#WHY do you think im aligned with your hate???

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

sometimes i'll get a new follower on twitter and get Bad Vibes from them, do a quick check, and realise they're fine, actually, and wonder if I need to vet everyone so much.

And sometimes I'll get Bad Vibes and do a quick check and realise they've been liking posts about the fucking """"trans mafia""" and how much they love JKR and go no, okay, vetting will continue

[the-paris-of-people]

The past couple days online have been... interesting. I consider myself a leftist, think capitalism is corrupt, and think that it needs to be seriously reformed/overthrown. I admit that while I've thrown around phrases and terms like "burn it all down" and "the revolution needs to come" out of frustration without actually thinking about what a revolution entails: excellent organization, unity, and strategy to defeat the United States, the world's largest military superpower which has inflicted political and social destabilization across the majority of countries around the world. There also needs to be superb infrastructure and community to support the disabled, elderly, and poor populations who rely on government assistance and programs, healthcare, and accommodations while this so-called revolution rages on.

All I've received from the far leftist movement are lectures from condescending intellectuals who rattle off academic citations regarding ideological theory rather than practical, tangible steps to advocate for change in our local and regional communities. I have not seen one of them actually discuss conversations they've had with their friends, family, or Americans about what they want to see reflected for the future of the country. I have not seen one of them discussed how destructive, detrimental and traumatic a Trump presidency was for social prejudice and morale in the United States. I understand that for many marginalized groups they've been living in a facist state for centuries so the possibility Project 2025 doesn't galvanize them to see the two parties differently, but I don't think it is fair to white leftists falsely equivocate the election of both parties for the entire American population at all??? Or like at least specify the issues you're referring to in which you view both parties as the same????? Literally one TikTok creator who I used to follow talked about how true leftists are so much better than liberals because they aren't waiting for a presidential candidate to save the world NOW due to the accelerated apocalypse due to climate change but when asked how to change the world they suggest sharing ideas of your future utopia with other leftist groups. How the fuck is sitting around talking about living in a walkable community is great considered "saving the world now"? How are you going to dismantle and restructure American infrastructure to create these communities? How are you going to remove existing racial and social tensions to create a community where everyone lives happily side by side? Do people not consider reality at all?????

And is it not wrong for people to have a fucking sliver of optimism and hope at incremental change that's achieved within the corrupt bipartisan system of American politics, even if they know it's propaganda??? Is it wrong for people to have a singular fucking moment of relief in feeling like their values, beliefs, and lives will be better protected and THEY can advocate for change better??? Is it wrong when there's a couple months until the most pressing election in recent history for people to make the choice they feel will reduce the most amount of harm???

[toddtakefive]

btw todd’s reluctance to join the dps because he doesn’t want to read (which is then accommodated for) and is scared to put himself out there (which is also worked through) being read as todd not wanting to go AT ALL, and thus neil making the proper accommodations (“todd anderson, who prefers not to read, will keep the minutes of the meetings”) and encouraging him to step out of the box that stifles him being seen as ‘forceful’ or like he can’t take no for an answer makes me insane with rage

[mydr3aminvi0let]

i wear a lot of skirts and pink and whatnot as my style has developed with me & my personality but when one of those age regression girlies latch onto me....i do not like that

[florenceisfalling]

like idk. i miss seeing content from s.igne (though i respect gab wholeheartedly). i miss fanart from my favorite artists. i miss older eras of j.se at times (and yes, there were older eras, the way people pretended he Never Changed is just weird). i miss old anti designs. i miss the old fic trends. i miss having a very active fandom (though i am so happy to see the new arrivals) and i miss seeing him interact with fans the way he did on tumblr back in the day. i miss the way i used to interact with some of the blogs here before i decided to fuckin,,, wage holy war and make enemies out of them (joking, but i have seen sides to some of these people that i wish i could tear out of my memory). i miss feeling confident that i could trust the good intentions of people here and even the big man himself (not god. that makes sean sound like god. you know what i mean). i miss when some of you weren't so fucking bitter which is funny because i'm the bitterest bitch alive. idk. i don't think it's bad to miss any of these things because i'm not going to be an ass and act like it's anybody's fault. i'm not going to be bothered by gab for being happy because i'm glad she is happy, and i'm not going to get bothered by sean taking a reasonable step back from this hellsite when people were cruel to him, and i'm not going to get mad at trends for changing because that is how time works. but i do miss things and i know its cringe and parasocial and perhaps even problematic but i hate having to pretend like i never have Any feelings about the past lest i break a hypothetical rule of what is the Normal level of attachment to an online community. okay. i think i'm done now.

[ham1lton]

DREAM GIRL.

pairings: jude bellingham x reader.

faceclaim: maya jama <3

summary: being the personal assistant of sir lewis hamilton has been the highlight of your career so far, even when he has you fetching organic vegan dog food for roscoe at six in the morning. but that was expected, what wasn’t expected was a certain english footballer taking an interest in you.

author’s note: shout out to my jude girlies! this one is for u! it’s also technically the 29th where i am, so happy twenty first to jude! now part of a series.

— wanna be tagged in any future works? fill out my taglist!

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liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 78,928 others.

yourusername: days lately 💐

view all 10,739 comments

user1: THE LEWIS PIC 😭😭

lewishamilton: you’re fired.

-> yourusername: this is the ninth time you’ve fired me this week.

-> landonorris: i’ll hire you y/n.

-> lewishamilton: shut up norris. don’t steal my assistant.

-> yourusername: I’VE BEEN REHIRED AGAIN WOOOOOO!

user2: why is yn the most entertaining f1 related person.

user3: guys, who is she??? she’s stunning!

-> user4: yn yln! she’s lewis’ assistant and practically family at this point. she’s been with him since she was 18. she just had her 24th birthday so they’ve worked together for almost 6 years! she’s so funny and if you’re a fan of lewis, you should definitely follow her!

charles_leclerc: roscoe and leo playdate when?

-> yourusername: roscoe is booked up for the unforeseeable future i apologise.

-> alexandrasaintmleux: oh no 😢

-> yourusername: suddenly he has an opening!!!! just for alex.

-> alexandrasaintmleux: yay! i’ll message you 😊💐

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liked by lewishamilton, judebellingham and 233,938 others.

yourusername: btw if you catch your girl smiling at her phone it’s probably something i posted. your girl thinks i’m hilarious and loves me more than you 🤷🏾‍♀️

view all 27,127 comments

carmenmmundt: caption is true!

-> yourusername: kissing you virtually <3

user1: i love yn sm.

-> user2: did u see her vlog for the lv event?? she feeds us sm. shirtless lewis in the beginning, jude bellingham in the background of the event and her posing with central cee at the end. she’s collecting british boys like she’s getting paid for it.

user3: marry me yn!!!!

lilymhe: roscoe is judging tf out of you 😭

-> yourusername: he hates to see me shine 😔

user4: YOU LOOK SO GOOD IM FROTHING

user5: why is jude in the likes omggg???

roscoelovescoco: you’s my favourite’s 🐶

-> yourusername: love u sm my baby 😢

user8: is it truly a yn post without a roscoe pic?

*liked by yourusername.*

user6: all the wags love yn. i need wag!yn expeditiously.

user7: can you even post this?? won’t you get fired?

-> yourusername: idk. take it up w/ my boss lewishamilton.

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START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (5K WATCHING)

YN: hi guys!! how are we all doing? you okay?

user1: YN I LOVE YOU!!

user2: im good!

user3: where are you?

YN: i’m currently in madrid right now for a event that lewis is involved in. i love madrid. much different to drizzly england.

user4: omg perfect timing.

user5: your bf is in madrid rn.

user6: god aligned your chakras 😍

YN: my bf???? guys i don’t have a boyfriend.

user7: you do now. boyfriend distribution system has done its job and he’s hot! and rich! and successful!

user8: lmfaooo ur face 😭

YN: who are you guys talking about. i promise you, i am single.

user9: jude bellingham posted a tweet asking if he could get more screentime in your next vlog 😭

user10: girl he wants you bad 😭

user11: and we don’t blame him!

YN: jude bellingham? the football player? isn’t he like twelve.

user12: he’s 21 girl 😭

user13: cancers rise !! ♋️

YN: i don’t date younger than me! he’s a baby!

user14: you are freshly 24 😭

user15: dw you are not kelly piquet girl 😭

user16: you should date him!!

landonorris: hi 😃👋🏼

YN: hi future boss dude

landonorris: i think you should date jude as well.

YN: et tu, brute?

END INSTAGRAM LIVE. (12K WATCHING)

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liked by trentarnold66, roscoelovescoco and 1,288,567 others.

yourusername: roscoe took me to the airport and we both sobbed and cried when i had to leave. i could barely enjoy looking at shirtless jude 😔

view all 45,928 comments

judebellingham: it’s okay. you’ll have plenty more chances to see it again.

user1: caption so real 😔

user2: how’s your holiday going?

-> yourusername: great! but i genuinely crave a roast dinner so bad. roast dinner with all the trimmings please and thanks 🙏🏾

user3: i thought you were lewis’ assistant 😭 why are you chilling with jude?

-> yourusername: i am lewis’ assistant but thanks to labour laws, i am entitled to holiday leave. i am on holiday right now.

-> lilymhe: without me? 😔

-> yourusername: sorry babe 😔😔

trentarnold66: thank god. jude wouldn’t shut up about you. so glad you’re together.

-> judebellingham: i’m praying on your downfall. hope your account gets blocked 🙏🏾

landonorris: you’re just on holiday? was hoping you’d been fired so i can hire you 😒

-> yourusername: i only work for world champions. nicorosberg, you hiring?

-> user4: MESSY ASS 😭

-> user5: yn could singlehandedly repair brocedes.

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— taglist: @23victoria @maxlarens @m1892 @stinkyjax @yelenasloverrrrr @tsireyasgf @landososcar @ourlifeforchaos @itseightbeats @xylinasdiary @chelle1306 @velentine @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @f1kenzzz @lavisenri @namgification @hiireadstuff @theblueblub @lifeless-firefly @ctrlyomomma @evie-119 @starz4me1 (found yourself tagged in something you’d rather not be? refill the taglist with what you would rather be tagged in and leave a note at the bottom for me to delete your old form! if you’d like to be removed all together then send me an ask!)

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[huellitaa]

𓏲˳˚⊹ 🧸 become obsessed with yourself.

you are stupid. i said it. there. you are stupid.

let me get this straight. you are out here listening to these people who make you insecure. you are listening and actually giving a shit about people who put you down, make you feel unworthy, inferior, less of the absolute goddess that you are. you people please, you go above and beyond to help people & change yourself for people who would never do the same and for what. for people to like you? honey nobodys gonna like you. you dont even like yourself.

listen ml you need to get your priorities straight. sit down for a sec. like. just sit and genuinely ask yourself "what do i get out of this? how does this serve me?". go on, ask yourself. all these people who constantly think theyre better than you, that they can walk all over you, the ones that dont care a bit for you with their actions even if their words say otherwise, all these habits that only make you feel more low, more insecure, and dont align with where you wanna go in any way, shape or form. honey how in the hell does any of this serve you ???😭😭

i am sick to death of seeing the word selfish everywhere the moment somebody steps up and is brave enough to try and better themselves. the amount of times ive gotten "youre so selfish" or "youve changed" or "you werent like this before" jst because i got out of the most severe depression of my life where i came close to being unalive so many times is riDICULOUS and just shows how normalised insecurity and people pleasing is nowadays.

you see, people are always trying to follow the trend, follow the leader, follow everyone else nowadays. nobody actually honours what they want & that is a reflection of their own insecurity and traumas and emotions they are too scared to face. do you really want that for yourself? youve got such big dreams, such big potential, but what on earth do you do to fulfill them?

i dont think you realise just how limitless you actually are. you can do anything. we are all born the same. its only those with the courage to get up and try who will reach what they want and achieve greater things.

GET OBSESSED WITH YOURSELF. i am so DRAINED and TIRED of caring about what people think. i like something? im gonna do it. i dont care. fuck people pleasing. what are they gonna do when youre rich and famous and successful and thriving? YOU ARE THE ONLY VALIDATION YOU NEED. life is so much easier when you genuinely could not care less, like you just dont give a single shit. you are the only person who knows you inside out and will be there with you 24/7 365. it infuriates me how self hatred is so normalised nowadays. like what the actual fuck, why would you wanna spend your entire life hating the only person whos gonna be with you every second without fail, when you are perfectly capable of reversing that???? its ridiculous.

get up. get obsessed with yourself. the only validation you should be chasing is your own. pull yourself together girl. this is ridiculous. you are so much more than this. start acting like it. be ur own biggest fan. be ur own bestest friend. everything you need is already within you. u got this. 💕

all my love 💓✨💗💘🎀💖

[cowboygenesis]

1/2 fatum invenit | gale x reader

part 1 of the "fatum" mini-series.

summary: you've loathed each other since the dawn of his first arrival. it never should've worked, but somehow, as you find yourself chest-to-chest within a sunken crypt with no way out, your feelings finally surface— and Gods, do they cut deep.

pairing: gale dekarios x sorceress!durge!reader tags: fluff, angst, tons of cursing, mutual pining, forced proximity, enemies/rivals to lovers. word count: 5.3k notes: whew, here we are at last. if you've read "knuckle up" you might find the ending a little similar but... what can i say, im a softie. also, the durge aspect of the reader is truly very minimal, i just added it for the sake of flavor, whatevah... oh, and reader is super cheeky and generally curses a lot, im case that's something that bothers you. i want this to be a two-parter eventually, so expect some smut in the future chapter. as always, let me know what you think! enjoy! masterlist.

You… you fucking knew it. The one time in your life you decide to give a wizard the benefit of the doubt he… he screws you the fuck over.

It was supposed to be an easy job: infiltrate Kereska’s chapel, retrieve the relic Raphael demanded, and slip away unnoticed. Hey, no big deal— you’ve handled worse without breaking a sweat.

Most of your companions weren’t so eager to take on the devil’s dirty work after a night of drinking, so, you figured you’d tackle it solo. No problem. After all, you’d just returned home to Baldur’s Gate. The evening was warm, the streets thrummed with energy, and after a night of revelry, you were in a damn good mood.

So when Gale, with his calm, holier-than-thou attitude, offered to “assist,” you’d thought sure, why the Hells not?

And what a mistake that would turn out to be for you. Just as your gut had warned you, things ended up going sideways. All because of him.

You both had made it past the wards, the traps, and even those fucked up, undead necromancers that you hated dealing with—no thanks to Gale’s constant commentary on your spellcasting techniques. It was always some remark about how your magic was “undisciplined,” how you were “too reckless to be at your best.” Fuck, like you hadn’t been doing this shit for years, now.

Warranted, you weren’t exactly the nicest person, either. Meals at your camp were a battlefield of their own, filled with biting comments and passive-aggressive stares, often over trivial matters that had nothing to do with magic.

Plus, combat was no different. It rarely took more than a few minutes before you and Gale were mired in a heated debate over the “best course of action for the situation”. Naturally, these debates only added to the tension, making every encounter feel like a personal clash as opposed to a friendly discussion over technique.

You two were polar opposites, discordant, incompatible.

But you were an idiot, then. A dumb, tender-hearted idiot in a great mood who had hoped you two could eventually get along if the stars aligned just right. But that’s all hindsight.

After all the hard work, you had almost had it— your hand was just within reach of that damned necklace, caution thrown to the wind, when Gale decided to get fancy. A small “adjustment” to the magical aura surrounding the relic, he’d explained— something about minimizing risk and stabilizing the flow of the Weave so you could extract it safely.

You discarded the idea, of course; “fuck your tricks,” you had said (your actual words), rolled your eyes at him, and said goodbye to the remnants of your good mood as he reprimanded you like a teacher would a novice— and that, naturally, you weren’t.

Unlike him, you didn’t need a stack of tomes to inspectthis kind of arcane energy. It felt powerful and intricate, yes— but beneath it all, it was just a trick of the eye. The glowing, golden-tinged sphere wasn’t malevolent whatsoever, and instead served as a cheap ploy to repel those tempted by the artifact.

So, knowing what you knew, you reached for the relic despite his suggestion.

But, just as you were to lay a finger on it, he… he cast his fucking “safety” spell. And everything went to hell.

The forcefield around the necklace reacted— wildly. The air rippled in waves, the ground shifting beneath you, and suddenly, you were trapped in some kind of collapsed chamber beneath the chapel— cut off from the rest of the world, with no way out.

Worst of all, you were in heartbreaking proximity. The dugout was deep, but narrow, allowing you maybe a centimeter of privacy before your chest collided with his. And Gods, did that happen often. Any movement you made, your bodies would collide in one way or another, be it feeling his thigh rub against yours, grazing fingers, or smacking his chin— the last one being a complete accident on your part, of course.

And yes, as two magic-wielders would, you tried your luck. As it turned out, the stone binding your bodies together seemed to have a sort of Weave-repellent property that rendered your only functional skills worthless.

So, here you were, stuck with your arch-rival, and with every passing second, your frustration grew. It must have been half an hour since the disaster struck when you finally felt your head pound with frustration.

“Gale,” you sigh for the millionth time, “Are you even listening?”

He’s been doing a great job ignoring your commentary by seemingly occupying himself with analyzing your surroundings. Smart, sure, if it wasn’t for the simple fact he refused to collaborate with you whatsoever. After your initial scream-off, he seemed reluctant to give you the time of day again.

He finally clears his throat to speak, and you shoot him a glare in the dim light.

"You just had to do your thing, didn’t you?" he sighs.

“And you just had to show off,” you retort through a bitter snark.

Gale glances at you with narrowed eyes, yet his expression remains infuriatingly contained. “I was trying to prevent a catastrophe. If I hadn’t intervened, the entire chapel may have collapsed.”

“Well, congratulations,” you snap, “It collapsed on us instead. I’m so glad we avoided a disaster, Gale.”

He exhales slowly, then gives you a haphazard eye-roll. “Perhaps if you hadn’t rushed things—”

“Rushed things?” Your chest flares, making it collide with his. “I didn’t touch a damned thing. You’re the one who decided the Weave needed tuning or whatever other bullshit.”

Gale’s eyes narrow, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “You think I did this on purpose? I made the right choice. But you—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” You cut him off, “Honestly, fuck you, man. If you were half as concerned with doing a good job as you are with peacocking we wouldn’t even be here in the first place.”

He looks away, his jaw tightening. “Peacocking?”

“Yeah. Peacocking, showing off—Are you okay? I thought you were supposed to be the clever one.” You shrug in mock nonchalance, rolling your eyes as if the circumstances weren’t already driving you up the wall.

You feel Gale’s chest rise and fall with a steadying breath, the sort one might take when trying to stop themselves from saying something they’ll inevitably regret. When it came to containing his bubbling rage, he beat you to it every time.

His casual lilt, when it comes, makes your teeth grit. “Obviously.”

You groan loudly, letting the back of your head thud against the stone wall behind you. A tense silence falls between you, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing, a sound that seems to grow louder in the small space whenever conversation dies down.

“You would’ve been buried stone-cold dead under the rubble if I hadn’t cast that spell,” he mutters, and just like that, your patience snaps.

“I— I can’t believe you’re saying this to me,” Your words are sharp as daggers, eyes burning into his as you twist your body just enough to face him head-on. “The barrier was a ruse, Gale. A fake. I told you not to cast that damn spell—”

“And I suppose explanations are beneath someone of your obvious talents,” he snaps back, his words dripping with venom.

You glare at him, feeling your pulse quicken. “You’re a scholar— Gods, don’t you know this kind of illusory magic is Kereska’s whole thing?” you spit, watching his face aptly in hopes of catching a glimpse of something; remorse, sympathy, fuck, even just a bit of pity would satiate you.

But it never comes. His eyes bore into you with practiced reprimanding, and because he must see you on the precipice of breaking down, he continues to poke the metaphorical bear. “You should’ve waited.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must’ve missed the part where you became the authority on everything. In case you somehow overlooked it, I’ve been doing this for years without your lectures.”

“And look how well that’s worked out for you,” he retorts, his voice low, treacherous. There’s a mocking smile imbued on his face, and you quickly realize it makes you want to tackle him to the ground and claw it out yourself. If it wasn’t for the minimal space, you probably would’ve even attempted it. “This wasn’t some petty street magic. That relic was infused with layers of defense—complex protections you clearly didn’t even account for—”

“I knew what I was dealing with!” you hiss, pushing against the wall for leverage. You brush against his chest again, sending an electric jolt of tension through the confined space. “I didn’t need your over-calculated, pompous meddling. I had it under control until you—”

“Under control?” Gale’s voice rises, his frustration finally splintering through his quiet facade as he emits a burst of scornful laughter. “Do you even hear yourself? Your recklessness nearly got us killed!”

You scoff, pushing back even harder. “You’re so damn smug— acting like the world will end if you don’t micromanage every little detail, but guess what? You don’t always have the answer. And right now, we’re stuck— all because of your fucking arrogance.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then closes it, jaw tight, eyes blazing as he holds your gaze. For a second, you think he’s about to let loose another lecture, but instead, there’s silence—a strange, electricity-charged stillness that envelops you like a cold breeze.

You can’t speak. It crackles between you with a strain, thick enough to feel suffocating. Every breath you take only draws you closer to him, and somehow, it almost feels like the walls enveloping you have only grown thicker throughout your argument.

The closeness, the heat, the sheer intensity of the argument—it’s all too much, and yet, neither of you looks away once your gazes inevitably connect.

The wizard licks his bottom lip languidly, lips smacking as he seems to be taking you all in. His eyes scan over you, and somehow the fact makes you feel vulnerable.

Finally, he breaks the peace.

“If I’m so arrogant, why did you let me join you?”

His eyes are dark, but not just with frustration; they’re searching, questioning, as though he’s daring you to give an honest answer, knowing it’s something you can’t afford yourself right now.

“You asked me to let you come,” you bark out, pushing his chest with the heel of your hand, the contact sending a spark of heat through your outstretched arm. “I didn’t want you here. I figured we’d get through this, grab the necklace, and go our separate ways again. But no—you wanted to come. Play the hero, do all the dirty work, whatever your reasoning was.”

Gale doesn’t flinch at your words, but his eyes narrow slightly— they flicker to the space your bodies connect at, then back to your tautened face.

His gaze lingers on where your hand presses against his chest, and for a fleeting moment, you think he might back down. But instead, his jaw clenches, and when his eyes snap back to yours, there’s a fire behind them that ignites something deep in your gut.

“And you agreed,” he counters mockingly, the smile adorning his face making your head spin. “Why?”

The question hangs between you for a beat. You falter, mouth opening and closing without a reply.

He’s right. He’s fucking correct, and you hate it.

Why did you agree? You could’ve said no, barked back at him, insulted his stupid wizard frock— pushed him away with one of the countless options you had at your disposal.

But you didn’t. You let him come with you, willingly.

You clench your fists, pushing against the surge of discomfort bubbling in your belly. “Well, forgive me for being an optimist,” you mutter, voice tight. “I thought, for once, that maybe— Fuck. Maybe we could get through one fucking mission without trying to jump at each others’ throats.”

He exhales at your explanation, tilting his head to glance through the top of the crevasse and toward the chapel ceiling. You follow suit, albeit subtly, noticing the intricate engravings lining the skylight; in the dim light of the afternoon sun, they look elegant, beautiful, even. How didn’t you notice that when you first walked in?

“And how’s that going for us?” he asks suddenly, the smile curling at the edges of his mouth turning bitter.

You huff, running a hand through your hair. The condensation sticks to your fingers, and you can’t help the joyless chuckle that escapes your lips when you look at him again.

“Well, I don’t know,” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders lazily. Your cynical laughter shifts into the shadow of a smile. Somehow, as he glances down at you, you find yourself with a pang in your chest that overshadows the frustration you’ve been drowning in— it’s deep, and resonant, and feels like it’s swallowing your heart whole when his dark eyes meet yours. “We still hate each other.”

The wizard exhales sharply through his nose, and strangely, you can’t seem to read his expression even as your eyes squint.

His gaze is fixed on yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken; you feel it best when his hot breath hits the sweat-slicked skin of your face as he leans in. It’s a slight, almost imperceptible gesture, yet just enough to make your breath hitch with… rage, aversion— or perhaps, most frighteningly, something else you’ve been pushing down for months since your first quarrel.

You’re forcefully dragged out of your stupor when the pad of his thumb grazes your palm— the touch sends a sharp, almost uncomfortable jolt of electricity down your spine, leaving you speechless as you chalk it up to an unfortunate accident. Nothing more, it couldn’t be.

“I don’t hate you,” he says, and though his tone is stiff, the words cut through your pause like a skilled blade.

It couldn’t be.

Your breath catches in your parched throat, heart pounding with a force that would surely reverberate through his body hadn’t his robe been so thick.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, each shallow breath you take only drawing you closer— or, at least, that’s exactly how it feels in the tiny space you’re being forced to share.

His thumb is still brushing your palm, slowly, gently, and deliberately enough that you cannot ascribe it to a simple accident anymore. For a second, your eyebrows arch and there’s this urge to pull away, something thrumming in your head and telling you to hold to principle.

But you don’t… you— you physically can’t. Not when he’s gazing down at you with… with patience. Understanding, maybe. But why?

A beat passes, then another. The tension coils so tight you almost want to scream to break it, and his gaze remains locked on yours, his palm grazing yours.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper.

“You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours. "You’re fucking with me. I… you hate me, Gale, I can’t—"

He glances down at you with a strange glint in his eyes, then exhales loudly again. Did you strike a nerve?

“Why do you always do this?” he questions with exasperation tugging at his tone. You feel his touch momentarily drop from yours, and in the heat of the moment, you find yourself missing it.

“What?” you blink, eyebrows furrowed.

“This,” He gestures between the two of you with a frustrated sigh. “You’re— you’re always picking fights with me. Always pushing, always assuming the worst—”

“I’m picking fights?” Your eyes narrow, the sneer coming back to your lips like armor. “You’ve been criticizing every godsdamn thing I’ve done since day one, making me feel inferior, questioning my skill— and now I’m the one picking fights?”

He shakes his head sharply, then sighs in frustration. When you look up, his eyes are locked on yours—deep brown with flecks of gold, catching the fractured sunlight streaming through the cracked skylight. You could drown in them, given the chance.

“No, that’s not— That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” He stops himself, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. “You don’t— you just refuse to listen to me. When we fight, in camp— even now. The relic, that barrier, you— Gods, you always act instead of—”

“Don’t you dare paint me as the villain now,” you snap, bumping his chest with the pad of your palm again.

“You almost got us killed!” he bites back, “I don’t care for your talents if it means you don’t utilize them properly. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, raw talent doesn’t equal capability?”

Right.

Your lips purse, the pit in your stomach suddenly overpowering your ability to retort. It was a mistake— you should have known the niceties were a convenient gimmick to ascertain his position over you, and not an actual instance of humanity, for once.

But somehow, your false hopes only drive the wrath within you. You let the nausea overcome you and have it fuel your bitter tone as you finally find the power to speak up again.

“All you care about is being right— about having the last word against anyone who dares question your abilities,” you mutter, challenging his stern gaze with your own, “And the rest of us? We’re just supposed to sit by and watch, grateful to be in the presence of Gale Dekarios, the great, tragic wizard who thought his tricks could satiate a fucking Goddess!”

You’re fuming. The words that come out of your throat are only half-baked as you shrill at him, but… but at the moment, it feels right— warranted, somehow.

So when you catch him give you the space to continue, you take it.

“…But the truth is, you need to feel superior. You need everyone to see you as the sleekest in the room because deep down, you’re still clinging to the ghost of a woman who abandoned you. And that’s why you’ve been picking me apart since day one—because I’m not afraid to tell you how full of shit you are.”

Suddenly, you feel his hand catch your wrist, his grip firm as he holds you still. His thumb presses lightly against your pulse, sending a sharp, unwanted jolt of awareness through your body as your arm tries to jerk away.

“You don’t know the first godsdamn thing about me,” Gale growls, his breath fanning your face as the words spill out, thick with venom. “You’re so wrapped up in your own insolence, so blinded by your stubborn pride, that all you can see in others is a reflection of yourself. And trust me when I say that it’s an ugly one.”

You laugh, a bitter, angry sound, but your heart is hammering now. “Oh, so you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

His jaw clenches, but his grip doesn’t waver. “I know enough. I know that your actions speak louder than words. I know that you’re reckless, impulsive, and too damned proud to admit when you need help—”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the heat between you scorching as your breaths mingle. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You’re the one who’s blinded by your own self-importance— always thinking you’re the wisest, savviest person in the room, like the rest of us are just pawns in your little fucking game.”

Gale’s eyes flash with something wild and uninhibited, and you watch his sneer shift into a bitter smile again.

“You— You really think that?” he questions through a chuckle, voice gravelly and low. “Do you really think I’m just using you for some game?”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moves. You sneer at him, and the outrage bubbles out again.

“Oh, don’t make me laugh. You’ve only ever looked out for yourself. This was never about helping me—it was… it was about proving something. To me, to yourself, to fucking Mystra,” you trail.

The moment the words leave your lips, the air shifts between you like a storm about to unravel. His grip on your wrist tightens, not painfully, but with a deliberate firmness that forces you to stop and feel the tension between you. His face is suddenly too close, and for the most succinct moment, you catch something flickering in his eyes—something dim, and dark—but not the rage you were expecting.

He should be angry with you— Hells, he should be furious. You just tore into every insecurity you knew he had, ripped open wounds that never quite healed, and worst of all, dragged his old lover into it all.

And yet… his gaze isn’t burning with the fever you’ve grown used to seeing from him in every argument, every fight.

Why the fuck isn’t he furious?

“Gods, I actually— I used to admire you. You know that? Before all this, I thought you were someone I could… I don’t know, respect. You were this brilliant, woeful man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I thought, ‘Maybe there’s something more underneath all that.’ I thought we could, I don’t know, actually be something—friends, allies, whatever the fuck. I wanted us to trust each other. But… but you…" your voice lowers to a near whisper, and somehow, unbeknownst to you, your eyes go glassy with hot tears.

You’re left reeling, heart hammering in your chest as your mind races along with your bitter confession. The air around you feels viscous, mucous-like, but when your throat goes dry with impending tears you look up to see something that makes your breath hitch.

He’s listening.

Not just waiting for his turn to speak as he usually does around you, not calculating his next clever retort, but listening— really, truly listening.

His gaze, once so sharp with ire, has softened. His dark eyes are fixed on yours with a vigor that nearly undoes you, and there’s no anger in them now, no resentment.

Your breath catches.

“You never gave me a chance, Gale. Not once. It was always about you, your guilt, your past, your Mystra— Fuck!” you cough out and rub your eyes with the pads of your palms, massaging your vulnerability away. “I tried. I really, really tried. But none of this seemed to reach you, not through that… that mental barrier you’ve created around yourself. I think that since the very beginning, everything else was just noise to you. I was just noise to you,” your voice dies down to a mutter, and you inhale sharply to fight the sorrow back into your grieving heart.

You withdraw your hands and finally feel brazen enough to face him.

You can feel the heat in your cheeks, aware that your nose is red from the tears you tried so hard to hold back, that your eyelids are probably puffy and swollen, and you’re a fucking mess.

But it doesn’t matter now. You’ve come undone, and now, nothing mattered to you anymore; not the anger, not the sorrow, and especially not the way his kind, gentle touch seemed to soothe your aching heart when his palm met yours.

You scan his face, but there’s nothing— or at least, you can’t seem to read it through the coating of tears obscuring your eyes. The light above has shifted to cast his face in a warm, velvety light. You catch the subtle lines etched into his forehead, the faint silver threads streaking through his hair, and his lips curling into… a smile.

Despite your desperation, despite your pain, he was smiling.

Your chest tightens, fists clenching at your sides, and before you can stop them, a stream of hot tears finally spills down your cheeks.

This was it. You braced for impact.

“…So do whatever the fuck you need to fill that void in your heart, but don’t involve me in any of it. And— for fuck’s sake, Gale, don’t act like you give a shit about me because you—”

But you never get to finish.

Before you can witness the gentle glint in his eyes as he leans into you, before you can even register it, his lips crash onto yours.

Your gasp is muted against the softness of his mouth. When he moves, it’s not gentle, not soft, but raw in its intensity and so, so desperate.

His grip on your wrist tightens briefly before finally releasing, his free hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. The warmth of his hand is a pleasant change to the cold, hard stone you’ve been leaning against, and suddenly, just as your mind threatens to flood you with dopamine, it all dawns on you.

You’ve been here before—no, not here, but in moments that feel eerily alike.

You recall the edge in his voice during arguments, the way he’d insist on ‘rectifying’ you at every turn, the blunt critiques you assumed were borne from pure vanity. But now… now there’s a clarity to it all. Worry. Fear. A softness, a hesitation. Like when he would offer his hand to you after a fight, his fingers lingering just a moment too long as they brushed over yours.

You loathed him… Hells, you detested him.

But how deep were you willing to draw the line between hate and devotion?

Against all your instincts, against the sharp, burning ache in your chest—you drink him in. His warmth, his touch, the power behind it all.

You know you should push him away, shove him off, scream, but instead, you find yourself frozen— trapped in the certainty of this moment. And despite every ounce of fury burning inside you, you can’t deny the spark it ignites in your indigent heart as he caresses you so tenderly.

And with that, you seal your fate with his.

Your lips press against his, head tilting until you feel you’re melting into him. He groans softly against your mouth, and the sound makes your chest thrum with a melody you’re afraid to place.

Your hands, trembling, inch towards his chest, but this time they aren’t formed into spiteful fists or an accusatory point— your palms lay lax against him, resting at the junction of his ribs and pushing, pushing… just in hopes of catching the steady thrum of his heart against your fingertips. The anger, the pain, the confusion—it’s all still there, but in this moment, none of it matters.

Just him. Just this.

For all the times you’ve misread him, all the moments you thought his criticisms were barbs, meant to wound—now you wonder. You had mistaken his care for contempt, his frustration for hatred. But now, as his lips part slightly against yours, the world narrows down to just the two of you. No damned relic, no mission, no war; only the benign sensation of his hand cradling the back of your neck, the warmth of his mouth on yours, and the undeniable truth of it all:

You’ve never hated him. Not once in your rotten life.

And when his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, you want to come undone. You’re tired, hot, melting into this fiery, passionate kiss that has slowly turned languid and gentle.

So despite the zeal enveloping your body, you’re finally forced to part.

When your eyes open, you find him already watching you. A shiver runs down your spine as you drink him in; tousled hair, half-lidded eyes, and the ghost of a smile on his plush lips as the both of you pant in tandem with each other.

He looks wrecked. But then again, you’re certain you do too.

Your face feels flushed, still burning with aftershock and when you bite your bottom lip, you find it swollen. Raw. The taste of him lingers there too, sweet like bourbon and sharp like anise.

You stare at each other. It’s like you’re seeing him for the first time again, really seeing him, and it softens your heart as much as it terrifies your lust-addled mind.

The silence stretches between you, so thick you can feel it pressing against your skin. It pulls taut with every second, coiling tighter, and you can’t stand how fragile it makes your heart feel.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper. “You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours.

"Yeah?" His voice is husky— you’ve never found that aspect of it attractive until now.

You open your mouth, but the words—whatever they are—die in your throat. Instead, all you can do is look at him and fall deeper into his embrace.

There are questions that swirl in the back of your mind, ones you know you should ask, but they slip away the moment his thumb brushes your cheek again. Why did he kiss you? Why did you let him? And why, despite the chaos and pain that’s passed through your mind, did this—he—feel like the only thing that has made sense since you forgot all else?

“I never hated you,” he murmurs and shifts slightly, lifting his hand to cup your cheek. You nuzzle into his touch.

“I didn’t want to hate you,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought it’s what we were meant to be. Enemies.”

“We aren’t,” The corner of his mouth twitches. “We never were.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, and just like that, the fragile walls around your heart crumble. Gale Dekarios, the man you had sworn to hate, has somehow intertwined himself into your very existence in a way you suddenly think might last centuries.

—

As it turns out, the solution to your predicament was surprisingly, nearly embarrassingly straightforward. The anti-magic barrier encircling the sunken crypt could be dispelled by reciting the incantation inscribed on the rock walls— and with Gale’s surprising proficiency in Draconic, it proved quite an easy feat.

After that, it was just a matter of a few rudimentary spells. Naturally, the task took longer than anticipated, thanks to the lingering, newfound tension between you and the wizard— fleeting glances, soft touches, and even an occasional, stolen kiss as you recited your magic; things you surprisingly found yourself quite fond of.

As you step out into the cool evening air, you inhale deeply, savoring the crisp, refreshing breeze. The sunset paints the world in a warm, golden hue, casting long, soft shadows across the cobbled streets as you pass by groups of chattering townsfolk.

“I’ve been thinking,” you hear your companion muse through a playful smile. “After all of this, do you think we could avoid arguments for a little while?”

You meet his gaze with a puckish eye roll, a smile tugging at your still-swollen lips. The warm glow of the streetlights casts his face in a soft, intimate glow, and your smile widens into a grin when you catch his lips bearing that same sign of your carnal affection.

“It depends,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug, pushing against him playfully.

“Mhm, and on what exactly?” he hums, his hand squeezing tighter around yours. When his thumb caresses your palm, you feel your heart thrum with something you can’t quite describe.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply, glancing up at him with a grin. He returns it within a beat, and now it’s your turn to knit your fingers tighter. “How much longer are you planning on nagging me?”

He chuckles from the belly, and the coil in your chest that you’ve long expected to be spite emerges as something much larger, softer, and most unexpected. You fear to name it out loud.

You smile when your gaze meets his, the warmth in his eyes mirrored by the softness of your own. He leans in, and the world narrows to the touch of his lips against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that seems to linger in the evening light. In that fleeting moment, all the doubts and anxieties are swept away with his voice calling your name.

“For as long as I live,” he retorts softly, his voice laced with tenderness as the air between you, once again, fills with his laughter.

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

i have left

hey everyone this will probably be the last thing i post on this blog albeit im keeping it up for resources.

im eternally grateful for how this community has helped me through prostitution and everything, i have amazing mutuals and i have learned so much 💜

but it has become toxic. many of yall cant handle disagreement and default to being as condescending and obnoxious as possible. one of us calling out a post is not enough, we have to dog pile everyone with a slightly shitty opinion. some of yall have severely lost the plot if you ever had it in the first place. not everything is that serious, especially when it comes to online drama.

im sick of it. so many engage in the same bullshit we accuse online trans activists of. this is an echo chamber. so many just mindlessly parrot slogans and arguments. what im very sick of is seeing single tweets or posts by a nobody, usually anonymous, being spread as receipts and shit. you know how annoying it is when everything a self proclaimed terf somewhere on social media says is taken by trans activists at face value and representative of the community when theyre not even radical feminist, just transphobic? yeah. yet a lot of yall do the same by saving and sharing „receipts“ where some random person who claims theyre trans (or not even) says some fucked up or out of pocket shit. you will always find people like that online, from any politicial „camp“ or ideological alignment!

a lot of yall seem to think that debate is about winning and not like, having an exchange of arguments and let the audience come to their own conclusion

and i just dont hate trans people. in fact i feel kinship to any female or homosexual trans person, anyone except heterosexual males. many of yall dont even realise how male centered you are when you more or less equal the trans community to heterosexual men who have a fetish for humiliation and forced feminisation or whatever. who exist and are an issue and i do wish the trans community at large would distance themselves from those men, but its not all there is to it. yes i agree that we need to protect vulnerable young people, girls and especially lesbians and gay boys, from being pushed into transitioning, i think the age of consent should be put at 21 or something, but we have to acknowledge and consider that there are people who have already transitioned and will transition in the future and i just dont understand how you cant have any empathy for them. no matter what you think about transition, many trans people ARE vulnerable and marginalised. plus consider how many detransitioned women are in this community yet yall talk about trans people as mutilated and shit its gross. in the end we can only try to establish structures that keep people from self harming, but an adult of sound mind has the right to do so anyways, including plastic surgery and trans surgeries. and i want to keep my arms open to them; but a lot of rhetoric around it spread on here will only alienate them further.

right now im saving all my essays in notes so its out of my mind. i have missed the community a lot so maybe i will return at some point but i have also been feeling better since i stopped being on radblr. i miss the rare valuable input and thoughts by other women but overall i have felt unaligned with how things have been handled on here. it has been mostly negative instead of constructive and pragmatic. ive had the impression some of yall enjoy the „being in the in-group“ community aspect more than actually being here for feminist exchange. lack of nuance, lack of empathy, lack of reason. it pains me but i have more and more come to understand why people just block us without engaging on general suspicion because ive also come to be annoyed with some of yall engaging with posts - and im on „your side“.

anyways im doing okay, im going to drug counselling regularly now and am trying to establish a stable life for those of you who inquired, and i hope anyone reading this is self reflected enough to know whether this applies to her or not. bye

[anemoiashifts]

shifting tips / advice that don’t suck !

♡getting offline.

i know i know it’s hard, but being bombarded with different information about a certain topic can be so overwhelming & create room for overthinking which can effect performance. looking in places outside of shiftok or shiftblur or shift whatever. putting more effort into trying to figure out what something is instead of doing it will drive you insane because there is no answer to what shifting is. hence, “theories” & shared experiences. there is no concrete reasoning to shifting backed by science so don’t try & find them or you’ll be looking forever.

♡music.

did you know you can use music to manipulate memories ? the brain is so so bad at remembering things due to how much information we consume daily. when you visualize & listen to a sound or music, your brain can register that as a memory.

♡smell.

this one also aligns with the one above. smell is heavily tied to memory, also. by watching a show we are shifting to & pairing it with a certain scent like a perfume or candle, we can create a link between the two. then, spraying during shifting attempts can help us visualize & associate that piece of media with where we’re focusing on.

♡shadow work.

find out why you’re shifting. happiness ? you don’t need to shift for that. love ? you don’t need to shift for that. if you want to that’s fine but is shifting a bandaid for something deeper ? discover that. really think & consider where you’re going & if you’re in the right mentality to handle it. you aren’t in a television show episode or an oc, you’ll be a living human being in a very real & interactive world. figure out your intentions.

♡put in effort.

this may be a little obvious but you have to want to shift, to shift. you have to put in work & effort to shift & take another approach if doing the same method 10x over hasn’t worked for you. “we shift every second” sure but you didn’t shift into your desired reality in the past thirty. “im saying an affirmation & rolling over & hoping ill wake up in my dr” & how has that worked out for you ? just because this has maybe worked for other people, doesn’t mean it'll work for you. everyone is different. people require more time & effort to get something right then others just like subjects like art or english come easier to students.

♡perfection.

not everything has to be perfect. script isn’t completed ? so what ? you’ve been saying “im not ready yet” for the five months. don’t put off good things out of fear of them not being exactly how you want it because it will never be perfect because perfection isn’t real. if you don’t have everything figured out — that’s fine. why ? because life will sort itself out. this remains true right here & in your desired life. if it’s any comfort, everything will fall into place.

♡neutrality.

if you’re someone who wakes up after an attempt saying “i’ll never shift, i hate this reality” then you’re kinda sabotaging yourself in a way. your creating the mindset that this is the “bad” place when shifting is “good”. that’s not true. everything is entirely neutral until you define it as such. in addition, you are focusing more on the “haven’t” & giving that more attention to & what you give attention to will only grow until it’s so big you can’t see anything else.

♡listening.

people who want things don’t sit & complain about not having them, they persist & would do anything to get their desires & live in that reality. instead of saying “i didn’t shift” & sulking about it, take it as a learning experience to see what does & doesn’t work for you; your body is showing you what not to do so listen to yourself.

[nilboxes]

I didn't know who to say this too but i was about to explode thinking about this and you are one of the few people in hsr fandom that i trust to understand ratio so my apologies to be dumping this on you all of a sudden but... I think Ratio's technique is so interesting in a way and speaks more about him than people give it credit for. Like...creating a fake version of himself that aggros the enemy is already very meta of how hsr fandom tends to see him, esp with the number of people that started hating him after that "betrayal" scene in 2.1 xD And it makes me wonder about his voiceline where he says something like "im fine with showing my true self if it helps me teach students/cures patients but i find that doing so is counterproductive most of the time"...wdym "true self" sir...and why are your character details completely devoid of any details from your own pov...and why do you get so evasive when anyone tries to ask about your past (going by that one interview when someone asked him what he was like as a child and he's just like "what a silly question, i was a normal boy")...it seems to me the princess is hiding something...

Thank you for your ask OP! It's really interesting to think about your question, and I'm humbled by your trust! I hope whatever I cook can satisfy you in some way. It's going to be a bit long!!

Let's start by saying I do operate under the belief that we know a lot about Dr Ratio and at the same time we only know what he wants us to know, which I find incredibly interesting to his character.

It can go many different ways. A lot of people use this mysteriousness to hint at the following:

1. something sinister (I am not necessarily saying you are doing this)

2. suggesting that he is more than who he is, like he may be more than who he presents to be (may or may not be evil in alignment but just more)

3. he really just thinks divulging further personal information about him is pointless and he values his privacy as an individual rather than a prominent figure

Let me now unpack the most wrongest [sic] take, number 1, which I find to be antithetical to his character, because Dr Ratio has always been aligned with doing good. He isn't your typical good person, but he is morally pushing for good (eradication of ignorance, people finding and reaching their potential etc), and he rather he reminds me of a very stern but nonetheless kind educator who genuinely demands good be brought into the world through one's aptitude and ability (just like himself) and not relying on others to solve problems for you

Number 2 is a little tricky, since we cannot really confirm nor deny that Ratio is no longer truly following Nous after he realizes he will never be acknowledged, he may be aligned to another Aeon or none entirely! I personally dislike the Mythus/Fictionologist take, because again it is antithetical to who he is as a character. Fictionologists will rewrite history and twists facts in order to create the possibility of uncovering more, but this is akin to something called accelerationism, which is in plain words to incite chaos (bad) in the slim chances that from the chaos a great good might emerge/ be produced/discovered etc, a practice and ideology I feel Dr Ratio as he is characterized now would be extremely against. Now I do subscribe to the fact that Dr Ratio may not be following an Aeon at all or we aren't privy to who they are yet, but this is a possibility that there is a facet to Dr Ratio we have not seen yet and will down the line so...

Number 3 is where I am at now, I really, genuinely think Dr Ratio just thinks of himself as some guy who was gifted with the equivalent of 8 genius brains but it isn't anything exceptional. From how he acts, he feels like some guy who had a rather normal childhood (if not really lonely, which I talk about in my twitter thread here) and grew up to be exceptional except in all the ways he wanted/was taught to want/thought he might want.

So I operate on several headcanons about Ratio just genuinely being so smart in a planet that is presumably the remnants of the civilization in the Laurel Wreath Galaxy where a Philosopher King/Philosopher Union was mentioned. This headcanon is heavily colored by this excellent theory a fellow fan made and I have to admit I can scarcely distinguish between mine and theirs while I turn him around in my brain so do give them/their thread a read too when you can, but I do also subscribe to how Ratio must have been exceptional in a civilization that prizes scholarship and enlightenment.

Knowing this, I presume he grew up with a lot of expectations placed upon him, particularly that of gaining the gaze or glance of Nous and ascending as a genius society member or more! That is a lot to place on an individual, especially someone like Ratio who is very much hinted to have grown up very fast due to his vast knowledge and while it's a stretch to say he was forced into growing up fast, because he def wasn't, he was nevertheless seemingly not really given much opportunities to be a child, as the push for him to start university very early could suggest that his aptitude and potential were so valued that it overridden any other needs he may have. If we wanted to ask about his childhood, he would have very dull things to say too, so to speak. I imagine it wasn't eventful at all, but filled with just studies.

Where am I going with this about his statues? They are called Mold of Idolatry! Idolatry meaning the extreme adoration or love of someone. That Dr Ratio makes the statues of himself never seems like the narcissistic sort, that would imply he holds himself in an extremely high regard to the detriment of others, but Dr Ratio isn't narcissistic, he would be a vastly different character if he was. The key to narcissism is that there is a great need, to the point of detriment, for admiration.

Now, look over to how Dr Ratio presents himself to us in his 1.6 quests. He wears his plaster head as not to be recognized by others, to remain incognito if you will, and is content to sit at the sidelines nudging things along in the background rather than swoop in and take the credit as the hero when Duke Inferno was trying to wreak havoc on the Space Station. His heroic deeds are never realized by the people he saved from being spaced, that is not an action of a narcissistic man who would gloat about saving other people. No, he sees his job is done and he walks away without fanfare, without even so much as seeking a thank you from the people he saved. That's one of the clearest and most well-thought of character introductions/demonstrations in the game and a solid proof that he isn't a narcissist (again self-centeredness is different!)

With that in mind, what does the statue imply?

Dr Ratio operates by redirecting attention not to himself so he can freely move in the background. That it looks like him in funny poses speaks to a silliness I feel he never really gets a chance to let loose too often, so his "art" is his outlet. That it directs enemies to attack that instead of him, I can't help but feel like there's a sense of "look at this 'image of me' others have built up, pour your love/expectations/wants/aspirations (and the extreme opposite of that maybe?) to that likeness of me instead, and let me be free from that to be who I could be without all of that baggage"

tl;dr -- it's not that deep but it is?? I feel like Ratio just wants to be left alone to do his thing and that's what the Mold of Idolatry represents.

I hope that satisfies you, anon! Thank you for your question, since I do have more insights to Dr Ratio now. I think I'll also find a way to condense this into a Twitter thread sometime.

[izzyshandz]

I swear if i see one more mf say izzy has been 'redeemed' or needed a 'redemption arc' im literally going to scream into my pillow until i lose my voice.

redeem is such a black and white way of looking at his entire character and dismisses everything hes gone through and yall (izzy haters and others) are just so fucking snob nosed and ignorant to sit there and think hes a villain because of how he acted. theyre fucking pirates. theyre not perfect, none of them are. eds a villain, stedes a villain, if youre doing it like that. ed has killed so many people, stede literally left his wife and kids and also had a hand in killing people; it may be easier for them to change because of the perspective the show gives them and they had love but izzy did not. everyone hated him, ed, his own crew, stedes crew.

normalizing peoples reactions to things as something other than villainy and heroism is so god damn important in a show that's trying to accurately involve our perspectives in this day and age. its a tale as old as time, making someone 'completely in the wrong' because their perspective isnt the one you aligned with as much.

like the rest of the crew izzy had his own bad things hes done, he didnt need this 'redemption' everyones blabbering on about. he needed to be fucking heard, to be seen, and acknowledged-- not thrown aside and abandoned because of a whim. you all can ride up blackbeards ass because oh hes so hot, hes so pretty omg wow; but that wont ever change the fact his character is a fucked up person... youre allowed to love him anyways, why not izzy? we didnt see blackbeard before screen but how hes mentioned it shows he was a shit awful person, the only reason no one cares is because on hes fuckin gay for stede or whatever so the main characters get a free ride. ( i agree they all get a free ride, im just tired of this izzy isolation man )

why does he need to be redeemed in your eyes? just because youve seen what hes done? he was literally a product of his environment in season one he was a product of blackbeard's leadership. only with the loyalty and solidarity of the crew did he really begin to find himself, thats fucking hard to do that late in life. instead of calling it some bullshit black and white redemption arc, lets just celebrate izzy being himself and being fucking loved for once in his god damn life.

hes also way more fucking mature and put together than people give him credit for. love you izzy.

edit: thank you all for the reblogs and insights in every single one, i read them i promise i do. im just so mf heartbroken we have to tag things as discourse when its really just about people not being compassionate. (as a couple people have pointed out) i will said id reblog and comment on every single tag but this is my side </3 EVERYONE PLEASE READ THE REBLOGGED TAGS TOO / / theyre so real ! ive also opened up that ask box thingy i havent been on tumblr in yrs and have 0 clue how any of that works if anyone wants my perspective on anything izzy related. *or otherwise ofmd related

[realhumanithink]

coming back online to share to the world my list of evan things. if you relate to most these things i title you Evan Rosier Kin

note: all of these are headcanons and may not align with how you perceive evan. most of these are inspired by like tiktoks and stuff, but otherwise its mostly things based on me because i literally remind myself of evan so much

another note: phrasing of these may be harsh!! im not targetting anyone fyi, and i dont mean harm, but i wrote most of these in a fit of self-hatred and when i reread them, i realised "hey, this sounds like evan lol" so i brushed it up a bit, but there might still be harsh wording and accusations

last note!!!: i have no fucking personality and im using this to self-reflect so my fault lmao

wants to be an overachiever, a hard worker, but in reality is just a gifted kid who hasn't fully burned out and is too lazy to actually work hard.

30000 different genres of songs on spotify. wonders if that means you have no personality.

sometimes wonders if people would miss you when you’re gone. doesn't think so.

knows 6 different languages, not good at any.

can't take criticism.

ambiverted. wonders if this means you have no personality.

likes a style, but isn't sure you would look good in it.

supposed ‘smart and nice’ kid, but that's who you were 4 years ago. people still hold the same view of you. 

high standards. you've been brainwashed into thinking u can meet them but sometimes, u aren't so sure.

covers the parts of your face u dont like with hair. bonus points if it's a regular ass haircut like a fringe and your parents hate it.

gets overly clingy in friendships. not like physically clingy but mentally?? if you get me

wanna be insomniac. thing is, it just takes you a bit longer to fall asleep.

fluctuating confidence levels

feels like a second choice, always.

cringe culture holds you back from enjoying what you want to enjoy.

the people around you don't seem to care as much as you do. whenever you succeed, you look back and no one is cheering like you always do. sometimes, it feels like you are average or lower, but the people you are compared to are simply even lower and that's why you are supposedly ‘good’.

*does well* “duh, *** is always so good. they don't deserve praise” *doesn't do well or actually just does average* “*** DIDNT DO WELL OHHHH”.

when someone compliments you, you feel pressured to uphold their standard and wonder how long it'll take till they realise you arent so good.

EXAMPLE because my wording is shit: someone told me i was funny and since then ive been scared to text him because i was like 'oh fuk what if when i talk to him next im not funny enough'

deathly afraid of being cheesy/cliche. this holds you back from showing much affection, especially romantic.

shoes are worn half to death.

your answer to theoretical questions is always ‘depends’. wonders if that means-

everyone thinks your friends ‘influence’ you, but really you’re as whack as them, just not as obvious.

a group of people you hate significantly less than everyone else, and one person you love

[drdemonprince]

Re: an anon from November 15th: do you have advice on how become more comfortable with negativity? Because the White Woman Socialization Brain is strong with this one and I've had a couple of friends say it gives me a tone-policing problem

I'm going to depart from my usual gradual tolerance-building exercise approach here (though all that stuff still applies) and give you a more targeted recommendation:

I think you need to find a friend who can be a bit of a shitty little outrageous bitch in how they speak and emote, but who is at their core a wonderful, reliable, and morally stand-up person, and make a special place for them in your life.

The type of person who is not afraid to be disagreeable, who says "terrible!" and launches into a whole long rant about why when you ask them how their day is going and who will show up to your house with groceries when you are sick and start cooking and cleaning all around even when you've (lyingly) said you do not need the help. The type of person who will teach your nervous system that negativity is not bad, that ruining the vibe is sometimes needed, and that we can be good people even while not worrying about making other people feel good.

You can often locate such people in hard-core activist spaces, as the people steadily Doing the Work for years on end are unlikely to be motivated by soft, tender feelings, because those emotions sure don't keep in that line of work. You can also find them in places like AA programs (or SMART Recovery meetings, etc), support groups, queer discussion groups, book clubs, marxist reading groups, church groups, food kitchens, and any other gathering of people that is motivated by a strong ideological commitment or interest in intellectual pursuits but which can be rather dry or unpleasant in its execution of their ideals. you can also just like, throw a stone in places like New York or Boston or Philly and hit three to five people like these. Even as far out as Pittsburgh or Cleveland there is a lot of them.

Now, if you have chronic white woman everybody must be happy all the time syndrome (which really just means i will *make* everybody pretend to be happy or else im going to lose my shit), it can be tempting to fall in with someone who *seems* like a person like this, but who in actuality is a manipulative undermining abuser taking advantage of your tendency to excuse and downplay their many slights and offenses.

You do not want that. You want someone who can accept criticism just as readily as they dish it out. The kind of person who will fire off at the mouth but then go "oh dammit, youre right, i hate it but youre right" the moment you point out a valid flaw in their logic. Someone brash, but with a heart. Someone who can teach you that conflict is inevitable, and needed, and that saying something weird or off-putting is not the end of the world, and that arguing and complaining can actually bring you closer to someone when it is done authentically and from a place of good faith.

to find this person, keep putting yourself in places that align with the type of person you'd like to be, filled with people who are doing things with their lives that you admire. notice your initial reactions to people. who is off putting? is that a fair judgement? who are you afraid of upsetting? who expresses themselves in a way you'd never, ever dare to? most kind of unpleasant people wont be the special Prickly Friend for You, they'll just be kind of annoying people you dont want to be around. but at some point you will notice, hey actually, this person is a little off and irascible, but i notice they always come through for people. they might not be the most elegant in how they express their views, but when i think about it, i think they tend to be right. over time a person like that will prove themselves through their behavior and track record, and as you get more acclimated to their way of communicating, you'll find your voice of disagreement too.

good luck!

[sun-stricken]

Headcannoms about friendship between Bickslow and Gray? I like to think after the fighting festival he really tries to make it up to Gray.

Gray: ‘we’re chill. It’s fine.’

Bickslow: ‘my babies will now perform a dance of apology’

Also a scenario I’d like to share!

Lucy: hey, Gray I picked up your mail. Why do you have a letter from a modelling agency?

Gray: oh that. I don’t know they just keep sending me them even though I’ve told them no.

Lucy: you’ve turned them down repeatedly?! *while crying inside*

Gray: yeah? It’s weird ‘cause I didn’t even apply.

Lucy: Lucy kick!

i for some reason hadn’t considered the idea of them having a close friendship, but i am now so here! a gift !

i had so much fun with this

* my personal hc is that Bickslows dolls feel a lot of what he himself feels, and also theyre kinda like birds

* so they too try to make it up to Gray, they bring him little things they find, such as shiny rocks, pins, and other tiny objects they find

* Bickslow just nods in approval from the sidelines when they bring them to Gray

* They were both fairly awkward with each other post festival but after Bickslow gave Gray an honest apology they began to turn over a new leaf

* people find the friendship strange tbh, Gray is known as this vaguely calm and like, super normal guy, and Bickslow is just— not

* theyre surprisingly comfortable with each other

* they dont hang out a lot outside the guild, but thats not to say they dont ever,

* While they dont work the best together and it took a while be able to fight along side on another,

* If the Thunder Legion and Team Natsu have to pair up usually they do bc they’re comfortable with each other and trust can go a long way

* theyre both texting fiends, like its a problem how much they message their friends, so when they found out the other was the same oh my god was it a train wreck

* their conversations can go for hours and if you read through them youd probably have an aneurysm because the topics make no sense and Bix doesn’t even try to spell correctly

* They have gotten close and friendly but that doesnt mean theu ever know what to expect from the other, their opinions and thoughts are so different from each other, if rhey ever have the same idea its like all the stars and planet’s have aligned and world is about to end

* Bickslows hair is naturally black and Gray helped him dye it once and they deadass looked they walk out the smurf set for weeks, Bix’s bathroom looked like they murdered a hundred of them

* Gray has an affinity for collecting hand weapons (swords, spears, bows, etc) while Bickslow likes taking apart and building old bombs (actual explosive grenades, land mines, smoke/flash grenades)

* they bonded over it and talked about it in public and terrified about 20 people rhat were in earshot

* theyre both a big hit with kids

* Bickslow gets added to the long list of people who barge into Gray house unannounced

* a lot of the time they will talk (coughcomplaincough) about two different things in the same convo

* Bickslow: the cops were at my door again last night because of the inactive grenade i threw in the fountain, woke me up and everything

* Gray: ugh, i hate that, Natsu blew up a building again and Erza yelled at the both of us

* Bickslow: thats so rude, do you think i should make another one and send it to them?

* Gray: totally, she knew it wasnt me but i still got scolded

so happy ppl have realized how pretty Gray is, now we’re gonna talk abt it bc im an overachiever

* Hes been scouted by plenty of different modeling agencies over the years, which really boosted his ego but very quickly became annoying as hell bc he never even applied

* He gets a couple a month, and he accepted once just to get them off his back and found it really embarrassing bc he was everywhere

* his friends in and outside the guild bought the magazines he was featured in and teased him mercilessly and he never stepped foot in another agency ever again

* Hes really photogenic but hates gets his photo taken, most of the pictures hes in ‘willingly’ hes glaring at the camera

* he now just blocks the numbers they call him on and throws out the letter they send him, if they stop him on the street he will walk away before the conversation even starts

* when Lucy found out something inside her died a little

* she pestered him about it and said she’ll go with him! he wont even have to take the money for it! she’ll take it! 😁

* she gets shot down every time but that doesnt mean she quit trying

[earlgreytea68]

im the one who sent the lyrics questions (ty for answering!!) and i totally didnt mean to restrict you!!! by underrated i just meant like. ones you really love and want to show other ppl why theyre so great as well. feel free to rant abt them!!! apologies for bad wording haha

hahaha do not apologize for bad wording, I probably take everything way too literally!!!!

Anyway, other favorite Peterick-coded lyrics lol:

We'll make them so jealous, we'll make them hate us

The only thing worse than not knowing is you thinking that I don't know

Tell me you like boys like me better in the dark lying on top of you

Watch you work the room

This is a love song in my own way

I want to scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs, but I'm afraid someone else will hear me

And I want it so bad, I'd shoot the sunshine into my veins

Doing lines of dust and sweat off last night's stage, just to feel like you

You're a bottled star, the planets align, you're just like Mars, you shine in the sky

It's your club, so let me in, knowing how heartwarming it is inside your skin

You put my head in such a flurry, flurry, oh, freckle, freckle, what makes you so special?

This is the road to ruin, and we're starting at the end

I'm outside the door, invite me in, so we can go back and play pretend

Your hot whiskey eyes have fanned the flames

I miss missing you, now and then

The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger

I will sing to you every day if it will take away the pain

I don't know what you're doing to me, mon cheri

And in the end, I'd do it all again, I think you're my best friend

It's our time now if you want it to be, maul the world like a carnival bear set free

I said I'd never miss you, but I guess you never know, may the bridges I have burned light my way back home

I confessed, confessed to you riding shotgun, underneath the purple skies

I got too high again, realized I can't not be with you or be just your friend

Every line of Last of the Real Ones

I hate all my friends, I miss the days when I pretended with you

If you were church, I'd get on my knees

In the end, if I don't make it on the list, would you sneak me a wristband?

I got dreams of my own, but I want to make yours come true

You're the one habit I just can't kick

Stuck in the sunshine riptide

You were the sunshine of my lifetime

My mood board is just pictures of you

I closed my eyes inside of your darkness, and found your glow