#find strength in your weakness

[naughtybg3confessions]

I'm 31 and I've never been in a relationship, nor I ever felt attachment, belonging, or desire for affection. I never felt like I needed anyone but myself. I thought highly of me because of that, and I made it my strength as I pursued greatness and enjoyed my life. Playing bg3 made me realize how wrong I was, as everyday I long for the touch of someone that doesn't even exist and for the first time in my life I cry, because I'll never be able to hold him close, hear his voice calling my name or feel his hands touching my own. I cry because there's nothing I can do to change that. And while all of this eats at my soul, I feel pathetic because in the end, I'm not so strong. I'm nothing like the person I've always thought I was.

[meredithbeckham]

win the fight, save your life.

[roscoe-me-and-this-fuckin-kid]

let the flames begin by paramore is a queer song don't forget that

[respectthepetty]

This week's episode of GAP gave me the best read that I have ever witnessed in a QL drama, and for that, this monumental occasion needs to be publicly recognized.

Nueng, please step up to the podium to receive your Reading Rainbow award.

On this date, I witnessed Nueng not only read her grandmother to filth, but she also enlightened her sister, Sam, with a few words from the good book.

This Blue Beauty began by telling Mon her lover was a WEAK ASS.

Then, she dragged Mon into her grandmother's house, and proceeded to open the library on Sam and her grandmother so they could get educated on the basic facts, like Sam is being a weak ass.

And that their grandmother is triflin'

And dropped the biggest fact of all

Queen, you got out. You didn't have to come back. You were living your life, when Sam SENT FOR YOU. You showed up with the receipts intact, the W-2s compiled, and the Turbo Tax form ready to submit. No audits will be happening here. YOU DID THAT!

Tee, Jim, Kade, Cher, and Risa have all tried to tell Sam to get her shit together, but you came in and said "Mon, YOU deserve better!" and that's why you get this award.

I love you *slides her my resume like Cherry Magic's Kurosawa with all the reasons she should be with me - spoiler alert, there's nothing weak about me*

[pointyfruit]

Just imagined a complex animated short about Bloodmoon huntin for ye good ol blood except it was in the perspective of one of the children that get hunted.

I almost made myself cry.

[aromanticasterisms]

As anyone who has ever listened to me talk about Lightning Gods for 2 seconds knows, I personally am not too fond of the Thunder Legion backstory we got from it. Partially because I am a childhood friends Thunder Legion truther, but mostly because I didn’t agree with the characterization choice that had them decide to follow Laxus after…that.

But I understand why it is the way it is, and more than that, I can see now that it does a fairly decent job at using what little space and time there was available to tie into the main focus of the story of Lightning Gods. Namely, Laxus’s and the Thunder Legion’s views on strength, the trust that all of them have in each other, and how that manifests in different ways.

Let’s begin with an overview on the Thunder Legion’s obsession with strength and duty, where it came from, and how it has changed forms over time.

The backstory for the Thunder Legion proposed in Lightning Gods is this:

Freed, Bickslow, and Evergreen team up to take on a job, only to find when they get there that Laxus has already finished it on a whim. They exchange some harsh words, and not long after they descend into a fight. Laxus beats them easily, and the three of them are awed and frightened by his strength and power.

Laxus, meanwhile, surprises them by complimenting them […sort of] on being the strongest guild members he’s seen in a long time, in giving him a good fight.

This event is what inspires the three of them decide to band together to form the Thunder Legion—a team dedicated to watching Laxus’s back. It is also the event that sets up their mentality further down the line: physical and magic strength are the most desirable traits one can have, and by continuing to be strong and interesting, they are allowed to stand by Laxus’s side.

Cut to years later, when the most obvious culmination of the Thunder Legion’s obsession with strength takes place: the Battle of Fairy Tail.

The entire point of the game is to weed out the weak from the strong, to create a stronger guild for Laxus to inherit. On his orders, the Thunder Legion are utterly merciless to anyone they deem weaker than themselves.

At first, this seems like purely blind loyalty, but as time goes on, we get a glimpse that it might be more than that. Specifically, right after Evergreen’s loss, we see that the standing the Thunder Legion has with Laxus isn’t a whole lot more solid than the rest of the guild, right now.

The moment Evergreen is beaten by Erza, Laxus re-categorizes her in his mind from strong to weak, and is ready to discard her, saying that he doesn’t need her in his Fairy Tail.

Freed expresses that he or Bickslow should have gone instead—not that Evergreen is weak, not that they don’t need her, but that Erza is simply too strong, and they should have sent someone better suited to counter her.

He then tells Laxus that the game is over, the battle lost, and Laxus tells him that unless he is willing to do exactly as he says with no hesitation, Laxus doesn’t need him in his guild either.

After this exchange, we now know that the Thunder Legion are only standing beside Laxus because they are strong. If they are weak, if they falter in their duties, they will be abandoned, discarded, and replaced.

The three of them are beaten, the game is lost, and Laxus is exiled. They slowly begin to settle back into the guild, to reconnect and mend bridges. But that obsession with strength and duty that the Thunder Legion has cultivated has not completely gone away—merely changed forms.

After all, few of their guild mates can stop themselves from commenting on how ridiculously strongthe Thunder Legion are. Many of them saw their magical strength firsthand, so the three of them are desperate to prove that their abilities can be put to good use.

When it comes to fighting strength, their mindset is one of protecting their guild mates no matter the personal cost. For Freed and Bickslow, we tend to see this manifest outwardly, as continually attempting to sacrifice themselves for their loved ones. For Evergreen, we see this manifest more as an internal struggle, as blaming herself for not being strong enough, and thinking that her lack of ability is what causes others to be hurt.

When Freed is selected to take place in the S-Class trials, with Bickslow as his partner, the two of them are paired up against Lucy and Cana. They proceed to throw the fight in the girls’ favor, allowing them to move forward. Freed says he owes it to the two of them specifically, after what happened in the Battle of Fairy Tail.

Later, when Evergreen and Elfman are targeted by Rustyrose and defeated by him, Evergreen blames herself for not being strong enough, and says that if it weren’t for her, if Elfman had picked a different partner, he may have been able to succeed.

In the Key of the Starry Sky arc, Bickslow throws himself in the way of an attack to save Wendy, and even insists that she should abandon him and save herself—abandoning a comrade who is nothing more than dead weight is still a viable strategy in his eyes.

“Sometimes you gotta have the courage to leave your friends behind too!”

However, unlike Laxus [who I’ll talk about later], the Thunder Legion largely understands that there are different types of strength. Laxus judged himself and others using solely fighting strength as a metric, but the guild as a whole requires a more diverse skill set to deal with a range of day-to-day issues, which the Thunder Legion commit to their comrades with just as much enthusiasm.

Freed’s mission with Wendy is a good example of this. The Master—and Cana, of all people, who Freed feels he has a personal debt to—entrusts not only Wendy’s safety to him, but also her growth and development as a mage. He follows the rules set by them to the utmost of his abilities, even having a minor crisis when his two duties conflict, and he doesn’t know which course of action is the right one to take.

When there is a clear course of action, though, he’s quick to take it, utilizing his runes and his blade for all manner of things that have nothing to do with fighting.

At one point during the journey, Happy comments:

“That’s the Thunder Legion for you! Always there in a time of need!”

It’s clear that by this point, they have already established a reputation for being incredibly reliable and dependable, despite the fact that this is quite soon after the Battle of Fairy Tail, and the three of them rarely spent time in the guild hall beforehand.

These feelings of needing to be strong and useful so people keep them around linger on even past Fairy Tail’s disbanding, into Lightning Gods. The three of them are incredibly eager to be helpful to Laxus.

Evergreen reinforces this when they step up to destroy the Vesper Blockade Mirror for the first time:

“Let’s show them why you keep us around.”

She says this in tandem with Bickslow, who says Laxus won’t enjoy destroying an object. The three of them step forward to do work that, they assume, Laxus would find tedious or boring.

Not long after they figure out how to destroy the mirror, the priestess Weyse shows her true colors as a Zeref fanatic, and takes on the powers of the demon God of Nightfall.

The God of Nightfall is, quote:

“…a type of magic that shows people illusions of the doubts and fears…and traumas…they carry deep inside.”

To torment the Thunder Legion in the illusion, Weyse begins with this:

“Oh, you guys! As if he could rely on you! You call yourselves his bodyguards, but at the slightest threat you just bleat out for him. No wonder he gets hurt worst of all.”

This doesn’t seem to affect them at all, as all three’s responses are rather unimpressed.

“Yeesh. What terrible lines.” “I guess she’s trying to rattle us.”

This showcases their understanding of who Laxus is as a person. They’ve followed him for years now, so they’re well aware of what he’s capable of, and more importantly, what he’s like, and what he tends to do.

The Thunder Legion is incredibly confident in Laxus. They trust him more than perhaps anyone else, and want more than anything else to protect him and keep him safe.

However, they are also well aware that they cannot control his actions. Especially after the stunt he pulled just before Tartaros. He gets hurt worst of all because he tends to insist on doing things on his own, whether it’s to prove himself, to enjoy a fight more, or because he wants to keep everyone safe. When the people he cares about are in danger, he jumps in to help, and sometimes pushes himself to the point of self-destruction. This is a trait that many mages in Fairy Tail share, and the Thunder Legion understands this.

But they trust him, and they trust him to know his limits.

When he stops them from interfering in his fight against Maiden Quartet, they listen. Their trust manifests as standing back while Laxus fights and waiting for a cue, or helping to mitigate the damage his fight causes on their surroundings. Laxus knows that all he needs to do is ask for help, or offer an invitation, and the Thunder Legion will be right there beside him.

Freed knows this, and he rebuts Weyse like so:

“We trust each other. If Laxus is fighting on the front lines, we’ve only got to run in and support him!”

Of course, Weyse twists his words around and hits them where it hurts:

“So what you’re saying is, he steps up to fight because you’re too weak to do it yourselves.” “You’re his bodyguards, aren’t you? Right? But something terrible is bound to happen to your precious Laxus, the way you guard him.”

Laxus fights because they can’t. Because they’re incapable of it. The Thunder Legion is a burden to him, an inconvenience, and holding him back from his true potential. He doesn’t need them, and he knows it; soon enough, they will stop being useful, and Laxus will leave them behind.

That’s what hurts them, that’s what spurs them to fight and protect the illusion of Laxus with everything they have—not just the concept of being weak, but the idea of being unneeded and abandoned by the person they care for the most.

“Laxus always steps up to fight…because we’re so weak!” “Even though we go around callin’ ourselves his bodyguards!!” “We’re just holding Laxus back!”

Unbeknownst to the Thunder Legion, though, Laxus has been going through his own development during Lightning Gods—namely, discovering just what kind of strength he can bring to his family in order to make them feel safe and protected.

When Laxus and the Thunder Legion join Blue Pegasus, they are confronted with a very different guild experience, in terms of jobs and the people around them. Being a Blue Pegasus member requires a different set of skills and strengths than Fairy Tail members are used to, and Laxus specifically has a difficult time adjusting. But as he’s floundering, he can see the Thunder Legion fitting in with the guild and taking to their tasks with ease.

“I don’t know…but you three are doing great.” “But I just recall how…Fairy Tail was full of people who’d understand me, even just through our fists and fights.”

This is played somewhat for comedy, as the Thunder Legion find Laxus’s awkwardness endearing. But Laxus is genuinely having a hard time wrapping his head around the way the guild operates and adjusting to it. More than that, he’s utterly baffled by the idea that someone like Ichiya could be so respected and adored when he is, compared to Laxus and the Thunder Legion, not all that strong or powerful.

He mentions that they shouldn’t go to assist him—since the others respect him so much, he assumes Ichiya must be strong enough to save himself:

“But he’s actually super powerful despite how he acts, right? So just wait for him to come back on his own.”

What others might see as abandonment is Laxus’s idea of trust—putting faith in another person’s ability to handle themselves, and not insulting their strength by rushing in to rescue them.

But the members of Blue Pegasus quickly correct him, bringing up the many weaknesses that Ichiya has that make him vulnerable. Laxus wonders if there’s anything good about him at all, and how someone with so many weaknesses—that are apparently common knowledge—could be so idolized by everyone around them.

Despite his overall reluctance to engage with the situation, Laxus goes to rescue Ichiya, on the basis that they’re from the same guild, and anyone who messes with guild members is an enemy—not because he looks up to Ichiya, something he quite vehemently denies.

In the process of rescuing him, though, Ichiya himself takes a blow from Laxus meant for his captor, and tells Laxus not to fight, “out of respect for his gorgeous face”. Laxus takes this as an insult.

“Is this a joke?! Huh?! We came here to rescue you, because you’d been kidnapped. And now this? Was this some game to you? And you want me to respect your face? You think you can mess with me and I’m just gonna take it?”

In his mind, if Ichiya is so respected, he must have been strong enough to escape this entire time, and waited until the most inopportune moment to do so. He interfered with the rescue attempt, made light of Laxus’s attempt to help, and wasted his time.

However, Ichiya replies:

“This was no game. And no one is messing with you. Thank you for coming to my rescue.” “I honestly didn’t think you four would be the first ones here. Fighting on a joyous day like this…would hardly be the classy thing to do! Let’s go home and open up some champagne.”

Laxus seems surprised by this, and remains in thoughtful silence for a long while, even all the way back to the guild. Ichiya approaches him, and Laxus finally admits:

“So, look. I don’t get you at all. You don’t stand out as some powerful dude…but look how much they all worship you.”

Ichiya responds that it’s because he’s good-looking, much to the irritation of Laxus. However, the Trimen speak up once Ichiya leaves, saying that’s his true strength. The Thunder Legion take the word strength to mean the same kind of power they see in Laxus; an insurmountable might that puts one above other people. Hibiki corrects them:

“He may seem unreliable to you. But…when the moment calls for it, he’ll even use his body to defuse a crisis, even without magic…and isn’t that another kind of strength? That’s our Ichiya. We can feel safe with him.”

It’s not about physical or magical strength. It’s his strength of character that the members of Blue Pegasus are drawn to; they trust that he is the type of person to do everything in his power to keep conflict from breaking out, even if it means bringing harm to something he prides himself on quite highly.

This sticks with Laxus.

When he and the Thunder Legion head out to the village of Rugosa for the request put forth by the priestess Weyse, Laxus wonders to himself just what sort of strength he brings to his family.

After Weyse begs them to help, and speaks rather tearfully about not wanting to lose her home, Laxus is immediately swayed to get serious about her cause. He makes an effort to destroy the Vesper Blockade Mirror, and goes to great lengths to defeat Nasser, whom Laxus believes is trying to destroy his own home—something that Laxus takes very personally, because he [mistakenly] sees his past self in Nasser.

“So your mission is more important than your home? That thought process…makes my blood boil!!”

Nasser asks him why he’s risking his life for this. Says it seems foolish, since this is just another quest for him. Laxus flashes back to the Battle of Fairy Tail.

“I’ve tried to destroy my own family…my guild…before. I thought I was doing it for the guild’s own good. But now I see that was a stupid, immature idea. And I’m pretty sure you’re gonna regret this, too!”

After Nasser’s defeat, the Thunder Legion destroy the Vesper Blockade Mirror, just as Laxus trusted them to do. And the demon God of Nightfall’s true identity is revealed. Nasser shares his side of the story and laments his inexperience, stating that despite being seen by the villagers as an outsider, Rugosa village is his only true home.

Laxus is immediately swayed to his cause, and vows to destroy the God of Nightfall. Nasser reprimands him, saying that it’s too dangerous, but Laxus insists—

“But if we do nothing, your home is gonna get destroyed.” “Look, no apology is ever gonna be enough for what happened. So let me protect your village. I have to…!!”

Nasser relents, and asks for his assistance in defending his home. But not before telling him:

“You lose sight of all around you the moment something important to you is involved, like one’s home or guild.” “Viewed in another light, I suppose some might call you stubbornly honest.”

The two of them rush back to the village to confront the God of Nightfall. Laxus goes to destroy it, but is blocked by the Thunder Legion’s attacks. Weyse reveals that the three of them see Laxus as the God of Nightfall and vice versa—this is quickly reinforced by their words, shouting that they’ll protect Laxus no matter what as they’re attacking him.

Then, of course—Laxus hears what they think. That they’re too weak to stand beside him, they’re holding him back, they can’t even do an adequate job of protecting him.

After snapping them out of the spell with his magic, Laxus tells them exactly how he feels, how he said he felt even in the midst of his fight with Nasser: he trusts them.

“Don’t be stupid, Thunder Legion!” “It’s only because I can trust you to have my back…that I can run forward to fight!”

He doesn’t say, you’re strong enough to stand beside me.

Instead, he tells them, I am only this strong because you’re here. Because you have my back. I could not have done any of this without you. I have faith in your abilities. I can trust you.

To have his back, to look out for him, and more than that, to understand him, when it seems like no one else can.

The three of them gather themselves, and step up to watch Laxus’s back, to assist him in fighting the God of Nightfall.

“It’s alright. The three of us…we will not falter!!” “Strength…weakness…the form it takes doesn’t matter. The desire to protect the people we care about is still the same.”

The God of Nightfall is defeated. Nasser returns to the village, having lost his magical power. The Thunder Legion lament this loss, saying that losing such strength seems like a waste, but Laxus seems to understand—it was worth it, if it means Nasser gets to return to his home.

The four of them leave Rugosa village, talking about Weyse’s betrayal and how impressive Laxus was during their fight. And, finally, they tell him what it is that he wants to hear:

“But you confirmed something for us.” “Thanks to you…we can rely on you and feel safe.”

His dedication to doing what’s right, to protecting other people’s homes and family, led him back to the village when he could have easily left everyone to wait for the Council instead. His strength and quick thinking saved the Thunder Legion from the God of Nightfall’s spell. His stubborn honesty snapped them out of their fear of failing him, of being too weak, of being left behind.

At last, Laxus says that he thinks he’s figured out a little bit about the strength that makes Ichiya so adored.

[riverwithoutbanks]

Cas and hunger and love and how he cannot differentiate except because when he was under Famine influence, the body prevailed (hunger as in food), but the confused mind/grace wanted reciprocation/concordance (hunger as in desire— him asking Dean whether he’s affected).

It’s not even dominance (‘you should show me some respect’ vs Godstiel who doesn’t seem to care for Dean on his knees). He’s infinite so it only stands to reason that he’d try to consume, but he’s not a leviathan. He feels hunger, but he won’t even try to bite.

He always seem so sorrowful until he makes it clear that he is a warrior, that he can destroy and kill — but then he’s playing along with the Winchesters.

He has seen most of history, the fish leaving the ocean, yet he’s been lobotomised again and again, which is almost comical. There is so much to him, and yet we see basically none of it. And it suffices. Because he’s trapped in a loop of rebellion and wisdom and forgetting. Until he isn’t. He’s infinity reduced to a singular point and that’s breaking my mind.

[wet-toast-slime]

in regards to my unpopular opinion about pokemon does not own the monster collecting genre, and how not every monster collecting game is a pokemon clone--

if you want to talk about pokemon clones just look at palworld's plagiarism problem

[alexanderwales]

I'm a big fan of wizards-as-programmers, but I think it's so much better when you lean into programming tropes.

A spell the wizard uses to light the group's campfire has an error somewhere in its depths, and sometimes it doesn't work at all. The wizard spends a lot of his time trying to track down the exact conditions that cause the failure.

The wizard is attempting to create a new spell that marries two older spells together, but while they were both written within the context of Zephyrus the Starweaver's foundational work, they each used a slightly different version, and untangling the collisions make a short project take months of work.

The wizard has grown too comfortable reusing old spells, and in particular, his teleportation spell keeps finding its components rearranged and remixed, its parts copied into a dozen different places in the spellbook. This is overall not actually a problem per se, but the party's rogue grows a bit concerned when the wizard's "drying spell" seems to just be a special case of teleportation where you teleport five feet to the left and leave the wetness behind.

A wizard is constantly fiddling with his spells, making minor tweaks and changes, getting them easier to cast, with better effects, adding bells and whistles. The "shelter for the night" spell includes a tea kettle that brings itself to a boil at dawn, which the wizard is inordinately pleased with. He reports on efficiency improvements to the indifference of anyone listening.

A different wizard immediately forgets all details of his spells after he's written them. He could not begin to tell you how any of it works, at least not without sitting down for a few hours or days to figure out how he set things up. The point is that it works, and once it does, the wizard can safely stop thinking about it.

Wizards enjoy each other's company, but you must be circumspect about spellwork. Having another wizard look through your spellbook makes you aware of every minor flaw, and you might not be able to answer questions about why a spell was written in a certain way, if you remember at all.

Wizards all have their own preferences as far as which scripts they write in, the formatting of their spellbook, its dimensions and material quality, and of course which famous wizards they've taken the most foundational knowledge from. The enlightened view is that all approaches have their strengths and weaknesses, but this has never stopped anyone from getting into a protracted argument.

Sometimes a wizard will sit down with an ancient tome attempting to find answers to a complicated problem, and finally find someone from across time who was trying to do the same thing, only for the final note to be "nevermind, fixed it".

[9hikers]

a lot of my gripes with anime recs can be expanded to media recs in general, but i feel like the kind of person who will recommend Goblin Slayer and Sailor Moon in the same breath are a lot more common than the kind of person who would do the same with Hannibal and Power Puff Girls.

[qqueenofhades]

https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/743255237060689920/the-thing-that-confuses-me-about-the-dont-vote

The “don’t vote” left’s point is basically that, if Biden gets a second term, it’ll basically signal that “They’ll vote for us as long as we’re not Republicans, why don’t we do some REAL fucked up shit, if we can get away with it?” It takes the power out of the people’s hands and places it firmly in the party’s.

I can’t completely disagree with that, my caveat is that there’s no real alternative system or party in place, because top-down change is ineffective; a third party president has to contend with a two party congress.

Except no. This whole "Biden just wants to do as much fucked up shit as possible while not being a Republican, and if you give him a second term he'll do more fucked up shit deliberately to spite you" mindset is only possible as an interpretation if you a) deliberately and comprehensively ignore everything he has done to date, and b) you approach the situation with the maximum bad faith possible. Not to mention, the ultimate outcome of this Big Important Teaching Biden A Lesson is that Trump gets back into power and makes everything orders of magnitude worse, because he does in fact want to deliberately do evil shit to everyone and says so at every opportunity. There is not some magical happy alternative that springs into existence by not voting. If you choose this as a year to Teach Biden A Lesson, you are enabling Trump. Trump will be much, much worse. If you don't care about that, I still do not care what your Great Ideology is. You are not helping anyone and you are directly and irreversibly hurting everyone.

I made a post a few days ago wherein I mentioned that I want to assess Biden fairly, taking into account both strengths and weaknesses, but the rampant bad-faith, lying, misreading, misrepresentation, and open sabotage of him (especially by the online left; the GOP sometimes only wishes they were as good at turning Biden's voter pool against him) makes it really difficult to do that. My frustration with those people makes me just want to go "BIDEN IS GREAT THE END." I know he is a flawed old man (though by literally every account of a career spent in public service, he really does care about making the world a better place and any remotely good faith reading of his accomplishments thus far can see that). It is also very likely that he goes MORE left in a second term because he won't have to face the electorate again, he has always gone more left when pushed before, and he's not actually the scheming genocidal mastermind that leftist social media paints him as. Shocking, I know.

I know there are things in the world we don't like and don't want and want to stop, and therefore we blame our own president for not making it stop. But I have zero, no, none, absolutely none whatsoever sympathy for this pseudo-populist "WE NEED TO TEACH BIDEN A LESSON BY ELECTING TRUMP AGAIN, I AM VERY MORAL MUCH ACTIVIST" mindset. There's this funny thing about America wherein it is still (for now) a democracy. If Biden wins a second term, he can't run again. I would take literally anything these people said more seriously if they focused on developing their dream progressive successor for 2028 (and also figured out how to get that person elected and in a place to make real change) rather than cynically sabotaging Biden in the most consequential election year, again, of our lifetimes. If you don't like him now, find a way to make his successor a better option. Throwing a toddler tantrum and handing the country back to a senile, deranged, fascist, revenge-riddled, theocratic Trump HELPS. NOBODY. I still don't know how many times I'm going to have to say that, but yeah.

[frogchiro]

virgin sacrifice reader offered to war god ghost?? prepare to be his lovely wife instead of a sacrifice with at least 10 demigods running around, he wants to raise strong warriors!

Ghost would definitely be a god similiar to Ares; a god of war, brutality, bloodshed, masculinity and virility. Men go and pray by his shrine or in his dedicated temple to give them strength in both battle and bed, to be a strong and unbeatable warrior and be able to father strong, healthy children.

One such temple, the main one, is in a surprisingly remote location, surrounded not by a major city or capital but a few villages. According to myths it was this place where a brutal battle took place millenia ago where the fearsome god Ghost defeated an army all by himself, the blood of his slain enemies served to make the land fertile and for many villages to grow and prosper...until now.

Usually sacrifaces to appease the god would be made by the men of the villages; black stallions, the strongest bulls, wine, silver and pure steel, everything that has connections to masculinity and power, however some kind of horrible fatum seems to hang over your little village. The animals either die young or are sickly and weak, the wine turns out sour like vinegar, there in so money to buy anything either and it's taken as a curse by the elders. If nothing will be done and Ghost won't have his sacrifice who knows what will happen?

So they decide on the next best thing, a desperate last choice reach in hopes to appease the brutal god-a virgin sacrifice. The prettiest, unmarried and untouched young woman is to be chosen, dressed in the finest, gauzy silks and locked inside the stone temple in hopes that the god will come down and the blood of a slain virgin will calm his fury. Luck wasn't on your side it seems, you were chosen.

All you could remember were the desperate cries of your mother, the dissapointed remorseful look on your father's face and the ritual cleansing of the old crones in the village. You were cleaned in rose water, intricate patterns were drawn with a mixture of honey, mushed up berries and flowers on your breasts, around your nipples and bellybutton, and the most intricate was drawn on the place where your womb was. You were clothed in a white gauzy dress that was a symbol of your purity and then you were bound and dragged to the temple no matter how much you struggled and kicked and pleaded until you were finally locked in the dimly lit temple, only the many candles present to lighten the main chamber and to show the powerful, majestic sculpture of the god, Ghost.

Imagine crying yourself to sleep, everything hurt, you were scared and confused, all alone to die in this forsaken temple because some old men decided on it. Falling asleep out of exhaustion, the images of your crying, terrified mother haunting you even when sleeping.

Imagine waking up and instead of feeling cold and sore from sleeping on the unforgiving stone floor, and instead finding yourself laying on and under the most luxurious furs you've ever seen, the warmth of them felt like a blanket and the smell of them, pleasant warm masculine musk made a shiver run down your spine, just where were you?

Before you had the chance of looking around the room, you felt huge, strong arms clamping togehter around you and bringing you into a powerful, broad chest which rumbled with a growl like purr and a stern voice saying:

"Stay. Don't move around girl."

And the very same arms turned you gently around to face the man behind you and you couldn't help but gasp and breath out a tiny, frightened yelp-behind you was laying a man who looked like the stone sculpture of Ghost cane to life and became human. It...it was Ghost. You laid next to a god.

[thetreetopinn]

Sources for Somerton's Plagiarism from Hbomberguy's Video (as much as I could get)

I went back through Harry's video, focused entirely on the sources James Somerton pulled from in the hopes of creating as much of a comprehensive list as I could--though my Google-Fu is not very strong. I did however find something I thought was forever lost and that made me very happy--specifically the magazine Midlands Zone containing the column by Steven Spinks that Harry poignantly used as an illustration of gay erasure... while Somerton uses it to sound like HE is waxing remorseful about the very subject.

This is not a complete list, I'm sure. For one thing, I was only able to attempt to pull sources that Harry himself mentioned in the video. Surely there's so very much more out there. I expect there to be a great deal more internet archeology to unearth just how much writing and culture Somerton has stolen like he's the British Museum of Natural History but for gay people.

- - - - -

Harry's list of mentioned youtubers:

Alexander Avila - https://www.youtube.com/@alexander_avila Matt Baume - https://www.youtube.com/@MattBaume Khadija Mbowe - https://www.youtube.com/@KhadijaMbowe Lady Emily - https://www.youtube.com/@LadyEmilyPresents Shanspeare - https://www.youtube.com/@Shanspeare RickiHirsch - https://www.youtube.com/@RickiHirsch VerilyBitchie - https://www.youtube.com/@verilybitchie

Harry created a convenient playlist of videos by these and other people he wants to bring to everyone's attention.

Please give them your support.

- - - - -

Midlands Zone Magazine - Column by Steven Spinks

After a great deal of searching, I found an archive of the "Midlands Zone" magazine, where you can read through past issues dating all the way back to February 2014. I have also found the issue from which Somerton took Spinks' poignant discussion of gay erasure: Overall archive Specific Issue - Pages 16-17

It will not allow you to download it, but you can read it exactly as it appeared in print form.

- - - - -

My best effort to find the exact book or article Somerton lifted from to be able to get attention to the original writers

Tinker Bells and Evil Queens By Sean Griffin

The Celluloid Closet By Vito Russo Wikipedia article about the book Wikipedia article about the documentary My weak google-fu could not find where you can access the book or documentary. Check your local municipal or university library for book or documentary, or if you know a good source for one or both, please reblog with it added

Camp and the Gay Sensibility By Jack Babuscio

The Groundbreaking Queerness of Disney's Mulan By Jes Tom Personal site with links to social media accounts

Why Rebel Without a Cause was a milestone for gay rights By Peter Howell

Why "The Craft" is still the best Halloween coming out movie By Andrew Park

Opinion: From facehuggers to phallic tails, is 'Alien' one of the queerest films ever? By Dani Leever

Women and Queerness in Horror: Jennifer's Body By Zoe Fortier

[Pride 2019] We Have Such Sights to Show You: Hellraiser and the Spectrum of Queerness By Alejandra Gonzalez

Revealing the Hellbound Heart of Clive Barker's 'Hellraiser' By Colin Arason

Queering James Cameron's Aliens (1986) By Bart Bishop

Demeter and Persephone in space: transformation, femininity, and myth in the 'Alien' films By David Greven

Fears of a millennial masculinity: Scream's queer killers By David Greven (Scholarly site, unable to access original work, offers a way to request a full copy of the text in PDF)

Queer Subtext in Stephen King's It - Part 1: 'Reddie' Character Analysis By Rachel Brands Rachel is the very unfortunate lady who found out she was being stolen from because she supported Somerton through Patreon and saw one of his videos early with her writing--lacking any form of citation or credit

How 'It: Chapter Two' Leaves Richie Tozier Behind By Joelle Monique

When Horror Becomes Strength: Queer Armor in Stephen King's 'IT' By Alex London

Why Queer People Love Witchcraft By Amanda Kohr

'The Favourite' Queers The Past And The Present By Giorgi Plys-Garzotto

(Wuko) Crush (Mako x Wu) By MoonFlower on YouTube

5 Terrible Movies With Awesome Hidden Meanings By J.F. Sargent

The Radicalization of Sexuality: The Queer Casae of Jeffrey Dahmer By Ian Barnard

Netflix's 'Dahmer' backlash highlights ethical issues in the platform's obsession with true crime By Shivani Dubey

The Possible Disturbing Dissonance Between Hajime Isayama's Beliefs and Attack on Titan's Themes Original Article by "Seldom Musings" (Author has made all posts not related to Attack On Titan private and has retired from the blog)

Everyone Loves Attack on Titan. So Why Does Everyone Hate Attack on Titan? By Gita Jackson

- - - - -

The following people are otherwise named in the video. There are no direct citations of articles or books by them in said video. I am unable to guarantee that I have identified the correct individual.

Darren Elliott-Smith Michaela Barton David Church Claire Sisco King Amanda Howell Jessica Roy

- - - - -

Telos announced and cancelled a film likely based on this book: The Final Girl Support Group - By Grady Hendrix

- - - - -

I refrained from including certain sources.

First off only focusing on Somerton's work.

Secondly not including anything that might be visible enough to not require amplifying their voice (I cannot speak for all of those I have found links to, but journalism is frequently a thankless job).

Thirdly any source that is of a nature that is antithetical to the very existence of the queer community, such as the right-leaning source that didn't make it into Somerton's video, but Harry was able to identify as a source he had considered using.

If you feel I have missed a mentioned source--or you know of a source from material that was not covered in Harry's video--please do not hesitate to reblog with added details.

- - - - -

Please share this information far and wide, and please add to it if you find more material that can be positively identified and linked to the creator/writer.

[chatsukimi]

ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

featuring: protective!heian!sukuna, kindhearted!servant!reader. slight angst/hurt -> comfort. synopsis: you're sick. to your surprise, you're rescued by the man second closest to death himself. masterlist

you should've known he wouldn't come. sukuna has never set foot in the servant's headquarters in his life, let alone to chase after a sick servant. you lower your head, trying to ease the headache that has plagued you through the day.

sukuna loves his bloodshed and his gore. him and death would be good friends, you think to yourself. he wouldn't care if your body was burnt or buried, you think to yourself; wouldn't care if you died at all.

the room the others put you in is empty. ash spreads neatly over the cold floor. the scent of kibble haunts the atmosphere. it's where they put the dogs before sukuna killed them.

ever since you took care of the king of curses while he was sick, the other servants had been careful in keeping a distance from you. not in ill of heart; they're simply terrified at what you must've done to survive in your week long stay with the monster. honestly, you don't blame them.

but now when you're laying on the freezing ground, struggling to breathe, it's hard not to.

'this is where you live?'

your eyes look up. shock. then, with all the strength you can muster, you heave yourself one step away from the man at the doorway, which only serves to piss him off more.

sukuna ryomen, in all his glory, looks down at you. bending down to pick you up like a limp doll to be seated against the wall, he seems to revel in his regained strength. you can't help but feel happy for him, to have survived this fatal disease. not many men can attest to that...

then again, he is no ordinary man.

'i asked you a question.'

you nod, a small thing, barely a movement. he seems to clench his teeth.

he takes off his long white coat, flaunting a layer of dried blood, and drapes it over your shoulders.

yet it doesn't end there. he retrieves from his pocket a bottle of what looks to be a golden syrup.

you know exactly what it is.

he takes your hand and wraps it around the flask, making you hold it, sparing, not one, but two of his eyes, to stare at you, making sure you do as he commands.

'swallow.'

you shake your head. you know he's asking you to do. this is a medication is so rare for your disease that no sorcerer has found in over a hundred years. he's brought this thing of myth right to your very lips. now he's asking you to drink it, and thus take away any chance of it saving anyone else's life.

you scowl, but the tickling sensation in your throat grows stronger, eventually erupting out of your mouth in a harsh cough. you look away from sukuna.

'leave,' you whisper, weakly. 'don't wanna infect you.'

'i survived the illness already. i've developed an immunity.'

you shake your head again. you couldn't threaten your king's health with your own weakness. you just couldn't.

'i can't take this.'

he growls. without any notice, he swallows your lips in a kiss. in the momentary haze, you could hardly resist, fisting the front of his kimono to ground yourself. then, you feel something sweet, honey-ish, hit your tongue.

with his hand locked on your chin, it forces you to swallow.

you pull back, pushing him away. he groans.

he wipes his mouth, still with two eyes staring.

no... no, why did he do that?

'y-you- how? no... why did you waste it on me?' you whisper, desperately searching his face for an answer. 'i'm just a servant. you could've given it to a princess, or a scholar, or priest-'

he grabs you by the arm and forces you into his arms. its heat astounds you, and you find yourself crawling closer. a vague thumping sound seems to press against your ear-

oh. you calm your breathing.

it's his heartbeat.

alive.

'sleep in my room tonight,' he demands.

what did he say? you strain your mind, trying to replay what he said earlier. no... maybe you heard correctly.

'but i'm no concubine,' you respond, instantly.

his arm supports your waist, helping you up effortlessly to your feet. he then directs two of his eyes to the doorway, his cadence low and domineering.

'it doesn't matter.'

he leads you placidly through the servant's quarters. you notice all conversation cease at your entry, bodies dropping into a low bow. a small voice in you whispers that it's where you should be too. you tug at sukuna's arm.

'i'm only a servant, sukuna.'

you know what it looks like, a servant clutching onto a man, more god than human. a man who has slaughtered villages, blood staining the base of his kimono crimson, and turned half a province on its head, just to save you.

'whatever you are in my eyes is what you are to the world,' he states, his expression unchanging. 'if i deem you a queen, that is who you are.'

exiting the servant compound, you know you can't say no- not like you wanted to. the wide expanse of his chest is comforting.

yet however sweet this feeling remains, you can't help but gulp. perhaps this is the closest a human has ever come to courting death.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I'm in a roll....

The 141 in grey sweatpants. 🥵

You're in a roll? Me too. A brioche roll. Or maybe a Hawaiian roll. Or rolled inside one of Price's many cigars. Kidding (not really). I knew what you meant.

And grey sweatpants...yes please! I am salivating over here. Literally drooling. And it's only grey sweatpants. No shirts. No shoes. Just sweatpants and muscle. (my god I need to go touch grass).

These are...spicy. How could they not be? It's our favorite men in nothing but grey sweatpants.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, swearing, invitations for sex, dirty thoughts, sexual situations, married life, fade to black

Word Count: 2k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“It’s bedtime. Bath. Pajamas. Teeth.”

“But Dad! Lucy and I—”

“Bed.” You grin into your glass as John ushers the children out of the living room. “Come on you two. I want to kiss your mother.”

“Ew. Gross!” the kids screech in unison.

The trio disappears down the hallway. You hear water running and the laughter of your children. John eventually emerges thirty minutes later. He runs his hand over the top of his head, sighing heavily.

When he enters the living room and notices you, he grins mischievously. His body is on full display. Broad chest with a lovely dusting of dark hair that trails downward to disappear beneath the band of his grey sweatpants. John is all thick muscle. A wall of strength. You’ve always loved that about him. How he seems to take up so much space or the way he crushes you with his body when he goes in for a snuggle.

John plops down on the sofa beside you. The moment his ass hits the cushion, John grabs for you. You giggle, playfully pushing at your husband as his weight tips you back, pinning you to the sofa.

“The kids,” you protest with a whisper.

“They’re sleeping,” he replies just as softly, keeping you pressed beneath him.

John goes in for a kiss. It is sweet. Slow. Deep. Completely indulgent. There is so much of him. And his scent is everywhere. It fills your lungs. Makes you weak.

Your lips part and John slips his tongue inside. You start to soften, to lean into his kisses. Each is salt-laced passion. A tease for later. He might have you pinned against the couch, and his tongue down your throat, but John will move this behind a locked door.

As John goes in for another kiss, the sound of a door unlatching comes from the hall. John freezes and you go still beneath him.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters.

Pushing up to a more seated position, John addresses the offender with a raised voice. “You best be in bed.”

There’s a gentle squeak, and then a door closing.

John sinks back down, resting his forehead against yours. He sighs heavily, and you give him a quick kiss. He returns it, and then snakes an arm under your back. He hauls you up and into his lap. You straddle him, hands pressed against his firm chest.

Through the sweatpants, you can feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. John’s hands roam downward to cup your buttocks, squeezing.

“Ready to take this elsewhere?” he asks, grinding his hips upward.

You have to stifle a moan.

“Please, John.”

With a light slap to your ass, he lifts you off his lap and onto your feet. The ground is solid. Steady. But then John’s hands return, and then you’re away, being guided down the hall to your bedroom.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You snuggle into the couch and crack open your paperback book.

Everything is in order. You have a glass of wine, a bowl of snacks, the tableside lamp on, and a cozy blanket. It’s late, but it’s officially the weekend. There will be plenty of time to relax.

“Reading out here?”

You glance up, and find Kyle in the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall. He’s shirtless. Without shoes. Just him, his freshly showered skin, and a pair of grey sweatpants. Kyle absently scratches at his chiseled stomach, head slightly tilted as he waits for your answer.

You can’t help but focus in on every line of muscle.

“Babe,” he prompts, laughing.

“Sorry?” you reply, blinking.

Kyle laughs again, the sound sweet. He strides forward, coming to a stop beside the sofa. He taps the side of his mouth. “Got some drool.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you giggle, checking with a quick wipe with the back of your hand.

Kyle’s smile is infectious. You can’t help but match it.

“Can I join you?” he asks, already lifting the blanket.

“You’re not going out with the boys?”

Kyle shakes his head. With one hand he lifts the blanket, and with the other he grabs your legs and lifts. He slides in, and drapes your legs over his lap before returning the blanket to drape over your body. Keeping one hand under the blanket, Kyle rests his hand on your inner thigh. It stirs heat in your core.

“Tomorrow,” he yawns. “Simon has a sick kid.”

“Bummer.”

Kyle shrugs, draping his over arm over the back of the couch. His hand on your thigh is a brand, and it’s only made worse when he starts massaging.

“Is it a spicy one?” asks Kyle, nodding toward your book.

Yes.

“Maybe,” you say slowly.

Kyle smirks, and then the book is out of your hand.

“Kyle!” You reach for it, but he twists, blocking your forward momentum.

He examines the pages in front of him. Heat rushes into your cheeks. As he reads, his eyes widen.

Kyle’s mouth drops open.

“What?” you prompt. You try to snag the book but he blocks you.

He glances at you. “Are you aware of where he’s putting that gun?”

“It’s fictional.”

“When you ask me to recreate things—”

“Kyle—”

“—is this what you’re talking about?” His gaze goes from you to the book and then to you again. “I’m down for a lot of things, love, but I’m not sure I’m down for that.”

Pushing off from the couch, you snatch the book out of Kyle’s hands. He surrenders it easily, a smile on his perfect face. The blanket is a crumbled mess beside him, but that’s not what you’re focused on.

The grey sweatpants have shifted, exposing more of the deep v of his pelvis. But it’s not just that. Kyle is hard. That is very clear.

He leans against the back of the couch, throwing both arms out to rest over the top. Flexing his hips, Kyle puts himself on display.

“I’ve got something else I can put inside you.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

A delighted shriek comes from the kitchen.

Johnny emerges, completely unbothered even with the two children in his arms. He has the oldest child, who just turned five, sideways and tucked under one arm. The boy has a wicked smile of his face even as he wiggles, trying to free himself from his father’s grasp. It’s fruitless.

The other child, a boy of three, keeps shrieking with delight even as Johnny lifts him into the air by his ankle. He is upside down, arms flailing, his brown hair hanging below him.

Johnny doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t even break a sweat. He carries the two of them like it’s nothing.

He’s almost completely naked except for a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. They show off the deep v of his pelvis, and the dusting of dark hair that spreads over his chest and descends downward. You’ve touched that chest so many times. You know it as well as you know yourself.

Johnny’s gaze is on the television, watching the football match. The kids still shriek and playfully claw at him. But he remains unbothered.

Sitting there on the sofa, you consider that a third kid might not be so bad. You’d give him a small army if he asked.

Johnny glances away from the television, and when his gaze lands on you, it is entirely knowing. Heat curls in your belly, and his smile widens.

“Found these gremlins digging in the pantry,” he says, indicating the kids by hoisting the three-year old higher into the air and squeezing the other tighter against him.

Both kids giggle manically.

“After brushing their teeth.” Johnny tuts. “What’s to be done?”

Both children continue to giggle, not answering their father.

“Sounds like it’s time for bed,” you muse.

The children groan.

“But I’m not tired,” moans the five-year old.

“Too bad,” laughs Johnny. “Come on.”

He doesn’t put them down. He carries them like that all the way to their bedroom. Even from your spot on the sofa, you can hear their manic giggling. After a while, it quiets down, and Johnny emerges from the hall.

Instead of sitting down on the couch next to you, he grabs the remote and shuts off the television.

“Not interested in the game?” you ask.

“Nope. Want something else.”

His sultry smile tells you enough.

Slowly, he approaches, coming to a stop in front of you. He offers his hand, and you take it. With little effort, Johnny brings you to your feet, and hauls you close. Your free hand immediately rises, pressing against his chiseled stomach.

“What is it that you want?” you murmur, already knowing the answer.

His hardness presses against your belly, his voice going low and gravelly as he speaks. “I’d like to spend some time between those gorgeous thighs.”

“Doing what?”

“Whatever I very well please.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

This is agony. A terrible joke.

Simon is right there. Sweaty. Shirtless. In nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants.

He’s completely in the zone. Heavy metal blares through the stereo’s speakers, drowning out the sound of his gloved fists striking the punching bag. Morning light pours in from the open window, giving Simon an ethereal glow.

You watch from the doorway, chewing on your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him. Simon is all muscle, and not in a gym rat way. He is thick everywhere. You want to lick the sweat from his skin, to drop to your knees before him, and tug those grey sweatpants down.

You know what you’d find. And it sounds delicious.

But he is in the zone. And you won’t disturb him.

Pushing down the naughty thoughts, you start to turn away, to return to the kitchen and find something to eat for breakfast.

The music abruptly cuts off.

“See something you like, love?”

Simon’s raspy voice draws you back to the room. With one hand on the doorframe, you meet his gaze, and promptly melt into the floor. He has a cocky grin on his face, and his shoulders heave slightly from exhaustion.

You lick your lips. “Always,” you reply, fingers digging into the wood.

Simon’s gaze scans you. You feel exposed, like he can see through your clothes. It’s knowing. Amused.

“What is it?” you prompt, staring just as hard as he is.

Simon removes one glove and then the other. He tosses them to the side, never taking his eyes off you.

“Come here,” he says.

You don’t move.

Simon arches a single eyebrow. Instead of repeating himself, he gestures with one finger, indicating that he wants you to come to him.

Heat rushes from your cheeks down to your toes. Slowly, you peel yourself away from the door, heading for him. Simon’s natural swagger is alluring, and those sweatpants sit so low.

Just one tug. That’s all it would take. And you’d be able to take him in your mouth.

As you approach, Simon reaches out, grabbing your waist, tugging you close to him. You instinctually hook your finger in the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

Simon smirks.

You inhale deeply, savoring the manly musk of him.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Not for breakfast,” you sigh.

“For something else then?”

You nod.

Simon leans in but doesn’t kiss you. He holds back slightly, lips curved into a hint of a smile. “Want to hear what I have in mind?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

Simon presses his thumb on your bottom lip. “I can fill that mouth.” His thumb drops away from your lips, and trails over your chin before brushing over your stomach. “And belly.”

His gaze stays on you. “What do you think of that, love?”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[duothelingo]

Serious post gross.

I know I have a lot of followers who are trans minors so grandpa duo wants to give some wisdom that I wish someone told me when I was a baby trans man.

You don’t have to change your name. You can keep it. It’s not a requirement.

You don’t have to have T/E to be trans.

Don’t wear your binder while doing sports. It hurts.

You don’t have to be hyper masculine or hyper feminine. Just be you.

Do not use bandages. They can cause issues.

Surgery isn’t a requirement.

Being part of the lgbtqia+ community is a new family. If yours doesn’t support you now, we do.

You don’t have to pass to be trans. You are trans anyway. You look good.

Go to a coffee shop and use your chosen name to get a feel for it. They’ll shout it.

Be proud of who you are. It’s not a weakness it’s a strength.

If it’s not safe for you to come out, I promise it will be one day. The closet sucks but it’s better than being hurt. Use that time to find other people in your situation.

Being trans isn’t glamorous. It’s tears, pain, hurt and being unsure. That’s okay.

Detransitioning is fine. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Transitioning later in life is fine. Transitioning early in life is fine.

Transitioning wont happen over night. If you take hormones, it can take up to 5 years to see big differences.

Bottom surgery isn’t a requirement.

Top surgery isn’t a requirement.

You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to.

It’s okay to be angry about not being cis.

It’s okay to mourn the person you were.

You can change your name again, you don’t have to stick with it.

Love,

Someone who was forced back into the closet at 13 and is now transitioning at nearly 26.

Please add to this if you have anything else!