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evercries · 2 days

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ഒ ㅤ݂ㅤㅤ𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅ㅤ-ㅤᧉ᥎ı𝗅ㅤㅤ 𝓢𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅ㅤ ⠆ㅤ

╲ㅤ 𝖮𝖴𝖱 ㅤ✬ ㅤ𝖨𝖬𝖯𝖴𝖱𝖨𝖳𝖨𝖤𝖲 (Gojo x Reader)

Unfinished Fanfiction. ‹𝟹 High Chance of Re-writing. Word Count: 2783 AU: Older Sister of Maki Zenin x Arranged Marriage with Gojo Satoru. Thank you for 100 followers !! ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎ Until school is over, my uploading time will not exist, or will exist and you'll be hit with a surprise.

The few times you had visited your family home were kept short, as you disliked being associated with such a violent group that’s been around for more than a decade. You did not realize how much the building had changed until you stood in front of it, the day you returned from abroad to pay your family a visit and because you were demanded to return. The grip you had on the handle of your suitcase tightened as you were guided by the entrance staff towards the door to the huge building that stood four stories high.

“We’ll handle your luggage.” Commented the staff member for the third time, the past times you had refused allowing them to handle your luggage, but apparently, they did not take the polite no you had given. Not wanting to cause chaos early, you let go of your suitcase, allowing them to take it away.

You continued your steps up to the front door of the main building, but the door was already opened, the backs of your relatives clearly visible from where you stood.

“She’s here!” Shouted an excited Mai who came to your side to greet you, her enthusiasm filling the entire room while the others remained sat, silent, with an extremely serious expression on each of their faces. This included your younger sister, Maki who sat on the edge of the table, her legs crossed against each while her eyes narrowed at her twin sister who was busy dragging your hand into the living room area. Once there, Mai’s grip on your hand remained, almost as if she was showing off her new collection with the way she grinned.

The awkward silence that followed made you wonder what you were doing back in front of all of these people, it brought back the uncomfortable sensation that you had wanted to forget forever, if you could. Now sat, you waited for them to speak, but they stole glances at each other, almost as if they were playing a game with their eyes. All this happening while Mai sat down on the armchair, her hands in front of her while expressing the confusion you also visibly expressed.

“A kid ate Sukuna’s finger, it’s causing problems with the Gojo clan, and they haven’t found a solution yet.” Maki’s voice overpowered the others, the clear annoyance echoing in the way she spoke, the long stretch and emphasizing how the three clans had not found a solution. You’d think all of them would have one person who came up with something, even if it sounded ridiculous or impossible, but there was nothing.

“What does that have to do with me?” You wondered before pausing. “I must apologize, I thought there was an important family meeting that needed my attendance. From the way the letter was written, it was either I attended or everyone would die.” This was not a joke, even if you wanted to phrase it as such, they did word the letter with an obvious dramatic effect.

“This is about everyone’s safety, it could possibly end the world.” Naoya commented, his voice cracking with such a subtle hint of sarcasm.

“You meant our clan, right, princess?”

The sudden comment made the room turn awkward again, but this time it was clear they had another intention of making you come back in such a short notice, practically lying to you about the reason, which wasn’t that out of character for them, but had to be mentioned, and now they could not speak. This was an issue because the Zenin family could not handle a single family meeting without tables being thrown, someone being hurt, and roofs collapsing. That was how uncivilized they were, and you couldn’t even make that nonsense up.

“We’re talking about Itadori, right?” Mai asked the room, but was met with glares from the elders of the room, but Maki’s expression remained the same. “He has an awful shade of pink as his hair colour, he’s a very cheerful kid, and he’s horrible at combat.” Mai continued to talk, her eyes shifting from you to Maki, almost as if she was tempted to tease Maki.

“He has a lot to learn, is all.” Maki responded, her slender fingers pushing her glasses towards her eyes as she spoke.

Mai shrugged her shoulders, jumping off from the armchair before picking up her bag which was lying beside the chair the entire time, but you did not notice. “We have a meeting to attend, right, Maki?” Maki said nothing, just grabbed her bag and headed out the back door with her hair swaying back and forth.

“Y/N, do you want to come?” Your confused expression must’ve answered her questions. “It’s a meet, Maki sees it as a competition. Master Utahime says this will help us improve, but I doubt that we’ll have to do anything. Those students are so bad, especially their first years. Maki is just lucky to be in her second year.”

“Master Utahime?”

Hanging her bag around her neck, Mai nodded. “Utahime, Lori, my teacher.” Almost as if the elders weren’t present in the room, Mai grabbed your hands once again and began to drag you towards the back door Maki had used earlier. “She has a scar on the left side of her face, how? I have no clue, she wouldn’t tell us the reason.”

You weren’t sure of what was happening, but the best thing you could do was keep quiet as Mai dragged you outside the building, onto the streets, and towards her school where the meeting was taking place, apparently. In front of the school, you realized how old-fashioned the design was, but it was a traditional high school, from what you had heard from Mai’s continuous talking. Once inside the building, Mai brought you to the door of the office, you guessed it was the office because the sign said so, but you wouldn’t be absolutely sure. It had been years since you visited Japan, the language slowly detaching from who you wanted to be.

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

“And I’m supposed to leave you here.” She said, letting go of your hand. You glanced back at her, an eyebrow raised quickly. “Ougi.” It was all she said, but you knew exactly what she meant. That son of a gun, such a useless father he was. You nodded at her, which allowed her to give you a quick squeeze before running off in the opposite direction.

Now it was you and this door, it was such a pretty door. No, it wasn’t, you were just trying to pay less attention to the fact of being thrown out into the lions' den because your clan did not have enough knowledge and do it themselves, except Toji, he was the only one with the right mindset. Your late cousin, Toji Zenin was a man of actual talent, the only person you could defend for becoming a ruthless man, but unfortunately he had to die, to a blue-eyed freak with white hair. The worst combination of genes, you mumbled to yourself before turning the door knob, realized it was unlocked, and opened the door. As you were opening the door, it swung open, hitting someone in the face.

“Oh, goodness.” You said, a hand over your mouth as you let out a surprised gasp. In front of you was a blue-eyed freak? The man stood tall, his gorgeous sea-blue eyes staring directly at you while his thick eyebrows raised upwards with surprise, but the clear shade of a crimson reddish liquid ran down his nose.

“Blood. You’re bleeding.” You said, acknowledging the nose bleed this man was having while your voice trembled a bit while you tried to find something to stop it, settling with the long sleeve shift you had on. However, when you lifted your arm to clean up the blood, the man glared at you, his hand grabbing your arm.

“I’m fine.” He said, letting go of your arm before tilting his head upwards as if he was trying to stop it, but you quickly grabbed his head, which surprised him even more than his eyes widened.

“That’s dangerous for nose bleeds.” You commented, but he threw his head back away from your grip, but failed, which annoyed him even more. Just as you were about to say something, your eyes caught a glance of long hair, dark long hair standing behind the man. Your hands dropped from his face, apologizing quickly before turning around and walking straight to wherever the hallway took you. Eventually you found the exit door, but slumped against it for a quick second to process what you had just seen.

“That was Utahime.” You grumbled, your hands patting the side of your head softly, the thought of meeting her in such an awkward position did not occur to you, but you wondered if she realized who you were. It’s fine, it’s been years, and you did nothing wrong. You thought, convincing yourself that you’d be fine, before a buzz followed by a vibration coming from your pocket sounded. The notification that appeared on your phone screen brought a huge smile on your face. Yuki!

“Just heard you’re back in Japan, I feel betrayed! [inserted sad emoji.] I’m waiting in front of your apartment, we’ve got a lot to talk about.” It was what the text message said, which made you stand up fast, walk outside the high school, and dash through the streets towards the building. Surprisingly, you found your own way despite being guided by Mai earlier on in the day. Standing in front of your building was a signature motorcycle, its driver standing beside it, their back leaned unto it, but you could tell who it was. Her long blonde hair that almost reached her waist swayed with the wind.

“Are you perhaps waiting for someone?” You asked her, your head tilted slightly while your hands remained behind you.

“I am, actually.” Yuki replied before throwing her arms over your shoulder, pulling you closer to her as she rubbed your head roughly, your hair started to fizzle a bit.

“Oh, goodness, Yuki. Anything, but the hair.” You teased her while trying to get out of her grip to no avail, so you just stood there.

“The hair is the best part, though.” Yuki responded before being interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. Taking it out of your pocket, you checked the caller ID, which showed that your father was calling. Hesitate to pick up the call, you turned off your phone shortly before floods of text messages came through your Lock Screen. It was the location of a nearby house where you knew your father lived, separately from the entire family. Yuki noticed your intense expression, her eyes shifting its attention to your phone screen before sliding a helmet over your head, her hands carefully adjusting your hair and the small ones blocking your eyes.

“Yuki, I can’t. This is obviously another one of his plans to get me to start committing to the family.” You said to Yuki, but to no avail. She climbed over her motorcycle, sat down comfortably in the front while revving the bike’s handles with her hands, waiting for you to get on.

You climbed onto the motorcycle, behind Yuki, your hand wrapping around her waist to secure your balance. Once on, Yuk turned the key to the bike and started driving straight into the streets onto the road heading towards the location that your father sent.

The ride there was peaceful, the wind blowing past you sending a calm breeze through your face, making you smile. Opening your eyes after a while, you and Yuki stared at a building, a very traditional Japanese house, its house widened with stone while it was decorated with plants and flowers. Taking off your helmet, you patted your hair down before carefully climbing off the motorcycle.

“I don’t trust this man, Yuk, if I don’t come back out in ten minutes, kidnap me.” You said, setting down the helmet in Yuki’s hands. “Not actually, don’t kidnap me, but you know what I mean.”

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

Yuki chuckled as she nodded. You smiled back at her before heading into the house. As soon as you entered the house, your nose was filled with an overwhelming smell of tea, followed by a faint smell of smoke. The servants bowed down when they saw you approaching them, one stood straight, her arms guiding you to the corner where the door was slightly opened. You nodded, walking towards the door she pointed to, but you paused at the entrance, your eyes shifting from the servant to the door.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, revealing your father who was speaking with another man, but you could not tell who the man was as his back was towards you.

“Y/N.” Your father, Ogi Zenin said, his condescending tone was the first thing you noticed before you walked inside, closing the door behind you. Your eyes glanced down at the man who sat down below you, his white hair being the first you noticed. Ogi gestured to the empty seat beside the unknown man, his eyes staring intensely at you while smiling at the man.

Let’s get it over, you thought, sitting down beside the man, your head faced forward at your father, a visible uncomfortable expression on your face. Ogi stood up from where he sat, a groan escaping his mouth while he moved to your side, and then the wall that Ogi leaned unto earlier collapsed, exposing an entire room filled with people, mostly elderly people.

“Congratulations to the new couple, the road to peace and harmony in our clans.” Ogi shouted, the room responding with claps of cheers, shouts of happiness filled the room.

Your head turned to look at the man beside you, his calm composure sent a shiver down your spine, but before you got a full picture of how he looked, you stood up quickly. You turned to face your father, the anger that you felt was indescribable. “You’re a scum, an actual narcissist who doesn’t care about anyone, but yourself. To think I would give you the benefit of the doubt was my fault, but you are such a bloody fool. Go stick your fingers up your own ass, I am not marrying a stranger.” You shouted, but not loud enough for others to hear, before walking past Ogi and out the door.

Outside the door, the man grabbed your elbow, pulling you aside into a more isolated room, closing the door behind him. Surprised, you stared at him. “Can you move?” You asked him, but he did not move. Now that you had a better view of him, he looked familiar. The blue eyes that stared directly into yours, his white hair that flowed softly, he looked almost like! Nose bleeding guy from earlier.

His left eyebrow raised at you before placing a finger in front of his mouth, telling you to shh. “Behave.” It was all he said after some moments went by before the door was opened, multiple of the servants entering the room, approaching you with aggressive gestures. The man nodded before leaving the door, leaving you with women who looked determined to change your appearance.

Moments later, you found yourself in a huge dress which reached the ground, your hair was done, but you just stood there, uncomfortable with your phone tightened by your grip. You were annoyed, this was annoying, and the fact that you could not do anything but keep quiet was suffocating.

Maki and Mai entered the room, followed by two other people who you were unfamiliar with. Mai excitedly ran towards you, examining the dress and its beautiful decoration. “It’s so lovely, Y/N, you’re such a lucky girl.” Pausing, she turned to look at Maki. “Can you believe our sister fell in love with Gojo Sensai, that’s such a romantic story that only happens in movies.”

“What?” You asked, now this was making you more annoyed. “I fell in love with whom?”

“Gojo, Maki’s teacher.” Mai said, her hand pointing at the other students who stood beside Maki, “And Nobara and Itadori.”

You stood there in disbelief, but remained silent until Mai and the others left the room. You found this an opportunity to figure out what was happening. Walking about the room, the hallways were crowded with people, probably from the other clans, but you slipped past them carefully, remaining quiet as some of them congratulated you when you passed by.

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pinkeoni · 2 days

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During his emotionally charged speech in the van, Will says one particularly potent line.

"When you're different... You feel like... a mistake."

This line is highlighted visually by the camera shifting positions to outside of the van, a shot that is only used one other time to punctuate the end of the scene. This line holds extra weight and the show wants you to know it.

I already made an analysis on the word mistake and what that means for Will, but I want to look at the word different, which feels emphasized in the delivery of the line as well.

"When you're [pause for effect] different..."

It's popular headcanon among st fandom that "everyone in Hawkins is gay!" which sometimes bleeds from into their belief of real canon. Sexuality headcanon lists suddenly are seen with an air of truth to them, and a number of fanon queer ships are accompanied with evidence of their supposed endgame status.

I realize that this is kind of a... weird post to make. I'm not really making this to tell people to stop doing something, this is more of just a rattling off of some opinions I've had for awhile.

I do wanna start off with the obligatory: Do whatever the hell you want. I'm not here to stop you from doing something or tell you that you are wrong for thinking that a character is gay or for shipping something. You are allowed to ship whoever you want, think whatever you want about any character, any ship I don't like I have filtered. But I'm also allowed to not like these ships, or disagree with how others view certain characters. Just as others are allowed to have and express their opinion, I'm also allowed to have and state my opinions on the opinion website.

I think the important thing regarding Will being different is the fact that he is different. As my good friend @karenchildress once put it, if everyone were queer, it would cheapen the message the show is trying to give. Sure, the show displays a variety of ways of being different, but being gay is, among other things Will has been through re: being taken into the Upside Down, is Will's way of being different in Hawkins.

And of course Robin is gay as well, and while there is some crossover, the lived experiences of a gay man is different from that of a lesbian woman, which the show does touch on. Will's story is part of an extended AIDS metaphor, and Robin struggles to gain the attention of women in a world that seems to revolve around the attention of men.

It might be nice to have a moment between Will and Robin, although that alone won't solve Will's problem, i.e. his belief that being different makes him a mistake. Cause that's the thing: the resolution is that being different is a good thing.

If everyone character were queer, this would cheapen the message. Suddenly the resolution isn't that being different is a good thing, but that he isn't different after all.

So then, are queer stories meant to have only token characters?

I think it depends on the type of story, and what it's trying to say. Heartstopper has an eclectic queer cast, but it's also a show that embraces finding community and other people like you. Sex Education has a variety of different sexual identities, but it's also a show that aims to explore a lot of different perspectives.

And there are also queer stories where the queer character's disposition, and their struggle because of that, is a big part of the story. I believe this is what this show is trying to do— highlight Will's difference and how that pertains to his personal struggle and the resolution of that.

One argument that I hear against Will with powers is the idea that making him more different would be bad for his character, because he hates being different. But the thing is, Will is going to learn that his differences are a good thing, which may include any possible powers.

Of course Will isn't the only one with powers, and he also isn't the only gay one. El, Henry, and Kali all have powers, and Robin, Vickie, and Mike (and maybe Henry? I haven't seen TFS myself so I'm not commenting on that) are all gay. So while he's not alone, these things are still a rarity. It's not a case of a headcanon list with mostly everyone gay and some token straights.

"Characters are not straight by default."

This sentiment isn't unique to the st fandom and also didn't originate within this fandom, but it is something that I hear often. And it's... not really true, although it kind of depends on the piece of media we are talking about. It might be easy to say this about a show made in the 2020's, although this same sentiment is hard to state about, well, most shows made before the 2020s. And even then, it depends on what the show is going for.

People being not straight by default is a true statement in real life. You shouldn't assume a sexuality for anyone, gay, straight or what have you. But characters are made by people, and people have different biases on how these characters should be written. Calling the Duffers "two straight men" would go against what I just said, although I don't think that the show was written with everyone being gay in mind. Aside from the 4 (maybe 5) I listed, the other characters are not written to be queer. They just aren't.

All of the queer characters have arcs that feature their queerness. Will's queerness has been mentioned since season one. Robin's romance becomes part of her plot in season 4, and Vickie is introduced as her love interest. Romance has always been an important facet of Mike's story since season one, and his failure in a straight romance is highlighted in seasons three and four. Chekhov's painting of season 4 seems to solidify a gay Mike.

Elmax and Ronance as endgame options not only have no lead up but are also mean spirited towards Lucas and Vickie. Elmax gets together, breaking up Lumax, which has been built up since season two, and Lucas is supposed to be okay with this because????? Ronance get's together, effectively writing off a queer character that the show had introduced, and she can't even fulfill the reason she exists in the first place? Rockie is not the most well developed relationship out there, but it's the one that the show has decided to go for. Maybe Ronance could work, in an alternate universe where the show actually wrote that in.

For those that argue that both Max and Nancy are queer I simply... disagree. And you can disagree with me too, we'll both just agree to disagree. I'm not against headcanons, which are usually harmless, but also usually driven by the desires of the headcanon-er and less so the canon of the show. Which again, is fine, but it's also these headcanons which are being used to drive an argument for actual show canon. Usually the argument for any character being queer that wasn't already listed in canon rests solely on vibes, not any concrete evidence that may suggest actual attraction to the same sex.

More substantial evidence usually comes when someone applies a queer lens to a certain character, but an interpretation can be different from authorial intent. And sometimes, the viewer may be so focused on the metaphorical, that they fail to see the literal.

I do think that you could easily apply a queer lens to El's story. Her story is about, in her words, "not belonging," in society, having to remain in hiding, and deviating from feminine norms. I can easily see how you can derive a queer message from this, but all of the traits listed above are a result of her having powers and being raised in a lab, not being attracted to the same sex. Metaphor alone cannot prove that she likes girls.

Going back to Nancy, Nancy's romantic options are between Jonathan and Steve, although the show seems to make it clear that it's going with Jonathan in the end, what with Jancy holding hands at the end of season 4. Steve get's brought up in conversation between the two, alluding two some unresolved tension that's likely to be brought up in season 5, and Robin is... at the high school with Vickie. That is the end of the season establishing the arcs and romances for the final season.

"Gay people didn't exist in the 80's."

That's an argument on the opposite end of things that just isn't true, although I've also heard the counter for this argument, that gay people did in fact exist in the 80's, as evidence that everyone is gay. I'm not really here to argue whether or not gay people existed in the 80's (they did) I'm just here to argue what I think the canon of the show is presenting.

That being said, the show taking place in the 80's is still significant. It may not be a hyperrealistic depiction of the 80's, but the show does seem to understand the idea that at that time, it was very difficult for gay people come out and to start relationships. It's the reason that Robin can't just go up to Vickie and ask her out, and it's the reason that Will can't just say that the painting is from him. It's the reason why Mike hasn't quite yet left his relationship with El and accepted himself. It's the reason why Rockie has to discreetly flirt through peanut butter sandwiches. A character who hasn't had queerness built into their plot, or a relationship that has no buildup, isn't suddenly going to become canon in the last season.

I was talking about this once with a friend who used the show Only Murders in the Building as an example. In the shows second season, Selena Gomez's character is revealed to be bisexual and dates a character that Cara Delevingne plays for most of the season. The show doesn't build up to her character being bisexual, she doesn't come out as such, the other characters don't make a big deal out of it, she just is. So why can this show do something like that but Stranger Things can't?

Well, Only Murders is a show that takes place in present day, and is a light-hearted comedy (albeit with murder). A character suddenly being bisexual with no set up makes sense for the tone that the show has established and when it takes place. Stranger Things takes place in the 80's and establishes within it's first season and maintains it throughout that gay people get killed and are seen as social pariahs.

It's not that I don't understand where the desire to have more characters be queer comes from, especially characters that people already like and relate to. I don't think it's harmful to think that these characters are queer, I'm making an argument purely with regard to authorial intent and the actual outcome of the show. Again, feel free to disagree with me and continue to do whatever you want, these are just some thoughts that I have had on my mind for a while and wanted to put out.

#well this has been sitting in the drafts for a while #sorry to focus on the female characters #i would write something about steve but i also just. dont even tough that side with a ten foot poll #anyways #dont feel obligated to read all of this this is a post for me than anyone else #stranger things #conclusion is a little flimsy didnt really know what else to add or how to wrap it up tbh

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within-ur-intro-verse · 22 hours

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I think it's very interesting that, during Round 2, Till was able to get away with killing an alien on a live Alien TV show. Sure, the alien guitar was probably low on the totem pole when it comes to importance, but it was living being (it had organs/blood) and, presumedly, a measure of sentience.

Humans are considered pets here. Alien Stage rounds are practically the equivalent of a galactically broadcast, legal, non-violent dog fights. This is like one of those dogs turning around and instead of fighting each other, they bit their owner. And it shows in the reactions of the aliens in the audience.

They are super shocked and disturbed by this display. By the expression on Till's face you can tell he didn't think of his actions like a declaration of war from a human rebel. He was acting like he destroyed an inanimate object to emphasize his point, not killed a member of a group that made him a human slave.

It also intrigues me how the alien guards act towards the contestants as the Rounds go on. In Round 2, Till is able to both kill an alien and defeat his opponent before the guards beat and restrain him.

In Round 5, Mizi is able to choke/punch Luka in the face repeatably before the guards intervene. And since they interfered before the Round was over, you can see visibly from their body language that they are unsure of how to proceed. Do they shoot and kill her for instigating a fight, even though she hasn't finished her song and so hasn't officially lost her Round yet? Thanks to their dallying, the human resistance has time to swoop in and rescue her from that fate.

In Round 6, Ivan kisses then proceeds to "strangle" his competitor, much like how Mizi did to Luka (but not really because Ivan doesn't want Till to get hurt, unlike Mizi with Luka). There still seems to be a delay from when Ivan starts "attacking" Till to when the security actually starts shooting at him. And the two first hits look more like warning shots than anything, especially since one hit him in the shoulder. It wasn't until the third shot that the damage was severe enough for him to bleed from the mouth. That means they gave him two chances to backpedal and cease his violence before deciding he needed to be put down.

So, what was my point with all of this? Probably just to emphasize that if Alien Stage is indicative of how the general alien population would act towards humans, then they are clearly unprepared to deal with the human uprising the news hinted at.

It's stated in the wiki that the Alien Stage that we are currently watching is the 50th iteration of the show. Had none of the previous human performers ever rebelled in the slightest? Because the guards were obviously unprepared for all three acts of violence that occurred in the Rounds. There was no established procedure in place to deal with outbursts from the contestants.

Here's how the humans can still win.

#alnst #till #mizi #ivan #meta #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #alien stage

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centrally-unplanned · 10 hours

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Oh lets drag up some more 2000's politics debates - Noah Smith had this take today:

So bait is bait, but I think this fun bait, I'll take this. Its a definition game (what does "win" mean) but that can still be elucidating.

There is obviously a sense in which the US won the War in Iraq - which is extremely easy to reveal by looking at Afghanistan! Unlike there, where the explicit, named enemy of the US outlasted us, overthrew our imposed regime, and took power, in Iraq it is true that the country is currently governed by the system the US built, and it rules with relative stability. Not ideal, but hey its not Syria or anything. This would in fact be *shocking* to people in the 2000's - back then the general vibe was that Iraq would descend into full-on civil war. People openly discussed throwing in the towel and just letting the country split in three. And then all of that just fizzled out over time, and people started buying into the system. Its not glorious "nation building" but it looks like it stuck. It is fair to say that Iraq is not in fact a disaster case study in the nation building timeline (from an outcomes standpoint, from other lens like humanitarian its different), and its often unfairly seen that way.

But there is just no coherent definition of "win" divorced from strategy, divorced from goals. Imagine if the US today jointly invaded Israel & Gaza both, and hey throw in Hezbollah too, what the fuck ever (Pro tip: don't do this) with the goal of setting up governments that did whatever the fuck they wanted, don't care, as long as they don't attack each other anymore. And we got Iraq today as a result? Eh, I won't fight you too hard if you call that a win. This magical funland scenario hit the target, right? The US wanted to de-escalate regional conflicts in the region, it did that. How nice a place those are to live or w/e wasn't the point.

In Iraq, "not falling apart" was not the goal. The goal was end Sadaam's WMD program, which well raincheck on that, but moving on was also to End Terrorism by Sending a Message to other enemy countries like Iran and also building a beacon of secular, liberal democracy in the Middle East to show the people that there was a better path to Islamic Fundamentalism, thus reducing its strength in the region.

It Did Not Do That.

Man, can I not emphasize enough how much it did not do that, how much the War in Iraq did not reduce the strength of Islamic Fundamentalism in the Middle East. It is literally, not figuratively-literally but actually-literally, one of the greatest own goals in the history of strategy since war has existed. I have explained that part in more detail too often in the past to repeat, but do I even need to? Say the sentence "The War in Iraq reduced Islamic extremism as a political movement" out loud and try not to laugh. You can't, its too absurd to get past your lips.

From that lens, the proper lens, I do not think you can call the War in Iraq a win. How stable Iraq is, while a dodged bullet for its people, barely scratches the surface of what would need to be shown to call it a win; and I see precious few nails that can join it.

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fafnir19 · 3 days

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Clothes make the man

Felix was typing furiously at his desk in the bustling newsroom, his eyes fixed on the screen and fingers dancing over the keyboard. As a volunteer at a major newspaper, he harbored ambitions of becoming a journalist in the economics department. Despite his intense dedication, securing a position there seemed increasingly unlikely.

The secretaries were unkind, refusing to provide any help as he tackled the workload alone. "Hey, Felix, can I have a word with you?" a voice called out from behind him. It was Lucy, the editor of the fashion department. "Sure, Lucy. What's up?" Felix turned around in his swivel chair to face her. "Our journalist for the fashion beat is sick today, and we need someone to cover an interview with Victor Vlein, the famous fashion designer. Can you do it?" Lucy asked, sounding hopeful.

Felix sighed, feeling utterly disinterested in the fashion world. "I've never covered fashion before, but I'll give it a shot." "Great! The interview is in an hour at Vlein's studio. Good luck!" Lucy flashed him a smile before hurrying off to attend to other business. Arriving at Vlein's studio, Felix composed himself and prepared for the interview.

As he entered, he was greeted by Victor Vlein, a tall, imposing figure with a stern expression. "Mr. Vlein, I'm Felix from the newspaper," he introduced himself, extending his hand. "Ah, the replacement journalist. Let's get this over with," Vlein replied curtly. Felix wasted no time and dove straight into the interview. "Mr. Vlein, your fashion seems to perpetuate outdated male stereotypes. What do you have to say about that?" Victor Vlein raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Felix's directness.

"Appearance and reality often merge, young man. Maybe you should try on my designs to understand." Reluctantly, Felix agreed to try on Vlein's attire despite finding it utterly ridiculous.

Felix stood in Vlein's studio, trying on one of the designer's bold ensembles. As he struggled to pull the leather jacket over his shoulders, Vlein stepped forward, his dark eyes keenly assessing Felix's frame. "It's not working for me, Mr. Vlein. I don't see how this can change my perception," Felix remarked, frowning as he looked at himself in the mirror. With precise movements, Vlein deftly adjusted the jacket's collar, smoothing down the fabric over Felix's chest before moving to the trousers. His long fingers meticulously tucked and rearranged the pants, emphasizing the need for a wider stance, while his intense gaze seemed to be sizing up Felix's every reaction. "Please, Mr. Vlein, I don't think this is necessary," Felix protested weakly. Ignoring Felix, Vlein spread Felix’s legs, insisting that men should stand with a wide stance. "You see, the key to commanding respect is in how you carry yourself," Vlein explained, his deep voice echoing in the studio. "Stand with pride and confidence, as if you own the room." Continuing his transformative touch, Vlein lifted Felix's chin with a firm yet gentle grip, directing his gaze towards the mirror. "Hold your head high. Look at yourself as if you are the embodiment of power and authority," Vlein instructed. Then, with a surprising amount of intimacy, Vlein reached out to adjust Felix's hair, running his fingers through the strands and rearranging them with a sense of purpose. Suddenly Vlein grabbed his crotch and a visible bulge appeared in Felix's pants. Vlein remarked with a grin, “And always wear tight-fitting pants to show everyone that you’re the stud!”

The designer's touch was both unsettling and oddly soothing as he fashioned Felix's appearance to match his vision. Felix felt an undeniable discomfort as Vlein's hands roamed freely, but the sense of compulsion held him back from protesting. Throughout the entire adjustment, Felix remained speechless, his heart racing with a mixture of astonishment and unease. Finally, Vlein took a step back, his intense scrutiny softened by a look of satisfaction. "There you go, Felix. You look the part now. Embrace your masculinity. Own it," Vlein declared, taking a moment to appreciate the transformation reflected in the mirror.

Staring at himself in the mirror, Felix could hardly believe his eyes. He now resembled one of Vlein's runway models, his physique chiseled and free of any excess fat. Felix struggled to reconcile the image before him with his own sense of self. The chiseled features and powerful demeanor felt like an unfamiliar facade, imposed upon him by Vlein's deliberate manipulations.

Confused and shocked, Felix was informed by Vlein that he would remain like this for three weeks before returning to revert to his former self. "I think we're done here. Thank you for your time, Mr. Vlein," Felix said, fighting to maintain composure.

In the following days, Felix noticed a stark change in how people treated him. They acknowledged his authority, eagerly listening to him. Women in the office looked at him with desire, their eyes lingering on his transformed physique, willingly obeying his commands.

Colleagues hesitated to disobey him, instinctively acknowledging his newfound confidence. "Hey, Jeff, can you take care of these reports for me?" as Felix asked a colleague, handing over a stack of papers without hesitation. Delegating tasks became easier for Felix, and he began to adopt an air of arrogance in his interactions. He never hesitated to spread his legs wide and hold his head high, as Vlein had emphasized. People noticed the change in his demeanor, though few dared to question it. He effortlessly gained entry into the economics department, despite exerting much less effort than other applicants.

At the end of the three weeks, Felix hesitated to return to his former self. "What if I could stay like this for a bit longer?" he wondered.

Felix returned to Victor Vlein as agreed and stood in his studio, feeling a curious mix of discomfort and bewilderment. Victor Vlein, with a wry smile, fixed his gaze on Felix. "Tell me, Mr. Felix, how does it feel to be seen as an object of desire?" Vlein's voice had a subtle edge, as if he knew something Felix didn't. Felix felt a chill run down his spine as Vlein's question lingered in the air. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Vlein," Felix replied, his tone guarded. Vlein's smile widened, and he took a step closer to Felix. "You're a journalist, aren't you? You must know the power of perception. Your appearance now commands attention, desire even. How does that make you feel?" "It's … unbelievable, to say the least," Felix confessed, averting his eyes from Vlein's piercing gaze. "I never sought such attention or... objectification." "But it's a reality in the world of fashion and influence, Mr. Felix. Appearance shapes perception, and perception shapes power," Vlein stated matter-of-factly. It was as if Vlein held the key to a truth that Felix wasn't ready to confront.

Vlein suggested reversing Felix's appearance as previously agreed, but Felix hesitated. He wanted to explore the power of appearance a little longer. "But Mr. Vlein, I feel different, confident, like I've never felt before," Felix pleaded, trying to convey his inner turmoil. "This change has brought about a newfound charisma and respect. I don't want to revert to my former self yet. Please, let me remain as I am now." Victor Vlein regarded Felix with a discerning look, contemplating his request. "You do have potential, Felix. I can see it," Vlein mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I'll agree under one condition: you work as a model for some of my fashion shows. You'll be the perfect ambassador for my brand." Eagerly agreeing, Felix imagined nothing better than representing Vlein's cool fashion and showcasing his newfound confidence to the world.

Felix's heart hammered in his chest as he stepped onto the runway for the first time, his steps hesitant and uncertain. The bright lights blazed down on him, casting his shadow long behind him as he moved forward, each echoing footstep a testament to his trepidation. It felt like the weight of a thousand eyes bore down on him, scrutinizing his every move. His breaths came quick and shallow, his palms clammy as he fought to still the quiver in his hands. As he reached the center of the runway, the crowd's hushed whispers seemed to echo like distant waves crashing upon the shore, adding to the mounting pressure. But then something shifted within him. As he stood beneath the spotlight, the gazes of the audience melted into a symphony of admiration, their applause an electrifying crescendo that ushered in a wave of newfound confidence.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the uncertainty vanishing like mist before the sun. With each step, his posture straightened, exuding an aura of self-assuredness that captivated the audience. The once nervous Felix had transformed into the epitome of a charismatic bad boy, commanding attention with every stride. Victor Vlein, observing from the sidelines, leaned over to his assistant. "Watch him closely," Vlein whispered, "he's fully succumbed to his new persona, embracing it with such ease. He's become the perfect embodiment of my brand, effortlessly captivating the audience as a sweet bad boy."

Meanwhile, at the newspaper, Felix's enigmatic transformation had not gone unnoticed. His magnetism drew attention, and his charm and newfound sense of self-assuredness propelled him to the top of his career in the economic department, despite having to exert much less effort than other applicants. Felix had indeed left behind the echoes of uncertainty and emerged as a shining star, basking in the dual realms of the fashion world and the prestigious economic landscape, successfully embodying both identities.

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #male model tf #male model

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an-architect-of-words · 3 days

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Bunny’s Moral Crisis and Julian being Anti Judeo-Christian

I was positive I got the impression, during my first read of TSH, that Bunny was truly morally bothered by the farmer-killing. Then I started wondering, post-reading, if I was being too generous, and Bunny legit was just worried for his life and was angry that the group was keeping secrets from him (that second one is what Henry told Richard).

But I got to the part in my on-and-off listening to the audiobook where Julian tells Richard he’s wondering what’s going on with Bunny. Julian says Bunny keeps approaching him and asking to talk about morality (particularly sin and forgiveness). Julian says he’s getting concerned that Bunny may convert to Marion’s religion. He asks Richard what denomination she is, and Richard says he thinks she’s Presbyterian. Julian is disappointed and says the only Christian denomination he can gracefully accept losing a student to is Roman Catholic.

Now this scene is interesting to me for a couple reasons. Firstly, it does indicate there may be more going on with Bunny internally than the Greek class gives him credit for. If Bunny is trying to approach Julian privately to talk about ethical dilemmas, this shows some level of genuineness in his questions (Julian also believes it to be earnest questioning). But secondly, Julian’s comment about only finding the Roman rite to be a worthy foe is so, so interesting to me.

The scene shows that something more is going on with Bunny, but it also reveals that Julian hates Judaism and Christianity— making exceptions for people like Dante and Giotto. The thing that’s fascinating to me about this detail is that Julian’s statements show the central theme of the whole book: that beauty is worth something if it’s backed by things of substance (Georges Laforgue says this, and the same thing is said by Theo in The Goldfinch. This is a concept important to Tartt’s writing).

Julian has a basic respect for Catholics, because Catholicism traditionally also has emphasis on art, philosophy, and classical aesthetic beauty. And, perhaps most importantly, Roman Catholics have kept Latin as the language of the Church and Vatican. The medieval Catholic Church was perhaps the biggest patron and commissioner of artists, and from the Catholic Church came Notre Dame, Aquinas, Dante, etc. Here, Julian mentions that the Catholics make “worthy foes” for the pagans, and what he means is that there’s all this aesthetic beauty and classical study within the Catholic Church. But it’s key here that Julian hates other branches of Christianity. The scene emphasizes that the only thing he enjoys about Catholics is their specifically classical history.

The thing I like about this detail is that it is a really specific bit of characterization to show that Julian does not care about morality or the search for truth that’s at the heart of all religions and mythologies. He’s different from people like Aquinas because he does not see human art and language as a means to articulate and pay homage one’s moral beliefs. He sees art/language as the highest good in and of itself. Once you remove the classics aspects of Catholicism, Julian does not care. And we see this because of his apparent disdain for Protestants and Jews. This also reminds me of Bunny saying Henry thinks Jamaicans have no culture. Obviously, they do, but it’s not the particular kind of culture and expression Julian and Henry find legitimate.

I guess I like how Donna Tartt understands her own theme and can show how it’s applicable so naturally just in the way her characters talk. We get a lot of hints about how closed-minded and shallow Julian actually is before we get to the end of the book where it’s confirmed.

#donna tartt #the secret history #tsh #bunny corcoran #julian morrow #the secret history analysis #honestly Henry and Julian would like Byzantine Catholics #holy moly have you been in a Byzantine church?#stunning

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arabella-s-arts · 12 hours

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I've watched Dead Boy Detectives twice now, and I've been wanting to make a post about Edwin's romantic relationships.

I don't want Edwin and Charles to end up together. Sorry.

Like, when I started the show I was wondering if they were a thing, but then I remembered them saying they were best friends, and my view adjusted to fit that. And now that's all it feels like. At first I was disappointed when Edwin had a crush on Charles, I didn't want their friendship to be ruined the way shows often do when this is a plotline. But I should've trusted this show, how they handled it was beautiful. I guess I'm scared if they became a couple too, even though I trust this show would do a good job making sure to emphasize their friendship. At this point though, their chemistry feels very platonic to me, and I think it would be nice to have a storyline where one's in love with the other without those feelings ever being reciprocated. Unrequited feelings is not a tragedy.

Now for Edwin and the Cat King...

First I'd like to say that someone thought Edwin was demiromantic, and I 100% agree. Not demisexual though, dude was immediately feeling a lot of sexual attraction toward the Cat King.

Anyway, Edwin and the Cat King. I kind of hate to say this, but I kind of like it? Like, not in a 'I think this relationship is healthy' way, more in a 'this is really entertaining' way. I don't particularily like the fact I like it. They have good chemistry, and a really fun dynamic, which makes them fun to watch. But it's so toxic. Like Lukas Gage is the reason I like the Cat King, otherwise, I would be shying away from all the red flags. Despite what the Cat King said about being consentual, having a guy give you a sexual favor, or take on a much harder task is still using your power to your advantage. And the way he acted in the woods was concerning to say the least.

If Edwin and the Cat King were to eventually be in a relationship the Cat King would have to go to so much therapy (like a lot). He would have to clean up his act a lot. I feel like he is possible for redemption, and I would enjoy seeing it.

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #edwin paine #cat king #charles rowland #demiromantic

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soullessjack · 2 days

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🔥 jack

oh my godddd I have so many unpopular opinions where do I even start….HOLY DISCLAIMER BATMAN!

anyways so in no particular order or tier system:

✯ i don’t think jack would wear anything feminine im sorry spn fandom. for lolz he has same-outfit-pattern-everyday autism and for serious it’s like. Really weird how fandoms tend to HC/portray non-binary amabs (and men/transmascs in general) almost exclusively as GNC or fem-presenting…like DGMW that is a real and valid form of self expression but it’s not the Only type of non-binary expression that exists. and honestly…**dare I say that most fandom/queer spaces just need to realize that queer masculinity exists and it doesn’t always have to be a matter of breaking gender norms??

** genuinely do whatever u want idc I can’t stop you i don’t want to stop you yada yada. paint his nails and put him in a skirt all u want but Please recognize patterns yall 😭

✯ more headcanon complaints (see disclaimer above ⇧) but I promise to switch it up soon. anyways every time somebody on this lil website says something along the lines of “Jack can’t handle/doesn’t like [insert violence, scary or adult-oriented thing], he prefers [soft or blatantly childlike things]” I shrivel inward like a dead spider. It’s annoying, it’s completely inaccurate to his canon personality and interests, it’s annoying ˣ2, and whether ppl wanna admit it or not—it stems from infantilization. not necessarily ableism, as infantilization is not exclusive to disabled people, but still just about the same thing.

honestly all I see of majority jack headcanons are ones that set him back to just being a child or otherwise being treated like one. for example, the one about him being able to shapeshift is pretty cool...until it just becomes about him deciding to age regress, yknow, to an age set he canonically chose not to go through, showed no desire to be in, and is more offended than anything to be considered as such. all of his interests have to be some shit like bluey or animal crossing, and he drinks apple juice from a sippy cup instead of beer. BARF.

I’ve lessened on my keyboard warring over babyjack in the past year but I have not lessened in being a hater. and I’ve said this before, but the baby-jack au already breached headcanon containment a long time ago when it’s not only so widespread that ppl take it for canon and it makes having any intelligent conversation about him nearly fucking Impossible, but it also lead to harassment and accusations of being a fucking predator, to anyone who dared find a whole grown man attractive. any potential jack ship, like jackharper? automatic grooming case to them. it’s like the fandom is just so dead set on this idea that jack really truly is a child in every aspect you can think of, and for what? if it’s just a headcanon, something you know is not part of the actual show, then don’t go Travis the Chimp levels of apeshit when you see him being treated like he is canonically 💀

unpopular opinion numero 3 which is slightly connected to 2:

✯ baby-jack and a handful of the domestic au’s are BORING (see disclaimer again ⇧), not just on a surface level to my suiting, but also because I feel like it just ..misses the point of the show?

the ragtag untraditional found family is now as nuclear and traditional as the Atomic Age. Dean and Cas are the most heteronormative “who wears the pants in the relationship” gay couple ever, Sam is demoted to the uncle that gets written out of his own family, Jack is just there to make his gay dads look cute and emphasize that they’re a gay family (while still being very heteronormative), and at least 5 of them could be found in a California gated community. everything that made any of them unique or defined their personalities is just scrubbed off, even for an AU.

so much of the later seasons focus on Sam and Dean realizing that they don’t have to make a hard splitting decision between the lives they want to live; that they can find a balance; be happy and have good things—namely families—without giving up hunting (and vice versa, that they can have hunting without giving up on family or happiness). everybody loves the gay hunters from S10(?12?) and what they represented for Dean, but I almost never see that be put into practice in the fandom.

THEY’RE ALREADY DOMESTIC!!! AND WITH THAT PERFECT BALANCE!!!! Season 13 quite literally gave Team Free Will a surrogate son to raise and established them as a family; highly untraditional, largely dysfunctional, overall not fitting of a family family, and yet they are a family still. Dean wears an apron and cooks and bakes for everyone; he built himself a man cave and established two separate family night events that they all ritually keep up; Sam has a morning jogging routine and visits his girlfriend every so often; Jack was taught how to drive, has normal chores like washing dishes, and gets groceries. And they didn’t just have that while fighting monsters—they had that while fighting a whole fucking archangel. Even if it did go down the gutter by the end, they still had it: domestic familial bliss and violent messy hunting without having to trade one for the other.

✯ I truly genuinely think Jack’s relationship with Dean is the best, most interesting and most misunderstood out of the three, and I also think that the problems with his relationship to Cas and Sam are hugely overlooked by the fandom—granted they are very small, especially if you’re comparing it to Dean, but they’re still there and I think we should bully Cas and Sam about it more. I shan’t elaborate because it’s 5AM and this was an impulsive add-on ❤️

✯ getting normal now…his plaid pattern jacket from the first half of Ouroboros is ugly as SHIT i have never liked it and don’t think I ever will. but I cannot deny it; he got that shit on.

✯ most unpopular opinion of all, I wanna do insane shit to his cervix 🙌

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ronearoundblindly · 13 hours

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No Promises (2)

Lloyd Hansen x rival assassin!Reader

Don't Be Blue, Bunny Boy (see previous or LH Masterlist)

Summary: Lloyd underestimates how dangerous you are when he finds you wrapped like a gift in his hotel room.

Warnings for smut, but it's Lloyd so there's a knife, a gun, name-calling, cursing, drugging, dubcon due to somno, two a**holes in competition, unprotected sex (honestly, just never do anything Lloyd would do, okay? great. excellent. good chat), and possibly the best banter I've ever written gdi. Darkfic...but, like, funny??? For the love of everything, MINORS DNI. I have plenty else for you on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2k 🫣

*This CT 2024 Challenge work can be read completely out-of-context from the rest of the mini-series (which isn't even written yet anyway, lalalahhhh).

It’s bad enough you took the keycard off that fat fuck of a target first, but failing to follow you smacks Lloyd’s ego in just the wrong way. By the time he gets back to his luxurious hotel room, he’s fuming and itching to shoot something. You don’t need to be a mind-reader to know this; the man is still a man, after all, no matter how trained and controlled he thinks he is.

That’s why you’re here, trussed up in a sapphire blue bodysuit, smirking at the irritation radiating off of your rival as his eyes rake the length of your mostly-bare figure.

“Darling,” you burst, posing like a ‘50s housewife by the armchair, playful and sickeningly sweet. “You’re home! I was so worried.”

Anger quivers his lip coat till he vaguely resembles a pouting porcupine. God, you hate mustaches. You’re willing to bet—if you really put your back into it—you could hump his face with such friction, it’d rub him smooth. There are less-worthwhile endeavors that you’ve completely only today. Why not experiment?

“You have some fucking nerve, bitch.”

Lloyd keeps his steps forward into the room slow and casual, though his ire is obvious. He stops halfway across the carpet, unzips his leather jacket, and tosses it onto the foot of the bed.

He seems surprised when you strut over without hesitation; he hasn’t handed over any weapons, but you haven’t asked for a reason. Lloyd’s reputation is cocky, commanding, and curious—in that order—so he won’t start speculating till it’s too late.

Indeed, what possible harm could you inflict wearing this lil’ ol’ thing, huh?

As you get closer, his hand reaches out instinctually.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tsk in warning. “If you rip my lace, I will gut you like a fish. Understood?”

“Can’t make any promises, but…”

Lloyd, undeterred, clamps his hand between your legs and runs a finger through your folds, proving the crotchless lingerie isn’t in danger of typical snags.

The pad of his digit is rough and teasing.

“I think we can work with that,” he growls.

Oh yes, he’s definitely, perfectly, and predictably cocky. What fun you’ll have.

You make a show of gasping when he starts dipping two fingers into your heat, rolling your head as if truly undone by the minimal effort, and wait for him to watch his own ministrations, distracted.

Then you strike.

You grab his wrist, twisting harshly, yanking the arm behind him, straddling his shoulders so your legs pinch over his neck, and he turns slightly to nip at your thigh. You’re not surprised he still thinks he’ll win.

His steely eye winks as he looks up.

“Bet I can make you cum first.”

A dramatic sigh escapes you. You release his arm to sensually smooth your palm down his body, bending to whisper, “that implies I give a shit if you come at all.”

You fling yourself backwards, using the momentum to catapult him over you and into the side of the bed.

The mustache emphasizes his sneer when Lloyd pushes up on an elbow.

“I, too, like using a firm hand when breaking bitches’ spirits,” he mutters, reaching for his switchblade which you present instead, wiggling it in your hand with a grin.

“Oh, bunny boy, were you too firm to notice my gentle caress?” You deftly unlatch and expose the knife’s edge. “Now, strip.”

You tick the blade quickly for effect.

“Show me some skin so I can mark my two points so far. I know how you love to keep score.”

Lloyd rights himself, peeling his black turtleneck over his head and smoothing his hair into place calmly. “I can kill you just as easily naked as I can clothed.”

“Of course, cutie pie, and I’m counting on many little deaths.” You look at the knife in your hand, concerned. “Please tell me this isn’t the biggest weapon you're packing, or I’ll be so disappointed.”

He’s smug while unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants. Lloyd Hansen now proudly stands stark nude.

You let your eyes go comically wide, but then your brow furrows and you shrug.

“You’re welcome to keep talking while I sit on your face, but otherwise… I’m unimpressed.”

Lloyd huffs with indignation.

“Fuck you.”

Like the footballer he used to be, he rushes you.

“Promise?” you coo, dodging him and landing a sharp smack to his butt cheek. It’s spectacularly sculpted, plump, and rock hard all at once.

“Oh my! Darling, you did not lead with your best asset…” You notice the faint scar on his pale skin and giggle. “Little prick got pricked, I see.”

Your amusement gives him a split second to grab you, and Lloyd uses the opportunity to shove you back into the window so violently the thick glass rattles its frame.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he spits viciously, not so cocky as before.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been begging you to do for me, sweetheart?”

Mouth hanging open in a taunt, one hand strokes him, the other warns. The tip of the knife you still wield barely grazes the notch between ribs where you could swiftly puncture his lung. Lloyd watches, fuming and mesmerized, until you transfer the pooling saliva to your palm and resume jerking his cock.

“A firm hand really does make you harder, doesn’t it?”

That snaps him out of it.

He scrambles to bend you over that same armchair you started at, and Lloyd’s version of prep is a single, perfunctory dig of two fingers into your cunt.

To his credit, you are dripping wet for him, so, though his need to check before chaffing himself wasn’t necessary, he rewards you with a beautifully debauched moan as he sinks to the hilt with one thrust.

Lloyd’s got something to prove.

Good.

He’s so focused on groping around to your breasts beneath the stretchy lace that you stick the switchblade deep into the chair’s cushion and hold on; whatever else you’re doing is irrelevant to him. There is only fucking. There is only feeling as if he owns you in this moment.

You let out a high whine and goad him. “Love it when you’re gentle with me, sweetie.”

That earns you an unhinged snarl and the pummeling slap of his hips against your thighs.

He’s so easy to motivate, a majestic maniac on a mission to turn you stupid, if only until the stench of sex dissipates. If the idiot would just reach down to your clit, you’d spare him, but Lloyd is a man.

A selfish, egotistical princeling who’s a good marksman and a shit human. Good, for the business you two are in. But not as good as you.

You sigh like you’re bored, sinking your chin to rest on your outstretched arms.

He stops moving, grunting as he pulls out of you and snapping one of your shoulder straps.

“Fine. You wanna put in the work, sunshine? You go for it.” Lloyd flops onto the bed, face up, his arms spread wide and high.

Of course, he’s going for the gun under the pillow. You know it, you’ve anticipated it, and you decided it would be a nice safety blanket to leave him, to keep him feeling comfortable.

So you crawl on top of him anyway, rocking yourself against his cock for a few seconds before shifting higher. You giggle for emphasis.

You’re just here to fuck him. You’re just here to fuck with him. That’s the truth, and he knows it. Lloyd simply doesn’t know the conditions of both your releases…yet.

“Such a desperate slut,” he rumbles as you settle above his face.

Before you cover your view of him, you pinch at his jaw and smirk.

“Only munches wear a fucking mustache.”

His cheek gets a condescending pat when he smiles back.

He’s cute when he’s having fun, apparently.

Lloyd licks his lips and slowly lifts his head to swipe at your entrance. “You owe me that fucking keycard.” He delicately kisses your folds before his tongue darts out to circle your clit. “And I’ll get it from you one way or another.”

You can hear the rustle of his hand over the sheet. Not even a solid suck on your cunt, and he’s already going for the gun…

“Oh, come on,” you plead, ignoring his threat. “Finish your meal, champ. I know you can do it.”

His eyes narrow, peeking past your mound as he growls, gripping your thighs hard enough for you to collapse forward.

Sloppy. The best word to describe Lloyd eating pussy is sloppy. He contributes as much as you do to the glide of his whole face over every intimate inch of skin. Because you’re sitting with weight mostly on him—some of it still rests on your knees—each movement pushes his nose, lips, tongue, and stache around with enough fervor to polish your raw nerves.

Honestly, it’s a shame he ruins the moment by slipping his hand under the pillow and pressing the silencer's muzzle to your side.

Petulance dialed to maximum, you whimper, “you said I could come first!”

Your hand falls below your navel, clutching the lace like he’s already wounded you, and Lloyd proceeds to laugh right into your cunt.

He doesn’t have time to form a comeback once you peel the sheer, protective layer away from the patch of fabric a mere inch above the opening of the bodysuit. If he’d have paid any proper attention to you, he’d’ve found it, but he didn’t.

The fumes of chloroform-drenched cobalt engulf Lloyd in the suffocating proximity of the bed and your body. He has nowhere to go but under.

The gun falls away once his limbs go lax.

You sit directly on his chest for the few seconds it takes to realign the inner and outer barriers of your dainty, chemical warfare, then you shimmy off of him.

He actually looks quite peaceful this way.

His features are carefree, his broad, smooth chest rises and falls steadily, and his…

Well.

Lloyd’s dick lays erect and proud on his stomach, unfazed by unconsciousness. It’d be an even greater shame to waste that.

“It’s ok, peanut,” you whisper out of habit now, forced to imagine the twitch of his lip, the pop of the vein in his neck. “This is your chance to make it up to me.”

It’s not difficult to take him into your still-sopping core, and once you angle yourself to grind on the cut of his abs, all Lloyd’s previous buildup rushes back. His ass may be the star of the show, but his dick is no fluffer act. He’s packing enough to nudge at that perfect spot relentlessly as you ride him, and you openly mewl as you approach the height of your orgasm.

You imagine he’d say you sound so pretty and pathetic.

He’d probably ask if this is the best you can do, but that makes you fuck him harder until you crash into a wall of pleasure, sweaty, exhausted, resting against that broad chest.

You catch your breath after a short while, skin humming with excitement. Absently, your hands paw at his sides for a tiny bit of comfort.

That thought gets buried in a tense heartbeat, and you climb off the bed, pleased to notice the sheer amount of cum and his softening dick means he finished, too.

You’ll leave that as a souvenir.

The plan was to carve a little message on him—nothing that would permanently scar—but you can’t bring yourself to mar such a glorious ass. That would be akin to treason. Seriously, if he had simply walked around you in a bathing suit with that thing, you would have slipped the keycard into his waistband and thanked him for his service to your wet dreams.

A bit of dried cum smeared all over his pelvis and dripping down his balls, his useless pistol still in-hand, will do fine as a statement.

You clean yourself up, snatching your real clothes from the closet where you hung them tidily beside his own, and give a gentle grip to his immobile knee where it hangs off the bed.

“Sweet dreams, bunny boy. Maybe I'll let you win next time.”

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

This work was written for the amazing and inspirational Cum Together Extravaganza hosted by @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420, but a special thanks to @buckymorelikefuckme for the earworm that would not quit. Poppy, you dark enabler you... I fucking love you!

Prompts: "Bet I can make you cum first." || Somnophilia || enemies-to-lovers || Characters A + B cum together at the same time

dividers by @/saradika-graphics (blue art deco) and @/cafekitsune

#CT 2024 raffle entry #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen smut #dark fic #dark!lloyd hansen #or is this soft?#i can't even tell anymore 😣#ct 2024 #engagement challenge

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queen-haq · 2 days

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Fic: Never You, Part 8 (Polin fic)

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 released scenes.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Masterlist (contains links to previous parts and my other stories)

A03 link if that's more your jam

With her heart and mind in complete shambles the next day, the last place Penelope wanted to be at was the Bridgerton Manor. But there she was, cushioned between Lady Violet and her own mother for afternoon tea. As if things weren’t difficult enough, the Cowpers were also in attendance, which meant she was forced to watch Eloise and Cressida act like the best of friends. Occasionally Eloise would glance at her from the other side of the room, as if to gauge her reaction. The optimistic part of Penelope hoped it was because her former friend still cared, but the cynic in her knew otherwise. Eloise wanted to make it crystal clear that Penelope was alone now. Without Eloise, without the Bridgertons, she was an outsider. And who better to emphasize that point with than Cressida Cowper herself. The tall blonde had bullied Penelope since they were little girls, and now Eloise had joined forces with Satan herself. As if on cue, Cressida cast her a disparaging glance, whispering something in Eloise’s ears before both women exchanged a spiteful smile.

It was one thing to have Eloise be angry at her, that Penelope understood and could live with, but to see Eloise and Cressida’s blossoming friendship felt like an arrow through the heart. And it hurt, it hurt so much.

The night of the ball Penelope would’ve done anything to reconcile with Eloise, but since then she came to realize a lot of hard truths. The ton, Eloise, Colin – they only accepted her as long as she followed their rules. A woman like her, shy and large, not borne into wealth or beauty wasn’t allowed to want things. She had to remain voiceless, live in the shadow of others, not expect to be loved or cherished. The moment she refused to play the part of an insipid wallflower she was punished. And that was fine, she would live with the consequences of the choices she made. But what she wouldn’t do was reveal her pain for anyone’s enjoyment. So Eloise could be as snide as she wanted, she and Cressida could humiliate her to their heart’s content but they would never conquer her publicly.

“Penelope, you looked lovely at the VanGuard soiree.”

Breaking out of her reverie, Penelope smiled at Lady Violet. “Thank you.”

“The various shades of green have been a surprise,” Portia chimed in, sipping her tea. “I wasn’t with Penelope the day she went to the modiste and Miss Delacroix certainly took advantage of that. Probably talked my foolish child into buying all the unused fabrics she couldn’t sell to others.”

“I doubt Miss Delacroix has to resort to trickery to sell her clothes,” Penelope replied.

“She is very much in demand as a dressmaker,” Lady Violet added.

“Hmph…” was her mama’s response. “I suppose it could have been much worse. At least the green doesn’t wash out her complexion too much.”

Violet responded with a stiff smile. “I thought it suited her quite well.” She turned to Penelope. “We’ve missed having you here for tea.”

Penelope merely smiled.

“I suppose my Cressida has kept Eloise so busy these past few weeks she hasn’t had time for… others.” Penelope had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at Lady Cowper. The apple certainly didn’t fall far from the condescending tree.

“I’m sure that will be rectified soon,” Lady Violet replied, a hopeful tilt to her voice.

Penelope didn’t have the heart to tell her things had irrevocably changed. Eloise refused to understand her motivations, and Penelope wasn’t willing to fall on her sword to make things right between them.

“Mother, Cressida and I are going to take a stroll in the gardens,” Eloise announced, linking her arms through Cressida's as they both headed out of the room.

Lady Violet’s warm eyes gleamed with compassion as she directed her attention back to Penelope. “Would you like to join them?”

That was the last thing she wanted. “Is it alright if I visit the library?”

“Yes, of course.”

The stern look on Portia’s face indicated she wasn’t happy about Penelope spending time in the stuffy Bridgerton library but Penelope didn’t care. It was a room she loved, filled with many warm, comforting memories of happier times.

Excusing herself, she walked away from the prying eyes of the mothers, desperate for a moment alone. Her stomach was still tied in knots, her head pounding. She had stayed awake most of the night in Colin’s arms, inhaling him in and etching everything about him to her memory. At the same time her guilty conscience had warred with her heart, reminding her of the horrible mistake she was making. It was only when fatigue took over that she managed to get some sleep. By the time she woke up Colin had already left, and she had spent the morning agonizing over what to tell Arthur.

Penelope quietly walked to the library, grateful it was in the opposite wing from where the bedchambers were. The last thing she needed was to run into Colin; after last night, she was too embarrassed to face him.

Stepping inside the library, she shut the door behind. She closed her eyes. Breathed in the air, the smell of books infusing her senses. Sunlight peeked in through the windows, casting shadows across the room. As children she and Eloise had spent countless hours playing hide and seek between the shelves. This room had also been a haven when Mama and Papa fought, or those days Mama had been especially harsh about her eating habits. Penelope would sneak away and make her way into the Bridgerton library through the gardens and the back door, desperate for a quiet place to simply be.

She crossed the room, walking to the window which overlooked the south section of the garden. Staring out, she caught a glimpse of Cressida and Eloise walking together, engaged in deep conversation. It was Cressida’s facial expression that caught her attention. The blonde, usually so smarmy and full of herself, seemed almost shy next to Eloise, even vulnerable. Apparently they were friends.

Taking a deep breath, she walked further into the room, behind the shelves, to the hidden alcove.

Her heart was heavy, her mind still fraught with guilt. She had spent the morning writing and rewriting to Arthur, debating on how much to tell him. In the end, she decided to keep it short.

I made a mistake. One I’m not sure you can forgive me for. It’s best if we speak in person.

Tears welled in her eyes, her throat tightened with emotion.

As hurtful as Colin’s words had been about not courting her, at least they finally revealed what his true thoughts were. He didn’t love her, nor would he ever, and no amount of wishing would make it so. And ultimately, his honesty had been a gift because it allowed her to get through the pain and open her mind to pursue someone new. She hadn’t gone looking for Arthur, but when he’d come into her life she hadn’t closed herself off either. She may not have loved him madly like Colin but she held deep affection for him. There was also mutual respect between them and friendship. He understood what writing meant to her and pledged his full support, and that was a rare quality amongst men in their society. She had so much to look forward to and it was all gone now, completely eviscerated because of her own foolishness.

Tears fell down her cheeks while she pondered the bleak future ahead of her. Without any marriage prospects, she was doomed to be a spinster. Unlike Eloise, she wanted a husband and children, a contented marriage, a home where she would finally belong. As a spinster, however, she would most likely spend the rest of her life with Portia and be the sole recipient of her mother’s criticisms. Oh God. No, no, no, just the thought of that made her panic. Heart pounding, she clutched her chest, utterly dejected about her broken dreams.

“Pen? What’s wrong?”

She turned around to find Colin standing a few feet away. She swiped the tears from her face, quickly composing herself. “Nothing, I just have some dirt in my eyes.” While he crossed the room in only a few strides, she gave him a cursory smile. Seeing the concern on his face, she quickly averted her eyes away from him. “I need to return to the sitting room. Mama must be waiting for me.”

“You’ve been crying.” There was fear in his voice when he spoke. “What’s wrong?

She shook her head. “I’m fine-”

“I know I haven’t been a good friend to you recently. I wasn’t there when your father passed, I’ve been callous with your feelings – but please, Pen, give me a chance to help you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Despite using all her resolve to hold it together, she started to shake. The lump in her throat made it impossible to speak. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her tears in check. She couldn’t bear for him to see her when she was feeling so low and pathetic.

All of a sudden his arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in a warm, comforting hug. “It’s alright. You don’t need to tell me, you don’t fully trust me yet. But please let me hold you for a while?”

It may have been posed as a question, yet his tight embrace indicated he wouldn’t let go even if she refused. And she tried, she tried to hold onto her pride and fight him off, but he was stronger and more resolute and eventually she gave in. The solace he offered made her crumble and she buried her face in his chest, crying silently in his arms.

For the longest while he simply hugged her, murmuring tender words, dropping light kisses on the crown of her head. He felt so strong yet gentle, offering his support, and her heart yearned for him. If only he could love her, want her for who she truly was. She let herself indulge in that fantasy for a few minutes, pondering life with him as his wife, being family with the Bridgertons, even having Eloise back as her best friend. She could continue to write, and they would be supportive without judging her. Her life would be perfect, she would never need for anything again.

Time held no meaning. All she felt was the warmth of his touch, his scent blanketing her senses, making her feel safe and secure in his grasp. Nestled in his arms, she listened to his heartbeat. Strong, slow, steady. Whereas her heart was pounding rapidly, like it always did when she was around him. A stark reminder of how much she was affected by him, whilst he wasn’t at all by her.

And that was enough for her mind to stop dwelling in the fantasy of Colin. There was never any possibility of a future with him. And she was absurd for letting herself daydream about it.

The tears stopped. A calm logic fell over her.

She took a deep breath.

Her foolish heart may have cost her a future with Arthur but that didn’t mean she was out of options.

She had amassed a small fortune already. And with any luck, the investments she made would continue to grow in value. While nothing would change her status as a spinster, that didn’t mean she had to live with Mama for the rest of her life. She could leave and build a life elsewhere, without her mother’s approval. In secret if she had to.

It wouldn’t be easy, but not impossible. After all, she had built Lady Whistledown from nothing. And now her nom de plume was one of the most influential names in the ton. She was Penelope Featherington and she could do anything she set her mind to.

“Who made you cry, Penelope?”

His words instantly brought her back to reality, and she was reminded of how desperately she was clinging to him. Immediately she dropped her arms, intending to step back but he didn’t release his grip on her. Instead, he tucked his finger under her chin and nudged her head up to meet his gaze.

It was then she noticed the dark storm brewing in his gaze. There was anger in his eyes, on his face, his jaw clenched. The Colin she grew up with was cheery and affable, equally popular amongst ladies and gentlemen of the ton because of his friendly nature. But he wasn’t the same man staring back at her now, seething with rage, a strange viciousness vibrating off of him.

“No one gets to hurt you, Penelope.”

He wasn’t loud or boisterous with his threat, instead his tone was quiet which made his words even more dangerous. Because he wasn’t putting on an act. He meant every word.

His thumb swiped the tear stains from her cheeks, first left, then right, before trailing down to her lips. His breathing grew more shallow with every second, and his eyes held her transfixed, making it impossible for her to look away from him. She was his prisoner, body and soul.

“Tell me who it was.”

She swallowed audibly. “Why do you care?”

“Because you're everything to me.” His arms encircled her back, pulling her against him. “And I will destroy the fucking world before I let someone hurt you again."

There was no time to argue, to think. A palpable force compelled them together, as real as the air they breathed. His lips closed over hers, kissing her possessively, and she kissed him back with equal fervor, desperate to touch him. The pull between them was too much, yet not enough. His hands all over her body, pulling at her dress, hers frantically removing his waistcoat and shirt because she wanted – no, needed – to feel his bare skin on hers again. They were spiraling towards full madness. Nothing else mattered except his mouth dragging down her neck, trailing a path of heated kisses. On his knees now, she clutched his hair as his mouth sought out her breasts. The friction from his mouth laving her hardened nipple over the fabric of her dress was electric. She couldn’t take it, rolling her head back at the sheer intensity of it.

"Colin! What are you doing?”

Penelope's eyes flew open.

Standing on the other side of the room was Eloise, watching them with complete horror on her face.

#polin #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #never you #my fics

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purplehalnw · 2 days

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So, a few weeks ago I finished watching the Chibnall Era, aka the 13th Doctor's seasons, of Doctor Who. And while it was not as bad as I heard some people say it was, it was definitely not good. The main problem is that it's just kind of boring, like the characters are so underwritten that it's insane. So, I came up with some ideas (a lot of which are mostly rambling) to flesh these people out some more most of which are based on factors that the show alluded to but failed to expand upon and use for actual characterization and development. Now please remember, I am most certainly not an expert in any type of writing, I am just a teenager with a dream.

Graham:

-Have his wife Grace be around for more than one episode before dying. Have her around for at least half a season travelling with the Doctor and have her death result in the Doctor feeling guilty for putting her in danger and not being able to save her. Have Ryan be angry at the Doctor because of Grace's death while having Graham be understanding and not blame the Doctor. But then have Graham reassure Ryan that they all were aware of the risks that would come with travelling with the Doctor and that Grace died doing what she loved which was helping people.

-Have his cancer come back and have him die from it. I think it would be interesting for a companion to die from something more normal when other ones have died in the most devastating ways possible. Also, this kind of death would extend over multiple episodes which would show the characters developing reactions to the fact that Graham is going to die. You could also have something with the Doctor trying to make sure that Graham has lived a full life before he dies and trying to take him on as many adventures as possible due to the fact that the other companions who died were so young. But, have Graham tell the Doctor that he is content with the mostly quiet life he has lived and that he has accepted the fact that he is going to die because at least he'll be going to the same place where Grace is.

Ryan:

-Have Ryan feel kinda inclined to mend the relationship with his dad because he is the only blood relative he has left since Grace died. But don't have him reconcile with his father at the end. This'll instead be the moment Ryan accepts Graham as a father figure and calls Graham his grandfather. This plus his relationship with Yaz and the Doctor will emphasize the idea of a found family.

-Have his dyspraxia be touched upon more than just with throwaway lines about how he can't ride a bike and struggles with climbing ladders. Show him possibly being underestimated by some other characters maybe Graham and show the frustration that would come with that. Also, have the Doctor relate to him because of her neurodivergence which would strengthen their bond.

-Show flashbacks of how Yaz and Ryan were friends when they were in school. Maybe show how they both felt like outcasts, with Ryan feeling that way due to his dyspraxia and Yaz feeling that way due to her struggles with her sexuality and that being the reason why they became friends.

-Make Ryan's YouTube channel a greater part of his character instead of something that never gets brought up again after his first episode. Have him constantly record his adventures with the Doctor and upload them to YouTube to honor Grace in a way. Also, when Graham dies of cancer, have Ryan upload a video summarizing all of the amazing things he did with Graham which would be a great callback to what he did when Grace died.

Yaz:

-Don't have her sexuality be something that only gets barely acknowledged in the last few episodes.

-Maybe Yaz and Ryan dated while they were in school but they broke up because of Yaz's lack of feelings towards him due to her sexuality and that's why they grew apart. Also, Ryan should be the one to confront Yaz about her feelings towards the Doctor.

-They sort of implied that Yaz has some internalized homophobia. So, expand on that! They had Jack there for a minute, they could've used his bisexuality and feelings towards the Doctor or just the Doctor's nonchalantness towards gender as a way for Yaz to accept herself more. Like a big thing with Doctor Who companions is the Doctor showing them things they didn't even think were possible, the same would be true for Yaz but in a different way.

-So, Yaz is a cop. They kind of touched on the issues surrounding this in Rosa but they quickly brushed it off and it was never brought up again, and her job in general barely even plays much of a role, like she literally just quits off screen near the end. Obviously, you could make her being a cop a source of ongoing conflict because I know that the Doctor would be ACAB. The Doctor could challenge Yaz's beliefs regarding the police system, similar to how she challenged Yaz's ideas regarding gender and sexuality.

The Doctor:

-On paper I'm not really against the Timeless Child or the Flux but please just give them more time.

-Show us some lore regarding who the Doctor thought was her biological family so that we can understand how she's feeling more.

-Give more time to her confronting Tecteun. Literally, I was so excited seeing the Doctor argue with her about whether it was right for Tecteun to take her in but it only lasts for like five fucking minutes.

-Also, they used the Timeless Child as a way to sort of explain the Doctor's autistic behavior. In fact, the writers even said they intentionally wrote her as autistic and there are several scenes where they emphasize how socially awkward she is. Okay then why not have some allegories for neurodivergence? Why not equate the whole Timeless Child thing to getting an autism diagnosis? Why not use the Doctor as a way to show how autistic men are treated differently than autistic women with her being eccentricities being met with more hostility than when she was a man? Or why not just have one of the companions, maybe Ryan, explicitly acknowledge how the way she acts aligns with autism?

-Oh and that thing they had about the Doctor refusing to form strong relationships because they know that they'll likely end tragically? Yeah maybe spend more than three goddamn episodes barely acknowledging that. Like I wouldn't mind the story 13th Doctor and her companions ending tragically with her pushing them away and leaving them on Earth long enough that they've gone back to their normal lives and have realized that there's nothing they can do except hope that the Doctor is able to sort out her shit on her own.

-Oh and also don't confine the Flux to just six episodes. Like at least hint to that shit around the same time as the Timeless Child.

Also, I don't think all of the companions should be travelling with the Doctor every episode. Like a few episodes sprinkled in there where the others are staying at home and only like one or two of the companions are travelling with the Doctor this time. This way you can have episodes hyper focused on certain characters without worrying about giving the others something to do.

I have considered doing a rewrite of these seasons or something but again I'm not an expert writer. The only fic I've ever written is a 2,000 word character study and that one took me a long time to write because of how much a perfectionist I am.

#doctor who #the doctor #thirteenth doctor #13th doctor #dw #yazmin khan #yaz khan #ryan sinclair #graham o'brien #grace o'brien #chris chibnall #the timeless child #the flux #flux #timeless child #rewrite #doctor who flux

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cipher-animations-blog · 2 days

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I have so many thoughts about Working Boys oh my god. I’ve now rewatched it twice.

Spoilers after the cut if I did this right.

Alright, so Hidgens was very close with all of the Working Boys. But I just keep thinking about the emphasis on Chad. For the rest of the guys, including Hidgens himself, the names got changed with the gender swap. Stu became Sue, Leighton to Leia, Steve to Eve, Henry to Henrietta. But Chad doesn’t change. Chad stays the same even though it doesn’t really fit. And the potential of Chad seeing the show is what sends Hidgens completely off the deep end. He can’t handle even the thought of Chad seeing the show like this. Even when listing everyone’s names in the title song, Chad is always the one emphasized. Both in TGWDLM and here. And I’m just wondering why? What kind of relationship did these two have that caused Hidgens to hold him in a such higher regard than even the rest of his boys? Who is Chad to Hidgens? Because it feels like there’s something deeper to this.

Now am I just overthinking what started as a throwaway joke? Yes. But hey, that’s what we always do in this fandom.

Also unrelated to that but the thought of the aftermath of Working Boys is also really interesting to me. Mainly for characters like Grace and Richie. Grace got that taste of murder, but would it lead to a similar path she went down at the end of Nerdy Prudes? It’s hard to say but that’s pretty likely knowing what she’s like. And what about Richie? How does he go on with his life after watching his best friend get dismembered? His last memory of her being one of her most embarrassing moments? Can he move on from that?

This post doesn’t really have a point I just have a lot of thoughts. And thats not even going into the death match today. Specifically Ted winning Wiggly’s Crown. Oh the potential with that is strong.

#starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse

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coolbeans32 · 2 days

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Echoes of Destiny: The Serpent and the Phoenix

PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader(OC)

SYNOPSIS: Harry, Ron, and Hermione are unexpectedly drawn into a mysterious journey when they receive Albus Dumbledore's last will and testament. Minister Rufus Scrimgeour presents them with significant bequests, including a scrapbook holding the secrets of Dumbledore's past. Through poignant confessions, they learn of Dumbledore's secret marriage to Gellert Grindelwald and the tragic fate of their daughter. Delving into the scrapbook, they uncover a surprising connection between Dumbledore's daughter and Tom Riddle. Dumbledore's final message reveals that his daughter, Genevieve Ariana Dumbledore-Grindelwald, is alive, propelling the trio into a quest to find her and untangle the mysteries of Dumbledore's past. As they embark on this journey, they realize the profound interconnection of their destinies with those of their predecessors, emphasizing the enduring power of love and loss even in the darkest of times.

WARNINGS: This passage contains elements of death, grief, and loss. Specifically, it mentions the tragic death of Dumbledore's daughter, as well as themes of war and the impact of past actions on loved ones.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

Previous Part| Next Part

Chapter One

The Scrapbook

“To what do we owe the pleasure Minister?” Harry asks.

“I think we both know the answer to that question, Mr. Potter.” His voice is deep and sure as he speaks. Rufus Scrimgeour leads them to the living room and Harry, Hermione, and Ron sit down in front of him as he lays down a cloth wrap.

“And this is?...”Harry states with a confused look on his face. The Minister then pulls out a piece of paper before making it float in front of him so he can read it.

"Herein is said forth the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. First, to Ronald Billius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator. A device of my own making. In hope when things seem most dark it will show you the light."

"Dumbledore left this for me?" Ron says taking the small black item out of its cover.

"Yes," the Minister says. Ron looks at it in wonder.

"Really. What is it?" He asks and clicks it open. It takes the lights and when clicked back open it puts them back. "Super."

"To Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard in the hope that she finds it entertaining and instructive," He says handing her a book. She looks at it confused.

"Mom used to tell me those. The wizard and the hopping pot, Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump Come on. Babbity Rabbity... No?" Ron says as we all look at him confused.

"To Harry James Potter, I leave the snitch he caught in his first match at Hogwarts. As a reminder of rewards of perseverance and skill," He says and holds out the golden snitch. Harry looks a bit defeated as does the Minister.

"Is that it then?" Harry asks and the Minister shakes his head.

"Not quite. Dumbledore left you a second bequest: The sword of Godric Gryffindor. Unfortunately the sword of Gryffindor was not Dumbledore's to give away. As an important historical artifact it belongs.." He says.

"...to Harry. It belongs to Harry. It came to him when he most needed it in the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione cuts him up. The minister shakes his head.

"The sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor, Miss Granger but that does not make it that wizard's property," He says. "Unfortunately the current whereabouts of the sword are unknown."

"Excuse me?" Harry says. We both look at each other and he looks worried.

"The Sword is Missing. I don't know what you are up to, Mr. Potter but you can't fight this war on your own. He is too strong," The Minister says. Harry, Hermione, and Ron give each other a glance as the Minister stands up.

“One last thing is left. To Harry James Potter, Hermione Jean Granger and Ronald Billius Weasley, I leave this scrapbook, an artifact very dear to my heart, in hopes to give you an insight of not only my life but to help you with your next steps necessary towards victory.” Hermione moves forward to grab the elegant scrapbook, looking more like an album, with its intricate black cover and dark emerald green ribbon on the front. The three of them looked really confused. With that, the Minister left, not before saying,

“Best of luck Mr. Potter, you will need it.”

The trio, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, sit in a circle around the living room, still puzzled by the words of Dumbledore, the Minister, and the scrapbook they had received. Hermione carefully inspects the runes on the cover, her brow furrowed in concentration. She noticed that as she tried to open the book, there was a presence of magic around it. With a flick of her wand and a whispered incantation that effortlessly flowed from her mind, the invisible lock clicks open the book. The three all glance at each other with curiosity. They eagerly flip through the pages, revealing the surprising images within.

Harry peers over Hermione's shoulder, “What do you see, Hermione?”

Hermione gasps softly, “ It's... it's a baby. But... wait, something's changing.”

Ron interrupts, “Changing? What do you mean by changing?”Hermione turns the page, and they watch as the baby's features morph into those of a young girl. “She's... she's growing older right before our eyes.”

Ron exclaims, “That's... that's incredible!”

They continue to flip through the pages, each image revealing a different moment in time. Suddenly, they come across a picture of a much younger Albus Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with mischief.Harry says, “That’s Dumbledore…”

Hermione turns the page again, and they see a young Gellert Grindelwald standing beside Dumbledore, their faces alight with excitement, and happiness. “It's them... when they were friends…no, wait…Do you think they were more than just friends?”

Ron replies with furrowed eyebrows, “There’s no bloody way that they could’ve been together Mione. It’s a bit hard to believe, I mean, Grindelwald was an evil wizard.” The trio falls silent as they continue to explore the scrapbook, each lost in their own thoughts, revealing images of the girl with both Albus and Gellert. Then, Hermione gasps once more, her eyes widening in surprise, as she changes the page once more.

“Look at this!” Hermione exclaims to Harry and Ron. Harry and Ron lean in to see what has caught Hermione's attention. They see the teenage girl, dressed in Slytherin robes, dancing with a young Tom Riddle.

Harry says flabbergasted and angrily, “Tom Riddle? What's he doing here?”

Hermione replies, also in an extremely surprised state, still trying to process what was in front of her, “I'm not sure, but... it looks like they're... dancing?

Ron says, “Well…quite the surprise there huh?”

Harry replies coldly, “Yeah, to say the least.” They exchange puzzled glances before turning their attention back to the scrapbook, eager to uncover more secrets hidden within its pages.

Hermione turned a couple of more pages, each with more images of the lovely young couple, until writing appeared over the next blank page. The words that appeared in front of the trio were of Dumbledore. The three read his note:

I see you have received the scrapbook I left for you. The contents of this book have much you need to know about my past, my secrets, the loves and losses that shaped my life. I was not always the wise old wizard you see before you. There was a time when I was young, foolish, and in love. I was in love with Gellert Grindelwald. He was many things. He was also brilliant, charismatic, and enchanting. We shared a bond that transcended mere friendship. We even married in secret, during a time of great turmoil. But our love was not to last. We had a child conceived by a surrogate, and bore a daughter. She was our greatest joy and our deepest sorrow. She bore the weight of our mistakes and our regrets. She was a Slytherin. She was brilliant, ambitious, and fiercely loyal. But she was also troubled, haunted by the shadows of our past. It wasn’t until she fell in love with Tom Riddle, the boy who would become Voldemort, that she found her way to regain a part of her that was lost because of me and Gellert. Their romance was nothing that I would have anticipated. I couldn’t bear to see her with a boy as troubled as her, but they prevailed. I thought he would corrupt her. She died on May 13, 1943. A casualty of a war she never chose to fight. A victim of a destiny she could not escape. A casualty by my own hand. I have learned that love is both a gift and a burden. It has the power to lift us up to the highest heights and drag us down to the darkest depths. But in the end, it is what defines us, what binds us together, even in death.

Silence descends upon the room, broken only by the soft rustle of pages as the trio processes Dumbledore's revelations, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione to grapple with the weight of his confessions.

Ron spoke first, trying to relieve the tension, “Well, uhm…who would’ve thought that Dumbledore’s daughter would be the one to make Riddle’s heart go soft?”

Hermione whacked his arm with a paper repeatedly and yelled, “Oh Ronald Weasley! This is not the time for your stupid jokes, this is serious.”

Ron replied, trying to dodge her blows, “Bloody hell woman, that hurts!”

Harry pondered on his thoughts as Hermione and Ron were arguing. There was no way that Tom Riddle could ever love someone, there was just no way. It was truly hard for Harry to believe that the Tom Riddle-Lord Voldemort-himself was ever in love, or had a heart. Harry spoke up and exclaimed exasperatedly, “I still don’t get it. How is any of this supposed to help us? I mean even if Riddle loved Dumbledore’s daughter, she’s dead. This was just a waste.”

Just as Harry had finished his sentence, the note disappeared, and more writing came up. Hermione moved towards the book and read the writing out loud:

My daughter, while she supposedly died…I have to mention that nothing is as true as it seems. I had to protect her, or so I thought. My actions, while they may seem extreme, were important to me years ago. Now that I realize that I may have been wrong…In fact…I had taken all necessary precautions…She is…alive. The images within this scrapbook are all clues that will help you find her. They all have meaning and are small parts to the larger puzzle. I had to make sure that this scrapbook was in the right hands. Best of luck Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Granger…I will leave you with your first direct clue…her name is…Genevieve Ariana Dumbledore-Grindelwald.

Tom Riddle Masterlist

#harry potter #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #slytherin #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle fanfiction

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myapothecarydiary · 14 hours

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Thoughts from reading The Apothecary Diaries Manga Ch. 1

Okay, I just first have to say I adore these little Maomao illustrations at the beginning of each volume. The art style is so cute!

And we get straight to it: the comparison of the pleasure district to the rear/inner palace. The similarities go to show how Maomao is in a position to successfully navigate and understand the rear palace due to her upbringing in the pleasure district. Her background gives her a unique, and in this case, advantageous perspective.

This introduction discussing eunuchs and the emperor's family is very hello! regarding Jinshi's real identity. I think it also introduces Apothecary's conversation on gender, specifically Maomao's perspective regarding it. She considers eunuchs to no longer be true men and to exist beyond the gender binary. She values frogs as a defining characteristic, if you will.

This here introduces Maomao's relationship with her own appearance and beauty. We later learn she draws her freckles on and so is trying to subdue her natural beauty, but she is also pragmatic about her appearance. She accepts what she looks like and utilizes her unassuming qualities, even accentuating them, but though she adds she's "not interested or anything" in becoming a concubine, I think there is some supressed disappointment in her looks. She can't fathom that someone like the Emperor would find her attractive. She is not just pragmatic but resigned.

There's a greater conversation to be had about how Maomao values beauty and recognizes how beauty gives someone value (within the environments of the rear palace and the pleasure district as well as within her own mind?). I'm going to put a pin in it for now, but I have thoughts on how Maomao views Jinshi's beauty (a waste on a man, disastrously powerful on a woman, extra wasteful on a man sans frog?) + the benefit of certain assets (big boobs XD)

Hello, future plot line and Jinshi's desire to increase literacy and education!

I find this important to note as it is how Maomao is characterized for the audience. "Forward-thinking" with "an insatiable thirst for knowledge and overwhelming curiosity" and "a budding sense of justice." It is interesting how her sense of justice goes against her insistence on the idea of "it is what it is" and that most matters are above her.

Feels like ominous foreshadowing for a later reveal + an indication of how the previous Emperor's shadow hangs over everything to some extent. (Side thought: there's no actual curse on the imperial family causing the current Emperor's heirs to die, but perhaps Jinshi would feel like there is one)

Introduction of Maomao's favorite concept/word–conjecture! She emphasizes how her dad drilled into her that she shouldn't go off of conjecture alone, yet she often engages in speculation to the point of it kind of being her "thing."

A fateful meeting. Jinshi notices Maomao but she doesn't see him (and is too busy thinking/working out a problem in her head–very on the nose for their relationship going forward).

I also like how this was drawn with the white outline around the both of them! I think it is more apparent around Jinshi, but it does envelop them both and put them together, which is interesting.

Maomao sees Jinshi for the first time. And going back to my prior pin on beauty! – Maomao's perception of Jinshi is tied to her thinking about the concept of him as a woman. There's almost a disappointment in how his beauty is not possessed by a woman.

This is very indicative of Maomao's actions. A large part of her character involves not only figuring things out and possessing/acquiring information, but obscuring things/holding things back (in regards to both what she figures out and how she presents herself). This also speaks to how Maomao even suppresses certain feelings and realizations in her own mind.

I feel like there is an instinct to write Maomao off as a cold loner type, and while part of this moment involves Maomao's relief at seeing the princess alive and healthy, I think (especially with how it is depicted) it shows a warmth for life and children. Maomao cares! You see this sweeter/softer (and protective) side of her in her interactions with Xiaolan as well.

Maomao is all about that social hierarchy and knowing her place. Beauty and status are perhaps lenses through which she sees the world (interesting that a certain character will land at the highest level of both of those XD)

My confession is that before I watched the anime and was just seeing people post about Jinshi as a sort of "silly little guy", I made assumptions about his intelligence and depth. I was very pleasantly surprised by the scene where he deduces Maomao left the note because she is the only one who can read. It even catches Maomao by surprise! Then again here, his ability to solve the sorts of little mysteries that will essentially become Maomao's main purpose goes to show their compatibility as a pair (that will work well together).

This moment and quote just hits me hard every time. Beauty and life, how they interact, and the value of both will continue to be explored. It also directly shows how Maomao's experience of the pleasure district informs her ability to understand and navigate the rear palace.

And that's all for chapter 1! Onto the next.

#kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #kusuriya no hitorigoto manga #the apothecary diaries manga #analysis #thoughts #maomao #jinshi #jinmao #jinshi x maomao #tad manga #manga #annotations #chapter 1 #tad manga chapter 1

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