local Walmart superstore during the evening hours on a weekday, sporting flannel loungewear pants (The plaid kind), a cotton t-shirt that definitely has been worn no less than two (2) times, Old Navy $1 flip flops, and a gray jacket.

When asked about his late night runs to the popular supermarket chain, his answer is just simply:

"There's nothing else to do and no where to go."

America's Cart Inventory for March 22nd:

One (1) package of "Mega Stuf Chocolate Oreos" for $5.97, One (1) 6-Pack of "Starbucks Frappuccino Chilled Coffee Drinks" in Caramel Flavor for $7.98, One (1) Family Sized Bag of "Flaming Hot Cheetos" for $5.94, One (1) "Furby Interactive Toy" for $39.19, and One (1) Stick of " Axe Apollo Men's Deodorant Stick" for $4.97. Total of purchase was $64.05 before tax.

When questioned about the "Furby Interactive Toy", he replies:

"Yeah dude, there's this thing I wanna make that's called a "Long Furby". Wanna come by my place and check it out?"

I agreed to the invination as it would give me a better look into his living space and lifestyle. He's very friendly person.

Living Space (Home):

Oh dear god, why did I agree to come here?

House is a what you would expect from a typical American college student such as:

"Saturdays Are For The Boys" banner flag, Marvel and DC posters, a very unsettling looking blue leather couch that looks like it has been through hell and back, random dumbbells and untouched exercise equipment, every game console from the 1972 "The Magnavox Odyssey" to the PS5, action figures from various popular TV shows and comics, an old KFC bucket with half eaten chicken on the coffee table and a shelf with a huge vinyl record and CD collection.

Conclusion: What a fucking gross nerd.

America offers a cold can of Coca-Cola, I accept it.

He shows me a very long light blue "Long Furby" from his collection, further proving how much of a dork he was.

When asked what kind of music he liked (in regards to his music collection), he replies:

"That's hard to answer, it changes every week. Because of my diverse music, I pretty much like everything. One week I could be listening to 1980's classic rock, 2000's techno-pop, Bluegrass Country, 1990's Hip Hop or anything. But, if I had to give you this week's favorite artist, it would have to be Taylor Swift and Doja Cat."

"Interesting..." I replied.

I have recorded enough data for today (the smell was bothering me) and left his home to do further extensive research.

Headcanons:

America has a deep love for cars and trucks, he can be seen working on his vintage 1968 Dodge Charger R/T called 'Thunderbird' (an absolute speed demon that can reach at top speeds of muthafuckin' 156 mph), and his enormous 2019 Ford F-150 'Big John' that he loves to drive to world meetings because he is a total stud muffin showoff.

Oh yeah, he defiantly modded 'Big John' horns with airblasters. So when he parks his car and he sees other nations come out of their vehicles, he pounds on that horn and scares the living shit out of them.

He totally does 2 am donuts in the Thunderbird the front of Walmart parking lots with his brother Canada to freak him out.

Other than seeing him work on his cars while listening to "Waking Up in Vegas by Katy Perry" on the radio, he's in his room sorting out his action figure and comic book collection.

Damn, what what a geek.

He has an eBay account where he buys, trades and auctions his collection as his interests constantly change.

If you think him being a geek, dork and a nerd is gonna save him from getting a basic ass Stanley cup, you're wrong.

He has a navy blue one that he takes to meetings and he would get dirty looks from the other nations.

"Goddamn it America, you do not need that much coffee."

"Fuck you, you scone sucking twink. It's not coffee, it's the Panera Super Charged Lemonade mixed with Redbull."

"I beg your fucking pardon..."

He gave Canada a red one for his birthday that he also takes with him to meetings.

"Canada, mon ami~. That better not be that merde American drinks that makes your heart explode."

"No, it's Tim Hortons iced coffee."

"Well.. that's better than what America drinks..."

#hetalia headcanons #hetalia axis powers #hetalia oc #hws #hetalia world stars #hetalia america #aph america

[boopiddyboop]

Kang Yeosang Natal Chart Reading

So, the rumor is that Yeosang has a birth time of 1:30 AM.. I’m not feeling very certain about this considering I can’t find the source. BUT, I think it makes enough sense that I’ll go ahead and do the analysis with this understanding, and if it turns out the time is not correct, well I’ll just commit to eating my words about certain parts of this. 

Full Disclaimer: Most of my knowledge is by traditional astrology, which involves but is not limited to: using whole signs, excluding Uranus-Pluto for natal charts, different sign rulers, and different planetary interpretations.  Astrology is subjective by nature; I do not think my way is best, simply that this is the version of interpretation that makes the most sense to me. This is not a professional service, simply a hobby meant for entertainment purposes only.  Feel free to disagree with or question my conclusions.

Placements:

Sun: Gemini - 3rd house

Moon: Cancer - 4th house

Mercury: Cancer - 4th house

Venus: Leo - 5th house

Mars: Libra - 7th house

Jupiter: Aries - 1st house

Saturn: Taurus - 2nd house

Ascendant: Aries

Midheaven: Capricorn - 10th house

North Node: Leo - 5th house

So starting off, Yeosang has a rather spread out chart, not holding more than two placements in a sign or house. And while that typically leads to a lot of diverse energy, if you analyze the chart by modality, you’ll see that his placements strongly lean cardinal. I typically associate Yeosang with being a bit lighter in energy, and you definitely see that with his lack of earth signs. But that cardinal energy does give him some umph that makes him not as flighty. He’s got drive, especially with that Aries Rising. Aries is energetic and a bit childlike, but very interestingly, his chart ruler becomes Mars in Libra. Libra and Aries are sister signs, so while they both share that cardinal spirit, they do so in opposite ways. In a group with so much Martian energy (Aries and Scorpio placements), it really brings out a contrast when placed against Yeosang. Makes him much more gentle in comparison. Funnily enough, that Jupiter in Aries also in the first is helping that muscle-maltese image- bringing growth and expansion in this case.

strong boi

Once again, we see a Moon in Cancer (something we see in Seonghwa, Mingi, and Wooyoung as well). Of the four of them, I think Seonghwa’s portrayal is the strongest, seeing as it’s in his 1st house, with Yeosang as a distinct second place. His Aries rising makes him a bit more immature (as opposed to Seonghwa’s Aries stellium that makes him more serious since it’s in his 10th house), but Cancer in the 4th house is a very at home placement, bringing care and domesticity to the home. It also makes him a bit more traditional. His Mercury in Cancer is also sitting close by, as a ruler to his Sun in Gemini. Having his Sun in the 3rd house helps bring some fire to his Mercury, which could otherwise be a bit too emotional otherwise. Yeosang’s quippiness? Thank his Gemini Sun. It's a bit dilluted being ruled by that Mercury in Cancer though.

Side note: It’s cute how he and San are flipped in that respect, with San’s Sun in Cancer being ruled by a Moon in Gemini. You’ll find lots of cute synastry and conjunctions like this within groups, especially members that seem to get along well (I do think San plays it up a bit for the camera, but I think they’re truly sympathetic to each other in some ways).

Yeosang’s Leo Venus is bringing a certain amount of sensuality to him with its placement in the 5th house, while still being very passionate. This is also a pretty artistic placement. Between this and his Mars in Libra ruling his chart, it makes sense that he became an idol. His midheaven in Capricorn also helps with the idol-life as well; a lot of sheer work ethic is needed. Finally, a Saturn in Taurus in the 2nd house is bringing some levity to his spending habits. He’s not fully balanced into earth sign energy, but Lord knows he’s not the only one in the group lacking earth energy either.

Final thoughts: Overall, Yeosang’s chart reminds me of the saying “still waters run deep”. While his water Mercury ruling his Gemini Sun conceals a lot, he’s got a deep, passionate drive underneath. I’m excited to get into analyzing him more thoroughly against Wooyoung and San (maybe even as a separate post?) but for now, I think I’ve got a better picture of the overall flavor, and I hope you do, too 😀

Questions, comments, or requests can all go here

#kang yeosang #yeosang #ateez #ateez astrology #yeosang astrology #yeosang natal chart #astrology #kpop astrology

[eruden-writes]

Room & Board - Part 7 - (Tabaeus x Reader)

Anon submitted this prompt: For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Part 1 | Previous | Masterlist | Next

x x x x x

Hearing Jemma, your fisted hands instantly release Tabaeus’s trench coat. You push away from the counter, standing straight as you whirl around to see Jemma’s expression. 

Luckily, suspicion and horror are not painted over her face. She looks hugely amused, a ‘knowing’ smirk curling at her lips as she crosses her arms. Something in you balks as she raises an eyebrow and smirks, “So what’s going on here?” 

“Um…” You clear your throat, trying to buy yourself time. It’s not enough, especially under Jemma’s attention. You step to the side, motioning toward Tabaeus on the other side of the counter. For now, carefully telling the truth seems like the best option. “This is Tabaeus. They’re my roommate.” 

“You’re roommates?” Jemma’s eyebrow raises higher, her smirk widening. You both know the joke about two people ‘being roommates. You can literally see the implication playing out in your co-worker’s head. 

“It’s a new development.” you rush to say, raising your hands in an attempt to metaphorically stop her from jumping to conclusions. Not to mention the mortification you’d feel if Jemma inferred that your sick days had been spent with Tabaeus. Not that she would know exactly what happened, but she would assume so much. Heat is already beginning to climb up your cheeks at the unuttered implications.

You decide the best route is diversion. Throwing a dirty glare at Tabaeus, you add, “And they just acquired some sugar gliders. Without asking me.” 

“Oh! I am so sorry,” gasps Tabaeus, turning a solemn expression to you. “I did not think to confer with you first.” 

“Yeah, well, pets are a big thing and expensive.” Mentally, you’ve already ticked off all the costs two exotic pets could cost. A housing fixture, toys, food, finding a vet that treats such pets. Faintly, you wonder if you even need a permit to own sugar gliders. “We don’t even have the right enclosure for them or food. And I don’t even know if we have the space at the apartment.” 

Tabaeus smiles and tilts their head at your last comment. “We are not going to live there for much longer, though!” 

With wide eyes, you give Tabaeus a look, silently pleading for them to shut up. But their attention is once again on the sugar gliders, cooing and wiggling a long finger at them.

“What? You’re moving?” Your co-worker almost sounds hurt and betrayed. 

“Another new development,” you laugh awkwardly as you shoot an apologetic smile at Jemma. Her amusement has drained from her features now. She looks suspiciously between you and Tabaeus. You can only imagine what she’s thinking. That Tabaeus is a sugar daddy or maybe that they’re a bad person and you’ve found yourself in some heinous situation.

Tabaeus continues to dig the hole with painfully cheerful words, “We will be attaining a house soon!” 

Just barely, you fight the urge to throw Tabaeus another dirty look. They seem completely unaware of your frantic anger and worry, too enthralled with the sugar gliders snugly placed in the inner pocket of their coat. You didn’t want to rouse suspicion. At all. But you being able to buy a house, while working minimum wage, was suspicious enough.

You’d been contemplating what excuse to use earlier. Now, you can cross ‘willed the house by a old relative’ excuse off the list. Otherwise, Tabaeus’s exclamation of ‘attaining a house soon’ would be viewed suspiciously. 

“You’re getting a house?” If Jemma’s eyebrows raise any farther up, you think they’ll permanently combine with her hairline. 

“Maybe.” Trying your hardest to make your smile seem natural, you try to distract your inner tension by once again doing menial jobs around the counter. Desperately, you try to land on a plausible excuse, if only to get Jemma’s gaze off you. “I came into some money and poked around the prospect of getting a house. It seems attainable.” 

“You sure? The government likes to tax the shit out of cash gifts. Happened to my sister when our bitchy great aunt left her a savings account,” Jemma asks as she leans against a counter. As an aside, she snorts and venomously adds, “Old hag only left me a roll of toilet paper.”

You can’t help but bitterly think she could drop the subject and find something to do. Anything to get away from the topic of you. But, she’s got three years seniority on you. Instead, you embrace another lie. “Oh, I already looked into that. I’m good!”

“No shit?” Jemma’s gaze flickers from you to Tabaeus, who still seems utterly ignorant of the suspicion wafting off your co-worker. 

“No shit,” you affirm, trying to pump out as much positivity as you can. 

“Huh, well, good for you! Tell you what,” you glance up from refilling ingredients to see Jemma grinning at you. She pushes off the counter she’s been leaning on and takes an empty container from your hands. “Why don’t you take the rest of the evening off?” 

“What?” Despite the fact Jemma has let you off early in the past, you can’t help but hear alarms ringing at the back of your head. Something just feels off, this time. 

“Yeah, it’s been slow and I can handle the rest of the shift.” Jemma nods and nudges you out of the way. It’s true. The last rush of the evening is over and even that had been a rather light occurrence. A glance around the dead food court affirms how dead the area is. Jemma tosses a teasing glance at Tabaeus, her eyebrows raising again. “You got two new roomies to get comfy, don’t ya?” 

You press your lips together, looking out toward the food court and the mall proper. There is a pet store on the upper level and, if you recall correctly, it was having a going-out-of-business sale. As it did every quarter.

“I suppose,” you begin to agree, your lips pursing. The alarms are still ringing in your head, but a little quieter after assessing the situation. “Are you certain you don’t want me to stick around?” 

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” Your co-worker has turned her full attention to refilling stock, not even sparing you a glance. She waves a dismissive hand at you.

Unable to push it any further, you nod and smile, “Alright, thanks, Jemma.” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” she laughs as you turn toward the backroom, hands behind your back undoing your apron. You freeze as Jemma’s taunting tone returns, her words leaving your insides squirming, “Have fun, you crazy lovebirds.” 

“We’re not together!” It was all you could say as you duck into the back, your face flushing hot. Jemma’s laughter follows you to the back, where you finally untangle your apron and hang it up. You gather your things and swipe your badge, going slow just in case a sudden rush came up. But, to your luck, no one seems interested in Jollies or sweets tonight. 

As you leave the back exit, shoving your work cap and badge into your bag, Tabaeus surprises you at the door. 

“Hello,” they smile down at you, their hands in their pockets. You glance at the spot where their inner pocket resides, though you don’t see a writhing lump of rodentia. For the most part, the sugar gliders seem rather calm, at least. 

Casting a suspicious look up at Tabaeus - recalling how they had ensorceled the annoying customer from earlier - you ask, “How’d you know I was coming out?” 

“Oh, I overheard you and your colleague.” You were close to chiding Tabaeus about eavesdropping, before they added, “She also spoke to me a bit while you were preparing to leave.” 

Instantly, the alarms came back. You narrow your eyes, weighing the options between Jemma ribbing Tabaeus in a friendly way or something a little more worrisome. Grabbing them by the wrist, you led them further down the hall. The thought of leaving the hall, close to the counter of Milk King Lemon Jollies and Jemma’s attention, makes something in you shrivel. 

Instead, you lead Tabaeus toward a barely used stairwell. Even though it’s unlikely someone will overhear, you pitch your voice low, “What did she say?” 

“Nothing much,” the vampire gives a shrug. You can feel their gaze tilted toward where your hand grasps their wrist and it makes a tingling, hot sensation creep up your arm. “She said I was not the sort you usually ‘go for’ - whatever that means - and to treat you well. That is about it.” 

You give an uncertain hum, but decide to drop it. Jemma’s presence always had a habit of making you a little too sensitive. Her near-constant jokey teasing and taunting had been hard to get accustomed to. Especially in the beginning.

“I must confess,” Tabaeus begins, causing you to pause on the empty landing between sets of stairs. You turn, looking up at them curious. “I fear I did overuse my abilities.” 

Sensing where this is going, you roll your eyes and drily laugh, “Oh, really?” 

“Yes. A snack may help.” Tabaeus smiles, their voice dipping gently to a bashful softness. 

Realizing you’re still holding their wrist - due to how the heat moving up your arm worsens - your fingers instantly snap open. Tabaeus startles at the sudden release. You try to ignore the disappointment that dances across their face, instead latching onto incredulity. “Seriously? We’re at the mall!” 

“I suppose I can carry on,” Tabaeus sighs, shrugging helplessly. Again, that soft smile pulls across their lips. It’s earnest and sincere and soft. The same smile they’ve been giving you since you met and over the course of your sick days. But you still can’t help wondering how sincere and sweet it truly is. “I just would hate to fall into a swoon. Leaving you to carry not just myself, but also Bjarka and Liuva too.”

For a second, confusion cools the heat of your uncertainty. “Bjarka and Liuva?” 

Tabaeus gently patted at a spot a little below their chest, where the sugar gliders lay.

Your lips twist into a puckered frown, as your eyes slip from their hand up to Tabaeus’s face. They return your dry look with one of placid innocence. The curious question of just how conniving the vampire is still rings in your thoughts. But a small part of you worries about having an unconscious vampire on your hands. Or worse, a starved vampire.

It’s doubtful Tabaeus would go blood-hungry, like that first night. But you also don’t want to risk them taking too much at the next feeding. Over the course of your sick days, the two of you even managed a good balance. 

As Tabaeus waits, you realize how dim the lights are in the stairwell. The air is a little mustier than the rest of the mall. In the corner, a forgotten styrofoam cup sits. The logo on it is from an event hosted months ago. 

No one will stumble on the two of you. And if they do, the stairwell is the perfect excuse for making out. Thinking that very thought makes Jemma's face, with suggestive grin and raised eyebrows, flash through your head. 

“Fine,” you sigh, trying to ignore how Tabaeus’s very body language brightens. They take a step closer to you, boxing you into a corner of the stairwell. Their hands grasp at your hips, long fingers strong enough to keep you in place. Quickly, as they stoop over you, you raise a hand to their lips. “Wait.” 

Tabaeus watches you carefully, hungrily, as you lean your head and expose your neck to them. You pull at the neckline of your work shirt, baring most of your shoulder to them. Your heart thrums under their gaze. A blush creeps over your cheeks, worsening as your words come out breathy and soft. “Remember, keep the marks somewhere not so obvious.”

The two of you have already discussed this facet of feeding, though you’ve had yet to experiment with novel places. Whenever you think of it, your imagination brings up the thought of Tabaeus between your legs, biting into the flesh of your thigh and your pulse jumps. Then the heat worsens when you think of how Tabaeus might know of that thought, from the other times they’ve sucked your blood.

If they can see what route your thoughts have gone down, or the flush starting to burn at your cheeks, they make no indication. Their lips graze over your shoulder, not exactly cold but not bodily warm. Against your skin, you feel their lips twitch into a smile as their breath ghosts over you, “Of course, amata trinkaĵo.”

Not quite sure when, your hands have found their way to Tabaeus’s chest, beneath their trench coat. As the familiar prick of their fangs pierce your skin, your fingers dig into and bunch the fabric of their top. Your heart pounds, the far-off sound of mall patrons seeming louder than before. 

Your eyes wrench shut, imagining being found like this with Tabaeus. Their stooped form and their face against your shoulder, your little half-gasps heard by a stranger. It would look like nothing more than a salacious make-out session, wouldn’t it? 

That thought makes heat sink into your core and through your body. You faintly wonder if Tabaeus can taste your blood heating up or if they know what you’re thinking. That thought just intensifies the warmth. 

Tabaeus leans closer, their coat curtaining you in its folds. One of their hands skirts up your side, following the curvatures of your body through the fabric of your shirt. They tug at your shirt, freeing it from the pant waistband it had been tucked into. 

Their fingers on your flesh make you inhale sharply. Your back arches at their touch, something a little more intense than a half-gasp leaving your lips. Their fingernails shift slightly into the sharper claws you remember from that first night, the sharp tips grazing your soft skin. 

Your eyes snap open, realizing just how ragged your breathing has become and how, at the corner of your thoughts, you’re seeing the faintest of strange images, foreign memories. With a struggle, you gather your wits and mumble, “T-Tabaeus, that’s enough.” 

The sound of your voice stills their drinking, but your stomach drops when they don’t pull away immediately. One of Tabaeus’s hands has slid to your lower back, the other returns to your hip. A vibration coils out of their chest. Low and rumbly, they growl, “I want more.” 

“No, you only said a snack,” you say, your words caught between distressed and desire. You half-think Tabaeus means something other than blood. But you don’t want to think about that. Not when your heart is thrumming and your body is twinging and your head swims. Especially not when you’re both at the mall, you add to yourself, when you catch a staticky announcement playing over the building’s sound system.

“You are correct,” Tabaeus finally sighs, after a moment of silence. Their tongue takes one last swipe at the blood pooling on your skin, before pulling away. Without them so close, without their coat keeping in the heat, you suddenly feel cold.

As you get your bearings, you stare up at Tabaeus, watching as their tongue flicks over their lips. “I might regret this, but what does amata trinkaĵo mean?”

Tabaeus pauses, a flash of awkwardness creasing their features. With a cringy sort of smile, they glance down at you. “You caught that?” 

“Yes.” Your eyes narrow, suddenly wondering if this was about to be a sango sako moment all over again. 

Tabaeus abruptly turns away from you, taking the steps two at a time now. To their credit, even as they retreat, they answer, “Trinkaĵo means drink. You’re my favorite drink.” 

“Excuse me?” You gape after the fleeing vampire, their footsteps pounding up the stairs. Your own footfalls soon follow suit, with a bit more oomph than theirs.

Tabaeus gets to the landing before you and they look around the large corridor of the mall, their hand shielding their eyes theatrically. With an exaggerated motion of their hand, they point to your destination and loudly say, “Oh, is that the animal supply store? Better get there before they close.” 

They’re already halfway to the store by the time your feet hit the landing. You glare after them, lips pressed tightly. It takes you a second to follow after them. Your pride still burns at being called a favorite drink. Like you’re nothing more than a soda fountain for the vampire. 

But you follow Tabaeus into the pet store, reminding yourself bitterly that this visit is all because of them, as well. They just had to take a pair of sugar gliders from someone on the subway. You shake your head, heaving a sigh. Stepping into the store, you easily find Tabaeus, already assessing a number of enclosures.

You fall into place beside them, but as your shoulder mildly throbs, you half-regret letting Tabaeus bum a snack off you. 

Part of you can’t quite discern what the other half is feeling, though. And that worries you.

#exophilia #exo writing #monster lover #monster fucker #vampire #vampire x reader #2nd person pov #second person pov #vampire lover #vampire fucker #monster romance #tabaeus #reader #room and board #room & board #room and board part 7 #room & board part 7 #lol Tabaeus being smooth in the wrong way #pay careful attention to which word he actually translated #:P #of course he still called reader a drink regardless #rab

[morally-grey-girlbosses]

Friends, Romans, countrymen, I made a mistake. A pretty significant one which I'm shocked nobody has called me on: there is a franchise I have included three characters from instead of two. The Mechanisms has three entrants into the bracket: Odin, Doctor Carmilla, and Raphaella la Coginzi. This is my error due to not realizing that Odin's source, The Bifrost Incident, was also a Mechanisms property.

While I could allow these as separate sources (as Odin is not a member of the Mechanisms as a band, or their meta-story, but rather a character from an in-universe folkloric history) it feels disingenuous to do so in the light of me counting things like the loosely connected animes Detective Conan and Magic Kaito, or the diverse multitude of properties under the DCEU, as "single sources". It also does not feel fair to disqualify any of the three Mechanisms characters, as each evidently has enough support to advance at least as far as the second round.

Therefore, I have decided that each source is now entitled a maximum of three characters. I have gone through the previous qualifier rounds and identified the characters newly made eligible under these rules. Due to the issues that would be posed by adding them to the main bracket at this time, they will be given their own bracket, which will take place after the loser's bracket. After the conclusion of this bracket, its winner will face in a three-way poll against the winners of the losers bracket and the main bracket to determine the final champion of the tournament.

The list of characters who will be placed in this new bracket is given under the cut. Due to the irregular number of qualifying characters, two were chosen to advance to the second round of their bracket automatically. These two were chosen because the volume of submissions for them led me to believe that they would likely receive a larger share of the votes in their initial round. Thank you for understanding.

QUALIFYING CHARACTERS:

Aura Blackquill (Ace Attorney)

Chianti (Detective Conan)

Annabelle Cane (The Magnus Archives)

Any Female Anglerfish (IRL Animals) (Advances for free)

Lisa Wilbourn AKA Tattletale (Worm)

Selina Kyle AKA Catwoman (DCEU)

Rose Lalonde (Homestuck)

Izumi Curtis (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Commander Wake (The Locked Tomb) (Advances for free)

Emperor/Empress Elegabalus (IRL History)

Glimmer (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Shauna Sadecki née Shipman (Yellowjackets)

Lady Reze (Chainsaw Man)

Calypso (Greek Mythology)

[drdemonprince]

I'm AplAroAce 99% of the time. I have very particular taste in women. I'm also trans, autistic, a person of color, and have cPTSD.

It doesn't seem like finding someone "normal" in a "normal" way is going to work for me. My few relationships have failed spectacularly bc people like the idea of me (I'm conventionally attractive and mask) but not ME (I have a lot of pain inside but am not abusive etc)

How will I ever find the partner I'm looking for? I've been alone - physically, mentally/emotionally - my whole life.

I'm always working on bettering myself physically and mentally. Advice?

It sounds like people are falling in love with the mask -- and ergo, the only way for people to be able to fall in love with the unmasked you is for them to have the chance to meet that person. I recognize feeling comfortable enough around someone to unmask takes a great deal of time. It takes me years, under most circumstances. There are dear friends of mine who have only seen me unmasked but rarely. So yes, finding someone who is compatible with you and appreciative of the person you actually are, rather than the person they think they're meeting might take time.

Conventional dating scripts and social mores are designed for a very particular type of person -- one so uncomplicated and compliant with the dominant social order as to probably not even exist. It sounds to me like you've already arrived at the correct conclusion: dating in the conventional way and following conventional scripts is not going to suit you. The thing is, this also applies to one's conceptions of what a relationship is, and what dating and romance are for.

If conventional dating norms don't suit you, it's pretty likely conventional relationship structures and social expectations surrounding them also aren't gonna be a good fit. So really sitting down with yourself and articulating what you want a relationship to look like, and why you even want one, is probably the place to start. It's hard to imagine a completely new world and lifestyle from the privacy of one's bedroom, admittedly, so you'll also have to expose yourself to a variety of different relationship models, and structures, and people building relationships with one another, in order to envision for yourself something that might work.

It's impossible to build genuine and nourishing relationships when one is pretending to be a person that they are not. It's also impossible to do so when one is seeking a relationship that society says one is supposed to want, but which doesn't actually align with your personal needs and values. Being able to articulate more or less what is workable for you and what you need will also help point you toward the communities and spaces where dating is most likely to pay off.

But for now, I think the best thing to do is work on building lots of kinds of relationships with lots of kinds of people -- friendships, shared hobbies, clubs, discussion or support groups, casual dating or sex if you want to, cuddle buddies, mentors, volunteer gigs, young people you mentor, neighbors you get to know better, etc etc etc -- because this will aid you getting to know yourself, work on unmasking, and in taking in the full breadth of human diversity and the diversity of what relationships can be. Who knows where you'll find yourself, and what you'll discover along the way works best for you.

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday Christina 'Licorice' McKechnie, born on October 2nd 1945 in Edinburgh.

This is always a difficult post for, I say Happy Birthday to Licorice, but in my heart I think she is dead, she was last heard from in 1990, and the last sighting of, "Likkie’’ as she became known, was hitchhiking across the Arizona desert.

Christina ‘Licorice’ McKechnie was born in Edinburgh in 1945, there is nothing about her early life online that I can find, her story starts when she was known around the folk clubs of Auld Reekie, reciting poetry, it was around this time she left home-and was set to marry, the late great Scottish folk musician Bert Jansch. The banns had been called, (Banns were a legal requirement and were an intention of marriage, posted for people to see in their parish,) the wedding never took place, Jansch left Scotland for Morocco.

Likkie began a relationship with Robin Williamson who along Robin,Clive Palmer and Mike Heron had form The Incredible String Band, the group split for a time when Williamson and Likkie went travelling but reformed on their return as a duo with Heron. They later played on the same bill as Leonard Cohen and Joni Mitchell, Likkie joined then as vocalist and they recorded the album, The 5000 Spirits or the Layers of the Onion.

The band went on to have success touring but had limited commercial success. They got involved with Scientology in the 60’s and it is said to have contributed to a decline in their music quality, they did however play Woodstock in 69, they were scheduled to play the first day and a fee of $4500 had been agreed, this would have been a huge sum for them back in the 60’s and you would have thought bigger things beckoned. The band didn’t appear on the film of the festival as they refused to play in the rain, their slot was taken by the fabulous Melanie (Safka) who later wrote “Lay Down (Candles in the Rain)” about her day. “String Band” played the next day on a mainly rock day, the world missed out and so did they.

By late 1969, they had established a communal base at Glen Row near Innerleithen, Likkie and Robin split around this time although she remained in the group till 1972. After a failed marriage to musician Brian Lambert she featured on an album with Williamson and his Merry men and an album with Woody Woodmansey’s band U-Boat. Beyond this, it's believed that she may have bounced around, living perhaps in Los Angeles, Arizona, and Sacramento.

The Diversity of Classic Rock website reports that McKechnie's sister last heard from her in 1990, when McKechnie had been recovering from surgery in Sacramento. The site is also one of many that claims McKechnie disappeared in the Arizona desert, but this has never been conclusively proved.

Time to hit the kitchen to grab a few grains of salt because Reddit has also weighed in on her disappearance, with unproven theories ranging from a Scientology connection to parsing the words of former bandmates who wish (emphasis on the present tense) her well.

Redditors also claim that McKechnie's family hired private investigators to find her, though they were unsuccessful. Others counter that she's been traced via a basic internet search to a small city in the States. The confusion is enough to make any casual sleuth hope that McKechnie just grew tired of the spotlight and is now happy in her anonymity.

I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether Likkie is dead, or if she is living way off grid somewhere on the other side of the Atlantic celebrating her 78th birthday.

#scotland #scottish #history #flower power #Th incredible string band #edinburgh #Happy Birthday? #Woodstock

[runawaymun]

Hey, I'm really sorry if this ask comes across as hostile, but due to recent experiences with another Tolkien fan, I do feel like I need to ask. In the tags of a recent post you reblogged, you mentioned being Christian. I know that there are many Christians who are kind, loving people who embrace the queer community, including trans people. But unfortunately, I also know there are a lot of Christians who don't. I would prefer to not follow someone who thinks I and people like me are evil simply because of who we are, or who try to pull that 'love the sinner hate the sin' crap. I am not saying that you are one of those people, but I have unfortunately encountered enough of those types of Christians (even in fandom spaces) that when someone says they are Christian, it makes me nervous. I understand my own religious trauma is my issue and I need to work through it, but I would still like to know how you feel about the queer community, as I greatly enjoy your fic and art and would like to continue enjoying your fic and art. Obviously you don't have to answer this ask and regardless of your answer you shouldn't be attacked. Sorry for rambling and I hope have a good day.

Hi there!

No I really appreciate the ask and I get it. I am glad you’re taking initiative to keep yourself safe and curate your online experience. I have a huge boatload of religious trauma myself from my upbringing so when I say I completely understand, please know that I really do.

I’m openly GNC bisexual myself & a trans & nb ally and a member of the queer community who writes a lot of ragingly gay fanfic and l am also a member of the Christian faith. I grew up raised extremely evangelical and am not anymore. I just read the Book, do my own religious practice, believe in God, and try to be active in the little Lutheran church I sometimes attend because Church community is important to me and I’m fortunate to have finally found a church community that is both a safe place for me as an openly queer person & also has sound doctrine and theology. It was a long road to finding one because I’m not willing to compromise on either of those lol.

I spent a long, long time decompressing from my upbringing and unpacking my religious trauma (therapy!!), and came to the conclusion from studying the book & long prayer & discussion with other queer Christians that God Is Not Small. The Church’s historical and current hatred toward queerness is a manufactured product of Man, not God. I’ve spent years studying all of the classic “bludgeoning passages” that are brought up to go “see!!!!!!! See the Bible says it’s a sin!!!!!!!” And found through linguistic study and intersectional doctrine that, actually, no those passages have nothing to do with people in consensual, healthy, committed queer relationships. The Bible has nothing to say about trans people or enby people either. It has a lot to say about how we are all unique and diverse and made imago dei, that we are loved — and that is the truest thing about us. Again: God is not small. God does not have a gender. The Bible even makes references to God having a womb in some poetry and prophecy chapters (metaphorically, but the point being that God is not “male”). Jesus never married. Paul was arguably ace. Jesus healed a gay centurion’s boyfriend and told him “go in peace”.

Sorry, I’m rambling too!!! TLDR: I am a proud member of the queer community and I am Christian and I don’t believe those things are antithetical. I’ve experienced a lot of pain at the hands of Christians, but never from the hands of God — only love and comfort. And I am fortunate and extremely grateful to finally have friends and a church community who strive for Christlike behavior and agree with me that God Is Not Small, and that God’s love is infinite and diverse. We’re made imago dei— so why should we be any different? 🫶

Hope this helps clarify and again I appreciate the ask. I really wish you well on your healing journey with your religious trauma and whatever that looks like for you. I hope you have peace 💕 and if you ever want a friend who Gets It I’m happy to chat and I’m here 💕

#cw religion #Christianity #religious trauma #out of uniform #queer

[mochegato]

No Matter the Consequences

“Well,” Adrien started slowly, his eyes focused on the Lucky Charm that had landed in Ladybug’s hand just a moment before, “that is a pretty clear sign. Even I could figure out what to do with that.”  His voice was laced with sympathy for her.  Ladybug’s next steps could not be clearer, but that didn’t mean they would be easy for her.  In fact, he was fairly certain it would be one of the more difficult things she’d had to do.

Ladybug shook her head, her lips pulling down in a deep pout.  “No, it’s not.”  Where Adrien’s voice was sympathetic, Ladybug’s was nearly desperate. “There’s something else.  There always is.”  She stared at it as though the intensity of her stare could make the purpose suddenly appear like hidden messages revealed with heat.

“Alright,” he agreed indulgently, playing along until she came to the conclusion on her own… as long as she came to it quickly, because they really did not have time to indulge in self-pity and wallowing.  “You think it’s meant for a diversion then?”

“I don’t know,” she whined.  She held it away from herself as if its very presence offended her, which it did.

He settled his hands on her shoulders.  “Focus, Marinette.  What do you see?”

Ladybug’s eyes shot up to him for a moment before darting around the hallway and into the rooms she could see from their position, desperately searching for anything, any elements she could bring into the plan to take it in another direction, away from the Watchtower’s Property Room, or, more specifically, the superhero working in it.  When nothing sparked, her entire body jounced in a physical manifestation of the whimper she was holding in.

“Marinette,” Adrien cut in urgently when he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. “Not to rush you, but you need to act. Now!  Connor is being held by some very bad people because they want our miraculouses and grabbed the wrong blond-haired, green-eyed guy from our place. Now, the only way to get him back is with said ring, which is in said room, being watched by said guy, preferably before they kill my boyfriend!”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips at him.  “None of that was ‘said’.”

Adrien let out a deep sigh to ground himself before he snapped at her, then squeezed her shoulders to ground her before she started spiraling.  “It’s a straightforward Charm, maybe it was meant for me.”  He shot her a disarming, if hurried smile.  “I’m a simple guy, remember?  I can do this, so you don’t have to.  Your boyfriend never needs to know you were involved.  I can get in and out and we can get moving, which we need to do… now.”

She met his eyes for a moment, but it was long enough to drive the urgency home. They needed to be fast.  They had already been in the Watchtower longer than they wanted to be.  She looked around again, one last ditch effort to force the pieces of the puzzle together in a different way, to form a different picture, willing to steal pieces from other puzzles to make it happen.  But no matter how she tried, they only fit together in one disconcerting way.  “No,” she finally grumbled in defeat.  “It won’t work with you.  It has to be me.  And he’s not my boyfriend,” she added sharply, but the harshness was offset by the fact her eyes never left Superboy as he bustled around the Property Room.

Adrien scoffed but didn’t object further.  He followed her longing gaze.  “He’s going to come after us,” Adrien noted.  “He’s not just going to let us walk into that situation by ourselves.”

Ladybug hummed absently and looked between the charm and the door again. “There is something more,” she said slowly.  She looked around but couldn’t see it.  She couldn’t see how she was supposed to use it anyway other than the obvious and they were out of time to think of something else.  Her eyes fell to the Lucky Charm and the pieces fell into place.  “That’s it!”  She pulled it apart, taking out glowing green pieces and shoving them into Adrien’s hands.  “Place these along the doorway after I go in, outside the door.  They should act as a barrier to keep him in but let us out.”

“It won’t hold him for long,” Adrien warned her, eying them suspiciously.

“No,” she agreed.  “But it will slow him down long enough for Max to lock down the Watchtower and portal us to Connor.”

Adrien nodded in understanding, a relieved smile finally making its way to his lips.  They had a plan and with a plan, they could do anything.  “I’ll let Max know to be ready,” he responded.  Ladybug nodded and stowed the Charm in her yoyo as she mentally braced herself for her next steps.  “And Ladybug,” Adrien called, he waited until she’d turned to him before continuing and motioned toward her yoyo when she did, “make sure to angle it toward the camera so they can get a good look at it when the big guys review the footage later.”

Ladybug looked through the window at the security camera for a few moments before nodding in understanding.  “Thanks,” she murmured quietly.  She shot him a meek smile before making her way into the Property Room and pulling the door firmly closed behind her.  She leaned against the door for just a moment, just long enough to calm her heart down. Superboy would be instantly suspicious if her heart was racing.  It would be a sure indication that something was up.

Superboy’s head popped up immediately to greet her, his friendly smile turning sympathetic when he saw who it was.  “Hey, Ladybug. How are you doing?  How’s Chat?”

She smiled back instantly, a soft, placid smile, much more at ease than she felt. She bobbed her head to the side and slowly made her way toward him with measured, intentional, clearly unsuspicious steps. “He’s… worried,” she answered carefully. “Imagining all the things that are being done to the love of his life because of him.”

Superboy winced, well aware of what that felt like from the several times Marinette had been taken during a mission.  Not that she was… or rather, not that they were together, which did absolutely nothing lessen how he felt.  “They’re going to do everything they can for him, Mari,” he tried to assure her, genuine concern bleeding into his tone.  His arms flexed against the urge to hold her and ease away the frown lines marring her face. “Green Arrow is going crazy, too. He won’t rest until they’ve rescued Connor.  They’ll save him as quickly as possible.”

She hummed noncommittally.  They weren’t doing everything they could.  She knew they weren’t, because they weren’t letting her and Adrien help. They were intentionally keeping them out so they could control the situation, when she and Adrien were the only ones that could end it without Connor getting killed.  And the last element they needed was somewhere in the room. She just didn’t know where.

“I need to see the ring,” she finally blurted out.  As soon as the words came out, she had to fight the need to fidget.  The concern in his voice and the sorrowful look in his eyes were killing her.  They were almost enough to make her take it back and try yet again to piece the puzzle together another way.

“Sorry,” he shook his head sadly.  “I can’t. It’s being kept secure for everyone’s safety.”

She straightened up indignantly, his words knocking the regret out of her.  “I’m the guardian,” she nearly hissed at him. “It is literally my job to ensure the safety of all the miraculous, including that ring.  It is safest with me…” she narrowed her eyes and leaned back slightly, “well actually, it’s safest with Chat,” she snapped, “but after him, it’s safest with me.”

Superboy somehow managed to look more heartbroken for her, which was not the reaction Ladybug needed from him.  It was not a reaction that would help her resolve.  “I can’t, Ma… Ladybug.  Not only is it against orders, they have a plan.  They know what they’re doing.  If we change things up now, people are going to die.”

Ladybug took a slow breath to calm herself again.  Getting angry at Superboy not only wasn’t fair to him, but it also wouldn’t help her plan.  She needed to appear reasonable and rational.  “I just need to know it’s safe,” she tried, pouring all the level-headedness she didn’t feel into her words.

“It is perfectly safe,” he assured her indulgently, intentionally speaking slowly and patiently in the hopes that his calm might rub off on her.  He knew this would be hard for her and Adrien and he wished more than anything he could take away all of her stress or convince the other members to let them fight.  But since he couldn’t do that, all he was left with was reassure her about the ring’s safety.  “I saw it put in there myself,” he promised softly, “and I’ve been here since.  I made sure, Mari.  I made sure nobody touched it.  I made sure it was safe.”

Ladybug stuttered at the sincerity in his voice and eyes.  She tore her eyes from his before she did something dangerous. It felt like he had taken all the honesty she’d tossed out before walking in that room and added it to his already boundless amount.  She couldn’t keep seeing the sincerity in his eyes, the sincerity she was about to manipulate to her advantage.  The longer she met his eyes, the sharper the sting in her chest felt.  She needed to focus on the mission; rescue Connor and save the miraculous.

“Thank you, Jon.  But I need to see it.  I need to know.  You guys don’t have the experience.  You don’t know what can happen.  I’ve seen miraculous disappear seemingly into thin air; while someone was holding them, from the most secure place.  It doesn’t matter.  No place is really safe.”  She took a step closer and let her voice waver slightly, not entirely falsely.  “I need to know, Jon.  I need to see it.”

He let out a long breath and shook his head.  “M… Ladybug, you know I can’t let you near it.”

She almost jumped at the opening.  It was exactly what she needed; the crack in the defenses she could force open.  “I don’t need to be near it.  I just need to see it,” she promised.

Superboy pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at her for a few moments before he groaned and dropped his head down, ultimately nodding.  “Okay.  You can see it, but you can’t touch it.”

She nodded vigorously.  “Right. Okay.  That’s fine.  I won’t touch it.  I’ll just stay right over here.”

He eyed her for a moment to gauge her sincerity before nodding and turning to the wall of secured lockers, making his way to one in particular.  He smiled as he noted Ladybug’s heart-rate jump, knowing it would drop as soon as she could be reassured the ring was still there and that by showing her, he was doing something, even as small as it was, to relieve her anxiety.  The smile stayed on his lips for just a moment before dropping at the sound of a gun cocking, instantly realizing the spike in heartrate wasn’t because of her anxiety over the ring.

He snapped his head to Ladybug, and he let out a defeated sigh as he took in the sight of her holding a red gun with black spots, an ominous green lighting up the hand holding it.  He knit his brows together sympathetically.  “Mari, you don’t want to do this.”

She shook her head, keeping the gun trained at his chest and trying to stand to her full height like that could project a cold confidence and threatening aura against someone a good foot taller than her.  “You’re right, I don’t.  But I don’t have a choice.”

“You do.  You always do.”  He started to lift his foot to take a step toward her but faltered when she took a shaky step back.

“You’re right I do.  But if the choice is between making the JL happy and saving someone…” her lip trembled for just a moment, but she shook her head to shake away the emotion, “it’s never going to be the JL.”

He tilted his head empathetically.  “That’s not…”

“It is.”  She nodded as she spoke, desperately trying to keep the waver out of her voice but unable to hide the glassiness in her eyes.  “That’s the choice.  And get your hands up!  I’m threatening you here!”

He raised an eyebrow at her but raised his hands as requested.  “Mari…”  He took a step closer

“Stay back!”  She raised the gun at him, but her vision was getting obscured by the tears she was holding back.  He looked so distressed for her, and it made everything harder.  “I need that ring and if you won’t give it to me… I’ll shoot you… in the…” her eyes darted over his body trying to determine the least damaging location.  His leg was obvious, but she didn’t want any possibility of hitting his femoral artery plus his thighs were thick enough it might get lodged in his leg and she didn’t want kryptonite anywhere near him, let alone lodged in him.  But his arms… “…in the… in your forearm.  I won’t miss.  I’ve shot lots of people.”

He quirked his head to the side to assess her before shaking his head slowly. “No, you haven’t,” he said quietly.

“No, I haven’t,” she agreed, her voice broken.  The tears she had been holding back started falling freely at the look in his eyes.  The gun faltered in her hand as she lost focus on the mission and it.  “But Connor is… They don’t know what they’re up against. This is a miraculous matter and no matter what they think, they aren’t prepared.  It has to be us.  It has to be,” she repeated desperately, her eyes finding his, needing him to understand.  “And we need that ring.  We need it to save Connor.  We’re the only ones who can.”

Superboy reached out to hug her but clenched his fists instead.  He looked up at the ceiling in frustration and groaned loudly. He raised his arms grudgingly. “Come on then,” he pouted.  Ladybug furrowed her brow in confusion.  “Point the…” he motioned toward the gun with a huff. “Point the gun at me.”

Ladybug blinked at him a few times until realization set in.  She smiled gratefully for just a moment before schooling her features into a scowl and raising the gun.  “Back away from the ring,” she commanded.  Superboy grumbled but did as asked, taking several dramatic steps back, keeping pointed, grumpy eye contact with her the entire way.

She quickly opened the door for Adrien.  “It’s over there,” she said lowly and motioned to the open locker.  She had promised Superboy she wouldn’t touch the ring and she might be a thief and a backstabber, but she wasn’t a liar.

Adrien popped his head around the corner and took in the situation quickly. He nodded curtly at Superboy, barely sparing him a glance as he entered.  The ring was in his hand and he was back at the door in a moment.  He didn’t bother to put it on before grabbing Ladybug and pulling her toward the door as he spoke into his com.

Ladybug barely had time to glance back at Superboy ruefully before the Property Room doors slammed shut, lights flashed, and alarms blared.  They were gone through a silvery blue portal before the speakers announced, “Protocol Super Lockdown initiated.”

Superboy slammed against the door.  “Mari!  No! Don’t… Ladybug!  Let me help you!  Mar… Damnit!” He slammed his fist into the door that was unfortunately specially designed to withstand a hit from him or any other kryptonian.

><><><><><><><>< 

The weathered barn sat serenely against the landscape, its faded red blending harmoniously with the oranges and deep pinks of the sky, so vibrant, they were reflected in the matured wheat field as it stretched into the horizon until the two blended almost seamlessly. It was the kind of scene people paid good money to sit in front of for hours in an art museum.  It was a scene that had never failed to make her feel peaceful… until now.  It now mocked her with its perfection.

Instead of easing her anxiety, the sight caused her shoulders to tense and her chest to feel like it was being squeezed in a vice, because for her, it was a scene that was intrinsically linked with Jon and Jon was the root of her anxiety.  Or rather, how Jon was feeling since she’d betrayed him, and even more terrifying, how he felt about her.

With each step closer to the barn, the smile Marinette had adopted while chatting with Ma Kent for the past hour slowly dropped and her skin heated up a little bit more as if the barn was radiating heat, adding to the already warm summer air. By the time she arrived at the barn doors, her smile had dropped entirely, and sweat had started to bead along her skin.

She stood frozen in front of the doorway, an invisible barrier at the threshold, imaginary but no less difficult to transverse.  She took a breath and mentally chastised herself.  She was an adult, damnit.  A hero.  She could face the consequences of her actions and she could take a damned step.

The summer itself seemed to agree with her assessment as the light summer breeze picked up, causing her skirt to flutter around her legs as it blew her toward the barn, at the same time cooling her skin that she was trying to convince herself was heated purely from the day’s heat that hadn’t dissipated yet rather than her anxiety.  Because there was nothing to be anxious about.  It would be fine.  It would all be fine.  Good even. It would all be good.

She nodded to herself as if that sealed the statement into the fabric of reality and finally crossed the threshold into the barn before her nerves could hold her back.  It was just a single step, but it was enough.  The barrier was broken.  There was no turning back.  She was in it.  Philosophically and literally.

She stood just within the doorway, as her eyes adjusted to the change in light.  After a moment she was able to make out the parts and tools that lined the walls, the tractors and equipment parked around the floor and butted up against the walls on one side of the barn while baled and loose hay was spread out on the other.

She searched the barn anxiously for signs of Jon.  Martha had been certain he was in the barn, and Marinette would never question Martha’s intuition on her family… or anything else really.  A sudden clanking echoed through the barn pulling Marinette’s attention to the tractor.  She still couldn’t see him but took a few more timid steps into the barn as she edged closer to the tractor, still closer to the door than the tractor. “Jon?”

Jon’s head popped up from behind the tractor instantly.  “Yeah?”  It took a second for him to register it was her, but the moment it did his friendly smile warmed and his eyes softened.  She was standing perfectly centered in the doorway, silhouetted by the fading light, giving her the look of an approaching angel, come to bring complete contentment. “Hey, Mari.”

“Hey,” she waved back with a smile, the one she always had when he smiled at her. His smile just seemed to have that effect.  It was as if it were a law of physics.  She couldn’t break it.  She dropped her hand awkwardly when she realized she was still holding it up longer than was normal, but then the issue became where to put her hand because suddenly, everywhere seemed abnormal and wrong.  In fact, her entire body felt wrong, and it was utterly unnerving.

Jon had always made her feel at ease.  Always made her feel right.  Now, there was an awkwardness that had never existed before, and it was because of her, because of the strain she had put on their relationship.  What had always been natural and effortless was now tense and she didn’t know how to fix it.

Her eyes darted around the barn as if the old wooden beams or hay might give her an idea of a good sequitur.  But just like at the Watchtower, she got nothing.  But unlike the Watchtower, she wasn’t going to wait until something came this time.  She took a step closer and examined the tractor with almost authentic curiosity. “What are you working on?”

He motioned toward the area he had been working on as though Marinette could see anything more than his face from her position on the other side of the tractor. “Hydraulics are getting sluggish. I’m cleaning everything out for Ma and Pa.”

Marinette nodded, a small smile making its way back to her lips.  “That’s really nice of you.  It’s nice to see how you take care of them.”

He shrugged easily and turned back to the equipment in a failed attempt to hide his blush.  “Someone had to do it.  Ma and Pa are pretty busy, and I have some free time for a while.”

Marinette’s smile dropped as her heart clenched.  She looked down and fiddled with her fingers anxiously.  “Did you get into a lot of trouble?” she asked, her voice timid and quiet, just loud enough to carry in the almost silent barn.

His face pinched in confusion for a moment, because working on the tractor wasn’t a punishment, he actually enjoyed the practice of it and the feeling of accomplishment when he was done, before he realized what she meant.  His eyes widened quickly.  “No, no.  That wasn’t what I…  No.  I didn’t.”  He hedged when she cocked her head to the side disbelievingly.  “Well, I mean… kind of, but not really.  I just got grounded for a few weeks and I’m on watch duty for a while after I get back,” he assured her.  “It isn’t bad.”

Instead of relieving her, as he’d hoped it would, she seemed to grow smaller, and her face pinched with grief.  She flung her arms out in defeat.  “I'm so sorry,” she moaned.

He waved her off with a reassuring smile.  “It's okay.  Really.  It was more of a show than anything.  I don’t think anyone was actually upset by the time they got to issuing punishments. Once they calmed down, I think they realized they may have jumped the gun.  They know Bruce has a tendency to take control, even when he isn’t the best informed, Oliver was hardly in a position to be rational, and Arthur and Diana don’t exactly think straight when the miraculous gets involved,” he scoffed and threw the brush into the water bucket.  “Really, it was more to deter anyone else from ignoring their directives in the future than to punish me.”

“Plus,” he looked up with a sincere look and just a hint of a smile, waiting until she met his eyes before continuing, “it was the right thing to do.  And I hope I never fail to do the right thing just because I'm afraid of the consequences.”

Marinette smiled affectionately at him despite her guilt.  “You're a good man, Jonathan Kent.”

“I hope so,” he said softly, ducking down behind the tractor before she could see his blush.

“You are,” she confirmed.  She continued to watch where he had been for a few moments, her smile dropping as she hoped he would pop back up.  When he didn’t, she searched the barn again for something to say to relieve the awkwardness.  In the end, it was Jon that broke the silence.  

“So, how are you doing?  How is Adrien?  Is Connor recovering?”

She looked back and instantly felt her anxiety melt as she met his concerned gaze, a smile forming on her lips.  “Okay. We’re okay.  Or will be anyway,” she corrected lightly.  “The Miraculous Cure didn’t cure Connor because he was hurt before the miraculous was in play, they apparently thought that through, not using it until they had to, but luckily, he wasn’t hurt too badly.  We got there before they could do too much to him.

“He should make a full recovery and should be up and about in a few weeks. Honestly, I think it will take Adrien longer to recover than Connor.  He holds onto guilt like Scrooge McDuck holds onto gold.  I don’t think Adrien would let him out of their apartment for a few weeks even if he wasn’t hurt.”

Jon nodded a wide, genuine smile forming on his lips.  “I’m glad to hear it.  About Connor, I mean, not Adrien.  I was worried about him, but I couldn’t get much information.  I’m glad he has Adrien there taking care of him. He deserves it.”  He looked away nervously and ran his hand through his hair. “And you?  I heard…”

Marinette gave him a reassuring smile.  “Yeah, after everything that happened, we decided to take a cue from Connor and step back from the Justice League, moments before they kicked us out, I’m sure,” she chuckled.  “I think we work better as associates rather than members.”

He nodded in understanding.  “It’s not the right fit for everyone and I know you didn’t like having the miraculous out more than necessary.  But I’ll miss you,” he stated earnestly.  He looked over at her through his eyelashes in that devastatingly sincere way that always made her heart race and stutter at the same time. “I liked working with you.  My favorite partner.”  He looked around surreptitiously and lowered his voice.  “Don’t tell Damian,” he begged, only partially joking.

Marinette snickered.  “I won’t.  He’d take it out on me more than on you anyway.”  Jon cringed and nodded absently.  She wasn’t wrong.

“And we can still work together,” she assured him with a smile as she leaned onto the tractor to see him better, moving a white rag that was laying on the top to give herself that extra few centimeters. She pouted when she was still too short to see much more than his face.  “I just won’t be assigned through the JL anymore.  I suspect I’ll still get called in frequently though… unofficially.  I don’t think Zatara was happy about us leaving.”

Jon nodded at the idea, considering his options.  He’d actually rather spend time with her outside of missions but considering how often he was away on a mission, having her come with him gave him more time with her, and he’d gladly take any and all the time with her he could get.  But, if Zatara could get her on his missions, and he was sure Constantine and Zatanna would too considering how often they worked together already, then the old guard could hardly object to him bringing her on as well.

Marinette watched as his face worked through a series of emotions, none of which seemed happy, and the sudden realization hit her.  He may have enjoyed working with her before, but that was before.  Before she betrayed him.  Before she used him.  Everything was different now.  “I mean, if you would still want to.  You probably don’t anymore…”

Jon’s eyes softened.  “Mari…”

“It’s okay if you don’t.  I promise I won’t be upset.  I mean I will, but not at you.  You deserve to be upset.  At me. You forgive so easily and you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t forgive what I did to you, the way I used you.  You’re such a good man and you mean so much to me and I'm sorry I used to it against you,” she continued, her feet seemingly suddenly of extreme interest, her shoulders sagged, and her head bowed so low he couldn’t see her over the tractor.  “I manipulated you.  I was terrible to you.”

Jon couldn’t stand to hear the guilt in her voice, so thick it was almost palpable.  “Marinette,” he started, exasperation edging into his tone.  She always did this to herself and he always wished he could make her see the truth, but he didn’t know if he was ever really successful at it.

He moved around the tractor to stand in front of her.  He tried to urge her chin up to meet his eyes, but she refused.  “You didn't use it against me.  You can't use doing the right thing against someone who wants to do the right thing.  You didn't force me to do something bad and convinced me it was right.  You presented me with the facts and let me make my own decision.  That's the opposite of using it against me.  That's the opposite of manipulating.”

“I held a gun to your chest,” she pointed out flatly with a sharp glare before quickly returning her gaze to her feet.  “That isn’t exactly letting you make your own decisions.”

“It was a gun,” he repeated in the same flat tone. “It wasn’t going to hurt me, and I knew it.”  He patted his chest, hoping to encourage her to lift her glance to him. “Invulnerable, remember?”  He shot her a charming smile just in case she finally acquiesced and looked at him, only slightly pouting when she didn’t.

Marinette scoffed and looked back up again but only barely raised her gaze, no higher than his knees, to him before dropping them back down to her shoes.  “It was a Lucky Charm, Jon.  It had kryptonite bullets.”

He chuckled at her and eased his hands into his pockets.  “No, it didn’t.  Did you think they were?”

Her widened eyes and snapped to his.  “They were glowing green.  That’s why I didn’t want you to get close.  I wanted you as far from the kryptonite as possible.  We even put some at the door to keep you from leaving the room!”

“Exactly!  It was glowing,” he pointed out, amusement glinting in his eyes.  “If it was exposed enough to glow, it would be exposed enough for me to feel the effects, which I didn’t.  I knew you couldn’t hurt me.  And I knew you wouldn’t even if you could.  It did help though, with the punishment.  They saw the green and thought it was kryptonite too.”

She searched his eyes, finding them full of sincerity, as they always were.  As he always was.  She was so focused on his eyes, she missed the way he ran his hand through his hair mussing it up in that always made her heart speed up, or the way he was lightly wetting his lips as he met her gaze, or the way his fingers ghosted over her jaw so close he could feel her heat, but not making contact.  “I couldn’t have hurt you?” she asked, her voice wavering in uncertainty.

“No, you couldn’t have.”  He smiled gently, his fingers finally making contact and caressing her jaw.  “Not even if they were kryptonite, because you couldn’t.”

“I still feel bad,” she said shaking her head and scrunching her eyes.

Jon chuckled.  “And do you know why?”  He paused as he waited for her to meet his eyes again, only continuing once she had. “Because you’re a good person too. You feel bad even when you don’t do anything wrong.  If Adrien hold onto guilt like Scrooge with his gold, you hold onto it like a writer, if it isn’t written already, you’ll create it for yourself.”

“But, you shouldn’t…”  She shook her head, breaking eye contact and dropping her gaze slightly only to be met with a bare chest.  The noise she let out as she jumped back couldn’t quite be described as a squeak, but no other word quite described it better.  “Where is your shirt?”

“What?”  He looked down and seemed to just notice his lack of shirt.  “Oh.  It’s hot out and hotter in the barn.”  He reached past her, his arm grazing her shoulder as he grabbed his white shirt off the tractor behind her and pulled it on.  “Better?”

Marinette intently watched his every move, unable to look away from the shirt as it strained over his shoulders and pectorals.  It hung loose otherwise but sweat quickly caused the shirt to cling to his abs as well.  “Barely,” Marinette scoffed, looking away quickly because she was wrong before.  The barn wasn’t the one emitting heat, it was clearly Jon and his flawless chest and abs, sharp jaw, and radiant yet tender eyes, and being in his vicinity was making her unbearably warm and her mind incapable of coherent thought.  “But, you… um… you shouldn’t… what was I saying?”

Jon’s eyes shone as he noted the heat rising in her cheeks and the increased heart rate, a playful grin spread on his lips.  “What's the matter, Starshine?  Something distracting you?”

Marinette narrowed her eyes and pouted at his teasing.  It was completely unfair!  He had no idea how sexy he was!  Which made him even sexier.  She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted away from him.  “Don't be so smug!  You would be distracted too if I was shirtless.”

Jon’s eyes jolted open wide as unbidden, but definitely welcome images flooded his mind.  He flushed a brighter red than his cape all the way from his hairline to his well chiseled chest.  Nonsensical, sputtering sounds the only thing he was capable of as he gaped at her.

Marinette turned back to him in confusion until her words finally registered and she flushed a matching red to his.  “Wait.  No.  That’s not…”

Jon recovered first, bringing his thoughts back to the present situation in which the woman he loved more than anything else in the universe just admitted that she cares deeply about him and was flustered by seeing him shirtless.  It was not a situation he was going to let pass without at least trying.

He stepped closer to her until he was towering over her, a gentle, loving look in his eye.  “You distract me in a parka, Starshine.  You know that pink fluffy marshmallow looking one?  You look absolutely adorable in it, and I can’t focus when you’re waddling around in it.”  He chuckled at her resulting pout.  “Just knowing you’re near me is enough to distract me.  Damian growls about it all the time.  He’s hit me more for getting distracted by you than the entire rest of our relationship, including the time when he hated me.”  He shrugged helplessly.  “I just… I can’t help it.”

His eyes traced over her face as though he hadn’t already memorized every curve and freckle before settling on her eyes, the dreamy look in them bolstered his courage, because he was confident she still didn’t understand how he felt about her, what he would do for her.  He took a half step closer, gently cupping her face with one hand and working his fingers into her hair with the other.  “I’m not as good a person as you think,” he murmured.

Marinette blinked a few times, trying to figure out where that comment came from and how it related to what he had been saying.  “Oh?” she finally prompted.

“I would have done it anyway,” he admitted quietly, his voice deeper than it had been before.  

Marinette quirked her head to the side, which had the added benefit of nestling her face further into his touch. “What?”

“I would have helped you anyway, even if it wasn't the right thing.  Because you asked.  And I'd do anything for you.”  His voice warm but firm, affection bleeding through.  “No matter the consequences.”

She blinked at the admission.  “No, you wouldn't have,” she stated with confidence.

“Marinette,” he groaned quietly, helpless exasperation lacing his words again as he closed the remaining distance until his chest was brushing hers, “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

“I do understand,” she insisted as she grasped his forearms.  “But it isn’t true.  You wouldn’t have.  You couldn’t live with yourself if you intentionally did something to hurt someone else. You’re a good man to your core. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

Jon blinked at her, a hopeful smile tugging his lips up.  “Love?”

“I, um.”  She tried to take a step back, but Jon wasn’t about to let her go after that admission.

“Because I love you, Marinette.  I have for a while,” he professed.  His thumbs were caressing her jaw and cheek with such soft reverence she almost couldn’t register his words.  “I don’t know when it changed from platonic to romantic, but it did.  I still want to spend every moment with you, but now I want other things too.  I want to take you on a date.  I want to kiss you.  I want to hold you, when you’re sleepy, when you’re scared, when you’re sad. Celebrate with you when you’re happy. I want to curl up next to you at night and wake up next to you in the morning.  I just… I want you, however you’ll let me have you.”

She looked up at him in awe, her mouth slightly ajar.  “Does it have to be in that order?” she finally asked after a while, when her mind was able to form words again.  “Could it… be rearranged?” she continued when he looked confused.  “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.  Could we start with the kiss?”

Jon moved almost before Marinette could see his movement, pausing just centimeters from her lips to search her eyes with a heavy, half-lidded gaze.  As fast as his initial movement was, it seemed to take forever for him to cross the rest of the distance, until Marinette couldn’t stand it anymore and pushed up to finally make contact.  Their lips just barely touched with a gentle brush at first as though verifying that it was real, sweet and innocent.

The initial contact barely lasted a moment before they pulled away.  Marinette grinned and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth looking up at him bashfully.  Jon could barely take his eyes away from the abused plump lip.  He moved his thumb to gently pull it out, taking a moment before he raised his eyes again to meet hers, darker now and entrancing.

They both seemed to move at the same time.  Marinette wound her arms around his neck and pulled herself up to him while Jon wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down.  Their lips clashed together harsher than they meant, but Jon quickly massaged her lips with his own soft lips to ease the pain.  She hummed appreciatively as the feeling of his lips and arms holding her against his body trilled through her.  Her fingers worked up into his hair in a silent plea to keep the same pressure, not to end it just yet.

He almost groaned at the sensation, curling his fingers into her hips as he kept her close, his own petition to continue to let him explore the new, delightful sensations assaulting his senses.  He’d imagined how it would feel to kiss her, but even his most indulgent imaginings didn’t do the real thing justice.  The real thing was effervescent, familiar yet foreign, giving him a sense of home.

They pulled away again just far enough for Marinette to see Jon’s smile and Marinette knew without a doubt that was the source of all warmth and happiness. “I love you too, you know,” she breathed against his lips.  “I love you and I’ve wanted all those things you said and more for so long I just didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Her adoring smile was almost enough to make him melt. “You never could,” he whispered back. He tightened his grip around her waist as if to prove his point and leaned forward to resume their prior activities but before he could make contact, Ma Kent’s voice cut through the silence.

“Jon!  Dinnertime!”

Jon and Marinette chuckled at the same time and continued to gaze into each other’s eyes until Marinette couldn’t take it anymore and looked away shyly.  Jon continued to watch her for a few moments before coming to a decision.  He squared his shoulders and opened his mouth to ask an important question, but before he could Ma Kent’s voice cut in again.  “And make sure to bring that sweet little girlfriend of yours!”

He groaned and dropped his head back for a moment. When he looked back, Marinette was shaking with suppressed laughter.  “She always knows what I’m thinking,” he joked, but his expression quickly turned shy. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Marinette grinned brilliantly and nodded excitedly. The sudden tension in her shoulders was the only warning Jon had before she launched herself at him in a tight hug. “Yes!”

Jon let out a whoop and twirled her around ending it with a chaste kiss.  “Come on. She’ll be merciless with her teasing if we don’t hurry.”

They walked back to the house slowly, extending the short trip as long as they could while still moving forward, Marinette tucked into his side like she belonged there, which to him, she did.  It felt more than right for her to be there, it felt destined, like the universe itself created them to fit together like that.  One thought kept recurring in his head as he reveled in the feel of her; she had been wrong.  He would do anything for her.  He may be a good man, but he would be willing to damn his soul for her. He just prayed nothing ever happened to make him prove it.

#maribat #marijon #Shamelessly inspired by a scene from Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries

[mormonbooks]

Daughter of the Deep Review

Alright, it's been a little while since I finished this book but I'm finally writing the review.

4/5 stars!

This book is by Rick Riordan, and while he's not a member of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints -- so this book doesn't technically fit my "by mormons about mormons" criteria -- I wanted to include this book because it's one of the only pieces of mainstream media that has casual mormon rep that I've ever heard of.

Summary - Ana Dakaar's freshman finals trip gets turned into a life-death situation when Harding-Pencroft (the school she and her friends attend) is destroyed. The freshmen are the only ones left standing and they discover that there is more to their school than they originally thought -- Captain Nemo from 1000 Leagues Under the sea (also known as Prince Dakaar) was a real person, and their school was built to honor his memory and continue researching the incredibly advanced naval and marine technology that he had invented. Ana has to trust her friends Esther, Nelinha, and Gemini (as well as herself) while they try to win a war they never realized they were a part of.

Gemini Twain is the only Mormon character and he is great. Spoilers under the cut.

Well written - 5 Stars.

Listen, it's Rick Riordan. He's good at writing, what am I gonna say?

2. Fun Level - 5 Stars.

The story is just jam packed with fun and entertaining moments and ideas. The advanced technology is intriguing and silly at the same time, the characters are engaging and their relationships are fun! I had a great time jumping from suspenseful action moments, to heartfelt friendships, to tender introspection, and back to silly sci-fi. It's just a blast.

3. Complex Faith - 4 Stars.

Gemini's faith isn't explored very much, because he's not a POV character. That being said, he is one of the main characters that Ana interacts with, and we get hints that his relationship to his religion is complex. His parents are hippies, and he never knew them because he was raised by his grandmother. She is the one who introduced him and his brother to the church. His brother is on a mission, and Gemini is the only Mormon at HP. He's a really lonely kid. We don't get the sense that he's close with a faith community in the area. Although we don't know Gemini's personal relationship with God, his backstory makes him a unique enough Mormon character (basically, not a Peter Priesthood) that I think he warrants a high score in this regard.

4. Homophobia Scale - 4 Stars.

There is absolutely no romance in this book. I know people like the ship Ana and Gem and there is certainly room for that (and the difference in religion would be interesting to explore) but there is also room for all the characters to be ace, or literally whatever. So, while there are no gay characters, there are also no straight characters. Everyone is just ... trying not to die actually.

5. Mormon Weird - 1 star.

Because Gemini isn't a POV character, we don't get a lot of Mormon specific things. There is a moment where Gemini unthinkingly talks to a Nelinha (who is from Brazil) about his brother who is on a mission in Brazil, as if Nelinha would somehow know his brother even though Brazil is a huge place, which seems like a specifically Mormon Moment to me (in an affectionately, "Oh yikes, we do that don't we" way), but yeah. Not a lot of Mormon Weird included in this book.

6. Diversity of Characters - 5 stars!

Ana - Indian American, Hindu, multilingual (English, Irish, ASL, Bundeli, etc)

Nelinha - Brazilian, bilingual (English, Portuguese)

Esther - European American, Autistic (and written very well from my opinion), has an Emotional Support Dog

Gemini Twain - African-American, Mormon,

Plus lots of other characters who show up throughout the novel, all with their own backstories, ethnicities, and personalities. I love them all.

7. Other Problematic Stuff - 5 stars

Nothing to report. It was just great.

Conclusion - Please read this book!! It's just so much fun, the cast is so great, the world is fascinating, and the plot is engaging. I love Gemini Twain with all of my heart and I want everyone else to know and love him too. It's also just so refreshing to read a book that acknowledges our existence, and allows a Mormon to be one of the heroes in a sci-fi story, just like ... casually. I love him.

I said in my goodreads review that:  "I didn't necessarily see myself in Gem, but I saw all the boys I grew up with in Sunday School, the guys I served my mission with, and the men I met at BYU." He's a good one.

#mormon representation #gemini twain #daughter of the deep #rick riordan #review #church of jesus christ of latter-day saints

[gemsofgreece]

Some complain that we should make a Greek song for Eurovision but we already had one in 2018, but we were disqualified even though it was a pretty song. Maybe because it a soft ballad or something but it was something to send a song in our native language.

But i think we should start first...voting for the candidates who will represent us and second mix both traditional and modern rhythms.

Bre make a Pontiac song and see how much on top we would be, would make the whole crowd dance 😉

Oh my God Anon 😂😂😂 You are young, right? Or started watching Eurovision recently? This is not condescending, I just want to cheer you up. I am asking because Greece retains a honorary title of being a Eurovision powerhouse due to its mostly consistent success throughout 2001- 2013. In all those years, almost all the songs that succeeded had either Greek music or both Greek music and lyrics. The 2014-2019 dry spell had mostly entirely English songs except for two, which had very bad performances. The 2021-2022 successes made people hopeful that Greece was coming back but long time fans complained that Greece should also return to its authentic sounds.

When it comes to the 2018 song, have you watched the stage performance???? I think even Victor two days ago was better than Yanna, and that says a lot! It had nothing to do with the song or the language or it being soft. She sang terribly and supposedly her whole freaking equipment for the staging was stuck at the customs and never arrived at Eurovision (that’s what she said)!!!Have you ever heard of such an occurrence before? 😂 One more suspicious person would say there were barely any ideas for the staging at all and she had no better way of excusing it.

Despite all that, the public did keep her in, albeit barely, and gave her the 10th place. She was murdered by the juries who gave her the 16th place and disqualified her. Here’s the thing though: Yanna accused the juries and the production in general of a sabotage. This might sound crazy but something shitty DID happen. There is a point in the song, during the chorus, where fireworks pop. However, inexplicably during the jury show, the technicians chose to randomly shoot the fireworks during the very calm verse. This was so out of place it was visibly wrong, it wasn’t like a detail you won’t even notice. The Greek team requested that the performance should be repeated, since it was the crucial jury show and it was the technicians’ fault, but the production refused and asked the juries to vote based on what they saw, a decision that was criticised by Greeks and other fans of the song alike.

So as you see here not only the singing is atrocious but as if this was not enough, they really just randomly shot the fireworks to her face. I honestly have no idea what happened but this was the unluckiest song we have sent. It was a gorgeous song that did not deserve either Yanna’s live vocals and her lousy team or the problematic production there. And the fact the audience tried to keep it in was solely the song’s and the language’s achievement as there is not any other redeeming quality in this participation unfortunately.

This is a topic I feel strongly about because I loved this song and I had a lot of faith in it and it still hurts. But also - regarding the language thing - it’s a myth, not only for Greek but for all languages I think. It was true in the past, when only English or French songs would win, but ever since 2010s people want diverse songs and more languages. The juries are worse on that but the public does want the ethnic element.

And to prove it, I once made a very passionate analysis on how Greek entries performed and the conclusion was that on average a song that was either fully Greek or at least in a Greek music style performed better than a totally English song. Again, on average. Here’s the link to the analysis:

And then I saved for last a stab to your heart… We have sent a song in Pontic Greek… and it is the third one that flopped 😅😅😅😅😅😅 The notorious Utopian Land by Argo, fam! But it was a bad song, even though I see on You Tube it has developed something like a cult following.

But in stark contrast, Alcohol is Free was a totally Greek song in everything (with freaking rebetiko) and it finished 6th (and 2nd in its semi) . And the reason it didn’t make it to the top 5 was that some hysteric people were clutching their pearls at the title, whining “how they would allow their kids to watch Eurovision now”. I have some very deep into esc stuff friends from Europe and I know for a fact that this was the case with some people. And yet it ended up sixth and some considered it an injustice, which it was, because it should have won, seriously. Oh yeah, I forgot, it would make it in the top 5 in spite of all that, had it not been for the juries. The public voted it 4th and the juries 14th and it ended up 6th. Similarly, Watch My Dance by Loukas Yorkas was half in Greek and it ended 7th (and notoriously 1st in its semifinal, ahead of the Eurovision winner of the year, Azerbaijan, which does raise questions about the final results - see the link above with the analysis). Interestingly, the only criticism I saw the song ever receiving was by people complaining that the whole song should be like the Greek laiko in the chorus and diss the English rap in the verse. Another example, OPA by Yorghos Alkeos, which was also entirely in Greek and finished 8th.

Now an ethnic Greek entry and a cheerful one at that will certainly be butchered by the juries, like they did with the Ukrainian Shum or the Finnish Cha Cha Cha and our own Alcohol is Free. But who cares? Better be butchered by the juries and be loved by the public, than going with bland and bad English ballads that only the juries might like and nobody else. The people have made clear what songs they want from Greece. And in any case, I would rather suck by sending something from my culture that others may simply not get than suck by sending something that doesn’t even represent me in any way.

I know you agree by the way, you just touched a sensitive chord in my heart and I went full rant mode 😇

#greece #Eurovision #Greece in Eurovision #eurovision song contest #esc #Greek facts #anon #mail