#and thus deserves to see the eyes of the public

[poppy-metal]

https://pin.it/3uN5FPAAM

https://pin.it/4AU0Gvdat

can’t even convey how badly i need to be this tashi’s personal assistant/friend/confidant/? that’s always with her but people just can’t figure out your relation to her besides the fact that she’s always smiling/keeled over laughing when the two of you are together. maybe your patrick’s new wife and it’s chalked up to just a proximity thing, it’s easier for her to like you than be annoyed at your presence because it’s not like you’re going anywhere, her being married to his best friend and all. there isn’t really an explanation for why people zoom in on your lockscreen and find that it’s a photo of her that hasn’t been posted publicly.

she’s never been a rude woman, but she was noticeably closed off, drawing firm lines in what she was willing to talk about that never included her personal life. now she’s asking about people’s weekends, recounting her own with you and the plans the two of you have coming up, double + one-on-one dates that seem a little too romantic. maybe you’re the youngest of the 4, a nepo baby it girl with no set plans, no goals besides being hot and being a little chaotic. you manage to wrangle tashi into jewelry campaigns and get her to be the face of some clothing brand, keep her name alive and revive her career in a way entirely separate from tennis. let everyone know that you think she’s the most beautiful and deserving woman alive. you even convince her to take an extended vacation, a month just the 2 of you. you get caught one night after drinks, a blurry make out sold to tabloids. she plans to go scorched earth until she catches you smiling at the photo…decides it can’t be that bad.

i like imaging being her low stress private gf BUT if you wanted to make it angsty u could play up the fact that because you were born into money you’ve never really had to work for anything and don’t get that you will always be second to work in tashi’s life. it’s nothing personal, she’s just not the kind of girl to throw it all away for love. especially one that would bring questions and speculation and explanations to her family. maybe that pushes your own little insecurity button because no one’s ever wanted to- or HAD to hide you. leaves you feeling unimportant. like it all meant nothing, just a stop on the way to her. leads to the two of you butting heads one too many times, having a massive relationship ending fight. she makes it sound like she thinks so little of you, little rich girl that doesn’t know what real work is. doesn’t realize what it takes to run a family. HER family. she can’t believe how immature you are, liking tweets about “how historians will say you were good friends” (rip public likes), and with that you turn your heel, hellbent on making her feel just as shitty as she made you feel. and thus starts the PR war, taking digs and snippy comments at each other any chance you get. you call her a career obsessed psycho, she calls you a fame whore. you date the people you used to talk shit about with her. she sabotages brand deals. there’s a blurry paparazzi shot of her crying in the street comforted by art and clearly both unaware that they’re being photographed. you start partying harder to avoid the regret that’s creeping in. one night you happen to look up and see art standing there, making a quick appearance at some event neither of you could care less about. you and him had a great repartee before it all went down, he was a great sport about you getting his wife in bed and joined in a few times. for whatever reason you thought maybe that would keep going on, grinning and making your way over to him until you register how cold his eyes are, jaw set. one shake of his head is all it takes for you to leave the party in tears.

why did u stop there omg im invested,,,,,

these pictures of her.... tashi.....

i imagine you're someone she met naturally - maybe while she was getting coffee one day and a man was bothering you and she stepped in, it would be love at first sight essentially - for you, anyway - fluttering after her to ask if you can take her out, all hopeful. something about you intrigues tashi immediately - even when she purposely brings her hand up with her wedding band to push some of her hair back - she still agrees to a coffee date. maybe it'd be be nice to just talk to someone who isn't an assistant, or her husband, or a work associate -

neither of you expect how close you become. you're bubbly - someone tashi thinks she would have hated in high-school, seen as fake or whatever, but you're just.... like that. and you make her have fun when she's with you. when she comes over you make her these wild cocktails "saw this one on tiktok! look, its pink!!" and you make her dance with you to poppy music and it feels like those sleepovers she was always hearing about growing up, but never had time for. her life has always been about climbing to the top, working herself to the bone, and sure, thats not something you can relate to - but she appreciates the levity you bring to her life, regardless.

art notices how much lighter tashi is too, and a part of him is jealous, at first. tashi talks about you like you're a crush she has, like you're something special and that makes him feel.... something. but he doesn't have to feel in knots about it for long because its not long before tashi is inviting you to stay and their place - introducing you to her husband and her daughter - and art cant possibly be angry at someone who makes tashi smile like that.

although he does ask, later that night, when he and tashi are getting ready for bed - tashi had finally returned from setting you up in your own room - if tashi was into you. as a joke, mostly, but also not. and tashi had paused from fluffing her pillow and appeared to really think about it. "would it be a problem if i was?" is that she settles on. and art thinks about it. theres definitely something that gives him comfort that its not another man in his home that tashi has feelings for, even if that's misogynistic to think.

"i dont know." he says honesty. "would you leave me for her?"

and tashi laughs. no, she wouldn't. and if it did turn anything with you, she wouldn't exclude art. "i saw you check out her ass," tashi says, "and i saw her check out your dickprint. sweats, dear. we can all see."

and that's that conversation settled.

its not long after that that sex is introduced into your friendship. and for some time, its perfect. its easy - you go on these little dates and mini vacations and you stay over at her house more and more - in her and arts marriage bed, more and more - because art is an extension of tashi - you come to love him too, want him too, need him too.

but you were raised to have what you want when you want it. you get greedy. you want more of her time, their time - you start rolling her eyes when she tells you she cant come to see you because she has a dinner with art with these tennis executives and you start to zone out because you've never really understood sports and its become a sore spot. a way tashi and her husband connect, such a fundamental part of who they are and what they're built upon and you just..... dont get it. in the early days you liked to listen to her talk about it, but now you kind of hate it. it feels like a rival. a glaring reminder you're lesser than something and that's a feeling you dont like.

born rich and having people always falling over themselves to give you attention - tashi was like a breath of fresh air. she had as much money as you currently, but she wasn't born with it. she worked for it, and that made her have a realness to her you couldn't find in your real life. fake love, fake friendships, even your family is fucking fake - but tashi and art - they brought something tangible into your life, something that wasn't easy.

tashi treated you like a brat during sex - and she the tamer - and it opened your eyes to a whole new world. you loved working for her approval, because it could never be earned by throwing your money at her, it came from giving a part of yourself up and eventually that became too scary to deal with when you weren't sure if you were even permanent in her life.

tashi was never good with words and you lived for them and this eventually lead to your downfall - the breakup of the century - and its the worst heartbreak you've ever known because the only real and genuine thing in your life is gone, because she'd rather fuck a tennis racket for the rest of her life than truly build a life with you in it (at least that's how you see it)

and it hurts even worse because you lose art and lily too. lily who felt like a little niece to you. who always cheered when she saw you like you were someone cool just for existing. who you could watch all the barbie movies with and you didn't have to pretend like they weren't your favorite movies to watch.

and art.... who'd become a strange kind of friend... and boyfriend? over the years along with tashi. where tashi was ironclad art was mellow and soft and you could talk to him for hours about things you both were oddly passionate about. and he was a wonderful kisser. sex with him felt amazing. it was even better when it was all three of you, you didn't feel like some rich spoiled airhead between them, you felt like you were just a person that was well taken care of.

you dont handle the breakup well at all. tashi and art had always been more closed off than you - more quiet with their deep seeded feelings... while you were loud and screamed how upset you were from the top of your lungs. you were downright nasty about it to publicity.

no shade, full names said. trash talking boldly. calling tashi a tyrannical workaholic robot and how it was a nightmare to be her friend, and how you didn't know she was capable of warm feelings. you poked fun at art for being a lapdog and being walked like a pooch by his wife. (nevermind the fact you'd been the one to wear a collar in the bedroom)

its mean and childish and resentful and you're a bleeding wound and you wait for tashi's rebuttal. but whenever you're brought up, or something you said is brought to her attention, its met with cool dispassion. on both her and arts side. they skate over it, give a short and precise response thats somehow crueler than anything you could ever say in its simplicity, "if talking about me and my family is how she needs to heal, then she's more than welcome to it... what im focused on is..." and then she'd go into her next business venture with her husband.

it made your blood boil. it made you hurt even worse. it made you feel like you were nothing.

what you dont see is the dark circles under tashi's eyes every morning she has to brush concealer over. how sometimes the things you say sting so deep she throws her phone across the room and has to buy a new one. how very rarely she'll break down and let art hold her and she'll ask if she really is a cold unloving robot and art will tell her that shes not, that her love is different but its still real and genuine and he'll try to be a strong pillar for her but inside he wants to seek you out and find you, shake you and throttle you and tell you you're so fucking selfish and stupid because how could you not see tashi loved you? that he did too? how could you not feel it? how could you say the things you say about her, about him, when they'd let you into their bed and into their home and opened themselves up to you.

they weren't the most open people - and maybe that was something they needed to work on - but they'd been the most vulnerable they'd ever been with you. and you took their love and spit on it and said it wasn't shiny enough a rock for you.

it fucking sucked. he hated you for it. if he ever saw you in person he thought he might lose his temper.

you were starting to hate yourself too. why couldn't you be enough? why did you always want more? it definitely had nothing to do with growing up with no genuine love in your life, barely there parents, friends who only talked to you for your money, partners who always cheated on you once your sparkly quality wore off or someone even more sparkly came along. definitely had nothing to do with constantly being told you're vapid and artificial and have no substance to you and having the first people in your life treat you like you have value beyond your net worth - feel distant from you in a way you cant reach - is it any wonder you panicked?

perhaps you should have communicated better. perhaps you should have sat down and talked to them and asked how to be more a part of their life, perhaps you should have asked them to teach you more about tennis instead of growing resentful of it.

but those were things a well rounded mentally stable adult would do. of which, you are not.

at least they have eachother to fall back on.

maybe its time you got married too.

[azulas-lightning-bolt]

I truly do not know why I am letting this see the light of day, but here.

tw: really bad art under the cut

fem mako with all my little hcs applied so she doesn't look even slightly like the original. you're welcome. I was hunched over my dad's nice drawing computer (he's an architect) for about five hours trying to figure out how to digital art on krita. this is the best I could come up with.

I kind of like this so. I'm gonna yap a bit about my 'artistic intentions'. starting off there's the qipao, which was originally going to be red/gold like the ref pic I used, but then I was like. what if I made her look even more ek. and then the qipao turned green. this was mostly just me testing out shading and stuff, and I'm honestly pretty proud of the qipao in general. it's hard to see in the finished piece, but the contrast between shaded and flat colors is actually insane. I'm not too happy with how Mako herself turned out.

however.

the hair and the makeup are my newest prized possessions. like. the eyeliner. the little hair pieces sticking up from the ears. the lipstick. the little blush. aosufhoafhosaiff. also her eyes?? I wasn't sure but I really wanted to include the central green/gold heterochromia, and this was born. and her little mole. I was giggling to myself drawing that on. I thought the purple snake tatoo on her arm would be a cool nod to some of mako's concept art w an arm tatoo and also a,, backstory,, w the triple threats,, but i didn't really like how it turned out. left it on just because.

and on the topic of her arms. I don't fucking know how to draw burn scars. help. or arms, actually, but whatever. revisiting those the arms are actually so bad but I was staring at the computer screen so long I could taste the colors. I hate anatomy and that is why I write more than I draw. and the fucking lichtenberg scars. I'm on the brink. they look so cool but my hand was cramping so goddamn bad drawing ten thousand little lines on my pixelly fucking krita canvas oh my god. though if i may i would like to direct your attention to the scars on her ear. I thought that was a neat little detail but idk.

otherwise anatomy-related I tried to give her that blocky ek build as well, although I think it came out more clunky than anything. though honestly I’m not too upset as this was a practice. I might go back another day and fix it to be slightly less terrible but. whatever.

uhhh the background was supposed to be the fire nation emblem and her name as, like, a newspaper cover or something. if my handwriting wasn't terrible, I would've written on the little boxes of subtitles like, 'captian and firebender of the up-and-coming probending team, the fire ferrets' and 'the survivors of a true rags-to-riches tale; the background of the newest probenders.' so yeah that was kind of the idea with her name in the back. also she doesn’t have her scarf because uhhh. I forgot it but we’ll just. pretend. idk. I also do not know how to draw scarves so,,, yeah.

i love her so much btw i'm really mentally ill abt her. if anyone has like art tips. please share im really new and really bad at this.

ps: she does still have the eyebrows, the pointy part is just hidden under her hair.

[chelseachilly]

karma is my boyfriend

pairing: reader x mason mount summary: you face some backlash online after your relationship with mason goes public. he reminds you not to worry too much about the haters (with a little help from taylor swift) warnings: suggested smut (no actual smut though), mostly just fluff and some hurt/comfort ft. protective mason!! word count: 2.2k

author’s note: hi! this is my first mason fic, the idea for which came to me while listening to midnights (for the millionth time lol) pls let me know what you think!

There are a lot of things you have grown to love in your first few months dating Mason Mount.

You love his contagious smile and how his positivity improves the lives of everyone around him. You love waking up in his bed to him kissing your neck and murmuring “good morning, baby” in a hoarse, sleepy voice. You love watching him play football, his passion for the game so obvious and moving.

Mostly, you love him. You’ve known it from your second or third date, and it took everything in you not to admit it until he finally let those big three words slip while cuddling on his couch a few weeks ago. Now that you’ve both admitted it, telling him you love him is easier than breathing.

However, there are also things you don’t love about dating Mason Mount.

You’ve managed to keep your relationship under wraps for the first few months, with only your friends and family in on it. You haven’t posted each other on social media or taken many public outings together. When you have done for dinner or out with friends, you’ve been discreet in case there were any cameras around.

Until last week, when you were leaving a club with Ben and Kai and their girlfriends, both you and Mason too tipsy to care about potential paparazzi. The next morning, photos of the two of you kissing on the sidewalk were on the front page of the Sun. And the Daily Mail. And just about every other shitty tabloid in the country.

The Sun @TheSun ✔️- 6d Spotted: Chelsea star Mason Mount kissing possible new girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N outside popular Kensington nightclub!

You aren’t famous by any means, but because of your job in PR - Chelsea FC among your firm’s client base - the media was able to identify you. The fact that Mason and half the rest of the team follow you on social media made it fairly easy to confirm.

You’re well-versed in advising other people how to handle being in the public eye, but this is the first time you’ve had to deal with it yourself. So far, it’s been tougher than you expected.

Due to Mason’s ex-girlfriend being considerably more well-known than you, her fan base has taken to sending you death threats on social media, commenting on your old photos with digs at your appearance.

You know that you shouldn’t let these internet trolls get to you, but you can’t help yourself from scrolling through your socials, watching them continue to pour in.

You insist to Mason that you’re fine, and though it’s clear he doesn’t entirely believe you, you manage to convince him not to post about it or do anything rash. You tell him it will all blow over within a couple weeks.

It will blow over, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt right now. And when you come home from work one day, already tired and stressed and feeling low on self-esteem, only to read a tweet about how you’re an “ugly slag who doesn’t deserve Mason”, you reach a breaking point.

This is how Mason finds you when he gets to your place after training. You’re curled up on the couch in one of his hoodies, scrolling on your phone and crying so hard you feel sick.

“Y/n, what happened?” he exclaims, running to your side and kneeling next to you. “Are you in pain?”

You shake your head, barely able to speak. You pass him your phone so he can read for himself - you’ve been trying to hide most of it from him thus far, but you don’t think you can anymore.

As he scrolls through the comments on your latest Instagram post - a simple picture of you and your sister - you can see visible anger on his face, his jaw clenched. Mason isn’t often angry, and you haven’t seen this level of rage on his face even after a bad ref call or a lost match.

“Mase…” you say quietly, attempting to calm him down, but he just shakes his head.

“This is ridiculous,” he says in disbelief, tossing your phone on the couch cushion next to you. “Why the fuck would they comment those things? They know nothing about you!”

“They’re just trolls, your ex has quite the fan base,” you explain, sitting up and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, it’s just been a lot.”

“Of course it has, baby,” Mason says, his face softening as he climbs up onto the couch to pull you into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry.”

You immediately melt into his side, letting his touch comfort you. It’s amazing how quickly your negative thoughts fade away in his arms, how being with him makes everything better.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumble into his chest.

“I know, but I should still do something about it,” Mason sighs. “I’ll put out a statement asking them to back off.”

“Thanks, love, but that’s not necessary,” you tell him. “They’re mostly her fans, not yours, so you issuing a statement won’t have much impact.”

Mason sighs again in defeat - he knows that you’re the expert in this area, but it’s clear that he just wants to do something to help.

“Well, I can text her, ask if she’ll say something to her annoying fans.”

You know that he and his ex ended on somewhat okay terms, but you also know that he really would rather not contact her unless absolutely necessary.

“Mase, it’s really okay,” you say gently. “I’m not gonna ask you to do that. Us dating will be old news in a week, I’ll just keep a low profile on socials from now on or go private or something, and we can be more careful about being spotted-“

“You shouldn’t have to, though,” he grumbles, his hand squeezing your knee. “I hate this. We should be able to go out and do stuff and post pictures together without people sending you awful messages.”

“I know, babe, but this is just how it is,” you say, leaning in to peck his lips quickly. “It’s alright. I feel better already, I swear.”

It’s true - you do feel much better now that he’s home, and you decide to turn off both of your phones for the rest of the night.

You settle into the couch with a movie playing and order a bunch of takeaway and have a wonderful evening together. At some point, you even forget all about the haters on the internet, content to focus on your boyfriend.

-

The next morning, it’s Saturday, and Mason asks when you wake up if you feel like coming to the match today.

You’ve come to many of his matches before, both for Chelsea and England, but never since the public has known you’re his girlfriend. You know if you go today there will be people taking your picture and staring at you, even if they don’t mean any harm.

Given the toll this past week has taken, you just don’t have that in you right now.

“I’m so sorry, Mase,” you say, running a hand through his hair. “You know how badly I want to be there and support you, but I-“

“You don’t have to explain, baby, I completely understand,” he says, holding your waist. “I’ll miss having you there, but I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe and happy at home. Just call if you need anything.”

“Won’t you be a little busy, you know, playing football?” you tease, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his lips lightly.

Mason just chuckles. “They can sub me off for all I care.”

“Don’t say that!” you gasp, biting your lip to keep from smiling. “I’ll be watching on the telly, and I expect a goal from you, mister.”

“Anything for my girl,” Mason flashes you a cocky grin, which suddenly makes you desperately wish he didn’t have to leave right now so you could shove him back into bed and kiss it off him. “Alright, I’m gonna be late. One more kiss for luck?”

You oblige, leaning in to kiss him and running your hands through his hair. Once you pull back, he must sense your lingering disappointment at not being able to come today, because he gives you a reassuring look and cups your face in both hands.

“Try not to let those pricks online get to you, okay?” he reminds you. “It’s like that Taylor Swift song you always play. Karma’s on your side, baby.”

You laugh out loud - you’ve gone from Mason enduring you constantly playing Taylor songs when you started dating to him now requesting certain ones every time you get in the car. Not that he would ever let the boys find out, of course.

“Alright, now go before you miss warm-ups,” you smile, kissing him once more and then pushing him away.

A couple hours later, you settle in on your couch to watch the match against Tottenham. You know Chelsea are favoured to win, but you still let out a sigh of relief when Kai scores the first goal in the first twenty minutes.

In the second half, they maintain a strong defense, Kepa successfully blocking more than one strong attempt from the Spurs’ forwards.

With ten minutes to spare, Ben has possession and is moving quickly toward the goal. You assume he’s going to pass to Kai, and the other goalkeeper does too, as he’s on the entirely wrong end of the net when Ben passes to Mason. Mason shoots from a clearly onside position and scores in the top right corner of the net, resulting in thunderous applause at the Bridge.

You jump up from the couch, a huge grin on your face as you watch your boyfriend and his teammates huddle in celebration.

When the camera pans to Mason, he points right at the lens and blows a kiss with a small wink. Your heart soars in your chest as you realize he’s dedicating it to you.

Your chest full of pride and love for this man, you are suddenly reminded of why this is all worth it. It’s worth it to face any backlash that might come from being in the public eye because, at the end of the day, this wonderful guy who just scored a goal for his team on national television is coming home to you. And that’s all that matters.

The match ends with Chelsea winning 2-0. Barely over an hour later, you hear the key turning in your door, and you run to greet him.

The moment the door opens, you jump at him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. Mason catches you immediately and hugs you just as close, burying his face in your hair.

After a minute, you pull back to hold his face in both hands and kiss him senseless, making him moan slightly as you tug gently at his hair. You kiss until you’re out of breath, and then you slowly pull away and Mason eases you back down to your feet, remaining in each other’s arms.

“If this is what I get for scoring a goal, I think the club is going to be very happy with my performance this season,” he smiles, stroking your hair.

“I did love the goal, and I really loved the celebration,” you smile, running your thumb over the dimple in his cheek. “But the kiss is because I really love you.”

Mason grins even wider before sliding his hands down to your bum and lifting you up again, beginning to walk the both of you over to your bedroom.

After you’ve had an even better celebration in-between your sheets, you are laying on top of Mason’s chest, complete bliss washing over you as he traces circles on your back and presses kisses to your forehead.

You still can’t believe he’s yours - all yours, as you just very successfully reminded him. But he is, and you’re tired of hiding that.

“Hey, babe, I think I changed my mind about going private on Insta,” you say, propping your chin up on his chest. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I love you and we’re happy and I don’t care who knows that or what they have to say about it.”

Mason smiles and kisses your nose. “I’m all for that, love, but are you certain? I don’t want you getting any more hate.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking of trying a new strategy,” you smirk. “Like you said, karma will come for those internet trolls who have nothing better to do than comment on my pics. I can’t control that, but I can flaunt my super hot footballer boyfriend who scored a goal for me today.”

You grab your phone and show him the photo you took of the two of you a couple minutes ago, raising an eyebrow.

“Think it’s too much?”

Mason shakes his head, pulling you in for a kiss and grinning when you pull back. “It’s perfect. ‘Gram it, baby.”

You laugh and affectionately roll your eyes at him before opening the app and crafting your post, confidently sending it out into the world. Immediately after hitting post, you toss your phone aside and Mason pulls you in for another round, making you giggle with kisses to your neck.

You don’t check your phone until much later, and funnily enough, any hate is drowned out by many comments from both your friends and Mason’s fans, the majority of which are incredibly supportive.

You scroll through some of them together, laughing with your head still resting on Mason’s chest and his arm wrapped around you, and you know that you made the right call.

yourusername

liked by masonmount, benchilwell, & 32,609 others

yourusername karma is the guy on the screen…coming straight home to me 💙😘

tagged: masonmount

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masonmount 🥰🥰🥰

christianpulisic I am officially blaming you for Mase making us listen to this song in the locker room after the match

yourusername shhh Chris we know you’re a secret swiftie

mountfan19 ok I love this girl for Mason tbh

chelseagirl literally!! they’re so cute

thank you for reading!! 💙

[kaixserzz]

How they kiss you HCs 1

ੈ♡˳ Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi & Yoichi Isagi x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

hi guys! so im really into blue lock n i had to post smth about it soooo yeah! im still into genshin but im more hyperfixiated on blue lock.. first post after months creating this account LMAO also might be ooc but im still getting used to writing, ill make another for reo, niko, bachira and chigiri

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: kinda suggestive? (making out)

〖Rin Itoshi〗

Rin's kisses are always so telling of how he truly feels since he really sucks at expressing himself through words or expressions.

Passionate, and so desperate and clingy that even oblivious could tell. They're always so long and intimate that your lips are left swollen by the time he pulls away.

Sometimes, it seems like he's about to swallow you—interlocking his lips with yours, pushing your body against the wall to trap you in his arms, making sure the only thing you could think and feel are his lips.

He has this certain look in his eyes that's so... Loving, but nervous. Rin doesn't show it, but he's hoping he's not being too much for you, and that you won't leave him so soon.

Quietly, he'd ask if he was overwhelming you, his forehead pressed against yours as he watches your chest rise and fall in sync with your pants. He'd appreciate it if you admit if you were, but he'd gladly reclaim your lips if you tell him too, eyes brighter than before.

His hands would be all over you. First, he'd gently grab your chin to look up at him, kiss you, and his hand would caress your jawline, trailing down to your neck and collarbones, before it finds itself tracing the curve of our spine, up and down, then engulfing you in a tight hug, never letting go.

Kisses are usually private, he's not that affectionate in public. But once you've stepped inside your shared home, he's going to kiss and hold you 'till you tell him to stop.

But he sometimes couldn't help but press a kiss on your cute face when you're outside. Perhaps he saw someone staring at you longer than he liked, so he'd give your temple a small kiss, or your lips, for the apple of your cheek.

You're too good to be left unkissed. Plus, his lips would feel lonely if he doesn't kiss you for too long.

〖Sae Itoshi〗

Sae, on the other hand, is a more soft and gentle kisser, much to your surprise.

It's usually playful and light, his main goal is to see you brighten up with a huge grin on your face, an expression he has grown to adore so much it just warms up his heart.

Sae could still take your breath away, similar to Rin's HCs, but he just wants to take things easy with you, because being with you just feels right. Comforting, relaxing. A little bit of his safe haven.

He feels no pressure when you're around, you don't call him a prodigy, or remind him anything soccer related unless he wants to talk about it; you just see him for who he is, Sae Itoshi, even though he's not so sure what you see past all his achievements in soccer.

His kisses are full of emotions, despite it being fleeting and short. Appreciative, loving, yearning, and more—he always makes up his kisses being short by giving you lots and lots, letting his lips reach every inch of your skin.

Sae would wrap his arms around you and pepper soft, feather-light kisses all over your face repeatedly, wanting to hear your giggles and smile at him. He absolutely loves it when you cup his cheeks in your hands to keep him still, then kiss him so adoringly on his lips.

Always have trouble pulling away after that. When you initiate kisses, it's a whole different story.

Rake your nails through his hair and onto his scalp, and he'll melt on your body like putty and sigh contently, leaning against your touch like a cat begging for more pets.

He's so gentle and loving, it's so clear that he adores you more than everyone else. You're one of the only people who deserve a place in his heart, and thus reveal this cute, loving, soft side Sae Itoshi hides.

〖Seishiro Nagi〗

Nagi's kisses are—well, lazy, in a sense. Not in a negative way! It's actually quite endearing in your eyes, despite his lack of energy or enthusiasm regarding kissing.

Don't be fooled! This overgrown baby loves having his lips against your skin, he adores the way his lips tingle when it makes contact or the way you'd be grinning at him when he pulls away, it's just his nature to be so laidback, unlike the rest of the boys here. You can see in his eyes that he's eager to give you many kisses.

He can be so unintentionally very romantic with his kisses. While they're usually sloppy, messy, and sometimes ticklish, he'd do something unexpected (in your books) first before kissing you on the lips.

Because you expect him to just dip his head and press a kiss on you—he does that too often. So it catches you off guard when he suddenly stares at you from where he lies, eyes locked onto your face. Or he'd gently grab your waist, pull you close to him and bring you down onto his bed, wrapping his big arms around your torso and burying his head onto your neck. Or he'd press his palm at the back of your neck, caressing the skin.

And then he'd press a kiss on your lips, and they always feel so lazy—in a good way. Akin to the kisses you always share when you awake from your slumber, the first thing that comes to mind is to reach for your lover and kiss them.

When he's laying down on your lap, but wants to kiss you on the face so badly, he'd pout since he's too lazy to get up to properly kiss you. So he'd settle with your hands, taking them into his' and lovingly caressing your palm, playing with your fingers, before pressing his lips against your hand, the texture of your skin makes his cheeks buzz in delight.

Nagi licks his lips after he kisses you, eyes bright and smiling softly, as if he just tasted the sweetest candy.

〖Yoichi Isagi〗

Isagi's kisses remind you of those corny and cliche romance movies and TV shows you once watched together before. You can't help but laugh at how much of a cute dork your boyfriend is.

While inexperienced, and not the best of kissers, his enthusiasm and meaningful intentions make up for it. A kiss to wish you luck on whatever you have to do, a kiss for small celebrations like getting a high score on your tests, a kiss hello, a kiss goodbye—Isagi never misses any given chance to press his lips against yours.

He'd be restless throughout the whole day if he doesn't get a kiss from you, and while he doesn't let it bother his performance, off the field? Everyone could tell there was something off with him.

Isagi would take your hands in his', stare deeply into your eyes with nothing but utter devotion for you, and let out everything he's been holding back saying the whole day. He'd voice his love for you, his gratefulness, how gorgeous you are, and how lucky he is for having you as his lover.

Oh, his words always make you weaker for him, especially with the lovesick expression on his face. It's so cheesy, his words were similar to the ones you've heard from romance shows, but when it comes from him? They sound like music to your ears, your heart thrumming hard and your cheeks flushed.

He's so honest, not a trace of a lie in his words, only the truth. And the truth is that he loves you with all his being, and he hopes you'd indulge him in with as many kisses as he needs from you.

And how can you ever say no to Isagi? With his wide, sparkling eyes and the cute crease between his brows as he furrows them. You could only sigh before you let him devour your lips.

From there and then, he'd be kissing you so hard that you'd be dizzy afterward. You have to snap him out of it before he gets too greedy. Too greedy that he'd ignore both of your need for oxygen and keep your lips locked together, his hand at the back of your head and tilting his' to the side to deepen the kiss.

How cute he truly is, he'd always apologize when he pulls away and sees your eyes all hazy and your body practically leaning against him for support, knees too weak. His excuse was always the same, he got too into it and that your lips felt too good.

You roll your eyes and scoff, before grabbing his collar and kissing him again.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[dovand]

public service (bearvice?) announcement

i think that this website in particular needs to be aware of the existence of sloth bears. look at this dude

(image description: a sloth bear sitting hunched over on the ground. the sloth bear is broad, with thick black fur that obscures its body. the fur becomes thinner towards its face, where its muzzle and the inner corners of its eyes are splashed with very pale brown.)

the book that i'm reading (Eight Bears by Gloria Dickie) laments that conservation efforts for sloth bears are hindered by their lack of charisma—especially when compared to, say, a tiger (a creature that does pose competition re: conservation) but like. look at this guy.

image description: another sloth bear, this time standing on an uneven rocky surface. there's a certain mournful quality to its eyes. it looks almost doglike, mostly because of the fur on the sides of its face that hangs down like huge fluffy ears.

they're the only species in Melursus (one surviving genus out of three in the Ursidae family). females range from 55 to 105 kg (121 to 231 pounds), while males range from 80 to 143 kg (176 to 320 pounds). their diet is mostly ants and termites, and their mouths are suitably adapted—a lack of upper incisors lets them vacuum up more bugs, and they can close their nostrils completely.

it is worth noting at this point, i think, that sloth bears are the deadliest bears in the world by a large margin (though this seems to be largely because of expanding human settlements encroaching upon Bear Land and thus creating conflict. I Think). they have caused seriously horrible injuries and deaths but they are wild animals and we cannot blame them for this. they have inherent value despite the harm they have caused, not just because of how aesthetically appealing they are, but because they ARE. just because they exist. they are living things, so they have value.

image descriptions: the first image shows sloth bear in the middle of a step, its gaze fixed on something off-camera. its fur is hugely fluffy and luxurious, especially around the sides of its face/the back of its head and neck.

in the second image there are three sloth bears—an adult and two cubs. the adult's mouth is open, giving it a sort of vacant smile. also, it is standing against a shadowed background, such that its fur blends in with the dark behind it, rendering it one indistinct mass of bear. beside it are two small cubs. their fur is shorter and spikier, and their proportions markedly different, but their colouring is the same.

i don't have a call to action. there aren't any petitions to sign, at least not that i can see. i just think that the sloth bear deserves some more love :-)

[soul-controller]

Influencing The Influencer

Hello there everyone, this is a story that I’m pulling from my Patreon vault from March 2022 for public release here on Tumblr. If you enjoy the story and would like to see more content like this, please feel free to click here to subscribe to my Patreon.

For 34-year-old Tom, there was nothing he enjoyed more than helping people become their best selves. Either in-person or through social media, the relaxed and kind individual absolutely loved guiding individuals to becoming their best and truest selves. In fact, there were a fair amount of popular social media influences that he had helped guide, but none of them compared to Chris Nelson.

To Tom, there was nothing hotter than a cocky and hairy dude, so it was no surprise that with Tom’s help, Chris became a permanent resident of the #1 spot on Tom’s list of hottest men. With incredibly masculine and intimidating tattoos, the man was easily able to appear cocky and scary upon first glance. But even though it was true that Chris was a fairly self-centered dude, Tom loved it… especially since Chris absolutely had plenty of reasons to be so cocky now! Besides encouraging him to get those tattoos and grow out his body hair, Tom’s forward-thinking mind had helped the man become even more attractive by encouraging him to develop a healthy workout routine at the gym and a prominent self-care routine at home. The end results were absolutely flawless, as Tom’s influence was able to give Chris an incredibly buff physique along with a well-trimmed and thick beard that just further complimented his already attractive face.

While there usually wasn’t any sort of ulterior motive for these acts of kindness that Tom provided, he soon found himself rewarded one day by helping a young man who revealed himself to be some sort of warlock-in-training. His powers hadn’t fully developed to the point where he could transform himself, so Tom’s assistance in terms of helping him begin a gym regime and gain more self-confidence was extremely appreciated and thus deserved to be rewarded.

After talking with Tom for a bit, the warlock soon learned the truth behind Tom’s eagerness to help others: he himself had body image issues and constantly wished that he could be someone else. So, as the warlock suddenly had an “aha” moment, he quickly jumped to his feet and began to flip through the pages of one of his many spellbooks. Upon finding the right one, the warlock instantly cast a spell that gifted Tom with a magical ability: the gift of possession.

Given his general disbelief in all things mystical and magical, Tom still found it hard to believe that he had been gifted with such an ability until the warlock dared Tom to run into him. Unsure yet willing to give it a shot, Tom did as he was instructed and charged towards the man, closing his eyes in preparation of slamming his 220 lbs body off of the equally bulky warlock and tumbling onto the ground. However, just as he braced for impact, he suddenly found himself calmed with a sensation of full-body ripples. Confused, he opened his eyes and found himself still standing upright, but now in the body of the Asian warlock who had dared Tom to run into him.

In complete shock, he desperately flailed about in hopes of freeing himself from the man’s body. Eventually though, he was able to find a solution by pressing himself out of the warlock’s back and returning to his physical form of the black and Alabama-raised Tom. While now armed with such a seemingly powerful gift, Tom decided that it was finally time to be a little selfish and test drive some of the many bodies that he had helped mold into prime specimens of masculinity.

Of course, given Chris’ position on Tom’s list of hottest men, it was no surprise that he was the first man that Tom contacted about meeting up. Not realizing that anything sketchy was afoot, Chris enthusiastically agreed to meet up the next day for a “hang” in the park.

After a rather challenging search for a parking spot the next day, Tom finally made his way out of the car and towards the agreed-upon location in the park. Stopping as he began to enter the gated tennis court, he waved towards Chris to showcase his arrival. As the man ran towards the gate to greet Tom, the magically-gifted man couldn’t help but swoon as he watched the man’s ripped body jog over to him. Staring as the man’s pecs wobbled and his biceps bounced with each footfall was such a turn-on to Tom, but even more so when realizing that soon he would be the one in control of that body.

“Hey dude, how are you doing?” Chris said, taking a few deep inhales and exhales as he looked towards Tom. While he wanted nothing more than to answer the question, Tom’s gaze was permanently transfixed on the man’s complexion as the sweat-induced glistening of his skin indicated that the man had already been working out prior to Tom’s arrival.

Not wanting to waste any more time, the two men finally found themselves on the court and began to play some tennis. In between each grunt and groan of whacking the ball back onto the other side, the two continued to make small talk while catching up on each other’s lives. Tom’s life wasn’t nearly as eventful as Chris’ given the fact that Tom was able to quickly summarize his life in just a few volleys back and forth, but Tom didn’t feel too bad. With his boring life out of the way, this would just allow Chris to continue expanding upon his own life so Tom could as seamlessly as possible continue doing Chris Nelson’s daily requirements.

After two matches where Chris absolutely demolished Tom, the two men opted to take a water break while continuing to make some small talk. While it was nice to continue to make some small talk with the person he helped influence, Tom couldn’t deny that he was just constantly scanning the area for the perfect time to make a move. He wanted so badly to be the resident inside that hunky flesh that it was all he could think about!

As Tom continued to sip on some water, Chris’ cocky self attempted to show off his tennis prowess by bouncing a ball onto the racket while consistently flipping it. Unfortunately though, this plan quickly backfired as the ball fell off of the racket and fell away. Watching as the man turned his back away from Tom to retrieve the ball, the black man finally found the perfect opportunity to possess the tattooed hunk. Setting his water down, Tom immediately ran at a breakneck speed directly into Chris. Groaning in discomfort as a sudden pressure emerged in his back, he could only grimace and twitch as Tom squeezed his entire body into the man and took complete control. While this occurred, Chris’ head dipped downwards as his soul was pulled into a deep state of unconsciousness to leave the body an empty husk.

Not long afterwards though, the man slowly brought his head back up and opened his eyes as he returned to consciousness. However, as Chris looked at his hands and flipped them back and forth before using them to feel up his body, it soon became clear that Tom was now the one in control. “Oh fuck, I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Tom purred, his shorts beginning to immediately tent as he heard the cocky yet energetic voice coming out of his mouth. Lifting his arm up in horny curiosity, Tom leaned his new nose towards the sweaty armpit and took in a moment to smell the natural odor of his new body. Like a child sniffing a marker, Tom felt as if he was experiencing a new kind of high.

Taking a moment to look down at Chris’ tatted up and buff physique, these new hands began to eagerly explore the terrain by squeezing the muscle upon tensing up and flexing. It was just as erotic as he had envisioned, especially given the fact that he had done in broad daylight and there had been absolutely no witnesses. But as his new cock continued to leak pre-cum against his hairy thigh, it quickly became clear that he needed sexual release and he needed it now.

Running towards the fence where both men had left their belongings like their phones, keys, and wallets, the new Chris Nelson scooped up everything in his arms and made his way over to the hunk’s sportscar that he had seen countless times on social media. Unlocking the door and hopping into the front seat, the desire to get off was getting even more intrusive in his mind. Quickly realizing that he had no way of returning home before he’d cum, Tom thanked the heavens that the windows of the car were extremely tinted as he frantically pulled down his shorts to begin beating his meat.

Looking down upon dropping his underwear to the floor of the car, the man was immediately impressed by the girthy and long manhood jutting up towards him. Chris easily had a dick that could rival that of porn stars, with Tom estimating that the man was at least 10 inches long. “Fuckkkkk,” he moaned as he wrapped his right hand onto the throbbing manhood and began to slide it up and down the shaft. Despite so much real estate to cover with his hand, it only took a minute max before Chris was shooting out thick ropes of cum that immediately coated his still-glistening body.

After a quick search through Chris’ gym bag, Tom was able to quickly clean himself and speed off out of the park and towards his brand new life as Chris Nelson.

* * * * 

Since his possession of Chris Nelson over a month ago, Tom had been quick to adapt to the life he had so easily taken over. Of course though, everything wasn’t complete smooth sailing as he struggled to fully replicate Chris’ cocky and occasionally intimidating personality. But through a quick conversation with the warlock who had gifted him this power, Tom was able to learn how to pull up parts of Chris’ repressed personality and memories to help him better acclimate to his new life.

As a result though, after a week of struggling, the fans were relieved to see that Chris Nelson was seemingly back to his old self of creating humorous TikToks and making weekly podcast episodes. But while the fans were certainly happy to see this return to form, they were even more excited to find that the man was feeling even more liberated when it came time to showcasing his body. Given Chris’ already inflated ego merging with Tom’s own ego, this new Chris Nelson was quick to recognize just how damn sexy he was. Due to this, his socials soon began to lean in even further to the thirst traps that he posted, but now instead of every couple of months, it was practically every other day! No one was complaining though, especially as the fans were quite eager to share their own demands for Chris to open up his own OnlyFans and share more of his glorious body to his adoring fans.

While Tom was rather fluid when it came to his sexuality, Chris’ overbearing ego and heterosexuality was making quite a dent in terms of his desired sexual partners. While it was still hot to imagine using this bulky body of his to top a man, Tom was allowing Chris’ personality take charge and help him understand more about just how great straight sex was. Although the intercourse was still something he was adapting to, Tom absolutely loved the power trip that he felt when he would bring back women to Chris’ place and take charge in the bedroom. Watching their dainty hands and well-manicured fingers run along his buff and sculpted torso was quite erotic to watch, especially since it just made him feel even bigger than he already was.

Even though the idea of living life as Chris Nelson forever seemed like a dream come true, Tom couldn’t resist the concept of trying out another body soon. He still had quite the repertoire of men that he helped mold into the undeniable hunks they are today, so it seemed that soon enough he would be leaving Chris to give another man’s body a test drive…

[homemadehaunting]

From the river to the sea

hey all! firstgrave here

I was somewhat recently banned on tumblr for “targeted harassment”. the post that got me banned? a post in which I said Israeli settlers and former IDF soldiers had actively engaged in ethnic cleansing and genocide. 

I attempted to appeal the ban but have gotten nowhere, and I do see this as the final reason in why I should stay away from tumblr as a whole. I am no longer interested in coming back to tumblr, and will be making no future efforts to do so.

however, some important updates I want to give: many people whom I was mutuals with were there for my entire law school journey, the passing of the bar, and my entrance into the career of public defender. this is something I’ve been dreaming of and working towards for years now. 

in october, the union which represents the office of public defenders I work with, and the majority of public defenders in NY entirely, proposed a resolution on the genocide in Palestine, reinforcing the rights of union members to speak out against apartheid and ethnic cleansing and calling for an end to Israeli occupation. in response, four Zionist members of the union have commenced a lawsuit in attempt to get an injunction against the union members voting on the resolution. the union has now filed a motion to move the case to federal court, thus removing it from the jurisdiction of conservative Long Island state court judges, but also to have the action deemed as an unconstitutional infringement on free speech. 

since the lawsuit was filed, a supervisor at my office has cursed out myself and the 8 new attorneys I was hired with, telling us to “get the fuck” out of her office if we don’t support Israel, and we do not deserve to work there if we do not agree with her. so now we are also in the process of filing a union grievance and EOC claim against the supervisor. this has put us at significant odds against management and we may very well lose our jobs over this (we are at-will employees for the first 3 years of our contract, so while discriminatory firings are illegal, it would be near impossible to prove in this instance.) I am likely to lose my dream job that I have worked years to reach over this. 

The attempts to silence any and all people who speak out against the atrocities being committed with our tax funding cannot be ignored. When we look back at the atrocities of history and wonder how they were allowed to occur, it is because many people feel more comfortable turning a blind eye to the suffering of those “other” to them, and those that do care are faced with coordinated censorship campaigns armed with threats of loss of employment, homelessness, incarceration, violence, and even death. 

In the time all of this has occurred, thousands of men, women, and children have been senselessly and brutally massacred by Israeli forces, aided by other world powers. The US is actively and happily funding the genocide of Palestinians, as well as Britain, Canada, and other imperial nations. Babies have been abandoned and denied humanitarian aid, cities have been leveled, and families have been devastated. 

Attached here is the proposed resolution of the legal aid union. I stand by it wholeheartedly, and ask others to share it as well. There is no excuse for silence or complacency in the face of genocide. Those who are not in Palestine, have not witnessed and experienced the horrors in which every Palestinian citizen has been forced to endure, do not get the benefit of turning a blind eye. 

May we see a free Palestine in our lifetimes. 

[euphiea]

[NEW FILE UPLOADED]: STATUS: LEAKED//CORRUPTED ↳ Black Panther ↳ Shuri Udaku ↳ Alternate Universe ↳ Synopsis: Absurdity colors the wind, the true song of Aquarius. White doves and weeded lawns bring abundance, and though tradition condemns the latter, it took an absurd eye to deem a dandelion a wishing flower. It took an angel condemned by God to grant it so.

Euphoria’s Annotations: ##Based in 1800s || ##Tribbing || ##Arranged Marriage || #Inspired by: This Fic by Wiinters on AO3 & Queen Charlotte (Bridgerton) || ##Shuri Has A Dirty Mouth

[ATTACHED MESSAGE]:

↳ EUPHORIA: I feel like domspace shuri is more of a dirty, slutty talker than a sadist. Expect heavy edits over time. You are not british here.

Love conquers hate. The elders of the living generation have tried to pass this down, but to no avail, for they leave the context out of it—leave it up to the youth to interpret on their own, without any clue on where to start, what to think. The repetition of the saying with no further explanation rendered it tasteless, wisdom that’s carried nations is now a graying chatterbox that no one pays mind to.

The planet is run by two powerful, opposing kingdoms by the names of Wakanda and Vymont. The war has stretched on for centuries, legend has it the land of Jormil was once rich, nutrient soil—until bloodshed soaked the grounds in great volume, far surpassing the limits of its thirst, and therefore turning it into a vacant, hilled land of wild clay.

As the elders passed and the world modernized as to not be left behind by expansion, the war over resources grew to be a nuisance. The people despised the other side, while the ones who wore the crown could not figure a vital reason to continue fighting. In typical history, when nations quarrel it’s ended by two means: total conquering, or union. This case was different, what could be done when the kingdoms simply grow tired?

The story needed to be good, believable. Enough to throw salt on any fires before they emerge. A fairytale with a valuable lesson, love conquers hate.

Thus, the papers sealing your marriage were drawn.

Princess of Vymont and Princess of Wakanda, two young women who met and fell madly in love, despite being rivals. Desire bewitched you as your knights fought, carelessness revealed your schemings much to the rulers’ horror. Efforts that could move mountains and change the weather, the seasons at will, what it took for either to come around. Now, you join Princess Shuri Udaku hand in hand, allowing love to light the way.

Good, believable.

It’s your duty as Princess to endure for the sake of your people. Your marriage with Shuri was sealed in ink weeks before the matrimonial kiss, and even by that time, you hadn’t spoken much. Complete strangers too skilled at lying for your own good.

You assumed that once you married, once your nations united, you wouldn’t have to see her. Sure, all eyes were on you, closely watching your faces and mannerisms for any chances of fraud, but Shuri is a busy woman, the innovative leader of sciences and technology, she had no real time for you.

“Have you consummated the marriage?”

Unfortunately, your mothers were much keener than the public. Queen Ramonda’s question was met with stiff side-eyes and silent nods, and if that didn’t give it away, it was the five foot distance standing between you.

It’s been five months since your marriage, and three weeks since your holy matrimony was sealed in stone. The months leading up to that night, Shuri made astounding efforts to be a wife to you, despite you claiming she did not need to. You were fine with lying, maybe even a quickie in the case that the Gods and Ancestors happen to be vindictive. Shuri denied, saying she didn’t want to touch you as a stranger when you’re her wife, for you didn’t deserve that, and it wouldn’t feel right.

She moved into your gifted estate and slept in a room three halls over. Three months of dining together, painting, gardening, attending balls and picking out fabrics for elaborate complimenting gowns—newlywed activities, a real honeymoon. Your time spent had ignited a spark, a spark that morphed into an unrecognizable blaze of red heat that charred your skin that night of your first time.

Your first time may be your only time, and it irks you.

The fact that you’re irked, irks you.

You woke up in an empty bed, rung the bell, and as your servants tended to you, you asked them where your wife went.

“She’s at the lab for today. She wanted me to tell you she’ll be home by dinner!”

Shuri kept her promise, she returned about an hour from supper while you were in the garden, reading. The next day, the same servant repeated the same thing, except Shuri will be home a little after dinner, and the next day, she’s going to be staying late at the lab, don’t wait up.

Secretly, you were hurt. Shuri never stopped being a busy woman, but you feel as though she merely prioritized you for one thing, and now that you’ve given it to her, she’s lowered your name on the list.

You could confront her, but for what? You married to end a three hundred year war between nations, not from being in love with one another, like Prince T’Challa and Nakia. You told yourself that you’d get over it, but you overheard your servants gossiping:

“What of Rineea, now that the Princess is married?”

“Riri? She has been spending her time at the lab… I halfway expected it to be a call off situation when they married, but that’s unrealistic, huh?”

“I did too. But they were together for a minute, when I heard of the Princess’ engagement, I assumed it was to her. Now imagine my shock when I found out it was a Vymont.”

“Thee Vymont. I am just the cook, but… Put a Princess and a coworker in front of me, and tell me to choose a spouse. But I’m just the cook.”

“Right.”

Right, you’re a Vymont. A crucial detail so easily forgotten. You’re staying on Wakandan soil, holding a piece of Wakanda’s crown, but in no way are you Wakandan. You’re still an outsider, trapped in a marriage with someone who will never see you as anything but. Although, Shuri is a generous sweetheart with you. She told you once how stupid she thinks the war is, how she’s overcome with glee now that it’s over.

“The war has ceased, and I get a beautiful wife as a token,” She had said to you, standing irritatingly close, “And the prettiest Vymont has to offer, at that.”

You told yourself you just aren’t home at the same time, but the possibility she’s been skipping out on you for a girl she has real feelings for, real history with, sharing real similarities with as a Wakandan scientist—meanwhile, you paint, study music, and teach horse riding to children. Shuri said you were the prettiest Vymont, not the prettiest in general. The Wakandan must be show-stoppingly gorgeous, how silly is it to think one night with a Vymont could amount to many with a Wakandan?

It’s three hours until midnight, the warm bodies of your servants is what’s stopping the estate from growing cold. Ethereal are the full moons in November, traces of clouds brush the stars’ cheeks, the wind blows away October’s remnants, and strips crooked branches naked. The daytime servants are tucked away in their own, the nighttime servants are dutifully buzzing; you know the estate well enough to avoid being seen by them.

“Have you changed—“

You abruptly pause your journey mid-step at the sound of a servant’s voice. You’re at a four way stop, of sorts, near the ballroom. Tongue bitten, fingers digging into the black silk of your nightgown, you take a peek around the corner.

Two brown skinned women in uniform, one holding a lantern, the other a stack of aprons resembling the ones they have situated atop their ragged, black dresses. You didn’t hear the door close, but they’ve just come out of a room, tension releases your shoulders as they walk in the opposite direction of you.

Still, you tiptoe across the way. If they catch you, they’ll gaslight you to death about cold-driven sicknesses and royalty needing their beauty rest until you agree to return to your chambers.

The estate’s grand halls are a gothic black with bleached carpet. The moon’s essence gleams through high windows, illuminating your path in a way you’re thankful for, the hall you just journeyed from had no windows and it’s not wise to carry a candle when sneaking around. Yes, it can be blown out and re-lit, but you’re not in the mood for extra activities. At least, not those sorts, of extra activities.

The name of the game is distraction, you’re looking to blow off some steam by walking around. Being alone in your room, underneath your sheets with your thoughts, is poisonous. You’re meeting with congress tomorrow to discuss plans regarding a new terrorist group that’s been attacking countries under Wakanda, to which the Princess herself will be riding with you. At close proximity in a three hour carriage ride with the curtains drawn.

It’s record breaking how fast your sheets became sweltering, each scenario you pushed away was followed by a new one, filthier than the last. They were all painfully unrealistic, you know this, the only reason you shared that night was to affirm your marriage. The weighed rock on your finger is for your people, for the greater good, your wife’s inventions center just that.

Shuri is resilient, hot-headed. She performs her duties well, a brilliant leader for the intellectual world, and her jokes are funny. Prince T’Challa, her brother, is charming and even-tempered compared to Shuri. He doesn’t raise his voice, his bearded face hosts a permanent smirk, T’Challa is the definition of a dashing prince. Shuri is nothing like him. Humbleness is the only trait they share, really.

She has a smart remark reserved for any situation, she’s attentive to everything, listens even when it’s assumed no one is. One thing you admire in her is her polite streak, she’s genuinely respectful. Shuri treats her staff as coworkers and her coworkers as friends. She’s a friendly, warm hearted woman that gives without a second thought.

She’s a giver indeed, in more ways than one.

You stop at a grand wooden door. You don’t need to look around to know it’s Shuri’s room. No guards crowding the hall, she still hasn’t returned.

Teeth pulling the skin at your lip, you allow your knuckles to brush the smooth wood. Three weeks ago, you were pinned against this door. Days prior she revealed to you her taste for dominance, it was brief and fleeting, like the hint of a character death in a book, you didn’t take it to heart.

“Come on, talk to me. Nothing to say now, my love?”

“Is this what gets you off, baby? I can make you cum like this?”

“Everytime you close your legs, I’ll stop.”

Arousal throbs at your core. You’re bad at following your own directions, then again, this is your fifth walk this week.

You were back from a ball that night. Your corset was fitted to accentuate your tits, neatly placed was a silver cross pendant necklace—Shuri’s favorite on you, silver. She smelled heavenly that night, when she pulled you taut to her body as you danced, you felt how tense she was and smiled. You knew you did that.

Courtesy as the new Princess of Wakanda, you mingled with the guests that night, danced with civilians and giggled as they held you close, akin to how she did. They spun and dipped you, kissed your hand, sprayed you with compliments, by the end of the night you were glowing, and Shuri’s grinning face called you ravishing.

You didn’t think your sly little tactic worked until you got in the carriage. You were met with a silence so sudden, so solemn and heavy, it shocked you. Shuri’s gaze locked you in place, her expression unreadable, uncharacteristically so. She didn’t speak the entire fifteen minute ride to the estate.

A frown tugs at your lips. She claimed you as her wife, no one else’s. Perhaps she only meant it then, as a one-night medium for blowing off steam.

Perhaps your connection is meant to be this way, her in one corner, you in the other. Your marriage is one of obligation, a peace treaty, it’s meant to be shallow. After all, she’s Wakandan, and you’re of Vymont, your bloods don’t mix, they never have. It’s stupid to believe they ever could, your alliance was for the people, not you.

Indeed. It’s high time to get her out of your head. It’s silly to crave someone with every bone in your body when they’ll never see you in that way.

“Princess?”

You jump out of your skin, braids knocking against the wood as you whip around.

Behind you is your wife and her royal adviser, Okoye, wearing long, extravagant black fur capes with mini hills of melted snow collected on the hoods and shoulders. Okoye’s lantern allows you to see the way Shuri’s eyes are soft, adoring. Your heart lurches, her fatigue is blatantly obvious, and, still, she’s so gentle.

You suck at following your own directions. You train your attention on Okoye, whose expression is a stark difference from Shuri’s.

“What are you doing out here, and wearing that? It’s freezing,” She presses, scrunching her eyebrows. Your outfit isn’t as skimpy as she makes it seem: a black, thigh-length, silk nightgown with slippery straps, a matching silk robe that trails your footsteps, and black slippers. You cross your robe over your torso and tie it with a loose knot.

“I was only taking a walk-“

“—And where is Aneka?!”

“Enough, Okoye.”

The royal adviser slowly kisses her teeth, but quiets at the royal’s command nonetheless.

“Princess, is everything alright? Do you need anything?” Shuri says, and frowns when you shake your head. “It is almost midnight. You should be asleep.”

You hate this, you would have rather been caught by your servants than your wife.

“I’m fine. As I stated, I was merely just walking around,” You reaffirm, tucking a braid behind your ear before twirling its end. “I was not expecting you, how were your travels?”

“Cold,” Okoye answers, you squint at her.

“We caught wind of a blizzard approaching, so we left earlier than scheduled. I’m so glad I caught you, let’s talk more inside.”

“Ah, I think I should return to my room. We present to congress in the morning.” You tangle your fingers behind your back, feigning a look of disappointment. Shuri tilts her head.

“It’s funny you bring that up,” She says, “That’s what I need to talk to you about. I’m sorry to keep you up, Princess, but I would let it go if I could debrief you on the way.”

Any word of protest dies on your tongue when she ghosts her hand on your hip, brushing past you to open the door. As she guides you inside her room, she bids Okoye a good night.

Shuri doesn’t give you a second to breathe, when the doors close she pulls you into a kiss, sliding her hands along the silk of your waist. She holds you taut against her, a whimper sounds at the back of your throat and she sighs, immediately deepening the kiss. The musk of outside clings to her, it’s not an unpleasant scent, it’s subtle and bearable.

You confusedly try to wrack your brain for conclusions, explanations on how this can be if there’s crucial information to be shared, but the haze that clouds your judgment slaps you away.

You’re chocolate to her burning hands, melting almost too easily into her. The cold, damp fur tickles your palms as you slide up her arms before pulling the hood off. Her hair isn’t detangled enough for you to play in, too dry for a comfortable attempt, so your nosy fingers fall to her neck instead. Arousal is the fire that melts your organs, steadily burns you from the inside out, all you can do is pant and weakly push at her, sweat beading your forehead.

“You’ve been hiding from me, my love,” She mutters against your lips as she very subtly ruts into you, her declaration sends a surge of desire straight through you. She squeezes various areas of your torso as if to leave handprints on your body, she’s asking—pleading for permission to touch you and it’s so hard to think, her and her fucking mouth make it so hard.

Your tongue is too heavy for words, when you buck your hips she furthers her point by sliding a hand between your legs to rub your pussy over the silks.

“I never imagined you to be so cruel.” Shuri guides you back by your waist, and you let her, relishing in the feel of her kissing down your neck; as far as you’re concerned, she can do whatever she wants to you. “How much longer were you planning to deprive me of this? Of you?”

Your back hits a wall, Shuri moans and reconnects your lips—before the smoke can thicken, you break away.

“Have you been sleeping with other people?”

“No.”

Shuri has a special ability, she can move space, manipulate the particles that make up your reality, as she pleases. It’s the only explanation for how heavy the room is now that she has you caged, her amorous breaths lightly fan your eyelashes, her expression is difficult to make out in the dark, but her presence is telling enough. It’s her special ability at play.

Her response is incredibly quick, but she’s not lying. Your lips are chapped, you haven’t done much, is a simple kiss this titillating, to this degree? She’s not lying, but you don’t believe she’s telling the entire truth.

You hum, looking off to the side. Shuri notices, you believe that she’s lying to you, though she swore at the podium she never would; she pays it little regard, there’s other, more pressing matters on her mind, it’s been three weeks since she’s had you, and she prayed to Bast that she got to see you before your trip.

“..You are captivating, my love,” Shuri breathes, “Take off your clothes and lie on the floor.”

It’s her special ability that wills you to pull the knot of your robe a-loose, the garment cascades to the floor and Shuri never takes her eyes off of you, even when she unclasps her cape and tosses it across the room. She’s wearing black trousers and a beautiful white blouse with frills adorning the chest, which suffers the same fate as her coat when she tugs it off.

—

Your legs are stretched to the hint of exertion, halfway numb due to how your wife is situated on top of you, but it’s welcomed, for it gives her access to you, access to your cunt that throbs with each rock of her hips.

Shuri’s wetness trails down your lips to join the puddle dirtying your silks, her breaths fan your ear, accompanied by deep, throated moans that slip without her permission. It’s not as obscene as the slick sounds of your cunts, but it heats your face, blood roars underneath your cheeks.

“You’re enjoying this. Look at you.”

Shuri’s taunting contributes to your lightheadedness. Pleasure is a sea of waves far too rowdy for you to handle, a soft mewl pulls you further in its depths, the only answer you can muster is a nod, eyes struggling to stay open, weakly clawing at her back.

If her people heard any of the things she’s saying, any of the things she’s whispered in your ears when no one is looking, shock would turn their bodies to stone. The months leading up to your first time were torture. Your image matters, it’s imperative you have a good reputation or you risk being overthrown, a lesson your father sat you down and talked to you about when you were 5, and you’d thrown a hissy fit during a festival.

“There’s a mask attached to the crown.” — A quote you once read in a fantasy book, written by a civilian. You internally squealed, they had no clue how correct they were, and they never will, for your mask wouldn’t allow it. It’s partially why you like Shuri, she’s a princess herself, and you’ve seen firsthand the stark difference between Princess Shuri of Wakanda, and Shuri Udaku.

“Can I make you cum like this, beloved? Hm? Make my pretty wife cum all over herself, from a little humping,” Shuri slurs through pants, her clit twitching as it glides along your folds. Her and her fucking mouth is going to be the death of you, she’s so incredibly raunchy when lust impassions her, as if arousal is a poison, a sickness.

Shuri stills her hips at your lack of response, and you whine, jerking into her.

“Yes, Shuri, ‘m gonna cum like this,” You plea, nipples brushing her own as your back arches, “Keep going, please please.”

She shudders, the way you say her name is criminal. Her hips resume their pace, your eyes loll to the back of your head.

“Good girl,” Shuri practically purrs in your ear, “Good girl.”

She sits up to pin you by your shoulders, holding you in place as if you were ever going anywhere. Her pace grows harsher, her grip comes with a resounding ache that fans the flames licking your belly, you’re convinced Shuri can do anything, say anything, and it’ll dampen your arousal the very same.

“I want to fuck you with a toy, just like this. I’ll make you ride me ‘til it hurts, ‘til you can’t think. You won’t know what to do with yourself.”

Shuri’s eyes are trained on your face, you feel moreso than see it, for it’s her special ability. She’s an obvious woman, says what she means and means what she says, even blunt to her own detriment, at times. Her words stir something in you, force their way through your ribs to caress the heart that’s forgotten it’s meant to beat. The knot in your belly is steadily tightening, if she stops you truly might cry.

The approach of her own release is telling from the way her pussy throbs and pulses along your lips. She lowers her hips, dropping more of her weight to increase the pressure where your desires conjoin, knowing she has you locked in your position. You wonder if she’s holding anything back at the moment, how far her limits are from this point.

“And you’ll take it for me, won’t you? Like the obedient girl you are.” And you shudder, nodding incessantly to the jerky rhythm of your tits.

“Shuri, ’m so close,” You whimper, legs twitching. “Please don’t stop.”

She would be a fool to do so, knowing this she nods anyway, whispering under her breath curses not fitted for a woman of her stature. Pleasure is a sea of waves too rowdy for you to handle, it creeps on you, bringing with it an insurmountable pressure you’d squirm to flee if Shuri weren’t holding you still.

If you asked, she’d say she’s holding you in place to keep the angle right, and it’d be a half truth. She’d leave out the sick satisfaction that surges through her when doing so, the hint, or inkling, that you’re trapped with no other choices. You’re water through her fingers in everyday life. Shuri gulped down her desires when pursuing you, she wanted to go at your pace, do things to your accord, otherwise she’d risk being seen as clingy and eager.

You didn’t believe her earlier when she told you she hadn’t slept with anyone, but she was telling the truth. The entire carriage ride home, Shuri was squirming in her seat, resorting to palming her pussy over her pants to satiate the teenage urge to get off right then and there, for she couldn’t stop thinking of you, in various positions, various settings, far more scandalous than the privacy of her room, far less lady like for a woman of your stature.

Your wife’s eyes roll to the back of her head. “(Y/N), cum for me, Princess, let me see it.”

The air is punched from your gut, your mouth drops open in a silent scream as you release, your stomach twitching at each wave that passes. It’s the feeling of your pussy’s incessant pulsing coupled with the dashing sight of you that drives Shuri to follow, she cums with a broken whimper, her head lolled over her shoulders.

“Yes, like that, just like that,” She breathlessly encourages, hips slown to drawn out thrusts, “Doing so well for me, my love, so so well.”

Shuri’s name is but an anchor, you repeat it under your breath over and over to keep yourself grounded. Her arms jelly, you catch her before she can completely collapse on you—not that you’d mind.

Weeks, she’s had to smile in people’s faces, feign interest in their lives, and come back to an empty home. Weeks, she’s had to camp in her lab to ensure her coworkers’ tasks were done to perfection, and it’s imperative they are—they were not. Weeks, she’s had to live off simple interactions with you, long hug, light conversation, and then she’s pulled away.

Weeks, she’s had to tell herself the lives of others are important too, civilians are people too, if not she’d be under you—or on top of you—all the time, enjoying the serenity your aura provides.

It’s scary how quick it’s come to this. Five months, you met on a chilly day, bedded on a windy night, and now her windows are blanketed in frost. Five months, and the signature of her human coding is tattooed on your finger, the skin where your wedding ring rests.

“Have you been sleeping with other people?”

Shuri makes a mental note to address it tomorrow, at an appropriate time.

[overandundertarot]

PAC: The embarrassing situation;what was it really like?

This pac aims to take a look at an embarrasing situation you experienced and how it was actually perceived by the people around/involved versus how you perceived it. Inspired by my late night thoughts lol.

Please pick a pile(1-4, left to right)

Pile One.

Cards; 6 of wands, Queen of cups, The World reversed, Knight of Swords reversed.

I'm seeing that this wasn't even an embarrasing situation for you, Pile One. It's more of a source of anxiety. You were very much inside your head the entire time. The situation was very public, there were a lot of eyes and alot of people. It was an event/gathering celebrating a victory/achievement. Maybe with family/friends or even coworkers who you've developed a bond with. These are people who are able to have an impact on your self esteem/inner child. During the event you felt stagnant. I just heard; "They're handing out scraps." Whatver praise or achievement you received felt hollow, you felt like you didn't deserve it. Either you didn't work hard enough, the quality of your work was not good enough, you weren't where you wanted to be. "I could do so much better than this, I am capable of more." A general dissatisfaction and dissapointment in yourself and anything that you were able to produce with your hands. I'm also getting the sense of you settling. You had much higher ambitions for yourself but you didn't tell anyone, so no one could reprimand you for failing thus you doubled down on the self loathing as a self inflicted punishment. You were way too hard on yourself, Pile 1. Regardless of what your aspirations were, a win is still a win. You managed to accomplish something so be proud that you were able to do that. Other people saw you as the queen of cups in this situation. Someone passionate and incredibly creative. They felt that you deserved the praise and were very much happy to see you get your flowers. They feel that you are a team player who is dedicated to seeing everyone thriving and being happy.

Pile Two.

Cards; Page of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles, Queen of Wands.

Pile 2, for some of you this situation happened when you were younger, for others you are on the younger side and this happened more recently. But it is a situation where you were inexperienced and expressing eagerness and fascination; excitement. It was a situation where this eagerness went against you and you experienced a backlash because of your inexpirience/poor skills. With the abundace of pentacle cards, I'd say that this was involving your career or something you were organising and planning to bring into fruition like a project/party. Whatever you were planning, it didn't work out. There were many issues with poor planning/execution. Some of you had tried to go for a cheaper option, cutting corners etc that severely undermined the result. Some people didn't believe in you from the get go and were like 'I knew they'd fail.' Despite this, you felt very inspired and in your element. You might have actually been feeling vey timid and hesitant, I think at one point you realised that you had bit off more than you could chew. All in all, it was a learning experience. I think its very commendable that you tried to jump in and try your best anyway!

Pile Three.

Cards; Death reversed, Knight of wands, Ace of wands.

Pile 3, the situation was an emotional one. You could have had an emotional outburst/reaction. Someone told you something and you burst into tears and denial. This can range from emotional breakdowns like falling into a depressive state to outbursts such as erupting into tears, hysterical shouting, arguments and confrontation, attacking someone in anger etc. You were not in your right mind and were reacting to news/information that greatly upset you and would mean a change in your life. Like a break up, maybe you were fired. The path presented did not please so you chose to act in denial in hopes of reversing that. It seems that your reaction was not taken as negatively as it could have been. For the people who threw the tantrums, they had the desired effect and you were placated in the moment, but it was only for the moment. Temporarily. For others who went into depressive states etc someone around you or you took action towards healing/making you feel better. However, other people mostly perceived you as someone unstable, who chooses to use weird methods to get what you want. You felt accomplished though, your reaction had the desired outcome. It was a messy/uncomfotable situation but it had a favourable ending for you.

Pile Four.

Cards; 3 of cups, 10 of swords reversed, Ace of wands.

Pile 4, this embarrassing situation was more of a collaboration. You used to hang around some problematic people/were in a group with some people or you had a collaboration with them. You are embarrassed to be associated with these people. There could have been some drama, or just poor quality work as a result of whatever you were doing. Nothing you feel proud to call you own or say you stand for. A lot of people talk about what happened between you and those people, people like to talk about the drama that could have occurred. Either way, whenever they or your association with them is mentioned you feel embarrassed. Other people don't really perceive your association with them quite negatively though. It seems they are willing to give you a chance, look at your better qualities and judge based on those. In regards to how this association has personally affected you, aside from the embarrassment, is that you are not willing to abandon your instincts in trusting people. You follow your own intuition and rythym rather than going with the flow that feels wrong. Also, you've grown. You recognise that you could have held destructive/detrimental beliefs and are open to changing your point of view.

*************

That's it! If you liked this pac and would like to book a private reading with me, you can do so here.

[heliphantie]

It's not symmetrical or perfect But it's beautiful, and it's mine

Some long ramblings about Isabela under 'read more':

I originally didn’t use to be interested in Isabela, brushing her aside as yet another emancipated princess character, but with time, I figured she’s more dimensional and distinctive character of her kind, and possibly, most multifaceted one next to Bruno. More than that, the two, as opposite they look on the surface, have enough things in common for him to have more rapport with her than with Mirabel, as movie seems to suggest.

First of all, magnitude of their powers. All of original triplets have got gifts that surpass any others in the family, outright divine in nature – abilities of healing, conduct the weather and foreseeing future. While out of third generation, Isabela has got an ultimate divine power – of bringing life out of thin air, and in accordance with her emotional state no less. Thus, her powers also require thorough control, which may be another hidden reason for her always needing to keep herself straight. And it’s apparent too, bearers of greatest gifts are also under hardest pressure, with Bruno and Isabela even visually (in the sequence of “Dos Oruguitas”) indicated to be most subjected to.

Second thing is, external and internal presentation. Out of all characters, the two have the most conflict between public perception and genuine expression, and an array of different facades in case of both – from impassive and contemptuous to caring and heartful. We don’t get to see any objective view of Bruno’s behavior in the past, but from how he’s perceived in retrospect, it appears he used to give off impression of distant and uncaring to people around him, which could’ve been simply an effect of his professional duty, including acting impartial to the events he gets to witness as local oracle and avoiding personal interference with anybody’s fate (just my conclusion, anyway). Which is rather similar to Isabela’s acting around people – pleasant, but not extremely intimate, more like performer than participant, and impression of egoistic, haughty person she leaves on Mirabel. (Did encounter with and insight of real Bruno give no clue about what her sister’s situation would be? It’s not a Mirabel-bashing article, but she’s one dense protag, I must say…) In that, they’re two people in family who appear to bottle their feelings and maintain the constructed façade the most of all (“So much hides behind my smile…”). In addition, as parallel to Isabela’s built image of conventional feminine “perfection”, Bruno has his own invented persona of Hernando, which seemingly serves as “perfect”, and more stereotypically masculine version of himself. (Their natural selves are, of course, still properly feminine/masculine, just of more subtle and nuanced variety.)

And what is fundamental trait shared between two: the extreme selflessness and devotion, and sense of responsibility, being prone to self-sacrifice with long-lasting consequences and openly declaring their willingness to give it all for the family. Which also slips into coming to well-intended, but misguided, and even hurtful in perspective, decisions: no, making yourself a traitor in the eyes of your relatives, never getting rewarded for your good will, while for noble reasons, is not going to bring family together, and neither does confining yourself to lifetime of fake love relationship (and hell knows how suppressed discontent seeping through would manifest itself in the end of things… Mariano dodged a bullet, also not deserving such misery). Anyhow, willfully getting your freedom cut short for the rest of your life for the sake of wellbeing and benefit of your loved ones is tremendous sacrifice (and yet again, it’s such a short sight on Mirabel’s part to take confession of that sacrifice lightly, beside of not realizing she is a case of Isa’s predicament, what with approving a proposal behind her sister’s back). And that’s where Isa is deconstructing Disney rebellious princess archetype even before her breaking out: unlike Jasmine or Merida, she actually holds her family in priority over whatever carefree life she could lead, and makes mature move, total opposite of pampered princess Mira thinks she is. It should be said, marriage is not something exactly forced upon Isa, but rather silently accepted on the assumption she does return affection of would-be fiancé. While Isabela seemingly doesn’t have the same luxury as Jasmine to reject suitors left and right (it doesn’t seem there’s a lot of options…), nor fiancé in question is as obnoxious as any of Jasmine’s, or, say, Gaston, she definitely has enough authority around the town to deem any suitor unworthy of herself or make her own choice, so she’s not that submissive in that situation as it may look. (And nothing indicates any of older Madrigals were forced into arranged marriage, which makes me think that is not entirely in Alma’s hands to decide on whom or if her children going to marry.) It appears, based on observation of similarities between Alma and Isa being possible reason for her singling the granddaughter out as her favorite, Alma might just have been projecting her own perfect romance on the young couple, being convinced they’re destined for each other just as she and Pedro were, and have to make up for her own abruptly cut matrimonial bliss, not taking in account Isa doesn’t have to be her carbon copy. Note that, entering marriage, Isa is not simply getting what she (presumably) wants, she puts herself in a role of next (after Julieta, most likely) matriarch, a head of family, a ruler of town, accepting huge responsibility, quite an opposite of effort-free fairytale life.

Which brings me to connection between characters affirmed in the movie itself: what was exact output of Bruno’s words – either prophetic or not – for Isabela? She is the only one, whose prophecy wasn’t appearing to fulfill itself, and she doesn’t comment on it even in the moment of honesty. We never get closure on that issue, let alone any conversation between two (because poor Bruno was denied of opportunity explaining himself properly by his kind relatives…). One answer that seems to be likely correct in context of Bruno’s reputation: because his vision always undoubtedly becomes reality, promise of the dreams coming true was taken for granted, and Isa considered that, as long as she goes with the flow and doesn’t take the initiative in deciding for herself, she obtains happiness by default. So, she’s basically another princess in waiting for the miracle (hm…) until she gets to break free on her own, which is consistent with modern trend of Disney subverting and defeating their own fairytale standard.

But other possible interpretation is: what if that promise, while leading to wrongful and harmful conviction, was giving her strength to follow her path and assigned duty, vested with faith she, by doing right thing, eventually will become a master of her life and achieve fulfillment. (And probably, it makes sense for her to think Mirabel, revealed being linked with imminent destruction of miracle, somehow also leads to her miraculous destiny being dissolved with no hope left.)

Worth noting, it brings up a parallel with classic story about destiny – and also another one of Disney fairytale standard – tale of Sleeping Beauty, blessed with magical gifts and cursed with ominous future, outcome of which tale being basically the same as Encanto movie: fighting future is dangerous, some losses are inevitable, but what’s matter is what we learn and take from it to improve even more distant future. Also, there’s even visual parallel – Aurora’s two-colored in funky manner dress as result of fairy godmothers fighting over its color, and Isabela’s multicolored holi’d dress, I wonder how intentional it was.

And one another minor and not instantly obvious connection, not clearly visible in the movie: both Isa and Bruno may be “brains” of the family! Some concept arts depict Isa being something of a bookworm, and while you have to be really observant (or peek at production art), there’s hints in Bruno’s environment he’s one himself – in addition to some books in his hideout, there’s drawings on the walls showing doodles of rats in casting of stage plays of Shakespeare’s tragedies and “Don Quixote” (both are not exactly light literature).

And while Isabela being an intellectual isn’t something directly stated in the movie, it’s still part of her development and isn’t contradicted by anything on screen. Though she probably may give preference to non-fiction on the topic of biology. Speaking of nerdy inclinations…   

One last (rather tangential) thing worth of discussion: abandoned Bubo storyline and its connection to ultimate version of story. For the aspects that justify it being scraped for good: first, as I stated above, her being actually loyal to family, instead of trying to elope, makes for all more powerful presentation of her character. Second, is unfortunate implication of her being driven to person simply because he understands her (which is valid on its own) rather than because she likes him for his own qualities and personality. But it may be just lack of context for single scene, otherwise dynamic of two people with connection to nature and such contrasting behavior and appear is pretty endearing. (Official source states the storyline is written off so Isa in the end does not “defined by a man”, but then, Mirabel is treated like hero and she’s “defined” by two men, given she’s in need the word of Bruno on what action to take, and if we take literally statement that she was “send by Pedro” to save the family…) So while I appreciate her ending as more independent and decisive person, I still like how concept of that relationship speaks of her personality, and it did find its way in final version, even if in funny way, by replacing man with cactus:) Even as brief moment leading to big reformative number, having her admiring the “imperfect”, peculiar creature gives evidence of her carrying deep fondness for unconventional forms of beauty, fascination for irregular, whimsical (as opposed to what she’s assigned for -  Mariano, while having his own depths and not entirely flawless as well, kind of dorky in his own way, is simply that – conventional and too ordinary for Isa to spark interest). And considering that trait of her was maintained through the variations of story, it seems more than plausible she may develop profound fondness and connection with her eccentric (and definitely “fish out of water”, as Bubo is described) uncle, which makes it a loss that the story didn’t even tipped toe into interaction between the characters. (And it’s hard to overlook, Bubo’s personal and even physical traits also seem to transfer into final version of Bruno, so the character’s concept wasn’t entirely lost either.)

On the final note, bunch of random musings about the character of Isa, that neither here nor there:

Speaking of unpredictable nature of gift and popular parallel between Isabela and Elsa: may it be that Isabela had to teach herself to regulate her power for pretty much the same reason, given connection between emotions and outcome, and inability for child to properly control it? Even in suppressed state, Isa’s powers have dangerous side to them: we see her being able to use vines to restrain people, making flowers grow from every surface, and later she creates carnivorous plants and just unleashes botanical chaos all around the town, not to mention that her negative emotions resurface itself as plants that unsafe for handling. Between Alma’s worried notion that Isabela got “out of control” and Bruno’s reluctance to face her (which he only partially admits to be for the fear to meet Alma), there could be something that young (and simply not being in existence yet) Mirabel might not knowing about full effect of Isa’s power when unbound and under emotional affect.

And one aspect that felt conflicting to me for some time: as for type of person with “green thumb” she’s supposed to embody (and more prominent “child of nature” image with which her character was conceived at first), Isabela acts rather violently, shown destroying her creations, plucking roses out of her flower bed, ruining topiary and such. But considering she’s not simply nature lover and expert (who she seems to genuinely be), but embodiment of nature itself, like Pepa is an embodiment of atmospheric forces, it’s organic for her to having embraced its destructive side as well, as part of death and resurrection circle. /So she’s a bit of like Stitch, with equally creative and destructive inclinations at one because of immense abilities she’s packed with:)/

I definitely have a little more to say, and contemplate, about the character… but some of it going too far into speculative and fanfic-y territory, so it’s a topic for another time. And sorry for all incidental Mirabel kicking:) – I have things to say about her too, but in its own turn.

[turtleneck-crowley]

Wake up babes of the GO fandom turtleneck-crowley just dropped their most recent Magnus Opus🥰🥰🥰

Hey guys I am a eccentric genius artist of the century whose works will probably only be appreciated post mortem (self-diagnosed)

Im also very certain you would all blorbos me if I were a fictional character but alas I am a boring meat package that got birthed out of an afab physiology and thus a sack of mouldy potatoes might have been a more interesting source writing this post. (Pure hubris, part irrational resentment that you are all quite familiar with *cheeky hot wink*)

I happen to own a get out of jail free card called catch 22 which is crafted out of part sarcasm, part idgasinglefgtfoofmyfacei180dmycringethroughyearsofpainandselfrelctionthatim toocoolforyounow public image

(if you actually read that you deserve, well nothing actually except perhaps my condolences and a consensual pat on the back that implies my unlicensed diagnosis that you are in fact, not dyslexic)

Anyhow cracking on back to the sentence *sighs and rolls eyes with you*

(-I mean in the streets, not with you guys, here im babygirl with half a brain cell/true form), part wholesome idiocy, years of experience in masking, part looking presentable, part knowing how society and science and art works and trying to be in tact with my own sense of humanity as much as possible -at least to the point where I’m not breaking any humanitarian law…

And yes bitch the whole eccentric genius /madly passionate or passionately mad paradox catch 22 license holder is you af - want a gold star? ⭐️ (crowley ref) (affectionate banter)

Fact is tumblrinas like to heighten and balance their EQ and IQ agreed?

I’m hyper aware that you guys are smart enough to assess me as going through a manic phase that is on the verge of psychotic-having observed hints of madness in my recent posts deducing via your own experiences that I have gone through a strict diet of coffee, whiskey, smut that Neil Gaiman himself would tear his locks and Sir Terry Pratchett would roll in his grave, finished off with a nice slice of Hozier songs as dessert

(that’s on top of of a yet to be discovered food chain which I call the Antichrist diet footnote: please credit me after I die before my Tesla gets Edisoned

‘Tis actually a great alternative way to invoke a psychedelic experience in substitute of the more expensive and questionably unlawful way that is smoking crack *disclaimer not recommended for the faint hearted or those self-diagnosed as mentally stable)

You are perfectly correct! Here’s another gold star!!! ⭐️

In fact I am currently being yelled by my parents to come downstairs because I need to be dropped off to the asylum while I’m trying to actually do something that gives me joy (Joan of Arc eat your heart out) and I assure you I have eyes and witness my very legs , naked and hairy (and did I mention Im only wearing a slutty black bra and skirt that I wore as a swimming suit AND a pajama and now my back to the looney bin outfit?) leaving a perfectly good soup with baguettes as evidenced here

However, I would like to UNO reverse such a caring notion by giving you a purple heart 💜

and divert you with a fun little clip that displays our para social relationship that I am hoping has deepened through my superficial charm to portray our rendezvous as warm and familiar and human as our beloved Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson:

No worries, Watson also came with the conslusion that the person he’s engaged with (more like to amiright- not us i mean, them, that’s where the analogy is cut off back into our real identities) is “not human”

Anyhow it might not be your cup of tea but at least hold the mug for a few minutes it’s worth it

Head fic: Gods of Sex and Idiocy

(If anything please see it as a game where we can title it better cause I’m shit at naming things - I call one of my plants Joe)

Hey Good Omens fandom

With the note of:

“who needs sane when you have creative”

-turtleneck-crowley

I have made a meta season 3 in my head and the stars have even sent me a playlist ??? (It’s the only one that seems to be downloaded on my wifi less phone)

Here’s the link:

Check out some of my latest posts

It’s really immersive and otherworldly

Down the rabbit hole and through the mirror you go 🐇🎩🪄

And what if season 1 is the ace route and season 2 is the sexual route so season 3 might be an aro route to defeating the enemy?

Ngk idk idc idgaf

I’m just like phone rn

(side note: why do I have the infinite capacity of taking pains (Sherlock reference) for being a mad artist instead of working on the next big physics formula answer? Good question: I’m actually just an emotional idiot aka sexy trash ✨ that’s addicted to blogging and I wouldn’t trade it for any other praise worthy status in the world 💜)

Honestly guys I sound like a sociopath but I’m really just very pained and fucked royally by circumstance that is too dramatic and gay for anyone except the loonies on tumblr to understand. I’m so disappointed by all this unjust pain and agony of the world- the children, the animals, the environment, the people that I have conditioned myself to display an eloquence so pungent it seems like I’m a cold manipulator. For if I ever showed myself for who I was to them- the judgers, the perverted, the scheming, I would surely be dead either by my own or someone else’s hands. Maybe I’m God and they just like tumblr and good omens and want to eat crepes in peace with the personality they split into 2 -preferably in Paris. Maybe they have been placed all the blame by the enemy and they are powerless to the human condition as you all are by an unknown enemy and is fated to be tortured in anxiety and pain invisible to all and the only infinite power they have is love that bleeds.

But I’ll give you and I both the peace of mind that I am an in fact just a mentally ill human whose life span is between the zones of expiration and fermentation, with a god complex, whom their closest people will never truly know how to care no matter how much they try- and in fact the more they try to help me the more they leave me in my original state- alone.

I leave you (no I’m not killing myself you idiot I’m going to the mental hospital to be molested by nightmares of demons - I literally experience it everyday- as they force me to take my sleeping pills which sinks me deeper into it-oh wait that’s kind of worse lmao) with this favorite piece of classical music of mine

Stay safe yall I love you

[seariii]

My take on Kotoko as a morally gray person, about a morally gray character who thinks in black and white

first of all, i absolutely love this woman, so all of this comes from a kotoko enjoyer, but when talking about canon i can not turn the blind eye to the wrongs she has done. i will talk about my perception of her murder, of her as a character and about her beating up the guilty prisoners (i will put this emoji 🐺 when i jump subjects just to keep it organized)

this next phrase is my personal take, i know some will disagree with me and thats okay, which also works as a tl;dr:

Kotoko didnt do anything wrong outside the prison, but she did wrong inside of it

i know beating up people isnt actually good, but she did research upon research to get to the bottom of the cases she was investigating and found the culprits this way. "but she could've brought them upon justice" and you arent wrong about that, but the victim she actually murdered, even when his identity was revealed to the public, the law didnt bring justice upon him.

screenshots & translations from @/maristelina (i didnt put everything in here, if you wanna check all the articles, please go check on their post!)

her victim was a child murderer, he had already killed 10 girls in 2 years, but even then, he was still free because of his father’s position of power. 

then we have her other victim, the man she beat up and sent to the hospital

there are a couple articles dedicated to this one. but a quick run down: the man, Mikio Oshii, was wanted for theft and assault, having tricked at least 2 or 3 elderly people, pretending to be a bank employee, and convincing them to hand over cash, he pushed one of his victims, fracturing her ankle. 

then we have the article about Kotoko’s assault. again a quick run down: someone heard screaming and found a man lying on the ground, who had lost consciousness after being beaten up, and was taken to the hospital. the police suspects a man (kotoko was wearing men’s sneakers and covering herself up). the victim was wanted for theft and assault charges and was Mikio Oshii.

further proving that she was aiming at people who prayed on the weak, she had good intentions (at least at first), and we also have the facts that she was trying to go through the lawful(?) path at first 

she was studying law, showing us that she genuinely believed her cause, bringing justice to the world and protecting the innocent, or “weaklings” as she calls them, more on that later.  that she was gonna try and go for the morally correct route, but what changed? what is that thing she “wants to do”? i hope we get to see her reasoning on the next trial. for now i agree with the theory that says that her or her family was victim of someone like the guy that was above law for having money and a father with a position of power. showing her the flaws of the law/justice system and thus taking matters into her own hands.

🐺 i personally believe that there are some people who dont deserve second chances, like pedos and rapists, and like the man kotoko murdered, between others. so this is why i forgive her from her crimes. she did proper research, she is passionate about it, she wants to protect the weak, or thats what she tries to convince herself of, because this brings me to my next point

she does have those violent tendencies, and she enjoys them

“this feels so good”

this is from the t1 trailer, people suspect this were phrases they said after their murders. so i think there is a possibility that while she was trying to convince herself that her actions were for justice, to try and protect the weak, and i dont doubt that that was where it came from at first, she ended up doing it out of personal enjoyment.

i once read that “if you do a good deed because you want to do it, it means that you arent a good person. to be a good person you need to do good deeds without wanting something in return” meaning that you should be uninterested on even the satisfaccion of said deed. this is a phrase that i absolutely hate and dont agree with, but i think it applies in here. kotoko was trying to do something “good” (morality is on the bearer’s eyes) by bringing to justice people who kept escaping it, by taking revenge for those weaklings she so desperately wants to protect, and while thats her main motivation, she also does it because she wants to.

i believe my girl has a thirst for power. she is self righteous, the way she refers to the people she wants to protect as “weaklings” its like shes putting them down in some way, the way on her VD she just wants to keep rambling about her theories, the way she inserted herself on Mikoto’s interrogation, the way she just assumes Es’ intentions and doesnt seem to accept when they call her out on it. she doesnt listen to others at all and once her mind is set on something, there is nothing that can move her from there. she isnt a good person…. but also, she isnt a bad person, and i feel that the fandom forgets those two statements can coexist. even if she sees herself as a saint, and firmly believes that she did nothing wrong, thats because

🐺 her world view is black and white. and this is why while i condone her actions on her murder, i do not condone her actions of beating up the guilty prisoners.

a lot of the prisoners have a black and white morality, heck, milgram itself as a system IS black and white. and from what i’ve read, a lot of the fandom also thinks in black and white. all of which i find extremely… interesting…. tbf its the nd majority vote game about nd murderers on the nd website, so makes sense (im half joking, sorry)

kotoko attacked the guilty prisoners because thats what she had been doing, and thats what she got voted innocent for on t1 (i wasnt around). but no one told her to do that, she acted on her own, she misinterpreted her judgment and forced her opinions and methods on others, claiming it were Es’, without their knowledge and without ours.

as a side note, when i first got into the fandom, i found surprising to see that kotoko was inno and fuuta was guilty on t1, since from my perspective their crimes are basically the same, they both exposed and harrowed “bad” people.

i make a lot of emphasis on black and white thinking, since its something im familiarized with, for example lets talk Amane since its her trial is still going

she is the type of girl who will correct other’s mistakes, who will call them out and try to fix them so that the others can be right, like her. her truth is absolute and even when it flails, she stands her ground and proceeds to believe in herself and her views of the world. in what i said, you could re read that and it would also apply to kotoko, and just like her, Amane also convinced herself of doing something she wanted to do by telling herself it was the right thing to do. kotoko’s “protecting the weaklings” directly translates to amane’s “punishing her mother for her sins (hurting the cat)”. so while in both cases there were hidden feelings, something tells me neither of the girls knew about their own ulterior motives, thats how well they convinced themselves.

people who think in black and white just see it as it is, right or wrong, left or right, green or blue, there is no other choice but those two. and from my personal experiences with myself and with others, its something you end up applying in almost every aspect of your life and its really difficult to change up this way of thinking. beginning to see the grays of the world and its other options its not an easy task without some proper help

overall, i dont believe she was right for hurting the guilty prisoners, and fuuta losing his eye because of her gives me a horrible gut feeling. overall, it also ties on her need for power, since she firmly believes shes Es’ “fang”, thus reducing herself a weapon for justice, not implementing her own judgment anymore, but someone else’s, ours, which my problem with her actions in this scenario. i firmly believe that if outside the prison she had came across mahiru or fuuta, she wouldn’t have attacked them, but  after her t1 inno, and getting her ideals supported, her beliefs became radical, and now shes going based on our ideals, our judgments, our right or wrong, our black and white morality, MILGRAM’s black and white morality.

🐺 im still a kotoko inno truther, and i love her, shes my favorite character. but i dont expect her to get innocent this trial, as she did wrong. i dont want to say it was our fault that she harmed the other prisoners, since we had no way of knowing this would happen. in retrospect we can say whatever we want, but none of us can read the future. 

i dont even have a real argument on why you should vote her innocent “shes pretty” is not good enough lmao… but who knows, maybe we will see something that makes her worthy of an inno vote on her second trial a few months from now (not counting on it, probably wont be enough)

in the end i wrote this because im really passionate about this character and her black and white views on the world (shes so intense). and because this beautiful person @archivalofsins told me to "keep talking about kotoko" and i have zero self control regarding this fictional woman.

🐺 i believe with the help of a third party, someone who could act as a moral compass to her and could teach her that the world has more colors, more choices, and if she actually learns about this, she would end up being an amazing thing. 

also, if the theory about her being an accomplice of the serial killer turns out to be true, i will puke and cry :) 

[blues824]

I would love to see Edward Midford(may have misspelled the last name) with a plus size reader who just got news her first book was accepted for publishing.(I almost fell to the floor when I got this exact news just after Thanksgiving!!) Please and thank you!!!

Congratulations!!! I’m sorry for this being so late! Female reader, as per the request.

TW: Fatshaming, sexism, both occur in only one paragraph and the person responsible is dealt with in the end

Edward Midford

He was aware that you were writing a book, and he was happy to see you so excited about it. He’s actually read through the multiple drafts, and he is not going to be soft on you. He takes over as editor, as he wants to make sure that you don’t get tricked out of your money. He tends to be a bit protective over the people he loves, you included.

Anyways, he loves reading through the unpublished version because he is one of the very few people who has gotten to read it thus far. He liked to treat it as a work of art hung within a gallery. Every single time you completed a new chapter, he would reward you with dinner at an inn nearby. 

Unfortunately, his duties as a knight had kept him away for some time. He promised to be there for you when you went to a publishing office to drop off your draft. However, he was dealing with some uproar in a different part of England during your set appointment with said office. You wrote to him, telling him about the experience.

The only thing that went awry was the person at the front desk. He seemed to be against women writers, and you’ve even heard him comment about how someone of your build was better at one of the restaurants around. You were very close to giving the man a piece of your mind, but you kept your composure and just reported him to the person who you had an appointment with.

Edward was home with you, his beloved wife, by the time you had gotten the letter from the publishing office. He had his hands on your shoulders, looking over you as you gently opened the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper and started reading it aloud. He could see your hand started to shake, so he reached out and steadied them.

After a few moments, you got to the point of the letter that was apart from the introductory and the whole “we have reviewed the draft that you had submitted”, and then… you saw it; the most important section of the message:

“We have accepted your idea for your book and would like to schedule an appointment with you to talk about the process and…”

You honestly didn’t even finish reading it because the tears in your eyes were blurring your vision. You turned towards your husband and wrapped your arms around him as you just cried tears of joy. He pulled you close, placing a kiss upon the top of your head as he had a huge smile on his face. 

“I’m so proud of you, my love. I know you worked so hard on this, and I will try to be there for you during every step of the process of the publication of your book. You deserve this and more, my princess.”

His words alone made you start crying anymore, and he pulled away to start wiping the tears from your eyes with the handkerchief that you had gotten for him a while ago. It had both your initials sewn into the silk, and he always kept it on him to remind him who he was fighting for when he was away.

That aside, the next day he came home with a bouquet of flowers as well as a box of chocolate and a small bottle of champagne to celebrate. Don’t worry about that guy who gave you trouble either. The person in charge of the publication office got a letter from the Queen herself that the man at the front desk is no longer allowed to work there. Edward did have to pull a few strings, but he would make sure that no one like that would ever get in your way again.

[mysaldate]

Why Vil’s overblot matters and why the fandom was wrong

With chapter 5 coming to twst en, there will inevitably be people who completely misrepresent what the overblot is about (again) and people who will call Vil shallow and undeserving of compassion (again). So let me try and explain why Vil’s overblot matters so much more than a lot of the fandom gives it credit for, what makes it different from the other overblots thus far, and why the start of chapter 6 was such a massively harmful gut-punch.

Obviously, there will be Twisted Wonderland spoilers up ahead. Not only for chapters 5 and 6 but for overblots in general as well as the Halloween event. I won’t talk much about Idia’s overblot, or anything beyond the start of chapter 6 though since that chapter is very uncomfortable for me to talk about. If you want sources for any of what I’ll be saying here, feel free to send me an ask or a dm. I will not be linking them here because Tumblr hides posts with links from the search.

Let’s start with the obvious fact we’ve known since chapter 1: Overblots happen as a result of overwhelmingly negative emotions and a build-up of magical residue known as blot. They are often rooted in deep childhood trauma and shattering of one’s deeply-rooted beliefs about the world or people around them. Riddle’s trauma itself doesn’t push him to overblot, it’s when he realizes Trey has been lying to him the whole time. Leona doesn’t overblot because his plan to get attention didn’t work but because Lilia openly mocks him for his efforts. Azul’s memories of being bullied don’t cause him to overblot until he believes the twins have abandoned him and won’t help him out anymore. Jamil doesn’t overblot because his plan didn’t work but because he believes his true intentions have been broadcasted to the world and while trying to protect himself, he doomed his family.

Vil doesn’t have this in the typical sense. The people in his surroundings are largely supportive of him, albeit very creepily so in some cases. Through-out the chapter, he even manages to get Epel’s support and the two of them come to see eye to eye in a very lovely set of scenes. All seems to be improving for Vil the further into the chapter we go. So why the sudden overblot? Why didn’t Vil lean on the support that he had and which had been his obvious edge over all the other overblotees? Vil’s world shattered as well, but it wasn’t because of the people around him. What truly shattered was Vil’s belief about himself.

Up until the last minute, even though Vil’s blot is gradually building up, he manages to keep things under the wraps extremely well. He’s calm, metodical, optimistic even. It’s only after the trial runs of their songs that he really starts to doubt himself and his group, and it’s for a good reason. Vil and the NRC group have slaved away at this performance for a fairly long time. They have their own original song written out, they came up with their own choreography, and they tried their very hardest to polish their dancing as much as they could. And it wasn’t enough. After the first trial, Vil saw some success. He was finally coming out on top for the first time in his life – only to have it immediately snatched away. By a nursery rhyme remix no less. And from the comments the other characters gave, that’s not even the worst part. The dwarves couldn’t dance. Instead, they kept bumping into each other on stage and weren’t in sync at all. By all objective means, the performance was largely inferior to that of the NRC group, and yet they easily overtook their standing in the eyes of the public.

But don’t get me wrong, it’s not this that pushed Vil over the egde. What ended up ruining everything wasn’t even the fact that Vil got caught trying to poison Neige – at least not in the way you would expect. Unlike the other overblotees, Vil never, not once, defended his actions. This, in itself, is very unique. It wasn’t Riddle abusing his dorm “for their own good,” or Leona trying to kill and injuring dozens of people because he “deserves to be the best,” or Azul stripping a bunch of people of their talents, abilities, or even selves because he “needed that power more,” or even Jamil hypnotizing Kalim for “the dorm’s good and for freedom.” The moment Vil was stopped from the momentum and realized what he was doing, he owned up to it immediately – and that, ironically, is what doomed him.

For those of you who didn’t read chapter 5 yet or don’t remember the whole backstory anymore, let me walk you through it before I go on. Vil’s father is a famous actor. We know nothing about his mother but given his father would usually take him with to movie sets and all over the world when he traveled, we can assume she was probably not around much. Vil’s father, Eric Venue, was, for all we know, a wonderful dad. He was always supportive of his son and made sure the time spent together was cheerful and happy. It was him who made Vil want to become an actor as well. And Vil started, like many children, with school plays... where he would quickly fall into a routine that would follow him into the professional industry as well.

Vil would always get cast as the villain. Be it the protagonist’s rival or a cruel bully, his characters would always be evil in one way or another, and never get redemption or their own happy ending. Dreary already but once Vil joined the industry, this became so much worse. During a shooting when he was still in elementary school, he overheard two of the movie staff talking about him. They did praise his appearance (and to those who say being called a “beautiful child” is predatory or SA, please shut up) but they immediately followed it up by calling him “too perfect” and stating that he would never play a protagonist because nobody could relate to him. He would never get his happy ending because he was not who the audience wanted to see succeed. And in a way, they were right. Even off-screen, Vil would get bullied for what happened in the movies and tv series he played in, because it was easier for people to believe he was just as much of a scumbag in real life as he was on tv. Vil called this out, clearly showing he had more brains in elementary school than the average Twitter user has in their early 20′s, but that doesn’t mean it never affected him.

In fact, the exact opposite is true. It affected Vil so much that as soon as he had the luxury of choosing his roles, he would vehemently refuse any villainous role he was offered, even when they were extremely lucrative offers. He even went off at his agent when she signed him up for one such role without consulting him first. Vil also changed his last name and while the officially stated reason was so that nobody could account his success to his father, it more than likely was also to put his past behind him. Because he was better than that, because he was not a monster, because he was not a villain.

Except once. During VDC (and I refuse to call it SDC because twst en versions of names are poor at best), Vil did become the villain for a moment. He let his own goals and desperate wishes get the better of him and was ready to seriously harm an innocent person to get his way. And yes, Neige is an innocent party in all of this because although his performance was poor and kind of pathetic when compared to Vil’s, it was not his fault that he was put on a pedestal. And Vil knows that too. So when he was snapped out of the moment and he realized what he was about to do, he crumbled.

Now let’s talk a bit about coping mechanisms and trauma responses. There’s no doubt that Vil is traumatized. Not in the same way as many of the other overblotees, and his trauma manifests differently as well, but overall, Vil didn’t overblot because of the trauma but because of his response to it. Vil lashed out against the trigger of his trauma, and acted in an objectively incorrect way. That isn’t unusual with many trauma victims. More often than not, victims of physical abuse begin to strike back at their abusers, victims of mental abuse have a hightened risk of becoming abusive themselves (not saying all of them do, put the pitchforks away, they just have a hightened risk of it), and so on and so forth. Vil’s response, though inappropriate, is still understandable. His response is human. All the more hurtful it is that he felt as though this response meant he was just as bad as all his evil roles painted him out to be. THAT was the real breaking point of Vil’s overblot. What shattered wasn’t his view of others, it was his view of himself.

Even with his overblot starting to set in, Vil’s first instinct was to plead with the people around to not look at him, to not watch as he becomes something ugly, something he never ever wanted to become. His pleads went ignored, and even purposely disregarded in one case and it only pushed him further in. This is just speculation, but I firmly believe Vil would’ve been able to pull himself together, did his wishes go followed and had people given him the time to calm down. Instead of, you know, going on and on about how what he did was so terrible and how you were there to see it and would purposely look as he turned into that ugly thing he absolutely hated. But that’s going off the topic a bit.

Personally, I have a lot of gripe with how the chapter ended. But it got even worse when chapter 6 tried to address this. At the start of chapter 6, the rest of the NRC group tries to confront Rook about his final vote. And full disclaimer, he is free to vote for whoever he wants, that is not the issue here at all. What IS the issue is Rook defending his vote by saying it was all Vil’s fault for not being beautiful enough, in regards to his overblot. It is Vil’s fault that he lashed out after years of continous trauma, and Rook is actually the good guy here for putting him in his place, never to be seen as a hero, never to be seen as someone deserving of praise, because of one trauma response that was less than desirable. There was no need to say that and yet, he did. Just like on numerous other occasions where he purposely puts Vil down for no reason. But that is material enough for another post like this. The take-away from chapter 5 and the start of chapter 6 somehow stopped being “when you break down, your friends will help you overcome it” but it instead became “if your trauma response is not morally unambigously correct, you do not deserve fair judgment” and that bothers me.

Chapter 6 then proceeds to completely skip any character development Vil went through and instead just hits us with “Yeah he’s fine and made peace with his share now” with no build-up so that’s not even worth talking about. But Vil’s overblot is a total stand-out among all the others and I wish more people actually paid attention to it rather than disregarding it as “first-world problems of a spoiled movie star” when there’s so much more to it than that.

I could go on for a while, talking about how dehumanizing Vil’s experience in the movie industry has been (not the world of child actors irl but just his personal experience) or how the society put Neige on a pedestal because he was born poor and how he’s always had support of his community unlike Vil, but we would be here for far too long if I did. So I leave you with this, I hope you enjoyed the read, and I’ll be back some other time with another long ranty brainrot analysis.

[kimbureh]

Nimona

fucking hate to make free advertisment for a Netflix show (especially now that they've blocked password sharing) but here are my thoughts on Nimona. Better late than never, I haven't checked the tag yet, but I doubt my observations are anything original. Have them anyway.

.

Nimona is an apt allegory on how oppression isn't abolished by expanding the circle of oppressors, but rather by overthrowing the system. Ballister set out to be the first knight not born from a royal bloodline, but he wasn't accepted and his ambitions to rise in rank were squashed by a political plot against him. During the course of the story he learns that washing clean his name doesn't fix the problem of systemic oppression. Ballister might've been lucky enough to rise into the ranks of the oppressors and thus stop his own oppression, but the system drawing a sharp line through society and dividing it would still persist. In the final battle, that line gets eradicated by Nimona smashing the literal wall around the city.

Also it is of course about queerness, and which tightly defined 'ways of queerness' have become socially acceptable and which haven't. Ballister and Ambrosius are both gay, but due to Bal's social background he is not accepted. It's the same with rich, cultivated gay couples becoming somewhat of fashion icons in the public eye to the degree that it's a stereotype that gay men know their way around fashion. This disregards the many other facets of queer identity, to which Nimona herself alludes to with her shapeshifting, saying about it that she only feels good if she keeps shifting. The same is true for the queer community: we are only truly respected if all of us are, not just those clean-washed and bleached versions of us that mainstream deems acceptable for their own consumption.

On another note, do Bal and Ambrosius also get back together in the comic? Or is it at least treated with a little more complexity? I remember back then seeing so many posts swooning about those two, but the lack of narrative reflection on the fundamental distrust of Ambrosius towards Bal is just unsettling for them to just get back to the status quo. Ambro, my boy, at least do some proper groveling. Yer man Bal got dragged into this against his will and then helped reform society. tbh Bal deserves better and Ambrosius is such a boring character, I don't even want to see him in a toxic relationship, let alone one that poses as 'healthy'. Get yourself a better man, Bal.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Is there direct evidence that Courtois destroyed and/or falsified most of Robespierre's documents on purpose? Like, was he ordered to do it? Did he do that on his own?

Out of the approximately 200 Piéces justificatives included in Rapport fait au nom de la Commission chargée de l’examen des papiers trouvées chez Robespierre et ses complices (1795) roughly 75 were written either to or by Robespierre. I’ve been able to confirm the existence of the text in fac-simile for at least 62 of these, mostly by checking other sources like Correspondance de Maximilien et Augustin Robespierre (1926) and seeing if they, when citing a letter originally published by Courtois, could also link to any archived material alongside it. Said correspondence had Courtois’ report as the only source for only two of its letters (1, 2), none of which came off as particulary fabricated at least in my eyes. For the remaining approximately 125 documents not dealing with Robespierre I’ve so far been able to validate 14. This does however not mean I suspect the remaining ones to have been fabricated, only that I lack the sources to check up on them as well. While this is far from a complete study (I’m a bit surprised there doesn’t seem to exist any professional work critically looking over the full report, considering there are suspicions there might have been some foul play) it so far speaks against the theory of Courtois & co having forged and/or falsified a considerable amount of the papers. So far, I’ve also not found any historian voicing their concern that a certain document from the report may be a fabrication.

However, this is not to say Courtois & co didn’t make any alterations to the otherwise authentic material when publishing it in order to tweak the story in the way they wanted it portrayed. One such alteration regards the accusing letter Charlotte Robespierre wrote to her younger brother on July 6 1794, and where Courtois when transcribing the text chose to leave out the header ”Robespierre the younger” along with all references to their shared house on rue Saint-Florentin, to make it look like the letter was really adressed to Maximilien (in her memoirs, Charlotte would insist Courtois had also inserted embellished sentences into the letter, something which on the other hand wasn’t true). Another is regarding a letter from Antoine Buissart to Robespierre dated February 2 1794, which, when comparing Courtois’ version with the fac-simile, shows that the former cut out the first half of the letter when publishing it, for it to look like it only contained complaints. In yet another letter from July 19 1792 one Janegon writes to Robespierre that he is deserving of a civic crown. When publishing this letter, Courtois, according to J.M Thompson, left out both the date and the word ”civic” to make it sound like Robespierre was being offered a royal crown during his time in power. Thompson similarily writes that, when handling spy reports from Guérin, head of a CPS espionnage department, Courtois either replaced the word ”citizens” with ”citizen” or deleted it entirely to make it seem like these reports were adressed not to the entire committee but Robespierre only. These are all examples of alterations I’ve been able to find thus far and I wouldn’t be surprised if there exists even more.

As for if Courtois actually destroyed any of Robespierre’s papers, it should be admitted that, in 1828, there was still enough untouched ones for it to be published a three volume work titled Papiers inédits trouvés chez Robespierre, Saint-Just, Payan, etc, supprimés ou omis par Courtois (ironically, Correspondance de Maximilien and Augustin Robespierre had a harder time providing archived sources for letters originally included in this work than it had with letters originally published in Courtois’ report). To give the word to J.M Thompson again:

It was not until the publication of Papiers inédits trouvés chez Robespierre, Saint-Just, etc., supprimés ou omis par Courtois (Paris, 1828) that it was generally realized how dishonestly Courtois had done his work. A comparison of the two versions shows that, out of the first bundle (liasse) of 10 papers Courtois printed eight, out of the second (56) 17, out of the third (49) 42 — most of these were anonymous letters of flattery or abuse, equally useful for his argument; out of the fourth (62) 11 — here he omits the military mission of Saint-Just and Lebas; out of the fifth (35) 25 — including a number of letters from spies; out of the sixth (34) 24 — spies again; out of the seventh (46) 14; out of the eighth (30) 12; and all of the ninth, viz. 15. Thus, out of a total of 377 documents, Courtois only printed 153; and these were chosen so as to give colour to the rhetorical indictment of Robespierre with which his Rapport began. Not only so: in more than one instance he altered the text of his documents to Robespierre’s disadvantage.

This at least shows us that Courtois, after finishing his report, didn’t just go ahead and throw away all the papers he’d chosen not to include in it. This is further proven by the article Les livres de Robespierre au 10 thermidor (1992) by Fabienne Ratineau, where we learn that on August 1 1795, around 220 books confiscated from Robespierre’s room after thermidor were sent to the national Dépôt littéraire to be documented (the list is published by Ratineau and has been translated into English here). Finally, La saisie des papiers du conventionnel Courtois 1816 (1891) (which I unfortunately haven’t been able to find online but which might shed more light on the activities of the subject of study) shows that Courtois at the time of his death in 1816 still possessed works originally belonging to Robespierre, among which were a bible (that has since gone missing) and 22 letters.

None of this does however disprove the idea that Courtois destroyed documents when first picking through them. If so, arguably only he and the rest of his commission knew about it, and the only way for us to do so would be if any of them came clear later in life. Such confessions I have however not been able to find.

Finally, if Courtois & co were explicately ordered to destroy or falsify papers by the Convention is yet another question I’m afraid I have to give an anticlimactic answer to, since I have yet to find any decree outlining the details of the mission given to their commission, nor the minute for the Convention session when said commission was founded… (I tried looking at Histoire parlamentaire de la révolution française… but so far no luck…)