#so while the argument is valid and people can like what they like am yet to see evidence of Loki being evil

[ch0wen]

Well, since you asked... I'd like to know how are you?? Also... some fluffy sexy time Tangerine x reader after reader had a partcularly bad day? Only if you want!

Hiya! Sorry for the delay but I am doing so so well! I truly appreciate everyone's feedback and interactions with my fics. It just feels so nice logging in every day and seeing that people simply are reading my stories. I also am so happy you reached out with this request. I hope I created something you like 🤗

Tangerine x Reader warnings: 18+ (minors dni) & oral m receiving

“T?”

Your arms are pulling off your coat before the front door could swing fully closed. A pause to check out your features in the hallway mirror, while you hung your snow-spattered coat onto the hook. Your frowning lips form into a pout.

Dark under eyes contrast with your pale skin. The texture of your hands feels dry from the frigid weather, and your bones are achy from overexertion. Also, your hair could do for a brushing. You look exhausted. It doesn’t help that for the past two days you’ve been called in to work on your arranged time off. But how could you say no? Your boss needed the extra help. It also means more money coming in. And you’re a people pleaser. Those are all valid reasons as to why you’ve come home looking like absolute shit today.

“I’m in the den!”

With his name just on the tip of your tongue; Tangerine is calling back from deeper within the apartment. You run your fingers through your hair to subdue some flyaways before following the sound of his voice.

Tangerine glances over the book he’s holding to greet you with a warm smile. It feels as if your body sags heavier with a wave of relief washing through you. He brings you so much comfort without saying a word. Being in his presence is enough to relax a racing mind or post-work funk.

He’s sat in his softest pair of black sweatpants and a simple white T-shirt. Tangerine is known to be a classy man with a great fashion sense. Hell, he dresses up in three-piece pinstripe suits just for his hits with Lemon. Yet you would argue he always has looked his best in his pajamas, or naked. Because it means he’s home with you. With no looming threats, except for the faux argument over who has to wash the dishes after dinner. These are the moments of silence he gets to enjoy when the second he walks out of the building for work the tensions rise. You love that for him. You’re always the happiest knowing he gets times like these for himself, or when he wants to share them with you.

He leans in to close the space between you both to place a couple pecks to your lips. After, you throw yourself onto the couch cushions next to him. Your body squirms to lay on your side with your cheek propped on his lap.

“Tough day then, hm?”

Your groan into his sweatpants is enough of a confirmation for his question. His body rumbles with a chuckle at your antics and you feel a hand squeeze your shoulder.

“Tell me about it, baby. Maybe venting will help?”

“God, no. They’re all insufferable. I don’t want to spoil my mood even more.”

His hand trails up your neck and into your hair. He’s carding his fingers through as he probably goes back to reading his novel. You close your eyes and hum softly in appreciation of this soothing method. His hand smooths over your head. Running his fingers through your hair and squeezing a small fistful to try to be comforting. Which in turn, makes you instinctively whine a bit. He clearly gets entertained by that and repeats the pattern.

“Instead of me talking about my coworkers. I feel like I have a better idea with what I can do to occupy my mouth.”

You move your head slightly to get out of the path of your creeping hand; Gliding past his knee, over this thigh, only to rest to cup his bulge. You mimic his actions by giving him a soft squeeze. The sound of Tangerine abruptly closing his book almost muffled his weak moan. A smile spread across your face while propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

“Shouldn’t I be the one helping you relax?”

“This will," you reassure him.

It’s too late for all that back and forth now when his cock is betraying him by standing tall in his sweats. You could almost nestle your face into the tight fabric around his crotch, but you want to make him feel good not torture him with slow foreplay.

You push down his pants and boxers; bunching them up around his thighs. Moving them away from the target just enough for it to have the ability to spring free. You lick your lips before moving ever so slightly to repeat the action on his raging red tip. Little licks - once, twice, three times before you bob your head down teasingly. Moving back up to focus your ministrations on his head again.

Tangerine lulls his head back to the feeling of the sticky heat from your mouth tightly suckling on his swollen tip. Then, without warning, you're taking the entirety of him into your wet mouth. He lets out a grunting shout of pleasure.

It's hot, and he's perfectly happy to let you know how much he appreciates this with his hearty groans. His hand which was resting in your hair tightens into a fist. Not as gentle as before but not demanding either. Right now, he was using his grip to urge you down without pushing you too far past your limits. You found his touch soothing; grounding even. And although the act you're performing is sinful, there is a hint of tranquility in this whole situation.

Your act is bringing him comfort. Warmth spreads in your belly as you're reminded you're currently sharing some of those fleeting, precious moments with him. It's a bit cheesy to be thinking all this sappy shit with his cock in your mouth but it's a physical confirmation he's safe out of harm's way at home with you.

#ah ah ah I’m gonna stop there. I’m edging you guys #asks #request #tangerine smut #tangerine fic #tangerine and reader #tangerine x reader #gender neutral fic #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train 2022 #bullet train

[lionheartedmusings]

i saw a post earlier that q!tubbo is the only "moral" character even after purgatory and it's kinda kept me awake, not because i don't agree with the sentiment (i do) but because the idea of morality as intrinsically important in fandom / character analysis is fascinating to me, *especially* when we're talking about the morality of someone who's basically just spent two weeks in some eye guy's budget hunger games.

first off, while i fully agree that by the end of this q!tubbo *is* a character that tried at every turn to be kind and generous even to his own detriment, how does that make him more or less "moral" than q!phil or q!fit? he still killed, the same as them. he still strategized to beat his friends, has blood on his hands — why is he marked above x, y, or z in the moral scale?

well, one could argue that he did what he did for his team, for the eggs, and because he was forced to when he was put in the game in the first place, yeah? it's not his fault he's in this position, and he's doing his best to survive it. i personally think that's totally valid and justifiable, but it leaves a huge elephant in the room.

what about everyone else?

i'm going to use q!bad as an example because he's my main pov, and before i go into this analysis i want it known i'm very much playing the devil's advocate and illustrating a point — i am not saying his actions are "good". good? good.

okay. so, q!bad. here we have a non-human father who was told by his missing child to win regardless of the cost, or whomever he had to run over. he had to win. is it immoral then for him to take that to heart and play the game the way it was presented? is it immoral for him to kill for his child, or to be determined to win even in detriment of others? to want to use the same strategies in the battlefield that everyone else would, even if they're not kind or polite?

i don't fucking know, because morality isn't linear — this situation *isn't* linear bc if people will go on the record saying they would kill for their child and are praised for it, what makes q!bad's actions in the universe he's existing in any different?

you can even say that by some perspectives, q!tubbo extending so much kindness to his competitors over and over again was at times (or could've been) detrimental to his team ergo their childrens' lives and yet he still did it. is it more moral to save children or be nice to someone else?

my point being, i feel that the morality argument while very very interesting is kind of irrelevant bc when push comes to shove, characters aren't compelling bc they have more or less morals — i genuinely think a lot of media / character consumption has *actively* been harmed by everyone's need to have the thing they enjoy be "good" or "moral" or "right" bc if it isn't, what does that say about us?

the answer to that one is: absolutely nothing, but man do i think sometimes people in fandom feel guilty if they like or prefer an immoral or grey character vs a "stereotypical" moral one.

anyway, all this to say that i think by the end of purgatory, q!tubbo is the character that was most true to himself and his values from start to finish, and it's been a great watch. is he the most morally correct? eh. who the fuck knows.

#qsmp #long post #q!tubbo #q!bad #idk man morality in fandom is the most interesting thing to me #and this is coming from someone who has consistently been against the moral glorification of characters in media ESPECIALLY in survival #situations #now this is literally just a thought experiment on my end feel free to ignore #i am criticizing no one i'm just on my soapbox

[hard-core-super-star]

get her back! [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: you and hailee try to get your relationship back on track while shooting the sunkissing music video. it’s easier said than done though, especially since the line between love and hate blurs more and more every day.

warnings: still a chaotic mix of angst and fluff; stubborn idiots finally admit their feelings but keep arguing because it's easier than figuring out how to make things work; mentions of crappy PR stunts; R being lowkey petty + hailee being absolutely clueless why; some metaphors get repetitive but it's part of the plot, i promise

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: this is part two to one step forward, three steps back. slightly inspired by both get him back! and logical by olivia rodrigo because guts has taken over my life in the best of ways. thank you for all the love and the requests for a part two, i see you and i am eternally grateful to all of you. i love writing about these stubborn idiots and i can only hope you enjoy reading about them just as much <3

* * * * * * *

Working with Hailee and being in love with her are two very different things that should definitely not mix. Not just because it’s incredibly unprofessional but also because it’s way too easy to pretend like you’re mad at each other because of the work you’re doing and not the messy way you’re handling being back in each other’s lives.

It’s immature and stupid and somehow not surprising at all considering the way you two act around each other. You both know what you want and yet neither of you wants to be the first one to take that leap. Which just leaves you with moments like these. 

“You know what your problem is?” Hailee asks, her eyes narrowed and filled with a certain fire you can’t quite explain.

You’ve been on set for the SunKissing music video for about an hour and you’re both already at each other’s throats. The entire week has been filled with random arguments, borderline ridiculous complaints, and total radio silence on Hailee’s part about your relationship. Radio silence that should make working with her easier just like all the times before.

Instead, it’s just become the newest reason for you to push her away again. And okay, maybe you’re still pissed about the countless articles you’ve had to read about a supposed ‘love triangle’ because, for some reason, Hailee’s PR team insists on keeping the QB story running. Everyone knows it’s faker than the brunette’s heterosexuality and yet you’re still here.

Fighting for her attention like always.

You force yourself to push those thoughts away and focus back on the conversation at hand.

“You."

“No. You don’t know how to let yourself be happy.” It suddenly dawns on you that you’re not arguing about the music video choreography anymore. “You can take it out on me and on the job and on whatever else you want to make yourself feel better but don’t act like everything's always my fault. You’re the one who said you’d give me a chance and yet you’ve spent the entire week looking for reasons to push me away.”

She's right.

You both know that. 

Of course, she's right. Because at the very top of the list of reasons why Hailee Steinfeld is the most infuriating person you've ever met is the fact that she knows you. 

She understands you in ways you never thought anyone would. And it's just as terrifying as it is wonderful. 

It's exactly that mix of feelings that makes you react in the only way you know how. 

You lash out at her despite the voice in your head that tells you to suck it up and apologize before you take things too far. “So, if it’s not your fault then whose is it? I’m not the one ignoring your existence the second you leave or letting people write articles based on ridiculous lies.”

She groans, the sound so out-of-character for her it almost makes you forget about your complaints. Almost but not quite.

“Putting up with stupid rumors is part of the job, y/n. It’s nothing new so why does it bother you so much?”

The question is valid. Or at least it would be if you hadn’t made your feelings explicitly clear the day you agreed to help her with the music video. You’ve worked with her for years, most of which have been spent straddling the line between friendship and relationship, but this time was supposed to be different. 

In a way it was different. You couldn’t deny how you felt about Hailee anymore and you couldn’t act like it didn’t bother you how clueless she was still acting about it.

You swallow back your cutting remarks and instead mumble out the only thing you can think of. “You know why.”

She stares at you for a few seconds, her eyes seem to almost look through you as if she's trying to figure you out. You don’t know what she’s looking for since your feelings aren’t exactly a secret anymore. 

The silence lasts a second too long and you decide to walk away before you make things worse. It’s a move you learned from the brunette herself and one that’s driven you down this dead-end road you can’t seem to escape from.

For a second it seems like she’s going to let you go without a fight but then you feel her grip your wrist. Her hold on you is surprisingly soft like she’s wordlessly begging you to stay despite how much better it would be for both of you if you just walked away now.

Unfortunately for the logical part of your brain, you’re never able to say no to those stupidly soft hands and ridiculously warm eyes.

You turn around to face her again, trying to act like the close proximity isn’t making your mind swim with bad ideas. You’re definitely the worst actress out of the two of you but at least the brunette doesn’t comment on it.

“You’re a jerk,” you whisper, your voice lacking the usual bite it carries when you’re trying to piss Hailee off.

“I literally haven’t said anything yet.” The subtle smile on her face makes your heart skip multiple beats in the span of a few seconds.

You wait a bit before you respond, distracting yourself by shrugging her hand off your wrist so you can hold onto it instead. Hailee doesn’t rush you, seemingly understanding the storm of feelings in your head better than you do.

“I know.” You tilt your head down to avoid those brown eyes you fell for all those years ago. “That’s the problem. All you have to do is look at me and I forget all the reasons why I’m mad at you…why dating you would never work.”

“I don’t think your feelings for me are the problem, y/n.” 

You’re well aware of the way she’s redirecting the conversation back to the dumb argument you were having mere moments ago but you don’t fight against it. All you want is answers and if it takes you tearing down your walls for her so be it.

“Why? Because I’m the problem?”

“No.” Her voice is so quiet you have to force yourself to fully focus or risk missing out on her vulnerability. “It’s because I messed up so badly that you feel like you can’t trust me again.”

She’s right.

Again.

You wish you could say you were surprised.

Your silence speaks volumes, at least to her, and it’s not long before you feel her free hand nudging your face. You lean into her touch and let her tilt your head up until your eyes meet again. You don’t want to ruin the moment but the need to be witty outweighs your need for honesty. “Is this supposed to be an apology?”

The question earns you a chuckle and the sound is more than enough to ease some of the tension that’s gathered inside of your chest. “Something like that.”

She leans forward the slightest bit, giving you the chance to put space between the two of you if you want. You appreciate the gesture, and all the sweet parts of her it represents, but you’re tired of running. Tired of tiptoeing around a truth so obvious it’s painful to deny.

You lean in the rest of the way and gently press your lips against her.

It’s not exactly fear that holds you back. You’re trying to show her you want more than the fleeting moments of passion and the heated arguments. You want the real thing. Even if it means you’ll get hurt even worse in the process. Anything is better than the months you’ve spent ignoring her existence.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles against your lips. “I’m an idiot and an asshole but I really, really, want to be with you. For real this time.”

You lean back just enough to properly look into her eyes again. “Hailee-”

“I know, I know.” She silences your worries with another sweet kiss. “I thought it would be easier if we took our time with this but it was just an excuse. I don’t think I know how to be with you if we’re not arguing about something stupid all the time.”

“That’s because you’re immature,” you reply with the tiniest of smirks on your face. “And an idiot. And annoying in all the best ways.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

This time you're the one who laughs. It's insane how quickly you can go from total sincerity to playful jabs at each other. If you're being honest though, that's exactly why you love her. Because neither of you has to hold back around the other, even when it's infuriating.

“It’s supposed to be me telling you I’m okay with taking things at your pace. As long as you stop acting like we’re just friends.”

“You don’t want to be my friend? I’m heartbroken, baby.”

“I’m going to leave if you don’t stop.”

“Okay, okay. I’m kidding. But what do you want to be? Just so we’re on the same page ‘cause-”

You roll your eyes and shut her up with your lips. You have a feeling that’s exactly what she wanted you to do but you’re not about to complain. Especially when it results in her wrapping her arms around you and pulling you close.

You don't have all the answers you wanted, and there's still a lot the two of you have to figure out, but one thing is obvious. You're in this together. No matter how much you annoy the other or how scary it is to be completely honest after years of lies.

She's with you. For real, for real.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing #if you made it this far: stream guts by olivia rodrigo

[davnittbraes]

Hi Davnitt!

I have come to your ask box today with 3 Marcus Pikes and I desperately need to know which one you like the best and why…

Or

Or

Thanks in advance for the essay you are about to write 😉😘

Me?? An essay??

My friend, I really don’t know why you’re under the impression that I wouldn’t simply respond to this lovely ask with a straightforward and succinct answer, that just doesn’t sound like me AT ALL.

So anyways -

In this essay I will demonstrate which of the three Marcus gifs submitted I like best and why.

In the first gif, we have post-Teresa Marcus, still carrying the weight of a broken heart while trying to put his life back together. See the sad puppy dog eyes? The nervous smile? That delectable beard isn’t for an undercover job, as he so claims. It’s obvious Poor Bébé is grasping at anything in his life that he can control, any way he can alter the present to be different than the future he dreamed of with her that he now realizes will never come to fruition.

And yet, as we know, Marcus is resilient, unable to stay down for long. There’s a glimpse of it in his gaze, the unwavering confidence that is already guiding him toward realizing the truth - that Teresa was an uninteresting, immature woman with sociopathic tendencies.

Also, that NECK omg I just wanna BITE it nom nom nom and the SMILE??? My heart 🥰🥰🥰

The second gif -

*pauses to physically and emotionally recover from Marcus Pike in a white t-shirt*

- gives us a slightly defensive Marcus, one who is confronted with a perceived threat to his happiness (aka the man he obviously suspects his girlfriend is in love with) and a particularly inspired choice of camera angle where the viewer is subjected to the very same broad chest and shoulders that have so many of us shifting in our seats.

Though on the surface he is displaying his typical politeness, there’s an underlying general aura of “back the fuck away from my girl” that, for those of us who find the idea of him metaphorically growling at anyone who might steal us away attractive (re: me) demands multiple replays of this particular gif.

Plus his hair is so fluffy here like it’s just begging for fingers to run through it and grip and pull -

Ahem okay anyways MOVING ON.

The last gif submitted for consideration is the essential Marcus Pike gif. Do I have a source to support this argument? Yes. Myself. Fight me.

The gentle gaze that radiates sincerity, the clearly and firmly stated reassurance that he is patient, forgiving, and will be ready whenever she is? His heart isn’t just on his sleeve, it’s in his eyes as he looks at her.

This is my favourite Marcus gif, ever. Not only because of the points stated above, but because this gif ultimately inspired my I’m Here series. I wanted to capture the essence of this gif and distill it in my own hurts and pains and flaws and see if the result was anything meaningful.

But when I went to write the first part of the series, I thought - my Marcus has lived so much since this gif. He’s been through heartbreak and betrayal, made rash decisions and put too much of himself in other people’s hands.

In my series, he’s worked through all of that in therapy, learned how to hold relationships without demanding everything from the other person - and himself - all at once, and how to find the validation he seeks in himself, not others. He’s no longer obsessed with obtaining his perception of a perfect life, focused so determinedly on the future that he misses the importance of the present.

I’m Here Marcus is grounded, centred in the moment. He knows what he truly wants, and that is a partner who will walk side by side with him along whatever path life lays out.

So, where once he said “I’ll be here,” implying he will wait for when she decides to come to him, now he says “I am here. For you. Be here with me, now.”

In conclusion, though all submissions resulted in me staring at gifs for much longer than is healthy, the third is my favourite 😊

And if you’ve read this far, I’d like you to know that you’ve read approximately 600 words of deranged rambling about a minor character in an objectively terrible television show. Do what you will with that information.

Thank you for the ask, my darling Katie 🐙

#another davnitt essay #this time upon request! #did I put too much thought into this #probably #marcus pike fanfiction

[thatdeaffeel]

I have heard that some people in the Deaf community are opposed to research and efforts to restore or provide hearing to deaf people. Is this true? And if so, can you share some of the reasonings?

Sure.

I want to get a few things out of the way first.

First off let's acknowledge that being deaf and being a part of the deaf community are two different things. You do not need to be deaf to be part of the community, such as people who are raised in it like coda (child of deaf adult), or people who refuse classification as deaf because of their own severity or other personal reasons (hoh, single side deafness, partial deafness, apd, etc. the list is long and you are valid in however you choose to self-identity when experiencing hearing differences).

Second, it's always a good idea to remind everyone that we are not a monolith, there are as many deaf opinions as there are deaf people, and the same goes for the Big D. We don't agree on everything, there are deaf right-wing and deaf left-wing and everything in between. What you're going to read is the opinion of a singular deaf person. Please do not be fooled into believing that I am a source of authority nor that I speak for anyone other than myself. I am not an elected representative. I am often wrong, open and happy to be corrected in reblogs and replies. I'm going to be focussing on the UK, specifically because I am British and it's the experience and knowledge that I have, for people in other countries things will differ, and I respect and would welcome additions in the reblogs and replies! I could give a wider overview of global deaf society BUT it will be fractured and through the lens of my personal understanding as a mainstreamed British person and I really do not want to be yet another coloniser speaking for everyone, it's just not who I am.

Third, while the deaf community often restructure conversation around hearing differences as deaf gain it's a little difficult to talk using terminology outsiders and others don't understand so I will be saying hearing loss and other such things, but know that if you are in the deaf community I don't at all think you have lost anything, please don't take offence to this. As such, I'm not going to play word games, when I say deaf community I refer to big D and when I say deaf I refer to little d as the condition, that is going to continue going forward. It minimizes mistakes and prevents me from having to have lowercase characters at sentence starts, and I hope I can be forgiven. I understand the importance of the difference between the two and I know why it's done in context but re-adding that context into every conversation is at best tiring, and at worst gets in the way of the argument.

Okay so with that out of the way we have to do even more preparation (i am so sorry) by breaking down the question because the phrase, "people in the Deaf community are opposed to research and efforts to restore or provide hearing to deaf people" is NEBLOUS in the extreme.

The simple part of it, the essence of the question, about whether the deaf community is against the concept of a "cure" is very true, for the most part, the deaf community are against the concept of a cure because there is no cure for deafness. To ask for one is eugenics, to stop deafness you must stop deaf people from being born or created, neither of which is reasonably practicable without the usage of eugenics. Some people are born deaf and for them, a faculty of hearing can never be created by any means, these people cannot be left out of the conversation nor society as a whole. We WILL NOT be tolerating or condoning eugenics in this, if I see it, you will be forever blocked. Being deaf is a natural state for a lot of people, some born to it, others through accident or as the after-effect of illness. Whether or not deafness is a medical condition is a totally different question and whether there is anything to "restore" in the first place is an even bigger question that is not at all about the semantics of language and culture but of morality itself.

We have to start with a little history because in broad strokes deaf people have been the target of deeply ableist segregation for as long as we have existed. For the history of the first deaf school in my country please visit history-of-place for much more detail than I will add here. To keep it short and essential, through segregation came culture; deaf people found each other. Through shared language and experience a community blossomed and eventually, its own sets of values and beliefs.

A culture was formed as a response to ableism and segregation. Instead of being separated and abandoned, deaf people came together to support one another and find ways to exist fully as ourselves. We created a community so that when people were outcast or cast off from "normal" (hearing) society they had a place to call home, a place they can live and thrive.

Some of the values and beliefs that are inherent to deaf culture are that hearing loss is not a loss at all, it is the entryway to an entirely new way of life, one that is as rich, fulfilling, interesting and valuable, as any other. They believe, rightly so, that their culture is vital to the way of life for deaf people and that it should be protected, but also that the definition of being hearing as normal is a dangerous and false one. Many people are born without the required hardware to be able to hear and to create a society that is completely intolerant of deaf people is to create a society where someone is permanently forced to perform to fit in, they are at a permanent disadvantage when forced to be oral. Without the deaf community, that person will always feel left out, stuck, different and othered.

To a lot of people in the deaf community, the concept of "curing" deafness is deeply offensive. To them, it is not an affliction that should be pitied or altered, it is a simple fact of their body that they embrace, because it is a cultural signifier. They are deaf, they belong to the deaf community, and the deaf community is not something that should be "cured" out of society.

At the root of it all is the belief that people who are deaf should have the choice not to be abandoned by society, and that they should have a place to live, a place to exist. That they should not have to modify their body in order to belong. It is a belief centred on self-autonomy, which is where the moral quandary comes in.

You can see that this sits in pretty stark contrast to mainstream society, where people view deafness as a limiting disability, that to be deaf is to lose your capacity to function in society. This belief is an ableist one. It's similar to the autism community, mainstream society forces us, autistic people, to play pretend and to defer to their culture in order to fit in, they see as us less, as other. Inside autistic society and culture, we don't see ourselves as other, or as less than. We are just ourselves. We think differently to the mainstream and that is in no way a bad thing, it is JUST different.

To get you to see the deaf side of your question for a second, imagine we restructure it to being about an autistic person.

"I have heard that some people in the Autistic community are opposed to research and efforts to restore or provide neurotypical responses to autistic people."

You're starting from the assumption that there is anything to be restored.

Your position with this question is the assumption that hearing is a default when we know that there are a great many types of deafness, some of which that we are born into and that there is no meaningful medical way to create hearing for that person where it would otherwise have never existed in the first place. There is an oft-touted "cure" called the cochlear implant, but if you haven't done research on it yet, you should. The implant is very often MORE disabling than learning sign and joining deaf society, in part because it is an imperfect version of hearing but also because it represents a choice made FOR someone. Adult and young adult adopters of the implant more often than not reject it for the burdensome unintelligible noise generator that it is, due to far too few frequencies and other limitations of the device that we won't get into here. The best time to get an implant is as a child, long and far before the child will have the social awareness of the deaf community or the fulfilling life they can lead inside it, so the best time to get the best use out of the implant is when the child is at their least capable of deciding for themselves.

For a lot of the deaf community this position, that there is something to "cure" is deeply offensive.

As a trans person, I understand to the bottom of my being that people are not necessarily born who they will be when they grow up and that our starting configuration has nothing to do with who or what we are. The deaf community believes this too, by and large.

So it comes down to a moral question. Do you mainstream and force yourself away from a culture you can engage in, forever isolating yourself in a speaking society where you will have limited and othered status, or do you embrace and embed yourself into a subculture where you will be treated as an equal but where you are segregated, externally subjected to ableism and have to learn to interface with the speaking world.

It's a hard decision, right? It's WORSE when you're deciding on behalf of someone else, especially a child. See, most medical interventions in deafness are done on behalf of children, often babies, and they are the start of a pathway, toward the acceptance of the deaf community as a valid, genuine culture, or away and acceptance of a medical condition that can be treated so you can maintain your position in mainstream society no matter how tenuous that position may be.

Some inside the deaf community look at outcomes, some think any procedure at all is bad, some think what can be cured should be cured, and others still HATE the concept of a "cure" at all. I said before there are as many positions on this as there are deaf people and I stand by it.

Personally? I take the view that children who are deaf should be put in deaf schools, should learn the sign of their country, in my case bsl, should be taught to interface with hearing society and should get all the healthcare to ensure their continued existence without pain, suffering or undue harm. I believe that all deferrable interventions SHOULD BE DEFERRED, that they, the deaf person, as an individual, with all the rights and knowledge available of the communities they are choosing to belong to, should be the person to decide on how they are treated and what impact it will have. I have no stance on emergent care, we do what we can to stop people from dying.

I would not choose a cochlear implant for my child, I would educate them and let them choose for themselves. Constructing an ear out of cartilage? I let the child choose. Where possible, I let someone choose for themselves. Bodily autonomy is the most important thing to me.

I hope this helped. Your question is complex because it treats a cultural, ethical and moral question as a purely medical one, which in itself, makes it hard to answer.

#deaf #deaf tag #hoh #thanks anon! #question #hard of hearing #apd #auditory processing disorder #not a feel #deaf culture #deaf community #actually deaf #this is a really complex one so please please please correct me where i've gone wrong #i do not speak for everyone #i don't speak for the deaf community as a whole #i am just one person doing my best #where i have gone wrong i have done so on accident and without malice #so please remember that and don't hate me for not quite getting things right lmao #i love you all #i hope this finds who it needs to find

[shae-s-heartsong]

On unusual reactions and complex situations (GO2 ending)

So, I see a lot of interesting theories, analyses and speculations about what happens at the end of S2 out there, and regardless of if I agree with them or not, I keep track of everything, because every perspective is interesting and enriching.  I do observe, though, that a lot of these posts assume things about how Aziraphale and Crowley react (and I mean, I DO THAT AS WELL), and use these assumptions as arguments for their theories - without nuancing them.

The thing is that we don’t exactly know for sure what happened exactly in both our character’s heads; and we don’t know how they are supposed to react to the situation. Because we never had such a situation. YES, we had similar situations, which helps to have an idea of what’s normal or what’s not, or at least what is usual. But that’s just what it is. Ideas. And while it is totally valid to try to make a point and use the examples and clues we have, it is important to nuance them, if you theorize (speculating is a different thing). If I’m writing that, it’s because a lot of people seem to focus on the fact that Crowley’s reaction after Aziraphale left is unusual and like I said, use that as an argument.

From what I read, it seems difficult to imagine that Crowley’s so calm and still, that he barely shows anything, that he’s not getting angry or shouting or something like that. To that, I want to answer: by what standard? Why do you assume that he should ALWAYS react the same way to things that affect him? And why does his body language seem so strange to so many people?

Personally, I didn’t find that strange (but I am autistic so not the biggest authority for that tbh). In fact we already saw him reacting in similar ways.  Now I know that I said that it wasn’t enough of an argument, but I read many people saying that we didn’t. But we did. For example, after Aziraphale and him had an argument because of Gabriel, when he goes to his car, he looks absolutely exhausted and he probably would have stayed like that if Beelzebub did not appear in his car.

I know that this happens after he gets angry, but it still proves that he can show that type of behavior, if he’s tired enough. We can reasonably imagine that the kiss he gave to Aziraphale was a gesture of despair and replaced the “I’m getting angry” phase. We can also imagine that Aziraphale still rejecting his offer (which in his mind is probably rejecting him) after THREE different attempts to make him change his mind (1- try to convince him 2- kiss him 3- wait for him) was enough to just absorb all of his energy, all of his anger, all of his frustration. Maybe he’s just DONE. Maybe he just doesn’t always react that way. I mean, he was so close to obtaining what was, in his eyes, happiness. It’s something that never happened before - at least not with Aziraphale so close to say yes. Can you imagine how crushing that must be for him to let go of that hope?  And well, maybe the anger will come. After. Things only just happened. He’s still processing them. 

I could go on and talk about other details that seem to bother people but it’s rather useless -  I mean, maybe I’m wrong, and also, I think that there are pieces that we might not have yet. It’s just that I’m frustrated when people don’t go for reasonable assumptions before diving into more obscure theories (using these primal elements as introduction or simply nuance).

And I’m frustrated when people say that Crowley, or Aziraphale, shouldn’t react the way they do - I know that details matter in Good Omens, but also, you can’t expect them to exhibit the exact same behavior in situations with different degrees of stakes. (I don’t know if I make sense). And I think this is one of the most complex, delicate situations they have ever been in - after centuries of living in survival mode, they finally come to the crashing point where there life model isn’t enough anymore, when even the love they share for each other is no longer enough - because their belief systems, their desires and the state of their trauma processing are on complete opposition. And they have to finally face it - without the other. This is unprecedented. 

#good omens 2 spoilers #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens meta #crowley #good omens analysis #good omens speculation #good omens series 2 #trying to give nuance #good omens crowley #good omens s2 ending

[guess-my-next-obsession]

The Mandalorian and The Corellian

chapter three: the silence

pairing: din djarin x corellian!reader

warnings: NSFW 18+, getting caught in the act, arguments, angst, helmet comes off, me not knowing enough about the SW Galaxy lay out and guessing, soft!din ending

words: 5.6k

series masterlist

a/n: this wasn’t supposed to be posted until the eight but i have no self control, am impatient, and crave more validation. but this will be the last update until the 8th so that i can focus on my other series 🫶🏼 also, literally shout out to @awholelottayeehaw for managing to fuckin guess the whole plot twist in the last chapter’s comment section 🫡 i actually choked on my spit—well done brother in christ

You’d forgotten how good of a distraction and stress reliever sex could be, your dating pool in Mos Espa being bleak and driving you into celibacy. But here, with this strong man three times your size driving into you like his life depended on it, it reminded you of all the splendors of pleasure you’d been missing out on.

“Vero,” you panted his name as your nails clawed up his back, so close to the edge and yet so impatient. “Harder. Rougher. More.”

“Don’t want to break you,” he panted out through slamming thrusts, surprised that you not only could take more than what he was already giving you, but that you wanted it.

“I’m not a piece of glass—oh! Right there!” Your high was beginning to wash over you, just a few more thrusts and you’d get there. Just a few more…

“Y/N!” The two of you jumped at the sound of a third party entering your ship, Vero leaning over and covering your body with his. “Oh—I didn’t—I thought you were hurt—I—“

“Get out!” You shouted at the Mandalorian, your face turning red with anger and frustration. You were so close to forgetting about him. So close to feeling good after tonight’s drama. And of course, he had to come and ruin it all.

Mando rushed out of the ship, his head spinning with the sight of you naked and underneath another man. He wasn’t sure if it was concern, anger, or jealousy that weighed him down and made his blood feel hotter than all the suns combined, but something was affecting him. He stood outside the ship, pacing around the outside without much of a clue as to why he was lingering around.

He knew he found you attractive, but he found plenty of people attractive over the years. He didn’t think much of it, not until a few hours back when you publicly—and loudly—declared you didn’t like him. It hurt more than he thought it would. Tons of people didn’t like him, and it never once bothered him until the words were coming out of your pretty mouth.

Your smart mouth.

God, he hated the way you spoke so carelessly. Hated it because he longed to be like that. You were everything he was not—hot headed, careless, snide, fun-loving…beautiful. He was all carefully planned steps, seriousness, quiet, and level-minded (aside from a few run ins with the Jawas and droids a while back). You were nothing like him, and yet, there seemed to be an invisible connection between the two of you. Perhaps it was your lack of faith in the general population, or perhaps it was your shared feeling of not belonging anywhere—whatever it was, it tied his heart to yours even when his head ached with disdain.

“What the fuck, Mando?” You came out in just Vero’s tunic and boots, shouting and waking every sleeping creature in the woods.

“I heard a blaster-shot and came to check on you.” He tried to remain calm as he turned his eyes from your bare legs, his stomach feeling queasy as his mind flashed with images of them wrapped around Vero’s waist.

“A little late, don’t you think?” You snapped, scoffing at his excuse. “I don’t think you gave two shits about checking on me. I think you knew I was out here with Vero, and for whatever reason, you decided it would be fun to cockblock me!”

“You think I’d walk miles into a dark forest to come and ruin your night with the lumberjack?” He asked as he turned to you, his eyes narrowing inside his helmet. You nodded and folded your arms over your chest, remaining firm in your accusation. “What would I get out of that besides the vile image of you beneath him?”

“The satisfaction in knowing that I’m having a terrible night. Probably the worst I’ve had in a long time. And I lived in Mos Espa when the Hutts ruled. You can imagine the terrible nights I’ve had.”

“You didn’t sound like you were having a terrible time with him.” He countered, watching as you turned pink in the cheeks.

“I wasn’t. Until you came along and ruined it.”

“The two of you have been out here for a while now. Like you said…I was a little late. What? He couldn’t get you off in that time?” You furrowed your brows, every comeback and insult flying out of your head as you took in his tone. Was it darker? Deeper? Full of an emotion you couldn’t yet define?

“He was doing just fine.”

“And yet you’re out here screaming at me instead of screaming for him.” He stepped towards you, your feet stumbling as you stepped back. This surely wasn’t how you wanted him to make a move.

“Why don’t you go back to Omera?” You seethed, full of resentment with the knowledge that you’d always be second best.

“Maybe I will.”

“Good.” You shrugged.

“Good.”

“I can’t wait for you to leave.” You stepped closer to him, your body acting against your will.

“I can’t wait to be gone.” He filled the gap completely, your chests touching as you eyed each other, silently challenging the other to make the first move.

“Everything alright?” Vero poked his head out, his pants draped low on his hips, a cup of water in his big hand. Mando tilted his head at you without looking at the other man, and though you couldn’t see it, you could feel him smirking at you.

Stepping back from the Mandalorian, you nodded, hate-filled eyes remaining on his as you walked backwards to the ramp. “Yeah, I was just sending him home.”

“Have a good night, Mando.” Vero smiled at him and nodded his head, Mando’s eyes rolling inside his helmet at the man’s confidence. Though, he figured he’d probably feel just as cocky if it was him that had just been in between your thighs. “I’ll make sure she’s safe until the morning.”

“Oh, thank the Maker.” Mando walked off, tone thick with sarcasm as he listened to your giggles sound out in the silent woods. Time to find Omera.

•••

Morning sounds from the critters in the trees stirred you awake, your arms stretching out and a smile splayed across your face. Vero had more than made up from the orgasm you missed out on during Mando’s interruption, his warm body laid close to yours as you shuffled in the sheets. A smile cracked on his face when you looked over at him, his arm slung over your torso pulling you tighter to his body.

“Good morning,” he mumbled as he kissed your shoulder. You smiled at the sweetness that you were so unaccustomed to before climbing out of the bed and stretching your entire body. He sat up and watched you, a slight frown on his face as you went about your morning routine. “How, uh, are you feeling?”

“Good. I needed that.” You glanced over at him with a smirk, watching as he looked just the slightest bit relieved. “I forgot how fun one-night stands could be.”

“Right. One night.” He pursed his lips together and nodded, accepting the sting in his heart. You just now began to pick up on it—his disappointment in your casualness.

“I’m sorry, Vero. I thought I made it clear last night that I wasn’t in the position to rush into anything serious right now—“

“No, yeah. You did. You did. I just,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Just hoped you’d change your mind, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” you bit your lip as you watched him climb out of bed and tug on his clothes from the night before, his eyes avoiding yours. “I had a really good time with you. Really good.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and remained cold as he slipped on his shoes, your breath hitching before releasing in a sigh.

“Do, uh, do you think I’m allowed to join you back at the village?” You asked, watching as he furrowed his brows at you in confusion. “You know, given the fact that the elders told me to fuck off.”

“The elders never said you had to leave. It was my sister and her friends. Said you posed a threat to the kids.” He watched as you scoffed in disbelief, your brows furrowing. “Did Omera tell you it was the elders idea?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled and shook your head. “Yeah, she did.”

“Well, she lied.” He sighed and walked towards you, holding your face in the palm of his hand, his green eyes tender as they beamed down at you. “Stay here. With me. We can build a cabin in the middle of nowhere. It’s peaceful here. I killed the last threat around, remember?”

“Vero, I have loose ends I have to tie up. Need to go see my family. I can’t…I can’t just abandon my entire plan to stay here with you. Besides, your sister clearly has it out for me.” You shook your head as you reached up to cradle his face, eyes bouncing across his features. “In another life, I would’ve loved you. But…this isn’t another life.”

“I understand.” He nodded and begrudgingly accepted your rejection, moving away from you. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat before you head out.”

The walk back to the village was more pleasant than you thought it would be. It seemed after some effective communication, Vero had come around to understanding your lack of desire to stay here with him. Conversation flowed easily between you, and although you came from totally different backgrounds, there was a mutual understanding of one another. Unlike…

“Mando! Do you really have to go?” Omera’s daughter hugged Mando’s leg as you walked into the village along side Vero. When the Mandalorian spotted you, he felt like the wind was knocked out of him, your smile radiant as you avoided him completely.

“You really could stay. You both fit in so well here. You could be happy.” Omera stepped into his eye line and blocked you completely, a smile similar to yours splayed across her face. It was then that he realized they weren’t ordinary smiles of joy—they were of satisfaction. Din had brought Omera to the same peaks of pleasure last night that Vero no doubt brought you to. The thought of the two of you doing the same things he did with Omera making his fists ball up and squeeze. “We could be happy.”

“Omera, I—“

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Grogu tumbling over into a krill pond, no doubt having been trying to catch one in the process. He ran over to his kid and scooped him out of the water, Grogu crying as his father held him close.

“Is he okay?” She asked, rushing over and taking off her apron to wrap around the kid. Din sighed at her kindness, wishing it was enough to make him stay with her, but it just wasn’t.

“Yeah, he’s just scared.” He cradled the child against his beskar covered chest and avoided Omera’s eyes. “We’re not going to be staying, Omera. I’m sorry, it’s just…not the right time.”

“Will it ever be?” She asked, eyes tender and nearing tears. Din waited a beat before slowly shaking his head, her eyes falling to the grass.

“Omera!” Vero stomped over with you in tow, causing Din’s eyes to look up from the disappointed beauty in front of him. He took in the sight of you smirking behind your beast of a man, eyes narrowing at you through his visor. “Wanna tell your boyfriend the truth? Or should I?”

“Shut up.” She hissed back at her brother, shocking Din as he’d never heard anything but softness escape her lips.

“Alright, then I will.” Vero smiled widely as he turned from his sister to the Mandalorian. You avoided Mando’s eyes as you grinned at the grass, happy that Vero was about to air out his sisters lies right in front of the bounty hunter. “You remember how Omera told Y/N it was the elders idea for her to leave?”

“It was not!” One of the oldest women in the village chimed in, Vero sighing and closing his eyes in annoyance, rubbing his temples.

“Yes, nana. Thanks for ruining the suspense.”

“What are you talking about?” Mando asked, eyes flickering to Omera’s guilt-ridden face.

“My sister was the one who made the call. Convinced the other parents that Y/N was a danger to the kids. Then, she went and lied to both of you about it. Just so she could have you all to herself for the night.” He glanced over at his sister, now seething with rage. “Bet it worked too.”

“Omera,” Din stepped towards the woman he took his helmet off for, heart racing and stomach churning. “Is that true?”

“Yes, but—“

“Did you know about the raider?” Vero interjected, his arms crossing over his chest. “The one that nearly killed her?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Omera whipped her head over to Mando, reaching to touch his chest, but he shooed her hands away. “Please believe me when I say I didn’t know—“

“Doesn’t matter. Y/N nearly died because of your lie.” Din clenched his jaw, looking around at the entire village listening in on the drama before landing his eyes on you.

He felt like such a fool for letting his guard down completely to a woman who turned out to be just another liar. His lapse in judgement almost resulted in your murder, the thought making his head throb. Stepping towards Vero, you looked up out of fear that Mando would swing at him, but he didn’t. You watched as the Mandalorian shook his hand, thanking him for his honesty before moving him to the side.

Your eyes fell back to the ground, still not quite over the events of last night. Just because he was now realizing that his dream girl was a liar didn’t mean that you were just going to forgive him and jump into his arms.

“Y/N,” Mando sighed and reached to touch your shoulder. You shrugged it off and lifted your eyes to his, still seething with anger towards him. He sighed at your rejection. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.” You nodded and spoke coldly, the ice of your tone hitting Din right in the heart. He knew he deserved it, this entire visit a complete fuck up on his part, but he also wondered what it was he had to do to show you that he truly was sorry for everything.

He unwrapped Grogu, dropping the apron at Omera’s feet, his eyes avoiding her completely as he picked up his bag and began to walk off without another word.

You leaned up on your tiptoes, kissing Vero’s cheek and thanking him for everything before following Mando into the woods, a few yards behind him the entire time.

After arriving to your parked ships, Mando shrugged his bag off his shoulders and turned around to you, gesturing at the ramp. “Is it okay if I put my bag inside?”

“Yeah, cleaned up all the cum already.” You snarked, raising your eyebrows at him as he froze in place. “Jokes.”

“Have you always spoken so…crassly?” He stepped up into the hold, resting his bag down beside your bed, not failing to notice the tangled sheets—evidence of a good night.

“Have you always been so uptight?” You countered, joining him in the ship. A smirk grew on your face as he became increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that you and him were all alone with a bed right beside you. “So…Omera—”

“Don’t.”

“I was just wondering if you made good on your threat.” You shrugged and sat down on the bed, looking up at him as you laid back against the mattress, your hair spread out on the sheets and a devilish smirk on your face. He could no longer deny that he was aroused by you, but that certainly didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it.

“My threat?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, rolling over onto your stomach and propping your chin up on your elbow, arching your back extra just to study his reaction. “To fuck her.”

“That’s none of your business.” He grumbled and stepped down the ramp, walking over to his N-1 and setting Grogu in the passenger pod.

“It wasn’t your business what I was doing last night, and yet you happily walked right in. Bet you saw everything. Only fair that I get to know if—“

“Yes. We slept together. Happy? Can we go now?” He was as tense as ever as you kept your eyes on his, your smirk fading a bit. You hadn’t expected that he actually would’ve done it—if you had, you wouldn’t have brought it up.

“Yeah. We can go.”

Din was shocked by the sudden shift in your smug mood, your face turning pained as you walked away, into the ramp of the ship and closing it behind you. Swallowing his feelings, he climbed into his seat and closed his pod, starting the N-1 up and allowing it’s loud engine to drown out his constant stream of thought.

He wasn’t used to this much…feeling. Not since meeting the kid had he been consumed by so much feeling for another living thing. He wondered if it was Grogu who was to thank for his sudden soft hearted nature. Even with Omera—his stomach feeling sick at the thought of her having seen his face while you still had not—he only felt hints of feelings. But with you, he felt an entire world of them.

He thought you were painfully beautiful, your eyes sparkling even when you were shooting daggers his way. You were sexy, and managed to stir feelings of deep arousal within him without doing a single sexual thing. In fact, it was you who drove him to the point of needing a release last night. He felt happy when he saw you smile genuinely—possibly the only thing he didn’t mind about you entire fling with Vero.

You also managed to fill him to the brim with anger and frustration. He’d never met a woman like you who talked so much like a man, or at least a woman that looked like you who did—Peli had a similar charm, but she was 30+ years older than you and looked hardened by those years. You were as soft and beautiful in appearance as fine silk, and yet when you spoke, it was all worn leather. The juxtaposition drove him mad.

“Checking comms.” He heard your voice over his comms system, his stomach fluttering a bit before he cleared his throat and spoke back.

“Clear.”

“Taking off.” You sighed, lifting off and ascending out of the atmosphere.

As soon as you were off planet, you felt lighter. The entire thing, aside from Vero, was a disaster. You never wanted to think about Sorgan again—and that included talking things over with your escort.

Once your ships were flying through the dark expanse of space, you decided to never mention any of it again. What he did with his penis was his business, even if his business deeply affected you and stirred feelings of insecurity and jealousy within you. You’d drop it all—including and especially your feelings for him. It was an unnecessary stressor on your business relationship, and it was above all else just plain unrealistic.

He was never going to be anything to you. In just a few days, you’d be landing on your home planet for the first time in a decade, and he’d be leaving you. Perhaps if there was more time, the two of you could feel things out—

No. No more feelings for the Mandalorian.

“No music this time?” His voice startled you, a sharp inhale of breath filling your lungs as you thought about a response.

Nothing felt right to say quite yet, so you said nothing.

“Ah, the silence.” He sounded slighted, though he attempted to hide it.

“Where will we land for camp?” You finally spoke back, sounding exhausted—and in truth, you were.

“We can land on the Glavis Ringworld.”

“Never heard of it.” You put in the coordinates and watched as your screen illuminated with the sight of a ring-like space station. “Is it safe?”

“Does it matter? Sorgan was safe and look at what happened.” You chuckled against your own will, surprising Din as he listened to the sound. He hadn’t meant to make you laugh, but he wasn’t complaining. Anything was better than the painful silence washing over the two of you since leaving Sorgan. “I am…sorry…about what happened. I shouldn’t have been so…distracted.”

“It’s fine, Mando. We really don’t have to talk about it.” You sighed, your heart racing at the confrontation. You hated “sit down” talks like this. It was easier and more efficient to handle your feelings internally, going quiet until they were processed and then coming back out of your shell.

“No, it wasn’t. I was wrong for letting you leave alone—“

“Mando, seriously. I don’t want to talk about this. It’s fine. Water under the bridge.” You hoped he’d get the hint this time and drop it, and judging by the silence that fell over the two of you for the next few hours, he had.

By the time the two of you had landed in a hangar on the space station, the tension had dwindled back down into nothing. For a moment, a part of you became scared that this was a telling observation—you two could only be civil when you weren’t speaking. You hoped that wasn’t the case.

Your mind flipped back to the morning you both left Tatooine. You didn’t feel so annoyed at him then when you were cooking him breakfast in the dark, so why now?

Perhaps it was because you had no feelings for him then, and now…

“We should get something to eat. Grogu is starving.” Mando spoke up as he walked into your hangar, watching as you locked up the ship for the night. You nodded, afraid to speak and turn the conversation sour again. “Are you hungry?”

You shrugged, nodding at him as you walked over. He seemed stressed and exhausted, but from what, you weren’t sure.

“Are you hungry for anything in particular?” He sighed, frustrated with the silent treatment.

You shook your head and gave him an indifferent frown of your lips, shrugging.

“Are you just not going to speak anymore?” He shifted his weight onto one hip, Grogu cradled in his arm.

“When it’s important.” You spoke up, half-surprising him. He expected more silence.

“It’s like looking in a mirror.” He scoffed under his breath and shook his head, turning on his heels and leading you out of the hangar. You couldn’t see it, and he himself wasn’t quite sure why it happened, but a smile found its way onto his face underneath his helmet. He let it sit there for a bit as the two of you walked through the unique city, the constant shifting between day and night extra obvious against his beskar armor.

“H-have you been here before?” You finally spoke, hopeful that enough time had passed since he last tried to talk about Sorgan that he’d forget about trying again.

“Once. To deliver a bounty.” He turned towards you as you approached a trendy restaurant advertising raw fish. “Is this place okay?”

“Sure.” You shrugged, deciding it was long overdue for you to try new things.

As Mando approached the building, the doors slid open, his broad frame taking up the entire width. You sucked in a harsh breath at the sight and followed in behind him.

“Dine in or takeout?” The droid at the counter spoke up, Mando turning to look over his shoulder at you. You shrugged your shoulders and mumbled an “I don’t care”.

“Takeout.” He instructed, the droid handing him a tablet for him to create his order on. He turned around and tilted his helm down to look at you, the two of you much closer than he anticipated. “Do you, uh, know what you want, or would you like me to order for you?”

“You can order for me.” You offered a weak smile, watching him nod before pressing away at the screen. The light illuminated his helmet, and you hoped to catch a glimpse of what lord behind the darkened visor covering his face, but you could see nothing. Perhaps there was nothing.

No. Couldn’t be a droid. He’d had sex with a human. Although surely that wasn’t an unheard of act. But he didn’t move like a droid. He didn’t emote like a droid. No, he was a living, breathing, body of flesh. Flesh you’d fantasized about touching and studying, even when you tried to convince yourself not to.

“All set.” He turned around with two bags of food in his free hand, Grogu still held soundly in the other.

“Will we be staying at the hangars?” You asked as he led you back the same path you just walked.

“It’s safer, trust me. Most of these Inn’s are pleasure houses, and a lot happens at pleasure houses.”

“You sound like you’re familiar with them.” You chuckled, bringing his attention to you again. After hearing you scream at him, every laugh and giggle was like a soothing balm. He wanted to hear it over and over again until the harsher memories were erased.

“I was a young man once, believe it or not.”

Did he ever laugh? Then you remembered you’d heard it once—with Omera. Your eyes rolled on their own volition at the memory.

“What?” He asked, having seen the action. You quickly turned to him, not even realizing what you’d done.

“What?” You asked sincerely.

“You rolled your eyes.”

A blush came over your face as you realized your jealousy seemed to have a mind of its own, and that was the mind controlling your body most of the time.

“I just…I remembered something…unpleasant.” You dismissed him as the hangar door opened, Mando gesturing for you to walk in first.

His heart raced in his chest as he thought about what he was going to do next—what he’d been planning on doing since he set the coordinates for this pit stop in his system. For some reason, he couldn’t shake the need to show himself to you—his face, at least.

It didn’t feel right that Omera had seen him and you hadn’t, and perhaps once you saw that he was just another human, maybe you’d see that he was capable of fucking up just like everyone else. You didn’t want to talk about what happened, and he understood that, but perhaps this would be a way to ease the tension for good without any of the talking it over.

He only hoped it wasn’t going to be a mistake like the last time.

“I’d invite you inside to eat with me, but I know—“

“Okay.” He nodded, gesturing at the ship. You chuckled in disbelief before quickly assuming that he had a way of eating that didn’t break his sacred code of honor.

You opened up the hatch rather than the ramp, the three of you stepping inside the ship. Mando set Grogu down on the lone crate in your cargo hold, still amused that you’d turned your space into a full-size bedroom. He sat down beside the child while you sat across from the two of them on the edge of your bed.

“I can go up to the pit if you want—“

You were cut off by the sight of Mando pressing a button on his helmet, a hiss of pressure releasing before he began to lift it off his head. Was this really happening? He was showing you his face?

Soon, you were met with a stubble covered jaw, pouted lips that dimpled a bit in the center, a strong nose that had your mind reeling with lustful fantasies, and finally, the most beautiful pair of brown eyes you’d ever looked into. He didn’t look directly at you at first, shuffling around and acting as though it was no big deal, but the child sitting beside him cooing in delight proved that it indeed had been.

“I got you what I always get. I hope you like it.” He handed you a couple boxes of different sushi, his eyes finally flickering to yours. Your lips parted at the sight, quickly turning your eyes down at the delicious looking assortment of food. You knew you were blushing, but so was he.

“Y-you’re very handsome, Mando.” You finally confessed after a bit, Din’s jaw slowing to a halt as he chewed his food. His eyes slowly rose from his plate to you, taking in the sight of you so flustered by him. He swallowed the food and wiped his mouth, nodding at you in silent thanks.

“Uh, thank you. But…you can just call me Din.” He looked back to his plate, hoping to hide his own blush.

“Din?” He nodded, still avoiding your eyes. Sighing, you felt your chest constrict with guilt over the fact that he’d gone out of his way to open himself up to you after everything that went down while you remained closed off. Scratching your neck, you accepted the onslaught of anxiety that came with speaking about your feelings out loud. “I’m sorry for pointing my blaster at you. And for…everything, really. I haven’t been the easiest person to get along with, I know. It’s just how things are in my family.”

“Your cousin is Han Solo,” he meant it as a question, but spoke it like a fact. You nodded, eyes dropping to your food again. You missed Han. “That puts things into perspective.”

“You know Han?” You lifted your eyes, watching as he chuckled—relishing in the fact that you not only could hear it but could see it. It still was unbelievable to you that he was actually helmetless.

“I’ve had a few run ins with him. He’s…well, he’s a lot like you. So. You can imagine how well we get along.” Din looked to your eyes again, this time letting them stay there. You chuckled and nodded in understanding. Han wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t model yourself after him. “I showed Omera my face last night.”

His admission came out of nowhere and it struck you in the chest, not entirely because of your jealousy but because you knew how much it meant for him to do such a thing.

“Yeah?” You didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah.” He nodded, eyes dropping to his plate again.

“Will you forgive her?” You asked after a beat, unsure of how else to carry on the conversation. Din shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

“No. I don’t think I will.” He looked back to you. “Will you be visiting Vero again? After you visit your family?”

“No. I don’t think I will.” You repeated his words, earning a smile.

The air felt tense again, but not like before. This was a good kind of tension. Good, but dangerous. Sucking in some breath, you looked over at the clock beside your bed. It was late, and you hadn’t slept much last night, your body and mind exhausted from the events of the day.

“Think it’s time for bed.” You stood up and walked the remaining food over to your mini-fridge, putting it inside and closing it. When you turned back around, Din was taking his beskar off, setting it in a near pile near the crate before sitting down on the floor and easing his back against the wall. “You’re going to sleep right there?”

“I don’t mind. I can sleep anywhere.” Grogu, meanwhile, was not about to skip the opportunity to fall asleep in a warm bed. You both watched the child crawl up the clean sheets to the pillows, resting himself in the center of the queen sized bed. His eyes looked back and forth between the space on his sides before doing the same with the two of you.

“Come on, you can sleep in the bed, Din.” You tried out his name for the first time, causing a flurry of butterflies in his stomach at the sound. He looked hesitant, not wanting for the two of you to prematurely cross the line he hoped one day you would. “It’ll be fine. The kid’s in the middle, nothings going to happen. I’m not going to pounce on you in your sleep.”

You realized the way your words may have come across, for once deciding to apologize for your accidentally innuendo.

“As in an attack.”

“Right.” He stood up with a deep breath, shooing the images out of his mind of you the night before, naked and being drilled into. It didn’t bother him so much anymore, especially since he’d managed to envision himself in Vero’s place.

Walking over to the opposite side of the bed, Din watched as you stripped down to your underthings, his neck feeling increasingly hot at the sight before you disappeared beneath your plush comforter. He took another breath of courage before doing the same, stripping his clothes off until he was only in his most essential layer. Your eyes raked over his scarred body, golden and somehow even more beautiful with the battle wounds all over it. He was quick to get beneath the blanket, his cheeks red with insecurity as he watched your eyes turn away.

“Goodnight.” He mumbled before turning his back to you, a smile growing on your face now that he couldn’t see it.

“Night, Din.”

taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @mandomover @chxpsi @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @trickstersp8 @idkifimaliveanymore @trinkets01 @chloeinpink @alwaysdjarin @tizylish @jessie-skywalker @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @dindjarinsmut @jlmaddinson @ladyrebel25 @lexloon @awholelottayeehaw @hungrhay (sorry if your tag isn’t working!)

#din djarin angst #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando angst #mando x y/n #mando fluff #mando smut #mando fanfiction #mando x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction

[listenheresweaty]

UPDATE: c!wilbur content + another poll!! Read carefully.

So the poll hasn’t finished yet, but it seems that the majority will be okay with c!wilbur works. I WILL, however, wait a while before posting so people can take a break and fully separate the c from the cc. In the future, if you do NOT want to see c!wilbur content but do not want to block me (I will be trying to write for other characters, after all), here are some options:

Block the tags “c!wilbur and c!wilbur soot X reader”

Unfollow me and follow the not-yet-created tag of “sweaty writes— not Wilbur”. I will be tagging any of my non-Wilbur works with that tag, so following it without following me will expose you only to the non-Wilbur works (if any arrive). You may still have to block c!wilbur X reader tags.

If neither of these work for you, unfollowing and blocking is a valid option. I won’t be upset, promise :)

As for the actual c!wilbur content— good news! Y’all get to choose the bur variation I will write for after my break. Each option has its own pros and cons, so READ THEM CAREFULLY!!

POLL IS BELOW ALL THE WRITING!!!!!!

(before reading; there is nothing wrong with morally gray characters— I love them actually— but some people might not want them associated with any bursonas after what the cc did)

anyway, the options:

Faebur

Pros: This bur is not affiliated with the content creator in any way. In addition, the nature of the fae will allow me to never mention his name (he will be referred to as “your fae friend” or by a nickname such as “Twigs”, and never “Wilbur”). His appearance will also have some supernatural aspects that distinguish him from the cc (gold eyes, pointy ears, yada yada).

Cons: I have only the barest idea of what to write. So. It will take a while. Like— a WHILE. Also, the fic will probably focus on descriptions, so some physical aspects similar to the cc’s will appear (lanky, tall, brown hair, yada yada).

Chefbur

Pros: Also not affiliated with the cc! This one is my own creation. It is basically a Ratatouille au. He will also be called Wilbur Craft (full name Wilson Craft) instead of Soot. I already have some notes down for the development of the fic, and parts one and two are already posted. Cons: He will be called “Wilbur” throughout the fic, and his appearance is obviously very similar to c!wilbur (that is, a cartoonized/stylized version of the cc. Not the same. Probably will make his eyes hazel or something. Or not mention them at all idk).

Revivebur

Pros: I wrote this one so long ago (over a year) that it is borderline ooc, which might me helpful for some. Also, I have it written and ready to go (ALTHOUGH I will still take a break before posting it). Cons: it’s c!wilbur (derived from the cc’s creation), and the fic deals with themes such as forgiveness / loving someone despite their misdeeds that made everyone hate them, which… is not a very good thing to be associating with Wilbur soot rn. Even though it’s the c! And completely separate from the cc. Also the writing is kind of bad,,,

Siren (1)

Pros: I have a good chunk of the story written out, and he will be referred to as “siren” and not “Wilbur” (but not for the entire story). Siren is also not affiliated with the cc (someone else’s creation).

cons: I have hit a complete roadblock with it and am struggling to figure out how tf I should progress the plot. Also, siren in his civilian form looks a lot like the cc (similar argument to chefbur). Also, it has similar themes to the revivebur story (even though they aren’t as pronounced). Siren is a literal criminal (supervillain) whose literal murder/arson/treason/etc charges are overlooked (even though he’s still a respectful person), and that might not sit right for some rn.

Siren (2):

Pros: idk really his name isn’t going to be mentioned for the first few parts (only referred to has “siren” and not Wilbur)

cons: I have some very specific ideas for this series, and I love them a lot (even though they deal with some dark topics), but do not know how to string them together yet. May take a very long time. Also neither Siren nor the reader are very good people (but they try their best. And the reader improves a little). May take longer than the faebur one.

Lmanbur

Pros: no morality discussed. Just two idiots in love. I have a sequence of events written out, so I won’t struggle to figure out what comes next. ..

cons: ..however I will struggle to find how to put it into cohesive paragraphs since the outline is pretty barebones. Lmanbur is another character originally created by the cc, and his appearance follows a similar path as chefbur and civilian siren (I may give Lmanbur some pointy ears though). Also. The fic has no nsfw at all, but it is definitely a lot spicier than whatever I’ve posted on this blog, and I’m. Not sure if it belongs on this blog. Please reach out to me if you are an ADULT and willing to be a sensitivity reader to discern whether it’s actually suggestive or just my Catholic upbringing.

With that being said….,,,,

#sweaty “writes” #c!wilbur #c!wilbur x reader #c wilbur #Idk what other tag sto add please tell me

[bookishphysicsgirl]

Hello, I have a genuine question, especially for trans people since you are the most affected, regarding Harry Potter fan fiction.

I'll try to tag this appropriately so that anyone who doesn't wish to see any content regarding to this doesn't, but if it accidentally slipped through I'm sorry, just tell me what else to tag it as so it will be better blocked and I will.

Obviously Joanne is a delusional b**** and I will never be touching anything she writes or sells ever again, since it would be giving her funds to actively harm trans lives.

The only question I have is regarding fanfiction because I've been seeing many arguments about this and still can't quite make my mind up about what side is right, but the thing is none of the people I saw making statements about this were trans, so I would very much appreciate your opinion since I believe that your thoughts are the most valid in this situation.

The first argument is that HP fanfiction while not directly supporting J.K. and oftentimes going directly against her beliefs is still giving visibility to her work and ultimately attracting people to the world of HP that normally wouldn't have exactly because of the effort put in to fix the mistakes of the original text.

I think the way they put it was that she is "profiting off the free labor of the folk she despises".

I actually see how this can be true and it makes a lot of sense to me since, for example, when All The Young Dudes blew up on tik tok a lot of people who might otherwise not have done so started buying HP merch and getting it farther up in the trends, even though ATYD by itself is a very queer-positive work.

The second argument is that fanfiction is not directly supporting her and it is incredibly healing and supporting for many people struggling. Not only that it can be a platform to expose her wrongdoings and stop the fandom from becoming a home ground for hate groups.

The argument went somewhere along the lines of if a child receives the HP books from a relative unaware of all the issues and likes it and then goes looking for more content, if the fan content made by the queer community isn't there to receive them all they will be met with is people who reaffirm Joanne's toxic opinions and it could be extremely harmful to those children, especially if they are queer themselves and aren't aware yet.

I myself have gone to HP fanfiction when I was questioning my sexuality and when I was depressed and it helped me immensely to understand what was happening to me and that it was ok and normal.

Trans protagonists in HP fanfiction also helped me understand gender theory better and what might be going on in trans lives and how to be more respectful (disclaimer: I am a cis woman so I cannot speak for trans people, I am merely stating that it helped me understand).

Both of these arguments make a lot of sense to me, and I can't see which one would be more correct. On the one hand I think that stopping everyone from even interacting with fandom might be a bit extreme, on the other I can't help but worry whether that is just me creating an excuse to keep enjoying things I like.

I don't feel like I enjoy HP fanfiction for nostalgia, especially since I openly recognize that both the books and the movies were actually a bit boring and not that well written and haven't been able to re-read them since I was 12. I think it has a lot more to do with the healing factor of being able to disassociate to another world and see stories that reflect mine and see people feeling the same things I do. But I am more than willing to stop if it is in fact causing more harm than good, especially since the last thing I want is for Joanne to receive clout she does not deserve.

Either way, I just wanted to know your opinions in all of this, since as I mentioned before I've only ever seen cis people arguing about it (mostly on tik tok).

Thank you so much for reading all of this and thank you if you reply.

(note: I will not be tagging this with trans tags because I know that a lot of people can feel unsafe when met with content regarding Harry Potter)

#harry potter #fanfiction #hp fanfiction #fanfic #jk rowling #fuck jkr #fandom

[will80sbyers]

I like how gay mike truthers claim bi mike truthers have 'no evidence' when the majority of their evidences are coming from reaches like mike forcing himself to kiss el while imagining will's painting on the wall, mike supposedly only loving el whenever she is 'bald' even though he was mesmerized by her when she was feminine, mike supposedly not giving a fuck about el at all when they first met even though he insisted on protecting her and they formed a quick connection from the start, pointing out that conan poster supposedly proves mike is gay while ignoring the woman on the poster collectively because it doesn't suit the intended take that mike also might be attracted to women, etc. and do not get me started on all the 'closets' thing and minuscule details like shades of the sun shining on mike's shoulder that points to him being gay which do not even point to a specific sexuality info even if they are taken as non-hetero mike evidence.

but apparently thinking mike might be into girls and loving el/being attracted to her is a reach even though the show uses explicit scenes to prove that they had/have genuine feelings each other both in the scripts and on the screen, them being promoted as a couple for years in an outside the show with explicit scenes that show their attraction. not to mention how mike's positioned in the love triangle which is already a BISEXUAL love triangle in itself and the love triangle thing is what can point to mike being attracted to both el and will but ultimately going with will because they are more fit for each other. and people collectively ignoring the evidence that mike is paralleled to the other canonically bisexual character in the show aka Vickie because it doesnt count as a 'proof' apparently is honestly astounding.

Sorry not sorry for saying this but gay mike truthers need to get a grip and bi mike truthers have the right to speak up against biphobia and ridiculous takes in the fandom because it is getting tiring and annoying af.

Luckily not all gay Mike truthers are like that, there are many that acknowledged those things and still consider bi mike a possibility and those are the people I personally want around

but yeah that's not a valid argument because it's just not true, I think everyone should be allowed to make all the reaches they want personally I am the first that enjoys and does that sometimes, but at least don't say we "have no proof" ... I think we just think the gay Mike proof is not convincing enough for us and the bi mike is more convincing because we have a different point of view on Mike's character... That's it, a different interpretation.

And I mean... We even have literally a script that pretty much explicitly states that Mike liked El romantically in s2... so it's a really weird take to say bi mike truthers don't have any reason to think he's bi... It's confusing to me how people can seriously believe that tbh

And as I said many many many times you can even not believe the script or think they changed stuff if you want, that's not a problem for me because nothing is confirmed yet and who knows, maybe they did decide to make Mike gay after s2... I have no idea because I'm not the writers!

I just would like for people to stop being randomly biphobic in the tag because that does trigger me and makes me feel like I can't enjoy byler in peace without feeling like I have to defend my whole identity when I'm reading the tag

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #el hopper byers #ask #bi mike wheeler

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Homophobia feat. Queer Teacher Alliance

Prompts: hi, sorry if requests aren’t open, but you wrote a fic called Homphobia feat. A Two Hour Math Test and it’s honestly been one of my comfort fics, and I wanted to request something kind of similar? A human au where one of the sides (preferably patton but you can do whichever character you want!) accidentally outs himself while arguing with a homophobic teacher about LGBTQ stuff and starts getting bullied for it by the students and the teacher. The other sides (actually good teachers) find him having a breakdown and comfort him and stand up for him against the other teacher, and it’s just emotional hurt/comfort and validation all around. Absolutely no pressure to do this if you don’t want to/it’s too similar to the other one /gen! wishing you a lovely day :D - anon

hello there! first not-anon fic request so I'm kind of panicking a little but it's fine!! anyway, I've recently reread Homophobia feat. a 2-hour Math Test, and it's been really comforting for a person who grew up and went to school in a very rural part of America (eugh republicans everywhere). I was wondering if you would be willing to write another work in that realm of Virgil suddenly having this insanely elaborate (insanely gay) support system that he didn't think was possible. or him turn table-ing on that support system and helping them with their problems. idk just something I've been thinking about! love ur stuff and I hope you'll take my request into consideration!! <3 - vinnbee631

Read on Ao3

Warnings: homophobic language, outing, panic attacks/anxiety attacks

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 5851

Listen, all high school days suck, this one was just shaping up to suck more than literally all of the other ones ever. Namely, he was stuck in a class where not only was there a homophobic argument going on—as in, both sides are being homophobic and just debating on how best to be homophobic—but the teacher is doing literally fucking nothing to stop them. 

Okay, first off? There’s actually nothing wrong with not being straight. Big mind shock there to some people apparently, but yeah, nope. Nothing wrong with not wanting to get into a relationship or have sex with the opposite gender. 

Second, there’s no curing it because there’s nothing wrong with not being straight. There aren’t some fucking factory settings you can just reset to default and everything’s all heterosexual and cisgender again. 

And third, there’s never a good reason to be using slurs in a classroom. Never. 

All things that Virgil would love to say out loud but he’s currently seething a bit too much at no one else saying a goddamn thing. Especially the teacher. Come on, the teacher is supposed to be the one educating everyone, that includes educating bigots on their ignorance so they can, you know, not be ignorant and bigoted anymore? Ring any bells literally at all?

Apparently not because it’s been ten fucking minutes of this shit and the teacher hasn’t even so much as blinked. 

Eventually, Virgil gets fucking sick of this—fair—and raises his hand to ask to go to the bathroom. Which is another stupid thing about high school because why in the fuck should I have to ask to go to the bathroom? What else am I gonna do, fucking piss myself in the middle of the classroom? Hell no. 

The teacher waves offhandedly and he gets up to go, but not before one of them catches sight of him leaving and decides, like an idiot, to try and involve him in the conversation. 

“Hey, Virgil! Virgil, you think I’m right, don’t you?”

“Uh, I haven’t super been paying attention.” Which is true. 

“Where’re you going? Class isn’t over yet.”

Oh, don’t I know it. “Bathroom.”

“You’re not going to meet up with someone for, y’know, reasons are you?”

There are somehow more discreet and much better ways to ask if someone in your high school class is going to hook up with someone in the bathroom, and Virgil would prefer hearing literally any of them right now. 

“Oh my god, Kyle, you can’t just say something like that.”

Thank you, other homophobe. 

“Besides, Virgil would never be gay. He’s a good person!”

Okay, back to fuck you, other homophobe. 

“You can’t just blame sexuality on morality! You can’t just automatically assume all bad people are going to be gay or that all good people aren’t gay!”

That on its own as a sentence? Fine. Sure. Whatever. In the context of this conversation? Virgil really wants to throw a desk at Kyle’s head. He tries to just continue out of the classroom, but Kyle catches him by the sleeve and he grits his teeth. 

“Dude, seriously I’m just trying to use the bathroom. Lemme go.”

“Wait, wait, hold on, you gotta convince Leslie that I’m right.”

Virgil doesn’t have to do shit. 

“Look,” Leslie says like she’s talking to a person incapable of understanding any sort of logic, “if you make bad choices, you just have to recognize why they’re bad and then you’ll come to your senses enough not to do it anymore. If you just give someone the space and support they need to understand why the choices they’re making are bad for them, they’ll realize that they need to stop making those choices.”

“You do realize that most of them don’t give a shit about what’s good or bad, right? They like it, they enjoy it, they’re not gonna want to change. You can’t just make someone change their sexuality, that’s not how it works.”

Again, single sentences by itself? Fine. Hell, Virgil might say something similar. But right now? The way it’s being used? Kyle’s face really looks like it needs a desk in it right now. 

“Virgil, you agree with me, right?” 

No, Leslie, I sure the fuck don’t. 

“If gay people would just…understand that their lifestyle is unsustainable and unsatisfying, they wouldn’t be gay anymore. It’s the same with alcohol and drugs and all that stuff. If you understand why it’s bad for you, you won’t do it anymore.”

Virgil blinks once. Twice. 

You ever just…need a moment to process how much stupid someone just said to you? Like you need to take a second to look at the massive suitcase in front of you before deciding it’s too much to unpack and just throwing it all in the dumpster?

“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard,” Kyle says—which is fair— “gay people are criminals. They’re breaking the law and they should be punished for it,” which is not fair. 

“Actually,” Virgil says, still trying to tug his sleeve away, “it is legal now. Gay marriage is legal, Kyle.”

“Yeah, but so was slavery at one point. Doesn’t make it right.”

“Did you just compare gay marriage to slavery and think it was a good comparison?”

Kyle waves his hand like that just dismisses Virgil’s very good point about false equivalence. “And it’s against religious law too.”

“You do realize that we live in a secular state, right?”

“What’s that mean?”

“There’s a separation of church and state. Religion doesn’t govern, it doesn’t make the laws. We have religious freedom for a reason. And there are plenty of other religions in the country that—“

“Okay, okay, but like, it’s still wrong.”

“Why?”

Kyle looks at him strangely. “Dude, why are you so upset?”

“I dunno, maybe because both of you are being idiots? There’s nothing wrong with being gay!”

“There’s nothing wrong with people who are gay, no,” Leslie says quickly, as if he’s agreeing with her, “but if they made better choices then—“

“You’re wrong too,” Virgil says, “being gay isn’t a choice. You don’t just wake up and choose to be gay.”

“Hah! See?”

“I’m not agreeing with either of you, you’re both wrong. Now I really need to pee so if you’ll excuse me—“

“Dude, just tell us why you’re so upset about this and we’ll—“ 

He sees the moment Kyle’s eyes widen and his sleeve is let go like it’s gonna burn him. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head, “no, no, no, you can’t be, we’ve—we’ve shared a locker room, there’s no way.”

“What are you talking about, Kyle? I told you, there’s no way Virgil’s gay, he’s a good person.”

“What part of sexuality isn’t morality did you not get,” Kyle hisses, “he’s—oh my god, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Virgil, just tell him you’re not gay.” Leslie looks up at him. “You’re not, right? You’re not gay, are you?”

Now, see, here’s what Virgil should do. He should just shake his head and tell them they’re both fucking idiots and go to the bathroom. He should be like ‘that’s none of your goddamn business’ and leave. Hell, maybe he should just say that no, he’s not gay, so they’ll let him get out. 

He doesn’t do any of those things. He just stands there. 

“Oh goodness,” Leslie mumbles like she’s about to faint, “no, no, Virgil, you can’t.”

“Get the hell away from me,” Kyle spits, shoving himself into another chair, “get your goddamn hands off me.”

“You grabbed me,” Virgil points out, “I was just trying to leave.”

“Virgil, Virgil, sit down—“

“Don’t fucking tell him to sit down! I don’t want that anywhere near me!”

“Excuse me,” the teacher says, finally, like he’s just pulled his head out of his goddamned ass, “you three need to be quiet. Virgil, if you’re going to the bathroom, go.”

“Go and don’t come back,” Kyle spits, “I don’t want any of your gay shit near me.”

See, now, Virgil expects the teacher to, you know, maybe tell him off for swearing, at least? 

“…Kyle, it’s not nice to be throwing around accusations like that.”

“It’s not an accusation if it’s true!” 

The teacher looks up at Virgil. Virgil looks back at him. 

Come on, man, just…just don’t be a piece of shit. 

“…Virgil, when you return, why don’t you and I take a walk down to the counselor’s office so we can discuss your…mental health. I understand that high school is a very challenging time—“

Virgil tunes out the rest of whatever the fuck the teacher is spouting because oh my fucking god. He turns around and flees to the safety of the hallway. 

Fucking go. Doesn’t matter where just fucking get the fuck out of this place and away from those assholes before you die. 

His heart is fucking pounding and he wants to slam his head into the wall until he gets their stupid fucking voices out of his head and he hates this, he hates this. 

He doesn’t know where his feet are taking him but a chill breeze tells him he’s near the east wing. The science classrooms and art classrooms are over here. They keep the windows open for the fumes. Right. That’s where he is. That’s all the way on the other side of the school. Great. Fun. This is fine. 

He sinks into a crouch near one of the corners out of sight of the rest of the hallway. His lungs still aren’t cooperating. This is fine. This is fine. This is fine. 

He curls himself into a ball. He pulls his hoodie tightly around him. He yanks on the strings until he can feel the hood digging into his head. 

If he just stays here, if he stays a little bad where no one can find him, he’ll be safe. 

“Whoa, hey, pretty sure you can’t be here, bud.”

Nope. No more teachers. He’s just gonna stay still and not move. 

“C’mon, you don’t want detention, I don’t wanna write you up, let’s just get you back to where you need to go, okay?”

There’s a hand on his shoulder that’s trying to get him to look up and Virgil doesn’t care anymore, he’d rather be in detention than go back to his class right now. 

“Hey, it’s—wait, V?”

That’s Mr. Dagenheart, isn’t it? He’s the art teacher, right. Okay. Probably not gonna get dragged off to the principal right away. 

“V, can you look at me?”

Virgil peels himself up from where his face is plastered in his knees and stares up at Mr. Dagenheart. There’s a green streak across his mustache. 

“You…got paint,” he mumbles in a ruined voice, raising a trembling hand to tap his upper lip. 

Mr. Dagenheart just stares down at him. “V, you look awful.”

“…’anks.”

“No, wait, what happened? C’mon, come up off the floor, it’s even grosser than me. C’mere, come in here, come talk to me.”

Virgil lets himself get scraped off the floor and helped into the art room, sat on a stool as Mr. Dagenheart blusters around trying to find a cup that hasn’t got paint or paint thinner in it. Eventually there’s a clean plastic cup shoved gently into his hands as he tries to get the shaking back under control. 

“Drink up, it’s safe. Promise. Got a fresh one just for you.” 

“Thanks.”

Mr. Dagenheart watches as he drains the cup, quickly filling it up with more and setting it on the table. “Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing all the way over here? I’m not supposed to catch sight of you until after lunch when you and your other gremlins go bother Mackenzie next door.”

“I, um…”

How in the fuck is he supposed to explain what just happened?

“…I was trying to go to the bathroom.”

“Bathroom ain’t over her, V.”

“I know.”

“Did you get lost? Did you have a panic attack?”

“…kind of?”

Mr. Dagenheart nudges him gently. “I’m only gonna be able to do so much if you don’t tell me what’s going on, V.”

Virgil toys with the plastic cup, one of the edges almost tearing under his fingers. “I’m…I’m not bad, am I?”

“Are you bad? Whoa, hey, no, no, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly, reaching out to put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “I just…you just surprised me, that’s all. No, V, you’re not bad.”

“I’m not a bad person?”

Mr. Dagenheart frowns but shakes his head. “No, Virgil, you’re not a bad person. Why are you asking me that?”

“E-even if I’m…if I’m gay?”

Silence. 

Fuck. I fucked it up. I fucked it up so bad and now I’m gonna have to run again. 

“Virgil,” Mr. Dagenheart says, looking more serious than he’s ever seen him before, “you are not a bad person. You are not a bad person, do you hear me? It doesn’t matter what your sexuality is, you are not a bad person. Being gay does not make you a bad person, you understand?”

Virgil just nods, a bit dazed by the sudden intensity. 

“Can you say that with me?”

“Being gay d-doesn’t make me a bad person,” Virgil stammers, “but—“

“No buts, V. Being gay doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No, Virgil. Being gay isn’t bad. It’s just gay. Nothing wrong with being gay. Promise.”

And to his absolute horror, Virgil sniffles. 

“Oh, hey, c’mere, come gimme a hug. Oh, hey…” Mr. Dagenheart gathers him in for a gross and messy hug and it’s the best thing that’s happened to Virgil all day. “There, that’s better, right?”

“‘M sorry for—for crying you.”

“Hey, it’s my job to be gross, I don’t care.” He pulls back and pushes the cup of water at him. “Drink. I’ll get you a tissue.”

One tissue box and several cups of water later, Virgil rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath. Mr. Dagenheart watches him carefully, nodding when Virgil glances over at him. 

“Did someone say something to you? Is that why—“ he waves a hand at Virgil’s general messiness— “this happened?”

“…yeah.”

“Can I call your homeroom teacher? He should know about it.”

“W-wait, what?”

“Virgil, if someone’s being openly homophobic, I need to tell someone. Especially since it led to you getting hurt.”

“B-but I’m fine.” Mr. Dagenheart gives him a look. “…do you really have to tell him?”

“I should,” he says, softer now, “but we can wait a bit if you’d rather do that.”

Virgil toys with the strings on his hoodie. “…you can tell him.”

“Thanks.” Mr. Dagenheart picks up the phone and dials a number. “Mr. Everheart? Patton, yeah, listen, can you come down to my room? Need to talk to you about something. Okay, great.”

He hangs up the phone and turns back to Virgil. 

“He’ll be down in a moment.”

“And he—“ god, this is such a stupid question— “he’ll be—he’ll be fine?”

Mr. Dagenheart rests a hand on his shoulder again. “Yeah, V. He’s gonna be on your side about all this, I promise.”

Virgil nods, his eyes on the door. 

“Hey.” Mr. Dagenheart nudges him. “I’m really proud of you, okay? Coming out is really hard, especially when it’s like this. Thank you for being willing to share this with me.”

“…didn’t feel fair not to?”

Mr. Dagenheart shakes his head. “It’s your life, Virgil. Your moment. Your coming out. There’s no shame in staying in the closet if it isn’t safe to be out of it.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

A few seconds later, there’s a knock on the door, swinging open to reveal a concerned-looking Mr. Everheart who only grows more concerned when he sees Virgil sitting there, very obviously have-been-crying.

“Virgil? What’s going on, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine, I just—“ goddamnit, why is your soft concern making me cry again— “I jus’—I—“

“Hey, it’s alright, kiddo, you take your time.” Mr. Everheart rubs his back as he glances up, watching Mr. Dagenheart push more water toward him. “What happened? Panic attack?”

“Do you want me to tell him,” Mr. Dagenheart asks quietly, “or do you want to?”

Virgil shuffles, pulling his hoodie a bit tighter around his shoulders refusing to meet their gazes. 

“Got outed during a homophonic argument,” he mumbles, “went…bad.”

“Oh, kiddo, I’m so sorry that happened. Are you okay?” Virgil just shrugs. “Yeah, well, I suppose that’s fair.”

“Better now.”

“I’m glad.”

“…do I still have to go back to class?”

“No,” Mr. Dagenheart says just as Mr. Everheart says, “goodness, no.”

“Yay.”

“It’s almost lunch, anyway,” Mr. Everheart continues, glancing at the clock, “if Mr. Dagenheart doesn’t mind us invading his classroom a little longer…”

“God no. Stay all you want. I don’t have anyone in here until last period.”

“Thanks.”

He pats Virgil’s shoulder. “’Course. Do you want to get your lunch? You hungry?”

“Not really. ‘M fine.”

“You should try and eat something,” Mr. Everheart encourages, “just to keep your strength up.”

“Maybe later.”

“Alright, later it is, then.” 

Virgil has a sneaking suspicion he’s gonna get held to that. 

“Who was it,” Mr. Everheart continues, “that was involved?”

“…um…”

“I get not being a snitch,” Mr. Dagenheart says, “but these people are using homophobic language on campus and they’re bullying you. That’s not acceptable, Virgil.”

“No, it’s not. And I can’t let it happen. Especially if they start doing it more.”

Virgil chews his lip. “K-Kyle and Leslie,” he mumbles, “a-and…”

“And…?” Mr. Everheart prompts. “I can keep your name out of it, if that’ll make you feel better.”

“…the, um…the teacher kinda…joined in too.”

“He did fucking what?”

“Remus,” Mr. Everheart hisses even though the hand on Virgil’s shoulder has tightened significantly, “language.”

“I’m not gonna give a shit about language if I’m getting told one of my colleagues is being homophobic,” Mr. Dagenheart seethes, “especially to a student!”

“Guys,” Virgil says a bit desperately, “it’s not—“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Virgil. This is a big deal and it’s not okay.”

“He’s right,” Mr. Everheart says, “this is unacceptable, Virgil.”

He gentles a bit when he sees how obviously upset Virgil is about all of this. 

“Hey,” he says, rubbing his back again, “thank you for telling us. We’re not going to bring your name into it when we take it up with the Dean, but you know we can’t let this happen again, right?”

Virgil nods, feeling tears well up behind his eyes again as he fiddles with the empty plastic cup. Mr. Everheart makes a sympathetic noise. 

“Do you want a hug?”

“…sure.”

Why does he give such good hugs? This isn’t fair. I’m just gonna cry again. Nope, no more crying over those assholes, they don’t deserve it. 

“There’s another sink in the back,” Mr. Dagenheart suggests, taking the now-mangled cup from him, “it’s cleaner. There are towels back there too, clean ones. Why don’t you go wash your face off? It might feel better.”

“O-okay.” He glances up with a watery smile. “Are you gonna wash the paint off too?”

“I think I like it, actually. Makes my face look more interesting.”

Virgil manages a laugh as he heads to the back room, listening to the two of them start talking quietly. Okay. Okay, this is fine. This actually turned out…kind of okay. Mr. Dagenheart seems pissed but not at him and Mr. Everheart seems like he wants to help and not make a big deal out of it. Good. These are both good things. He can work with this. Everything might actually turn out okay.

He turns on the tap and shoves up his sleeves, splashing the cold water on his face and dabbing it off with a towel. He’s just about to hang it back over the rail when he hears the door open again. 

“There you are, I thought we’d have to search the whole building for you!”

“He left a note saying he’d be down here, it wasn’t exactly a stellar deduction.”

“Mm, and we all know who the expert at those is.”

Nope. Nevermind. He takes it back. This is not okay. This is very much no okay. No okays here.

He knows who just walked in. 

That was Mr. Prince, Mr. Mackenzie, and Mr. DeLuca. Shit. 

What in the fuck are they all doing here? Do they all meet up for lunch or some shit? Fuck, that’s exactly what’s going on, isn’t it? They’re all here for their lunch break and that means Virgil’s gonna have to find somewhere else to hide for the rest of the day and shit, he’s not gonna be able to make it out of this room without anyone noticing, is he?

Fuck, why did it have to be them?

‘Cause Mr. Prince is gonna wanna know exactly what’s going on and he’s—god, extra doesn’t even begin to cover it and he may or may not be part of the reason Virgil realized he was gay in the first place, how in the fuck is he supposed to explain what’s going on?

And Mr. Mackenzie is super fucking serious and no-laughing all the time, he’s not gonna react well to Virgil being all emotional and crying and being upset about things, not when he’s got work to do and he has his class later, fuck. 

And Mr. DeLuca is fucking scary. Fuck, he’s given Virgil panic attacks before, he fucking eats students alive if they try and pull dramatics in his classroom, he’s so fucked. 

“What are you doing here, anyway? Normally, we’re the ones who come to meet you.”

Don’t tell them I’m here. Please, for the love of god, don’t tell them. 

“I got called down,” Mr. Everheart says, “Remus wanted to talk about something.”

“Oh?” Mr. Prince must pull out a stool or something. “Do tell.”

No. Don’t tell. Don’t say shit.

“Whatever it is, surely it can wait until we’re at lunch,” Mr. DeLuca says smoothly—yes, please, leave so I can run out of here— “now, if you don’t mind, shall we?”

“Gimme a second.”

Virgil has about two seconds before Mr. Dagenheart appears around the corner and shuts the door to the back room, coming over and taking the towel from his hands. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, “look at me, Virgil.”

The others are still here. They could hear him. 

“Hey.” Virgil’s eyes snap to his. “There. Good. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Breathing is stupid. 

“Come on, in and out, you can do it.”

He can hear them talking through the door. Did Mr. Everheart just say there’s a student back there? Shit, he did. They’re talking about it now. Fuck, why did they have to talk about it?

“Virgil,” Mr. Dagenheart says firmly, “you’re panicking. Come on, just focus on me. Breathe in…”

Slowly, Virgil lets him walk him through a breathing exercise, squeezing his hands to make sure he can still move them and everything. But Virgil can still hear the others talking so his gaze keeps darting to the side and eventually Mr. Dagenheart asks if he wants them kicked out.

“N-no, you’ve—you have lunch plans—“

“You’re more important than my damn lunch plans, Virgil, now do you want me to kick them out?”

“…can you just make them be quiet?”

And of course he goes right over to the door, throws it open, and yells: “all of you shut the fuck up, you’re making it worse.”

“That is not what I meant,” Virgil hisses when he comes back over looking way too pleased with himself. 

“Yeah, but I don’t get enough excuses to do that anyway. Now,” he says, reaching out to take his shoulders, “you doing okay? If you wanna hide in here for the rest of the day that’s fine with me, we just gotta get some food in you first.”

As appealing as it sounds, it does smell like paint fumes in here and Virgil’s few remaining braincells would appreciate not being murdered. 

“Okay,” is the response he gets when he says as much—slightly edited, thank you— “do you wanna come back to the front now? You don’t have to tell ‘em anything, but they are gonna ask you what’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Aside from the fact that you’ve kinda obviously been having a panic attack—“ rude but okay— “they’re gonna care, Virgil. And they’ll be on your side too, okay?”

“…they will?”

“Yeah, V. Promise they will.”

“How obvious is it that I’ve been crying?”

“…listen I’m not a very good liar, V, but you do look okay.”

Virgil glances around for anything that might be vaguely a mirror and gives up, pulling his hoodie down to cover his shaking hands and following Mr. Dagenheart back to the front of the art room. 

As soon as he gets through the doorway and feels all of the eyes looking at him, though, he wants to shrivel up and disappear. 

“Virgil?” Oh, hey, Mr. Prince, what’s going on? “Virgil, is that you? Are you alright?”

No, as a matter of fact, I am most certainly not. “…yeah.”

“You don’t have to lie to us, Virgil,” comes Mr. DeLuca’s voice and Virgil isn’t quick enough to stop his flinch. 

“What’s happened,” Mr. Prince asks as really fucking warm hands land on his shoulders and steer him to a stool, “what’s wrong?”

“Let’s not overwhelm him,” he hears Mr. Dageheart hiss, “c’mon, Ro, don’t be an idiot.”

“Oh, y’know,” Virgil tries, aiming for casual nihilism and missing by a few major philosophical paradigm shifts, “getting homophobic comments hurled at me, trying not to have an existential breakdown, just your every day high school things.”

“Someone was using homophobic language to bully you?” Mr. Prince’s grip suddenly tightens on his shoulder. “Did they out you as well?”

“…kinda outed myself by accident, but…”

“No, Virgil that’s not—look at me.” 

He looks up because he’s a fucking idiot and sees Mr. Prince staring at him all soft and concerned and he is going to die, this is how. 

“Do not ever blame yourself for other people’s ignorance,” he says firmly, holding eye contact, “you are not to blame for their shortcomings and it is not your job to make them understand just how little they know. That’s not your responsibility nor should you feel like it is.”

“…okay.”

“He’s right,” Mr. DeLuca says and since fucking when has he been that soft, “don’t spend your time trying to make other people better, it’s a thankless job with no reward.”

“…aren’t you a teacher?”

“I said better, not smarter.” But then he’s reaching over and carefully pulling Virgil’s collar away from his neck so it doesn’t choke him, and he’s still looking at him with a soft expression and Virgil is really confused, because why is Mr. DeLuca not skinning him alive right now, “Virgil, look at me.”

The concern is getting stronger, he can see it. 

“Hey,” he says and how is his voice getting softer, “hey, what’s the matter? What’s scaring you right now?”

“I believe we are.” 

Mr. Mackenzie, always there with the great observation skills. No wonder he’s a science teacher. 

“Give him some space,” he says, and sure enough everyone except Mr. Prince backs up a little, “let him breathe.”

“Hey,” Mr. Prince murmurs, still rubbing Virgil’s back, “it’s okay. We’re right here. You just take your time, okay? No rush.”

Fuck it. I just got outed, had homophobic insults hurled at me, and I’m currently in the middle of a bunch of mental breakdowns. I’m allowed to be a mess. 

Virgil buries his face in his hands and takes several heaving breaths, trying to focus more on the faint waxy smell of oil pastels and the warmth of the hand between his shoulders. There are a few quiet murmurs around him but other than that, he’s given the space he needs to process what’s going on. 

When he finally raises his head, it’s to a tissue box and another cup of water, both of which he accepts gratefully and tries to be a bit more of a person. When he’s gotten as far as he’s gonna get with that, Mr. Prince ruffles his hair and smiles at him. 

Not now, gay panic. Please for the love of fuck not now. 

“Virgil,” Mr. Mackenzie says, also speaking softly, what the fuck is this, “aside from my class, what else do you have this afternoon?”

“Uh…a study period.”

“Are any of you free this last period?”

“I am,” Mr. DeLuca says, “I’ve got one class and that’s it.”

“I would not be opposed to you skipping class today,” and what in the actual good fuck is happening, who are you and what have you done with my science teacher, “considering this is just to be a recap mainly for students who failed coursework for the last week and your scores were exemplary.”

“I—uh—what?”

“He’s saying there’s no reason for you to sit next to homophobes if you don’t want to,” Mr. Dagenheart says, “and so you can spend the first period here with me—if you want, and then Janus’ll take you for the second one.”

“Or we can go see Dr. Picani and see if he’ll write you a note to let you go early.”

Hold on. Back up. 

Slow down. 

“What’s going on?”

“You’ve just been through a traumatizing experience,” Mr. Mackenzie says, “and therefore are not in an opportune place to learn or benefit in any way from school. The solution I’m proposing is that you spend the rest of the day away from any of the students who could harm you further, be that spending time with Mr. Dagenheart and Mr. DeLuca, or by being excused for the rest of the day.”

Virgil blinks. Okay, yeah, that makes sense, but… “Why?”

“Because your well-being should come before your academics.” He tilts his head when Virgil stares at him like he’s grown two. “What’s that look for?”

“I dunno,” he says warily, “something about one teacher being homophobic and then a whole bunch of them being weirdly out-of-character supportive.”

“A teacher was part of this?”

“Name, Virgil,” Mr. DeLuca says firmly, “now.”

“Don’t scare him,” Mr. Mackenzie chides, seemingly focusing on the second part of that, “Virgil, if we have behaved or acted in any sort of way to make you believe that we would not support you for something like this, we deeply apologize.”

“It’s our job to make students feel like they have a safe learning environment,” Mr. Everheart says—right, he’s here too.

“Though I do want to know the teacher’s name,” Mr. Prince adds. 

“…why are you guys doing this?”

Mr. Prince looks at him for a second, before a small smile comes to his face. “Raise your hand if you’re gay.”

Virgil’s eyes widen as every single one of their hands goes up. 

“Virgil,” he prompts gently, “did you hear me?”

“Do not pressure someone to come out,” Mr. Dagenheart hisses, “what is wrong with you, Ro?”

“Right, right, sorry.”

“N-no, no, I—“ Virgil slowly raises his hand too— “I got it.”

“See?” Mr. Mackenzie smiles. “We’re with you, Virgil.”

“And whoever that teacher is,” Mr. DeLuca says in his scary voice, “he most certainly will be taught a lesson of his own.”

The cheesy villain line makes Virgil snort as he lowers his hand. “Thanks, guys.”

“Think nothing of it.” Mr. Dagenheart taps the table. “Now, I need food and I’m pretty sure everyone else does too.”

“Virgil, did you bring a lunch?”

“…nope.”

“Great, what’s your favorite kind of pizza?”

“My what now?”

“Thursday is pizza day,” Mr. Prince says by way of explanation as Mr. Mackenzie starts typing on his phone, “and it’s not my week to pay.”

“Excuse you?”

“No, I looked at the calendar, I’m next week.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hey, no, wait, I paid last week, so it is Ro’s week.”

“It is not!”

Mr. DeLuca rolls his eyes fondly as the others dissolve into bickering, beckoning a baffled Virgil over to him. “Are you alright, now?”

“…still a bit confused and upset, but…yeah? I think so? I mean, pizza sounds good.”

“I mean it, Virgil,” Mr. DeLuca says, reaching out to ruffle his hair, “if anyone ever says something like that to you again, I don’t care who it is. You come and you tell one of us, do you understand?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

“You…you really don’t mind me being in your classroom at the end of the day?”

“Of course not, sweetie.”

What the fuck—why are petnames happening? Oh, shit, I’m crying again. Oh, fuck, that’s why. Shit. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Mr. DeLuca murmurs as he slides the tissue box back over, “everything’s going to be okay.”

Maybe…maybe yeah. Maybe it will. Maybe this day won’t be so bad after all. 

Maybe this day is going to be pizza with his cool gay teachers. Maybe it’s going to be spending one period helping Mr. Dagenheart go through some of the old artwork from long-graduated students to decide what to put up on the wall and what to toss. Maybe it’s going to be spending the other with Mr. DeLuca who is secretly a big dorky goofball who likes bad math puns and the same science fiction TV shows that Virgil does. 

Maybe today’s gonna be okay. 

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[lunar-years]

I think that's a stupid direction to take if that's how the writers decide to bring roy and keeley back together. They don't need to show how a different relationship is worse for her, why not make her realize she just wasn't ready for something new so soon. Why demonize jack. I know the pairing is beloved, but their circumstances didn't change, just shoving them back together, because another relationship was horrible is boring. I hope they are more creative than that

& I think those are totally valid opinions to have!

For me several things are true (and sorry in advance because I know this is going to be a long one):

Narratively, Jack was always set up as Keeley's rebound. To be 100% honest I never once expected this relationship--which started with a kiss .5 seconds after Keeley admitted her last breakup was both really hard and that she isn't over it, and oh by the way, she also has complicated feelings now about her breakup BEFORE that--was going to end in forever.

I also don't think Keeley was rushing into something she wasn't ready for! Keeley was looking to have fun and see where it could take her with a cool and really fit woman. Good for her!

I know a lot of people are preaching the "why can't a woman ever be single on these shows" discourse and I think that's another topic where it's complicated and it's always going to come down to the personal opinions and experiences of the viewer. For me (& for what it’s worth, I am a very single woman who is completely content to be very single) Keeley having three separate relationships in 3 seasons doesn't bother me a lick. Reason being: Keeley has never felt like a caricature portrayal of a woman; she's just a complex character who makes mistakes and good & bad choices and also happens to enjoy being in relationships and having sex!

I do not think the show is demonizing Jack. Now, the fandom may be; these "Jack is Keeley's Rupert" takes are frankly ridiculous, but that was not the argument the show was making. Rebecca was respectfully noting red flags according to her experiences, not saying "Jack is exactly like my piece of shit ex-husband" (the two are incomparable, because Jack and Keeley have been dating for what, a couple months? Rebecca was emotionally abused for years in a marriage. These are very different experiences, people.)

a person can have "red flag" traits and make manipulative choices (possibly without even realizing it) without automatically be a horrible abuser. it means the relationship likely isn't going to work out, and the person (in this case Jack) certainly has some things to work through, but it doesn't mean they're setting her up to be a Rupert-type villain.

If we want to talk seriously about female characters the show has butchered by needlessly demonizing, let's go back to Shandy, because yikes.

It's too early to know what they are doing with it, but I do not think the point of Jack was just to prompt Keeley to run right back to Roy. If it turns out that way, anon, I'll bite my words.

I don't think the writers are making jack/keeley a terrible toxic relationship, either. They worked through the love-bombing thing with solid communication, and next episode it seems like it will be an outside force who wrecks havoc on them, not Jack's actions (or at least not her actions alone).

The narrative point of Jack/Keeley (to me) was as a way of portraying Keeley making messy decisions to deal with her emotions and how it is only turning her life messier instead of allowing her to heal. It's about how she isn't letting herself process her feelings, while also demonstrating that she's still allowed to have fun and try to move on with someone new.

There isn't really any indication that they are going to throw Roy/Keeley back together? I agree that would be a weird angle, as they haven't (yet. I do fully believe the reckoning is coming) addressed any of their problems or the actual reason they broke it off (and I LOVE that they broke up, by the way. I'm so so glad it happened! Those two needed time to grow separately.)

What I will say is that Roy's arc this season has definitely been written better than Keeley's. I think the writers have made many more questionable choices with Keeley's storyline than anyone else's this season, and I wish several things had been better about it. There have been good concepts there, but unfortunately wavering execution. However, the Jack/Keeley part has been one of the elements to it that I haven't minded at all.

If this is truly the final season, at this point I am expecting Roy & Keeley (& Jamie) to all reconcile and end single as friends (personal preference-wise I'd be thrived with this. I do ship Roy/Keeley, but very specifically in the Roy/Keeley/Jamie way, lol). If this is not the final season, then it opens them up to a lot more re: putting Keeley & Roy back together in future. The season will still end with them all single, but as more of a setup for next season. I'm cool with it either way!

#sorry this is so ranty lol #kind of just a thought dump as I was thinking it through as I typed it #ted lasso #keeley jones #ted lasso spoilers #jack danvers #roy kent #asks

[seaweedstarshine]

Hi! Long time no yap but I've been really bothered by this thing and I know you're just the person I can go to with this (even if we don't always end up agreeing at times).

I got into a tiff with someone in a comments section of a post that was about Amy (Which character do you think deserved to become a villain? or something similar). They brought up Amy's abuse of her boyfriend. I may have tried to defend Amy (key word is tried. I am officially rubbish at debating) but then I may have said something? Because they said that I (and apparently a lot of other fans) was excusing Amy's abuse because of her trauma. It got me stumped because isn't young Amy's treatment of Rory rooted in her trauma? Did I miss the memo where we separate trauma and abuse? Am I missing something?

That statement bothered me a lot because if there's one thing I never want to do it's defend an abuser. So here I am, humbly asking and hoping to clear the muddy waters.

Your really confused and disturbed moot, Tia 💌

TIA!!!!! Thanks for the ask 💌 , and I send you all the hugs.

Discussion of abuse, trauma, ableism, infidelity, and unhealthy relationship dynamics beneath the cut.

(First off… while I really appreciate your faith in my explaining skills <3 <3 <3 my passion for traumatized characters and mentally ill+neurodivergent rights doesn't make me especially qualified to fully clear muddy waters especially not knowing the full context, but I feel you, and what follows is my informed perspective!)

Speaking generally first, harm done in media is best examined by the impact on the audience, with a different lens than harm done to real people. While relatable experiences in media can be useful and validating and incredibly important, you can’t be “defending an abuser” when the abuse is fictional. It's actually normal for traumatized/ND/mentally ill people to project onto mentally ill villains, when villains are the only significant representation for those stigmatized symptoms in a media landscape that excludes and demonizes us simply for existing. RTD can't stop people who hallucinate from reclaiming the Master's Drums and projecting onto the Master, for example — 90% of the best Doctor Who psychosis fic by psychotic authors is about the Master, whether RTD likes it or not. It's not true crime.

(This is speaking generally. Amy Pond is very much not the Master.)

Abuse is a behavior, and there can be many reasons for it, but reasons based in trauma don’t make it not abuse (some forms of generational trauma can propagate abusive parenting styles, when the parent thinks abusive parenting is normal, or lives entirely vicariously through their child). This absolutely should not be taken to mean trauma correlates with abusive behavior; rather that abusive behaviors from traumatized people are more likely to present in specific ways.

Abuse is also a targeted behavior, based in control — not consistently displayed C-PTSD symptoms as seen in Season 5 Amy Pond through many aspects of her life. Mental health symptoms don't become abuse just because they hinder one partner from meeting the other partner's needs. Any life event can do that.

Without knowing the context of the arguments, this is the aspect of their relationship I've seen you talk about before (which I also feel strongly about), and what I assume is what you were debating? So, here I will talk specifically in regard to Season 5.

We all know Amy — she's never attached to Leadworth because she never wanted to leave Scotland, no steady therapist because none of them stick up for her, can't stick with one job yet her first choice is a job that simulates intimacy because her avoidant behavior (a known trauma response) isn't sustainable to her wellbeing. Rory knows her fears of commitment stem from her repeated abandonments, it’s why he’ll always wait for her, and it's why he blames the Doctor “You make it so they don't want to let you down.”, who apart from having caused a lot of her trauma, has actively taken advantage of her being the “Scottish girl in the English village” who's “still got that accent,” because he wants to feel important, so yeah, I think interpreting Amy's issues (and how Amy and Rory transverse them) as Amy abusing Rory indicates a fundamental misunderstanding of their relationship, as well as a misunderstanding of the (raggedy) Doctor’s role in Amy’s formative self-image (which of course she works through in Season 6, but I am sticking to Season 5).

Abuse is always based in control. That just doesn’t fit here. While Amy's detachment from her real life includes things like calling Rory her “kind of boyfriend” (which she is upfront about to his face; differing commitment levels isn't abuse, though it can be a relationship red flag for both parties IRL) — her Season 5 disregard of Rory’s feelings occurs only in response to the fairytale embodiment of her trauma. It's never a response to Rory; it's a response to the Doctor, who stole her childhood and led her by the hand to her death. She cheats on Rory with the Doctor in her bedroom full of Doctor toys, drawings, models, she made from childhood to early adulthood.

(And yes, like many repeatedly-traumatized people, Amy is prone to being sensitive and reactive. Take her “Well, shut up then!” line in The Big Bang; but given Rory responds to this by hugging her, clearly he doesn’t take it as her actually dismissing him. He knows her better than that.)

And by no means do I meant to imply this is fair to young Rory, poor Rory, who's left struggling with the feeling that his role in her life is in competition with the role of her trauma (aka the Doctor). But not every unhealthy relationship dynamic is unhealthy because of abuse. Labelling Amy's treatment of Rory in Season 5 more accurately isn't the same as excusing her harmful choices — but making mistakes is part of being human, Amy's mistakes are certainly understandable, and she works through them out of love for Rory.

If there's one thing to say about Moffat women, it's that Moffat allows his female characters the same grace that the male characters *coughTENcough* have always had, to hurt and struggle and make realistic mistakes and overcome those mistakes and to heal without being demonized.

Amy isn't perfect, but she is a fully realized character, and her story gives us a resonant depiction of childhood trauma.

#abuse #rtd critical #anti rtd #im NOT really anti rtd but im tagging it that because some people block that tag and uhhhh this post strays into rtd critique #maybe he does regret how he wrote the master! we'll never know because rtd is very anti-admitting-his-own-mistakes #words by seaweed #anyways tia i am. SO relieved you’re not upset with me about our last disagreement? #i high key jumped to conclusions after the lack of reply to the last DM? so thank you for this ask it's great to hear from you #sorry you were in a debate about this! that sounds extremely awful. #anyway i'm gonna WAIT at least a week to tag Amy and Rory to avoid this showing up in the character tags right away haha #because I am KINDA scared the anti-media-literacy ppl will find this (I had to include the first part tho its important) #(lack of distinction between harm to audience *in fiction* and irl harm *to actual ppl* leads to problematic public apologies where- #-public figures apologize to fans they let down *instead* of the people they actually hurt. no it doesn't work like that) #(parasocial relationships are not more important than real victims agency or privacy) #editing to say..... yanno what? ive come to terms with not all the posts with the following tag been about the doctor #and I am planning to make a post at some point about the nd aspects of Amy+the Doctor's connection which this stuff IS relevant to soooooo #(eleventh) doctor is neurodivergent tag

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hello, i am a female that is 16 years old and I am confused about my type.

At first I thought that I was an introvert but i began to suspect that might be an extroverted because when I went out home and saw my relatives I would like to spend a lot of time near them and at school too, i wouldn't like to go out home but to see them i would agree everytime, at home i always prefer to stay at my room and not receive any person but i started to think that i could actually prefer to be near people(and not be drained) and i had not perceive it before because i live with a big family and couldn't notice the "neediness" on seeing people because i am always near them and actually just be an extroverted that like being alone sometimes. However, I keep doubting because in most case except my inner circle i am easily drained at interpersonal interactions for a long time.

Now , i am between infp and isfj.

I know that my age can make it hard because my brain is not mature yet but I perceived that people can show signs of their types when young and I think that discover my type while being young will help me grow and to discover my weaknesses and strengths.

My arguments for cognitive functions:

Isfj

Si-I am more propense to rely at something already experienced and "on the book" than unknown, I can fear the future without at least something already prepared to lead me.I also realize that I can need rules but not so much.But i don't care much about details.

Fe-I put only isfj at a Fe type because i was thinking if I am an introvert Fe type that even drained with people can keep small talk,do. things to make people comfortable(people pleaser), even when don't want to listen to people problems do it and can tell what they should do and take other problems to self. I can understand their emotions even when I never felt that and people say that I know exactly how they felt.At same time, I show my emotions for people because I want them to validate that, it's like I need to express my feelings to not only have their help but because demonstrate certain emotions or expressions make them happy or to find it funny. Many times i would do something for the greater good but i stop doing that after perceiveing that doing things because other did was nonsense.I can try to hide what I am feeling because can be shameful but mostly i can't hide it completely because what I feel it's visible and the reason too for people.I also care a lot of emotions and people and fi can make this too, and fe also have inner values.

Ti- ti tertiary is questioning the mechanics of a subject and thinking the smartest and most consistent thing to do, I found that in me when I had an interest in neuroplasticy I would want to know how the brain works and with others interest I would do the same and understand how would that thing work.

Ne-Actually, I think that if I have a ne, it's well developed or it's not inferior(this first is least probably to be correct), I spend time imagining scenarios in my head, but somehow I always have a project in my life to realize that vision, and I feel the urge to complete that.Other thing that make me think abou not inferior NE it's that when i am stressed i can think on the worst scenario ( 6 enneagram) but when stressed I am hard at people around me, I say hurtful things, I feel unusual, I don't eat or i eat a lot (it's a form of punishment), I procrastinate, my emotions are much harder, I listen to music and I explode at any "wrong" thing or flaw like when I single thing it's out of place, or even when it's clean already.

Fi-I have inner values that I can't disrespected them, they're my limits, when i helped people or did what they want they would abuse of my goodness. I don't thing I think disrespect myself.I understand my feelings easily and I don't absorb people feelings. I like being different. Beyond my argument for fe the only think against fi is that I don't share the same value that many fps I know do "embrace your uniqueness and don't change, be yourself ".Personally, i think that people should change if they're not happy with what they are.Well, I think other person can think like this too but think it doesn't make me not infp, I just perceived that the quote it's very common among fps like express their feelings with art, these are two things that I don't relate but I find so common between fp types.

Ne-When I make a essay take a time to ideas complete themselves in my mind, multiples ideas come but they form an unique story for accomplished the end I have in my mind.I imagine scenarios that make me happy and take a time for me to take a decision I always pick between two and I can be very creative (I mean in the way to have a lot of ideas).When something bad almost happen my mind create an What if scenario with a bad result and I don't control.I love abtract subjects and spend much time thinking about them and wanting to talk about them.And sure, I am not the athlete kid.

Si-Same with si dom, I rely on known information and even don't paying attention to details I used to have shameful moments replay on my mind randomly but thankful no more.

Te- I can do things very well if i want, I need to be useful, I feel bad if I don't accomplish something and need evidence to base facts.I don't procrastinate and do my tasks first, but sometimes I struggle to do my best at my task.

This part of fi and fe really make me think about fi, It can be because is one of my values and it's the right thing to do or because I really feel bad and feel the need to help them. I never related to fi "it's not my problem " but some things I do it's so Fi and others Fe. Fi can be people pleaser too, I know, and for a long time ago I was VERY people pleaser like i couldn't say "no" for example(bad example, i know) and I started to don't care to what people think anymore. I know the others types can do the same and try to "fit in" for example, but sometimes it's so easy to doesn't care and do what i want but mostly I find really hard, and do my best to do what people expect of me. I think if I am a fi user developing at the point of care much of others or fe developing ti and using logic to know for self that doesn't make sense do always what people want.But I don't fit the stereotype of fi or fe to avoid conflict. I know it's not a good behavior but when my sister starts to fight with me I find hard to stay quiet and I always answer back. Something tell me I am infp but I am not sure.

I am sorry for my english errors, english isn't my first language.

-----------------------

The evidence you've provided for auxiliary Fe is more convincing than dominant Fi, so Fe and Ti is more likely than Fi and Te. The evidence for Si and Ne in those functional stack positions is inadequate and unconvincing. Therefore, I conclude neither of the two types is the right fit. This means you should probably consider other types.

#typing #ask

[enbyleighlines]

Super touchy subject buuuut…

I’m unsure if this is a recent trend or I’m just getting exposed to it now, but I’m kinda sad about how much people are dumping on the “fantasy racism” trope.

Like I know the trope has problems but I also believe that it still has value.

The main arguments are that, 1. It usually doesn’t do a good job of portraying IRL racism due to the oppressed group usually being animalist, possessing superpowers, or overall just being a complete different species (think the x-men or zootopia), and 2. What’s the point of including racism in a fantasy story if you don’t have to?

And I’m not going to argue with the first point because it’s completely valid. It IS incredibly problematic.

The second point assumes that all fantasy stories are meant to be escapist fiction, which I disagree with. Fantasy stories can be escapist, but they don’t HAVE to be. Personally, my favorite fantasy stories involve forbidden gay or lesbian romances set in medieval-inspired times. For me, the appeal is that it feels familiar, yet removed enough from my life that the sympathy pain I feel is cathartic rather than overwhelming. Different stories appeal to different people for different reasons.

And again, I believe that, despite the inherent problematic nature of the fantasy racism trope, it still has value.

I am currently reading the first of a trilogy called The Broken Earth by N. K. Jemisin, and oh boy. The fantasy racism isn’t just a feature of the series; it’s the core theme. The oppressed group, called the oregenes, have the terrifying ability to manipulate thermal and kinetic energy in order to cause seismic events. They have this power from birth, and have to learn to control it at a young age, lest they slaughter people by complete accident. As such, they are treated in such horrific ways that I constantly find myself nauseated by reading the book.

They are even called by a slur, which despite being a complete made-up word, I find myself hesitant to type, because it is a clear reference to the n-word.

Is this a problematic use of fantasy racism? You can make the argument that, yes, because the people of the world have a legitimate reason to fear and oppress the oregenes. All stereotypes about certain ethnic groups being more dangerous or more prone to commit crimes are complete nonsense. But I feel like it makes the message even more abundant: Even if all the stereotypes are true, even if a group of people do pose a higher theoretical threat, that STILL doesn’t justify oppression.

Plus, isn’t it also a bit of a power fantasy? Isn’t that why so many queer folks are monsterfuckers? Don’t we see ourselves in the monster?

And yes, some people find empowerment in saying, “no, I am not a monster.” But some other people find empowerment in saying “so what if I am a monster? Am I not still deserving of love, respect, and humanity?”

I think we need to take a more nuanced approach. Fantasy racism works best, in my opinion, when it isn’t a one-to-one comparison to any one minority group. Rather, it works best when it functions as a theoretical thought experiment on the nature of prejudice as a whole. Yes, the oppressed group in a story might be a different species, with a completely different biology, but instead of thinking of it in terms of “real life racial/ethnic groups are all part of the same species, and therefore this portrayal of racism is irredeemably flawed,” we can ask questions like, “how does this explore how different groups might have opposing needs? What problems arise and what solutions can be found?”

It may be exaggerated, and it may not always line up with real life situations, but it’s still a valuable exercise on the nature of prejudice.

Sometimes, stripping abstract themes from their real-world contexts allows us to look at them with fresh eyes, to deepen our understanding while keeping that protective barrier of fantasy in place.

#long post #fantasy racism #i feel like maybe I’m setting myself up to be harassed #the broken earth trilogy #n k jemisin

[acourtofthought]

“The Phoenix is a mythical Greek bird often referred to as a Firebird”

“Firebird (Classification) Firebirds, also called Phoenixes, come in many shapes and sizes, and can be found around the world.”

We can all copy and paste from online websites to prove a point.

As for the rest of your rant, I have no idea what you’re taking about. I left you one comment highlighting all the Lucien and Vassa hints, as I was interested in your POV, but your reply to me was irate and kinda rude (so I wrote a lengthy rebuttal in response - purely out of the merit of debating). I didn’t call you a high schooler, I have no idea where you got that from ?

And sure, this is your blog. But your blog doesn’t exist in a vacuum - you are posting your opinions on an online, public platform using hashtags, meaning that it will be seen by other tumblr users. I found your blog because of your anti-Vassien posts, stuff like this; “He and Jesminda were an inferno while Vassa would feel like a lukewarm bath in comparison.” (As if we even know anything about Jesminda?).

It seems like you post a lot of antagonistic stuff yourself (literally the top photo is mocking elriel shippers with a juvenile buzz light year gif, saying there’s “no sign of intelligent life” lmao). A quick scroll shows that you’re not afraid to enter the spaces of other ships and reply to their stuff, telling them how they’re wrong (despite you saying in your recent reply to me, that you don’t see the point in debating with people who have opposing ships to you ???)

And tbh the fact that you’re confusing me with someone else who is calling you a highschooler, or whatever else - speaks to this. If your blog was purely pro-elucien content, and people came into your asks just to shit on elucien - that makes them the assholes. But if you’re posting stuff publicly that shits on other people’s ships (as you do), as much as it’s your right to do so, you can surely expect people to take issue with what you’re saying, and debate you on it. Which again, is literally what you do to other people.

I’m not “angry” at your blog - you’re just getting back the same energy that you put out.

You can copy and paste all you'd like from the internet however, Vassa is not a phoenix so in this case your selection isn't valid.

Firebirds belong to Russian / Slavic folklore while Phoenix belongs to many cultures. To proclaim they are one in the same means you're trying to lump all cultures into one.

You're searching for any possible way to try and tie your Lucien / Vassa theory belonging in Day together while ignoring what we know of her curse.

The fairytale revolves around Koschei and the FIREBIRD. Which is not ever noted as Koschei and the Phoenix.

She was cursed and wants to break the spell. What about what she's going through makes you believe she wants to continue turning into a bird and requires the sunshine of Day to do so?

Energy I'm putting out there? You mean the energy I share with my followers under the Elucien, Anti E/riel tags? The energy where I'm not seeking out E/riel or Vassien fans and starting arguments with them? You saw my posts in the Anti Vassien tag yet you thought it would be a great idea to start an argument? Because you're triggered by my stance? Are you saying I'm not allowed to think "Lucien and Vassa would have lukewarm chemistry?"

As far as the intelligent life post, did you happen to note who it was aimed at? Was it everyone who shipped E/riel or was it at Anti Lucien's who eviscerate him because he had never even met Elain but wanted to meet her once to know if he should try to fight for her while she was in love and engaged to someone else? Then those same people turn around and ridicule Elucien's for shipping them. So yeah again, people that throw the first insults are going to find that their targets fight back.

You and I are not the same because again, I am sharing my content under the correct tag letting people know which side I fall on and am not baiting people or entering their blogs to start things. My mutuals and I deserve to address the bullying and flat out twisting of facts that occur in this fandom in a space that was created using proper tags.

YOU are the one actively searching out accounts that you don't agree with and hiding your identity while trying to start something. And it's interesting you claim you're not the Anon from earlier yet I have never received Vassien shipper anons back to back on the same day. In fact it's rare that I have any Vassien shippers message me 🤔