#i dont expect many will read it but

[deathandthemaiden23]

Bro idk who's around me rn idk who's really still here in this fandom idk who will even see this or read it and i dont wanna get into it (proceeds to get into it) but ive been on a grand fucking expedition to confront past trauma and shit lately which whoopeee what else is new for what basically amounts to a dreamworks adult obsessed with the grim reaper from shrek specifically i think there's probably an actual good reason this is my biggest blorbo yet (which by the way, my good bitches, is truly saying something) beyond "big scary wolf sexy" but like anyways its been a hot fuckin second of me just sort of existing in purgatory with basically only this character to keep me real company the whole time chipping away at fanfic and makin doodles here and there while trying to solve the great big fuckin mystery of hey pal is there any particular reason you spend most of your free time fantasizing at length about being loved and cared for by literal fuckin death but um i kinda sorta had been making peace lately with the very real possibility that probably the only reappearances from Death we'd see going forward in this franchise would kinda just be relegated to stuff like being a playable character in that dumbass mario kart game they made recently that they had the audacity to charge $50 for the version with him in it and I was immediately prepared to shell out the fuckin money regardless anyways tldr this is my longwinded way of saying bless harvey fuckin guillen for supposedly saying he wants to reprise his role as perrito in shrek 5 and specifically mentioning he wanted to know more about his backstory including the near death experience he had in the sock that he still wears like ok let me be clear im not getting my hopes up for shit im super excited about the idea of harvey and everybody reprising their roles for future shrek installments but i know shit be disappointing sometimes and it just be like that sometimes blablabla alright nothing is set in stone in this cursed ass timeline we're in bbbbbbut

✨️H O W E V E R✨️

I cannot help but think in some kind of weirdly jaded optimism that surely dreamworks would not fucking let the absolute furry cashcow that Death is go to fucking waste if they're bringing shrek back to the big screen it just seems incredibly fuckin stupid this big fuckin bastard gave everyone a boner when last wish dropped to the extent that i actually didnt know anything about last wish going in to see it in theaters the first time knew nothing of the plot who was in it whatever right THE ONLY FUCKIN KNOWLEDGE I HAD OF LAST WISH PRIOR TO SITTING DOWN AND WATCHING IT WAS "OH I GUESS THERE'S A WOLF CHARACTER AND EVERYONE WANTS TO FUCK HIM" LMFAO UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE FUCKIN YEAR RIGHT LOL anyways if dreamworks doesnt seize the opportunity to give him at least one more like visible cameo appearance anywhere in whatever they can squeeze out of the shrek franchise after it was dead (lmfao) for like years (the puss in boots show is little known to anyone sadly and also it seems vaguely noncanonical if that makes sense stuff gets said on the regular in that show that just seems too batshit even for shrek standards) I'll genuinely like die of shock the entertainment industry is chock full of companies just like dreamworks always achin to get their hands on another iconic character they can squeeze money out of ad infinitum and like i dont want that to happen with Death I dont but also... please just let him show up at least one more time dreamworks throw this bitch a bone im begging you you will make so much money i promise u the thirsty tumblr fans are no joke we'll bankroll your ass to the moon and back

I feel it would be remiss of me not to offer some form of content after all this impassioned war and peace length solilioquy about the scu (shrek cinematic universe) so here's an old WIP from forever ago im like 90% i havent posted here (if i have oh fuckin well tbh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) its a lil scene from chapter 2 of my death fic where he gets caught redhanded picking flowers for his crush because he's a dork ass loser and wants to impress her without coming on too strong lmao like bro she's so into you just go for it

#puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots death #lobo #muerte #puss in boots wolf #shrek #ramble time i guess #i pity you if you make it through this whole post #idk what this is to be totally honest with you #i dont expect many will read it but #idk ive been gone for a second and i just read a screenrant article that gave me the happies #i wanted to release the happies here on the tungle #where surely civility reigns #sentences i will not regret later #tw mentions of death #i mean like #obviously lmfao #its shrek news idk if anyone still talks about shrek news on here #i guess im just excited to see what they come up with

[gentil-minou]

"This is more about your ego and pride than Palestine" No its about putting pressure on a party that is supporting genocide

It's about logic

Biden and the DNC would rather cause dissent and dissatisfaction within their own party rather than call for a ceasefire

They know they can get away with it because they're a better option than Trump, because they know they could murder babies in front of you and you'll still vote for them.

So why would they call for a ceasefire when they don't need to?

That's why putting the pressure on them, saying they won't get our vote or saying we are looking for other options is so important.

Because that's the only way they will change.

By saying "Vote Blue No Matter Who", you give him and the DNC permission to permit genocide despite the vast majority of public opinion. You say they can do whatever they want because you will vote for them anyways.

You tell them they don't need to do anything else. That in fact they can do whatever they want. You've shown them you are so terrified of your own government that you would rather lie down and let it walk all over you than put any pressure on them at all

They have a year to make a change. Biden could end this all tomorrow, but why would he when he has you doing his dirty work?

#there is nothing to be proud of here there is no ego here #if anything i am deeply ashamed that my vote and my country has allowed this to get so bad and that my tax dollars have led to this #i didnt read the whole ask because it was abother essay but if you are implying im voting third party because of an ego you are part of #the problem here #but im sad because so many people i thought were friends or people i admired have shown they dont actually care abouot the world #if it were my country's people that biden was funding a genocide against they would still expect me to support it #i want desperately to never think about politics or any of this but when millions of lives are directly at the mercy of my government #the least i can do is not give them a pat on the back and look away for my own comfort #at least in finding out who to block and unfollow i guess #us politics #joe biden

[alastorsfuckassbob]

Vulnerable

Alastor x Fem!Reader- Part 3

WELCOME TO THE LOWKEY FAN SERVICEY PORTION OF OUR BROADCAST🗣️! Sorry for the long wait..uh ANYWAY- Its just a silly little steamy make out session I felt like writing lowkey unnecessarily added into the plot. Its character development This is done mostly on the grounds of I felt bad for being slow with the plot and wanted to give you radio demon lovers out there some crumbs.<3

✨The plot✨(these are getting worse as we go)

Our depressed dear y/n self deprecates in front of a "hang in there" kitten poster. before bitching about the cold on her walk home.Oh shit her house is broken into. In this life its just you and your shitty pocket knife. Nvm its a cool dress! She then spends a good half hour thinking about their old relationship's spicy times.

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️

-Mentions of domestic violence

-Mentions of alcohol

-Fuckass Val

-A little make-out sesh (smut is scary so you can use your little imagination to figure out what happens after)

Mornings in hell were colder than one might expect, despite the nearly constant blaze of sinner set fire. At its heart, Hell was frigidly cold, especially at night. A part of you had gotten used to the way it clawed deeply against your skin. However, the other part of you secretly begged to some god somewhere you didn't quite believe in to make the sun rise a little faster. It wasn't necessary by any means, Hell wasn't anything more than a desert. All you had to do was wait. The crisp morning would lose its glacial influence as the sunlight reached out to touch it just as it always did. You just needed to be patient. You take in a deep breath, attempting to let go of your displeasure.The sharp frosty air pierced your lungs, unknitting the last strings of warmth from your skin on impact. Your teeth began to chatter. You curl into the softness of your wings, it wasn't much, but it helped.

From your recently awakened slumber, you had briefly forgotten the events of the night before. However, upon seeing angel slumped in bed beside from you, the realisation took root. The recollection flattened your heart like a careless truck running over a measly stray bit of garbage

Your performance last night was nothing more than a falsified forgery. It was adorned with the typical strokes and details found in your normal act, but it was so hopelessly fake. Valentino could always tell when you were phoning it in. Despite his fraudulent demeanour, he demanded authenticity from you. After your previous..altercation, you just didn't have it in you to thread your harsh edges in salacious intent. You were an excellent dancer, but you hated the prying eyes that glued themselves onto your figure. Val wouldn't be happy with that. You were already voiceless, he already owned your soul. He couldn't physically take much more, but he could still make your life a relentless nightmare. The punishments he so easily gave out always had a creatively cruel flair. The thoughts brought on a familiar uneasiness. You could take whatever he threw at you, you wouldn't like it but you would endure. You didn't have to like it. Your grounds were barren in the terms of genuine will. You didn't have a reason to keep living, you just refused to die. You would endure until the red toned city around you pathetically crumbled back into the ground. You would watch the world you lived in reflect the terms of your anguish in twisted perfection over and over again...All by the hands of Valentino. You couldn't do much else. Your dimly lit soul had grown more accustomed to calloused hands and absinthe than you wanted to admit..It was just the way of things.

Great now you were cold and stressed out.

Your mind drifted to Angel. His crumpled hair and soft arms outstretched in your direction. The night before, he had spilled a glass of gin soaked secrets, revealing more than you expected him to. His drunken tears leaked into the brimstone walls of your heart. You learned his name was Anthony in life among other things. He probably didn't remember opening up to you, you were surprised you did.

He had been in Hell much longer than you had been..he had been with Valentino much longer than you had..years longer. The thought held more pain than your sore bruise lined body could feel.

Valentino had the poor habit of misguiding his frustration. As much as you pissed him off, your groans of pain just weren't as satisfying as Angels. Even if Val dragged your limp body across the studio, his nails dug deeply into the flesh of your skull, he wouldn't be satisfied if he didn't hurt Angel too. You couldn't help but wonder how he put up with it all. He was a lot stronger than people give him credit for. How long had Angel been his favourite toy? How many other souls tied to Valentino fucked up as you so often did? How did he deal with the brunt of that frustration tipped in his direction? How many times was he hurt because you didn't give Val what he wanted?

He was an angry disagreeable man he would always find some excuse to take that out on others.You knew that, you just hadn't stopped to think how many times had you been the excuse he used to justify how he treated Angel. Your hand brushed a stray strand of hair from his peaceful face. You didn't want to cause him any more pain.

Angel at least looked warm. He still slept soundly curled up towards the edge of the bed. His legs were neatly cocooned into a pile of various blankets. You stretched, shaking the sleep from your eyes and the fog from your brain.

You stood up glancing back on his sleeping form. A part of you felt bad for leaving Angel wordlessly.. His night wasn't great either, even if it was your fault, you could still help make it better. You could also make it worse. You couldn't risk that. He would get over your sudden absence, but what if you said the wrong thing and he hated you for it. He should hate you, after all it was your fault the night went to shit.

I mean even if for some reason he didn't want you to leave, it would be easier if he didn't have to explain why you're here to the literal princess of hell. Its not like you could tell her yourself. You'd rather walk home a bit early and save him the trouble.

You glance at the digital clock stationed on his nightstand, It read 5am. Hopefully the other residents of the hotel weren't early risers. that would really be hard to explain.

You walked into his bathroom to at least attempt to make yourself a bit more presentable. You let out the breathy shell of a laugh; amused by the emotionally supportive posters and positive notes that adorn the wall around the sink. He was trying in some way, he was trying to make the best of things. He didn't have anyone to remind him it was going to be okay besides the small grey kitten saying "hang in there". on one of the larger posters. You pick up a note in Angel's swirled handwriting

"You're hot in more ways than just physically! Nice ass but nicer everything else"

It was a little silly, but it made you feel better for a second. Your eye gets caught on your hellish exterior in the mirror. God- you looked rough.

The mascara stains under your eyes did nothing but highlight the heavy bags that already resided there. Your hair had awkwardly shifted back into its natural texture in some places and erupted in frizz in others. You were still wearing that burlesque outfit Valentino had picked for you. Russet red dried blood and what you assumed to be half a fruity cocktail stained the front. You looked like an extra in a poorly funded zombie film.

Ironically the outfit had been one of your favorites before then. It reminded you of Alastor- big surprise there- almost everything does at this point.

The cut of the top and the off shoulder sleeves reminded you of the dress he had bought you to celebrate your new part time gig singing at that little bar downtown. The outfit's color reflected it marvelously as well- sadly the similarities seemed to end there. The outfit had numerous cut outs and a slit up each side. It didn't leave much to the imagination, but those subtle details kept it in your good graces. Not that it mattered, it was practically ruined now. Maybe you thought too deeply, but it started to feel painfully ironic.

You had sewn into the outfit memories of an ill-fated gentle romance and a shared cup of camomile tea, but ultimately it doesn't change what it really was, stained with the shadow of lust...Just as you had been.

The outfit would never truly resemble that dress. Even if you found an ounce of similarity. Even if you dragged it to the tailor and used its corroded bones to recreate the dress exactly.They weren't the same, they could never be.

You weren't the same.

You hadn't been for quite some time.

In the end, it wouldn't matter if he would ever consider accepting you in the condition you're in. Your skin will always sustain the weight of Valentino's hand. The vulnerability in your soul had been sparked by fear as opposed to love. Whats done is done. Even if you had been crafted with the object of love in mind your heart had been distorted beyond the point of recognition, it could never really be the same again.

With that, you didn't want him to find you anymore. It would be worse to watch him fall out of love with you as he realised you weren't the same. The love you had so protectively harboured in your heart for the devilish man was cut loose. It drifted away into the rotting sea of your soul surrounding it. You couldn't bring yourself to tear down the post you had previously tied it to. Even if you told yourself you couldn't love him any longer, the hole he left in your heart was too large for your will to cover.

You shrug on the coat you had slung on the floor before crashing last night and slide on your shoes.

You grab a pen from Angel's desk-if you could even call it that. It was nothing more than an old bar stool with a jar of pens and a pink glittery notepad. You scrawled a simplistic message. You didn't want him to worry about you. Even if he said he didn't care, he was sensitive. You didn't want to hurt him any more than you had already.

" Hey Angie! I went home- don't worry I wasn't kidnapped! Eat something for breakfast or I swear to god I'll make you eat an eyebrow pencil next time I see you..Love ya lots<3" Your handwriting was a bit messier than normal but it did the job okay.

You walked to the door, opening it it quietly, the lock behind you clicking as you shut the door to Angel Dust's room.

Finding your way out of the hotel was trickier than you expected but nothing you couldn't manage. Once outside you began to shiver. You tugged your coat tightly against your skin, not that it helped much. You refused to fly in such icy temperatures. The wind would be far less intrusive at a slower speed.

The walk from your apartment to the hotel was a little over an hour. Perhaps if you weren't so hung over it wouldn't have taken you as long.The sun just begun to peak out from the horizon, simultaneously allowing enough space for the nightly wind to have free passage, and the blinding light of the sun to assault your eyes; your own special little fuck you from the universe.

The steps up leading to your third floor flat were much steeper than you had previously recalled. Hauling your body up them took a lot more energy than you care to admit. Out of breath and slightly sweaty you were finally headed down towards your room.

Your steps creak in harmony with the ancient building's crumbling walls. You glance down the hallway at what you had hoped would be a chance to decompress.

You stop abruptly a few units from your own. The door was ajar. You pull a short pocket knife from the side of your shoe. The rusted knob looked no worse than it already did. The lock however, featured a few more scratches than you recalled.

You were too tired for this bullshit, You hadn't actually used a knife before. Stabbing people seemed like an intuitive thing to do, but your inexperience left you drenched in anxiety. Nothing within you wanted to go inside, but your legs begged for rest. There really wasn't any use in preventing the inevitable. Eventually you would go inside or whoever was inside would come out. Either way its stab or be stabbed. The door whines as you slide yourself inside. You knew the situation was dangerous, all you had was a shitty knife you mostly used to open packages. If someone was here to kill you..without your voice no one would even know. You pushed the thought aside. You could still run. You could still fly. You weren't hopeless.You crept throughout the apartment with the knife raised steadily in front of you- ready to fight whatever had arrived.. Nothing ever came. By the first two rooms you had lost your concern. It was just how you left it. You stepped into your bathroom, locking the door behind you. You must have just forgotten to close the door behind you the day before.

You glanced around the bathroom before you noticed it was not in the disrepair you'd left it in. A fresh bouquet of roses sat neatly in the vase, the old dried flowers tied and hung above them to use in your next bath. The radio you had so unfortunately melted been replaced by an antique model adorned in golden trim and a stained glass depiction of a small canary. Lastly, a neatly wrapped vermillion box sat on the opposite side of your vanity, a wax sealed envelope tucked between the box and the large velvety bow.

This was a bit ( really fucking) weird. Curiosity over took you as you reached for the dark inky envelope.

You trace the underside of the waxy seal with the edge of your knife, effectively tearing it from the envelopes dark paper. You unfolded the letter unsure where something like this would even come from. You had admirers, but anything they said or gifted to you went through Valentino first. He was the only one he deemed fit to give or take anything from you. He was greedy in the gifts he received and thoughtless in the gifts he gave. None of this felt thoughtless.

Dearest y/n,

I believe it is time you were compensated for all that I have put you through these past two days. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color. If it is to your liking, please wear it tonight. I hope to see you there.

With love,

-Yours truly

Val had gifted you dresses and other fashions in the past, more for his own satisfaction than as a reward. He rarely wrote the notes himself or even delivered the gift. He left it up to an unlucky assistant or just threw the garment in your face in passing.. Nothing about this felt like anything he would do. Perhaps one of his newer assistants didn't get the memo he is a massive piece of shit.

Regardless, you were curious to see what odd fantasy you were fulfilling tonight. You untied the ribbon. Upon lifting the lid, you realised today was going to end up much stranger than you'd hoped. Nothing about this made sense. The dress reminded you of something you might have worn out in your younger days..Was Val planning some weird 20s fetish night or just attempting to fuck with you? He knew the details of your past, with the exception of Alastor's involvement. Perhaps it was some form of psychological warfare you didn't understand.

Upon closer inspection , the dress was astoundingly quite tasteful. You pulled the item from the box pleased it kept going. Usually if the purchased dress was "too long" it would be cut short before it arrived in your hands, causing you a stressful few hours with your sewing machine fixing seams and hem lines.

You slid of the shell of your dirtied clothes and stepped into the dress. It fit you like a glove. The familiar 1920's silhouette and subtle inclusion of art deco threatened to pull you back into your old habits. It really was a gorgeous dress. The beaded scarlet fabric clung to your hips before slightly flaring at your knees. It sported a neckline adorned with crystals that dipped off of your shoulders and into the sleeves The back of the dress scooped down to your lower back a deeper toned train following it. Despite your otherwise disheveled appearance, you felt beautiful.

You look down at the red fabric pooling behind you, you don't want it to, but your mind begins to shift.

1929: New Orleans: The Bar

Your hands shake more than you wished they would, no matter how many times you sang here it always left you feeling anxious. The music sways in tandem with the bars patrons, mimicking the constant lull of conversation. You began to sing.Your voice cuts through the clinking of glasses and exhilarating cheers with a crystalline ring. You glance over to the bar in view of Alastor. His eyes trapped in a half lidded love led daze, filled with nothing but adoration for you.

You glance back down at your hands. They are covered in black velvet, contrasted by a simple pearl bracelet hanging loosely from your wrist. It was one of the many from Alastor on your birthday earlier that year. You had insisted it was far too much, and he insisted you were making far too big a deal of it. He wanted you to feel appreciated and loved, what better way to accomplish that than with a meaningful gift.

He wasn't fantastic with words when it came to you. His hands craved contact with your own. The sentiment he needed to convey didn't fully exist within the bounds of english, or french for that matter. You were worth more than any riches the world could offer you. He could spend his nights bottling starlight and collecting bits of moon and lay them at your feet, and he still wouldn't feel like it was enough. His mind drifted to your past. You were private with the majority of the details. He had collected the story over time from thoughtless anecdotes you mentioned in passing. He knew life before him hadn't been kind.Your mother had died during your birth, but her face stayed firmly in your grasp. Your father hated you for that reason, and he was not a pacifistic man. He felt you had taken the love of his life and left him alone with nothing more than a portrait you hadn't yet grown into. He had been sickly the majority of your life. The more you grew in likeness to your mother the less he fought to get better. He died when you were only 14, leaving you to fend for your siblings. You had raised them just as much as you raised yourself. If the world wasn't going to gift you a delicate existence. Alastor certainly would be. In that moment he vowed to make sure you never felt worried or lost ever again, he couldn't bare the thought of it.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the song climaxed into a loud jazzy finish. You glanced over at him again with a smile. You stepped down from the stage, the red fabric trailing behind you. You walked across the bar and into his arms. He instinctively wraps around your waist, his hand nestled into your own. The moment is pure ecstasy.

"If I could on pick one sound to hear for the rest of eternity it would be your darling voice mon cher" His honey toned voice whispered into your ear. You looked marvellous but the sound of your voice was entrancing.

Your eyes roll, a satirical air taking over your tone. "How many times did you rehearse that line Al?"

" Very evidently not enough. You've made i clear I needed a bit more rehearsal" His familiar sarcastic attitude evident in his tone. "For such a pretty face you have a hard time accepting a compliment"

You giggle into his chest.He placed a kiss against your forehead. Subconsciously you lean into his touch. You can't help but want to be closer to him. Your arms stretch around his neck effectively pulling him into a hug.

"My my, someones touchy this evening" his distinctive laugh following shortly after. It was the kind of laugh you could hear across a crowded room twenty years in the future and immediately know it was him. your hands travel to either side of his face, cupping it gently. Before you know it, your lips meet his. This kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is imbued with ever ounce of love you have ever felt for each other. His grasp on your waist tightens, pulling you in as close as humanly possible. The dark brown strands of his hair tangle into your hands. The kiss heats up faster than either of you care to admit before you finally register you're in public. He quickly composes himself, as do you. A sly smile stretches across his face. He glances down at your dress, his mind floating aimlessly searching for an excuse to be alone with you. Despite how deeply he loved you, he wasn't the type to display that in public. It felt a bit unsavoury. You were his and his alone.

"Darling, I think you may have torn your dress, during your wonderful performance. Would you allow me to help you fix it in a more, secluded location"

You looked down at your dress not entirely understanding what he meant. He always had your best interest in mind, perhaps he saw something you didn't. Besides, you didn't want to ruin the dress he bought you any further than you already had unknowingly.

"Oh I didn't realise it had torn. Of course, thank you love."

You take his hand in yours and lead him into the small dressing room. It was really just an extra office the owner had put a few mirrors, a changing screen, and vanity into. You stood in front of the taller of the two mirrors attempting to locate the tear.

"Alastor love, I don't see what you mean perhaps it was the ligh-"

Before you can finish your sentence his lips are pressed against your own. You lean into the kiss grasping onto his vest to steady yourself. You're caught in your own personal whirlwind. Your hands are glued against his sepia skin.

He breaks the kiss for a moment kissing the corner of your mouth trailing down your jaw and onto your neck. He sucks lightly against your skin

You're so precious to me y/n" his voice is deeper than it normally was. It held each desire he felt and simultaneously every ounce of adoration.

You let out a soft gasp as he lightly bites the side of your neck. He travels along it as your hands tangle themselves in his hair once more. God you didn't want this to end, but you wanted to feel closer to him. You drag him away from your neck placing your lips against his once more.Your hands trace the outline of his shoulders. His hands explore the curve of your spine and the softness of your waist. He lifts you up and sits you against the vanity. Subconsciously your legs wrap around his waist deepening the kiss. (scream)

"I have never loved someone the way I love you Alastor..thank you for letting me" You breathe out in between kisses.

He wasn't one to let people in. Not truly, he had a public persona and a private one. You were glad to get to know the esteemed radio host outside of the studio. You were so glad he let you seen him the way he was so afraid to be perceived as...Vulnerable.

A/N: LOL IM SORRY THAT ONE WAS KINDA SHORT. Also please let me know it the writing style and lengths are working. I've never really written before so Idk the right way to do this. Thanks for reading :) <3

-Also congrats to me for not using a song as the crutch to come up with a title.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #im knawing at the bars of my encloser #Me writing Al in the present challenge: IMPOSSIBLE #this is so short im sorry #also was not expecting many people to read these so thank you guys i love you #you best believe the shitty song fic titles are coming back next chapter #youre meeting him and having a big ol fight next chapter i just dont want yall to be happy ig

[newspecies]

"the vast majority of legal persecution against early queers was focused on men" ARE YOU INSANE

#rot.txt #DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG WOMEN WERE FORCED TO MARRY MEN OR DIE. HUH. WHERE AM I #this is from the section in the new hbomberguy video where he talks about james somertons misogyny and lesbophobia btw #SOMEONES BITTER THAT WOMEN KISS IN CARTOONS SOMETIMES!!! #AS IF THAT ERASES THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF MISOGYNY IN SO MANY CULTURES!!!!!!! GOOD GOD #sorry somerton is just so insanely stupid i cant get over it. why is he like that #like i dont know maybe this isnt important but i remember being asked as a kid to pick a greek city state to live in #but i was a girl. so none of them were good choices because apparently i would be forced to have children no matter which one i picked #and i guess it just stuck with me. if the boys liked to fight they got to pick sparta and if they liked to read then it was athens #but what did the girls get. a little more freedom in certain places but ultimately the same expectation. have babies or die #in hindsight there were definitely options in ancient greece #but my teacher didnt tell us that. we just had to write about whether we would like to have slightly more rights or not #OBVIOUSLY gay men have historically faced discrimination but saying that it wasnt as focused on women is just unbelievably stupid #sorry i dont know if any of this made sense #lesbophobia tw #misogyny tw

[give-grian-rights]

can someone tell me why im being abnormal about a character i've barely touched the content of. like yay yippie i watched like 20 hours of you. there's fucking 80 years of content get me OUT OF HERE?

#yeah this is about nightwing. yes im a freak about him no i don't do well with comics #shout out to duke thomas in the we are robin comic i've had in my browser tabs for three weeks now #sorry king. #i mean i guess it makes sense because theres So many characters in media that you can't even get 20 hours out of . but. BUT ITS NOT FAIR. #i want to read comics so bad. i try to. i have. i've started several #blue beetle 2009 nightwing 2016... superman & batman world's finest #i was able to finish teen titans world's finest but that was only. like. six issues #comics as a medium just has this thing where. you're dropped in and it kinda expects you to know what's happening #and leaves you feeling like you started on the wrong page. like blue beetle. loved you but man that was not the greatest first comic to rea #wait i forgot i read hawkeye 2011(?) and that also had the same issue. but more so each installment like #felt like it was starting on a point AFTER something happened like i was meant to be reading another comic before i got to that issue. #i got. like. idk 18? 19? comics into that one. and 12 into nightwing. nightwing wasn't as bad but it just. gah. like several-issue long #stories carried across batman and nightwing and its like.OUGH. #i know im mutuals with a comic person. hi. i know you're cringing. #there are so many good characters to come out of comics. its just SO HARD to get into. #rn i dont have an excuse with We Are Robin. just that i've been infected with needing to play the sims for 8 hours a day. #mika-posts

[postergadorart]

i said i love zelink

#why do these mfs have so many details in their clothing #bruh drawing this was a nightmare #na dont get me wrong i love them but wtf #zelink #zelda totk #zelda botw #zelda #link #lmao tagging link feels so unfair dude why do u have that nameeeee #anyways i love zelink #i did minor changes to zeldas boots and collar? what the heck is that called. anyways i changed some of it bc i can #and bc my eyes get confused by the lighter tone in her boots like. at first glance i always think her legs are exposed #like shes wearing capri pants or whatever the name #i cant read nor write #i could write an entire paragraph here like those AO3 authors about what happened in my life during the making of this piece #but theres a limit in these tags and id rather just laugh about it #i referenced the ao3 authors bc their life seems cursed and thats exactly how i felt during my own said events #but its ok im back again #until im not anymore #expect more drawings of them from me -needs the pressure

[ferretwhomst]

thinking so hard abt how belos and odalia played similar roles in hunter and amity's lives

they're pathetic excuses for parental figures, bringing up children and expecting them to live up to their own personal "blueprints" for them, stripping them of their autonomy in different ways.

in hunter's case, he's forced to be belos' idealized version of caleb without even knowing it. the golden guard's uniform has stayed mostly the same through time, which shows us that belos doesn't see them as individuals who deserve to be recognized as such, moreso as expendable objects. this one betrayed me? this one failed the task i assigned? no problem! i'll just kill them and make a new one. plus, hunter unknowingly faces additional pressure due to the fact that he looks more like caleb than the other grimwalkers.

in amity's case, odalia is obviously trying to turn her into a mini-version of herself. she takes away mostly everything that makes amity similar to her dad- she forces her to dye her hair the same mint green color, she puts more pressure on amity to perform well than the twins (which leads her to grow resentful towards them, which in turn allows for odalia to control them more easily. divide and rule and all that) and don't even get me started on how deeply invasive that whole amulet business was.

then there's shots like THIS featuring the Shoulder Touch of Manipulation TM

which just... parallel each other so eerily. i can't stop thinking abt it. both belos and odalia are behaving as if they're acting in hunter and amity's best interests when really they're only using them for their own selfish motives (the whole "i can't let the same happen to you" thing from belos as if he isn't willing to murder hunter the second he begins to deviate from his will, and odalia cutting amity off from all positive outside influences- ie anyone who could empower her, anyone who could make amity believe that she deserves better than how her parents treat her- under the pretence of "protecting" her). i'm eating drywall right now.

#also also #putting this in tags bc i dont feel like it adds onto the original post its just my thoughts #also sorry if this doesnt make sense im not very coherent rn but. #this whole thing is part of why i dislike when people just #disregard the amity-hunter sibling dynamic solely in favor of plttwins #like yes i get the appeal! and yes i love them too! #their dynamic is fun and they parallel philip and caleb in so many ways even #but amity and hunter have so much in common as well #even without reading my whole spiel its canonically established in eclipse lake #that both of them have a lot of expectations to live up to #that shit could be used to build a really good fanon dynamic and allow for some especially great angst #but noooo:-( #toh #the owl house #toh analysis #the owl house analysis #hunter wittebane #hunter the golden guard #hunter deamonne #hunter blight #hunter toh #amity blight #amity toh #emperor belos #belos toh #philip wittebane #philip toh #odalia blight #odalia toh #ferret rambles

[sonknuxadow]

they werent lying that knuckles series barely has knuckles in it

#i pirated that shit Btw just so we're clear. also gonna talk about it a little bit in the tags #nothing too spoilery but also might not wanna read if you want to go in knowing absolutely nothing? idk #anyway he WAS a main character still he was present for a decent amount of the first couple episodes #but the amount of screentime he gets just starts dropping after that . hes barely there at all in the second half ??? #and it feels like theres a lot of scenes mostly focusing on wade and his problems and not near as many for knuckles and his whole deal #overall it feels more like a wade show with knuckles in it than a knuckles show with wade in it. which sucks #and human characters having plot relevance isnt the problem here i dont mind human characters at all i think they can be really fun #its the fact that the human characters are taking over the story and spotlight when the show is called knuckles #and all the marketing makes it look like knuckles is the main focus #and i also would have preferred if they just went with a differnet character to be knuckles' human friend #because i dont particulraly care about wade. and the knuckles (and sonic and tails) i know would not be friends with cops </3 #well at least the story wasnt knuckles training wade to be a better cop like a lot of people were expecting but thats like.the bare minimum #also aside from the issues relating to knuckles' screentime (or lack of screentime) i thought the ending was unsatisfying #regardless of all that though there WERE some parts i enjoyed or found kind of funny or whatever. because knuckles so cutesy as always #knuckles being a cute little guy is the most important part of the show actually #and i liked the parts with sonic tails and maddie even if they were only there for like 5 minutes #(i really wish those three had gotten more screentime. i feel like they could have easily worked in at least one more scene with them) #and its a minor thing but the opening sequence is cute. was honestly expecting just a title card or something #overall the show is just . kind of okay i guess. not the worst thing ive ever seen but still disappointing ? idk how to explain.. #my expectations also werent very high in the first place #so maybe im being a bit more generous than i would have been otherwise. idk #and i definitely would not recommend this to anyone who already dislikes the sonic movies . youll probably hate this more #like people who thought the human characters got too much screentime in the second movie would lose their minds if they saw this

[mihai-florescu]

From the drafts, thoughts about enst. Lalala

You know what Matrix reminds me of? Beasts. Baby's first introduction to experiencing and opposing racism, respectively transphobia. And yet they are unfortunately needed considering the audience (clunky as they are, i'd be happy if they make people reconsider internalized beliefs they hadn't been aware of). The western fandom likes to think themselves superior but im gonna be honest, while the lessons are very much obvious, i still see racist and transphobic remarks even from people who think themselves above it, without even realizing it. Once you deem yourself unable to commit "the worst things morally" you stop questioning your capacity to internalize and perpetuate harmful beliefs. Because "only bad people think or do that" - it is such an incorrect way to view things, morality, life. "Those are things a bad person does and I am good, therefore I can't do it. Also bad people can't have any good traits." is a sentiment all to common seen in online fandom spaces, a result of black and white thinking, that stuns growth and stops discussions rather than solve anything.

At the same time, the writing itself is not above criticism and conversations could and should be had. Ive seen and had some great talks recently. I just wish people would understand the very basic depiction=/=endorsement before jumping in, or that good and bad parts can coexist, and above all, looking at it as a piece of fiction that functions as such (What is it trying to convey? How is it done? Is it effectiv? How? Why? Who is the audience? Rather than a wall of "Well i personally dont like it. so it's bad". Feelings are valid but it's a bit like white noise i'd like to look past into exploring the uncomfortable. Speaking of, I'd like to eventually post some drafts that could be seen as touching uncomfortable topics but it's still scary, it's easy to get misinterpreted). Anyway, i also think a story can't be judged while incomplete. I have been keeping to priv/ my phone notes mostly because i know i can get careless and catty especially under stress. Im curious to see how it's wrapped up and how things will be evolving going forward...

#and i see another parallel in how the writing started superficial/insensitive/stereotypical and then steered into trying to tell- #a more sensible story the more the characters got flashed out #i think this couldve been avoided with a clear direction from the start but alas. you cant expect that with new stories every 2 weeks #about 50 characters no less #there are many things that would be interesting to discuss i just dont trust people and lack the energy to really engage as i used to #unfortunately im not giving up graduating to focus on enstars but because of a worsening mental state #but well i will not pass on an opportunity to comment as an observer of fandom #putting this under a read more its like on one hand i want to talk about things on the other i really really really dont have the energy #to really talk #treat this more as a journal entry #i dont think im saying anything particularly revelational anyway #ive been trying different types of journaling but this is still my most comfortable to write in #i like having tags i think thats mainly it

[luvring]

just complained about my group to my irls and i'm pretty sure this has genuinely motivated me to speak in class because i Cannot let my prof think my critical thinking abilities are the same as theirs

#💬nia.rambles #rant fr// #guys im srsly sick thinking about it #LIKE THERE WERE SO MANY MOMENTS WHERE I WAS JUST ?? #'im not saying to beat your kid black and blue but discipline is different across cultures and #i just dont think this should be an area of exploration like its worked for hundreds of years' #? YOU AS A WOMAN OF COLOUR HAVE NEVER HEARD OF INTERGENERATIONAL TRAUMA? #like why are you implying you dont like gentle parenting why are you making a strawman DONT PISS ME OFF #then white guy speaking way too loud to my right is throwing in words he DOESNT understand and saying the same things over and over #'from a Sociological Contemporary perspective' be serious. 'it comes back to nature vs nurture again' Can you Stop Tlalkingplapewmj #and i bring up gender and he goes smth smth gender is just such a sensitive topic then the 2 other girls Agree #and they wouldnt let me talk and even if i did they obviously wouldnt know what i was talking about #because why are you asking what post structuralism is THAT WAS A MAIN TOPIC AND DEFINITION OF LAST CLASS??? 😭😭 #they wouldnt answer the question properly and repeat the same basic vaguely connected ideas the Entire time #like do i look like i gaf abt different body standards/expectations for football players MOVE ON ITS BEEN 10 MINUTES #like i want to talk about enforced binaries in queer spaces and Oh my god i just remembered #they were like. lgbt studies/discussion is just so recent and i was like. Its literally discussed In the reading. but None of u finished it #OHH IM PISSED OFF. IM SO PISSED OFF #and im so mad bc the discussion q's were Good and if i was w my irls wed have such a good convo but NO!!!! #whatever. Whatever im going to start raising my hand in class im so fr i got lightheaded complaining about this IMSOMADBSJF

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Saint of Bright Doors

a surreal Sri Lankan fantasy about colonialism, revolution, mixing fantasy with the modern world

follows a man raised by his mother to kill his father, a god-like cult leader

but as an adult he puts aside his life of violence and moves to the city for a quiet life

he becomes fascinated with ‘bright doors’ around the city that never open and have no other side, and joins a group studying them to find out more

and a support group for those with divine heritage that becomes increasingly revolutionary, until the task he was made for reemerges and his life upends

#the Saint of Bright Doors #aroaessidhe 2024 reads #this is kind of hard to explain I dont know if I did a very good job here lol #it is weird and full of so many interesting elements. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about it but?? I really liked it mostly??? #It starts pretty small scale focused on the MC & slowly unravels the wider worldbuilding and narrative elements in a really interesting way #The first chapter or two I assumed it was typical high fantasy but then it’s like. oh this is a modern city. with emails and stuff. #The pacing is a bit weird - it’s quite meandering and also pivots significantly in the second half. tbh I’m still ????? about the ending lm #but also I am happy to float through on vibes. #and there’s some elements (like the doors that become….not that relevant) that I want to know more about. (as an aside - I saw someone say #that it’s a very clear retelling about Buddha’s son? which idk enough about but probably could give a deeper context to a lot of it) #writing style is kinda detached from the MC but also there is a reason for this that makes sense with the twist near the end! #which is a kind of twist i LOVE. Maybe I wish it had been emphasised a bit more over the story though? unsure. #I thought his mother's story was interesting also - you think she's an terrible parent just there for background context at the start but #then when she tells her story it's like ohh there's more context here. #also I hesitate to just say ‘if you like the spear cuts-- you should read this’ because I think the elements that are similar are done in a #kinda different way and might disappoint you if you’re expecting it to be the same as spear….but regardless the sort of dreamy writing #rich world; narrative with fantasy but also modern day elements; some of the writing style; mlm MC (tho not a romance) #idk. it will definitely not work for everyone but I enjoyed it overall #also it is full of queerness #bisexual books

[starlighnes]

(prompts you aanyway 😈)

Softly getting hold of the other’s hand, afraid to make a mistake.

sorry, dass das so ultra lange gedauert hat, das allsemesterliche uni burnout kickt mal wieder ein bisschen aber ich wollte das unbedingt noch schreiben, deswegen danke für den prompt :)

prompt: softly getting hold of the other’s hand, afraid to make a mistake.

Noch vor zwei Minuten hat Leo panisch versucht, Adam aus seinem Albtraum zu befreien. Hat versucht ruhig zu bleiben, aber das Wimmern, was er bis ins Wohnzimmer gehört hatte, war ihm in die Knochen gezogen, hatte sein Blut gefrieren lassen.

Und dann, als er vorischtig nach der Hand seines Freundes gegeriffen hat, ist Adam endlich aufgewacht. Erst hat er sich noch nervös umgesehen, hat gezittert, aber als seine Augen sich an das schwache Licht des Mondes, das durch die halb zugezogenen Vorhänge fällt, gewöhnt haben, hat er sich etwas beruhigt.

Jetzt sitzen sie beide auf Adams Bett, Leo auf der Kante und Adam an das Kopfende gelehnt, und keiner von ihnen sagt ein Wort.

Nach der ursprünglichen Erleichterung, dass Adam wach ist, taucht jetzt ein neuer Gedanke in Leos Kopf auf, droht sich festzusetzen. Was, wenn das zu viel war?

Sie haben noch nicht über die Albträume gesprochen, die sie beide regelmäßig bitternötigen Schlaf kosten. Und nachdem sie sich geeinigt haben, dass sie es langsam angehen lassen wollen zwischen ihnen, etwas was in ihrer beider Interesse liegt, weiß Leo nicht, ob er gerade viel zu viele von Adams Grenzen aufeinmal übertreten hat.

Er ist kurz davor, seine Hand von Adams weg zu ziehen, als er Adam ansieht. Die offene Kommunikation, von der sie sich beide einig waren, dass sie dringend nötig ist, fällt ihnen noch immer schwer. Aber die Botschaft, die in Adams Gesichtsausdruck liegt, braucht keine Worte, damit Leo sie versteht.

Das sanfte Lächeln und der dankbare Blick in den blauen Augen, die ihn durch die verwuschelten Haare ansehen, ist unmissverständlich.

Er hat nicht gemerkt, wie angespannt er war, aber mit diesem Lächeln entspannt sich Leos ganzer Körper. Mit einem Mal fühlt er sich mutig und traut sich sogar noch einen kleinen Schritt weiter. Vorsichtig dreht er seine Hand ein wenig, sodass ihre Handflächen aneinander liegen und schiebt seine Finger langsam zwischen Adams. Zur Antwort streicht Adam mit seinem Daumen über Leos und sieht ihm jetzt direkt in die Augen.

"Danke," flüstert er, seine leise Stimme rau. Er muss nicht erklären wofür. "Natürlich," erwidert Leo schnell und ergänzt dann, "Willst du was trinken? Oder wir könnten ins Wohnzimmer und irgendeinen Schrott im Fernsehen gucken, oder-", Adam drückt seine Hand sanft, um ihn zu unterbrechen.

"Kannst du dich zu mir legen?", fragt er dann nach einem kurzen Moment der Stille.

Leos Herz setzt aus.

Ungläubig sieht er seinen Freund an. Noch vor einem Augenblick dachte er, er wäre zu weit gegangen, hätte nicht nach Adams Hand greifen sollen, als der im Schlaf Dinge erlebte, über die Leo lieber nicht zu viel nachdenkt. Und jetzt fragt Adam ihn, bittet ihn, sich zu ihm zu legen. Lässt sich von Leo beschützen, vor weiteren Albträumen.

"Vergiss es, das ist zu schnell, sorry." Er klingt jetzt mehr wie der Adam, der auf dem Weg zum Präsidium blöde Witze macht, der schlagfertig auf Esthers Kommnetare reagiert. Gleichzeitig lockert er den Griff seiner Hand ein wenig.

So schnell er reagieren kann, festigt Leo seine Hand in Adams, schüttelt den Kopf und schluckt den Kloß herunter, der sich in seinem Hals zu bilden droht. Nichts hiervon ist zu schnell und auf keinen Fall soll Adam das Glauben, keine Sekune lang.

"Rutschst du rüber oder soll ich auf die andere Seite klettern?", fragt er und da ist es wieder, dieses Lächeln, was ihm schwindlig werden lässt. Anstelle einer Antwort stemmt sich Adam mit der freien Hand etwas hoch und rutscht zur Seite, um ihm Platz auf der Matratze zu machen.

Ohne seine Hand loszulassen steht Leo auf und legt sich neben Adam in dessen Bett, sieht ihm direkt in die Augen.

"Schlaf gut", flüstert er und zieht die Bettdecke, die sich sich jetzt teilen, zurecht.

"Du auch, Tiger", antwortet Adam und jetzt ist es Leo, der nicht anders kann als liebevoll zu Grinsen. Der Effekt, den dieser alberne Spitzname auf ihn hat, war Leo eine Weile peinlich, aber vor ein paar Tagen hat er zugegeben, dass er das Gefühl hat, vor Glück zu platzen, wenn Adam ihn ohne nachzudenken so nennt. Seitdem schleicht sich jedes Mal ein Grinsen auf dessen Gesicht, wenn er merkt, dass er ihn schon wieder Tiger genannt hat. Und weil er nichts lieber ansieht, als Adams Grinsen, ist es Leo den Preis des Geständnisses absolut wert.

Das Lächeln weicht erst von den Gesichtern der beiden, als sie nebeneinander einschlafen, ihre Finger für den Rest der Nacht locker verschränkt.

#oh #das war mehr als expected #dont mind me putting all of my hörk writing into the bigger jeansjacken universe i have in my head #tatsächlich ist die idee hierfür entstanden als ich überlegt hab was zwischen meiner baumhaus fic #und dem return der jeansjacke an dem ich grad sitze passieren muss #das hier müsste vor dem letzten prompt auf dem balkon spielen weil sie da schon ein bisschen more casual händchen halten. #my fic #spatort #tatort saarbrücken #posting before i read over it too many times and chicken out jkslgfd #jeansjacken universum #mine

[the-kneesbees]

I'm a firm believer that people should consume whatever media makes them happy, because that's the whole point...I won't make fun of someone for liking taylor swift or the kissing booth or whatever (ok, fine, I do poke fun at my friends for it sometimes- but in reality, outside of my little circles, I don't give a shit. it's not that serious) because if it brings you joy, then thats all that matters (it's still important to look at things from a critical perspective, and acknowledge whatever problems they might have, but that's not what this is about)

but I do think it's really important, in addition to doing whatever makes you happy, no matter how "mainstream" it might be, to watch/listen/whatever to some weirder shit...

not to sound pretentious but like. you can't spend your whole life watching brain rotting rom-coms with all white casts...go watch a slightly problematic black and white movie in a language you don't understand..go listen to some music recorded by three dudes on an iphone where you can hear th singers voice crack..put down milk and honey and go read some freaky poetry about cannibalism or something....

you can hate every second of it, it doesn't have to be your thing, but you have to try to challenge your brain once in a while or itll completely turn to mush and you won't be able to think critically, or have "deep" (for lack of a better word) conversations about anything

#post posting #long post #sorry for all this lmao i dont even expect anyone to read it i just have so many thoughts on the topic

[vse-kar-vem]

how to write vent post title that does not come off as self-pitying and or accusatory (because it's NOT !)

#sorry tumblr is like a diary to me idk what i'll do w this blog after i (sigh) inevitably move on #either way #im convinced everyone hates me again :3 but realistically no one cares about me even enough to hate me im just stupid and self centred 💔 #if anything me TYPING these posts is actuvely turning people against me #again with the assumptions that people care enough to read these 😭 fhskfbhsjfkg #i hate that i care so much what people online think of me cuz irl it's like. whatever #but here there are so many cool people who i admire and would love to be friends with im always hyperparanoid of everything i do #and still i manage to overstep and come off as annoying #like obvs you're allowed to hate me even if you're someone i look up to like that's your perogative #but i hate worrying about IF anyone hates me #oughgh this is easier irl because usually people send off pretty clear signals if they dont like you #but online (esp with how prickly this fandom is) i don't know whether im being insecure and reading into things or whether people just don't #like me (which again is fine i would just rather know if anyone gets it) #i figure art is the one way i can get people to like me 💔 which sounds kinda pathetic because irl i KNOW im liked and capable! #fandom has just become such a big part of my personality that i cant detach my self worth from it #and i do love art and drawing and such i hate that even if i know people my stuff EYE dont and it doesnt mean anything or act as a signifier #of my friendships #wow .... i really am my own therapist ..... i should shut up #the industrial revolution and its consequences (jofandom) #i think these posts are half self exploration half ... almost self harm? because sometimes im so derogatory about myself on purpose in a #'you're worthless' way. but at the same time it's cathartic and i always feel better having probed at my feelings and gotten them in order #not to do a complete 180 but it's MY post and JO LONDON IN *12* DAYS!!!!!!!! AHH i'm sooo excited if it doesnt live up to my expectations i #may cry a little. and there will be another vent post from me ! #sometimes i wonder if anyone actually reads these 😭 #vee rambles

[popiplant]

hes either about to burst into tears or start laughing

#ortismypassion #or both. #i like my little dandelion boy #expected more because ive been reading sooo many fics of tjis guy #dont look at that sleeve so hard. it looks wack #ok bye #zenitsu agatsuma #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny

[fiendishartist2]

but nothing's fair, at least for me -mp100

Tome couldn’t focus.

Her eyes glazed over and the words on the worksheet in front of her swam. Through the cotton in her brain, she registered the droning voice of her teacher. He waved around a textbook– probably recounting some historical event she couldn’t care less about.

Tome glanced around the room, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Her classmates were in similar states of boredom; each face slack and tired. A few students were even asleep at their desks. Her gaze wandered to the handful of interesting faces she recognised– girls she found herself getting hung up on, despite the fact she was sure they didn’t even know she existed. And if they did, the impression she gave was an unflattering one. Between mind numbing classes and having to force herself to care about boys when the topic sprung up, all Tome wanted to talk about with the other girls in her class was the things she was passionate about. Of course, whenever she brought up aliens, telepaths, spirits and all other manners of the supernatural and felt herself finally engage with the conversation, everyone else disengaged. And soon, she was sitting in on another discussion about a celebrity who she had never heard of. Tome blew out a heavy sigh, ruffling her choppy bangs.

Now in her first year in highschool, Tome found herself friendless, clubless, and most depressingly– girlfriendless. Of course, it’s not like she could date in the first place– she didn’t know any other sapphics in the whole school, let alone her small social circle.

Sometimes, she let herself linger on random pretty girls in her classes. In times like these, she would abandon her school work and daydream about them. Maybe it wasn’t the best to lose herself in these elaborate scenarios, but she felt so under stimulated at school now, she found herself in her own head time and time again.

It was surreal– the idea that she could write love letters and confess her feelings with nothing more than a broken heart. She imagined walking hand-in-hand with the blond girl a few seats ahead of her; or taking the girl next to her to a cafe and eating cute little cakes and tea together. Tome forced herself out of that mindset before she could get even more lonely.

There were very real consequences for her true feelings. Her stomach turned as she pictured it: weird looks in the halls, insults whispered behind her back, alienation even worse than it was now. If she didn’t have wonderful, supportive friends back at Salt Mid, she would be worried about them turning on her too.

So, she elected to keep her feelings to herself. Every day, she just coasted by, drifting from class to class until she could go home and see her real friends. She threw herself into her alien research, eventually finding herself taking an interest in spirits and psychics. Which led her to an unofficial placement with Mob’s boss– a man who came off as sketchy, but knew more about spirits than anyone she had ever met. And she still appreciated the New Years trip Reigen took her and her friends on, on top of that. So, she found herself scurrying to Spirits and Such after school every day.

She walked to work with the same stance she took during school– head ducked down and watching the sidewalk with rapt attention as she contemplated her isolation. Maybe she would ask Mob to go on a hike with her on the weekend. Maybe that would take the edge off of the emptiness that had made a home in her chest.

The door chimed as she arrived at the office. Tome made a bee-line for her desk and crashed into her seat. She heaved another great sigh, catching the attention of the only full-time employee at Spirits and Such.

Serizawa cleared his throat, “Good afternoon, Miss Kurata.” He greeted politely. Tome nodded at him, sliding forward until she was laying across her desk. She stretched her hands out like a disgruntled cat.

“Hey, Serizawa…” She said glumly. Serizawa placed down his pen, turning away from his homework.

“Are you alright? You look a little upset.” He asked tentatively. Tome closed her eyes.

She contemplated whether she could confide in her coworker– she wanted help sorting out the tangled ball of feelings in her chest so badly. But, she had only known Serizawa for about a month; he was nice and very sincere, if a little jumpy, but that didn’t mean he could understand her in the way she needed.

She decided to bite the bullet. If push came to shove and Serizawa was an ass about it, Tome trusted Reigen to step in and help her. A loud swear came from the kitchenette in the next room and Tome smiled faintly.

“I just… I’ve been feeling a little off lately, I guess.” She scratched her cheek, “None of my friends go to my school anymore so…” She shrugged. Serizawa nodded slowly in understanding.

He hummed, “Why don’t you ask them to lunch sometime? Shigeo mentioned something about a park he wanted to visit last time he was here.”

“It’s not that,” she huffed, “I do stuff with them all the time. It’s different.” Papers shuffled as Serizawa packed his work away. He laced his hands together on his lap, giving Tome his full attention.

“How?” He implored. Tome turned to rest her other cheek on the desk, burying her face in her arm.

“Mmrhmmm,” She mumbled into her sleeve.

“Sorry, what was that?” Serizawa asked earnestly.

Tome sat back, frustration colouring her voice, “All day I just go to class, zone out, go to my next class, eat lunch alone, go to class– it’s so mundane! I don’t have a club to mess around in anymore, or even people to hang out with! And- and I haven’t even- uhm…” She stopped her rant, face growing warm. Serizawa kept giving her the same open look and Tome found herself actually wanting to tell him the other half of her problem. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pick apart the knots her stomach had twisted into. She wanted to talk about it– it would swallow her whole if she didn’t– but deep down, she was scared. Tome liked this office and her shiny new job and weird but fun boss (even when he insisted every job was too dangerous for her and that she wasn’t actually employed). The last thing she wanted was to break the comfortable atmosphere she was just starting to settle into.

Because that’s what happened when she spoke her true desires– someone laughed uncomfortably, and a sharp and surprised “Oh.” would slip out between the tense silence.

Tome coughed, picking at a chip in her desk so she wouldn't have to face him. Her hair fell like a curtain in front of her face, shielding her from the inevitable judgemental twinge Serizawa’s gaze would take on.

“Well uh- uhm… sometimes I wonder if I- I-” she cleared her throat, “If I’m behind on the whole… romance thing.” Tome scratched at the desk harder, picking off the cheap veneer in longer strips now. She grinned despite the quaking fear in her chest, “Y’know because I’ve never had- never had a-” the words caught in her throat, choking her.

Something clinked on her desk. A cup of tea sat under her nose, steam curling up into her face. She took a sip, despite the way her stomach was twisting, and noted it was her favourite flavour. Serizawa smiled down at her, eyebrows quirked with worry.

“It’s okay to be a late bloomer,” he chuckled awkwardly, hands twisting in front of his chest, “To be honest, I’m about fifteen years late to the boyfriend game, as well.”

Tome’s neck cricked with the speed her head snapped up to stare at her coworker.

“B-boyfriend?” She sputtered, voice just above a whisper.

Did I hear that right? Is there hope for me afterall? She thought excitedly.

Serizawa nodded, gaze fixed just above her head at a poster on the wall. He smiled, melancholy, “Well, yes… shutting yourself off from the world and then joining a terrorist organization doesn't really open you up to a lot of potential relationships…" He started fiddling with his tie, setting it askew and, eventually, completely undoing it.

Tome shook her head– what might have been shocking to her when she started working there was now nothing more than a passing fact. 'My coworker was a psychic terrorist' was much less mindblowing than 'my coworker might be queer.'

"No, I get that part! But- but I mean- you- are you-?" Her words were jumbled, all trying to climb out of her mouth at the same time and ending up as gibberish.

Just as she was about to try again, Reigen burst into the main office. He waved his phone around excitedly, pointing at it and mouthing indistinguishable words at his employees. Serizawa gave him a thumbs up anyways.

"Right, of course. Yes. Thursday? Here, let me check our schedule…" He shuffled around a few papers, loud enough for the person on the other end of the call to hear. She craned her neck, spotting a half cut up grocery store flyer open on Reigen's desk. It was missing all of the coupons.

He clicked his tongue, "Looks like we're going to be pretty packed… Ah!" Reigen poked a random paper, "With a little rescheduling, it looks like I can squeeze you in at noon. 'That sounds great'?" He raised his eyebrows, grinning fox-like at Serizawa. Business had been slow lately– or so Tome thought, since she was only shooed out once or twice a day– so Reigen was putting all of his tricks to snagging clients to use.

Reigen ended the call with a sing-songy company-mandated goodbye, even going so far as to smile into the receiver. With a sharp 'clat', Reigen shut his phone.

"Alright, you two! We've got a big client tomorrow so I need you out of the office," Tome slumped back down in her seat, good mood extinguished immediately.

He rounded on Serizawa, pointing in his face, "And you-" Reigen froze, rant cutting off suddenly. With a sigh, he stepped right into Serizawa's personal space, nearly standing on his feet.

"Honestly, Serizawa!" He took his employee's tie into his hands, "Haven't I told you to stop messing with your tie? It makes you look unprofessional– which reflects badly on me, as your employer, y'know-" Reigen rambled. Swiftly, he redid Serizawa's tie, tugging on it until it fit snugly under his collar. Just as he was readjusting it– and patting down Serizawa's shirt one too many times– Tome found the words she wanted to say earlier.

Unfortunately, that meant she suddenly blurted it out in front of Reigen, as well.

"Are you gay?!"

Serizawa stiffened; the small smile on his face widened into a grimace. All of the colour drained from his cheeks.

Meanwhile, Reigen twisted to look at her in abject horror. More sweat than she had ever seen a human being produce gathered on his face.

Tome's stomach dropped.

You fucked up big time, Kurata. What happened to wanting to keep this job? Look at them– they're humiliated! Why can't you just keep your big mouth shut sometimes-

Reigen cleared his throat, dropping Serizawa's tie like it burned him. Unsubtly, he scrambled away from his employee.

"Well-!" He laughed, high-pitched and stilted, reminding her of a hyena. He took another step away from Serizawa, giving him a wide berth, "That's- y'see about that-"

Tome sprung up from her seat on unsteady feet. Ice cold hands wrapped around her stomach, wringing it. She folded, bowing so deeply her nose nearly touched her desk.

"I am so, so sorry, Reigen-san! I-I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable– or you, Serizawa-san!" Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes. Her heart was beating heavily in her ears, "I know that was weird to ask, I-I do-don't know why I did that." She tried to laugh, blinking away the wetness in her eyes. Tome came out of her bow, wobbly grin plastered on her face as she stared at the wall. She couldn't look Reigen in the eye and see disgust– that would be her last straw.

Tome picked up her untouched schoolbag, slinging it haphazardly over her shoulder, "I'll leave, it's fine!"

Before she could sprint out of the office, a clammy hand landed on her shoulder.

"Hey! Tome, it's– okay, it was a little bit… strange to ask out of nowhere," Tome hiccupped, face puckering as she held in her tears, "Shit! Look, kid, we're not mad at you or anything, okay?" Reigen crouched in front of her, raising his hands but unsure what to do with them, "Right, Serizawa?" He looked up for support; Serizawa answered with a strangled squeak. He hadn't broken out of his stock-still grimace.

Reigen stood with a huff. She turned again to leave– before being turned around once more and steered towards Reigen's desk with a hand on her back. He pushed her into the client's chair, settling in his own across from her.

"I'm not letting you leave in tears, Tome." He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, "Now spill– why did you ask…" He cleared his throat, looking away as his face warmed, "that?"

Tome wanted to vomit.

"And don't say you don't know," he continued, pointing at her accusingly, "I can tell when something's up with you kids."

Tome sniffled, raising her gaze from her lap momentarily to fix him with a subdued look of amazement, "With your esper powers?" Reigen winced, covering it up with a grimace of his own.

"Ah, yeah… with my powers." He said dejectedly, "Don't change the subject."

She eyed Serizawa under her bangs; he still hadn't moved, wide-eyed shock on his face unchanging. She had a feeling he would never forgive her for this.

Reigen snapped in her face, bringing her back into their conversation. She drew in a deep breath, ready to make a big, roundabout speech to apologise to them both while brushing off the root cause of this whole problem. When she opened her mouth, all that came out was a sob.

"Tome-?! Jeez- Serizawa, get her a glass of water or something! Oh shit, kid- uh, fuck- please stop crying?" Reigen floundered. He had no idea how to get Tome to calm down. This wasn't anything like one of Mob's explosions– nor was it extreme enough to be like his recent, non-psychic meltdowns. Sure, Mob wasn't blowing up the office every time his emotions overwhelmed him anymore, but Reigen had known Mob for years; he could comfort or talk him down in the way he needed. He had just met Tome a month ago.

"I'm so lonely, Reigen-san!" She shouted into her palms, "A-an-and I ha-ate it because," she hiccupped, "there's no-othing I can do about it!"

Reigen was still reeling, but set aside his confusion. At least she was outright telling him what the deal was.

He reached across the desk to pat her on the shoulder.

"Take a deep breath for me, kid. You're going to faint if you keep that up." She nodded vigorously. He had to keep himself from making a face when she wiped her snotty, tear stained face on her uniform's sleeve.

"Sorry…" She mumbled, gaze fixed on her skirt as she smoothed out its wrinkles. Her voice was hushed and slightly congested as she continued, "I um… I guess I've been feeling a touch…" She laughed at herself. It was self-deprecating in a way that made Reigen's skin crawl; it was much too similar to the one that echoed in his own thoughts.

"Well, a lot lonelier, lately. And now that I'm in highschool… I'm wondering if… um," This was way worse than talking to Serizawa– looking her boss in the eye and telling him her girl troubles was worse than any kind of torture she could imagine, "If it's abnormal for a girl my age…"

When she chanced a look at him, Reigen's eyes were wide as dinner plates. Another round of sweat had broken out under his bangs and he was getting paler by the second.

"W-wait, if this is- I'm not qualified to deal with- you should really talk to your mom about that-" His strangled voice squeaked out.

"I'm a lesbian." She finally admitted it. The word hung heavy in the air between them. Doubt dug its claws into her the longer Reigen just stared at her without saying anything. A few moments felt like minutes to Tome.

She was about to take it back– run home and hide under the safe covers of her bed, playing Zelda for the foreseeable future instead of ever coming back to work– when Reigen deflated, a wobbly smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh god, Tome, is that it? I thought– well, I'm not sure what I thought you were trying to say, but I'm glad it's not that." He chuckled, relief written all over his relaxed posture. She gaped at him.

"You're… happy?" She hadn't expected him to blow up at her or anything, but she thought maybe it would be a little more awkward than this. Reigen's smile dimmed and he looked at her sadly.

"Did you think I was going to be upset?" She pursed her lips and nodded. His face fell again, but he quickly plastered a more neutral expression over it.

Reigen got out of his chair with a grunt, stretching a bit as he stood. He rounded the desk, leaning on her side of it. From behind his back, he grabbed the little paper cup of water Serizawa filled for her. She took it gratefully.

Reigen sighed, "Being queer is not the end of the world, trust me. I know it feels like that, especially at your age, but it's true. Soon, this stage in your life will pass and you'll find some place where you fit in. Just hang in there, kiddo."

She sipped on her water, "It doesn't feel like it'll get better." Tome mumbled into her cup. Reigen laughed, and it was the same insecure tone she took earlier.

"I know…" He glanced at Serizawa cautiously, "But look at me! Successful business, lots of friends, a bunch of you brats hanging around," She dodged the hand reaching out to ruffle her hair, giggling into her water.

"I'm perfectly happy where I am. I promise, you will be too."

Tome rubbed at her nose one last time, "Can Spirits and Such be my place?" She asked.

"You're going to have to talk to your teachers about that." He said, all business again. She huffed playfully.

"I come out to you– in tears, boss– and you're still bullying me like this?"

Reigen rolled his eyes, "Don't call me that until you're actually employed here, kid."

"Well then, don't call me kid until-"

Their bickering petered out as a long shadow cast over them. An oppressive atmosphere pressed at her back. She knew this feeling– it was one she felt often when Mob was around. Like someone had sucked all of the pressure out of the room and concentrated it in one person. It felt like unstable emotions; it felt like psychic powers.

Tome turned to see Serizawa towering over her.

His face was stony, eyebrows set low and mouth set in a hard frown. Her heart thumped loudly in her ears.

"Miss Kurata?" His kind voice muttered. She jolted, a wave of nausea hitting her immediately.

"Yeah?" She asked, just above a whisper. Tome's teeth started chattering.

Reigen tensed, gaze flicking between Tome and Serizawa. He sat up straighter.

Serizawa's hands were folded in front of him. He started to fidget, staring at his hands as he laced and unlaced them.

Suddenly, he looked up at Tome. A smile broke out over his face, the warmth of it reaching his crinkling eyes.

"Thank you for trusting us with something so personal. We're lucky to have you here with us."

She wanted to cry all over again.

Instead, she brought the two businessmen into an awkward, but tight hug. She squeezed them until Reigen was gasping for air and trying to pry her arms off of him.

Tome left that day with a new mission: become the best employee Spirits and Such had ever seen and win the friendship of its inhabitants. Which started with a formal employment form from her homeroom teacher.

#this ones a little older #idk if anyone else has this problem but i find writing more explicitly queer stuff like this is really hard #bclike i dont want to make it super cliche and ooc but its hard to put my own queer experience into words yknow? #im a lesbian therefor tome is a lesbian lol but seriously she is a lesbian. like canonically to me <3 #and i also feel like theres a certain shame i feel writing queer stories. like maybe its cringe culture poisoning- #-but i feel bad and embarrassed writing characters as queer and experiencing queerness + homophobia #hm well time to pack that away and hopefully never think about it again #tome's experiences here are directly influenced by my own btw. i've gotten that same ''oh'' many times lol #ppl arent expecting lesbians to be lurking in their groups ig #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #tome kurata #my fic #read the reigen manga #she is everything to me <3333333 #this is set before the reigen manga but after mp100 #serirei #a little. its in the background but its there #ik i say this everytime lol but i hope my characterization is good. thats the most important fic thing to me #title from arthur's song ''ivy league''