#it genuinely seems like a better fit for me and literally everyone in my life thought so too

[bibiana112]

Girl from game design course had the gall to tell me she's obsessed with the number 9 a lot because she was born on the 9th of September of 1999 and I. You can guess how normal I am being about that

[ladyluscinia]

Ugh I'm still thinking about that damn tweet so...

2x08 Reaction #6

Ok, so this is not a screed against people posting about or hoping for Izzy's return - whether in joking denial or genuine belief. Like if that's what makes you feel better after the finale, you are entitled to all the posts, fix-it fics, etc.

But.

I really want to push back on this idea that it's this obvious thing canon is supporting.

This is not another Lucius situation. Like. It's just not.

Look, when Lucius was "killed" at the end of S1, it was a joke everyone was in on. He got tossed over the side of the ship with a little "fwoop" and a literal shoe spinning in the air. His "offscreen death" was confirmed by a guy who could not have known what happened after he fell. Of course he was alive.

Lucius's fake-out was so successful because it engaged with the genre of the show in a way that rewarded the audience for buying into the suspension of disbelief.

Izzy's death... doesn't.

Izzy dies from a stray bullet in a shot that you might miss on first watch. He's not doing anything important, or protecting anyone. It's random. They reveal he's injured and then make it back to the ship, only for him to give a dramatic deathbed speech. He dies on screen, and they immediately cut to his funeral.

This isn't the kind of death that fits with OFMD's universe. They tried to borrow a scene from Black Sails or something and just sanded down its edges. Killing a character in the main cast just because "it's a pirate show"? Really? The daring escape plan is real and dangerous and life-threatening in the same episode where Auntie survives an explosion, and we watched Zheng and Edward casually massacre their way through a dozen soldiers each?

I'm buying into the suspension of disbelief that our ragtag crew can escape scott-free because it's a silly romcom about a muppet guy where "things always have a way of working out in the end", and then the show looks me dead in the eye and says "Actually, no, this time the consequences are real. Sorry."

A bird landing on a grave doesn't change that?

Like... in Pirates of the Caribbean they can resurrect Barbossa from the dead like it's nothing because some of the first worldbuilding elements they introduce are a compass that points at what you most desire and gold that curses you into an undead existence. Of course necromancy exists.

OFMD had a guy turn into a seagull behind a tree for plausible deniability, a cursed coat rationalized as a peanut allergy, and the gravy basket which took place wholly in Edward's head. Resurrection would be a hell of a reach. Even if they did open S3 with it, it would be a retcon of Izzy's death, not a reveal that we all could have predicted.

Which does mean that pointing to vague tweets from the crew or likes of Witch!Buttons posts and pushing the idea "Look - they're telling us he'll be back!" leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Like... it's not set up as an inside joke this time. And especially if they don't get renewed - and they certainly seem worried - they should not get credited for leaving this particular beat "open" and just being thwarted by MAX or whatever.

Izzy dying right then, as shown on screen, was unambiguously their final beat.

[pedgito]

Ahhh you did my breakup sex request you literally made me cry!!! I had an idea for a part 2(if you ever want to write it lol) so two months after reader starts dating a guy who can be easily her soulmate but she gets bored cuz everything is too perfect (except the sex cuz she can’t help but compares it to eddie) and somehow one night reader ends up in eddies trailer again idk something like that haha. You’re literally the best author your writing is so good, so so talented 🖤

author’s note: i mixed this with another request i got here, but this is a continuation of this request if anyone's reading this before the other part. it's not necessary but the context will help.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), fem!reader, makeup sex?, cheating (sort of? reader is over her boyfriend and he's an asshole so yeah), exhibitionism (barely, they're in private but other people are around), angst, confessions, jason is an asshole, eddie is degrading of the readers bf toward her, multiple orgasms, fights (brief description of injury), lots of smut, ect. let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.7k

You can’t even bring yourself to look at him, most of the time. Eddie’s done a perfect job at ignoring, pretending you don’t exist, plucking you out of his life—just like you asked, but you weren’t sure what hurt more—knowing how easily he could move on, or how badly you regretted all of it in the first place. 

It didn’t matter that Eddie was struggling every day to not look your direction, hug you, just be in your presence—it was a constant, daily reminder of how badly he’d fucked up. Maybe if he was a better boyfriend, maybe if he paid attention more often and didn't throw himself into everything he loved so passionately, then you would have stayed.

It doesn’t take long for you to move on, but you thrive on codependency, being with someone, and you never expected that person to be Jason—but he just fits, or, you made him fit. You have similar interests, he’s sweet to you when he tries to be, and he always knows how to make you feel special; the sex was another story.

And it wasn’t that Eddie wasn’t sweet or caring—Eddie was all of that, but you melded with Jason on a level that Eddie couldn’t reach, at least that’s what you told yourself.

Jason was performative in a different way—Eddie loved to make a scene, grab everyone’s attention, but the affection he showed you was never meant for show. He kissed you in private, told you all the filthiest things in the world that would have you blushing in public, but those words were meant for you and no one else. He’d hold your hand when you were nervous, or rub your back when you were worried. Eddie always knew when to lean in and when to back away—with Jason, it was never genuine. 

He only ever kissed you in front of his friends and constantly bolstered himself up on a pedestal when you were around, like you were just another worthless person to impress—and that’s when you realized that the only thing Jason really needed was approval. He only acted like he enjoyed the same things you did to come off as likable, he bought you expensive gifts to make you feel worthy, and he was everything that every girl could ask for, but not you.

And as horribly as you feel about it, the sex was the breaking point. He was quick and rushed and never focused on anything but himself, it was such a whiplash experience from what you had with Eddie that it left you in tears, most of the time—you’d shove Jason out of your house quickly afterwards, curl up on your bed, and weep until it hurt less. It was your own selfishness that wanted to you to be taken care of too; sex was a shared experience, and you enjoyed it, it only seemed fair that it was equal on both ends. Jason didn’t see it that way, unfortunately.

Jason accosts you in front of his friends at lunch that Friday, his arms winding around your waist as he leans over to kiss you on the cheek, flashing the trademark toothy grin at you. 

“You’re coming to the party, right?” He asks, the watchful eyes of others not giving you much of a chance to weasel your way out of his grasp. “Everyone’s gonna be there.”

“I guess,” You shrug, forcing a fake smile as he lets you go just as quickly, taking a seat at the head of the lunch table, “did Lucas ever get back to you?”

“He said he’d go,” Jason taps his fork against the tray, moving the food around, “but he wants me to invite all of them—some shit about being inclusive or whatever.”

“All of Hellfire?” You ask, eyebrows pulling up in confusion. You take a glance over at the table, eyes immediately drawn toward Eddie—he’s already looking at you when you turn your head and he panics, like he’s been caught, and quickly averts his attention toward Dustin. 

“They’re all fucking freaks,” Jason says snidely, “If any of them try to ruin my party, they’re dead.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” You assure him, ignoring his obvious distaste and resentment toward the idea. “I doubt they’ll even go.”

“Yeah, let’s hope so.” 

Jason abandons you before lunch is over, making a weak excuse about needing to talk to the boys in private—but really, you didn’t care. But, they snatch Lucas up in the process, much to Eddie’s dismay. 

So when you finally leave the lunchroom to reach your locker, fiddling with the stupid lock that never wants to open, Eddie corners you. He notices the struggle, the frustrated look on your face, tongue poking out the side of your mouth.

He pulls it from your hand without questions, putting in the code and yanking at the lock with force—it opens on the first time. Eddie doesn’t have the same motivation to act smug about, his mouth pulled into a tight line. 

“Thanks,” You mumble, open the locker door to retrieve your school books—he still hasn’t left, “—did you need something?”

“Tell your boyfriend to stop spreading his stink over my table,” He says with a harsh undertone, “it makes everyone uncomfortable—especially Lucas.”

“He’s not going to listen to me,” You tell him, “he never has.”

You two had only been together a couple months, but Jason always had a mind of his own, and was always forcing you to do things you wouldn’t normally do—he had to have that control. You didn’t like fancy dinner dates or extravagant nights out, but with Jason, that’s all you got.

You just wanted movies on the couch and cheap delivery pizza, to talk for hours about books and pop culture, everything that seemed interesting to you, and you wouldn’t even mind hearing him ramble on about basketball—it was the principle of it all, Jason didn’t like to put in the effort. 

Eddie always had, you were only realizing that much too late. 

And you can’t help your curiosity, mind racing with thoughts. 

“Are you going to the party?” You ask, slipping your locker closed, taking a small glance at Eddie.

“Don’t know yet,” He shrugs. Eddie knew when to stay away, but with Jason, he couldn’t help himself, “maybe.”

He knew you were miserable, it was written all over your face, your mood, it had altered your personality into something he didn’t even recognize.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t.” You tell him honestly—it wasn’t a warning or a threat, you were just terrified of what would unfold if he did. 

Jason knew of your past with Eddie and as much as he tried not to seem bothered by it, he couldn’t grasp the idea of someone wanting to be paired up with the town freak, Eddie Munson. 

“You’re not my boss.” Eddie smirks with an immense amount of smugness. 

“I’m not trying to be,” You tell him softly, “I’m just—I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

And it’s a terrible idea, in fact—but it doesn’t stop Eddie from showing up to the party with Chrissy Cunningham by his side.

“Uh, Lucas,” You nudged the boy standing beside you, cup in hand, “did he tell you anything about that?”

Lucas is just as wide-eyed as the rest of the party, gawking at the two of them like animals in a cage. Chrissy is noticeably unfazed, as always, smiling bigger than ever. The cheerfulness wasn’t an act either, it was just her. The only thing different about Eddie is that he isn’t wearing his jacket, which strikes you as odd because he never leaves the house without it, it was like his security blanket.

“No, nothing—“ Lucas takes a glance at Jason, who’s just as tense as the rest of you, but his eyes are brimmed with an anger he only got around Eddie, for whatever reason that was, he never talked about it either, “—you might wanna check on him.”

Jason sees you coming before you even touch him, hand coming up in waiting to wrap around you waist, like you were an accessory. “Hey, it’s fine,” You try to soothe him, your free hand wrapping around his own waist, hoping he’ll turn his attention toward you, “maybe Chrissy didn’t want to come alone.”

“But Chrissy—why her?” Jason asks, voice laced with jealousy. You roll your eyes noticeably, it felt like a losing battle anymore—relationships just weren’t for you.

“Everyone loves Chrissy,” You tell him, his eyes glancing toward you briefly, a micro twitch of his face at those words, “I don’t think Eddie’s immune to that, as much as you want him to be.”

You watch Chrissy yank Eddie toward the kitchen, his feet struggling to keep up as they squeak against the tile floor, letting her wrap his fingers in between hers. You’ve never seen Eddie talk to Chrissy, so it was just as much of a mystery to you. 

And you knew the history with Jason and Chrissy, maybe he wasn’t really over her, maybe you were just a rebound—but so was he. That’s why you don’t stop him when he hurdles toward the kitchen, the rest of his posse hot on his tail, aside from Lucas. He grabs your hand before you make the decision to follow, shaking his head in warning.

“We should stay out of it.” He warns, “You know how he gets.”

“Yeah,” You nod pointedly, “That’s exactly the problem.”

“Munson,” Jason’s voice booms over the music, the entirety of the party turning their heads in his direction, ready to witness the carnage, “funny seeing you here.”

“You invited me.” He says, which is more of an attempt to make Jason look like an idiot.

He’s successful, gaining a few snickers and badly disguised laughs with a cough. 

“It wasn’t a legitimate invitation,” Jason confesses, “—and Chrissy, wow—that’s a hell of surprise, how do you two know each other?”

They both stumble over their words for a moment before Chrissy finally answers.

“I just asked him,” She settled on, “I didn’t want to come alone.”

It shouldn’t hurt Eddie as much as it did, his ego is wounded—Chrissy was cute, nice, but it was a low blow on her part, since he was the one supplying her with drugs, all while managing to keep it a secret. 

“So, pity,” Jason laughs, tipping his cup in Eddie’s direction, “—look, dude, I’d save yourself the embarrassment and just leave—it’s not like anyone wants you here—“

The last part forces you to put a stop to his assault, pulling gently at his arm, not wanting to become a secondary victim to his attack. “Jason, come on—everyone’s staring,” It took you a moment to realize that even the music had died down, all eyes on the four of you collected in the kitchen, ”babe, please.”

Eddie snorts an amused laugh at that, hand coming to rest against the counter top—he wasn’t even looking at Jason anymore, his eyes directly on you. You could see how badly he wanted to say something, make some snide comment, get back for all that you’d put him through—but it’s Jason that attacks instead, albeit, at your expense.

“I see why you like her,” Jason nods toward you, “—the mouth on her, it’s something—say, is that why you came? Did you think she was gonna take you back?”

You’ve never seen Eddie mad, but his face changes on a dime, open hand now closed fist and white knuckled. He could easily take Jason out, but he didn’t want to cause a scene, not in front of you. 

But, it’s the next thing out of Jason’s mouth that has him throwing that morale out of the window completely.

“Did you think you could come here and make a trade?” Jason antagonizes—you try to feel hurt, but it almost sounds like a good idea, you couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore, and maybe it had been like that for weeks, but tonight was the breaking point. 

Eddie punches first, slamming Jason against the ground as his fist connects with his eyebrows—again and again, until there’s blood covering his rings and Jason’s begging for relief. 

No one seems surprised—almost relieved that someone finally dealt with Jason’s shit, but it still pulls at your gut, that guilt as you stared down at him, his eyebrow split open at end, blood pouring and pooling quickly into his hand. 

Lucas senses your hesitance, kneeling down at Jason’s side, “Go—get him out of here.” He begs, shoving you away and into Eddie, his fists curled tightly at his side. You yank once, twice, until he finally gives in and lets you drag him away from the majority of the party.

The only unlocked door you can find is Jason’s bedroom, which is a horrible juxtaposition to your life. But, Eddie’s covered in blood and you know there’s enough stuff to clean him up in there, so you drag him along, silently. Eddie can’t even force himself to speak.

You move diligently, locking the door to the larger bathroom, guiding him toward the edge of the counter, squatting down to find the first aid kit under the sink before slamming it against the marble surface, finally breaking Eddie from his trance.

He doesn’t say anything, but his hand extends, allowing you to grasp it. You pull gently at his rings, letting the metal clink into the sink, covered in a sticky crimson red. The impression of his own rings had cut into his knuckles at how hard the blow to Jason’s face had been, his own blood mixed with what you could only assume was Jason’s. 

“That was stupid.” You say quietly, turning on the sink to let the water run over the rings, washing away as much blood as you could, guiding his hand under the freezing cold water, it’s even worse than the dull, throbbing pain in his hand. 

“Do you let him talk about you like that all the time?” Eddie asks suddenly, face pulled up in frustration, jealousy. 

“It’s Jason—who cares.” 

“You broke up with me for that?” He pulls his hand back suddenly, annoyed with the bitter cold of the water, but also how dismissive you were being. “Was I really that horrible of a boyfriend?”

“Eddie, no,” You say honestly, guiding his hand back toward you, rubbing a small alcohol patch against the skin, his face seemingly unfazed, “—why does this even matter?”

He goes quiet again, he feels the anger, the resentment, but the last thing he wants to do is take it out on you, not when you’re on the verge of tears—you didn’t even realize amongst all the chaos, it’s only when you finally start to calm, placing the small bandages on Eddie’s knuckles that you feel it settle in.

You clear your throat loudly, shoving his hand gently back toward his chest, slamming the kit closed and returning it to its spot underneath the sink. “Look—I don’t know why you came here tonight, I told you it was a bad idea.”

You face toward the sink, fetching his rings and attempting to wrap them in a towel to dry them, but Eddie stops your movements, taking the balled up material in his hands and placing it back down. “I can look after myself,” He tells you, his undamaged hand wrapping around your bicep, the cold sting of his fingers a shock to your warm skin, feeling overwhelmed and claustrophobic, “—why won’t you look at me?”

You shake your head slightly, eyes downturned and staring at your fidgeting hands, twisting your own dainty rings against the skin.

“Look at me.” Eddie demands softly, “Please.”

He’s met with teary eyes, lips pulled tight to keep any sounds from escaping, his thumb brushes away the stray tear that slips down your cheek.

“Is he always like that?” Eddie asks, whatever anger he felt a few minutes ago forced away, if only for a moment. You needed a friend, he could be that.

You shake your head, unable to admit it to yourself. “Not always—it doesn’t matter, Eddie. I just need to go back downstairs and tell him I’m leaving—he can finally try and get Chrissy back, I know that’s what he’s after.”

“We were coming from a deal,” Eddie tells you abruptly, your eyes pulling up to him in confusion, his hand still resting against your cheek. He hasn’t moved it and you couldn’t be bothered to move it either, “—she’s one of my regulars.”

You laugh at the absurdity, giggle bubbling from your chest. “Chrissy, seriously? God—Jason would shit himself if he knew that.” Then again, maybe he did—and maybe that’s why he hated Eddie so much. You didn’t care to find out, Jason was the last thing on your mind. 

Still, you couldn’t help but be upset at Eddie for being so irrational, causing a scene, you slap him in the chest suddenly, soft at first, but harder until he has to grip your hands, forcing you to stop. “That was stupid! Why would you do that?”

“I did that for you?” He responds passionately, and it pulls you back, surprised that he even admits it out loud. “Is that such a fucking shock that some cares about you?”

“We’re not together anymore.”

“Yeah—I’m very fucking aware of that,” Eddie snaps, “but I still care, I was your friend first, remember that?”

You’re silent, startled by his words. He’s not angry—just, upset.

“You threw all of that away,” Eddie tells you, “not me—not when I cared about you, liked you, fuck—I almost—I almost thought I loved you, you know?”

“Eddie—“

He doesn’t stop, a never ending flow of confessions. He was pouring his heart out to you in the middle of your ex-boyfriends party, hand still pounding with pain, and done with holding back for so long.

“You were worried about us not liking the same things? That I spent too much time on the things I enjoyed? You didn’t even communicate that to me,” Eddie takes a breath, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration, “maybe I was selfish for asking you to have sex with me that night, but I don’t regret—I never regretted anything in our relationship and if you hated me so much, you should’ve never committed yourself to it.”

“Eddie, I don’t regret anything—“

“And you start dating Jason, really? Jason?”

“Eddie!” You shout, and Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever heard you yell, stopping for a brief moment to hear you out. “I’m sorry—I should’ve never broken up with you the way I did.”

“Well, you did.”

And you feel it hit you, the urge to say it—it felt like you’re world was closing in on you and if you didn’t say it now, you’d never have the chance,

“I wish I’d never broken up with you at all.” You say softly, taking a step back to lean against the sink, hit with a sudden wave of vertigo or dizziness, the adrenaline of it all finally wearing off, “I can admit that now.”

“You don’t mean that.” Eddie says quietly, hand braced between you too, almost as a defensive mechanism. “Not after making me doubt everything about us.”

“You never did anything wrong,” You admit to him, “I was being selfish, I didn’t want to communicate—I just wanted things to be perfect—my perfect, but I don’t even know what this is now.”

“Relationships aren’t perfect, sweetheart.” He says soothingly, hand fading back slightly, “I’m pretty sure it’s impossible.”

“I’m starting to realize that.” You laugh bitterly, reflecting on all the stuff Jason had put you through, physically and mentally. “Look, I’m really sorry, Eddie.”

“It’s okay.”

It was not okay, but Eddie wanted to make you feel safe, even if he needed time to process everything himself. 

You reach your hand forward to slip in his own, his fingers squeeze gently in return, like no time has passed at all. The low hum of the music from downstairs is overwhelming in the silence.

“I can take you home?” Eddie suggests, wanting to ditch this place just as bad. “If that’s what you want.”

You laugh softly at his weak attempt to be chivalrous, even if he was still upset with you, and it doesn’t dawn on you until you’re staring at the locked door of the bathroom, staring at Eddie, that you realized just how pissed you are at Jason—you were so caught up in making sure Eddie was alright that you forgot how cruel Jason had been toward Eddie, at your own expense. And if there was one parting gift you could leave Jason with, it would be this.

Eddie sees it too, the look in your eyes, like a silent agreement that whatever was to happen was just that—you could leave it here and forget about it afterwards, avoid the long awkward talk—just enjoy each other, because you knew you both needed it so desperately. 

He’s on you instantly, arms looping around your middle to lift you up onto the counter, spreading your legs open until he is snug, fit between you like the last piece of a puzzle, exactly when you need. His hands are calculated, rough, yanking your head back until your mouth meets his and it feels fucking amazing. 

You haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, overwhelmed by the sensation that you gasp loudly, eyes glaring into Eddie’s, his relaxed stare turning heated, his other hand slipping under your thigh, locking it around his hip until your cunt is pressed against the growing tent in his pants. He’s desperate for control and you can’t be bothered to fight it, letting him pull your head back until you’re grunting in pain, his lips latching into your neck greedily, leave a sizable bruise that’s too hard to ignore—and usually you aren’t one for hickeys, but you can’t be bothered to say no. You wanted it.

“Fuck, he really doesn’t touch you like this, does he?” Eddie asks redundantly, he knows Jason can’t, won’t—he’s unable to care about anyone but himself. “I’ve barely even kissed you and you’re already worked up.”

His hands push along the squishy flesh of your thighs, underneath the flowing material of your skirt until his fingertips bump your hip bones, squeezing tightly at the skin until you’re yelping, the small tickling sensation driving you wild.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He demands, leaning forward to sneak his tongue out against your top lip, teasing you greatly before dipping down to slip his tongue past your lips completely, kissing you sloppily. “Need to hear you admit it.”

“He doesn’t,” You rush out through smothered kisses, the sound of your voice swallowed up by Eddie and his eager mouth, “haven't even—he doesn't make me come, it’s been so long.”

“How long?” Eddie asks softly, tipping your chin up with his fingers, pulling back slightly to look at you. “Tell me.”

“Since I’ve had an orgasm?”

He nods, thumb pulling at your bottom lip until it slips away.

“A couple days,” You tell him; it wasn’t a lie, “maybe three.”

“I’m not talking about doing it yourself,” He smiles, the warmth of his breath hitting your face, “has he ever made you come?”

You shake your head, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Eddie makes a small noise of astonishment, not that he’s entirely surprised, but that you allowed it to go on for so long—you, of all people. His hand slips around the back of your neck, thumb pressing against the point where your jaw meets.

“Let’s fix that, yeah?” He nods, urging to move off the counter and follow him. “Lock his door.”

The his makes it even worse, realizing how dirty this feels—but you can’t be bothered to care. You both make a hurried attempt at unlocking the bathroom door, letting Eddie flip the light switch on while you fumble clumsily with his lock, alight with nerves you’ve never felt before, hands shaking with anxiety.

Eddie noticed your hesitation, invading your space until he’s lodged between you and the door, head tilted down to look at you, “Hey—we don’t have to—“

You laugh at yourself, eyes squeezing shut, nose scrunching up in amusement. You feel ridiculous. It was Eddie. Eddie. You had nothing to be worried about.

“God—shut up,” You say endearingly, squeezing his face in your hands until he’s leaning forward to kiss you, large hands traveling down your thighs until you’re jumping into his grip, letting him carry you to the neatly made bed, no doubt to be ruined in a few moments, “—fuck, do whatever you want, I don’t care.”

Eddie cups your cunt, fingers tracing gently over the thin material of your underwear, his eyebrows quirks up in question. 

“Yeah?” You nod furiously, the way you jerk at the smallest bit of pressure has him shaking his head in disbelief, “He couldn’t even touch you? You’re kidding me?”

You don’t answer and it causes Eddie to pull back, fully questioning every part of your relationship with Jason; it was a mystery how he could withstand touching you, almost seeming disgusted by it—it baffled Eddie to the point of speechlessness.

“Foreplay? Anything?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head, Eddie tuts softly in response.

“Sweetheart, you deserve so much more.” He says honestly, and you could burst into tears if you weren’t turned on right now, cunt pulsing at every minor touch Eddie made against your opening, sliding slowly up to the sensitive nub of your clit.

“Look at you,” He says tantalizingly, head tilted up slightly in a way to mock your own, your own head tilting back toward the pillows, mouth open on a wordless gasp, “I think I can make you come before I’m even inside you.”

You couldn’t even argue, it was absolutely possible. 

Eddie carefully slips his hand up and under the thin barrier of your panties, the first bare touch of his finger like electricity, sliding through your slick and back toward your clit, the ease of friction was too much, your hand grabbing desperately at his forearm, the muscles flexing underneath your grip with every movement. Eddie leans over you more, free hand rising to brush the loose hair from your face, thumb rubbing gently against your forehead, his wide eyes boring into your own. 

You moan without shame, openly and allowing the sounds to mix with the steady beat of the music. Eddie’s enjoy it too much, mouth opening with every sound you made, another easy attempt to mock you, flashing his big smile every time you caught on, but it didn’t stop you—and it definitely didn’t stop him. He’s rubbing deliberate, tight circles against your clit, determined to get you off quickly and break that long running streak that Jason had forced you into—none of that existed anymore. 

“Eddie, huh—I’m gonna,” You breath catches, back arching off the bed as he stops for a moment, leaning forward to bite along the side of your jaw, gently at your cheek, whispering into your ear.

“Where are your manners?” Eddie asks softly, “Didn’t forget them, did you?”

“Fuck, please—please, Eddie. I can’t take this.” You beg, moaning loudly as he continued his movements, with fervor and quickness, “—oh, Eddie—I’m so close—just want to come, please?”

“Go ahead.” He whispers softly, face resting gently against the side of yours as you come with a drawn out moan, hips jerking through your orgasm, his middle finger working you through the high until you finally come back down, tapping gently at his hand until he finally gives you some relief, his smile entirely too smug. 

“He’s really missing out,” Eddie tells you, voice soft, “You look so pretty when you come.”

And you don’t think you’ve ever blushed harder, shoving Eddie’s face away from yours playfully, giggling when he nips at your shoulder. You could drag this out, indulge in everything you missed out on for the last couple of months, but you really just wanted Eddie inside you—sex with him was…palpable. There  was always a charge of something within it, a connection that you didn’t have with Jason—it was like a drug.

“I could say the same thing for you,” You tease, yanking Eddie down against you, letting him shift until he’s settled between your legs, “—but I think I might need a refresher.”

Eddie pulls at his belt, shirt lifted halfway up his stomach as he works against the material, tossing his belt, then pants to the side—and somehow manages to pull your skirt and panties down in one go, save for your shirt. “Condoms?” He asks, when he’s finally settled back between your legs.

Fuck, you really should have thought about that. 

You lean over to the bedside table, rummaging through Jason's cluttered drawer and finally find the box, albeit empty, as you turn it over to shake out on the bed, discarding the useless cardboard.

Eddie chuckles from beside you, palming at his hard cock, your own face still filled with worry, anticipation. “Won’t be the first time, right?” You shake your head sheepishly, “—did he ever—“

You couldn’t stand the idea of sex with Jason without a condom, it was never a consideration or a question—it was the rule.

Another small head shake, Eddie’s grin grows wider—he’s unashamed and cocky as he hands roam his cock, tugging leisurely, he notices your gaze pulling to his hands—and it’s been so long, you just can’t help yourself.

“You want it?” Eddie asks teasingly, his free hand coming down to run through your folds, “You think you deserve it?”

The real answer is no, but you nod your head anyways, your hand coming up to yank at the bottom of his shirt, pulling him forward, cock nudging the top of your cunt lightly.

“Don’t go quiet on me now,” He chided, rubbing the leaking tip of his cock down the seam of your cunt, his breath slightly labored as he leans over you, twisting the thin cotton of your shirt in his hands, using it as leverage to pull you against him, his hips rocking gently, “do you, sweetheart?”

You gasp softly, your grip on his shirt tighter, the holds on each other like a vice, using one another as anchors, keeping yourself grounded in the moment. “Look at you,” He nods toward your soaked cunt, his dick glistening from your wetness, “—she missed me, didn’t she?”

You nod fervently, “Now answer my question,” Eddie says again, voice low and riddled with a timber that has you clenching around nothing, “do you deserve it?”

“No,” You say honestly, pathetically, but you still lift your hips up higher, forcing him to slip into you momentarily, his hips rocking away in response, “—I don’t, Eddie.”

“That’s right,” He nods, another soft tug at the shirt twisted in his hands and you rock against him once more, “—but I’m feeling generous.”

And he slips in slowly, without warning, your mouth open on a soundless whine as he stretches you open, his face drawn up in concentration. “Fuck—“ He groans, the hand that isn’t holding onto your shirt settles at your side, his thumb pressing against the outline of your hipbone as you breath, adjusting to him—he was bigger than Jason, more confident, and you felt it immediately, “—feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah—yes,” You nod, letting out a soft moan at his gentle thrust, his eyes never leaving your face, half lidded and dark—his eye contact drove you wild, something you’ve never felt before him, he fed off of the connection, wanting to watch you fall apart underneath him, but you were selfish and couldn’t help watching either, “take care of me, Eddie—please?”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” He says mockingly, a few more forceful thrusts that had Jason’s bed rocking against the wall, you couldn’t be bothered to care, too caught up in the moment. “—god, it’s been weeks, months since—“

“Since we’ve been together, yeah—I know,” You didn’t want to relive that pain, not with him deep inside you right now. “Let’s not talk about it.”

Eddie’s chuckle dies out on a groan as your cunt clenches around him, already over sensitive from your orgasm a few minutes ago, “I was trying to say since I’ve had sex.” He admits and you can’t help but look shocked.

“You—you haven’t—oh,” You gasp, a sharp snap of his hips has you grasping the sheets, untucking the nicely made bed, “—you really haven’t had—“

Eddie shakes his head lazily, fucking into you at a steady rhythm now, the mix of your moans overpowering whatever music was playing downstairs and if anyone was to turn it down, they’d surely here what was happening several feet above them. 

“He doesn’t like you—like this, does he?” Eddie asks harshly, his gaze heated and powerful, his hand loosening from your shirt to slip under your thighs, lifting them up at an angle that has you whining loudly, his cock slipping out of you momentarily before sliding back in roughly, “—can’t even look at you, it’s a fucking shame.”

You nod dumbly, agreeing with whatever he had to say. “He only ever—fuck, he only ever wanted me on my hands and—my, my knees,” You struggle to say, Eddie’s hands squeezing at your thighs relentlessly, pulling you wide and open, his gaze locked on the space where you two were connected, watching himself disappear again and again, mumbling soft, sweet praises that had you stomach clenching with pleasure, “—s’not like this, never like this.”

Eddie’s so lost in his own pleasure that he doesn’t respond, mouth hung open slightly as he moved against you, his soft, pink lips and deep contrast from his flushed face, the sweat of his face making his bangs stick to his forehead, he wouldn’t even remember his name if you asked him. 

“Eddie,” You say softly, broken on a gasp as he finally looks at you, his eyes there, but distant, “—I can take over.”

“Fuck, please—“ He sighs, flipping you both over without much problem, your hips locking around his own instinctively—the pace you set is overwhelming and Eddie moans out—if they didn’t know what was going on before, they surely did now. You couldn’t be bothered to care, though. 

“Wanna see your tits,” Eddie confesses, fumbling with the bottom of your shirt, “—please, baby.”

It’s a momentary slip, but neither of you address it. You slip the shirt over your head quickly, tossing it off to the side as Eddie leans up, his mouth latching over your breast without hesitation, sucking gently at the flesh, his other hand blindly wrapping around your neck, not squeezing, but resting.

You lean into it, a silent agreement to what he was asking, rocking your hips desperately against his cock, a feeble sound of acknowledgement slipping from your mouth, “Uh huh,” You answer, his face pulling away to look at you, “it’s okay.”

His hand tightens slightly, the pressure another added sensation. Eddie aids in the harsh bounce of your hips, ass slapping loudly against his thighs as he forces back a plethora of moans, trying to save you both some decency when you find the courage to walk downstairs. 

“What did I tell you?” He says harshly, neck angling up as he shifts his hand, “That night—when you broke up with me—say it.”

“Never—never would find someone,” You gasp suddenly, the hand not wrapped around your throat coming to work against your clit, his movements quick and deliberate, “—that fucks me like—fuck, like you do—no one takes care of me like you do.”

“Shit—and I was right, wasn’t I?” The fact that he even has the nerve to be so bold at a moment like this is pushing you over the edge, the feeling, the sensations, the anger in his voice—it was all the built up tension Eddie had held back finally breaking free, and you couldn’t take it.

“Yes,” You whine, movements slowing against him as you came, your hands bracing against his chest as you rode out the orgasm, his own hands struggling to latch onto your thighs, the precipice of his own release near, struggling to focus on your words, “—there’s no one, Eddie—fuck, no one like you.”

“Say my name like that again,” He pleads through gritted teeth, “want him to hear you say my name.”

“Eddie.” You say on a sigh, his eyes falling shut as his thighs tense, his movements erratic, sloppy—

“Louder,” He begs, falling back against the ruined bed, pillows and blankets askew, “fuck—say it louder.”

“Eddie,” You moan loudly, mostly out of performances but it’s also just felt so fucking good having him inside you again, moaning out his name with no shame, “—fuck, Eddie!”

“Shit,” He curses, “Move—sweetheart, please.”

He’s there, right there—but you can’t be bothered to care.

“Want you to come inside me, Eddie.” You tell him softly, “Please?” 

And if wasn’t the sound of your voice that did him in, it was the faint pout on your face as you sunk down for the last time, his cock spilling inside you, groaning loudly through his orgasm, cursing at the sheer force that it hits him with, “—that was—fuck—“ He breathes out, his shirt sticking to his chest with sweat, “—Jesus Christ.”

Your face pulls up in a smile, watching Eddie process everything, his hands squeezing at the flesh of your thighs gently, comfortingly. It takes him a few minutes, but eventually he comes back down, staring at you with a look that makes you feel vulnerable. 

“That was so much better than break up sex,” He laughs tiredly, tugging at your arm until you fall against him, hands braced on either side of his head, “—can I kiss you?”

You nod slowly, his hands lifting your hips to pull himself out of you, but the kiss soothes the loss, warm touches traveling up your spine as he slips his tongue past your lips, kissing you so full it’s overwhelming—the kind of fullness that came with love and history and emotion, you knew you weren’t over Eddie, and he wasn’t over you. 

“How are we supposed to walk back downstairs and act normal?” You ask with a lilt, face turning a soft shade of pink at the idea that everyone would know the second they laid eyes on you.

Eddie sits up, bringing you with him—“You should probably clean up first,” He points out knowingly, “and I need my rings.”

“Shit—oh, shit,” You completely forget, so caught up in everything, Eddie helps you off of his lap, throwing your clothes as you run through the bathroom entryway, disappearing for a moment while he dressed, “—can you fix the bed?” Your voice carries, the distant sound as you rustle around, grabbing Eddie’s rings.

“Fuck him,” Eddie scoffs lightly, mocking the offended look on his face as you peer around the door, rings clasped in your hand, “—seriously, fuck him.”

You shake your head with amusement, handing him his jewelry, watching him shove them into the pocket of his jeans.

“You should have thought about that before we fucked in his bed, sweetheart.” And you hated him for being right. “—let me drive you home.”

“Fine,” You sigh, “—but this does not mean we’re back together, Eddie. I still have to break up with him.”

Eddie laughs softly, hand reaching forward to tip your chin up, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip, “I never said anything about getting back together, sweetheart—but if that’s really what you want—“

You shake your head gently, “We can figure it out—I don’t expect anything after how I broke up with you.”

Eddie smiles, pulling your chin up high, his lips barely grazing against your own, “That isn’t gonna stop me from fucking you, though—someone’s gotta take care of you.”

And it didn’t sound bad at all—everything was complicated, you didn’t know how you could make things work after breaking up with Eddie the first time, but you were willing to give it time; figure things out. 

“Now, you’re gonna go look Jason in the eye,” Eddie waits for your nod of understanding, “and break his heart.” 

His devilish smile was enough to make you do anything if he asked.

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Light Yagami from Death Note vs Edelgard von Hresvelg from Fire Emblem: Three Houses

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. please be normal in the notes, i will not hesitate to block if you harass people)

Propaganda under the cut, may contain spoilers:

Light Yagami:

LOVE: - "He does some messed up things but have you considered: fucked up protagonists rock :)" HATE: - "this man makes me sick. ive genuinely had manic episodes over hating him. i have trauma from his existence in general. not even because of the murder. because hes a sexist cheater :(" - "My cousin and I frequently debate this. I think despite his 'intentions' he's ultimately a despicable character who cares for nobody but himself. She disagrees and says that he is just trying to do the right thing and making a difference in the world (she still thinks his actions are wrong, but she doesn't think he himself is despicable)" BOTH: - "I mean cmon man"

Edelgard Von Hresvelg:

LOVE: "People either claim she's the hero or the irredeemable villain with no in between. She's also my lovely wife who has never done anything wrong in her life." "I never even finished her route and remember nothing of what happens in that game but I DO remember the absolute warzone the fandom turned into because of her. She staged a coup and overthrew the head of the government/church and I think that's pretty cool of her. "But she committed war crimes!" God forbid women do anything." "I lied in the previous question. I don't hate her or love her in fact I have never even played this game. But I keep finding people making up Discourse™ featuring wild accusations of bigotry towards both Edelgard fans and Edelgard haters so I feel that she belongs here. (Also my friend hates her. but HER friend loves Edelgard. So even in my small social circle there is a clear polarization.)" "ok I don't have any solid propaganda because my opinion of her is more positive-neutral, but. she fits the spirit of this poll. trust me." "[three houses spoilers] Yes she started a war but it was the only apparent way to break the chokehold the church had over everyone in Fodlan. Also she’s the only lord you can gay marry so I’m hopelessly biased" "every time i go into the tag its either "edelgard is perfect no notes!!" or "edelgard is literally a fascist!!!". ive never seen someone with a neutral opinion of her. i yearn for battle." "I know very little about her to be quite honest! But good god. As a fire emblem fan for the GBA and engage. I have NEVER seen such a decisive character like Edelgard. Jesus Christ. I still find stuff in those tags. What the hell!!!" "I don’t even go to Fire Emblem but even I know that Edelgard has never done anything wrong, ever, in her entire life, and that if she did any war crimes they were a SUPER effective use of girl power. source: I am a lesbian. (realtalk I genuinely love a noble-minded extremist revolutionary and think Edelgard is a great character, so it’s kind of a shame that opinion on her seems to simply split down the line of “whether the person wants to kiss Edelgard or Dimitri more.”)"

HATE: "So on the one hand, she's fully willing to kill and burn and murder her way to a "better future" at the expense of the present, but on the other hand she's pretty cool and #girlboss. She's also a canon gay romance option, but idk if that makes her more or less problematic." "I just. I understand why people like her. I really do. And I don't have anything new to say for why I dislike her. Edelgard fans and stans have heard everything. She has great points and motivation, but her methods are wrong. She hitches her ideals to the first good opportunity and never reconsiders her allegiance when things go off the rails. She hates the church for "lying to people" and proceeds to lie to her own populace herself in her own route. She gives Claude an opportunity to live because she knows he believes in her goals. But Dimitri and his Kingdom are too beholden to the church to ever be offered such mercy. She herself acknowledges that the change she wants to see is more quickly enacted through war than subtle and slow societal change. She recognizes the human toll of her actions, but she justifies it through flowery language and an insistence that the change needs to happen now or it never will. I honestly find her so interesting, and I agree with a lot of her thoughts about the need for societal change in the world of FE:3H. But people latched onto her and propped her up as someone who can do no wrong. And that just never sat right with me. I just think she’s a hypocrite who got put in front of a shiny means to her end and was immediately blind to every other opportunity around her." BOTH: - "I dont even play fire emblem but I cant escape people not shutting up about how much they love or hate her" - "You said there were no hate answers for her...and I don't really hate her so it wouldn't be right but I wanted to balance things out some. She's the perfect storm of a character who sounds right and progressive and has a route all to herself that doesn't contradict that...but once you play other routes, it becomes clear she's kind of. full of misinformation. And attacking people who don't deserve it. Also a LOT of the divisiveness I'm willing to blame on the writers rather than her, for having her both be Evil Tyrant we NEED to take down and Sad Uwu Baby who just wants to eat cake and laze around and loves You the Player SO MUCH."

[theromanticrationalist]

Catching up on Young Sheldon. . .

I can't believe Young Sheldon is almost over and Sheldon shall be leaving us for good! 😩 I just hope this finale with George's death and us seeing Sheldon and Amy as an "old married couple" will be worth all this pain!! I am hyping myself up for feeling A WHOLE LOT OF FEELZ. I AM NOT READY.

I was already getting pretty emotional in the A Fancy Article and A Scholarship for a Baby episode. Firstly my heart was aching for my poor baby who was under so much stress to choose which school he would be attending! I was feeling his distress at feeling pressure from all sides (especially since in retrospect we know the decision was genuinely a major life crossroads for him), and I was hating how everyone was manipulating him! It always upsets me a lot when people take advantage of Sheldon because of his naiveté or how his idiosyncrasies make him an easy target. I can definitely relate to some of that, having a similar naiveté as Sheldon and inability to read social behaviors, particularly of those closest to me (weirdly). I think I have gotten better, but mainly I feel like I've just gotten more insecure and socially awkward, but oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

At any rate, I get so upset seeing Sheldon having to struggle with things in a way most people do not and having literally no one understand or acknowledge what he is going through. It might not be scenarios that seem important or vexing for others, but they genuinely and sincerely are for Sheldon, and that is valid. So many people think Sheldon is egotistical, and he definitely can be self-focused and arrogant many times, but come on! This boy is his only advocate! "Well, no one cares that you care," Missy said to Sheldon in episode 10. "I'm someone. And I care that I care. And I care that I care that I care!" To me pretty much sums him up perfectly! Sheldon isn't egotistical, he just knows how to self-advocate (which is actually very difficult for a lot of people) in a world that is difficult for him to navigate! Anyway, thankfully though, my heart was warmed by Dr. Linkletter and Sturgis finally coming around, turning against the awful and shameless President Hagemeyer, and doing right by our Sheldon. Dr. Linkletter loves the annoying little string bean after all! (Like anyone seriously couldn't!) I was very moved by their encouragement of Sheldon, that he had outgrown them, surpassed them, and was going to do great things in theoretical physics and advance science in ways that they never could! It was very touching. My little baby bean is all grown up, and off to destroy maths! 😭 But of course. . . that reveal of Sheldon choosing MIT! 😂😂😂 OMG! That was TOO PERFECT. I was DYING. I absolutely LOVED that twist! Sheldon Cooper is such a stink'in brat! This WHOLE time he was giving Howard (and others) a hard time about MIT, acting like it was a crap institution and that every other university is so far above it - and the only reason he himself did not go there was because of the weather! It was literally HIS FIRST CHOICE. OMG SHELDON LEE COOPER!! 🤣🤣🤣 And I loved how Sheldon Prime was just like "Wait for it. . ." like it was all self-evident his being justified in dissing MIT in the end. It is SO ON BRAND for Sheldon I couldn't take it! Probably the best story twist of this season!

It also made me want to scream because of George travelling with Sheldon to see him off on this new life adventure, and saying how proud he was of him. It is a beautiful parallel to earlier in Season 3 when George took Sheldon to visit Caltech to listen to a lecture by Stephen Hawking, and saying he believed Sheldon would fit right in there. To know that this is probably going to be the last moment that Sheldon and his father have together, and how fitting it should be his father to be the one to see him off, makes me just want to sob my heart out! UUUUUUUUUGH. 😭😭😭 Sheldon and his daddy! THIS ISN'T FAIR!! 😫😫😫😩😩😩💔💔💔 Final random thoughts: - I guess Sturgis and Connie aren't going to get back together. I'm really bummed about that. They were so perfect! No offense to Dale, but Sturgis is kind of the best. IT SHOULD BE STURGIS AND CECE HAVING CUTE GRANDPA AND GRAND BABY MOMENTS TOGETHER! - I go back and forth between being excited for the Georgie and Mandy's first marriage show, to being absolutely devastated that not only will Sheldon not be in it but neither will Missy! - to thinking it might actually be pretty cute. Ugh. I guess I will watch it, but I really don't know how they are going to make a whole show on the concept. I guess we will see! - I am noticing that Sheldon's "brain itch" and focus on organizing and optimizing spaces is developing right when the most change is happening in his family and within himself (puberty). Of course he was always this way, but he didn't used to care about the state of things outside of his own room or his own bubble, e.g. school/dorm/his computer. Now he is trying to order things beyond his immediate needs, and I think that is interesting! These are coping mechanisms and ways he can make himself feel secure and in control. Once again no one around him is taking note of this!!

Look at him! Look at this baby becoming a lawyer in 24 hours to help out his MeeMaw! My heart genuinely broke when Sheldon looked at his MeeMaw with the purest, most guileless, baby kitten eyes saying he didn't want to see her go to jail. DUDE. If I were Connie, I would shape up right then and there!

My Favorite Sheldon Cooper Quotes: Sheldon: "I finished organizing the religious items! I separated them by New Testament hokum, Old Testament hokum, and general nonsense!" Mary: "Also Sheldon couldn't sleep knowing that the room was only half-organized." Sheldon: "It's true! It was like my brain was itchy and I couldn't scratch it! Very irritating!" Mary: "It was. Very." Connie: "Well, I thank you both, but I should be doing this myself." Mary: "Yes, you should, but we are already here." Sheldon: "Great! I'm going to start with the books! I invented my own Dewey Decimal System, but instead of decimals I use fractions!" (The utter pure joy Sheldon gets from organizing things and inventing his own ways of doing it is the most precious thing. Be your truest self, baby!!" Sheldon Prime: "I'm not proud of this, but that night I relieved myself in Billy Spark's chicken coop. Until my wife, those hens were the only females I exposed myself to. . .I guess I could have left that part out. Oh well." (Me screaming and hollering and throwing popcorn at my screen!!)

[beatcroc]

How do you feel about Theodore Noisevelt? As someone with ADHD I can feel it oozinf out of him so bad I love him so much

noise is the one guy i've kept intentionally 1-dimensional/ comic relief because i simply enjoy tormenting him too much and if i gave him any real depth i'd start feeling bad about it shjsdjsdf. also i dont even TRY to reconcile the unmasked 'just some guy' Theodore J. with noise's regular look because theres just way too much mental dissonance there. hes not allowed to be normal like that theodore j. isnt real he cant hurt me

i started trying to come at this one like 3 different ways and it turns out i have a lot of trouble organizing my thoughts about noise too. he sucks and i hate him. by which i mean hes great and i love him. I think he's one of the best examples of how to make a character legitimately fun and enjoyable despite being a horrible little shitlord with zero redeeming qualities. You just gotta 1: keep it light, 2:CRUCIALLY: make him funny, and 3: as a potent extra bonus in noise's case specifically, make him a huge fucking loser who is only /almost/ able to fully convince you of the contrary.

Point 1 is like 90% just because this game is funny cartoons and leans hard into that, and noise is like, the MOST cartoons out of everyone. like when i say unmasked noise haunts me it's because he does not feel like he should be A Guy. he is a Cartoon Entity. but seeing as pizza tower can also pull a surprising amount of gravitas when it wants to, that last 10% is really just that like. Noise isn't really actively mean? He is an absolute hellion but he's not Mean. More than anything he just wants to get a rise out of people, and though this often entails being destructive, none of his bastardry really does much lasting or large-scale damage [compared to, perhaps, lets say, pizzahead]

2 wraps pack into both other points; he's funny both because it's cartoons, and because he's a huge loser. A tangential point to both of those that fits here though is that he's fucking like pathologically obsessed with peppino. Which is really par the course for like half the characters in this game, and i do think at least half the reason he targets peppino so much is just that peppino is Incredibly Easy to get a big reaction out of, but it also seems like there's more to it that just that? and for noise specifically there's like zero logical reason for it??? He is, in nearly all walks of life, far better off than peppino, and yet. Here he is. Seemingly quite jealous and insistent on tormenting [and perhaps even imitating?] this guy who is realistically quite far beneath him. And like. Why. Don't you have better things to be doing mr. TV star? You literally have better things to be doing but this is what you're dedicating yourself to you fucking little weirdo. And it's not even like a genuine hatred! It's a bit! They're still like lunch buddies off-camera or whatever! I forgot where I was going with this im moving on

Point 3 is just. He doesn't have any fucking friends? You can kinda get the vibe of this normally but getting his campaign REALLY drives home how much emptier all his shtick is than peppino's. And this would potentially be kinda sad if not for the fact that 1. He doesn't care at all and 2. It is his own damn fault. for being such a such a petty little gloryhound. like for the most part the cast of this game is pretty befriend-able but noise is only particularly interested in being the center of attention at all times; and he will lie, cheat, and kill to make sure it stays that way. and again hes allowed to do this because its funny cartoons. and also because no one cares. its just like yeah, that's noise, he's our local bastard, whatever. he puts on so much bravado and no one is phased by it they all know he is full of shit. he never drops the act because GOD FORBID he not be the coolest and best at everything forever and everybody else just kinda lets him believe it and/or let him believe he has them fooled. there's also the occasional peeks that he hates but then like BRO WHY ARE YOU DOING IT???? YOU CAN STOP. NOBODY WOULD MIND!! IVE SEEN YOU HAVING CASUAL LUNCH WITH PEPPINO!!!! anyway. i think thats pretty much everything i wanted to say.

tldr: thank you funny cartoons

[bidokja]

ok i gotta ask. what is sclasses. are you willing to please give me a link and also possibly a pitch to sclasses. webtoon or novel first?

OH BOY, so "sclasses" is my tag for "The S-Classes That I Raised" (AKA "My S-Ranks" and "My S-Class Hunters"). It's a KRN webnovel with a manhwa adaption.

You can find the novel being currently translated by SFS Translations and the manhwa being officially translated on Webtoon. There's also a fan translation being done by Asurascans that is much farther ahead of the official manhwa TL.

For an introductory premise/summary:

Dungeons. Monsters. Awakened. A game-like System to package it all in. It seems straightforward enough, but a more troubling truth lies beneath the surface. With his younger brother's blood still staining his clothes, Han Yoojin obtains a means to turn back time. He siezes the opportunity, hoping to get a fresh start. Live a cleaner, less chaotic life. Unfortunately, his choice does quite the opposite, and he becomes the centerpiece of the chaos to come. Slowly but surely, the packaging is ripped away.

Things like my personal pitch, my love for Yoo Myeongwoo, and my novel vs manhwa recommendations are below the cut.

For my personal pitch, honestly...just being able to peek into Yoojin's thoughts is so worth it. He is the funniest motherfucker unlimited. No contest. The writing balances this quite well, too. I like to approach sclasses with the mindset that its most major sub-genre is "comedy", but it still knows when to take itself seriously.

Also, the approach the series takes with the tropes of dungeons, systems, and regression is refreshingly different from other series. It manages to give explanations that don't detract from the fantasy, but rather add to the growing horror. The pacing is great, with stakes being raised and revealed at just the right times. As for characters, literally everyone is interesting. Everyone. They're all batshit in different ways and have ZERO shame about it. I love to study them under the microscope in my brain. Most of them are also very compelling (even the ones you hate).

AND. MOST IMPORTANTLY. YOO MYEONGWOO EXISTS. LOOK AT HIM. MI POBRECITO MIAU MIAU. MY BABYGIRL.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk <3

P.S. - To answer your last question, I recommend the novel first, but the manhwa doesn't fall far behind.

I've already talked a bit about what parts of the writing I like above. The novel itself goes into a bit more depth, and has more gradual and fluid connections between events. It also shows WAY more of Yoojin's inner ranting and raving, which - as I've said - is genuinely such a huge part of the S-Classes expereince for me.

That being said, the manhwa is really good. Firstly, the art is amazing. I can't say it clears my bar for diversity (but no manhwa has done that so far so...y'know), but it's so much less stiff and more vibrant than a lot of studio work I've seen churned out lately so kudos there for sure. I also think that it manages to nail the impact of a few scenes even better than the novel does, and so far the edits to the pacing are well done to fit the more limited room of a comic medium without skipping important info and while still conveying the intended progression for the plot and characters. Which, maybe all these seem like basic things, but is something SO many adaptions drop the ball on.

[messymindofmine]

So this is the only time I'm gonna explicitly talk about the baby plotline bc it sickens me to my core and I see red if I even think about it.

1) To start with, there was no narrative reason for this. While I have my criticisms of Carmen, using her as a baby machine for Johnny's arc is just plain wrong. I know that the show is set in 2019 and was filmed before s4 even released so I won't hold them to what's happening in the US right now but it still doesn't make this plotline any better bc it's still using Carmen as a vehicle for Johnny's arc. Literally all we were told this season (told mind you not shown the way good writing is supposed to do) is how much better Johnny is now and how he won't repeat his mistakes. Even if it could've been used to highlight just how flawed Johnny and Carmen's relationship is, that could still have been done without this plotline. Like they could've shown Carmen struggling after Miguel comes back from Mexico. Or her interacting with Robby. It's pretty clear that he's not included in her "happy family" so they could show how that would affect her relationship with Johnny now that Robby is actually here and this could spur Johnny on to actually choose once and for all.

2) Also, for all that they seem obsessed with showing how much Johnny has changed this season, he very clearly hasn't as far as Robby is concerned. And that should be where the focus is. All this talk this season about Johnny getting a second chance when Johnny has already had a second chance, he's had a 100 chances actually, to be a better father...with Robby. All this storyline has done is make it impossible for them to have a genuine, natural reconciliation at any point. Because Johnny is repeating his mistakes. He's still choosing everyone and everything else over Robby. He's still ignoring Robby's feelings in favor of his own.

3) This is what really gets me. There is no narrative reason for this plotline. Even without it, just about everything that happened could've still happened. Hell even Robby's arc (since the writers seem hell bent on making him suffer) would've been the same. Johnny would still have forced a reconciliation between Robby and Miguel, Robby would still feel out of place in Johnny's life and with the Diazs and he would've still felt the need to create this false self that he created this season to fit in. Even that horrible apartment fight would've taken place the exact same way with the same end, just without the revelation. Even Carmen's little dream scenario (you know the one that Robby is conspicuously absent from) could still have happened, just in a slightly different way.

What really sucks is that there doesn't seem to be a way out of that plotline that isn't demeaning, that doesn't cause even more issues between Robby, Johnny and Miguel, that wouldn't cause more pain for Robby and that wouldn't be yet another reason for fans (since they go out of their way to find bullshit reasons anyway) to turn it around on Robby and use it to hate on him even more.

The writers well and truly shot themselves in the foot with this storyline and I can't think of a way that fix the damage this storyline has done. Not without just getting rid of it and acting like it never happened

[just-some-guy-at-shiz]

Okay, so here’s a scene: Nessa’s just gained power and started restricting rights, and Boq is bitter. There’s a bit where she keeps asking him to fetch her things out of this one particular cabinet, until eventually he gets fed up. Cue the sounds of furious hammering from another room. Nessa rolls in to see Boq standing hands-on-hips beside the cabinet, which has been ripped off the wall and sloppily nailed on farther down the wall, within Nessa’s reach. It is lopsided. One corner sticks out farther than the others, another corner is cracked, and bent nails stick out everywhere. There are patches of wallpaper missing where the cabinet used to be. This is purely an act of spite. But Nessa is thrilled, because now she can do this one thing without him.

Boq is genuinely puzzled that she’s thrilled. He kind of assumed she liked people to do things for her, because who wouldn’t, right? Didn’t really occur to see it from her point of view, because he’s too self-absorbed and oblivious for that. He figured she just had mean fun running him around on tasks 24/7. But he starts to realize that she really would rather be self-sufficient if she could, and he realizes how much the world she lives in is not disability-friendly.

Yes she’s the governor, so she definitely has the power to change things, but it doesn’t occur to her to do that, because there have never been accomodations that weren’t made special for her. She needs to be helped by Elphaba while at school because there are literally no ramps on the entire campus. Just stairs. Oz doesn’t seem to have any kind of accessibility standards for any of its institutions. Nessa doesn’t try to adjust everyday aspects of her life to fit her better because she never realized that was an option, because no one ever treated it as one. For her entire life, everyone just assumed she couldn’t do things for herself. So she believed that about herself as well.

But Boq doesn’t believe it. …Because he wants her to stop needing him. He’s very annoyed that he’s stuck with her, because in his eyes it would be very easy for her to be without him. Until the cabinet thing where he sees her excitement and realizes that it’s really not easy. So it becomes his one goal in life to fix everything standing in the way of Nessa being self-sufficient.

Out of spite.

Why is Nessa’s (one-story) home the only building with ramps on the porch stairs? You’re the governor! Put ramps on every building, so you can go to all your meetings and stuff without me! You’re already tyrannical, so outlaw stairs altogether! Ramps or bust!

Also, it’s home renovation time! Everything moved within reach (because it all really should have been anyway, but when Nessa’s father was alive he and Elphaba would have probably have gotten everything for Nessa, and she’d just be resigned to her own inability). Add other home-renovation lifehacks for wheelchair users that I don’t know about because I don’t need them and it’s too 12:22 AM for me to bother looking them up!

And Oz has somekinda steampunk technology, right? Too many gears on the set pieces for there not to be, nevermind the dragon. What if we could put a motor on their chair? What if there could be useful harnesses for times she needs to be out of the chair? What if there were those chair-lifty-seat-things on the side of tall staircases?

Anyway. My point is, Boq starts making more small changes, hoping it’ll make some difference. Nessa worries when he’s gone all day, but he comes back exhausted from working on a rough, bumpy dirt path that was impossible to roll over, chopping up logs to cover the path in smooth wooden planks. He re-positions more shelves and cabinets, more neatly this time. He does a few other domestic things that I can’t think of off the top of my head. All out of selfish desperation, mind you, but with each of these changes, Nessa’s mood lifts, and she demands less of Boq, which makes him less moody, and they start to actually get along. And now that they’re communicating, they work together on this accessibility improvements stuff, because who knows better what Nessa needs than Nessa? Now that she’s seen how much of a difference can be made, she’s taking charge of it all for herself, because she can.

Nessa stops being bitter about what she still can’t do for herself, because now there’s so many more things she can. Boq stops being bitter about his whole situation, because Nessa’s starting to ease up on the whole tyrant thing, and it’s sorta endearing how excited she gets. Now that she spends less time gloomy and solemn (or short-tempered), he can see the way her eyes light up when she’s happy, and she smiles just as sweetly as that night at the ballroom…

The huge problem I can’t get past is that he still doesn’t love her. Because Boq is seemingly the only person who doesn’t think she’s helpless because she’s in a wheelchair, who believes in her self-sufficiency, Nessa loves him even more than she did before. And now that he’s growing to be on friendlier terms with her, Nessa would be even more convinced Boq loves her back, when really, he just doesn’t like-like her and that’s that. This might all be for naught. She might still get heartbroken and magic-spell him. But… What if walking, amazing as it would be, wouldn’t “change everything”? What if she already feels mostly self-sufficient? What if she’s no longer bitter about being dependent? Would that change anything?

I expanded this too far. The only important thing is the scene where Boq rips a cabinet off the wall and practically just duct-tapes it on again lower down, and then gets baffled that it apparently wasn’t recieved as an act of rebellion.

[bugsbenefit]

seriously if the character protagonist polls are showing me anything it's that half the people on here need to seriously rewatch the show. even the fact that Max just barely pulls ahead of Robin after we just got the Max main girl season is baffling. i love Robin but she's not a primary protagonist. she's supporting cast and she's great at it

but Mike and Steve is just... oh wow. oh wow. maybe i really am just hatergirl but the way fandom morphed Steve into this weird super interesting character that all the other characters love and that has a tragic backstory and his own romance story and so on is just so annoying to me

i genuinely feel like people don't get Steve anymore. because his whole point as a character is being the straight man. (literally tbh lmao) he's the only one who doesn't fit the outcast trope because him being an ex bully/popular kid turned best friends with the town lesbian and older brother figure of a random dnd nerd is the whole joke. and it's GOOD. i love Steve in canon. he's a really funny character

so the fanon version of him genuinely makes me mad because it erases all the parts of his character that are actually interesting and is essentially just an oc at this point, let's be real

which i would have no problem with in and of itself. the whole point of fandom is to pick your obscure blorbos and to obsess over them. but with Steve it's reached a point where people seem to have genuinely convinced themselves his fanon version is canon. which leads to people who don't care about the show at all butting in on random analysis that "get's Steve wrong" or apparently also making themselves believe that he's somehow a better protagonist than the og protagonist of the whole show... okay

ST is filled with so many cool and personality/lore rich characters. Mike, Will, Max, Lucas, etc. the story has always circled around the kids and their struggles. so to look past all these super fleshed out 3D characters and resort to picking the one normal guy everyone likes and inventing a whole new life story to make him more interesting instead of picking one of the already interesting characters? just grates my gears

[tailsrevane]

[movie review] avatar: the way of water (2022)

“the way of water has no beginning and no end. our hearts beat in the womb of the world. water connects all things, life to death, darkness to light.”

pretty bold words from a movie that asks me to not pee for 3 hours & 15 minutes but also asks me to buy & drink a big soda in a ridiculous souvenir cup.

so, yeah. i’ve now seen this in both dolby & imax, and while i think imax was the better experience of the two, i can confirm that (as is usually the case in a james cameron venture) there just isn’t a bad way to see this movie. it’s funny, because most of the interesting things i can think of to say about it are criticisms but overall i definitely enjoyed it?

look, at a base level, the reason i liked this and i’m probably going to like all of the hopefully dozens of sequels this series keeps churning out is that the avatar franchise has become one of the few remaining standard bearers for high-effort filmmaking in blockbuster movies. like, basically every visual you see in this movie was probably created in a computer, but it does not look like it? at all? and i’ve said it before but i’ll say it again, it’s pretty clear that this is attributable to the absolute obsession that james cameron has for making movies look the way he wants them to look, and the fact that he seems to bring other people with that same obsession along for the ride.

the things that were problematic about the first movie (and the expanded universe surrounding it) are still problematic, plus a few new problems that they decided to add on top just so we don’t get bored, but before i start really digging into those things i just want to pause and say that i really miss when this kind of approach in blockbuster filmmaking was… not the norm, exactly, but definitely not as uncommon as it is now? so yeah, at the end of the day if i’m going to be watching some shooty scifi bullshit, i’d love for it to keep looking this good and having this much of an imaginative (but also extremely thoroughly well-thought-out) approach to the creation of a genuinely alien world. because the real star of these movies isn’t jake, and it isn’t neytiri, and it isn’t their kids. it’s pandora.

the movie seems to understand this, too, because yeah we start with jake narrating but it’s over this fucking wonderful shot of the camera just rapidly zooming down to the surface of pandora and then through the trees, and just sort of bludgeoning you with the fact that yeah, we’re back. and what i’ve kind of been dancing around is the fact that it’s pretty clear that creating pandora & bringing it to life was a labor of love for everyone involved, and that’s something that’s been obvious to me since the first movie, and i think it’s why so many people found pandora so achingly beautiful. returning there weirdly feels a little like returning home, or at least returning somewhere you really like being. it carries an actual emotional weight with it.

and, again, this opening narration is trying to very quickly usher us through the last 15 years or so of the sullys’ life but the visuals of these little vignettes are always emphasizing how much the forests of pandora are a starring player in these experiences.

honestly these opening scenes are asking you for a lot, because the status quo has changed quite a bit, and they’re about to hit you with the whole weird clone soldier thing? which still to this day doesn’t really make a lot of logical sense to me, but i’m willing to roll with it because such an entertaining movie is wrung out of it. and also because it fits in great with the thematic thrust of these movies, that the sky people are trying to steal pandora out from under the na’vi, so the idea of them literally appropriating na’vi bodies and shoving their gross human capitalist/military brains in there is just viscerally horrifying.

(... which makes it pretty fucking awkward that one of my biggest problems with this movie/franchise is that it appropriates & profits off of gross tons of indigenous culture…)

yeah okay let’s go ahead & pivot.

the white savior stuff is less visually apparent here because jake spends the whole movie as a na’vi, so that’s nice & i do drastically prefer things this way, but it’s still totally there? but on top of that jake is just the fucking worst father in this? like, neytiri calls him out exactly once for treating his family like a squad he’s the commanding officer of instead of a family? but he just proceeds to continue doing this for the whole rest of the movie and it’s never again a source of conflict? and i’m sorry, that’s not just bad writing, it’s fucking abusive?

in the first movie jake at least realizes he’s kind of a piece of shit and gets his ass kicked constantly for it. this movie acts like he’s just a big damn hero whose only flaw is that he tries to hide & protect his family (the objectively correct thing to do) instead of singlehandedly defeating the sky people. and i just. cannot.

i want to print out flyers about neytiri & staple them to telephone poles like she’s a lost cat, because where the fuck was she in this movie? she’s barely in it, and the one actually kind of big thing she does in the movie (threaten spider’s life to save her get blue!quatritch to release her daughter) is terrible? i just. ugh.

this is mirrored by the fact that when we see jake & neytiri with the omatikaya we barely hear from mo’at, who is one of the fucking best characters in the first movie and is even more awesome in some of the expanded universe stuff so i had a lot of high hopes that we were gonna get to see more of her, but nah, she basically just patches up some wounded and apparently has zero opinions about jake & neytiri leaving. (i mean, obviously that’s not the case, my point is that we don’t hear from her about it at fucking all.)

for that matter, we don’t see jake & neytiri interacting with the omatikaya at all really? we literally just see the clan functioning as a resistance cell against the returning rda. it’s hard to feel the sense of loss that you should feel when they leave because you never get to see them just… being the people? you’re asked to feel the loss exclusively through neytiri getting mad about it for exactly thirty seconds, which is treated dismissively by jake, which by the way is also an awful character moment for him. just. yuck.

i also don’t feel like i got to know the metkayina well enough? i know this movie is a lot more plot-heavy than the first movie, but it just feels like there’s an entire dimension missing this time, and i’m sad about it.

i know i’m starting to sound like i hated this movie, and i didn’t, for all the reasons i stated earlier plus a few more that i’m about to pivot to, but i just need to be really clear that me enjoying this movie is not an endorsement of everything about it? like, i feel like this is less of a star trek situation where i’m like “this 90% aligns with my values but has some issues because sometimes the writers suck” and is more like when i used to like star wars and was like “this is an extremely well-designed universe that it’s fun to immerse myself in and the movies are damn entertaining even if i frequently don’t like the stories that are being told.”

(okay i have to go on a quick tangent here since i don’t talk about star wars much anymore to clarify what i mean. hilariously, the last jedi coming along and actually being a good movie with good things to say is what made it impossible for me to continue enjoying star wars when i realized it had never been that before and was never going to be that again, like, it actually “ruined” star wars for me, but not in the way most people mean when they say that? like it’s probably the only star wars movie i’d rewatch if you asked me to. and i used to rewatch all of them frequently, and write fanfiction & whatnot. i was one of those.)

like the first movie, the way of water is a deeply problematic movie with superficially anti-imperialist themes, but like… considering that the vast majority of tentpole blockbusters are imperialist propaganda with a very thin coat of paint over them, that’s clearly better, right?

like, i think we often do this thing where when something at least superficially aligns with our values we hold it to a higher standard, and i’m not about to lecture anyone (especially if they’re indigenous) if they do that with this movie, it certainly deserves it because wow does it ever not practice what it ineptly preaches, but i am going to say that for me personally i would prefer imperfectly anti-imperialist movies that are made this well over unabashedly pro-imperialist movies that were clearly filmed in empty rooms composed of green screens or that circular led thing that the mandalorian & star trek discovery popularized. (for the record, star trek discovery does a much better job with it, but it’s still pretty obvious at times.)

and the other reason i really enjoy this is because, as much as i’m starting to feel like i kind of genuinely hate jake (but i can still empathize with him and i think the lengths he goes to to throw his own life between the bad guys & his kids is genuinely heroic) and as much as i fucking hate the way neytiri is written in this movie, i fucking love their kids? this jumped out at me even more on rewatch when i was more familiar with the general shape of the movie. when i first saw it i loved lo’ak & kiri but i thought neteyam especially wasn’t characterized nearly as much? like, he was just the “good kid” to lo’ak’s “rebellious kid,” but the thing about cameron movies is that so much characterization happens in the margins and when i was able to pay more attention to the details the second time through is fucking loved & wanted to protecc neteyam?

but yeah, i totally get why we focus on lo’ak. he’s an extremely good boy and i’m super invested in his story going forward. (kiri also rules, but i feel like that’s more obvious.)

also like, this movie has na’vi bullying in it, so uh. yeah. that’s… nice. for me. (sorry not sorry.)

so, uh, yeah. at the end of the day you have a deeply problematic but wildly entertaining movie that is kind of the standard bearer of high-effort blockbuster filmmaking in an age dominated by “just film it in front of a greenscreen & redirect people to the disney+ series”? again i have no beef with anyone who cannot enjoy this movie because of its problematic elements. i’m not out here waving my embarrassing unironic avatar fandom like it’s something to be proud of, and i don’t think i’ll ever really be able to enjoy this franchise in an uncomplicated way, which could very well result in me burning out on it like i did star wars before it, but idk. for now i’m enjoying it. and for me at least, this movie had more than enough to enjoy about it to overcome the things that infuriated me about it.

a-rank

[docholligay]

I like Albert so much I think because I relate to him so deeply. The way he doesn’t look at Michael when he says anything of this, that it has to come out while you’re drinking and looking at the stars. And the way that he’s saying something as a matter of fact,  not necessarily for the sympathy, and so his general response is, “I mean, I did fine, so.” which is truthfully how I often think of things.

“Makes for a good story” is often my response to anyone reacting ton stuff, though many of my stories are somewhat more fun than being brought up in an orphanage, such as “The time I was pinned under a log jam and nearly drowned” or perennial favorite “It Happened to Me: Bit By A Rattlesnake” or the popular “Oh, remember when i feel through the floor of an abandoned house?” or not quite as well-regarded, “I was booked for assault and I would ABSOLUTELY do it again” and anything a little more emotionally spicy than those ain’t bar talk, but for all of it, funny or not, I have the basically the same idea as Albert here. I’m fine.

I think this is such a classically blue-collar way of looking at the world, and this is, for me, personally and individually, why I feel like I don’t fit into a lot of LGBT+ spaces because they’re very focused on this middle-class-but-would-never-admit-to-being-so, seven sisters educated, city sort of experience that’s all about trauma dumping* and processing.

It’s a very “keep it movin” sort of way at looking at the world, and it comes a lot of of historical realities about the way blue-collar people were forced to look at the world, and engage with it. Farmers cannot afford to pine. It just doesn’t go. Merchant marines can’t sit and parse out their feelings on a communication difference. My family was farmers on one side and sheep people on the other, you think anyone in my family sat around and processed? We, were like Albert. I know my great grandparents lost family when Germany plowed through Ukraine, but they literally never spoke of it except in like, three sentences, maybe, over the course of my life. I said I wouldn’t mind seeing it someday, and my great grandmother said, “Why? Miserable country. And no one there left.” OKAY THEN that was all we said on the issue.

And I’m not going to say it’s BETTER, though, like, obviously that is very much what I’m alluding to here, please know I can also read my own writing, but it is very very different, and if it’s the framework you grown up with, understanding that the world does not CARE about your tragic anime backstory, you engage with it differently. Albert has a genuinely shitty life story, and he gives it enough color to make it seem neat. I like that. I respect that. I understand that.

And before anyone goes, “well Michael is stuffy and British and has to be all stiff upper lip” not incorrect, but he also sure has spent a lot of time looking for and thinking about a girl who stared at him for ten seconds in the woods and I don’t think that’s an option for everyone. Moping is a kind of decadence, too. And I like Michael, I feel for him, but I think he WANTS to be Albert more than he’s capable of.

*This is actually what a lot of y’all mean when you say “trauma bonding.” Trauma bonding is a specific abusive framework that is not y’all’s capacity to overshare with each other and bond over both being miserable.

[unheavenlybody]

hi i ended up writing an entire essay while trying to vent so feel free to ignore: 

its frustrating that there's no way to talk candidly about mental health problems without the looming fear of forced institutionalization, at least in my case. people trying to force medication on you. wellness obsessed fitness people recommend you start doing yoga and “clean eating” and only using certified nontoxic products and adopting a more positive mindset and ~recognizing your inner magic~ or whatever even though no one asked (literally a dig at my sister LMAO). so much of it just seems self righteous and self congratulatory and devoid of any genuine compassion or understanding for people’s unique circumstances??? recognizing that a lot of life is just hard and miserable and sometimes its ok to just sit with that??

i hate the idea of some dude with a degree from whatever ivy at my school’s counseling department keeping a record of everything i say which can potentially be used against me even tho its supposed to be confidential. treating me like a fragile baby bird but also slicing our meetings in half and arriving late and leaving me to fend for myself after asking me to dig up buried trauma and then offering no support for the next two weeks other than “i understand, that must be hard.” recommending we look into a psychotherapist during our next meeting, which i cant even afford, and then not following through. repeatedly tiptoeing around the question of whether i have suicidal thoughts and if so how severe, like, my guy, i 100% wouldnt tell you that in a million years. even if it’s true.  

i'm caught between recognizing that a healthy diet and exercise and enriching hobbies and social connection are necessary parts of getting better, but people seem to conveniently forget that these aren’t equally accessible options for everyone. and even if i maintain all of these things, will it be enough to keep me here? i just don't understand the impulse to shame people for not trying “hard enough” when it’s so easy to neglect these things if you don’t have money, adequate resources, or emotional support. not everyone was born to be entirely self sufficient (is anyone really, lol?) but grindset wellness fuckers will have you convinced you’re just an undisciplined weak-willed piece of trash and simply need to become more like them. or at the very least get medicated and stop complaining. but can you prioritize a healthy organic diet if you barely have enough money to scrape by as it is, when understandably cheap fast foods are one of the only things that still bring you comfort that you can regularly afford? how can you safely exercise in a way that's both sustainable and enjoyable if you can't afford a gym membership or exercise equipment and live somewhere that neglects public parks or is highly polluted and congested? or if you have chronic pain or fatigue and can’t get treatment for it because your dumbass country doesnt think universal healthcare is a human right? you can’t even maintain certain hobbies and especially long term relationships unless you have money for outings and some means of reliable transportation (which in the US obviously means having a car). how can you get out of an abusive or hazardous living situation when the resources that do exist are often underfunded, discriminatory, or exploitative themselves? when you have no one else to depend on? everything is increasingly designed to strip you of any opportunity at having a happy fulfilling life and maybe some people are just less equipped to deal with this reality. maybe i am weak lol. or they see through the bullshit and can’t bring themselves to care anymore. 

like yeah i know that’s not a great mindset to have, and you should still try to find joy in life, but most days i can't help but feel that I am trying to get better by exercising or eating healthy or allowing myself to love things all for nothing. like maybe ive already been robbed of a healthy, happy life by circumstance and i could try to exhaust myself further by insisting things can and will get better when maybe realistically they won't in the way i want them to. i dont know how to end this i just wish it was easier to talk about with someone lol sorry for the essay byeeee

[eschatologicalblank]

Darkness

This is a post I made on another blog (here) a while ago; I thought I might as well stick it on here too.

A metaphor that crops up in the Bible quite a bit is that of light and darkness. Unfortunately for me, I genuinely like the darkness – not the metaphorical darkness, the actual, literal darkness – which has always made the metaphor a little confusing for me. I find very bright light – especially bright sunlight – uncomfortable, and the dark is by comparison comfy. And there’s a reason I’ve stuck with a photo of the starry design of my bedroom blind as a profile picture for so long – because I hate my face really like the stars.

Well, now I have moved Up NorthTM for my Master’s, my route back from evening services goes through a pitch-black forest and I suddenly have a newfound appreciation for those metaphors.

It is, as you can probably guess, really spooky. I have to observe basically every piece of advice I’ve ever read in a fantasy novel to convince my lizardbrain that I won’t be eaten by some monster out of folklore – no running, no stopping, no meeting the gaze of reflective eyes among the trees, no leaving the path, and absolutely no looking back. But the most important enabling factor is my phone’s torch. In fact, the other day I had to take a massive detour because my phone’s battery got low enough that it wouldn’t let me turn the torch on.

In Psalm 119, the narrator addresses God, saying “Your word is a lamp for my feet, and a light for my path” – like my phone. Unlike my phone, the Bible doesn’t run out of battery – that is, there is no point at which reading it stops being illuminating. Even if you’ve read a verse a hundred times before, there’s always something new to draw from it, to comfort and to guide – especially when reading it with others.

But like my phone, it’s important to remember that the Bible cannot illuminate the entire path before us, only a little ways ahead – it’s good for figuring out what to do in your current circumstances, but you can’t figure out what’ll happen five years from now from it. After all, fitting the entire life stories of everyone who would ever read it would make it even longer than it already is.

Of course, sometimes the darkness that strikes fear into my heart is a little less literal than a dark forest. I think most people have had the experience of looking at current events and being afraid; whether it’s climate change not being taken seriously enough, pointless infighting among people who should know better, politicians making statements seemingly designed to stir up hatred and misunderstanding, or large news companies uncritically presenting the opinions of a genocide advocate – and those are just the ones going on in the UK – it can often feel like the world is full of threats formed by the twin evils of apathy and malice.

This is because it is, which makes trying to assuage these fears fairly tricky. There are of course a number of verses I could quote here about dealing with fears like these, but for better or worse the thing that’s helped me most isn’t actually from the Bible at all – instead, it’s an excerpt from the poem ‘The Present Crisis’, written nearly 20 years before the American Civil War about the evils of slavery. Some of the theology in it is a little dodgy – I’m fairly sure people get more than one chance to decide whether to stand “for the good or evil side” – but a lot of it is both generally applicable and accurate, including:

Though the cause of Evil prosper, yet 'tis Truth alone is strong, And, albeit she wander outcast now, I see around her throng Troops of beautiful, tall angels, to enshield her from all wrong. [...] Careless seems the great Avenger; history's pages but record One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and the Word; Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne,— Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown, Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own.

Can you see why I like it? It acknowledges the fear and frustration of looking at a world where it seems that those with power do not have your best interests or your continued existence at heart, and where it looks like God isn’t doing anything, and makes the claim that God knows exactly what He is doing. Sure, Truth isn’t on the throne, but she is both protected and – despite the outward appearance of powerlessness, exile and defeat – in the position of real power. And that is far more comforting than any platitudes about which way the moral arc of the universe bends or whiggish theories of inevitable moral progress because it doesn’t rely on faith in people and in society – who, may I remind you, are the ones who got us into this mess in the first place – but on a faith in a God who is good and steadfast.

It also doesn’t brush over the fact that sometimes Wrong gets the short-term victories, and that really sucks for everyone involved. Sure, Truth gets a squad of angelic bodyguards, but a ‘death-grapple in the darkness’ necessarily involves injury or death. It’s not a comfort of everything being alright for you now; it’s a comfort of knowing which side wins in the end.

I gather that callbacks are an important part of structuring essays, so here’s one; remember earlier, when I said that my phone ran out of battery ‘the other day’? Well, the other day in question was in fact the thirty-first of October. Although I didn’t see anyone doing it, I’m sure someone somewhere dressed up as the creature from Frankenstein – although as we all know, university dropout Victor Frankenstein was the real monster.

Recently, I’ve been seeing a clip from a song called ‘creature’ (wow this is such a good segue) by a band called half alive on TikTok (yep, I’m down with the kids like that /s). Here’s a bit of the lyrics: I know I'm made of clay that's worn Blighted by imperfect form But I will trust the artist moulding me I am creation, both haunted and holy Made in glory Even the depths of the night cannot blind me When You guide me Creature only

See? It’s even got a bit about being guided through darkness, so I can pretend this post has some kind of thematic coherency.

Not too long ago I was talking to someone about what a theology of the body might look like – how faith should impact our views of our bodies – and I think this really articulates my instinctive reaction to that question. The body is both ‘fearfully and wonderfully made’ (Ps 139:14), and ‘this body of death’ (Rom 7:24), both ‘dust’ (Ps 103:14) and destined to ‘clothe itself with the imperishable’ (1 Cor 15:53)- both haunted and holy, broken and being made new. Inasmuch as it is beautiful, it inherits that beauty from being a shadow of better things long since lost and better things yet to come.

So when the body betrays us, does things that we never wanted nor asked for – well, what were we expecting? Things go awry, down here in the dark, and our efforts cannot perfectly fix them – although they can come very close indeed. How fortunate that they will be put right ‘in the twinkling of an eye’ (1 Cor 15:53) when dawn breaks.

Anyway, now I need to think of a conclusion to this weird ramble. Maybe something like “In conclusion, the light that shines in the darkness is beautiful and wonderful, but it would not do to forget that the darkness is as yet still there; though it is a balm for all ills, it is not necessarily the balm we would have asked for or expected.”

Yeah, that’ll do.

[nicromancytarot]

not related to romance but do you believe someone can be a Ti (or targeted individual) from a young age? even in small ways. cant count the amount of crap I have had to experience in this life, someone told me it was karmic from ancestors but I dont see how that can be the full or main reason why people have treated me the way they have done ever since I was little. its also why I dont really believe in romance anyway or that I'll never find anyone who truly respect me fpr me, yaknow cause so many people before pretend to be nice but any chance they got would shittalk behind my back or within ear shot and it wasnt a specific age group doing it heck I even had random old hags in shops gossip or comment about me for no real reason or someone who would react a certain way all the time even when I did nothing wrong or said nothing wrong.

I cant make up for lost time and I cant go back in time and experience something better so it just has sucked and its been so exhausting cause I cant seem to find "my people". unlike everyone else my age whos done better than me. heck I cant even use particular websites either without being hated on for every small little thing I have said, particularly on reddit it was hard to genuinely find somewhere I could post without someone telling me off for the way I felt about things. One commentor even told me to shh, dont speak, internalise. the fuck does that even mean? and worse, much worse stuff has been said to me online on every platform I tried, tumblr seems to be the exception tho so its ok for the now. But theres literally nowhere that I fit into I cant seem to find people of a similar age group anymore. either I shouldve been from an older generation or a newer generation either way its been so tiring cause I keep rethinking about how crap its been and yet no one else ever saw nor said nothing to anyone about what I saw or heard.

I like to think that the life where you experience heavy and difficult trauma is the one where your soul departs. I have Uranus 8th house in my natal chart lmao, trust me I am no stranger to experiencing dangerous and traumatic situations. My way of healing past those is to really think about why I am going through those.

An example is that I grew up with an alcoholic parent, it was very traumatising and took me around ten years to finally admit that I had to heal from it. I learnt at the end of last year that I experienced that because I was an alcoholic father in the past life which effects this one the most, so I am repaying my debts in this life by experiencing every small thing that any past live version of me used as a form of oppression on another person.

You might find that you are going through a bunch of things in this life to experience everything that you did to other people in some of your last lives.

You’ll always find a way to grow past those and heal, you just need time. There’s a community out here for you, you just need to find them.

[diaryofanormalkid]

Lol my black history month’s going great 👌🏿😁

I just remembered some weird convo I had at work with a client. He goes “I’m so sorry if this is a stupid question—” pause, because I already know once you say that, it’s going to be stupid.

“—but, why are your knuckles so much darker than your hands?” 🤦🏿‍♀️ he REALLY got me there. If the emoji didn’t give it away, well by now I should let you know I’m a dark-skinned black girl.

So imagine my immediate embarrassment, discomfort and overall awkward reaction to this indeed stupid question. I actually looked down at my hand to see what he was talking about.

I promise you I stared at my hand for 10 seconds before collecting my answer because I didn’t even notice until he said that. I go, “you know what, I don’t know…” bc HOW THE HECK DO YOU ASK THAT?

I didn’t create myself sir?!! How am I supposed to conclude how my knuckles are darker than my hands. Then I wondered… isn’t everybody’s’? I continue with “I didn’t notice until you said that.”

Lol I was so shook that he had the audacity to ask that bc he wasn’t even a little bit worried that he could somewhat offend me, get called out, cancelled, looked at funny… nothing.

He had all the support he needed to ask that peacefully without getting hate bc everyone around him… looks like him. Not me. There’s only one other POC where I work, and he’s not black.

It was definitely a new low from the all sorts of questions I’ve been asked so far. As for black history month, the other POC and I haven’t had any mention of it at all this month.

I hardly think they care to consider any acknowledgement of the month at all. I wouldn’t be surprised. Perhaps I’ll hear a mention of it later in the month. However, it’s already halfway over.

I guess I’ll also point out that technically, more like literally, the other POC is African. His nationality is Moroccan. But I still think he’s considered Arab since that’s North Africa.

Tbh idk enough about him to know how he identifies. Plus he looks entirely Arabic to me, so I wouldn’t put it past him. Nonetheless, I sometimes feel like ppl test my patience too often.

It’s sometimes isolating having no confidant who gets what I experience or I can look to or talk with at times so they can understand my feelings. I don’t relate to a lot of the ppl I work with.

And that’s okay. For many reasons, I never would anyways. A lot of them are in different life stages than I am, or speak multiple languages, or own very nice things and have a family etc.

Do different things outside of work, believe different religions, drink, smoke weed, etc. so it’s hard to find a common ground with anyone, except for really simple things like food/clothes.

It pains me sometimes to be on such surface level convos when I’ve been here long enough to be past those things. It just feels like I’ll never get to a point where I’m comfortable with the full group.

And I have my days where it’s better, but I just hate being in the moment when i feel like I’m on the outside looking in. I’m not included and they don’t even try to relate to me or make convo.

You know when they walk past you just to start a convo with someone to the left or right of me. Or they speak in their language and forget i can’t comprehend or contribute.

Or when they always seem to not mention if they make outside plans with each other but leave me out bc we don’t have rapport like that. I tell myself I’m fine with it since I’m introverted anyways.

In a lot of ways, I genuinely don’t mind not being invited out because at least I don’t have to decline with a lame excuse and can remain in the comfort of my own home with my own company.

I can catch up on sleep, or shows, cook, or do laundry, or eat in silence. Do whatever I want. And not have to feel like I’m wasting my time by forcing myself to go somewhere “to socialize.”

I don’t have to be uncomfortable trying to fit in or act engaged in the conversation, or pretend like I can relate to anything they just said or even understand when they switch languages.

I can be myself and not have to mask like I do at work when I fake laugh at a really unfunny joke, or act super extroverted and social just to not seem like a party pooper or Debby downer.

Or force my smile in front of clients and coworkers so they don’t realize I’m having a really off day. I can wear my relaxing clothes, eat as many snacks as I want, sing as loud as I feel.

And sleep as late as I want. Or as early. But there’s always that feeling like I’m missing out on so much. The fomo. Just wanting to be invited. Included. Thought about. Considered. Something.

It’s so unfulfilling working at a place where you get little to no joy out of it bc not even the ppl can give you some peace of mind that at least if the job sucks, you have someone.

FYI. I don’t smoke.