#just... this is a very important thing to understand

[poison-doll]

on further reflection i think maybe one of the reasons this post is so challenging for so many people is that it reveals the friction between very different social circumstances coming against each other.

like, it is very true that there are a lot of corners of the world that are e x t r e m e l y resistant to trans people coming out, medically transitioning, or existing. like, some doctors offices, legislative bodies, and internet subcultures say variously things like "do you understand the risks of hormone therapy?" or "you know you can just be a feminine man/masculine woman, right?" or "but hormones will ruin your body!" or "let trans men be feminine/let trans women be masculine!!" and for people in/previously in those spaces, 'you don't have to transition to be trans!' can be like an echo of those same catchphrases which are deployed to slow or stop medical transition. and, like, for me, for some people, i am trans because of my transition. that's not universally true, but my perspective of my own womanhood is that i became trans/woman when i took my first pill.* when i hear "you don't have to transition to be trans" i hear a lot of the voices from my teen years that made it so i was not able to medically transition until i was well into my 20s, a delay that almost killed me.

and it's also true that there are places where the opposite is true! where trans people who don't desire medical transition are ostracized and denied their identity! for a lot of people in this position validation of their identity as transness is actually critically important. it's very different from the other thing i've described, but it's just as true, and—at least as is my understanding from friends who are cissexual trans ppl and my recollection from my closeted pseudo-nb years—it's for them that "you don't have to transition to be trans!" actually is liberatory, is an important stance against the transmedicalism that still crops up in wider cisgender society & the medicalindustrial complex & some other only slightly different internet subcultures**

and for people who are way deep in one of those mindsets or the other it's super easy to forget that the other perspective exists. i fall more, although not entirely, into the former camp and often forget about different subjectivities. it's pretty normal for human beings, i think. but posts like this come up and different people all respond in very different ways, all of which are totally in line with their own experiences.

idk man shit is complicated. more cisgender people should take exogenous hormones that's all i'm saying.

*blah blah blah pancakes waffles obviously this is not true for anyone i said "me/my" very deliberately blah blah blah

**your daily reminder that saying "the needs of medically transitioning trans people and non transitioning trans people are materially different" is not transmedicalism.

"you don't have to transition to be trans": overdone, dull, runs cover for taking away medical care from those who need it

"you don't have to be trans to transition": exciting, poignant, radical perspective on the right to bodily autonomy

[carlossainzlusciouslocks]

It’s you.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You yell at a stranger at a party. That stranger happens to be Formula One driver, Lando Norris.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Possible angst (not really though!), swearing

Note: No use of Y/N or any pronouns for the reader.

This was based on the poll I posted a few days ago!

This fic was not supposed to be this long. I got a bit carried away when writing but I hope you all enjoy reading it! As always, I would appreciate any comments, criticisms or suggestions for new fics! And I apologise for any mistakes in the fic.

Lando Norris. The man that was currently all over the media.

Lando Norris. The man who, at 25 years old, has announced that he is retiring from Formula One after the 2025 season.

According to the ever reliable source of Sky F1’s David Croft (aka Crofty) Lando was leaving F1 due to the mass amount of hate he was receiving from fans as well as the overwhelming amount of harassment he was also receiving from the media.

Now, you didn’t actually know Lando Norris but it felt like you did with how much your coworker, Julian, talked about him.

"Ahh you just don’t understand! He is amazing. He is definitely a future world champion. I don’t understand why he would give it all up!" Julian would say.

Thanks to Julian you know Lando’s birthday, when his F1 debut was and the fact that he was in a drivers championship battle against Max Verstappen in the 2024 F1 season.

Which is why when the marketing firm you worked for was asked by Formula One driver Charles Leclerc to help with the launch of his new ice cream brand, LEC, Julian jumped at the opportunity to work with said driver, in the hopes of getting in contact with Lando. Julian was convinced that if he met Lando, he could convince him not to leave Formula One. You weren’t so sure.

"No! No! Absolutely not! Julian I’m not going. Please don’t make me." You said, turning your back to Julian in hopes of reinforcing your point.

"Oh come on! Lando Norris might be there! Lando mother fucking Norris. Please please please!" Julian pleaded, clasping his hands together in a prayer like motion.

"For the last time, I am NOT helping you with this launch event. I have so many things to do. I’ve got clients that are coming in for a meeting on Monday and I have no idea what I’m going to pitch to them." you say, a sense of finality in your voice.

"It’s Friday! Loosen up! You’ve got the whole weekend to think of something. Come on! We have literally been invited to a Formula One driver’s brand launch event. Well, we weren’t ‘invited’ invited. We will be working but still!" Julian was practically begging you to help him at the launch event.

Just as you were about to decline once again, your boss, Sylvie’s voice rang out. "You will be helping Julian with the event. I sent you an email last week informing you of this". She gave you a very pointed look as she spoke, clearly leaving no room for discussion.

A full 26 hours later, the launch event was in full swing. Julian had booked out a club in Monaco for the launch. There was an ice cream bar full of Charles’ own ice cream brand. There was also a table full of toppings that people could put onto the ice cream, and, arguably the most important thing, there was also an open bar. The open bar meant that the launch, as the night progressed, turned into a full on party. People drunk on the dance floor and puking in the bathrooms.

As soon as you arrived you had immediately been accosted by some of your other colleagues. They dragged you around the entire party making you put out all of the metaphorical fires that they didn’t know how to deal with. After saving multiple celebrities from PR nightmare after PR nightmare, you finally managed to escape the clutches of your coworkers. You set out to find Julian, who personally introduced to Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, Alexandra, as well as a handful of other people who’s names you didn’t care to remember.

An hour, and about a million alcoholic drinks later, you started to get sick of listening to Julian point out famous celebrities and decided that you needed some air. Desperately.

You quickly went in search of a balcony or a window, just something that would separate you and Julian freaking out over the famous people you were surrounded by. This was not as easy task due to how much champagne you had consumed throughout the evening in an attempt to make Julian’s fangirling a bit more bearable. Eventually, you stumbled across a balcony. One that overlooked over the Monaco skyline. You stumbled out onto the balcony but instead of the peaceful, and much welcomed, alone time you were expecting to get, you saw another person stood there. Another person who had a somewhat recognisable physique. But the alcohol you had consumed left you completely puzzled as to why you recognised this person. It’s not like you knew anyone famous enough to be invited to this brand-launch-turned-party.

"Oh sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was out here" You rushed to say, averting your eyes. You turned to leave but the stranger’s voice stops you from doing so.

"You can stay. I mean, if you want." The man rushed to say. He turned his head slightly in your direction. Only enough for you to see the outline of his side profile against the glorious night sky.

"Thank you" you said in an almost whisper. You made your way over to the railing of the balcony and leaned your forearms onto it, looking out over the city.

After a few minutes of quiet, you feel the skin on your face start to tingle. You turn your head slightly and find the man’s eyes glued to your face. You turn your head more towards the man, hoping you would be able to see his face more clearly and figure out who he was.

Oh.

Oh.

It was him.

Lando Norris.

He catches your eye and you quickly turn your head back so you were looking out at the city once again, knowing he had just caught you staring at him. You hear a deep chuckle from the man beside you. You feel him move closer to you. Slightly.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?”

He was flirting. He hadn’t even seen your face properly and he was flirting. Badly. But still, flirting nonetheless. You weren’t going to lie, it did boost your ego just a little to know that a Formula One driver was willing to flirt with you. But it did make you think that these F1 drivers will flirt with anything that looked at them for long enough.

“Wow! Smooth.” You said sarcastically. Cautiously.

“Shut up.” He joked.

“I just needed some air.” You answered.

He hummed softly.

“The party is good. Busy. The music is good too. I would have been a much better DJ though” You both laughed. The two of you spent the next 5, or so, minutes talking. Neither of you failing to make the other laugh. Both of you inching closer and closer together the more you spoke.

You thought back to what Julian had said to you about Lando. ‘He is definitely a future world champion. I don’t understand why he would give it all up!’ The alcohol in your system had clouded your judgement. You felt as though you had to ask.

"Can I ask you a question?" You blurted out just as he was about to speak again. He was probably about to make some flirty, jokey comment about how you should go home with him.

"Oh. Of course. Yeah. Sure" he said, taking a step away from you, picking up on the change in tone of your voice. He was clearly expecting you to disappoint him by asking for a photo or signature or something he didn’t have the energy to give. Both of your faces turned to, once again, look over the Monegasque skyline.

You clear your throat. "What do you want?"

"Excuse me?" He asked, obviously taken aback by your question.

"You heard me. What do you want?" You repeated.

"Oh… Ermmm. I- ermmm" He said. Unable to form a clear sentence, a clear train of thought.

"Do you want people to take pity on you, beg you to stay? Do you want people to feel bad for how they treated you, how the media treated you, how ‘fans’ treated you? Because they won’t. You have to be naive to think that they will."

His brows furrowed at this.

"Do you want to throw away an entire career just because the media has turned people against you? A career that you have worked so had to achieve. A career that your family worked so hard to help you get and excel in." You turned your whole body to face him now. He didn’t dare look at you.

"Are you just going to give up because it’s no longer fun? Because you are no longer a ‘fan favourite’? Because people, the media, the fans, everyone is ‘out to get you’? Is that what you are going to do with the rest of your life, give up when things get hard, when people turn against you?" Your voice was starting to get louder and louder the more you spoke. "What about the fans that love you? What about all of the people that you have inspired and are inspiring? What about the fans whose lives you have saved?" You couldn’t help yourself, you tried to stop yourself from saying all of these things but you just couldn’t. You wouldn’t dream of saying any of this sober. But right now you were anything but sober. Tonight, right now, was the only time you would ever see him and you felt like you should say something. Him leaving Formula One felt, to you, to everyone, like a rash decision, one that he was bound to regret once the season was over.

"You are acting like a Zayn Malik when you need to be acting like a Nico Rosberg." His eyebrows raised so high that it was almost comical. He was snapped him out of the shocked and, quite frankly, offended trance that he seemed to be in for the entirety of your speech.

"What? What does that even mean?" His voice going up an octave.

"What-I- what do you think it means?! It means that you are just leaving when you should be fighting to prove the people who are doubting you, the people who are sending you hate, wrong. And you do that by winning a world championship, which I know you are capable of winning. And if you still want to leave after that then you leave on a high. You leave on a win." You say, as though it was obvious.

"First of all, we don’t know each other, I quite literally don’t even know who you are, w- ah- are you an influencer or some shit? God I knew I shouldn’t have come tonight. " He said the last part under his breath.

"Look, I don’t know what makes you think you can go on a whole rant about my decision to leave F1. It is my decision, not yours, not anyone else’s, mine and mine alone so I think you just need to BACK OFF! I don’t know what makes you think you have the right to lecture me or make me feel bad about my choices. Secondly, that metaphor was completely lost on me and quite frankly kinda outdated. You saying that Zayn "just left" is undermining what he actually when through and what actually happened. That’s not even the point!" He shook his head.

"The point is, you need to mind your own and get the fuck out of other peoples business" With that he turned on his heel and disappeared back into the party.

The next few weeks were hectic for you at work. Once people were made aware of the success of Charles’ brand launch, more and more people, who had seen how well the brand launch went, had been wanting to get your companies help with their branding.

It all came to ahead when Julian came to your desk one morning and shoved his phone into your face. You took the phone from his hands and read the article he had pulled up.

‘Lando Norris not leaving Formula One next year’ the headline read.

"Can you believe it?! This is amazing! He has apparently made a statement on his Instagram saying that he has decided to stay in Formula One! I’m actually so happy! What do you think caused him to change his mind?"

"I don’t know" you said with a nervous laugh. It was all coming back to you now. Everything from that night at the party.

‘Do you want people to feel bad for how they treated you, how the media treated you, how ‘fans’ treated you? Because they won’t. You have to be naive to think that they will.’

You cringed as you remembered what you had said. In your defence you were incredibly drunk, don’t tell Julian or Sylvie. But that doesn’t still excuse what you did. You felt terrible for what you said to him, you really didn’t mean to say it. You really didn’t want to say it.

For the rest of the day you replayed your interaction with Lando over and over again in your head. Every time you thought of it, you felt guiltier and guiltier.

It only made you feel worse when a few days later a familiar face walked through the doors of your place of work.

"Bonjour. Welcome to MARKETING COMPANY NAME. Have you got an appointment?" You heard Gen, the receptionist, say.

You didn’t think much of this interaction. Clients come and go from the office all of the time.

"You do. That is amazing. What is your name?" You heard Gen ask.

"Lando Norris."

You froze.

No.

Please. No. This could not be happening.

"I’m actually here to see-"

You didn’t hear what name he said. You didn’t need to. You knew he was there for you. You kept facing your computer. You kept your back turned away from where he was stood. You prayed that he didn’t see you.

He did.

Of course he did.

He had spotted you as soon as he walked into the office.

You felt him tap your shoulder. Reluctantly, you turned around. He looked good. He looked different to how he looked at the party. He looked determined. Lighter. You, on the other hand, looked sheepish, embarrassed.

"Hello. Can I help you?" You said with as much confidence as you could muster.

"It’s you."

Shit.

"Erm- I- erm- I don’t know what you mean" your false confidence faltering.

"From the party. Charles Leclerc’s party."

Oh no. He was here to confront you.

You couldn’t have stood up from your chair fast enough.

"Oh god. I’m so sorry about that. Seriously, I was so drunk and I know that’s not a good enough reason but I-" He hugged you. You didn’t know what to do. Your hands hovered over his back. You were about to hug him back when you heard

"OH MY GOD. IS THAT LANDO NORRIS?!" Julian. Of course it was Julian.

Lando pulled away quicker than you thought was humanly possible.

"Could I talk to you. Somewhere more private?" Lando whispered. Your faces were still incredibly close to each other from the hug, noses almost touching.

"Yeah. Of course." You grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards your bosses office. She was in a meeting so you just let yourself in.

"I’m-"

"I just-" you both started speaking at the same time.

"No you go first" You said, ushering your hands forward.

"Okay. I just wanted to say thank you for yelling at me. You were right. I was letting what other people thought of me and what they said about me, cloud my judgement. I don’t know if you have seen it but I decided to stay in Formula One and you are the reason why I changed my mind. You really knocked some sense into me I guess" Lando looked bashfully at his feet.

"Oh… I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t really know what to say. Erm. Your welcome. I think?" Your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Wait how did you even find me?"

"Oh that. I asked Charles who planned the party and thought if I showed up at the marketing company he said was involved, I might see you. And I was right"

"Oh. I really don’t know what to make of that. This is all so weird. I thought you were here to yell at me." You said shaking your head in disbelief.

"Me? Yell at you? Never. There was another reason why I wanted to come here in person though." Lando said, a faint blush on his face.

"Oh" you enquired.

"Yeah. I was also wondering if I could get your phone number?"

"My phone number? Oh. Wait. Why? Oh my god are you going to sue me or something?! Oh god no please don’t. I literally don’t have any money. I’m literally poor as shit."

He laughed. Hard. Like a knee slapping-ly hard kind of laugh.

"Sue you? Why would I do that? I’m trying to ask you out!" Lando said, out of breath from laughing so much.

"What? Ask me out? But I yelled at you? We don’t even know each other. I could be a serial killer. We literally met at a party." You were seriously questioning if he had hit his head on the way to your office.

"Yeah but we’ll get to know each other. You haven’t answered my question. Can I have your phone number? You yelled at me so basically, you owe me." He said hopefully.

"Oh. Yeah of course" You fumbled to get your phone out of your pocket. You handed the phone over to him and watched him put his number into your phone. He then sent himself a text from your phone so that he could have your number too.

"Okay cool! I’ll call you.” He turned and started to walk away. He stopped suddenly and turned back to you

“Please don’t yell at me down the phone when I call" He joked, turning, once again, to walk out of your bosses office. Leaving you gobsmacked at his comment.

As you were walking back to your desk, you looked down at your phone, blush covering your face.

You sat back down at your desk feeling giddy. Just as you were about to log back into your computer, your phone lit up.

Lan🧡

Thank you.

You shook your head, feeling incredibly embarrassed. Shy. Just as you were about to put your phone down, another text came through.

Lan🧡

Btw you looked really pretty today 💕

[svetamillss]

Random headcanons in your relationship with them✨

Featuring: Yeon Si Eun x Reader(f), Ahn Su Ho x Reader(f), Oh Beom Seok x Reader(f), Seo Jun Tae x Reader(f), Park Hu Min (Baku) x Reader(f), Go Hyeon Tak x Reader(f)

A/N: English is not my native language! Sorry for the mistakes! I was also asked to write with these boys.

Yeon Si Eun

The guy likes to help you with your homework. Despite the fact that he doesn't like to be distracted while studying, he has a completely different attitude towards you. He is ready to explain the same thing to you until you understand the material. In secret, he is amused by the fact that you are embarrassed by such attention on his part to your grades. It's just that he really wants you to have a good future and is ready to do anything for this.

- Damn, I don't understand this math at all. - you sigh nervously, sitting on his bed, he just looks at you carefully, the corner of his mouth twitches slightly, saying that he is smiling.

- I'll explain everything to you now.

- But you've already done it..

- I'll explain again until you understand. - You don't understand how you deserved love from such a secretive and quiet person like him.

Ahn Su Ho

The guy loves your food madly, he is ready to give up any other, just to eat only yours. Knowing his love, you cook for him all the time. And bring lunch and dinner to him at work, to a restaurant or before he goes to deliver orders. It is important for you to know that your boyfriend is full of energy and not starving, and he has a very good appetite. He will say a million compliments to you, your talent and your food.

- Oh my God, my princess came to save me from hunger. - he says, when you enter the restaurant, Si Eun looks at him strangely.

- You're in a restaurant, you could have eaten here.

- Dude, you won't understand. - he waves it off with a smile, running up to you and hugging you tightly.

Oh Beom Seok

You know his relationship with his father, so you are always ready to help and support him in difficult moments. He often runs away from home after quarrels, he comes to you. Yes, he is ashamed, he is shy, because he has to protect you, not you, but you don't mind at all and are happy to take him in. Your parents don't mind either, because they know his situation, but they don't question him. At home, you will feed him, let him take a shower, and put him on your bed, next to you, so that he feels safe. And he is really grateful to you, and in his heart he believes that he did not deserve you.

- Thank you. - he says quietly, before you both plunge into the kingdom of Morpheus, he will also lightly kiss you on the cheek as a sign of gratitude and love.

Seo Jun Tae

Despite the fact that the guy is a high school graduate, he loves to watch cartoons, but no one knows about it, not even his friends. But you are an exception. When you learned about his passion for cartoons, you gladly accepted his passion and began to arrange home dates with him, where ate sweets and watched various cartoons.

- What cartoon are we going to watch today? - he asked when he brought chips, marmalade and soda to the room, you answered without thinking twice.

- Let's watch "Sponge Bob: Square Pants".

- Great idea. - he replied with a shy smile.

Park Hu Min (Baku)

Your boyfriend was a knight to you, and you were his princess. That's why he constantly met you from school or extra classes, no matter where and what time they are, he will still come. Baku will follow you to your favorite places, whether it's various fashion stores or something like that. At first you wondered why he protected you so much, but when he told more about himself, everything fell into place. He is very afraid to lose you, so he will watch over you as the most important treasure in the world.

- What time do you finish today? - he asks when he brought you to school.

- I'll finish at five.

- Okay, honey, I'll come exactly at this time. - he said, kissing you on the lips.

Go Hyeon Tak

He had two passions. It's you and basketball. So you weren't surprised when he chose a basketball court as a place for dates. He really wanted to teach you how to play so that you could play basketball together later. You didn't burn much with desire, but you agreed for him, because you knew that your boyfriend wanted you to have common interests with him.

- Well, are you ready to fight me today? - he said cheerfully, taking the ball in his hands.

- But I didn't really learn!

- No need to say that, you already know how to do a lot, so at the same time let's see how you learned my lessons.

✨✨✨

[yuurei20]

Dream-world information/rules (by request): interestingly, the dreamworlds are possibly teaching the dreamers how it feels to be Malleus:

Ortho: “It's the dreamers themselves whose imaginations form those happy dreams. Of course, those dreams still have to be made within Malleus's constraints…namely, no negative emotions like sadness or anger allowed.”

And there is someone else who is not allowed to feel any emotions like sadness or anger, lest something terrible happen 🐉

Ortho: "I thought Malleus's dream worlds were designed to provide the target with whatever form of pleasure they wanted...But maybe it's more of a system to remove displeasure the target doesn't want. Sadness, anger, and the like.”

And this is not just speculation, with Sebek and Silver coming to the same conclusion:

Idia: “It's like playing a video game where you start at max level and every enemy steers clear of you. There's no losing and retrying. No trial and error to overcome obstacles. The challenge and payoff of getting good is what truly makes gaming rewarding.” Silver: “In Malleus's case...I think in terms of encountering rewarding challenges, his experience is extremely limited. Ever since he was born…or even before then..he's had enough power to easily trounce even veteran soldiers. Starting at max level and having every enemy steer clear isn't just an analogy for him. I think it's an accurate description of his life.”

Idia follows with:

"If Malleus actually matched Sebek's description and had some unflappable superhuman psyche…we wouldn't be in this mess at all. But nope, this natural-born overlord and walking cheat code experiences the same emotional highs and lows that the rest of us do. That's what I call a glaring design flaw.” “There are times when setbacks and defeats can be contributing factors in reaching a happy ending. Likewise, there are times when successes and victories can be causal factors in a bad ending. No matter how much of a walking cheat code Malleus is, maybe he just doesn't have that level of predictive ability or control. Which leaves his only option being a systematic elimination of all negative emotions.”

Malleus has never experienced setbacks or defeats, so he has no frame of reference for happiness that derives from them.

It is beyond Malleus’ ability to imagine, and we have seen the dreams limited by Malleus’ imagination before: Lilia’s, where Malleus was unable to interfere in a timeline before his own birth.

Silver: "What if Malleus has trouble controlling things he doesn't know about and can't imagine...?"

We are still learning the rules of the dreams as the characters themselves do not understand what is happening and are providing us with information through trial and error, and there is still more, very important information to come on EN (memo: this post will need to be updated📝).

But here are some of the rules!

1. Dreams break down when a happy ending becomes impossible, at which point everything is swallowed into an abyss (hence the name of Book 7 in the original game: Lord of the Abyss)

2. Idia says that once swallowed by the abyss the dreamer can potentially wake up on their own but there is no telling what may happen to foreign elements

(we have possibly seen successful examples of “foreign elements” being swallowed into the abyss and surviving, with both Silver and Lilia having their abysses invaded by others, but Idia has not)

3. The ���happiness” in the dreams is superficial, as though following the vague order of “keep dreaming happy dreams,” possibly due to Malleus’ inability to imagine what happiness is.

4. Despite the “superficial” nature of the dreams, Ortho explains that “people’s mental circuity—their hearts and minds—can be surprisingly complex,” resulting in the dreams coming up with creative ways to please the dreamers

(Example: Kalim attending a school that isn’t NRC not because he is unhappy at NRC and Rook dreaming of NRC without Vil not because he wants Vil out, but because they were both avoiding tragedies that happened there.)

5. People who shares lots of memories with a dreamer have a better likelihood of helping them wake up 

6. When a dreamer is about to wake, NPCs will try to keep them inside.

7. It is possible that consuming food in a dream aids in mental recovery

8. It is possible to run out of breath through exertion and feel pain when hit in a dream

9. Malleus is possibly keeping the stronger mages under tighter surveillance than others, with Idia and Vil being constantly attended by their dreams “GM” (human-Ortho for Idia, Neige for Vil)

10. In instances where a real-world source of negativity is too much a part of who the dreamer is to separate them, their absence is likely to cause paradoxes and dream-breakdowns.

The dreams adapt to this by rewriting the source of stress into something less offensive: a bumbling assistant version of Neige who could never hope to rival Vil and a more polite and humble version of Kalim for Jamil.

To Be Continued ♪

[burnt-by-marigolds]

Why I think it's important that Astarion embraces the shadows

You know it's funny, at first I thought I was trapped by the shadows – cursed to live in them forever. But in time, I realised that darkness is as much a part of me as my fangs. This is only a curse as long as I refuse to embrace the shadows. So I decided I would.

I love how the choice between ascending and forgoing the ritual is designed: ascension grants an immediate reward (and thus presents an alluring temptation), but requires mass slaughter; letting go of the power comes at a personal cost, but saves lives and gives victims a second chance. If it was any other way, there would be no story in this choice; no dilemma, no conflict, nothing memorable.

I also think it’s crucial how in the spawn route, we see Astarion not only in high spirits (When I look at my future, anything and everything feels possible now), but also grieving. While he doesn’t regret his choice, he does feel sorry for his personal loss – which is natural and valid. And while I love that we can promise him to look for another way to walk in the sun again (after all, the Forgotten Realms are full of wonders – and the whole Multiverse even moreso), I also consider the narrative of him coming to terms with his condition (without giving up hope) much more real – and very important, at least to me.

I’d like to talk about two layers here: the more literal one, and the more metaphorical one.

The more literal one is pretty straightforward: we all have our limits in life. Some of them, we’re born with; some come up along the way; and other still are forced onto us. My first thought is neurodivergency or chronic illnesses, but I’m sure other people can name many more examples. You take medications or you go to therapy (pursuing the sun), but at the same time you just have to accept these things are a part of your reality, beyond your control. 

The more metaphorical layer makes me think of the Jungian shadow.

As some of you probably know, the Jungian shadow is the suppressed part of the psyche. It’s the facts about ourselves that are too painful or uncomfortable to acknowledge, facts we are unaware of, or facts we don’t like about ourselves and associate with shame. They make us behave in certain ways, often without us understanding why. And the more we sweep all of this under the rug of unconsciousness, the stronger the shadow becomes, constantly holding us back or making us repeat certain patterns (sometimes maladaptive) over and over.

(I’d like to emphasise that the shadow isn’t inherently “evil” – for example, we may suppress a trait or a behaviour because it’s culturally viewed as unacceptable, not because it’s objectively bad. The shadow is simply what lies uncovered, and may encompass useful and positive things as well.)

You probably already see where this is all going.

When Astarion says he has accepted the shadows as a part of him, he basically says he has learned to love himself just the way he is, without the need to become some better, idealised – and unattainable – version of himself. He has learned he is enough even with all the “less savoury” aspects – and it's clear it makes him feel free and more in control of his life.

Don’t hate me, but I think it’s more important than him literally walking in the sun. And let me reiterate – the point isn’t to forsake the sun entirely. Searching for it is an important endeavor – it symbolises making the word a better place. But I do believe accepting the shadow(s) is crucial to healing and an important first step towards any other goals.

This is who I am. In all my glory, for better and for worse.

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

What do you think of Bryan Q. Miller’s characterisation of Stephanie Brown?

Mixed feelings!! On one hand, I have a huge soft spot for Batgirl 2009 and Steph’s narrative of perseverance and dragging yourself up and to bigger and better things after what should have been total destruction is just so so important to me. It’s great for that, and for giving Steph’s character a proper spotlight and ‘redemption’ when she very well could have been relegated to the sidelines, forever haunted by her brutal fridging. And I understand why BQM might not have wanted to dredge up War Games- Batgirl 2009 is a chance for Steph’s character to move past the shitty sexist torture porn story she was killed off in. But on the other hand, the almost total absence of it to the story feels conspicuous and strange, and I really wish we could’ve gotten a characterization of Steph that felt a little more grounded in it. If that makes sense?

She’s sort of at an all time low before Batgirl 2009. Not only has she survived the brutality of War Games, the fake death retcon returns her in uncertain graces with the other characters. Her life is uprooted, the future of her character is unsteady, and to top it off she ends Robin 1993 portrayed as disgraced and foolish, as having proven Yet Again, that Steph is proven absolutely not good enough to be a vigilante.

But none of that emotion fully carries over into Batgirl 2009? Steph seems fine enough, and while I can (and do!) read that as a repression fake-it-till-you-make-it thing, a more explicit thing might’ve been nice?

I have a few small, line by line nitpicks, for example the whole ‘forgetting Steph sews’ thing rly bothers me because it’s just such a consistent trait and to me it’s so so essential that Steph makes her own OG costume - it really communicates her self-starter ‘I’ll do it myself’ personality and how it works with her vigilantism.

Also, for a comic where Crystal has so many appearances and so much potential power in the story, I feel like we missed out on a lot of Steph and hers relationship, I don’t know if I love how Steph is characterized in relation to Crystal and would have loved something a little more attached to her history with her mom.

Just generally, I find it unfortunate that much like a lot of Tim’s characterization in the early post-Flashpoint was heavily influenced by his portrayal in Red Robin, Steph’s more blatant bubbly-ness of Batgirl 2009 became sort of her baseline post new 52. Of course, Steph’s character has always been a little silly, and she’s always told her jokes, but a lot of her other (really important!!!) traits like her anger, and her grit, and her angst, and her pessimism have been much less prominent. But I rly don’t blame Batgirl 2009 for that so much. Just an unfortunate side effect of the reboot that has unfortunately really stuck around.

So I guess, overall my biggest thing is I wouldve prefer if BQMs characterization of Steph was just more grounded in her history.

Would love to hear others thoughts on this bc I fear I probably have my biases and preferences interfering here to a degree. Thank you for the ask!! 💜

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

That's a reflection on them, not you. That isn't to say it won't hurt when someone judges you, it's absolutely going to hurt. But the fact is that you need to have the confidence to know yourself and know that, no matter what people believe about you, you know who you are, what you're worth, and what you believe and think about yourself. You need to develop the confidence to understand that, no matter what anyone says or believes about you, what they accuse you of, you know yourself and that their accusations don't change this truth of you and never will. You cannot allow the judgment of another to define who you are.

I get judged constantly, I've had people tell me the most abhorrent things I dare not even repeat, calling me some of the worst shit imaginable, and one of those things was, I kid you not, over commenting on how I loved an art of Deadpool and Spiderman kissing. But at the end of the day, they can believe what they will of me. I know who I am, and it doesn't matter if they do or don't. I wish they understood me, yes, and it hurts that they never will accept the truth about me, but there are more things to worry about at the end of the day than what some random folks think of who I am when I know myself more than they ever will, and I uphold this in my actions, beliefs, daily affirmations, etc.

In ethics, there's something called the growth mindset, meaning people are willing and open to learning and changing their minds, versus a closed mindset wherein they're not willing to learn or change (you'll often see this in especially older and elderly people, for example with how many elderly folks refuse to learn technology at all and demand for alternatives to it). And if the person has a closed mindset then it's not your duty to make them change that. Chances are that no amount of teaching will ever change their mindset, anyway.

And the people who would, in your situation, assume automatically you're a cannibal or cannibalism supporter, are those who likely have the closed mindset, or at least have not received the teaching to understand that to learn most anything at all, you have to challenge your worldview.

Even if they believe you're a cannibalism supporter, so what? Is that a bad thing when put in the context of a society in which it's merely a fact of life for them? Is it bad to allow people to have traditions wherein they consume the bodies of their loved ones believing it brings them closer to them? Is it wrong to support an act of survival to keep oneself alive in desperation? Cannibalism isn't inherently barbaric.

Support of something isn't always black or white, either. You can have nuanced situations in which you'll support something or not based on context, and not just this example but for a number of things. Would you support something such as animal euthanasia for when an animal is very sick and cannot live a quality life, but if it's for the reason that a shelter or city is overpopulated by the animal you wouldn't support it? What about murder? Would you support someone killing a person who is attempting to kill them, but you wouldn't support the idea for murder just for murder's sake?

That is the thing about ethics is it forces you to realize the nuances of the world, the human experience and mind, and people who refuse to see this are those with closed mindsets who, more likely than not, would judge you as in your example. And it doesn't matter what they think of you because at the end of the day, again, you're how you define yourself. And if you'll allow hate and poor judgment to define you, if you're going to worry about what everyone thinks of you in many or all contexts, you'll never be able to challenge your own worldview to learn in your own mindset, to grow and change.

Granted, that isn't to say you should just ask a bunch of random strangers on the street for their opinions on a controversial subject. It's important that you discuss these things in open circles where others are willing to contribute to the discussion in a constructive way, such as a classroom or a mutual meeting space.

But in the end, confidence in yourself as well as understanding that others do not have the right to define you, only you do, is key.

[astrobolical]

I’ve taken a deeper dive into DC comics recently, and I have something I gotta say.

Guy Gardner just needs a chance to escape his past.

While his bowlcut and joke-character era are important, they were filled with throwaway c-rank hero antics and writers who, lets face it, didn’t like him. But he’s not as bad as people think when they hear the name Guy Gardner. He’s more than just that lantern Batman knocked out with one punch (which was deserved, but still).

The more I read about him or things he’s included in, especially more recent media, I’m awestruck that he doesn’t get at least a little more love.

So here are the reasons I think Guy Gardner is better than you think he is.

Upbringing

“I never took a punch that hurt as bad as any he gave me.”

Guy didn’t have it easy growing up. His father was an abusive alcoholic who berated and beat him daily for nothing, just because he was there, because he was “thick headed.” But despite everything he went through and the horrible upbringing he had to endure, Guy didn’t fall into the same cycle as his father did. Yeah, he has a bad attitude, he’s pretty cocky and he hides behind that bravado, but he never turned to villainy.

He became a social worker in older media, working to help people who are in his situation to escape it, like I’m sure he wished someone would have helped him. In more recent media it has been retconned that he’s a cop, which I like less, but he’s still a good one. He goes out of his way to help people and make their lives better, as best he can. No one walks away from that sort of history unscathed, so his aggressive persona is no surprise. But he’s a Green Lantern, and a hero despite it all.

Willpower & Strength

Just to begin with the fight pictured above, Guy took on that Yellow Lantern without his ring and nearly died, but he won. He has some of the strongest willpower there is, and the sheer bravado to back it up. His fellow Lanterns, mostly, know that while he’s problematic that he will get the job he’s given done. And if they don’t right away, they’ll soon learn it.

Guy very easily could have been who the ring went to over Hal, if it weren’t for Booster Gold’s time stream shenanigans causing him to be further than Hal was from the ring (which was how it was supposed to be, Booster was making sure things stayed how they were meant to). That’s all it came down to. Distance. He was also a candidate for John’s ring, but if I recall he was helping someone and lost out again.

And his creativity with his constructs and how quickly he can work with it is astounding.

(More on this topic also in Intelligence below)

Devotion & Reliabiltiy

“C’mon kid… can’t d-do this without you.”

Believe it or not, he’s a reliable partner both work-wise and in romance. He’s trusted to mentor new Lanterns, and is a high ranking Lantern himself for a reason. He’s rough around the edges, a little too forward, blunt and a tiny bit horny (…okay very horny) but all of that goes out the window when someone is in danger.

He cares for others despite how his persona may make it seem. He listens more than people think, and he understands others more than he lets on. A good example of this is actually in a silly comic about superhero dating. While he was showboating and being a bit of an arse, he retained every single thing she told him. (And for context, she was using him for an article about how BAD it would be to date a superhero— specifically him. Rude much?)

“Nothing’s gonna stop me from being at your side if you need someone or something.”

And to his partners he does show great care and love for them, even if he’d rather be seen as the tough guy.

So, yeah, despite it all there’s someone with a very large heart behind his attitude. He’s bold, he’s loud and far too confident, but you also know he’s someone you can turn to.

Intelligence

“I figured out the receptors in my brain I need to stimulate.”

This is one of the bigger points for me, because as much as he fucks around this man is incredibly intelligent. He’s been shown to deep dive into research, study and learn whenever he needs to. So much so his entire room was at one point a terrible mess.

But even more so this man was able to save himself from dying after being cut in half. I debated putting his in Willpower, but it’s more a testament to his quick thinking and knack for learning.

He was able to use his ring to recreate his lower body, which included all organs which functioned to keep him alive. Eventually he even perfected it enough so that it would take less effort to maintain. Then to stop himself from ever having to sleep (and his lower body subsequently disappearing and killing him) he figured out how to stimulate his brain with his power ring to release the chemicals he needed without actually having to sleep. He would have needed to figure this out within a day or two at most while dealing with the severe trauma he would have experienced.

So few people would have had the wherewithal to even save themselves to begin with, let alone trick your brain in such a way so quickly. And accurately.

And there’s so much more to his character than the shit end of the stick he was originally given. That’s not to say he isn’t an arrogant little bastard, but when people hear “Guy Gardner” they laugh, without realizing how much his character has evolved.

He’s able to be his bratty self, sing songs about his ass, showboat and still be a good person while maintaining that humour.

So yeah, I think more people need to give Guy Gardner a chance.

[certifiedsexed]

i came to realize i am a stone top and told my trans gf 3 years into our relationship. she is uncomfortable with the entire idea, feeling like she is losing a sacred part of me and it shot down her confidence. Any advice/ideas for stone tops with partners who still want to touch them?

Okay! So, this is definitely more of a therapy for both of you, couples therapy maybe situation, if I'm being honest but I do have a couple tips.

First, if you don't know what your boundaries are regarding touch and penetration, I'd figure them out so that you can be clear about that and your girlfriend can know to stay within those boundaries if you have sex.

Secondly, I'd recommend talking to your girlfriend about how you feel about how she feels like she's "losing a part of you". You just shared an additional part of yourself with her, I imagine that reaction might feel hurtful, so talk with her about it and make sure you're on the same page.

Maybe talk about what type of sex you do want to have! See if any of that overlaps with things she likes-Maybe look into different types of sex beforehand if you don't have any ideas, see what's interesting to you. Make sure your girlfriend understands how you feel about her and that she's not losing you just because you want to have sex differently.

Also don't let this make you feel like you being stone is a bad thing. Knowing where your boundaries lie and having an identity to communicate that is beautiful.

And while your girlfriend can initially feel however she wants, sexual boundaries are very important and if she doesn't see and/or respect that, that's a sign that you're not sexually compatible and might need to figure something else out.

Beyond that, I don't have a lot of tips but I hope y'all work it out, Anon! Congratulations on realizing you're stone, btw, that's dope. <3

[plaidos]

Still the anon from the trans men male privilege thing. I don’t think we’re going to agree but alas, i’m going to give my last thoughts on this. No, I don’t think trans men are the same of any other marginalized kind of men, because they are a different sex (or sex at birth based on how far along their transition is) and sex and gender are the basis on which the patriarchy works. It does not recognize trans men as men, imo. It recognizes any other kind of man as a man, because they are male, and that is a requisite. If it wasn’t, a lot of misogynistic laws wouldn’t be based on sex. I don’t see how you can be directly targeted by a system, and also be the person the system is made for. It doesn’t happen for any other group of people, and imo, it doesn’t happen to trans men, either. Who you truly are and your identity doesn’t matter to the patriarchy, or we wouldn’t live in a transphobic world. Being a man under the patriarchy requires being male and having been born male (and also obviously fulfilling that social role which trans women don’t do). No other men is suffering from misogyny every day, and will until they die, no matter the marginalization. The notion that the world and especially the patriarchy does not see trans people as the gender they identify as is commonly understood, so how is it that there is the assumption that trans men are just like any other man under the patriarchy? Aren’t those two beliefs in direct contradiction of one another? The difference in sex is incredibly important when it comes to understanding how trans men are treated under this system, because the system cares about it a lot, to the point where it’s based on it (not just on it, to be clear).

I’m not saying the exact opposite thing happens to trans women, I see and hear how horribly you girls are treated, and I’m not going to explain why because obviously you already know. Trans experiences aren’t the opposites of one another. No trans bodies are treated well under the patriarchy, period. And it doesn’t benefit any trans people at all, because no trans people fulfill all the requisites to have male privilege, only cis men do.

Either way, disagreement is not the end of the world. Thank you for your time and I hope you have a nice day.

i just need you to know that the conclusions you are reaching are the opinions of terfs. you can’t just add “and gender” to the phrase “sex is what the patriarchy is based around” and strip it of the terf stuff: that’s not true, and trying to define it this way will only necessarily exclude trans women.

furthermore, if you think that somebody has to be “recognised as a man” to receive any kind of male privilege, i’m sorry, but you must be white to think that, right? because that isn’t how men of color are treated. non white men are in fact pretty much NOT considered “real men” in a way very analogous to how society sees trans men. disabled men are also not seen as “full men” — that doesn’t mean they aren’t men.

and like i’ve said a dozen times now and you keep ignoring — no. trans men are not recognised to be “exactly like other men” but that doesn’t matter: the patriarchy fundamentally values trans men higher than trans women. you’re totally reaching your conclusions backwards by DECIDING what the patriarchy thinks based on vibes rather than actually comparing the material conditions of these two groups. (spoiler alert: the gap between trans men & trans women‘a housing/employment security is reflective of the men/women of other marginalised groups too, wow, it’s almost as if trans men are men.)

you need to stop taking transphobes at face value. every time you say something like “well trans men are just seen as female so they don’t get any of the benefits of the patriarchy” what you’re implying is “and trans women are seen as male and therefore they do” — it doesn’t matter if you actually even think that or not because that’s fundamentally what you are saying whether you mean it or not.

every single one of your arguments comes back to “well trans men are basically just seen as female exclusively and thus reap no benefits of the patriarchy” and it’s just totally totally detached from any kind of reality in a way that makes me think you don’t know many trans men who are actually transitioning IRL?? what you’re describing here is basically not true on any level.

And, finally, I need you to know that the things we are disagreeing on here are not a “small deal”. If I met somebody who was saying what you are saying in real life, I would avoid them, and tell other trans women to avoid them too, because you are fundamentally parroting a TERF analysis of gendered oppression. you literally even outline “sex based oppression” as the basis of the patriarchy and that is the fundamental lie at the centre of the gender critical movement. these are not small “agree to disagree” things, I do not think trans women IRL are going to feel safe around a trans guy repeating terf talking points to prove why he doesn’t have privilege over trans women.

[lemotmo]

911 8x18 episode thoughts and ruminations:

Okay, where to begin with this episode?

First of all:

I still think it was a good episode, but it wasn’t a good season finale episode. If this had been a midseason finale, it would have been fine, but as a grand finale? Nah.

It was still far better than the season 7 finale though. That one truly made me feel miserable.

Second:

What happened in 8b? It started out so great and then suddenly 8x14 hit us and it got progressively worse from then on, with one highlight in 8x17 and an okay 8x18 which wasn’t an episode fit for a finale.

And where is Tim Minear? He always gives a grand post episode interview and now he’s nowhere to be found? It does make you wonder what is going on at ABC and whether they still trust Tim after all of this mess.

Third: The Bobby storyline.

I really really really believed that the man was still alive. Every single thing in that narrative pointed into that direction. Not to mention the insane things that happened behind the scenes. Did Tim actually give out fake scripts to his actors to consciously mislead the audience? What a terrible thing to do. Why were the actors all laughing at that funeral BTS footage if they were all so sad that Bobby was dead? None of it adds up.

What happened with the Bobby tributes that were posted on the official social media? And why didn’t Peter get a bigger send-off?

I just don’t understand any of this.

So…

Either Bobby is still alive and we’ll find out next season OR he’s really dead and it was really poorly handled.

Fourth: The Buddie factor.

DISCLAIMER: I still very much believe that Buddie is going canon. If you don’t like that, turn away now.

(A cut to save your dash)

I have seen more than enough evidence in season 8 that it is happening. You don’t have to believe me if you don’t want to. It’s important to follow your gut on this and I’m following mine.

But please, don’t blame me or other Buddie positive people for ‘making’ you believe they would happen in season 8. That is craziness. I turned off anon for now. I’ll probably keep it turned off for a while during this hiatus. If you want to be mad at me because of a TV-show? You can do it publicly.

I have been here since day one and I have seen much more dire season endings than this one when it comes to Buddie. I’m not throwing the towel into the ring now. At least we got a lot of scenes of them together in 8, which is more than in some other seasons. And this time we got actual Buddie build up, so I’m not going anywhere.

That being said, I know full well that there was a big Buddie problem in the back end of 8b.

The problem once again comes back to Bobby’s death. Oliver himself said in a recent interview that a lot of the personal storylines were sidelined because of the Bobby thing. It’s obvious from the beginning of 8B that they were planning on doing Buddie. Everything in the narrative was clearly leading us towards an 8B ending with one or two realisations. Instead the Bobby thing happened and derailed EVERYTHING.

It didn’t just derail Buddie, it also completely derailed Hen’s storyline and even Athena’s story.

I’m still confident in Buddie canon happening, because of the crazy upfronts interviews. Ali reminded me earlier that the upfronts are basically there to promote the next season of TV-shows.

So yeah, I’m still going to follow the narrative here and trust that Bobby’s death pushed Buddie into season 9, where they will tell us their full story. At least we didn’t end up with a half-assed love confession and then off screen development to come into full-fledged ‘together’ Buddie in season 9. That would have been my worst nightmare.

I loved the Buddie moments we got in 8x17 and the very few ones we got in the finale. I’ve seen people talk about how those moments in the finale were the same thing that we got seasons ago. I have to respectfully disagree here. That rescue scene? Buddie gold that was filmed with clear intent.

I was puzzled with Buck looking for a place of his own though. He only just moved in and he’s leaving again? I was hoping for a Buddie roommates era, but alas… it might not happen. I’m interested in seeing what will happen there.

Fifth: Eddie my love.

Eddie Diaz has been treated terribly this season. The man is my favourite character and I really thought we were going to get more focus on him in 8, but his story never truly went anywhere. To be fair, he was probably doomed since season 7 when Tim came up with the stupid Vertigo storyline. I don’t think Tim knew how to deal with the consequences of that storyline, so then he half-assed it by making Eddie first choose joy to only then move to Texas, a place where he never knew joy.

Then he was sidelined in 2 episodes and was only brought back in 8x16, to say two lines or something like that. 8x17 was a great Eddie episode, but it wasn’t enough.

I loved Eddie in the finale. The hero music they played when he came in to save the day? Epic. But then he went straight back to looking for flights to go back to Texas. I am disappointed about that to be honest. His whole journey was about finding joy and choosing joy. Instead Chimney decided for him and everyone else that the 118 wasn’t going to split up.

Now, I do think that Eddie was already 90% with his heart in LA and that he wouldn’t need a big push to stay. Chimney just helped him along. It just would have been nice to see him make the conscious decision to stay in LA, with his family and Buck, because he is happier there.

And suddenly he is already moving in? What about his Texas house? Did he sell it? It didn’t make any sense.

Side-note: Eddie looked absolutely gorgeous in this episode. I legit crashed out when he showed up to help out the 118. It took me a few minutes to get my brain back online.

Sixth: a few miscellaneous topics that threw me off.

Athena selling the house didn’t make a lick of sense to me. This was hers and Bobby’s dream house. She told her kids she wasn’t moving out and then she suddenly changes her mind? What were her motivations? It wasn’t clear at all.

The second Madney baby was suddenly just there? This is a clear example of yet another storyline botched up by Bobby’s death. There was no emotional pay-off in that last scene. And sure they called the baby after Bobby, but I felt nothing.

The only thing that made me cry in the episode was that wonderful Chimney speech. Kenny did a great job there.

In conclusion:

Either ABC sits down with Tim and lays down some rules he has to abide to for season 9 OR they ship him off to Nashville, so someone else with a more clear vision, sense of pacing and natural flair for good storytelling steps in to take over.

If Tim does go to Nashville, I hope he takes Kristen with him.

I’m 100% tuning in for season 9, since I still love these characters so much and I need to see what happens to them. I am not giving up my Buddie-truther ways after 7 seasons. I have faith in them. I’ve been here before with other ships. This isn’t anything new. 😋

But I’m definitely going to go into that season with a bit more caution if Tim will still be there as a showrunner.

[tawked]

If I'm being honest, I actually prefer the version of Jason Todd who had a whole arc where the trauma of being Robin during one of Batman's dumb and edgy eras drove him a lil nuts and made him violent, reckless, whatever.

It is a central plot point in A Death in the Family, a comic that while I actively believe no one should read because it is cartoonishly racist, some (me) consider pretty important to understanding the circumstances surrounding Jason Todd's death.

This is consistent with his appearances in earlier stories, forming a character arc wherein he becomes increasingly violent and reckless due to the trauma of his early childhood in poverty and the increasing exposure to violence inherent in being Robin, filtered through the strictly anti-Robin lens of writer Jim Starlin.

Batman #411, he has what is obviously a violent trauma response after finding out Two-Face single parentified his mother.

Batman #422, Batman needs to pull him off a pimp after said pimp threatened his bottom bitch.

Batman #424. I posted this once and someone told me with their whole chest they actually for real believed this dude slipped and Todd didn't kill him which is how I realized that there's a whole generation of Batman fans who do not recognize 1970s-80s action movie tropes. An extremely humbling moment for me lol.

Anyway, notice the sequential nature of the issue numbers.

Now, I sincerely do not want to be a bitch here, but I don't know how else to say this.

The reason Jason Todd is not a violent loose cannon in his earliest appearances, even post-Crisis, is that characters later in their arc are not the same as characters at the beginning of their arc.

These two dudes, who yes are the same dude, have very different relationships with the concept of violent revenge. One of them even cut his own head off in a spooky metaphor cave that taught him about how violent revenge means destroying a part of yourself. The other dude just saw his parents gettin weenie roasted and is mad about that. To reiterate my point, they are the same dude.

But in fandom we have this weird thing where we flat reject this concept of Jason by insisting that no, this characterization was just later writers like Marv Wolfman being haters and retroactively character assassinating him through Tim Drake or something.

We insist on who he was at the beginning of his arc as if he should not, could not, would not on a boat, could not, would not, should not with a goat, develop into anything but who he was at that moment. I have never seen anything else like it in comics or in other fandom. Character development that is just so flat rejected and avoided, in a medium where we usually celebrate development because characters are usually set more or less in stone until the next big reboot event.

And look, if I'm being absolutely honest with you, the smooth clean safe not a wildcard roundhouse kick freak version of Todd that fandom has created is so fucking boring to me.

He is, to me, by far the worst version of the character.

To me, Jason Todd was this Robin specifically:

Batman: The Cult.

That's not Dick Grayson. That's not TIm Drake. That's not Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Carrie Kelley, or whatever other version of Robin.

Jason Todd is the "alright you sorry clowns, let's party" Robin. He was written in line with a bunch of action movie and buddy cop tropes. A Death in the Family was straight up a "hand in your badge McKlinsky, you're a loose cannon" arc. And I just feel like the fandom desire to smooth that out of him, whatever the motivation behind it might be, is ultimately in service for a far more boring, more "in line with Dick Grayson and Tim Drake" version of a character who should never have been in line with Dick Grayson or Tim Drake.

[non-binary-lil-star]

I've been thinking a lot about this because I'm just starting college and ofc teachers talk a lot to us about not using chat gpt. My friends, as far as I know, don't use it to write projects or take notes. In fact, most of us take notes on notebooks (my teachers are really happy about that something about writing and not typing and all that)

HOWEVER I'm studying Human Sciences which has a HUGE amount of text we have to read. I'm talking hundreds of pages of articles and books every week for every class. So. Most if not all my friends use chat gpt to summarize the texts and then read the summarized version. I was beginning to see the benefits of this, until I saw a post kind of like this one and it got me thinking.

Before chat gpt students who had to read as much as us even as freshman or more, still got through it. There's labor in reading too. Fine, we won't be able to do it all, no one can, unless you're sleeping two nights a week. But even skimming through the pages has its merits. Chat gpt also really sucks at summarizing and can skip important things but that's really not the point here.

The point is that, that labor is crucial for people who want to work as professors and researchers. We are high school age kids mostly, facing texts that talk about very complicated philosophical, historical and sociological concepts. To face the language barrier of academia, reading as much as you can is necessary. Chat gpt won't help you understand academic language. In fact, it will hold you back.

"what did students do before chatgpt?" well one time i forgot i had a history essay due at my 10am class the morning of so over the course of my 30 minute bus ride to school i awkwardly used by backpack as a desk, sped wrote the essay, and got an A on it.

six months later i re-read the essay prior to the final exam, went 'ohhhh yeah i remember this', got a question on that topic, and aced it.

point being that actually doing the work is how you learn the material and internalize it. ChatGPT can give you a short cut but you won't build you the the muscles.

[transboyswitchytales]

A Proposition

Professor Wanda Maximoff x Reader Student

Part 1, 2, 3, this is 4!

Hurt/Comfort/ FLUFFFFFF

Wanda has a nightmare, and you two have an early morning together. A sunrise and a new day is sure to take the pain away.

( Mommy kink, 18+ Will block you if under 18) It's really just fluff. Tooth rotting fluff, not just from the sweets they eat.

PS: This is really for the sweet and always supportive @franfineashell Without this lovely human, there would never have even been a part 2. It's her support that has me writing Wanda fics. So thank you a million times over for reading my silly shit and commenting. It's why I'm writing this at 3 am. You are the best.

My Masterlist

You heard her scream and jerked awake. Blinking rapidly, you couldn’t see in the dark at first, but your eyes adjusted quickly as Wanda thrashed in bed. 

You knew where you were ,and your eyes fell to your girlfriend. 

You grabbed her arm and she screamed and cried. Oh god, your heart broke at the sound. You started to shake her. 

“Wanda, baby, wake up. It’s a bad dream.” You say, and she’s quaking, but her eyes snap open. 

“What, oh god. Please, no, no .”

“Wanda, sweetie, it’s me. You are safe, it’s just a nightmare. You are at home, you are in bed. I’m right here. It’s all ok.” You tell her the facts, hoping it’ll ground her. Wanda was prone to nightmares, you were getting better at bringing her down from them. 

Wanda’s hands came up to your face, and she cupped your jaw and stared at you. Leaning down, you work the warm pads of your thumbs to wipe her tears. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of you. 

Of your touch, the feeling of your hands, the solid mass that was your body in bed with her. 

Wanda opened her eyes and studied you again. 

“I think this calls for a snack.” You whisper, and Wanda’s breath shakes a little, and she nods once. You know, after a particularly awful nightmare, Wanda doesn’t go back to sleep right away. You’d made the mistake once, rolling her onto her side and making her be little spoon. You cradled her from behind, arms wrapped securely. You were just about to fall back asleep when you felt her shake slightly. Your alarm bells went off, you’d been an expert in past relationships with the silent sob. That special type of cry where no sound comes out, and in the very act of silently sobbing next to someone, a part of you feels like it’s dying. Because the person next to you, feels a million miles away. And you are putting yourself in a box so they don’t have to deal with your tears. 

You turned so fast in that bed and flipped the light on. Shifting Wanda onto her back, you saw the tears. She’d apologized, and you’d kissed her and rocked her against your chest. Wanda had obviously never experienced a love like yours. Because as big as she loved you, you loved her back. 

There was something so insanely intimate about being loved and cherished in return. You’d never experienced it, and neither had she. 

Wanda was older than you, though not by a large number. There were times when the age was clearly not the same. There were times where language barriers made communication take a little longer. There were moments where being a student and a college professor made you have different opinions. 

But your love made everything that made you both different, so much sweeter. 

You might both be bambi at times in this love. But there was a language you both spoke for each other. Just like that finals week. 

I want to understand you,

I study your obscure language.

Alexander Pushkin that fucking Russian poet nailed it. You learned each other, you’d never watched Dick Van Dyke before. Wanda had never listened to Brandi Carlile. Both of these things were trivial, past partners wouldn’t take the time. But you understood that the little things that made Wanda, your Wanda, were important. 

So you watched the sitcoms, and you understood Wanda better. She didn’t have a childhood or stability. These stories where nothing terrible happens, this was her comfort, her safety. 

You watched every episode, and one day, you caught Wanda watching you instead of the grey TV screen. 

“You actually like this.” She’d said, and your heart broke. Why had no one ever taken the time to learn Wanda? 

But you were a hypocrite. Because one day, Wanda was on your phone and you were confused. So you looked over her shoulder, expecting, like previous relationships, that she was going through your texts. People before had been jealous and controlling, endlessly manipulative. So you’d assumed the worst. 

Only to see Wanda holding her phone next to yours. She was adding your playlists to her Spotify. While you were busy studying Wanda, she’d been busy learning you, too. 

You both were becoming fluent in how to love each other. Not just the way that made you feel good, but that broke through to the deepest parts of Wanda. So that you could support each other in hard times, and cherish each other in the moments that make relationships. When you came into the apartment one day you’d been so floored to hear Brandi playing on the speaker. Not because you’d put it on. But because Wanda missed you and put it on. Your heart exploded a million times over. 

So it made sense in moments like this. 

With a teary Wanda, that you’d learned her language. You got off the bed slowly, keeping the lights off. Wanda had never heard of the word ‘overstimulation’ but when you’d taught it to her, she’d understood. Turns out the feeling was universal and not just a word said in English. 

So you kept the lights off. You threaded your fingers in hers. Wanda loved holding your hand. You think it was because she’d been too late to hold Pietro’s when he died. And that her parents died young, and she didn’t get the comfort and reassurance that comes from two hands meeting. 

So you held Wanda’s hand at every opportunity. And you saw in those moments, Wanda relax, find strength, courage, and the reminder of your love for her. You held Wanda through every feeling. 

So she got out of bed, wiping the last of her tears with the back of her free hand, you guided her behind you out of the bedroom. Going into the kitchen, you walked over to the oven light and turned it on. It was low and not too much for the early morning. 

You pushed her to the counter gently, and you tapped it twice, instructing her to sit on it. It wasn’t Wanda’s style to sit on the kitchen counter. It was way more your style in fact as she talked about her day, you’d put your ass up on there. The first time you saw Wanda stop and think if she wanted to kick you off of it. 

You saw the cogs turn in her mind and waited. Wondering if this was something that made Wanda uncomfortable or something that was a learned behavior. Was this Wanda, or was this her experiences?

Her ex-husband, Vision, had been almost robotic; his OCD and life trauma invaded every aspect of his tortured linear mind. You’d never fault his mental illness. 

You did fault his need to control Wanda. To put her in a box and make her small. He wanted a pretty suburban wife, but quiet, so quiet that all she could do was serve dinner and play house. No opinions, he wanted a grey cut out of a woman. 

He’d never seen Wanda Maximoff. 

Wanda was so big, bright, and beautiful. She scrunched her nose in a signature adorable fashion when she teased you or you said some dirty joke that she couldn’t suppress her enjoyment of. Wanda sang in the shower, loudly, and could make anyone who tried to debate her on politics weep. Wanda was quick witted and determined. She wasn’t some two dimensional character, not a secondary character in a mans story, fuck no. 

 Wanda might seem small when she’s curled up on the sofa to read. But she had an army-sized bundle of trauma. Wanda had seen more than most people ever see in life, death, and war, yes, heartbreak of course. But she’d read mountains of books, traveled all over, and experienced life in such vivid, monumental ways. That when Wanda had decided to teach, it wasn’t because she couldn’t ‘do.’ Because she had done so much. And she’d wanted to inspire others to experience life. To fall in love with words the way she had, the way books and stories had saved her. 

Wanda had decided that day that she liked you on her countertops. Wanda had decided she liked your mess and the way you took up space. 

So, at four am on a Thursday, you waited for her. 

You eyed your strong and independent girlfriend again softly, not over intensely. You’d learned enough to know Wanda’s tells. 

You patted the counter, and Wanda lifted herself up and sat on it. Yeah, that was growth, because Wanda had never sat on a kitchen counter in her life. But she was. 

Wanda was in full color, and you bent down and kissed both of her knees. You didn’t linger in the moment as you turned to get to work in her kitchen. 

You didn’t want to put Wanda on the sofa, that was too far from you. And you knew the nightmare images hadn’t left her yet. Sticking like fly paper against her eyelids, that wouldn’t do. 

So you went to the pantry for a secret stash of sweets. 

You’d learned that your elderly girlfriend liked butterscotch pudding. It was by far the most geriatric of desserts. You’d teased her affectionately for it, saying ‘at least when we’re in the old folks home, you’ll be stocked.’ 

But Wanda liked it, so you bought it. You couldn’t believe how shocked she looked when you pulled it out of the grocery bag. 

‘I study your obscure language.’

You pulled out the milk. Because, for some reason, Wanda wasn’t lactose intolerant like you. Which still didn’t make sense, maybe it was because she wasn’t from the US. Anyway, you took the saucepan and you started to hum. It was soft and low, but you knew what it did to Wanda. 

You don’t need to turn to see Wanda smiling at you. You move over to her expensive coffee machine and start to brew. 

Wanda didn’t need to be taken care of, she didn’t require it. She’d dried plenty of her own tears. In fact, if Wanda was in the talking mood, you knew she’d be more inclined to be the caretaker. She was a domme, a top in and out of the bedroom. Wanda opened doors and demanded to pay, she liked your submission and enjoyed doting on you in all forms. But that was what made these moments so intense and special. 

Because Wanda didn’t let anyone do this, she let you see her like this. Wanda gave you this, allowed the intimacy of these nights, mornings, weekends. Where she let you give. And it was beautiful. 

You sing as you pour the milk in. Before grabbing butter and the chocolate chips, flour, brown sugar, cane sugar, the list went on. 

You sing through the cold air. 

‘You've got to grind, grind, grind at that grindstone

Though child'ood slips like sand through a sieve

And all too soon they've up and grown

And then they've flown

And it's too late for you to give

Just that spoonful of sugar to 'elp the medicine go down

The medicine go down, medicine go down’

You sing and then move to grab two coffee cups above the cupboard. You knew which one was Wanda’s favorite. You didn’t ever use it, you pushed it under her machine, and then found the one you’d stolen. It had a picture of Ilya Repin, the famous Russian painter. You liked him now because of Wanda. So you were happy to see his mustache in the mornings. 

You hummed the rest of the lyrics before you pressed buttons on the oven. Wanda cleared her throat. You understood she found her voice, and she’s collected herself enough to talk to you. But you don’t look at her, no spotlight needed; she knew you were listening. 

“You do like Dick Van Dyke.” She whispers in the cool night, in the dim light of the kitchen, with the person who loves her more than words can say. More than Alexander Pushkin, Julie Andrews, Mary Tyler Moore, or even Mr. Dick Van Dyke could understand. 

“He’s an icon and has never made anything bad, even if he gave us a terrible British accent.” You say as you pour the right amount of milk for her coffee. You take out a teaspoon, stirring it before you turn on your heel and walk slowly in between Wanda’s thighs. 

She takes the coffee and smiles into the cup, consuming a long sip. She’d made you give up energy drinks since the great library fiasco. So now you both drank coffee, every now and then tea at night to sleep, but coffee was your thing. Wanda made a happy noise at the taste. Coffee fixed everything. 

You put two hands on her knees and run your fingers up the outside of her thighs, soothing her. Wanda takes another sip before putting the cup down to the side. You wait patiently for your payment. Wanda knows it too, she looks pleased at your demand. Taking her fingers, she goes under your chin, teasing your skin before hooking behind your neck and bringing you to her waiting, wanting, lips. 

You kiss and it’s delicious like brown sugar. It’s soothing and sweet, it’s coming home after a long day. It’s kissing your best friend after decades of waiting. Kissing Wanda is better than anything and everything you’ll ever experience in this lifetime and the next. 

Wanda seems to feel the same as she overlaps her ankles around you and pulls you closer, deeper into her loving embrace. You could think of no better cave to grow old in. Wanda’s kisses are full of devotion and longing. Your head feels fuzzy as you don’t remember to breathe through your nose, you just be with her. 

Your mind is gone on vacation, toes curling, body erupting in goosebumps. Even after all of this time of kissing. 

It doesn’t matter. 

You can only hear one note.

Wanda. 

You are alarmed when the oven beeps and the kiss ends. Wanda is breathing heavily, and you realize she’s just as gone as you. Her lips are flushed and her face is red. She looks positively pornographic. 

“Malysh, I thought you were making pudding and coffee? Why is the oven on? And why is it interrupting our kiss?” Wanda looks like she’s pouting, which is funny because she’d never admit to pouting. You laugh and pull away from her, and she tries to grab your ar,m but you are faster. 

Going to the clean dishwasher, you open it and pull out a mixing bowl. 

“My girlfriend needs pudding, yes, of course. But also, she secretly loves these brown butter chocolate chip cookies I make. Annnd I know for a fact your period is starting soon and you love them.” You tell her, and Wanda licks her lips at the memor,y and you take it as a huge compliment. 

“The ones with the-” Wanda remembers, and you answer for her. 

“Sea salt, yup those ones.” You say, and you put the pudding mix into the warmed milk. Before getting out another pot for the butter. 

At one point, you go over to the living room and pick up a book Wanda had been reading while you were working on your essay. You hand her the book and she eyes it curiously. 

“Read to me?”

It was a thing for you two. It was intimacy of the prettiest melody. The sound of each other's voice and a good book, nothing tops it. Sorry Brandi and Dick, but it was something that made your heart sing. Wanda didn’t need to be asked twice, she understood your language. 

So she read aloud and you tried not to look surprised when she sat criss cross on the countertop, her sock feet now up on the kitchen surface. You were making history tonight, it seemed. 

When you put the pudding in the fridge and the cookies in the oven. You worked on the dishes and sipped your own coffee. Bending your neck to the side to pop it. 

Wanda eyed you and stopped reading, and you turned to her with a sour face. 

“Hey, Mrs. Audible, I’m not done with my audiobook. What are you doing?” You tell your girlfriend. But when her face grows sad, you are further confused. 

“You should go to bed, baby, it’s like five am. You’ve been up too long wit-”

“Hey, I’m spending very precious time with the woman I love. And the wee hours of the morning are not to be taken for granted. When the light comes up-” You use a wet fork to point to the window to the right. “It’ll come through there and it hits your auburn hair just right. And it turns this warm golden color, and your eyes…Well there’s nothing like it. So I’m gonna stay right here until I get my morning show. Then I’m going to make you, make us that omelet you saw online. But first, I want my audiobook back, and if my domme behaves, I’ll feed you cookies and teach you something truly sinful. But only if you read to me, the way only you can.” You flirt with Wanda, and her face morphs into pure love.

 She nibbles her bottom lip, you know that’s her sign, she wants to kiss you. But she gulps, licks her top lip, before opening the book back up and finding her place. 

Wanda reads to you, and you, in turn, finish the dishes. The cookies don’t take long, they have to be soft just the way Wanda likes them. You pull them out and you refill Wanda’s coffee. 

You take out the pudding and put it in a small ramekin. Then plate the big cookies, and you don’t have to invite Wanda. She’s been practically drooling, and you weren’t sure if it was because of your lack of bottoms or your baking. But you were going to try not to fight for her attention with a pastry. 

You both walked to the sofa. Wanda didn’t need you to tell her to grab your favorite throw blanket. Just like you didn’t have to ask her for the salt anymore, or ask if she had an extra pair of wool socks. Wanda just handed things to you wordlessly now, her extra pair of sunglasses while she drives, the aux cord, the ketchup packet. Wanda was just that good. 

She smoothed it out, and you broke your usual cuddle puddle. You sat facing her, and she arched an eyebrow but mirrored your body. Both of you sitting facing each other, leaning your side against the back of the sofa, with crisscrossed legs. 

She puts the blanket in the middle of you both so it covers your chronically cold feet. And she covers her lap too, which you know is because she can touch you under the blanket more easily. She did it so subtly, a hand on your inner thigh, her knee against yours, a foot against your calf. Wanda’s touch was a constant source of comfort for your winter-cold bones. An ache she alone soothed. 

“Professor, are you ready to be schooled?” You tell her seriously, and Wanda tries not to snort in laughter. 

“Please, teach me your ways, sugar junkie.” 

You didn’t take offense at the nickname. You simply took a big cookie off the plate. Showing it to her like you were teaching brain surgery. She eyed the cookie and looked at you like you were being ridiculous. 

But you turned the cookie down into the bowl and dipped it and she scoffed. 

“You did not just dip a cookie in pudding,” Wanda worded like you’d committed a felony.  You chewed and used your pinkie on the hand holding the cookie to brush the crumb off your lip. 

“You cannot knock it until you try it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You think I’d steer you wrong?”

“I remember the taste of cherry slushie.”

“It’s not my fault Sokovia failed to have a 7-Eleven! That country failed you, your loving girlfriend is just trying to help. Now don’t be a whimp! You really are going to shy away from your two favorite desserts?” You pressure her, and she squints at you. You give her a look that is simply put as ‘I dare you.’ Wanda grabs a cookie, not breaking her stare.

She slowly dunks it and then bites it. 

Wanda’s eyes fall shut, and she moans. 

“Oh wow, right about Lana Del Rey, right about the talented Margaret Atwood. And I’m right about pudding and cookies. You know, I think you should adopt the cis man mentality.” You bait her, and Wanda coughs on her cookie and looks taken aback. 

“Which is what? Wearing Crocs to grocery stores? You want me to start drinking light beer?” Wanda jokes, and you break and giggle at the idea of her doing either of those things. Before you collect yourself once more. 

“No, the whole ‘my wife is always right.’ That really condescending ‘happy wife, happy life.’ You gotta start that shit, because I haven’t been wrong.”

Wanda glares at you, and you remember. 

“Ok, yes, the slushie and I really thought Disney Channel movies were going to age well, and some didn’t. Hocus Pocus did, though, and you liked that. But yes, some things were hit and miss. I’d like to remind you of the feeldoe.” You reminded her of the sex toy, and Wanda’s face broke into a dirty grin at the memory of the recently purchased toy. 

“That was a good rebuttal,” Wanda said and then stopped looking at her cookie. “Are we double dippers?” You tried not to laugh at Wanda’s question. You’d told her the biggest rude thing to do at a party was double-dip. And she’d remembered it as one of your pet peeves. You hadn’t brought it up in months, and she still remembered. Fucking Wanda Maximoff, man. 

“You’ve spit in my mouth and pussy, I think you can double dip your cookie.” You say crudely, and in the first month, Wanda would have choked on her own spit at your words. But now she just looked at you with this mischievous grin, at the memory, before double-dipping her cookie. 

Three cookies in, and you were full as you leaned behind you to the side table to sip at your coffee. The dawn was just starting to turn the sky a lighter shade of blue.

 It wasn’t full to glow yet. And Wanda turned to see you eyeing the slow morning transforming. 

Time was funny. Past, you never could have imagined a world where you felt safe. Where your college professor was your supposed one-night stand. Where you’d see Wanda again? 

You couldn’t imagine the melancholy of the future, where you’d remember this time. Where you’d want these small moments with Wanda back. Because the future would be different.

 You saw Wanda in it, of course you did. But you also saw kids, maybe a son? You saw a house with a yard, a garden, and a dog. Life would grow, and you’d remember this moment then. When you woke your lover from a nightmare. Where you made her a snack and you stole time like a thief. You stole a morning of kisses and whispers. You’d never be in this moment, ever again. And you were missing it already. 

Wanda’s hand found yours, but you didn’t say anything. Staring out the window, the steam from Wanda's and your coffee wafts up. 

The present version of you couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a morning. 

Wanda squeezed your hand, and you broke your thoughts to stare at her. 

“Play something?” She requested.

You felt like you were in a movie now. How did Wanda know?

“Now?” You asked knowing the answer and she gave you a gaze that said ‘don’t play coy.’ So you moved off the sofa, placing your coffee down. You ran to the bedroom, grabbing your phone. You walked back inside and you turned on her sound system. Connecting to the familiar Bluetooth that you named ‘Mama’s jukebox.’ 

You hesitated over a song before you went for something else. Wanda stood and grabbed just under your elbow. 

“No, pick the one you wanted first,” Wanda told you, and your soul flared deep inside. So you went back to it. You pressed ‘Runaway’ by Aurora. Throwing the phone onto the sofa and you closed your eyes. Like the lyrics and looking into Wanda’s eyes were too much. 

The song was loud, and you momentarily hoped the neighbors weren’t gonna be mad. But the lyrics hit you with such intensity, you felt naked now. 

I was listenin' to the ocean

I saw a face in the sand

But when I picked it up

Then it vanished away from my hands, 

I had a dream I was seven

Climbin' my way in a tree

I saw a piece of heaven

Waitin' impatient for me, 

Wanda grabbed your hips and she pulled you closer. You swayed and her forehead rested on yours. And you let out a shaky breath. 

Wanda was slow dancing with you at five am. And you’d never felt more seen by another person. 

And I was runnin' far away

Would I run off the world someday?

Nobody knows, nobody knows

And I was dancing in the rain

I felt alive and I can't complain

But no, take me home

Take me home where I belong

I can't take it anymore

You heard Wanda intake of a sharp breath. And you realized she wasn’t just slow dancing, just romancing you with her hips. She was listening to the lyrics. She heard you. 

Wanda was your home now. 

I was painting a picture

The picture was a painting of you

And for a moment I thought you were here

But then again, it wasn't true, dah

And all this time I have been lyin'

Oh, lyin' in secret to myself

I've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf

La-di-da

“My love, open your eyes. I’m not going to hurt you.” Wanda whispered and you did and you saw only love shining back. And you kissed her hard as she pulled your hips to hers. You dive into her, and she catches your every movement. Kissing you and swaying you gently. Rocking your body like she was the keeper of your battered and beaten heart. Your love, your best friend, your protector. Wanda kissed you, and you felt it in every square inch of your body. 

And I was runnin' far away

Would I run off the world someday?

Nobody knows, nobody knows

And I was dancing in the rain

I felt alive and I can't complain

But no, take me home

Take me home where I belong

I got no other place to go

No, take me home

Take me home where I belong

I got no other place to go

No, take me home

Take me home where I belong

I can't take it anymore

Your phone interrupts your main character rom-com dance. Wanda doesn’t release your hips but you both stop kissing and dancing. You sigh, frustrated and leave her grasp and you feel Wanda’s fingers hold you until the last possible second. Like the limbs of a haunted tree in a storm claw against a windowpane. 

You feel her against your lips and her hands even after you walk away from her embrace. She’s burned into you. 

You pause your extremely revealing song to see Darcy texted you. You sit on the sofa and read her extremely long message. Wanda seems to be nervous, her weight shifting from foot to foot. 

Wanda’s playing with her fingers, and you’ve seen this a handful of times. But you don’t question her. 

You text Darcy back first, knowing she's probably a tad stoned. It started off with a sex question and somehow turned into a question about her essay for Lit. And you easily answered both questions and did a quick Google search so you could send her a good source. For the link on F. Scott Fitzgerald. Not the sex question, that was just about multiple orgasms, and you answered that one easily without using a search engine. 

You saw Wanda look out the window and then heard her make a noise that was something between frustration and wonder. You send the message and set your iPhone on the coffee table. 

Looking up, you see the first bright rays of morning. They’re teasing the sky, not yet awake. But their hue is somewhere between a VW bug’s yellow and an orange that could only be described as a creamsicle ice pop. You look at the window with a sense of peace you’d only just discovered from loving Wanda. 

She turned, and you saw how serious she looked. Not the same face you had from the sunrise. But she crosses the distance, putting the pudding and cookie plate onto the coffee table quickly and sitting close to you. 

“Baby?” You say concerned. 

“I have a proposal for you.” She says serious and you try to lighten the mood. 

“Uh oh.” You make a fake worried look, and Wanda laughs outright. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She is playing along, but you see the tension in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry, the last proposal you ‘proposed’ was for us to start juicing and you got that juicer and we did like mountains of celery and it made a thimble of juice. So, forgive me if a five am proposal has me a little hesitant. I’m sorry, baby, you tell me, I’m all ears. What’s your proposal?” You tell her, and you see she’s a bit more at ease now. Remembering who you are and how you talk to her. It makes her shoulders relax, and she looks more sure.

“Move in with me.” 

You blink. Not seeing that coming. 

“What?” You feel like you might be dreaming now. And Wanda, the sweetheart, she is. She doesn’t take your initial shock as a negative. She pushes through and grabs both your hands in hers. Wanda has this look in her eyes, and you’d seen it before now. But now you could place it, you saw it in her office that day. You saw it when she bought you a drink. God, what a woman.

Wanda’s eyes were shining now, and she declared her love like it was the only chance she’d ever get. 

Because this morning was quickly becoming day.

And another moment that would be a memory. 

And Wanda wasn’t going to let this morning pass without saying it.  

“Move in with me, you don’t need the dorm. You don’t even like going to the dorm. And the majority of your stuff is here-but that’s not why it’s not a convenience thing, god. No, it’s so much more than that.  What I mean is that I can’t spend another moment in this apartment without you. What I’m saying is I want you in every corner of my life. I am so in love with you. I love you more than I thought someone could love another person. It’s not the sex, which is mind-blowing. It’s not that you let me pick the shows at night, or that you actually enjoy them. Which is- wow. No, it’s that when I come into the bathroom and I don’t find your hair in the sink, I’m upset now. It’s a proposal for you to move in, yes, but it’s more than that. I need you. I need you everywhere, all over me, all the time. It’s not just the last few boxes of your stuff that is at your dorm, that belong here. I want to grow old with you, and I want to trip over your shoes that you refuse to put away in the closet. I want you forever. I thought I’d been scared before. I’d seen war and bloodshed. I’ve lost so many people. I can’t lose you. I won’t be scared and hold back what I know to be true. Is that you are it for me, the end of it all. No searching or wondering what life is going to look like, it’s you. For as long as I live, you will be it.”

You took a breath at the end of her words. Not realizing you’d held it the whole time she spoke. God, you never thought you’d get your When Harry Met Sally speech. And here she was. 

Looking better than Billy Crystal in his knit sweater. 

It was Wanda. 

But you couldn’t not tease her. So you hid your emotions and asked her very seriously’

“Wanda, if this is just because you like my brown butter chocolate chip cookies-” Wanda laughs and then leans over and kisses you hard. You are crying, and she is crying, and it’s a mess. Because you taste like cookies and coffee, and you can only hear the ringing of ‘forever’ with Wanda in your ears. 

Wanda pulls away and she wipes your tears now. 

“I’m not crying.” You lie, and it’s stupid because she doesn’t love you superficially. You don’t cry like an Instagram model, and she doesn’t want that. Wanda loves you, and your snot bubbles, too. 

“You cry for me Malysh,” Wanda says, and you sniffle. 

“I love you.” You whimper through more tears. Wanda nods and grins, and you brush away her tears again. You two would need to buy tissues after you moved all your shit. 

“So is that a yes to my proposal?” Wanda teases you, already knowing from your response. 

“Oh my god, yes. Stop, what are you like into me or something?” You tease, and Wanda pinches your side, and you giggle and hug her around her neck. Wanda places a million kisses against your cheek.

You end up back in your bed with the window wide open and sunlight casting its gorgeous rays over the bed and blanketing over your cuddling bodies. 

Wanda was tracing invisible patterns on your arm. Your legs were tangled, and you were facing one another, noses touching as you stared at her. You couldn’t believe people actually cuddled like this until Wanda. 

Because you wanted to breathe her air, and stare at her. Wanda and you whispered in the bed, secrets for only the other to hear in the early morning light. 

“Wanda?” You asked her, and she looked at you patiently. 

“Yes, my love?” She softly whispers back in your cocoon of light and cuddles. 

“Will you tell me what your nightmare was?” 

You don’t usually ask because when Wanda told you, it was so gruesome. So much blood and violence. Her parents' corpses and her brother lying in a morgue. But it had hurt her so bad this morning, and you were asking so maybe you could help in the future. It was a long shot, but maybe you could?

Wanda smiled a sad smile, before she answered. 

“You left.”

It sat there cold. Wanda’s hand stopped, and it came up to cup your cheek. 

You couldn’t believe it. 

War and death, so much horror, and what brought your lover to her knees this morning was you leaving. That was what had frightened her to thrashing, screaming, and crying.

 Wanda’s gaze didn’t shift, she wasn’t afraid. She’d told you the truth. It was her fear, her worst fear. And you bit your lip and shook your head. 

“Wanda, no.” You say and you don’t have to say more as Wanda gives you the most sorrow-filled mile you’d ever seen someone muster. 

“That’s my waking nightmare.” She admits, and you kiss her slowly before pulling back so she can see your face. 

“You brought me home. I’m not going anywhere.” You say so gently something snaps in Wanda, and she kisses you hard, and her hands fall into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to her. 

The song echoed in both of your minds. 

No, take me home

Take me home where I belong

I got no other place to go

No, take me home, home where I belong, 

[dollbrbie]

could you go into detail about why you don’t plan on writing mma!sae with kids? sorry if you’ve answered this before i’m just curious

i get why this question comes up a lot since it’s hinted at kids at few times with their text messages post and sae’s breeding kink / the fact he thinks about having them during their pregnancy scare.

but i imagine before that, sae didn’t want kids. he just doesn’t seem the type to me to want them, and with him being an mma fighter he’s just way too busy to have them. i do think that he would be open to them after meeting you / the reader, but i also think he wouldn’t mind not having them, being perfectly content with his life as a married man with no kids.

it’s one of those things that with the way i wrote him, it could go either way so i wanted to leave kids open ended! i also wanted to take into account that there’s a lot of women who don’t want kids, myself included. i think sae would appreciate that and wouldn’t expect his wife to put her body through something so traumatic to give him a kid. especially when he knows he probably wouldn’t do that either.

however, he’d be so appreciative if you ever did! he’d make sure he’d be so present throughout the pregnancy and prioritising you. but i can only imagine this when he’s a little older, and plans on retiring from being an mma fighter soon. his job is very demanding and if he was going to have kids, he’d want as much time as possible to be there for you and his child!

he’s the kinda guy who’s like “it’s up to you if we have kids, it’s your body so it’s your choice.”

i hope that explained things better since i have answered this before but my explanation wasn’t as thorough!! i understand where the questions come from but it’s pretty important to me that i don’t decide for him or the reader that they will or won’t have kids!! it’s completely up to you guys and if you would want kids or not - and if you’re unsure that’s fine too! sae would be there to reassure you that it’s completely down to you and that there’s no pressure. he’d 100% help you through your worries <3

꒰ mma!sae m.list ꒱

[dareyoutoread-blog]

I walked away from the last three episodes of “Andor” feeling disappointed - and not because the baby reveal was a poorly foreshadowed cash grab mostly irrelevant to the story they’d been telling (and also one more instance of terrible, inconsistent writing for Bix), but for another, much deeper story reason:

In what was otherwise 90% a great show, “Andor” does not stick the landing of its main character’s emotional arc.

Here’s why the ending isn’t quite resonating - why it feels emotionally “off” to some viewers:

They created 2/3 of a very compelling arc:

1. Cassian hates Luthen. He hates the way he uses people; discards them when they become a liability.

2. Cassian understands Luthen. He respects what Luthen has had to do - what he has had to become - the sacrifices he has made to keep the Rebellion alive.

And what should come next, knowing what we know about the Cassian we meet in the next film?

3. Cassian becomes just like Luthen…and he hates himself for it.

This is the the Cassian we meet at the beginning of Rogue One - he is angry - and while we aren’t given a full explanation, so much of it seems to be anger at what he has had to become to help the Rebellion succeed.

…But the Cassian we see at the end of “Andor” just isn’t quite carrying that same anger.

Due to time jumps, we’ve missed seeing the “things he’s had to do.” We’ve missed the character development that makes his decision not to shoot Galen Erso feel like a big deal and not just another “on Tuesday, we disobey orders” for him.

Sure, they technically landed the plot of the show “right before Rogue One”…but they failed to land the main character there in an emotional sense.

When your outer and inner arcs don’t match, you’ve failed at one of the most important parts of emotionally resonant storytelling, and you leave your audience feeling strangely unfulfilled, even if they can’t put their finger on why.