#but it is disingenuous for the simple fact that it only happened because of will

[chirpsythismorning]

Welcome to a series I'm calling:

Yes, that scene did foreshadow Mike's monologue was disingenuous

Because you'd be surprised how many times the show (even prior to s4) has poked fun at Mike's monologue in the most random ways.

The Bingham's Beautiful Performance

First we have Suzie's sister on the floor, bedazzled and sporting a veil all while her brother is filming. This is basically the kids attempting to present a tale of a romance ending in gruesome tragedy.

Our bride here is El. The edition of the veil could be a nod to the loud majority's series long assumption that Mike and El are going to end the show together, preferably getting married.

Unfortunately, this is the closest thing they'll ever get to it, with the acknowledgement of that possibility in and of itself being mocked.

This next shot makes the likelihood that these scenes are connected pretty much indisputable, that being the edition of the record player behind the bride's head.

The only reason they made a point of having Will push the radio out of El's way, was to subtly connect this moment in Surfer boy to the beautiful performance we saw at the Bingham's only a few episodes prior (scenes that are widely known to be filled with foreshadowing for the season's ending).

A few bylers have already talked about these parallels, so this isn't new knowledge per say. But I do know some have dropped it altogether as possible foreshadowing for whatever reason, while most fans outside of the byler fandom insist it only foreshadowed Eddie's death. However, I think there are too many details that equally, if not more connect it to Mike's monologue than to Eddie's death.

Some fans have also noticed how Will was missing in quite a few shots at the Bingham's, which is interesting, but not all that surprising. Especially in this case...

Will. Will is the director

Director Will: GET THAT RADIO OUT OF MY SHOT!

Will directed the monologue when he used his feelings to inspire Mike, with the reminder of it (literally in the moment) directing Mike to confess to El, just like Suzie's brother directed that beautiful performance. Both performances convincingly left its audience thinking that the performers feelings in that moment were believable and...

genuine...

#byler #stranger things #byler theory #the binghams #what really gets me is that the script for the monologue implies it did work #but this scene (along with many other scenes throughout the show) make a nod to the fact that it couldn't have possibly worked #by making a literal play by play of it being a performance with a fucking director giving commentary in the background #later the scene outright uses the word genuine to describe suzie's dad (who parallels mike) #and therefore makes the connection to mikes monologue being disingenuous #mike's monologue could be disingenuous for a layer of reasons #but it is disingenuous for the simple fact that it only happened because of will #there are several scenes in the show that make fun of this concept of mike's monologue not working #some in s3 with one in particular from that season being a little too on the nose #but also more moments throughout s4 that also poke fun at it #to be continued

[year2000electronics]

PLEASE say more about the fandom demonization of Branch's brothers cuz I feel the same. I've been dying for some nuance in this house

OH I VERY GLADLY WILL. i’ve said my piece about how brozone was in a COMPLETELY different situation than branch due to being teens or young adults when he was a baby and how being locked into a career you’re starting to hate your role in while being bossed around by your big brother who is acting like your BOSS, and how damaging that is for your own self image and how it’s so much harder feeling trapped in your life at that age instead of at branch’s age, but i feel like something people also don’t think about is like. the doylist thing. (doylist: reasoning for something to be happening that is about real-world actions and intent, not the canon lore)

which is just the very simple fact that… of course branch’s brothers had to disappear and go no-contact for 20 years, because branch did not mention them in the first two trolls movies and it would be weird if he didn’t for any other reason. it’s the same w king peppy, where he accidentally becomes WAY worse by not mentioning the genre trolls and viva when like. it HAD to be a secret otherwise why was none of it mentioned in trolls 1? time travel isn’t real yet so we can’t retroactively foreshadow any of this

BUT since trolls is a Fandom and since fandom is inclined to take things very seriously about media i don’t think that matters to people a lot haha so i guess at the end of the day, to me it feels a little disingenuous when people only focus on branch’s trauma in the situation because i feel like it’s a far more interesting thing for branch to see their side of the story too! not necessarily for insta-forgiveness but me personally i like writing the brozone era where branch is oblivious to the fact that yeah, it DIDNT just all end in one bad show, which is branch’s perspective (maybe why he’s so bitter, too- to him things were perfect until they weren’t) but instead how brozone was slowly putting cracks in the brothers’ relationship and how things were slowly and slowly getting worse until it snapped, and at that point they just HAD to leave. like the dramatic tension of the brothers needing to escape their own horrible situation they’ve made vs “oh yeah you have a baby brother oops” vs the bros leaving BEFORE TROLLSTICE WAS EVEN A THING (don’t argue w me on this i have proof) so they think leaving him with grandma, his LEGAL GUARDIAN, was the best decision!!!!

it’s all just so JUICY and it makes me a little sad when people are like “i think branch should get to yell at his brothers for 13 hours straight. i think they should Suffer for what They Did” because the full situation is so much more intriguing than that

#mothra answers #trolls

[trainzelda]

When people talk about jobs being "lost to AI" it's usually in the context of either work that can be replicated by AI, such as art, voices, and simple programming tasks, or it's taking place in some hypothetical future where AI is more capable than it is today. But these aren't the only types of jobs that are being lost due to corporate interest in AI. Even ones that you would think are "safe" are often on the chopping block to make room for it.

Imagine this: you're, idk, a marketing director at a big tech company. Your job is managing humans; it's not something an AI could do if it wanted to. But the company you work for is excited about the future of AI, and wants to start developing AI Software. To do this, they're going to need to hire 1000 new AI researchers. Where do they get the money for those new hires? Simple; they lay off 1000 people working on low-priority projects, or teams that can afford to downsize. Oops, that means your job is gone.

This has already happened in a lot of companies; Salesforce, Oracle, Google--Look up any company that's shifted majorly into AI and you'll find massive layoffs in other departments in the past few years. I'm pretty confident this is the story for most of the tech companies that have had massive layoffs in the last year. These companies aren't downsizing, in fact most of them will end up bigger by the end of the year than they were before the layoffs. It's not about saving money in the short term; they're trying to fundamentally pivot in another direction.

I know I'm being a bit disingenuous when I say "AI killed these jobs," because you could replace "AI" with any emerging trend in any industry, and you'll see the same story of massive layoffs to make room for the company to chase that trend. It's just how businesses work. The difference is that this one seems like it might be here to stay, and the effects are being felt majorly throughout the tech industry moreso than any of the other big tech trends in recent years.

[conduitandconjurer]

Truly loving someone with all your heart is surrendering every weekday and weekend, every morning, afternoon, and evening, late late evening, to caring for them; it is worrying about them the entire time you are “taking five” from that care, and deciding to just go back to monitoring them before you lose your mind; it is battling for them on the “fields” of apathetic doctors and social workers and disingenuous insurance companies for hours, days, knowing an inarticulable rage toward people who claim to be a “care team” and don’t do their job; it is watching them shrink before your eyes with malnutrition and disease; it is your heart breaking when they look at you with fear and confusion for safety, stability, and hope, when that was exactly what they brought you for nearly 40 years, and you must pretend you have any left; it is trying to remember that when you change the bloody dressing or insist they eat or take their meds or sit, and they look at you with absolute fury and tell you to “leave them alone,” it’s not really them saying it, and in a half hour when the med kicks in, they’ll be themselves again.  It’s coping with the fact that this is almost worse than never having those good intervals, because you never know when it’ll go away again, and every healthcare professional has made sure you know it’ll “only get worse.” It is being glad there is time left even though almost everything about it is slowly (but literally, by worsening your own progressive chronic illness) killing you.  The people who don’t understand what it is to be a caretaker are quick to offer platitudes. The people who do, say very little, because they know there is nothing they can say anyway. Either way, it’s lonely, and it’s exhausting, forcing yourself never to look before or beyond the scope of the current day and its many, many battles. 

What amazes me is that I am living all my worst fears. All of them. Every single highly specific one.  Almost nothing else scares me now because nothing could happen to me that would hurt more than this. I don’t know if it’s shock or nihilism or simple survival at this point. 

#ooc #so that's what's going on bts as it were) #i figure klaus would understand) #parent illness cw #illness cw #illness tw #terminal illness cw #terminal illness tw #vent

[proofofburden]

You Do Not Have a Right to Feel Safe

I am looking at a quote from a WaPo Editorial that says, "Washingtonians have a right to feel and be safe. At the moment it would be hard to say its the case." In the interest of arguing in good faith, the piece is paywalled and if the quote is misleading or unrepresentative of the thesis, I'm open to hearing it, but I don't think I'm being outright unfair analyzing it given that it went to press at a national paper! And I emphatically disagree!

This feels---meta---like the sort of claim that makes sense. After all, we all know the sort of person who screeches "facts don't care about your feelings" completely devoid of empathy, context, or a basic understanding of how the world works. Taking empathy and our fellow citizens seriously means taking "I feel unsafe" seriously, and I agree that people feeling like crime is out of control is a problem in its own right.

The thing that no one wants to hear about their own feelings, however, is that they are plausibly unfounded. There's a world where Ben Shapiro is a public intellectual who comments with empathy, an eye for context, and an acute understanding of the world and he often picks apart left and right wing abuses of appeals to feelings. Because the thing is, a lot of people have absolutely unhinged expectations about crime. There are white women who believe there are vast rings of people surveilling them and waiting for one false move to kidnap them through schemes like luring them to look at an abandoned car seat in a Target parking lot in broad daylight. The male-coded version of this belief is that gangs of criminals are a gun away from breaking into your house in the middle of the night to steal or rape or murder. If you feel unsafe because of those fantasies, that's about you and your judgement, not about some inviolable right to feel safe! Appealing to Congress to make you feel better about a problem that was made up, that you don't really understand, and whose only material harm is that in your imagination bad things might happen is bad, actually.

Now, things are obviously not this simple. It would be disingenuous for me to pretend that the only dimension to the crime panic is about fear mongering, and even more disingenuous for me not to point out that WaPo also pointed to a right to "be safe". Nonetheless, American's opinion of crime is frequently divorced from reality, and that's compounded by the fact that Americans don't always understand how to interpret crime data. Both sources there show there are real policy questions and as far as the WaPo piece engages with them, it's a fair part of the public discourse. But by appealing to a right to "feel" safe, WaPo is taking the emphasis off material safety and putting it on the feelings of grown adults who may not have much cause to worry about the crime statistics personally yet do. Even if it isn't the only dimension to WaPo's point, it is an indefensible one. It is one thing to say that it's hard to prevent Americans from taking these feelings out on the President, but it is another to enable it by saying they directly have a "right" for Congress to soothe their feelings about crime even if it won't work.

Because the stakes here are not tiny. It's measured in the years of many persons' freedom, the resources to feed and house them, and the ripple effect that has through their families and their communities. Imagine going to someone's trial and saying, "I am a disinterested party, but I think you should spend more time in prison on shoplifting charges because I worry a lot about someone breaking into my house." Yet, relying on the feelings of the citizenry here is to do just that, but institutionalized through our government. One need not be an abolitionist nor even especially anti-carceral to find that uncomfortable; likewise, those enthusiastic about prison should be able to make their case without relying on the the whims of the public that may or may not be grounded reality. Prison is a serious abridgement of peoples' rights and even when we agree it is justified it should be treated as a serous act with serious moral implications to be undertaken for reasons that can be seriously justified. "Some voters feel like the law could be harsher", should be treated like demanding others be be thrown in jail to make them feel better and when put that nakedly, the error becomes obvious.

[vro0m]

In this era of cars, the skill gap is smaller than its ever been. some may disagree but that’s my just my opinion. it’s why these ex drivers can come across bitter sometimes (imo) With these telemetries made public you can see how close great drivers are. George and lewis , of course one fan base is going to think the other is better, that’s their job as fans and end of the day we don’t know, but both drivers are close. in fact a lot of teams without the obvious no 1 driver have close pairings. what separates them again imo is race craft, experience, how they attack corners, deliver under pressure which i guess all at the end of the day falls under race craft and experience.

Lando’s sprint lap was great in the longer radius corners, Lewis braked excessively into the last corner which imo gave him more time in the final hairpin. different techniques, diff times gained at different parts of the track but both great laps with the cars they were given. it looks like i’m losing my point lmao but what i’m trying to say is there’s an explanation for every gain and loss.

Something people are not pointing out in all this is before Quali, George struggled all weekend. During the sprint race, lewis struggled with T14 and he said immediately after the sprint race he was going to make setup changes and see (we don’t know if it was for T14 specifically but let’s assume) he then made a mistake there in Quali after the setup changes. Did he make them cuz of those changes, we don’t know. All we have are messages passed to us as couch engineers trying to make sense of the lap times through that because he was down 4 tenths to george. Come on. why’re people talking like after a good sprint, qualified ahead of the Astons which have been faster than us and two red bulls, people should just swallow lewis suddenly being 4 tenths off his teammate.

I think it’s also very disingenuous for everyone (press, fans even pundits) to make it seem like there’s some crazy conspiracy going on in his garage or he’s lying when at the surface level it looks to me like they just don’t know what to do with a very unpredictable car. Maybe it’s their fault for always mentioning setup to the public but atm we, the public, don’t have enough data points for now to not atleast consider that it could actually be just as simple as that…the setups. When we have more data points then we can debate all of this no?

My stance is it's only retrospectively that we're able to put a somewhat coherent picture of what happened together. Even then half of it will still be theory and speculation.

However, we're not gonna sit in silence til the end of the season so I get that there's gonna be discourse in the meantime and I will gleefully take part in it lol

#but yes a lot of it is down to the car being bad at the end of the day and both drivers having different attitudes towards that imo #vro0m's asks

[thirtyoneflirtingnoneanddying]

11.21

Yeah wtf. You know I gotta put it down for posterity.

This weekend was honestly beautiful. My time with Olivia was restorative. Our talks are easily top tier. We both just…..get it. Those are simple ass terms for something so deep but like, words don’t touch the depth so I’ll leave it at that.

Speaking of words not touching the depths.

I TRULY energetically have never felt like anyone was more right for me than Tre. Which is very hard to come up against as literally nothing about it—other than he and I—seems easy at all. This all is really freaky. No one has ever looked at me the way he has and it’s so remarkable the similarities between him and the love in my dreams. That person looked at me exactly like Tre does, and that only gets truer with time. I mean, Tre said the fucking password. HE SAID IT. He said the UNSPOKEN ASS PASSWORD THAT I HAVE NEVER UTTERED TO ANYONE. Never aloud. NEVER aloud.

It’s scary. I don’t want to be wrong. We know I have been to the fullest extent. But I think before, I hadn’t learned those lessons yet. And I think now that I am aware I could be wrong sharpens the intuitive part of it. It makes the feeling that I could very well be right even stronger in a way.

The smallest things tell me. Not only all the future planning, but the future fear. The fact that he could say that one day I could get sick of him and then argue that it would be me being sick of him first as opposed to him being sick of me.

Have I happened to mention how special I think you are? I wasn’t blowing smoke when I told you I thought you were the person in my dreams. The one I asked to find me. There is nothing that I say just to hear myself talk. Or watch myself type. If I’m talking to hear myself, I am alone. I said I didn’t want to freak you out because I know it freaks me out. When I realized for the first time you looked alike, my eyes welled. Sometimes I don’t say enough because I know I run the risk of saying too much, but if I let myself say those things none of it would be a lie. None of it would be disingenuous. I mean every beautiful thing I’ve ever thought about you, spoken or not. It’s super trite, but everything before you makes perfect sense to me now. I thought I would never see that look in person. I never thought I would trust it if I did. I have never in my life met someone who could trigger me so much but in the best way, in a way that spurs me toward a better version of me, without having to incur trauma. Being able to do this with you has taught me so much about myself in such a short amount of time, I am healing because of the purity of what you’re offering me. I am learning how to be securely attached because I want to be able to do this with you. I am following your lead, regardless of where you’re leading from. Things are tumultuous as fuck because they need to be. We each have things to glean from this season. Someone will love you thru your darkest hour, someone will love me enough to dissipate the shadow of my past. I love you so much. I hope to god it’s you.

[boonerask99]

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[pornaddictioncounseling]

SAVE YOUR INSIGHTS AND SAVE YOUR LIFE

I find that a lot of traditional approaches to porn addiction recovery hand deliver foundational concepts for you.

Take the 12-step recovery community, for example. They have these phrases like “one day at a time” and “once an addict, always an addict.” This religion of recovery is a detrimental approach to controlling your behavior with porn, sex, and masturbation.

I see too many people latch onto these concepts like they’re the one and only approach to a fulfilling life. It makes sense because you don’t show up to recovery groups until you’ve reached at least some level of desperation. You wouldn’t ask for help if you weren’t seriously struggling. So I understand why people latch onto these concepts like they’re the sole way to a better life.

But I don’t agree with that. I don’t think adopting someone else’s foundational concepts leads to a lasting and fulfilling life. Adopting someone else’s ideas as your own and parroting them as if you wholeheartedly believe in them only sets you up for failure. You’re likely to end up in a deeper, darker place than before and I don’t want to see that happen.

I think that the “gospel of recovery” as I like to call it preys on the innocent. It scoops you up during your worst moments and promises to save you from yourself if you only think the way that you’re told to. In my opinion, anything that strips you of personal responsibility and individuality isn’t the way to go.

I believe that the person who knows you best is yourself. You sit with yourself every day, you listen to yourself think, you watch yourself move through the world. While you may have some skewed thinking when you first arrive at the Porn Reboot program, you’re still the best expert there is on you.

The Porn Addiction Counseling or Porn Reboot system is outlined to help you uncover the things that get in your way and built reboot capital so you no longer have to rely on porn, sex, and masturbation. It’s not a dogmatic set of beliefs you must adopt, it’s simply a path of simple actions that empower you to reconnect with yourself.

You’ll find nothing in the Porn Reboot program that forces you to believe any one particular thing. Instead, I encourage you to dig deep within yourself and discover the insights that are inherently there. You spend years blocking them out with your out-of-control behavior, but once you have some time away from it you’ll find those insights are still there.

Taking on someone else’s insights instead of getting in touch with your own is dishonest to your existence. It’s denying what you know to be inherently true. Every person has a fundamental understanding and idea of the world that works for them. Trying to force yourself into someone else’s mold is a recipe for disingenuous living and discontentment.

You don’t need someone to force feed you a set of insights that may or may not align with your beliefs. Instead, your morning reflection, your reading, your journaling, and your checking in with your accountability partner will outline a clear idea of what is right and wrong for you. 

Saving your insights will save your life. You don’t need me to tell you what is important. I trust that with enough time free from porn you’ll develop the mental clarity necessary to determine that for yourself. The Porn Addiction Recovery Reboot system has much more faith in you than traditional recovery programs do.

No one knows you better than you know yourself, brother. Once you truly understand that fact, you’ll find a freedom and sense of relief that you never dreamed was possible.

#Youtube

[hintsofhoney]

alright, *cracks fingers*. so. I’ve written up a transcript just to lay it all out for myself and get the most important parts. listen, everyone. for all intents and purposes and legal reasons, THIS WAS A DREAM. alright? I dreamt this. and he is literally the nicest human being ever so I don’t want to just like... put our whole convo out there like that, but I think he said some stuff that was important for people to hear so... here we go

my *dreamt* zoom call with thee crowley below the cut

The first five minutes (of my dream) was just a bunch of introduction stuff and talking about my favorite Supernatural seasons which eventually led to him telling me how they filmed the Season 8 finale (which they did over the span of three days, and in between takes the crew members were like dead silent, as to keep the moment going, which Mark thought was really cool. Said it was one of his favorite things they did on Supernatural.) Anyways, he eventually asked me if I had any questions, so, I’ll start there.

MARK: So, do you have any questions you want to ask me about aaaaaannyyyythingggg? 

ME: Um, I guess the number one thing I wanna know… um, so, I know you can’t speak for Dean and I don’t want to talk about Dean because you’re not Jensen, but, there’s like a lot of questions I guess or subtext or whatever concerning Dean’s sexuality and what not, but I want to know about demon Dean and Crowley’s relationship and if there was, I don’t know, anything like, any implied –

MARK: Well I think – I think you’re talking about… there’s a massive difference between sex and love. There’s a massive difference between, um, well, they can intertwine perfectly, that’s not the issue, but I mean you would believe with all the things that Crowley did for the Winchesters, that he was – that he very much loved Sam and Dean or loved who they are or what they are. To reduce it to, you know, a crush, or to something that – I mean, I don’t know, I think Crowley is very probably pansexual more than anything else; I don’t think anything phased him. I think, that’s why the whole stuff with Lucifer and licking the floor was kind of really stupidly boring for me because Crowley did weirder and crazier things on his own. I mean, it became this joke of trying to humiliate somebody who can’t be humiliated. There’s nothing you can humiliate Crowley with. So, that never sort of made sense, that was just a sort of writer’s glitch of thinking, “oooh, this would be funny to knock him down into subservience” and that’s what he does on a Wednesday, I mean it’s like the most un-inspiring thing. I think so much is projected onto the relationship between, certainly the four main characters, um, and, you know, look, getting comfortable with one’s sexuality and one’s identity is a massively complicated things, and if you want to live vicariously through what you believe people’s identity is and you can relate to that, great!  Who cares? I mean, can I be absolutely honest? Apart from – what I do care about, you know, don’t ever take this and piece me or misquote it, because it’s very, very specific – um, somebody stopping somebody being able to express their own identity or whatever is an issue for me. That will always be an issue for me. Um, we should all be treated equally, and we all have the rights to believe and follow those things that we wish to follow, but to project relationships onto characters is an odd thing to do. I mean, it’s wishful thinking in a lot of ways, I mean, actually it’s quite… it’s quite reasonable because in the past if you think about it, if you ask your parents or anyone else, the only way sexuality was used was to, uh, literally demonize somebody. It was only ever used to say somebody was bad because this who they’re in love with. You know, that’s, that’s the thing. And it’s a massive change in the world that we’re moving towards, I should say, uh – a lack of consequence for who one loves, apart from the obvious consequences of human nature. You know, political consequences for who one loves – I’ve just watched Pete Butteigieg being, you know, sitting in congress with his husband there with him; that’s the first time that’s ever happened in United States congress and I’m so proud of that. Not just because the man is gay and happily married – that’s not even the issue for me, it’s because he’s the best man for the job and one of the smartest people on the planet. You know, it’s like using sexual templates, as they were, or gender templates as they are, or orientation templates as they are, we always use to disclude people from things. They were always used to discriminate. You know, labeling somebody was a way of discrimination. And where as labels are very important, to ones self, and they’re very important politically and they’re very important socio-economically and they’re very important in all those aspects, I yearn for a time when nobody gives a damn. I really do. But I mean, we have to go through so much to get there. I mean, let’s be honest, you can’t, you know, right the wrongs of hundreds of years of oppression in 20 minutes by saying, “let’s all move forward”. It just doesn’t work that way, it never has. But there’s a responsibility there, that if you’re going to represent, that you represent all. That you don’t just represent you. So, one has to be careful with a television program or, or, you know, Misha or myself, or, not speaking for the boys, but just generally, um, you have to be careful that what you advocate is inclusive, not disinclusive. Not excluding people... and it’s so hard to frame these conversations, that they’re equitable, it’s so hard to do that. And so, you know, we spend years pointing out the inequity and the injustice and the unfairness of the whole situation, and… I don’t know if the trick is to rise above, or, uh, maybe it’s as simple as love and coming together as a human race and make it very difficult for people to discriminate and exclude based on gender, race, color, religion, any of the subsets of humanity that we’ve decided we have. So, I think personal responsibility is the most important thing, but if one is in a position of power on a TV show, you got to remember what you’re representing, that you have a, you know, you have to cover all or cover none. So, you know, but if you stick to a story and you have a story about a person or two people and their journey, that’s shining light on things. If you try to advocate for all, I think it becomes a little more complicated. Does that make sense?

so, i just feel like he said some important things there, but like I also don’t really understand what he’s getting at really, y’know? oh! also, he didn’t watch the finale lmao 

also! there’s this:

MARK: Because if you come down on one side or another, you’re admitting the sides, and that has its own political ramifications. If you push the ball up in the air and say, “you decide”, I don’t think that’s copping out. I think that’s, maybe not fulfilling everybody’s expectations, or not fulfilling everybody’s hopes, but at least you’re getting the question asked. You know, at least you’re getting the question asked. At least people are relating to it and going, “well, what if?”. Because it’s all “what if”, I mean, it’s a TV show, so it’s “what if”, you know? It’s not Misha being in love with Jensen, I mean as much as he loves Jensen, I don’t think that’s his thing – I mean you never know – but I’m saying yet again, I don’t exclude anything from anybody (I LITERALLY CAN’T BELIEVE HE SAID THIS LMAO). But to force my opinion or my identity belief upon a situation has a cost. It may be right, it may be absolutely right, and it may be necessary in many, many cases. But, in that circumstance, I think… there are a lot of people in the world that say that Jesus, for example, was anti-homosexual and that he was – and none of that is true, and none of that is provable in the New Testament, and I’m not talking about Leviticus and I’m not talking about early Bible and I’m not talking about the fact that more than 25,000 words have been changed in the King James edition and all of this stuff, but these things that people hold so sacred, the confusion that arises from that is being told that a man loving a man or a woman loving a woman or a man loving a man and a woman or whatever combination being there is either right or wrong because you’re being told by a pastor or the leaders of your church, is a very difficult thing to break down. I think what you have to do is at least put it out there so it’s visible, and so it becomes less and less deniable. And you know, people change over years, that’s the trouble with youth, is shit doesn’t move fast enough. “I need a decision now!”, and unfortunately, when you’re dealing with centuries of prejudice and centuries of un-enlightenment, I think that sometimes the best thing to do is reach as many people as possible and pose the question. And sometimes it’s essential to make a statement, absolutely, no question. It is essential to make a stand, in some circumstances. But to polarize a TV show, can be very disingenuous to those who need to go ask their own questions, who need to go say, “well, where does Jesus say this is wrong?” you know, if that’s your beliefs.

he also said, when we went off on a tangent about doom patrol:

MARK: There are issues that are being addressed here [on Doom Patrol] that are not being addressed on other shows, and yet again, we have the format, and I don’t know that Supernatural ever had the format because it was on the CW.

anywho, in conclusion, fuck the cw.

also, again, for all intents and purposes this was a dream I had :)))))))

[midday0nightmares]

32 - forever lost (m).

Previous chapter a week later (m).

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

You were stirred awake by jaemin’s hands that roamed up your body, his hot breathes hitting the side of your face.

your mind registering that he must have uncuffed one of your hands whilst you were asleep, His lips letter gentle kisses to the side of your face as you eyes flutter open, “I’ll be back in a while” he whispers into your ear as not disturb you much, “go back to sleep baby” he buries his face in the crock of your neck, filling his chest with your scent, butterflies burst in your stomach at the sweet gesture..“mmh kay” you purr with content and joy. 

And just like he was a fleeting dream, he withdraws form you and disappears letting you drown back into slumber.

.... The door was shut, it won’t open, it was cemented on every side expat for the small slit under it, you try knocking, shout for someone, anyone, but to no avail.

you try the window, it opens, but the sight is even scarier. The city is quiet, too quiet. No traffic in its usually busy streets, every window in the near buildings were closed, no birds in the sky, not a single sign of life, even the sun seems to be stuck in its place, time isn’t moving.

Outside the closed door, you can hear muffled sounds, you peak under the door and see the familiar white socks on a pair of feet moving around the room. you shout and scream for him, but he doesn’t even flinch, he just keeps going through his day. 

You were forgotten, forever lost in his room ....

Your body jerks awake, the sun glares at you through the open window, you cant feel your left hand as it’s still cuffed to the bed, you sit up to wave the sleepiness, you look around trying to get a grip on reality.

Too grumpy and too sweaty to look for the key, you call for jaemin but no response, he must haven’t returned yet, Where the hell is he? Its noon. 

You look under the pillows and over the bedside table, you look through the drawers but you can’t find it, You opt to ask jeno for help

“Jeno~” you call him but he doesn’t responds too, you know he’s home because the TV was on, you knock on the wall until the door opens with him standing with disingenuous smile. 

“Yes?”,

you can tell by his tone that his tolerance of you is already thin.

“I need to pee” 

you pout, but he doesn’t even pat a lash.

“so pee”,

 he deadpans tells you to pee your pants.

“Come on don’t be like that, help meee” 

you whine, but he doesn’t budge.

“I’m not getting involved between you two”,

he turns around and walks away..

“no no wait at least get me water, jeno!”,

but to your frustration your words fall deff to his ears. You huff and throw yourself back into the sheets muttering curses.

With nothing to do, you drift back to sleep..

The slammed door wakes you up, it’s dark outside and jaemin is finally back,

“Hey..you’er back”, you mumble happily, ready to be free again.

He flicks the lights on causing you to squint in attempt  to adjust your vision, He dosn’t spar you a look and goes to the closet, he opens its door and takes out a bag and starts throwing in a random selection of clothes. 

 You still groggy with sleeplessness, you rub your eyes and sit up, “Jaemin, baby what are you doing?”,

he wipes his nose with his sleeve and you realize he was crying.

“We are leaving”, 

he tells you with a tight jaw.

With too many questions crowding your mind you ask him “Leaving.. where? Why what happed?”,

He turns to face you, and you see his puffy eyes still had tears in them. 

He keels next to the bed and opens the safe.. 

His strange behavior alarming you even more, 

“jaemin, what going on?”, fully awake now, you demand an explanation.. and before he can gives you an answer a loud knock on the apartment door freezes him in his place.

“Police! Open the door!” The loud man’s voice echoing through the quiet apartment. Jaemin’s face goes pale like he has seen a ghost, he snaps out of his shock and returns to what he was doing, taking his gun out.. 

“jaemin please”, 

 you beg him, you are certain that whatever is happening is not good, the knocks get louder and more urgent.

He fumbles with the key and frees your other hand, 

“get up!” he pulls you off the bed with one hand while the other holds the gun, you keep begging him, trying to sooth him, but his tears fall faster as he shouts at you to get up, you can feel the desperation radiates off of him. 

Jeno comes running to the door, he opens it and you hear the sound of what sounded like a hundred foot stepping inside the apartment, jaemin runs and locks his door, a dreadful feeling filled you.

You know that this is a serious situation, the police knock on his door but he doesn’t responses, he keeps his back pushed against the door, and it downed on you.. you were locked in a room with a man who have a gun, fear ran through you.

You wanted to say something to soothe the intense situation but you couldn’t find the words.

jaemin opened his eyes and looked at you like an idea have flashed in his mind, your heat was thumbing loud in your ears, he walks towards you. “Jaemin” your eyes fill with tears and you cry without a reason but utter fear, your body moves by itself and you take a step back until your knees were met by the edge of the bed, you keens buckle when he comes closer.. 

you could barely hear the knocks on the door and the men who were trying to coax him out.. they all seemed too far away. 

His tall body looms over you, his eyes had no tears in them, no love, no warmth. 

Everything seems to disappear and time seemed to have stopped for a second, you break in violent shakes.. 

You can see the storm of thoughts behind his eyes, grief tugs at his lips as they twitch when he comes to his decision..

“no jaemin..” You hardly get the words out, he looks at his gun and shakes his head to himself, a sad, ironic laugh escapes his chest “just when I was happy…” his shoulder shakes, his laughter sounds painful, like it was being ripped out of his lunges.

His arm wipe the tears from his eyes and he looks at you, he’s back into his head again. 

heated emotions rises up to the surface again, anger, fear, spiraling out of control as fresh tears burst out of his eyes. His hand comes to rest on the back of your neck and he pulls you into him, he rest his head on top of yours, his hand affectionately smoothes your hair, he sways both of you while shushing your cries “its going to be alright”, you stay like this for a minute and oddly it brought you peace.

He kisses the top of your head and pulls back, your hands grip his sides to bring him back to you, he stands over you, “I’m sorry.. ” chocks on his words “I’m taking you with me”..

“No jaemin we still can fix this” you desperately try to stop him, to get him to think again but all hope dies when he points the gun at you. 

You heart sinks at click of the safety switch on the gun, his hand dangerously shaking, he sobs and wipes his eyes and blinks to clear his vision. 

“Jaemin..” 

Everything has stopped at that moment, too shocked and heartbroken to speak, the disbelieve dissipate quickly and its replaced by great sense of disappointment by your short life, sorrow to everything you haven’t had the chance to do yet, how could it all end this quick? like this?.

“Please don’t..” You beg him even you know it won’t help you now.. 

“Close your eyes my love” he asks you.

You close your eyes, letting go, peace rushing through your veins, you see the sequenced events of your short life flash, all the memories, all the regrets, all the mistakes. 

“I will be right there with you” he tells you.

The violent hit pierced through your head, burning its way to the other side, your can hear your skull shattering, you lose your senses quickly as you fade away, the celling of his room disappears as you slip out of life.

Outside the door, jeno hears the gun fires and he knows he has just lost one of you, the ground disappears from under him as he collapse to the floor.

The police breaks the door, but another gun shot breaks as jaemin takes his own life.

What have started as a simple arrest, ended with a murder-sucide. 

A new break in the case of jaemin’s mother suspicious death was made, a new piece of evidence was found proving that the only suspect they had was in fact her killer, it was non other than her son na jaemin. 

#nct dream #nct yandere #nct mafia #nct dream yandere #nct jaemin #nct jeno #nct blurbs #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct agnst #nct angst #nct fluff nct smut #na jaemin #lee jeno

[chattingwiththelightkeeper]

Emotional Dishonesty

I was asked this question and it started me thinking:

Do you think that doms are allowed to also feel insecure as well or do you think that doms should always exude an air of confidence, which may be absent of any insecurities so that they can provide a secure environment for their sub?

This question made me facepalm at first and I was stunned. I thought at first, how can someone, let alone a person who identifies as a d-type not understand this. Thankfully, I took a deep cleansing breath before I decided to answer and thought for a moment. There is so much malarkey being shared in craptastic online ‘how-to guides’ to dominance about how d-types are alphas, better than the best, look fear in the face causing it to run home to its momma because of what must be constipated dom face. The constipated d-type face is my term for those selfies dominants send out or use as a profile picture where they have a serious yet painful grimace on their face which to me looks like they are backed-up and trying to force a log through their internal dam. Speaking of constipated, have you heard about the new movie called Constipated? It is not out yet, ba-dum shhh.

At first blush, I thought this question came from a place of ignorance but the more I thought about this the more it became clear that so much of the information that is put forth for d-types, especially new ones, actually can encourage emotional dishonesty.

I believe a dominant must have a level of self-confidence that allows them to know in their heart of hearts that they can, will, and do make the best possible choices for their submissive but this does not mean dominants are superhuman or superheroes. Being human means dominants have made and will make mistakes. It also means that there will be times of doubt, second-guessing, and even overthinking decisions and choices. This is not limited to vanilla things such as did I answer that important email, hire the right person, or pick the best product when shopping. I believe dominants will have times when they look at decisions they have made in their relationship wondering if it is right, will it bring the desired results, and if it was the right choice. Sometimes d-types have to let decisions play out and learn lessons afterward and other times they may change direction in the middle of the project because they see an impending error. Remember, dominants are human beings which means they are just like everyone else, flawed.

The fact that much of the propaganda directed at newbie d-types shows dominants as perfect, always confident, and some sort of relationship god. Much of this preaches that somehow by hiding emotions, insecurities, and exhibiting unbridled confidence coupled with a fearless face somehow empowers a submissive to feel trust and security but through all of this, the dominant is being dishonest with the person they should be the most honest with, their submissive. I feel that if a dominant truly wants to build a safe and trusting relationship, being able to say things like:

I am scared too, take my hand, follow me and we will get through this.

This is irrational but we need to wait an hour before going out because I am afraid to leave the dishwasher running if I am not home or I would love to walk across this bridge with you but I am afraid my fear of heights will cause me to freeze halfway across. This is one of my irrational fears and a place where my confidence may evaporate as I have a fear of heights. FYI, the old Shirely Lake Express chairlift at Squaw Valley, California was more terrifying for me to ride up than any run down the entire mountain.

Sharing with their submissive, when you do/say X, it makes me feel Y.

I am feeling this emotion and there is not a good reason for it but I want you to understand what is in my mind right now.

I am sorry, I made a mistake. We need to sit down and talk through what happened so I can learn from this.

Not only are the above things to keep in mind and great ways to potentially begin a challenging conversation, but there is something else that needs to be said. Dominants can and do have anxiety, PTSD, depression, and other mental health struggles. Within this lifestyle, it feels to me that some make d-types out to be people who do not have these challenges, or worse if a dominant does face these difficulties they are disqualified from being a d-type. This could not be farther from the truth because a D/S role does not make anyone immune to physical or mental health issues.

For me, it is simple, we are all humans first and whatever lifestyle role after that. Everyone is going to feel emotions, times of doubt, have irrational fears, and make mistakes. If a dominant wants to build a trusting and honest relationship it requires emotional honesty. Honesty is similar to trust in that if you want to be trusted, you must give trust which means a d-type must be honest with their submissive. I believe that when a dominant shares emotions honestly, it will do more to build a secure relationship rather than being disingenuous through displays of faux confidence and glossing over or forgetting mistakes. This does not mean a dominant cannot be guarded or very careful with who they open up their heart and mind to but when it comes to their submissive, d-types must be emotionally honest. So if you are a newer dominant, especially men, please put away the notion that emotions are to be hidden, restrained, and not expressed because the Victorian Age is history. Please, share your thoughts, own your mistakes, express how you feel (even when those emotions might not be happy ones), and be open about those times when you have or are having a struggle with your confidence because this will create a safe, secure space within the relationship that is so important. I know it can be very hard at times to drop your guard and open up but this is a requirement, not an option, and all that junk out there extolling the virtues of d-types as super-beings, is just like superheroes in comic books, fiction.

As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2021

[lochnessies]

genuine question: how much do you think 3H fandom's issues fall down to basic media illiteracy, like the concept of unreliable narrators, character arcs or framing? because like.

"dimitri bad!" yes, he is condemned for this in his own route and he has a character arc to grow and change. he doesn't do this in the other 3 routes bc in one he is fine and the other 2 he is dead because his original thought process literally got him killed and he could only succeed once he abandoned it. it is almost like. this was the point. why even bring it up, we know that he did bad things. we played AM and understood the narrative being told, you see

honestly, in my personal opinion, most of the fandom’s problems come from this. now the game’s structure and writing itself isn’t free of blame but it would be disingenuous to place all of it on intsys.

and usually (don’t come for me for saying this bc i know someone will) these literacy issues come from a certain section of the 3h fanbase. once again, it would be disingenuous of me to place full blame on she-who-must-not-be-named’s stans but it is undeniable that there is a common denominator with their arguments.

i wouldn’t even chalk it up to them not knowing about unreliable narrators, character arcs, and framing bc they’ve shown that they do know with their analyses. for example:

seteth is an unreliable narrator because he says edelgard wants to make herself a false goddess when she clearly doesn’t

byleth has a character arc when they go from a cold mercenary to a human in crimson flower

crimson flower can’t be a villain route because the overt tones are saying you are the heroes

now these are surface level observations that are completely false but the fact that they are used shows that they are aware of these narrative devices.

i think the problem lies in their attachment to you-know-boo. they can’t possibly fathom that their little princess actually is the one you can’t trust and that her words are worth less than tana mongeau’s cryptocurrency. that everybody other than edelgard goes through a negative character arc. that the reason the cf tones are positive is bc of the ignorance theme but if you know the lore you see the cracks

the framing of white clouds is that the church is this evil shadow over fodlan and edel is this trailblazer that will forge a new dawn for fodlan. you see her laugh, cry, and be a teenage girl. then there’s the big twist in the holy tomb where you are forced to come to terms that you were just played like a fiddle. edel may still be a cute teenage girl but she’s also a liar, a terrorist, and an enemy to peace. however, since byleth is effectively a blank slate, you don’t get this internal dialogue and in the heat of the moment the player is most likely going to side with her.

then you get to crimson flower where everything edelgard did or was complicate in is swept under the rug and never mentioned again. the assassination attempt? flayn’s kidnapping? remire? the western church? her weird ass dad? it might as well have never happened so the player forgets about it.

so when they get involved in meta and the fandom they’re doing it from an edelgard centric view. she’s the one who’s right and everybody else is unreliable. edelgard goes through a character arc and dimitri and rhea are just lunatics. crimson flower is a brilliant dawn so how dare you insinuate that there’s something rotten in the state of denmark?

then there’s the fact that cf, and by extension edelgard, simply appeals to a more self righteousness mindset. now i’m not saying everybody who likes her has their head up their own ass, but if you go to places like r/edelgard it’s just a circle jerk of people stroking each other’s egos and talk of how everybody else is too simple minded to understand how complex edelgard and her motives are [enter zero escape meme here]. you’ll also find the same on tumblr and twitter but they’ll probably call you a sexist or homophobe or some other buzzword that has lost all meaning at this point.

they’ll continue talking and badgering you and flood comments, notes, and forums on ‘why edelgard is clearly the best and why can’t you just see it’ until everybody is exhausted and leaves. they’ll then strut around like they won an argument and are valid in their opinions bc nobody is arguing with them anymore.

so yeah, they’re 100% aware of these devices it’s just that a mix of bad structure, superficial meta, willful ignorance despite the evidence to the truth, and in some occasions just a personality flaw that has created this never ending nightmare we know as the fe3h fandom.

#this is just from my personal experience. what do y’all think? #asks

[remywrites5]

            Regulus sat on the sofa, where he fiddled with his hair nervously, and shifted uncomfortably in the dress his mum had put him in. He hated that he was forced to keep his hair so long. Sirius had been growing his hair out since he was fifteen, ever since Reg finally told him the truth, that Regulus identified as a man. “Look, Reg,” Sirius had said, once his hair was past his shoulders. “Boys can have long hair too. So don’t feel bad that mum won’t let you cut it!”

           They had poured over the many Astronomy books in the library to find Regulus a different name – a boy’s name. After a bit of back and forth between the two brothers, they had eventually agreed on Regulus Black.

           Regulus had had a rough go of it at Hogwarts – being misgendered, people using his dead name, and having to sleep in the girls’ dormitories. The only time he had been happy was on the Slytherin Quidditch team, because everyone wore the same uniforms. But now he was out of Hogwarts and had hoped he could finally live his life the way he wanted. Those small glimpses of hope had been dashed once Sirius ran away from home. Sirius was disinherited and burned off the family tapestry. Regulus was now responsible for producing a Black family heir, since he was not eligible to inherit.

           Since graduating from Hogwarts, Regulus’ life had been a parade of men from pureblood families. Walburga was searching for someone worthy. Regulus had lost count of how many men had come by, looking for an arranged marriage that benefited them. Some of them were just looking for the status that marrying a Black would bring them. Others were interested in the money. Regulus had taken a page out of his brother’s book, and had causes enough trouble that they all ran away.

           Walburga had stopped giving Regulus any insight into who would be coming to the door. Perhaps she had figured out that if Regulus had knowledge of the suitor, he could figure out a way to scare them off. Most of the men coming by were people Reg knew from school, which meant he knew their weak spots. After all, Regulus was a Slytherin at the end of the day, and he would use every advantage he had if it meant he didn’t have to marry.

           The door to the parlor opened and Regulus stood up. He smoothed out the skirt of the black satin dress his mother had forced him to wear and prepared himself for the worst. He was a little caught off guard when James Potter of all people walked in. His mother considered the Potters to be blood traitors, which meant she must have been getting desperate to find someone pureblood still left.

           “James –“ Regulus said, feeling himself blush.

           “Hi Reg,” James responded, giving a little wave.

           Regulus was so shocked to hear one of these stupid suitors call him by his name. It was almost enough to make him cry in relief. “What are you doing here?”

           James shuffled awkwardly on his feet and scratched the back of his neck. “Could we maybe sit down?”

           Regulus crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”

           James made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. “I knew this was going to be bloody awkward. Look, I’m probably the last person you want to get saddled with after everything that happened with Sirius, but your mum invited me out, and Sirius wanted me to come see how you are.”

           “Oh,” Reg said, rubbing his arm self-consciously. “Well, I’m fine, you can tell Sirius I’m fine.”

           James took a tentative step forward. “Are you sure, Reg?”

           “I’m sure,” Regulus snapped at him. “You don’t want to be here anyway, so just go,”

           “I didn’t say that,” James countered defensively. “I said you don’t want me here. I know you don’t like me all that much since Sirius came to live with me.”

           “I never disliked you,” Regulus confessed quietly. “I disliked the situation, but I always understood why Sirius had to get out.”

           “So…” James took another step towards Regulus. “You don’t hate me then?”

           Regulus shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said out loud in case James needed it verbalized to believe it.

           James sighed in relief and smiled at Reg. “I’m glad to hear it. I was a little worried you were going to hex me on sight.”

           Regulus smirked and sat back down on the couch. He crossed his legs primly and then patted the spot next to him. James eagerly hurried over to sit down beside him. Regulus tried not to find it endearing and failed miserably. “Here’s the thing, I don’t want to get married and I certainly don’t want to have a child.”

           “Okay…” James said, his brow furrowing. “Then why are you going along with all of this then?”

           “I don’t exactly have a choice,” Regulus said through gritted teeth, his hands curling into fists by his sides. “The Black family needs an heir and we both know Sirius isn’t an option anymore. As far as pureblood wizards go, you’re about the best I’m going to get. Besides, I want someone who is going to accept me as a man. I know I might not be what you were looking for –“

           “Actually –“ James interrupted, scratching his chin. “Sirius informed me I’m something called Pansexual…so, you know, I’m fine with you being a bloke.”

           Regulus blinked a few times in surprise. He honestly had not been expecting that at all and was completely baffled. He had always thought James Potter was straight, after all, he had spent most of his time at Hogwarts chasing after Lily Evans.

           “So wait, you’re actually considering this?” Regulus asked, shaking his head slightly in disblief. “You’d marry me?”

           James shrugged. “If you’ll have me.”

           “You’re not just doing this as a favor to my brother, right?” Reg asked, eyeing James suspiciously. After knowing James for so long, it was difficult not to imagine he had some kind of ulterior motive for all of this.

           James grinned. “I love Sirius like a brother, but even I’m not that altruistic that I would marry a bloke just to make him happy.”

           Regulus was satisfied with that answer. He couldn’t believe that he was actually considering marry James Potter. “You must have something you want out of all of this,” he said, chewing his bottom lip. “This is a lot to give up.”

           “I don’t see it that way,” James said, slowly reaching over and taking Reg’s hand in his, giving Reg enough time to pull away if he wanted. “I mean, you’re very pretty. Handsome? No, blokes can be pretty. You’re pretty. Beautiful, actually. I – fuck – you know you’re gorgeous. I don’t have to tell you that.”

           Regulus felt himself blushing horridly. He couldn’t believe one compliment like that – and a fumbled attempt at one no less – was enough to get him flustered. “So you just want to marry someone pretty then?”

           James laughed but it was a bit strained. “I think you’re more than just a pretty face, Reg.”  

           Regulus turned his face away to hide his deeper blush. What was wrong with him today? “Shut up, James.”

           “What do you say, Reg?” James asked, giving Regulus’ hand a squeeze. “Do you want to marry me?”

           Regulus turned and eyed James up and down for any sign that he was being disingenuous. Instead all he saw was the stupidly earnest look on James’ face as he waited for a response.

           “Yes.”

                                                                       ***

           Regulus felt like he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since he’d agreed to James’ proposal. After they got married, Regulus and James had gotten a flat together in London, and being away from his parents meant Regulus could finally breathe. He donated all his dresses and skirts to charity, so that he never had to see them again. James didn’t say a word when Regulus cut his hair, picking a fashionable undercut, the front still falling into his grey eyes.

           Regulus still felt like they were on the precipice of something, though. James never asked for anything, and that simple fact put Regulus on edge. He wasn’t used to someone not having any expectations for him. For the most part, James just let Regulus be, and since they weren’t sleeping in the same bed, they were almost more like flatmates than a married couple. It made Regulus uneasy, since he still didn’t know what James was getting out of their arrangement.

           It started with Regulus stealing James’ shirts and hoodies. James was fairly muscular from his obsession with Quidditch, so when Regulus wore James’ clothes, he was kind of swimming in them. They were so cozy that Regulus couldn’t help wanting to wear them. Being wrapped up in James’ clothes kind of made Regulus yearn for the man himself.

           James was relaxing on the couch, studying for the Auror exam he was taking later that month. He glanced up when Reg entered the room and his hazel eyes immediately went soft behind his glasses. He took in the sight of Regulus wearing his Gryffindor t-shirt and smiled. Regulus chewed his bottom lip for a moment and then walked over to the couch. James watched him for a minute and then scooted over in an invitation. Regulus dropped into James’ arms and they tangled themselves in each other.

           “James?”

           “Yeah, Reg?”

           “Am I enough for you?”

           James frowned for a moment and Regulus immediately buried his face away against James’ neck. He was nervous that he had upset his husband. “Why would you ask me that?”

           “Because you’ve given me a home, and you’ve let me be myself,” Regulus said, his voice muffled against James’ skin. “I don’t know what I do for you.”

           James chuckled, rubbing his hand over Reg’s back. “Do you want to do something for me?”

           “Well I am your husband,” Regulus groused, wrapping his arms around James and hugging him tightly.

           James slid his hand down, brushing his finger along Reg’s jawline, before tilting his chin up. James ducked his head and kissed Regulus tenderly on the lips. Regulus gasped slightly, but the kiss was already done before he got the sound out. “There,” James said, shifting around so that he could comfortably hold his book, his other arm still around Reg. “That’s all I wanted.”

           Regulus’ jaw was still dropped. “That can’t possibly be enough for you,” he reasoned.

           James put his book down in order to focus his attention on Reg. “Fine, I’ll do it again then,” he said with a soft sigh. He captured Reg’s lips and proceeded to kiss him breathless. Regulus clung to James, letting his mouth be invaded by James’ talented tongue, whimpering slightly against his husband’s’ lips.

           “James –“ Regulus said, breaking the kiss. “I want you to be honest with me. A few kisses? That’s really all you want?”

           James grinned and ran his fingers through Reg’s hair. “You want me to be honest, huh?”

           “Yes.”

           “I want you to wear my clothes all the time, because it does things to me to see you in them, and I’m a bad, possessive husband, who wants to see my husband in my t-shirts. I also want to kiss you pretty much all the time. Finally, I want you to fall in love with me, but that one I’m willing to wait on.”

           Regulus hid his face away again because the things James said were simply too overwhelming. “So that’s all I have to do?” Regulus asked in astonishment.

           “That’s all,” James confirmed, pressing a kiss to the top of Regulus’ head.

           Regulus huffed indignantly. It all sounded so simple, but that couldn’t be all James wanted. Regulus knew that his mother had constantly been bombarding James with owls since their wedding night six months ago. A barrage of letters and howlers had come asking when they were going to get pregnant and produce and heir. Walburga probably would have had conniptions if she knew James and Regulus weren’t even sleeping in the same bed. But after their little cuddle session on the couch, Reg was thinking he might have to reevaluate his stance on that. Being held by James was actually very nice. “May I tell you what I want?”

           Regulus felt James nod, since Reg still had his face buried away. “Of course,” James said softly. “Anything you want, Reg.”

           Regulus pulled back, so that he could see James’ face, and took a deep breath. “I want you to fall in love with me too.”

           “Too late.”

           Regulus sputtered for a moment. “Y-you’re not –“

           “I’m not?” James challenged, raising an eyebrow. His eyes got that same softness to them as he smiled before leaning in to kiss Regulus again. “I’m pretty sure I am.”

           “Only pretty sure?” Regulus murmured against James’ lips, managing to tease him, even as his heart was fluttering away in his chest.

           James chuckled, pressing their foreheads together, so Reg had no choice but to stare into those hazel eyes he’d become enamored by.

           “I’m sure.”

#Jegulus #I write things #happy pride month everyone #fluff #trans Regulus #Regulus Black #James Potter #james potter x regulus black #arranged marriage au #I just want nice things for Regulus okay? #trans character

[katnissmellarkkk]

I *DEMAND* part 3 of shattered pearl. I repeat. I *DEMAND*.

Hahahahaha omg. Well, I decided to legitimately dig through the archives of my writing drafts and found chapter three of the Peeta-Wasn’t-Hijacked fic. It’s been given like 1,000 different names on different sites. I’ve never loved any of them. And I don’t really think this is my best writing ngl. But I also figure ... why be so stingy, ya know? If I have an incomplete draft, that I probably won’t finish, why not post a little bit? Especially since I literally left everyone and their brother who were reading this fic on a cliffy for over a year.

With that said.... I wrote this part like ... 15 months ago? 14 ? 13 ? Something like that. And I haven’t edited it since so ... yeah! Here’s a small chunk of chapter three! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope it’s better than I remember it being!

But it’s lacking something and it’s only then I realize, what I’m searching for inside Gale’s mouth, is the spark that only Peeta’s ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn’t manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn’t be attributed to lack of oxygen.

But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale’s demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.

I’m not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I’m hurting someone I deeply care for.

But how I feel upon seeing Gale’s face isn’t even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.

/

I yelled his name as he disappeared down the hall. I tried to rip out all the needles and wires connecting me to the machines and the stiff, sterilized bed but Gale used all his strength to push me down flat. I was overpowered and exhausted and my left side was screaming mercilessly, and I don’t even know what pain was the bruised lung and what pain was my hurt ribs and what pain was my heart violently smashing into the pit of my stomach.

All I know is that if I had been able to reach Peeta before he evaporated, I have no clue what I would have said to him.

What I could have said to make it alright.

Gale tried to talk to me again after that but I entirely tuned him out, no longer caring if I wounded his feelings, or anyone else's for that matter.

It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how careful or cautious or preemptive I try to be, someone still got hurt in the end.

I wish I could just shut out the world, like I did during those first few weeks in Thirteen. Hide inside closets when I had a flashback. Shove myself into a minuscule crawl space with every nightmare. Refuse to speak to anyone who wasn't Gale or my family. Only eat when my mother nearly forced me. Show no remorse for how rude or how clinically insane I came across.

But now there was an agreement in place, an agreement I made to protect the victors—namely the one who just disappeared down the hall on me—and the people who had no voice on their own. The people who’s only chance was a half-crazed, shell-shocked, battle worn seventeen year old girl, who was just gunned down on national television.

Even if I wanted to retreat to some safe haven inside my head—if such a thing even existed for me—like Annie Cresta, I knew it could never happen.

For me, that wasn’t an option. If I don’t fulfill my duties to Coin, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and probably countless more people will suffer. The districts would undoubtably suffer. Gale would suffer. My mother and Prim would suffer.

I was proven right when later that same night Plutarch came to visit me again. I'd been lying on my side to avoid having to see Gale, who was still soldered to my bedside. My good side was thankfully opposite his seat.

When the Gamemaker spoke I thought I would be forced back to work. Forced to head back to the rebels and engage in their plans.

And I was resigned to it, well aware all along that I wouldn't be given the luxury of time to grieve the hurt I just caused Peeta. Or even the pain I knew I was inflicting upon Gale. The constant seesaw my heart was bouncing up and down on.

I was endlessly thankful that I was still pumped with morphling when Plutarch said that I was needed in Coin's office, because it heavily suppressed any real emotion I had brewing deep inside.

Morphling can cause you to let down your guard sometimes, make you say or do things you wouldn't otherwise or allow things to happen you'd ordinarily have the sense to stop. But it also causes all your severe emotions, all your heightened feelings, to dull as well. And for that, in light of everything that had just transpired, I was eternally grateful for.

When the doctor had removed all the needles from my arm, and I had been given a robe to go over my hospital gown—which, shockingly, was even uglier and thinner and itchier than the gowns they gave in the Capitol hospitals—Gale escorts me down the halls, through the corridors and to President Coin’s office.

I don’t speak to him the entire time. Looking at him makes my stomach churn with remorse and regret, though I’m not even sure who those feelings are directed towards. I’m not even sure how to articulate the way I feel right now.

And, as much as I try to force him out of my mind—as much as I do my best to rip him out from wherever he crawled beneath my skin and flooded into my veins—I inexplicably miss Peeta.

In more ways than I even know how to decipher. Even inside my own head.

I thought that feeling of longing would have ebbed away once he was rescued from Snow and his twisted mansion, but even knowing he’s safe here in Thirteen, I still crave his presence next to me.

I still want him next to me almost all the time.

It’s at least partially attributable to the fact that for so long, it was me and Peeta against the world. He has been my partner in this whirlwind rollercoaster since the first games and, even when I feel like every single aspect that could potentially go wrong has, sometimes it seems like I couldn’t have gotten luckier with who was chosen that fateful reaping to stand by my side the entire horrific ride.

I wipe my eyes as inconspicuously as I can but Gale sees and almost instinctively puts his hand on my shoulder. And proves he knows me better than I give him credit for. “I’ll talk to him, Katniss.”

“Don’t,” I immediately hiss. “You’ll just make it worse, Gale. He-he,” I struggle with explaining what I want to say and I curse my best friend for even addressing my moment of weakness because now I have to go talk to Coin, looking like an unstable mess—with a near bullet wound—and I blurt out the very first thing I can think of. “He doesn’t even know you, okay? You’ll just-“

There’s no malice in Gale’s voice as he softly replies, “Well, he was fine when I went and saw him before you woke up.”

I stop now, dead in my tracks. “You saw him? After I was shot?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I felt like should check on him. I know...” He pauses and looks upwards and I recognize, once again, this whole thing isn’t easy for him either. “I know he means a lot to you. And I heard what happened when he saw you go down. So I went and checked in on him...” He stops again before shrugging nonchalantly. “He was calmer by the time I saw him. He was nice. He’s always been nice.” At that Gale rolls his eyes. “Too nice. Probably why Snow wanted to hurt him.”

I start walking again, moving ahead of him a few paces. “You’re not helping,” I state, my voice a monotone.

“I’ll talk to him,” Gale offers again, running to catch up.

“Please don’t, okay? Just let it be. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me, I don’t want to have to worry about what you’ll say to him.”

I vigorously shake off his hand on my shoulder when he tries to comfort me again, and feel him root into place as I make the rest of the way to Coin’s office.

And I wonder if I hurt him now too.

I wonder if I managed to completely annihilate them both from me in one night.

/

Much to my surprise and, to be completely honest, my utter disappointment, Coin doesn’t want me to head back out and fight for the rebellion. She doesn’t want me to even film more propos.

Plutarch does, but his ideas now are pretty frivolous and have more to do with him being still stuck in the fantasy of putting on a good show and less to do with fighting for the good of the country.

Coin simply says, “You did your job, Miss Everdeen. You united the districts,” in her calm, disingenuous—completely unsettling—tone.

And argument I put up is met with a simple shake of the head and a pursing of her lips. All indisputable rejections, her cold, blank eyes telling me wordlessly that in no way could I sway her once her mind was made up.

Still doesn’t stop me from trying though.

“I want to help the rebels,” I plead, looking to Boggs behind Coin’s chair, his face still stoic but his eyes giving me a look that isn’t altogether dismissive.

That was something. It was more than I was getting from either Coin or Plutarch.

Coin though brushes off my words and cuts me down infuriatingly quick with a single sentence. “Plutarch wanted to see Peeta earlier, talk about some propos. But when he sent for him, one of the doctors working with Peeta said he wasn’t having a good day.”

Her tone is smooth and pleasant enough but there was an undercurrent to her words that she knew I would hear. “Do you know how Peeta is? I would have thought with your waking up this morning, he’d be in better shape than he was but if you two aren’t getting-“

“Me and Peeta are fine,” I snap, not liking whatever she’s implying.

She nods, slowly at me, choosing her next sentiment carefully. “Well, let’s hope so. We need both of you now to remain the faces of this revolution. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything rash because of... problems between you and your... between you and Peeta.”

I’m shaking my head, feigning certainty, before she even finishes. “That’s not why I want to help the rebels,” I insist firmly.

“Irregardless, Miss Everdeen, we don’t have a job for you. You aren’t qualified to go into the fight and we no longer need your propos to unite the districts. Your job is done. Thank you for your help.”

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m being definitively dismissed now. Indefinitely.

I don’t make any effort to keep my cool, instead choosing to storm out of the room, slamming the door cacophonously behind me and wonder why I let that woman get to me so much. Why her words and implications slice me open like a knife.

Why no matter how much I try, I just can’t like her.

Something about her rubs me the wrong way and, once again, I wish Peeta was here with me in the room, because he of all people could understand what about Coin felt off and strange and so familiar.

I curse myself again, as I suddenly miss him even more than before.

Unable to force myself to put my focus elsewhere—especially now that Gale is surely angry too—I change directions and head towards the recovery room.

I don’t even knock before entering. I push the door open, only to find him sitting on top of his bed, a sketchbook in hand, a lot more tranquil than I pictured.

He looks up as I enter—and then, simultaneously freeze in the doorway, like the coward I truly am inside. Before he can speak though, I blurt out, “I know you’re mad about me kissing Gale and I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but it wasn’t... it wasn’t exactly...” I stop because once again, I’m unprepared and out of my element and have no rhyme or reason in what I’m trying to say. I don’t know the right thing to say. I never know the right thing to say.

Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t screw always everything up. “It wasn’t,” I finally force myself to continue, off his patient and somewhat bewildered glance. “It wasn’t what I wanted... I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t, I don’t even know what-“

He finally puts me out of my misery now. “Katniss,” he speaks my name along with a sigh. I watch carefully, feeling a lump build in my throat, as his blonde brows furrow over his baby blues.

He shakes his head, slow and calm. Far more reasonable than I ever anticipated. “I’m not mad at you, Katniss,” he promises, with all the genuineness in the world.

I bite my lip, befuddled by his words. “But... where have you been then?” Why did you leave me? A small voice in the back of my mind demands.

He shrugs, his gaze falling down to his bed now. His demeanor is almost embarrassed, I realize with a start.

“I wanted to give you and Gale space. I’ve been practically mauling you since you woke up so I thought-“

“But I didn’t want you to leave,” I abruptly burst out, unable to shove the words down any longer.

A pang of embarrassment shoots through me though, for the pathetic crack, evident in my tone. And I mentally berate myself.

Not for the embarrassment. For the pathetic crack itself.

And for the fact that somehow I’m the frenzied one here and Peeta is the voice of reason.

Which used to be our norm but after everything that’s transpired, I would have thought things would be reversed by now.

He just stares at me for a long moment, carefully considering his next words.

Finally, he opens his arms slowly and utters, “Come here,” in a tender murmur and I practically fly into his arms before I can second guess the offer.

I feel my injured side screaming as I curl up like a ribbon in his arms, but I surpress the wince to the best of my ability and instead bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent like a mad girl.

He softly presses his lips to my messy locks, carefully massaging the back of my head soothingly. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he whispers, barely loud enough for even me to hear. “I was just embarrassed. I know—I’ve always known deep down—that it’s not right for me to constantly hold you to the things you said in the games. Or to project my own feelings onto you.”

“You didn’t,” I refute venomously, my brows knitting together.

“Katniss, I know you and Gale have had something between you for a long time.”

“Gale was just a friend until me and you came back from our first games. Maybe he wanted to be more even before, I don’t know, but I never felt anything romantic for him. I swear.”

“You don’t have to defend your feelings to me,” he states softly.

“I know, it’s just...” I sigh, moving to sit upright across his thighs. “No matter what I do, it’s wrong. If I say I’m confused, you’re both hurting. If I say I want to kiss you or sleep with you or just be with you, I’m leading you on because I can’t-I can’t make any promises about my feelings right now, because I don’t even know up from down anymore. And if I say I do or don’t want to kiss Gale or be around him or hunt with him still, I’m hurting him or giving him the wrong idea or telling him the wrong things, and it all gets confused and there’s an entire rebellion that I’m the face of, and now I don’t even know if I’m a part of that, but Snow and his followers all hate me still so I know family still won’t be safe until this is all over. And you. You and Johanna and Annie went through the ringer over me. And Gale gets upset whenever he sees us together—it hurts him to see us—but I can’t always seperate you two from one another and I just-I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Peeta lets me rant the whole entire spiel out, his hand slowly moving in circles to rub my back, from the top of my spine down to my backside. “Katniss,” he whispers once I’m done. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I get it. You’re under immense pressure. The last thing I want to do is make things harder on you.”

“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head insistently. “You’re not making anything worse, Peeta. It’s-it’s not you.”

“Okay,” he concedes and unconsciously wraps me up tighter in his arms. “Just relax, okay? Relax and breathe.”

I quiver and quake against him. “I don’t think I can.”

I barely realize I’m crying until Peeta leans down to kiss my tearstained cheek softly. “Katniss, it’s okay. I’m not mad. And Gale shouldn’t be. If he is, then that’s on him. The rebellion isn’t just your responsibility. Do not let them put all that weight on your shoulders. I know they already have but it’s not all your responsibility. And no one is going to let anything happen to your mom or sister.” He pushes my hair away from my forehead, pressing his lips there for a long moment. “Or you. I promise I will not let anything else happen to you.”

I swallow hard as he rests his forehead against my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that it will make my head stop spinning somehow. Deep breaths to center myself fail miserably and in the end, I feel my bruised ribs and lung disagree with the movement and ache worse than before.

Peeta feels me cringing against him in pain and remains careful as he shifts, reaching for something off his bedside table.

I’m in too much pain to react as pushes off my robe and tugs my hospital gown down in order to slide against my skin, his hand holding it firmly to my side.

The icy temperature brings some sort of relief to me almost instantly, and I let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling my rigid body relax even a minuscule amount for the first time.

“I don’t blame you for having feelings for Gale,” Peeta murmurs, drawing my attention back to our conversation and away from my painful left side. “And if you want to be with him, I won’t hold it against you. I’m not going to lie, I’d be ... sad but... it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be your friend. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be at jere for you however you needed me. There’s no ultimatums here, Katniss. I’m still here for you, even if you’d rather be with Gale.”

I pause for a long moment, absorbing his words. He’d be willing to be my friend, even if I hurt him? Even if I chose someone else over him? Even after everything we went through, even after all the ways he’d been abused because Snow could see how much I care for him? How much I need him. He’s still willing to put it all aside and be there for me, no strings attached.

And I try not to compare but my brain draws the conclusion almost involuntarily, and I can’t stop myself from realizing that, in the same position, Gale would likely not be telling me the same thing.

I burrow my face deeper in his shoulder, shutting my eyes in exhaustion.

Peeta catches me off-guard, moving my hair aside to kiss my neck, eliciting a flare of heat in the place where his lips brush my skin, and I may not know exactly how I feel, but I know in that moment exactly what I want right now.

“The only person I want to be with tonight is you,” I whisper honestly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to somehow understand an emotion I don’t know how to admit. “The only person I want right now is you, Peeta.”

#everlark #thg #hunger games #my writing #asks 🦋 #everlurked 🌸✨

[algernoninwonderland]

Hey uh hetalia is about a bunch of countries running around being stupid. It doesnt promote japanese imperialism (japan is made fun of just like every other countries) OR fascism, like... it's pretty much all satire and anti-war it's not that deep... (the axis powers so called are NOT GLORIFIED. They're described as fucking useless also they cover history BEFORE and AFTER ww2) as opposed to countryhumans where the largest ship is literally nazi germany x soviet union

Hey, anon!

Hetalia is indeed about a bunch of anthropomorphised countries running around being stupid, with lots of silly gags. It has a fun art style, fun characters-countries.

Some of these countries happen to be, oopsie, Japan wearing a WW2 naval uniform, Germany wearing Wehrmacht and Waffen SS uniforms, Italy wearing WW2 uniforms, all of which are quite detailed too. Together, they form the Axis powers, a military alliance that formed during WW2 to fight against the Allies. It’s in the title of the anime. 

There’s a storyline taking place during WW2. Wonder why you don’t mention that, anon. You probably forgot about that. Funny how memory works sometimes.

Now, would you agree that Germany committed war crimes and crimes against humanity during the second world war, including among other things the Holocaust? Would you agree that Italy was fascist during WW2 and committed war crimes and crimes against humanity during that time? Would you agree that Japan militarism has lead to uncountable war crimes and crimes against humanity, including but not only the Nanjing Massacre of 1937? 

Wait, you don’t have to agree, those things did happen, and if you think they haven’t, you’re a holocaust denier, a revisionist and a disgusting human being, simple as that.

The manga and anime pretend it’s possible to use these aesthetics without having to address the fact that, hey, maybe the people who wore nazi uniforms were nazis (or part of the royal family in the UK) and maybe having Germany be a funny bloke while wearing his nazi uniform isn’t a very good idea? Maybe presenting China and Japan as good pals is disingenuous? Maybe some of the jokes are really in poor taste? 

The thing is, you could have had all these characters be anything but the representation of countries they are with the aesthetics they have adopted. You could have them be, I don’t know, part of an international campus, have them be a bunch of lads, have Germany wear Lederhosen, have Italy cooka da meataball, have France rock his striped jumper and whatnot instead of his WW1 uniform. No need to sweep horrifying warcrimes under the rug, because nothing there is making you think about it.

The aesthetics Hetalia uses are referential, they send back to other things. A character wearing a suit of armour sends back to the Middle Ages, for instance. The costumes Hetalia’s main cast wear mean things. The characters inside these costumes are shown as good-spirited chaps, fun scamps, and we don’t mention all the bad things that happened associated with these uniforms. Uniforms that are lovingly drawn, with impressive accuracy, too.

Hetalia’s aesthetics clash with its intended goal, fun comedy between bishounens, with some mildly stereotypical humour making for most of the jokes. Or is it really a clash?

What do I think of that? It’s simple, really. That’s a tacit endorsement of Japanese imperialism and fascism. You’re meant to think, aww, poor Germany, he likes to bake cakes, isn’t that cute and loveable? And that’d be really easy to get behind that if not for the uniform he wears all the time. Because Germany wears the damn uniform, several of them, in fact. So does Japan. So does Italy. And the rest of the cast as well.

By refusing to address all that comes with these uniforms, Hetalia makes them acceptable, and clumsily tries to decontextualise these aesthetics, but not really, but also really? Uh… Let’s only keep the good parts, alright? They’re bishounens, they’re sexy, funny and silly!! Weren’t the Axis powers funny bishounen, y’all? Don’t they look good in their uniforms? Don’t worry, jokes are made about them too so that it isn’t too obvious that they are meant to represent countries that are responsible for war crimes and crimes against humanity? Won’t you buy the manga/DVD/Nendoroids and not think about all the war crimes and crimes against humanity? Pretty please?

That isn’t directly glorification. The term I used in an earlier post was “commodification”. When you turn something, anything, into something that is a commodity, that you can buy and sell. Japan is less sensitive to the fact that, well, maybe the nazis weren’t the good guys, or worth looking up to in the first place. It’s an actual problem with Japan that needs to be addressed.

As for C*untryhumans, I didn’t know that existed, it seems pretty awful and I don’t care for it. One thing about that, though. It’s not because something worse than Hetalia exists that Hetalia isn’t ideologically disgusting.

There are lots and lots and lots of things you can enjoy that aren’t ideologically perfect, and that have questionable element in them, while not pretending that they aren’t there. I quite like Lupin the Third, but man, the nazi stuff that sometimes pops up sucks massively. It’s there. I won’t pretend it’s not there because it’d be dishonest to do so.

Why can’t you do the same with Hetalia? Well, you can’t, because the entire premise is rotten to its core. It’s not really satire, because satire points at what it makes fun of, while Hetalia makes vague gestures and purposefully omits what would make Japan, Germany and co characters you don’t want to engage with and spend money for. I did not walk out of Jojo Rabbit wanting to buy nazi memorabilia.

Anyway, hope you have a good day and find something less vile to enjoy, anon! Hetalia has been banned in South Korea and you really ought to wonder why that was

#hetalia #hetalia discourse #in the year of our lord 2020 #anti hetalia