#or how else will we learn to treat women like people

[majorbaby]

no more long rambly rants. i am just going to start killing misogynists.

[whydoifeelthisquiet]

I’m going to say it

[masterhallmark]

Rant incoming

I feel like the problem with a lot of Disney's live action remakes (and arguably Wish) is they're trying to appeal to a crowd that no longer exists, namely the people who used to claim that the Disney Princesses were sexist.

All the interviews tend to include, "Well she's not chasing a MAN anymore" which...almost no one sees the princesses like that, anymore. Virtually NO ONE still believes the princesses are man-chasing sexist caricatures of women.

Cinderella is now hailed as an abuse victim who stayed strong long enough to get help to get out of her situation. Anyone who says she should have saved herself is basically regarded as a victim blamer. And it's very clear in the film she wasn't looking to marry the prince, she just wanted a night off. She was the only one who wasn't in line to meet him. She didn't find out she met the prince until he went looking for her!

Snow White is now hailed for her negotiation skills, ability to calm down after extreme stress (she had a moment of panic and had to cry for a bit, but who wouldn't after finding out The Queen hired someone to kill you?), and ability to take charge of a house of adult men. And again, she was an abuse victim, this time trying to escape ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS. While she dreamed of her prince, it was secondary to her main goal of SURVIVAL. There are also entire video essays about how Snow White gave hope to people during The Great Depression.

Everyone acknowledges that Ariel wanted to be human BEFORE meeting Eric. We all know she was a nerd hyperfixating on humans, and also standing up to her prejudiced father.

We understand Sleeping Beauty wasn't the main character, the Three Good Fairies were, AND PHILLIP WOULD NEVER HAVE BEATEN MALEFICENT WITHOUT THEM! He literally depended on them! WOMEN SAVED THE DAY! But even then, is it really such a sin for a girl to fantasize about romance and fall for someone with corny pickup lines?

We all understand Jasmine just wanted someone to treat her LIKE A PERSON. She rejected every Prince before Aladdin because they treated her like a prize. So why did they need her to want to be Sultan? How did that make her more feminist when she already wanted to be treated like an equal and have a say in her future? Is it only empowering if you want a career in politics?

We admire that Belle, despite living in a judgemental village, was kind to everyone (even though she found the village life dull), and her story teaches girls that the guy everyone else loves isn't always a good guy. What's sexist about teaching girls about red flags? And she didn't start being nice to The Beast until he started treating her with respect and kindness.

Do I really NEED to defend Mulan or Tiana? I think they speak for themselves.

Rapunzel was yet another abuse victim who just needed a little help to get out of her bad situation. In this case, she also needed to learn that she was an abuse victim, and that what Mother Gothel did WASN'T normal, much like many victims of gaslighting.

And don't get me started on the non-princess animals.

Perdita had a healthy relationship with Pongo to the point she was open to express her pregnancy fears to him, and was ready to TEAR APART Cruella's goons for daring to touch her puppies as well as adopting the other puppies. Like, she was so ferocious the goons mistook her for a hyena! She's basically that "I AM THAT GIRL'S MOTHER!" scene from SpyXFamily if Yor were a dog. She and her husband were a TEAM.....but they made a Cruella live action to turn her into a girlboss?! The literal animal abuser!? THAT'S the woman you wanted to put on a pedestal when Perdita was RIGHT THERE!?

Duchess kept her kittens calm after they had been catnapped and was classy as heck. Nice to everyone regardless of social class during a time period where that was uncommon.

Lady stood up to Tramp when she believed he had abandoned her and didn't really care about her. She found out he was a heartbreaker and was like, "Nuh uh. No. You are not doing that to me! You put me through enough."

Miss Bianca from The Rescuers was IN CHARGE the whole movie, and was willing to risk life and limb to save an innocent child. THAT TINY MOUSE TOOK ON ALLIGATORS! And she picked Bernard to accompany her because he was the only one who wasn't ogling her. And then in the sequel SHE DID IT ALL AGAIN! I wish I were as brave as her.

Like, the public haven't accused these ladies of being sexist caricatures since 2014 (Actresses and actors don't count, they're out of touch like the rest of Hollywood) yet Disney is operating under the assumption that the public still thinks that way, hence all the "sHe'S nOt AfTeR a MaN iN ThIs VeRsIOn" talk.

The live action remakes are trying to attract an audience that doesn't really exist much, anymore, and back when it did exist, was comprised mainly of people who didn't actually watch the films. The Disney princesses are no longer seen as sexist, and feminine qualities are no longer seen as weak or undesirable.

[benegesseritofficial]

The effects of face paint on Harrowhark's psyche

I've now cosplayed Gideon Nav 3 times, with my wife along as Harrow every time. Naturally, this has included full face paint for both of us each time and I have some thoughts.

Let me start by asserting that everything Muir writes in TLT about the face paint is accurate. Rubbing off your lips first, smearing into gray where the black and white meet, the way sweat makes it ooze but not run. I can't say if Muir (a known Homestuck) ever cosplayed as a troll, but I'm positive she tested out the practicality of the skull face paint or otherwise has first hand experience with extensive use of grease paint. Also, the way she describes normal people flinching when they see you is spot on.

I've noticed while putting on the make up that once most of my skin is covered, any flesh tones sticking out start to become unsettling. Specifically, the red/pink of the inner mouth and around the eyes jump out upsettingly. Every time I've done skull paint I find myself meticulously trying to patch over these edges of skin, despite knowing that it's inside skin that Shouldn't Have Make Up On It. Once my face is monochrome, I don't want to be able to see a scrap of real human under there. Smiling, or otherwise opening your mouth wide enough to see the pink, looks UNSETTLING. My own skin causes the uncanny valley effect. You see where this is going. In NtN we learn Harrowhark disassociates often enough that Crux isn't surprised or concerned to see "Harrow" insisting she's someone else. Obviously this is due to her schizophrenia, and perhaps trauma besides. But it doesn't account for every aspect of why Harrow's "like that." On her most lucid days Harrow ignores her body to the point of sweating blood and passing out. She goes entire days without eating. She thinks of herself as a skeleton unfortunately covered in flesh. She sleeps in her paint.

All of which is heinous, but that last one has stuck with me. From age 13-18 I barely glanced down while I showered and whatever I saw I basically blocked out. I wore underwear and a bra under my pajamas to sleep every night. I was going through the wrong puberty, "my body was in open rebellion" as I liked to say at the time, and the only way to cope was to bind it down and pretend it wasn't happening. By Gideon's narration in HtN one gets the impression most nuns of the Ninth are putting their paint on after breakfast and taking it off when they get home. It's not even expected the average person wears it every time they leave the house. But Harrow regularly only takes her paint off in order to redo it. I suspect a combination of being the most brainwashed person in her own cult, knowing how she was conceived, and the regular disassociation make it very difficult for Harrow to conceptualize that she actually lives in a body. If she faced that fact head on she'd have to ask why it so often feels someone else is using her body. She'd have to cope with owning this body, being a part of this body, that was bought with the blood of 200 children who should have been her peers and friends. Instead she pretends it's an object on loan from them. And she does it with 10 layers of black petticoats and so much paint she never has to see her own skin.

Which brings me to the final thing I've noticed wearing full face paint. It dehumanizes you to yourself and everyone around you. I couldn't read my own expressions in a mirror. Even people who understood and were delighted with my cosplay were visibly nervous talking to me. You don't look like a person. Studies have shown that faces wearing heavy make up are ranked as harder to read and perceived as less empathetic. It's a particularly insidious trap of patriarchy that many women find self esteem in wearing make up, while that very act makes everyone around them treat them more callously. And, worst of all, if you stop wearing it once you're used to it, your naked face is shocking. You look sick due to your colors being less bold and the normal small flaws of your face appear unbearably ugly. With all this in mind, Harrow has trapped herself in a feedback loop of not being able to witness her own face and becoming more and more disgusted with the flesh and person underneath whenever she has to glance at it.

[thatbadadvice]

Help! I'm a Perfect Genius, but This Potential Employer Asked Me a Boring Interview Question!

Ask A Manager, 13 Feb 2024:

I was rejected from a role for not answering an interview question. I had all the skills they asked for, and the recruiter and hiring manager loved me. I had a final round of interviews — a peer on the hiring team, a peer from another team that I would work closely with, the director of both teams (so my would-be grandboss, which I thought was weird), and then finally a technical test with the hiring manager I had already spoken to. (I don’t know if it matters but I’m male and everyone I interviewed with was female.) The interviews went great, except the grandboss. I asked why she was interviewing me since it was a technical position and she was clearly some kind of middle manager. She told me she had a technical background (although she had been in management 10 years so it’s not like her experience was even relevant), but that she was interviewing for things like communication, ability to prioritize, and soft skills. I still thought it was weird to interview with my boss’s boss. She asked pretty standard (and boring) questions, which I aced. But then she asked me to tell her about the biggest mistake I’ve made in my career and how I handled it. I told her I’m a professional and I don’t make mistakes, and she argued with me! She said everyone makes mistakes, but what matters is how you handle them and prevent the same mistake from happening in the future. I told her maybe she made mistakes as a developer but since I actually went to school for it, I didn’t have that problem. She seemed fine with it and we moved on with the interview. A couple days later, the recruiter emailed me to say they had decided to go with someone else. I asked for feedback on why I wasn’t chosen and she said there were other candidates who were stronger. I wrote back and asked if the grandboss had been the reason I didn’t get the job, and she just told me again that the hiring panel made the decision to hire someone else. I looked the grandboss up on LinkedIn after the rejection and she was a developer at two industry leaders and then an executive at a third. She was also connected to a number of well-known C-level people in our city and industry. I’m thinking of mailing her on LinkedIn to explain why her question was wrong and asking if she’ll consider me for future positions at her company but my wife says it’s a bad idea. What do you think about me mailing her to try to explain?

Sir,

You have been wronged in the most grievous of ways by a coven of retaliatory, self-aggrandizing women who have failed in the extreme to recognize your brilliance, your talent, and above all, your general superiority.

Of course you should mail this mediocre "grandboss" on LinkedIn to inform her of the deep offense she caused you by interviewing you in the first place, let alone doing so using a boring question — indeed, you have a moral and professional obligation to do so in order to preserve your honor and the honor of scores of men like you who have never done a single solitary thing wrong in their lives, ever.

But I beg you to consider doing more. A single, private message to one incompetent bitch may not convey to the necessary parties the depth and breadth of the situation. Many, many people have important lessons to learn from your experience, and I encourage you to share it widely. Consider making a public LinkedIn post, and ensure that it is shareable across platforms. Depending on your financial resources, a billboard with your name, professional headshot, and contact information could go a long way toward ensuring that everyone in your industry who needs to know just how you handled the way these women treated you, does know about it. I hope that in your continuing job search, you are able to connect with potential employers who have a much better grasp of all you bring to the table.

[ohcorny]

i reread all of chobits recently as insp for my next TT book and every time i think about some aspect of it all i want to do is rip it open and tear it apart and go "why?". it brings up so many concepts and scenarios within the premise of "what if computers looked like pretty girls" but it doesn't want to commit to saying anything about it or take its own world seriously.

i have a lot to say about chobits. arguably i have more to say about chobits than even chobits wants to say about chobits.

chobits is about sex except it isn't about sex at all. chi's power switch is in her vagina. we're shown images of chi doing sexy things, she gets tricked into doing a strip tease, and two separate men try to finger her and she does her Do Not Touch Me There magic powers thing, and we eventually learn every time she resets from the power button, her memories are erased, so you can't have sex with her without deleting her.

but we never unpack why her reset button is in her vagina, or why it's so important that nobody can ever touch her, or why people's personal computers were built with vaginas in the first place (we never have it confirmed that all persocoms have them, but that two separate men try to touch her there imply it's expected). why do the personal computers shaped like women have vaginas if not to fuck them. as a product, it is expected that you will fuck them*.

*i assume, because the comic never says so!

the man who invented persocoms is the same person who built chi and her sister, and he built them to be daughters for his wife. he put the reset button in chi's vagina. we never find out why. we never get a HINT of why. he built the chobits so they could feel and fall in love, but also built them so they could never fuck. you can extrapolate a reason why a man might build his daughter-androids that way, but the series itself never touches it, and never makes any sort of point about it. it's just presented as an immutable fact that chi can't fuck without it deleting her, as if it was born of happenstance and not a person's choice.

what does that actually say about anything? what is it trying to say about sex? is it about the commodification of female bodies, how once they're used up sexually they're worthless? that if you can't love somebody without fucking them, what good is your love? that love without sex is okay (but also a huge burden and sacrifice a man must accept for the sake of someone else's happiness?)

what does it want to say! chobits is about sex, but it doesn't want to commit to any specific message about sex.

and that's just ONE issue i have with it. there are so many things chobits wants to be about but won't say anything about. it wants to be about the persocoms replacing human connections, we constantly get told 'gee people hang out with persocoms a lot', chitose publishes a whole inexplicable book series about people preferring persocomes to humans. it's to the degree that a prominent character's husband gets So wrapped up in (presumably) fucking his android that he locks his actual wife out of the house, having just straight up forgotten she exists. we don't have anything to say about it though. she falls in love with a new man. the people who hang out with their persocoms too much are all background characters in crowds. we never look at how the rise in persocoms has affected society as a whole.

it wants to be about grief, in the story about the man who marries a persocom and has to watch her slowly degrade until she can't remember him anymore, or the kid whose older sister died and he tried to replace her with a persocom who he dresses up/treats as a maid and lives alone with despite being omega orphaned and 11 years old. but then it's fine. the man who married a persocom gets in a relationship with a high school girl 20 years younger than him (CLAMP!). it's fine! the boy who tried to replace his older sister just accepts that the persocom replacement won't replace her. still treats/dresses her up like a maid and lives alone. is she his legal guardian. i don't know. don't worry about it.

and it wants to be about women, because everything about the story is about women, all the persocoms are women, all the tragedies are wrapped up in the death of a woman, or a woman's heartbreak, or a woman's feelings. but it has fucking nothing to say about women beside look how pretty they are. my boobs are E cup, sempai :) teehee

it makes me insane.

friend @amphiaria put it best as "Unfortunately the story is uninterested in itself" and i can never forgive it for being so aesthetically good, giving us the best design for an android (the ear things are Perfect) and then being So Fucking Bad.

in conclusion:

[osheamobile]

Reasons why the Benoit Blanc movies work so well

They are about women of color with everyday jobs (nurse, teacher)

These women are treated terribly by rich assholes in completely pedestrian and everyday ways that women of color with everyday jobs are treated in real life

These women get extremely cathartic justice in the end

The movie does not star Benoit Blanc, he is merely the driving vehicle for the mystery

He is barely a character, he is a plot device.

All we learn about Benoit Blanc in the first movie is:

He is a famous detective

He was so famous he was on magazines

Literally everyone knows who he is because of previous mysteries he has solved

These previous mysteries are not explained or even given any details, all we know is that they happened and he got famous for them

He has a kind heart

He has a Southern accent that continually shifts back and forth across the Delta

This is neither explained nor commented on

All we learn about Benoit Blanc in the second movie is:

He lives with a partner (marital status unknown) who is

A: British

B: Done with his shit

C: Trying to learn how to make sourdough starter in the pandemic

He plays Among Us with celebrities

He is very bad at mystery games such as Among Us and Clue

That’s it. That’s all we learn about him.

This is fantastic because these new details provide zero additional context to the unexplained force of nature that is Benoit Blanc, he just strolls into someone else’s movie, tells them they are good people, and gives them closure against rich assholes.

It is not Benoit Blanc’s movie. It is a movie with Benoit Blanc in.

The movies are mysteries with lots of twists and turns but they never make the audience feel stupid. This is because

All of the twists are foreshadowed by scenery details, camera angles, and other things deliberately left in the shot.

This rewards both the keen-eyed and the additional rewatchers

All of these twists are extremely well hidden on the first viewing

This rewards those who enjoy trying to work it out and enjoying them as they come

The correct reaction to guessing twists before they happen is that they were very well foreshadowed, not that the writers weren’t good enough at tricking the viewers, like some writers who put in twists that are completely out of left field and unsupported by the previous text because they don’t want their audience to guess.

Ben Shapiro didn’t understand the second one, which is just a nice bonus.

The fucking. Cameos. Are delightful, not hackneyed.

The fucking cinnamon tography.

Every camera angle is a masterpiece. Every still frame is a painting.

[decolonize-the-everything]

MMIW (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women) is a human rights crisis of violence against Indigenous women in Canada and the United States

Quick facts:

4 of 5 Native women will experience violence

1/3 of Native women will experience sexual violence (and over 2/3 of that is committed by non-natives)

Murder is our 3rd leading cause of death

On some reservations MMIWG2S are murdered at 10x the national average rate

In general native women and girls are raped at twice the average national rate

According to a report by USA today, native women also go missing at the twice average national rate

Nearly all rapes are perpetuated by off reservations settlers who also face no legal repercussions (legal loopholes state you must be on tribal ground to be persecuted by tribal police and most don't stick sround)

Less than 1% of MMIW cases are logged

It's been awhile since I've since Ive posted about this, but it's a very important topic and one that's especially important to me right now.

Some of you following me have all the context clues but I'll say it plainly here on this post. My cousin is one of the many MMIW that have died awful deaths. I myself am one of the natives who've experiences violence and sexual violence. The article is right. I don't know a native who hasn't. And that shouldn't have to be our reality.

But it doesn't change without more support and we don't get support by keeping people in the dark. Unfortunately resources are directly tied to public interest in an issue. The actual MMIW site for example says it's on hiatus when you go to the resource section.

So please share this so that someone else can learn and become an ally to the cause. The way people treat native women, girls, and two spirits is awful and deserves more attention than it's getting.

May 5th is MMIW awareness day; please wear red, share our posts, schedule a vigil, make your own graphics/posts in support, etc. Make some time to show you care that day.

Just don't use the red hand over your mouth, this is representative of the violent silence MMIW are forced to keep in their graves and how those of us alive must speak for them. Its a heavy symbol that carries responsibility so it's best left alone if you aren't indigenous.

[rene-spade]

Ok but how are the crazy f1 dads with their daughters dating? Who on the grid do they like?

oof this is a loaded ask bc they really are all out of it 😭 they just love their babies fr

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! kimi | growing up räikkönen!

FIRST OF ALL kimi doesn’t really vibe with most people in general, let alone anyone who’s trying to get with his little lumienkeli. kimi was lucky to raise a little girl similar to him, who listens when he places a no dating rule lasting until she’s 21 (as far as he knows anyways). despises the guys on the grid trying to get with her; he was one of them once so he thinks of them as animals, especially leclerc who’s known for his brow-raising dating life. also hates pierre but he already didn’t fw him bc he’s french. he is SLIGHTLY more easy going with women around his daughter so any grid guys with girlfriends might have an advantage. he finds that he wants the im-a-dog-and-ill-do-whatever-my-girl-says type for his daughter, but he dislikes unintelligence. he does not like anyone on the grid, but he best tolerates:

mick schumacher!

oscar piastri (+lily)

he vibes with kika okay but hates pierre 💀

bonus! he actually really likes max but his hate/distrust for jos overpowers that so he’s not letting that happen

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jenson | growing up button!

OK SO JENSON is a bit less intense than kimi, however he is much more publicly affectionate with his daughter which means that he has definitely gone on public rants about how no man is good wen enough for his baby. that being said, he is a decent judge of character so he doesn’t hate anyone on the grid. but he gets real serious when he notices people hitting on his baby. this is mostly bc he was def a whore when he was younger so he isn’t quick to trust guys who are living the same lifestyle he was. he kind of turns on dad-mode when he notices anyone eyeing her up. but alas, he raised his own mini-me, who attracts just about everyone, and who likes to flirt back. it takes warming up to, but he can see himself fine with most of the drivers. he most prefers people who are friendly and who didn’t act like him when he was in f1 like:

george russel

daniel ricciardo

lando norris

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! fernando | growing up alonso!

NANDO IS DEFINITELY one of those guys who thinks he’s a “cool dad” bc he’s a young father and his daughter is his best friend. but in reality he’s one of those intense, fiercely overprotective dads who have impossibly high expectations for his daughters partner. 100% the type to punch a mechanic for saying gross things about his princesa. he’ll be calm and in a good mood then someone on the grid (or any man ever) mentions his daughter and he’s like 😐. UNLESS! it’s carlos. carlos is the only one who meets his standards, sorry to literally everyone else. but even with carlos, he can be a little stern just to get his point across about not messing with his only child. he just feels the need to personally approve of his daughter’s partner bc he’s hyper-paranoid about someone hurting her. his list looks something like:

carlos sainz!!!

that’s it

i mean if you put a gun to his head maybe max bc he’s a winner but he needs to learn to speak spanish so-

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jos | growing up verstappen! unfortunately

FUCK JOS VERSTAPPEN obviously, however this man is one crazy dad who we have to discuss. his love for his youngest daughter is wild and unpredictable, and it’s very different from the way he treats his other children. his baby has some extreme one-sided beef with him that he’s smart enough to know about, so he isn’t too forceful about bonding, it’s definitely more desperate since max found success in f1 and she sticks with her big brother now. her entire life, he’s never allowed her to date, and when he found out about her first secret bf, he got arrested for trying to kill the kid so. he has IMPOSSIBLY high standards for his daughters partner and definitely wants her to marry within the f1 community, but he hates losers and despises half the grid.

suddenly he’s charles leclerc’s biggest fan !

lewis hamilton but he’ll never admit it

MAYBE carlos sainz

bonus! max obvi likes daniel ricciardo best but jos doesn’t fw him like that

♤ ♤ ♤

Ren

[namisweatheria]

I feel like we don't discuss Nami's relationship with gender enough. Her entire character is so deeply informed by being a girl in a male-dominated pirate world and it's so interesting and so worth talking about.

The background creepiness of Bad pirate crews, which are most of them, how they tend to not have any female crew members at all, how they beckon any pretty young woman around to come play with them and join them. It's real bad. It's also like, a totally 2 dimensional portrayal of evil that is reserved for the most background of background characters.

However I think their ubiquity says a lot about how piracy is meant to be perceived by the public in One Piece, and is one of the strongest indicators of how prevalent misogyny is in-world.

It's very normal in One Piece for regular island inhabitants to have never met a Different class of pirate in their life. There's no reason for them to withhold judgement that maybe these pirates won't be like every crew that attacked before, and to wait and judge them by their actions. I mean frankly that would be irrationally weak self-preservation.

There are people who live peacefully under the flags of Yonkos who protect them, and feel loyalty and gratitude to them for it, but that seems to only be thing with very big name pirates. The East Blue, being the weakest and least populated, has no such plethora of powerful people and resulting turf wars.

So. Nami. Is very clearly implied to have never met any Different pirates before. I'm thinking about what that means. About how every group of pirates she stole from were creepy, dangerous men. How she started going out stealing when she was still a young child. How she didn't have a mother anymore to guide her or comfort her. How Arlong would grab her chin inappropriately, talk about her as a "human female", as property, and god knows what else.

How all the men in Arlong's crew treated her patronizingly, pretending they're all friends, teasing her and playing at respect when really not a single one of them ever stuck up for her or hesitated to accuse her of betrayal. Who were always ready to kill her if she refused to cooperate. Who grabbed her and intimidated her when they felt like it.

That's what she had to come back to after a close call with stealing from other predatory men, instead of the relief of home there was a dark, cramped room filled with endless hours of misery and isolation and blood. Where any one of her captors could barge in and demand new maps, work faster, where did you go, you took too long again this time. Endless threats and incursions.

I'm thinking about that her fight scene in Alabasta, where she tumbles and rips off her cape and uses it to catch her enemy's spikes, before leaping to her feet and running out the back door, all in one moment. How it makes her enemy reconsider her and think, "so the girl's not a total novice at fighting after all." What that implies about her experiences as a young thief. The times she wasn't fast or clever enough and had to fight and claw her way out. Why she always carried a staff and a knife. Why she was the only one before Chopper who had any medical knowledge or experience.

You know she was stitching herself up. And the weapons, how do you think she learned to use those? If any of the Arlong Pirates helped her it wasn't out of kindness and it wasn't gentle.

Then I think about Nojiko, and Bellemere's memory, and the only softness in a hard life. How easily Nami connects to every young woman experiencing hardship that she meets. How completely she dismisses the struggles of men unless they mean something to her and are going through something terrible. The way that Nami only has sympathy for women and children is easily noticeable in-text, but it's also something confirmed in those words by the author. And it's clearly because of the life she lived, the men who had all the power and only abused it, who saw her as nothing but a girl to take advantage of, without anyone aside from her sister clearly knowing and caring about any of it.

Nami clearly isn't bitter, she doesn't think the world owes her recompense, on the contrary she knows she is far from the only person in the world to suffer the things she has suffered. She is endlessly reaching out and kind, but only to those that she isn't sure would get help without her. Certainly, before Luffy, Usopp, and Zoro, no man ever reached out a hand to her without an ulterior motive.

I think when she sees a girl in trouble, a girl biting her lip to hold in a scream of grief, a girl running in the woods away from a monster, a girl captured by pirates, she sees someone who no one is coming for. Who no one will stick up for. A person without allies in a world against her. Whether it's actually true in this case or not, she runs straight for that girl anyways every single time.

[primrosebow]

Do you draw or write for the girls? Because I would love seeing any type of Lute, Charlie or Vaggie art in your style

Also I would eat your art 20/10

Short answer: yahhh xoxo💞

Long answer:

_-->Various hazbin hotel women x reader // art

//

!Content warnings!:the usual nsfw, this has the gals listed in the ask🫡 a few headcannons added for flavor, gn reader cause I never specified literally anything, more words than usual.

We are SO BACK 💪💪💪 request things ‼️ My activities would get me perma banned from the vatican, I'm afraid.

Charlie //

I, unlike most other people here, believe that charlie most often tries to take the role of a dom! She's used to trying to fix everyone else's problems, but, she'll crumble if she ever gets treated like the perfect princess that she is. Call her beautiful, praise her, give her that affection she desperately needs. She's been helping her citizens for so long, she deserves to get taken care of!

Honestly, when you slowly push that vibrator inside her after what felt like an agonizing ammount of time for prepping, she was ready to cry on the spot. She can barely believe you even talked her into being in the receiving end of this -she's the one supposed to be pleasing you!- Getting this much attention and love made her brain go all fuzzy and tears well up in her eyes as her limbs felt weak; she was trembling far too much from the overwhelming pleasure she felt right then to truly care about what this whole situation did to her ego.

She doesn't realize her horns have made an appearence as she pleads with you: come on! You were giving her so much attention just a minute ago! Please! Being as close to you as possible is her only wish right now. Her pitiful tone and cries for you directly contradict how her tail is shaking at it's tip, much like that of an excited cat -she's enjoying this far more than she expected-.

If you do decide to give in and finally rub on her already overstimulated clit just as you had been doing before, she'll cling onto you for dear life- practically sobbing as you give her precisely what she needs. Maybe she can get used to being treated nicely by you. (She learns that she cannot get enough of the overwhelming passionate act of letting you be in control, it's far too good for her to only experience it once.

She'll soon get a little cocky though... she isn't the daughter of the king of pride just because of her name, if you catch what I'm throwing)

// //

Vaggie //

Vaggie has placed quite a notorious quantity of expectations on herself. She's always been this way, and, continues to be despite your affirmations of her worth. Your constant and relentless words of praise to her: how beautiful she is, how strong, how perfect, how brave, how hot- it all got to her head very quickly. Your words contradicted her thoughts on herself but the way you kiss along her neck makes any thought melt away from her brain and be replaced with pure emotion.

// //

"Mh.. please, darling- I-" she tried to form a sentence, eventually getting cut off by her own moans. Her nightgown was pushed up as she laid with her back against your bed, squirming slightly as she feels your fingers rub against her insides. She clenches around you as you drag your thumb over her swolen clit, which was begging for your attention since the very start of this. Her hips stutter as she can't pick between indulging the stimulation and running away from the pleasure.

Her eyes struggle to keep themselves open, but you had told her to look at you during this. She couldn't let you down. Not when you were saying she was "doing so good f'me". Those are some of the few words that can pierce through the thick veil of the ecstasy-like feeling of your attention and carve themselves into her very soul. She was good. Good for you. She couldn't ask for anything better, and, won't- can't be letting you down.

You.. leave her easy tasks such as looking at you and being a little quieter just so she feels like she's still, in some way, being useful to you. Slow and steady wins the race, and, soon enough you hope to remove the constant anxiety of servicing you from the act of love you want to give her.

Lute //

Lute is quite interesting because she has this weird duality between wanting approval and not being able to take said approval. Sometimes, she'll activelly attempt to rile you up enough that you'll punish her (something you have already told her is not necessary, since you can be harsher on her if she simply asks) but please don't blame her! She's just used to being treated roughly, it's "safer" for her to stay in her comfort zone of thorns and cruel words at first.

But only at first. Like I said, she really does want to feel loved. One of the first times you attempted to give her the affection she craves, after having learned that she can't deal with the purely lovey, sappy affection yet, you had to get resourceful with bringing her the love she needs.

"Awh sweetheart, you can't handle this?" You dig your fingers even deeper into her, a squelching noise arises from the action because of just how wet she already is. She groans at your words, and, if you didn't know any better, she'd have sounded like any other cheap sinner from lust with how aroused she was at your teasing. But you do know better. Your comment- it was slightly mocking, it was maddening; it was a challenge. For her to keep her composure for as long as she can. Lute grabs onto you even harder so she can regain some sense of stability, finally locking eyes with you. She moves her hips slightly against your fingers. Despite it being her own action, she groans. She says in a shaky tone

"Do your worst."

Ah, you can't deny such a request, now, can you?

// //

BONUSSSSSSSSS‼️

Velvette //

"Agh- fuck you! H-ah-" she tried to act mad, don't get her wrong. She really did. But that's astoundingly hard to do when your lover has their hand in your panties and is currently relentlessly and harshly rubbing against your clit like it was the last thing they'll ever touch.

You really could not have picked a worse time to do this; right before one of her new collection showcases? Did you want her to die? You forcefully push her thighs apart when she pressed them toguether, not letting her even attempt to get back a semblance of composure. As if that wasn't enough, you had locked her bracelets toguether behind her back, and, even if she wouldn't admit it to a single soul, it really turned her on.

She tried to think as hard as she could, try to offend you, try to play her own pleasure down, but she really couldn't. Empty remarks about your incompetence or appearence or literally anything she could get her mind around slowly melted away into moans and whines, the much too familiar shame from getting overwhelmed so easily by you also pushed aside by a desperate search for her own release.

When she finally did cum, she doesn't hold back on how loud her moan of your name was, her thighs trembled as she leaned on your body for support. She intentionally turns her head away from the mirror so she won't be faced by her own overstimulated self, and much less your self-satisfied grin as you watch her panting against you.

Oh gods... what was she doing again? Hmm.. OH YOU BASTARD YOU RUINED HER PANTIES! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EXPENSIVE THAT FABRIC WAS? FUCK YOU.

Let's just hope that the fashion gossip blogs don't catch onto how uncharacteristically out of breath she was during that showcase!

I love piracy so much RAHHHHHH‼️‼️ if buying ain't ownin, piracy ain't stealin, but I wish it were. IMAGINE‼️ you download idk ratatouille and they just don't have it anymore. "Guys they took ratatouille again..." I wish. I wish watching media through torrent sites was like taking various items from ikea.

I WOULD download a car.

@bigfatbimbo cause of the little bonus of velvette

[megalobsterface]

No One Else Is Saying It So I'm Going To: Elden Ring DLC Is Transphobic As Fuck

The entire character of Count Ymir feels like Fromsoft was upset people weren't as disgusted by Gwyndolin as they were supposed to be, so they turned the transmisogyny up to 11 and made it absolutely unmissable how much hatred they have towards trans people. And most people on the internet are still fucking missing it somehow, so let's break it down, I guess.

Count Ymir is an NPC in the Elden Ring DLC, Shadow of the Erdtree, and is the main character of his own questline in the DLC. He's an old man who sits on a throne and is only ever referred to with he/him pronouns, and he wears a 'priest's outfit' that involves a habit-like crown and a long, purple robe.

One of the first things you learn about Count Ymir is that he's somehow attached to a deceased child named Yuri, to the point where he starts calling tiny fingercreepers by his name. You can find Ymir at night sobbing over the gravestone, while during the day he cradles a tiny, dead hand and calls it Yuri. While giving him an obsession with an underaged boy who may or may not have even been his son is definitely sus, it's literally the least weird part of this quest. It's mostly there to set up unease and distrust with Ymir, because they player doesn't know how Yuri died, and suddenly this old man is treating creepy monsters as children and calling them by this dead child's name. Again, nothing incriminating on its own, but that's just the set-up.

Ymir gives you a "bell," which is a long, cylindrical object with a bunch of holes in it, one of those holes on the elongated tip, that the player takes to places called 'Finger Ruins' to unlock treasure. Finger ruins are large, grey deserts with giant stone fingers jutting out of the sand. These ruins are inhabited by fingercreepers, enemies from the base game that are spider-like severed hands, and these new enemies that are long, lamprey-like finger men that can grab the player and suck on their face. To use the bell Ymir gave you, you go up to a giant version of the bell and blow into it, the hole on the tip the size of the player's entire face.

As you go on these treasure hunts, you meet Jolan, Ymir's bodyguard, a woman who is protective of the old man for some reason. Ymir mentions that Jolan has a sister named Anna, and both of them are purehearted. Here's the thing, though. During the 2nd treasure hunt, you can find a secret room in a tower nearby Ymir's church, and in that room is Anna's corpse, turned into a puppet somehow. Puppet summons in the base game are heavily, heavily implied to be victims of sexual violence, as the man who makes them, Seluvis, exclusively makes puppets out of women and naked men, keeping some of them in his bedroom behind a magic door, and getting very personal with you the instant you find out about this. These are dead bodies that are meant to be read as the objects of sexual gratification to the one who made them that way.

Anna's puppet is in a secret room near Ymir's church. It is explicitly stated later that Anna is Ymir's "doll," further cementing the implications from the base game. Before even getting to the end of the questline, we have confirmation Ymir is a sexual predator who has murdered at least one adult woman, which puts his obsession with a deceased young boy further into question.

After the 2nd treasure hunt, you return to find Ymir crying at Yuri's grave. He tells you that Marika, the queen of the lands between, final boss of the main game, and mother of DLC antagonist Miquella, is a failure because she is a bad mother, and that Miquella is doomed because of a "rotten root." This brings up his other obsession, that of motherhood, and how Yuri would still be alive if he'd had a better mother. You can probably see where this is going.

Ymir gives you a third map, which tells you the church is already in a finger ruin desert, which is obviously untrue, as you can see it's not. So you look around and find a secret tunnel underneath Ymir's throne while he's at Yuri's grave. Underneath the church is a hidden finger ruin, with fingers jutting out of the sky and one more giant bell at the end.

Anna invades you here, though it's clear from before that she's been long dead and this is her reanimated corpse being used for Ymir's bidding. After defeating Anna, you get to the last bell, and instead of treasure, you're teleported to a sea of fingers and fight Metyr, Mother of Fingers. This is a fromsoft game, so you can use your imagination on what a boss who is themed around maternity and has a body made up solely of long, plump fingers looks like. Hint: phallic and unpleasant.

After beating Metyr, Jolan tries to kill you for ruining Ymir's plan, somehow? You just followed his maps and did what he asked, and this ruined his plan. He told you where to go, gave you the key item you needed to use, and asked you to do it for him. He drew you a MAP. But this ruined his plans? None of this quest was thought through beyond the cruelty it applies to real world groups, the writing makes literally no sense. Hate crime aside, the writing is just bad.

After fighting Jolan is when the other shoe drops and Ymir is summoned as the final boss of this sidequest. His title is Count Ymir, Mother of Fingers, and his purple priestess robe is now bursting at the seems with wriggling fingers. He says he will be "A true mother. The only mother." He fights by literally giving birth to fingercreepers, spewing them out of his robes as a projectile. Let me remind you of the phallic nature of this enemy, and of Gwyndolin, the other transfem-coded hate crime character Fromsoft made, who had snakes wriggling out from under her dress. This is a repeated theme in these games, of transfem-coded characters having dangerous, cylindrical objects under their clothes.

To be blunt, because I know not everyone is seeing this, having Ymir call himself a mother and then immediately be shown to be covered in penis-like fingers that were hidden under his robe this whole time, is an anti-tranny joke the devs are making. They made it with Gwyndolin, who we actually liked, so they went more explicit and made it again with an old man who kills women and children, sexually assaults them, and then tries to take sole ownership of the word "mother" because of his hatred towards women. The key item he gives you is designed to make the player feel violated. The entire quest is choked in phallic imagery, with Fromsoft practically screaming at the top of their lungs "PENIS ITS PENISES, HE HAS PENISES HE CAN'T BE A MOM BECAUSE OF THE PENIS!!! ISN'T HE GROSS, ISN'T HE SCARY??? PENIS!!!!"

It's fucking disgusting. It's detestable that they went through all of this trouble to show us how un-fucking-welcome we are in this game's community. This is some of the worst transphobia I've seen from a mainstream title in decades. This is Silence of the Lambs, Sleepaway Camp type shit. I would not be surprised if JK Rowling had a writing credit for this DLC. This isn't even getting into all the poorly thought-out incest they added into the main questline, either.

Fuck Fromsoft. I hope all the people who wrote this quest choke on air. It's fucking pathetic, I'm mad as hell, and any trans person who plays Elden Ring, or any other Fromsoft game, should be mad as hell, too.

[star-anise]

The thing about "parents' rights" and "protect the children [from hearing that other ways of life than ours are possible and okay]" is that it is literally, in the purest sense of the word, patriarchy.

The word literally means "rule by the fathers". We're generally used to hearing it describe how adult women can be dominated by adult men. However, that's not where patriarchy ends; feminists have been less eager to address how within that system, women can exercise power and domination of their own through the traditional gender roles of motherhood. Their maternal rights to power and dominance may have traditionally been lesser than paternal ones, but they were never less than their minor children's. Even single-mother or female-only families can be, in this sense, patriarchal.

Patriarchal families are a complex system that grants parents complete legal and practical control over nearly every aspect of their children's lives. The patriarchal family controls where the child lives, who takes care of them, what rules they have to follow, how they are educated, who they associate with, what healthcare they receive, what religion they practice, and whether they can work or control any money they earn or that is given to or for them.

Normally discussions of patriarchy are a lot more abstract. But right now it's very concrete and real: we are fighting to limit the family's control over children on issues where we can observe that families sometimes tend to make decisions that are bad for the children's welfare or that disrespect their human rights.

Whether a minor child can get an abortion. Whether they can receive gender-affirming care. Whether it's okay to lie or coerce your child to ensure they follow your religion. Whether they deserve to be educated about factual histories or scientific theories that are necessary to understanding the world around them. Whether they deserve to learn accurate, age-appropriate information about consent, setting boundaries, how their bodies and the bodies of other people work, what a normal range of gender and sexual identities look like, what healthy or unhealthy relationships look like, and what sex is, how it works, what its positives and negatives are, and how they might navigate the world, whether or not they ever want to have it.

Hell, on some levels we're still arguing about whether it's okay to hit your kids, or whether children have the right, similar to the rights adults have, not to be assaulted or abused.

Because there are a LOT of people who say: No. Parents should have 100% control over any or all of those issues. If the parent says no, the child is not allowed to do or have any of those things, and nobody else should be allowed to interfere and provide them to the child without their parents' consent.

Pointing this out often results in parents saying, "Oh, so you want just ANYONE to be able to go up and talk sex with kids? You want kids to be able to decide to jump off cliffs with nobody stopping them???" As though parents are the single protective force in the universe, the only thing standing between their child and the ravages of absolute chaos.

On the contrary: most of the time the argument is for children to receive care and guidance from adults who are monitored to ensure they treat children in safe and appropriate ways, who have spent many years studying the best and most rigorously tested of our collective understanding of how to prepare children for happy, healthy lives.

And we are arguing against people who believe that the only important qualification needed to refuse children that kind of care is to be ranked above them in their family hierarchy.

In conclusion...

Fuck the patriarchy. Children have human rights too.

[delfiore]

—ONE OF YOUR GIRLS.

pairing: lucy bronze x reader, (alexia putellas x reader)

synopsis: the only reason is simply because you are both heartbroken, lonely, and desperate.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i gave myself a 1k word limit on this and i failed miserably. literally why is it so hard for me to write a 1k essay for school but not this

You started to learn Lucy’s routine only a few weeks after she started coming around. Like clockwork, it didn’t matter how late you went to bed, she would always be up before eight. Sometimes, it would be to go downstairs for a swim in the freezing cold outdoor pool in her apartment complex. “Helps me wake up and think clearer”, she would explain. Sometimes, it would just be to sit in the living room with a coffee in hand, watching videos of the team you and her would be playing later in the day. Other times—and it was always a treat when she did—it would be to stay in bed with you, and watch you wake up.

Those were the times in which you felt like what you had with Lucy resembled most like a relationship, due to the sheer amount of domesticity of it. The way she would take time out of the day to lay a few extra minutes with you made it feel concrete like what you were doing was worth the time. But that wasn’t the goal—a relationship.

“I forgot to bring my stuff last night,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the lack of gear you brought over to Lucy’s apartment. You had hastily stuffed the necessities into a crossbody bag when she texted.

“It’s alright. We can drive by later and pick it up on our way to training.”

“We’re gonna arrive together? What if people see?”

Everyone else at Barcelona didn’t know, of course, because you couldn’t even begin to explain what the fuck transpired between you two. It was no relationship, but it was no ordinary friendship either. A special kind of friendship, maybe, but not entirely the kind people would think of if you described it as such . . .

Lucy’s lips pursed, and she contemplated for a moment. After a few seconds, she turned towards the window, the morning sun washed white behind the milky blinds.

“I don’t really care, to be honest,” her chest rose quickly with an exhale. “Why have we got to explain ourselves to people anyway? Kinda tired of it.”

You knew she meant having to deal with the looks her ex would give her. She had been chasing after Keira, trying to make amends for a long time. You knew that, she told you everything.

It made you think about your own situation. You were still very much in love with your own ex, but Alexia has since moved on with a mutual friend, and your conversations were reduced to strictly work nowadays. The way she started treating you after the breakup wasn’t dissimilar to how an older teenager treats her younger, annoying little sibling; with avoidance and an overly sense of self-importance. It made you despise her ten times more than you already did, but you also yearned for her attention, because it was what you have aligned your life with for a while.

But you supposed you had a type—older women with avoidance issues—which was why you were here with Lucy.

“Keira asked me about you the other day,” you said on the car ride to the training ground. You sat in Lucy’s passenger seat. “She was wondering how you were doing. Said you never talk to her anymore.”

Lucy scoffed and turned back to you. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“Like how you actually look so fit in my shirt.”

You let the snort escape your nose but leaned towards her in the passenger seat. “It’s literally a plain black T-shirt, Luce.”

“‘Xactly,” Her cheeks creased with a grin. “Makes me almost want to fancy you.”

“Almost.”

“Almost,” Lucy said.

Almost.

You and Lucy have always had a friendship filled with banter. Heart-to-hearts rarely happened—maybe before and after important matches, or international ones in which one of you had to be the loser—but you appreciated her easygoing nature and how it has shaped your relationship.

If you were a bit closer in age, if you weren’t already with Alexia, and she with Keira at the same time, you reckoned you would have gone for her. You’d always found her attractive.

“You’re too young for me, Y/N,” Lucy had told you once.

“I’m just saying,” you had put your hands up. “If you’re ever desperate enough, I could be like one of your girls.”

Lucy only laughed. Perhaps desperate was the wrong word to use. Lucy Bronze could never get that desperate so as to seek you out for company. No, everything would have to be on her terms.

You agreed with her, though. A nine-year age gap might have been a bit too much, but Lucy wasn’t just like any other 32-year-old.

But you were in love with Alexia. You still were, and your coupling with Lucy might have just been a ploy to piss her off, but your captain didn’t need to know that. Just seeing the not-so-subtle looks she sends your way whenever you are too touchy with Lucy was enough to satiate your grudge.

It seemed the joke wasn’t merely a joke, not to Lucy, because one night, she called you. You had never seen Lucy cry, at least not in person, and she was the type of person to let people see her cry only for her profession, never something in her personal life.

Every joke on your tongue died the moment you saw her blotchy, red face at your front door.

“I didn’t know who else to call.”

Really?

She could have called anyone on the team and they would happily offer her comfort. That was the charisma that Lucy wielded, and you were willing to bet there were other members of the team who were much better than you at comforting someone.

“I think I’m just unlovable.”

You led her inside and offered her a glass of water. I think I’m just unlovable. Her words echoed in your mind as you scrambled to find any words that would be comforting to her at that moment. How do you convince someone that they weren’t their flaws when you yourself struggled with the same insecurities? If Lucy even had those doubts about herself, how could you ever get out of it?

“I think I’m unlovable too.”

You didn’t know whether that was comforting or just rubbing salt in her wound, but Lucy exhaled shakily, for the first time looking at you in a way unlike that of teammates, or even friends.

Unlike a friend would, you lifted your hand and wiped away the tear on her cheek with the pad of your thumb, and unlike a friend would, you leaned in and kissed her slowly.

Kissing Lucy was exhilarating. She was eager and rough, and soft and gentle. It made you almost want to fall in love with her. She was tired, so you climbed on her lap and led the way, and all her burdens faded into oblivion, at least for the night.

When you both arrived at training, only a few of your teammates were there in the locker room, and most of them didn’t seem to notice you coming in together anyway. Pina, though, found you across the room.

“Did you hear?” She said quietly.

“What?”

“Alexia has been with the physios since like 9 this morning.”

“Why? What happened?” You tried not to sound too eager, or worried.

“I don’t know, but I walked past and I think she was crying.”

When you came into the rehab center, a physio greeted you with a smile. You returned it as your eyes quickly found the only person lying down on a bed, hiding her face in the crook of her arm.

“Hey, capitana,” you said in Spanish. “You sleep here last night or something?”

You saw the way her jaw ticked, and looking down, noticed the bandages wrapped around her knee, the ACL one.

“You didn’t happen to bring any coffee in, did you?” She said groggily. “I could use a sip.”

“No coffee, sorry. I’m trying to wean myself off of it.”

“You said that a thousand times before.”

You put your hands in your pockets and leaned against the bed. “What’s wrong?”

She let out a sigh and removed her arm. “They’re making me sit out Saturday’s game. They’re scared I might mess something up.”

You nodded, because you understood exactly why. Another ACL problem would be detrimental to her career in ways that you didn’t want to think about. “It’s better to be sure,” you shrugged.

“I’ve fucked my knee, Y/N,” Alexia said, inhaling shakily. “That’s what it is.”

You couldn’t imagine having to live with the anxiety, tiptoeing around your own knees, afraid it might give out any second again. Even the smallest discomfort could spell trouble, and the slightest movement could trigger the injury to worsen.

You opted not tell Lucy about your conversation with Alexia, because you wanted to keep it to yourself. As useless as that might be, that was the first genuine conversation you’ve had with your ex in about a year. You’ve learned not to take it to heart, though, because you knew you’d disappoint yourself when Alexia eventually goes back to treating you like a kid.

You made a conscious effort not to think about her when you called Lucy over for a hookup, but when she was knuckles-deep inside you, you couldn’t think of anything else but the pleasure.

Laying back and staring at the ceiling, you drew deep breaths as you came down from your high.

“You okay?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Hold me?”

She smiled and gathered you in her arms before kissing you sweetly. “Did something happen with Alexia?”

“No.” Nothing happened, really, but maybe it was because nothing happened that made you so distraught. “Maybe in another universe, where you’re not you and I’m not me, I would take you on a date tomorrow, maybe we’d be happier.”

“Well, why won’t you do it in this universe?”

You shrugged and settled back against her chest. “Because I’m me and you’re you. But mostly, because I am me.”

Lucy didn’t answer. She knew as much as anyone that once you’ve made your mind up, there was no swaying it, and that she didn’t have the energy in her to either. Instead, she leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, wishing you’d find it in you somewhere to see yourself the way she sees you.

It would take some time until then, though, as only a few weeks later, she saw you hand-in-hand with Alexia coming to practice. Apparently, Alexia’s girlfriend was no more and you got what you wanted. It was okay, though, because Lucy found comfort in Ona, about to go on a second date with her the next day. You might have almost gotten the love you’d always desired with her, but it was just that, an almost.

[thepersonperson]

Sukuna's Loneliness Part 1

(Thoughts on Sukuna's Dehumanization as of JJK 261.)

Part 2

Some things to keep in mind...

1) This analysis deals with topics of ableism, racism, and discrimination. (Very brief suicidal ideation mention.)

2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans because of their accessibility. 

3) There are a lot of links so you know I'm not making stuff up. The sources are both formal and informal. Please do research on some of the discussed topics to gain a better understanding of them.

(Click pictures for captions/citations.)

The Name Ryomen Sukuna

Before we start this needs to be made clear. Ryomen Sukuna is not a first and last name. Ryomen is a title. Sukuna is a name.

Ryomen uses the kanji 両面 which can be translated as "two-faced".

Sukuna uses the kanji 宿儺 which can be translated as "specter". Individually the kanji can be read as "lodging, inn" (宿, suku) and "exorcism" (儺, na).

Two-faced specter is not a nice name to put it lightly. It's such a mean spirited name that the JP fanbase suspects he was called something else before becoming The Disgraced One.

Normally I would assume his parents did not name him this, however, Sukuna himself had this to say about his birth.

In the original Japanese, Sukuna calls himself 忌み子 (Imigo) which can be translated as "Abominable Child", "Unwanted Child", or "Shunned Child." None of these translations in my opinion get across how severe Imigo is. It's closer to meaning "child who should've never been born". Like the child's very existence is an affront to god. (If you play Elden Ring the Omen are called Imigo in Japanese for this reason.)

You combine this fact with his name and it starts to paint a nasty picture. Sukuna straight up may not have a last name in part from what is implied to be disownment from birth.

Sukuna's Trauma

(Even if he won't acknowledge it as something that has deeply affected him.)

As a Basketball American (aka one of those people with a unique skeletal structure and muscles as Mr. Gojo Satoru would say), I consider myself a professional experiencer of discrimination. This means when a character has likely experienced something similar to me, I can sniff it out like a bloodhound. Though what Sukuna experiences is much closer to ableism than racism. (Discrimination across the board is pretty similar in a lot of ways you know.)

Sukuna is disabled—not as in he lacks an able body (my goodness he is too ablebodied), but as society is not built with any consideration for him. He’s a massive conjoined twin with 4 eyes and 4 arms and 2 mouths. If you know anything about being tall in Japan, it's that it’s a nightmare. Doorways, showers, bathrooms, and buildings are built for small people which leads to the very infrastructure causing problems for anyone big. But Sukuna’s size is just the start of those kinds of problems. He canonically wears women’s kimonos to accommodate his arms since they have larger sleeves. He often goes shirtless or wears a shawl simply because clothing isn’t made for him.

If you’ve known or read anything by people with mobility issues or missing limbs, a major complaint is clothing. For example someone with a missing leg can either pay for expensive customized pants, or they can purchase regular pants and tie off the extra pant leg. They can have trouble buying one shoe since they almost always come in pairs. (To rectify this sometimes they find a mirror twin called a Sole Mate who they share the extra shoe with.) 

Now if I’ve learned anything from people with mobility issues, it’s that ablebodied people are really fudging annoying and rude. They will grab mobility aids unprompted and even move people around in wheelchairs without permission. In this treatment, the ablebodied dehumanize the disabled and treat them like objects in their way.

Sukuna also experiences objectification in a similar manner. People see him as an obstacle to conquer, a means to test their strength, a helpless thing that needs curing, a test subject to study, and a symbol for their own use. All of these things are extremely dehumanizing and things disabled people may have to deal with.

We’ve got Yuji and co seeing him as a curse to exorcize.

Kashimo and others using Sukuna to test their strength.

Yorozu seeing Sukuna’s lack of interest in romantic/sexual love as a thing to be cured. (Your honor, he is aroace.)

Kenjaku using Sukuna as a test subject and insurance for The Plan.

Heian era society revering him as a god to use him in rituals for their benefit.

The last example is a very interesting form of discrimination. If you aren’t familiar with the term, there is one called benevolent prejudice. This is when discriminatory beliefs are flattering instead of malicious. (Examples: Black people are athletic, Asian people are smart, etc.)

Benevolent prejudice still results in negative outcomes for the group affected, but to me personally, some of them are kind of hilarious in isolation. Here are some of my favorites:

I’m pretty sure this is why Gojo apologizes so readily to Miguel and without resistance. He realizes “oh crap I’m doing to Miguel what everyone does to me”. 

And yes this belief had a negative outcome for Miguel—it’s likely the reason Gojo beat him so hard compared to other characters in the JJK 0 movie. (Remember Gege has direct involvement in the anime.) This is canonically a racially motivated beatdown, trauma response from the black ropes mimicking Toji notwithstanding.

On the ableism side of things this benevolent prejudice can manifest as turning people with deformities or atypical features into objects for worship, fetishization, or sacrifice.

As an aside, I suspect Uraume’s gender is ambiguous because they’re intersex. And boy howdy do intersex people experience dehumanization as objects of worship (fetishization and religious symbols) or as a problem that needs to be corrected (forced surgical procedures/mutilation and erasure). This, in my opinion, might be the reason Sukuna likes them more than anyone else. Uraume may not fully understand the isolation of strength, but they do get the dehumanizing way in which society treats them both.

My point here is that Sukuna experiences regular prejudice and the benevolent type. All of which are dehumanizing from every single angle, leaving him in a state of near constant objectification. (Uraume puts Sukuna on a pedestal as their master which is emotionally isolating but they still see him as an individual on his own merits.)

What constant systemic discrimination does to a motherfudger...

So now that we've established how Sukuna's dehumanization happened, I can rant about how this is probably a major reason behind his disconnect from his humanity and a source of his loneliness.

Gege has stated that Sukuna and other people don’t really know how to categorize his personhood. He's so strong he's more like a natural disaster than anything else.

Sukuna says things like this about himself.

"If I was a cursed spirit…"

"...that's the sort of human I was."

He doesn’t see himself as a human or a curse. At one point he did consider himself human but stopped. He sees himself as this third thing which is highly likely to be a “living creature” as Gojo would put it. 

Gojo also experienced benevolent prejudice that lead to his dehumanization and subsequent objectification (thanks JJK 261 for making me realize it was much worse than I assumed). And from birth too. I think this is why they’re able to connect so well during their fight. Especially since this prejudice leads to them becoming sinks for everyone's burdens while being scorned in the same breath. (It's like how people adore "my kind's" athletic/manual labor abilities but then don't want us in their neighborhoods.) The world isn't made for them but it's going to exploit the very thing it hates them for.

The difference between those two is probably the stares of disgust and day to day inconveniences from the extra parts. Gojo can effectively blend in with other humans if he really tries. Sukuna cannot. (Maybe that’s why he says this too.)

Sukuna to me, feels like a manifestation of this rage against constant systemic discrimination. You look at him funny? He kills you. You treat him like a thing that serves you? He kills you.

I know I'm projecting but hear me out!

I don't think Sukuna was aggressively abused by others for his appearance to get to this point by the way. It's more of a death by 1,000 cuts scenario. Someone crossing the street to avoid you, a flash of revulsion when they look at you, backhanded compliments, name-calling in whispers, gentle reminders you don't belong in infrastructure and accessibility to resources. On their own they feel like paper cuts, but if you experience them constantly without time to recover, one day you look down and realize there's a massive rotting gash.

Thankfully I have friends and spaces where I can exist without being subject to discrimination. I can treat these wounds and keep going relatively ok. When I was a child, I didn't have a proper outlet for that and it ate me alive. I flip flopped between wanting to magically wake up fully white or disappearing entirely and wanting everything to explode. Sometimes I wanted all of these thing at the same time. These old wounds reopen on occasion but I know how to deal with that now.

In Sukuna's behavior and attitude, I see that kind of hurt. And his coping strategy appears to be making everything explode since violence is all he knows. Maybe cannibalism wasn't the healthiest way to deal with this but you know it's Jujutsu Kaisen.

Speaking of cannibalism, the definition of a cannibal is an individual that eats members of their own species. Sukuna is regarded as a non-human by everyone around him in every instance except when he is called a cannibal. He’s not human enough to be a part of society but just human enough to be a cannibal. His status as a human changes in what makes it easiest to disregard him as an individual worthy of respect or consideration. (Think of how conservatives misgender gender non-conforming cis people and then turn around and misgender trans people for hypocritical reasons.) 

Sukuna’s acknowledgement of both Jogo and Gojo is bittersweet with this lens. Jogo is a curse fighting on behalf of curses’ humanity. He wants curses to live as humans after being born lowly and unwanted in a world that wants him erased. Gojo is a human forced into godhood by circumstances he couldn’t control. He’s someone who became isolated and rejected by others until he stopped seeing himself as a human. Sukuna has lived both of these experiences and connects with them in a way no one else can. 

Unfortunately, because Sukuna only knows how to love through violence, he kills them. (Great job, Sukuna, you did this to yourself. You could've had friends.)

I also suspect this is why Sukuna believes this.

This type of society is one in which Sukuna can exist. He can relentlessly pursue the strength through which he builds his self-esteem and be acknowledged as something. However, that is still isolating. And Sukuna is a human, which means he’s a social creature that needs companionship. (Not necessarily romantic or sexual mind you.)

I find Sukuna’s vague suicidal ideation and refusal to die extremely relatable for all these reasons. Much like Gojo, he seems to be convinced the world will never treat him the way he wants to be treated and wants out.

There’s also something to be said about the unique loneliness aromantic and asexual people experience from wanting deep and fulfilling relationships without romance or sex in a world that only values relationships with both of those things.

So why is Sukuna like that?

Despite knowing how much it sucks to be dehumanized, Sukuna still participates in dehumanization himself, referring to humans as insects/animals or things for him to play with. 

And in a Kenjaku parallel, food for him to enjoy as well.

I predict this attitude he has towards humans is the direct result of his dehumanization and objectification for his appearance and strength. It’s all one big unhealthy coping mechanism.

I think this is why Yuji ideologically pisses him off so much. Imagine truly believing all this isolation and suffering for innate characteristics made you stronger, only to find someone who experienced none of that starts rising to your level and shatters your entire world view.

Trauma isn’t something that makes people stronger, but Sukuna likely believes it does as a cope. In my last analysis I called Gojo a sopping-wet pathetic cat who pretends everything is ok. Sukuna is no different if you ask me.

[seresinhangmanjake]

It's What You Make It

Dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake hasn't been on the best of terms with his parents since they found out about you and his baby, and now his mother decides she wants to meet her granddaughter.

Warnings: cursing maybe? Protective Jake

Notes: Suggested by an anon / Part of the Oh, Baby Universe.

Words: 4200

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“Jake, dear, your mother would like to meet her granddaughter.”

It was cruel, really, to have such devastating words leave the lips of one of those he loved the most, but maybe that was why she of all people was tasked with it. He wasn't likely to listen to another on the matter. Hell, had anyone else but she called, he wouldn't have answered, and he struggled not to see it as a bit of a betrayal. A trick.

"Gram," he sighed into the phone, running a hand through his hair, "I'm not doing this with them. After everything we just faced with her mother, why should we put ourselves through dealing with mine?"

"You know she had nothing to do with that email."

"Yea and nothing to do with discouraging it, either."

The other end of the line went silent. Jake looked to his left where his daughter was being bounced on her mother's lap just out of earshot. You smiled at the girl, but the stone now sitting on Jake's heart kept it from swelling as it normally would at the sight of your brightened face. 

His perfect little family. Safe and sound in California. Far from Texas. Far from the people you'd yet to learn criticized you for your past choices. 

When you first asked about them, Jake couldn't hide the fact that his parents were displeased with the coming of his daughter. He'd blamed it on their lack of open-mindedness to the girl being brought into his life under ‘unique’ circumstances, and while that was in fact a part of it, the bulk of their problems they placed solely in you and not trusting why you bothered to return when you left him to begin with. They buried you under a mountain of their judgment and you were completely unaware. But that was how he wanted to keep it. He wanted you in the dark. Oddly enough, the darkness was where you were safest. And that plan had been working so well, too. You had a healthy understanding of the difficulty of parents, and after the way your mother treated him the month prior you hadn't pressured him for more information on his. 

I only care about the three of us, Jake. As long as we're together, nothing else matters—that's what you'd said. You sealed that promise with a kiss that led to hours in bed full of sex and naps and cuddles and what felt like hundreds of exchanges of 'I love yous'. 

The issue with his parents wasn't brought up again.

And now his grandmother was ruining it. 

"What do you expect of me, Gram?" he asked; the first of his rapid-fire questions. "To bring them there? To subject them to that? You really want me to hurt my girlfriend? My daughter? What even makes you think Mom cares to see Eve? There's no way she admitted—"

"Breathe, dear," she soothed. And Jake did as told, but it didn't make him feel the slightest bit better. "I saw it in her eyes."

He sighed, chest noticeably deflating. "Oh, come on. I love you, Gram, but seriously?"

"Jacob Seresin, you hush," she scolded, her voice raised and tinny through the speaker. "You asked me a question, so listen up."

Jake grumbled, defeated. The senior Eve had that power over him. She was the mother his mother should have been. She taught him plenty and raised him well. He knew how to respect his woman because of his Gram. He treated you the way you deserved because she made sure to instill in him the value of women where his own parents had failed to do. 

So he listened. 

"When I returned from my visit a couple of weeks ago, your mother snuck in the casual question or two whenever your father wasn't around," she explained. "And I told her. Anything she cared to know. That Eve is beautiful and her mother is a stunner." Jake's lips curved upward despite the anxiety building in his chest. "That your girls are perfect. That you are happier than I've ever seen you."

"...And?"

"And she nodded and got a little grin on her face."

Jake waited for more, but it didn't come. His hand rose and fell, smacking against the side of his thigh. "That's your only argument to encourage surrendering the happiness of my family to a couple of snakes?"

"Snakes?" He could practically see the roll of her eyes. "Really, dear?"

"I read you the email."

The email he'd received a few weeks after he got you back and learned of his daughter's existence. The one that spat aggressive levels of disappointment in him, and called you an abundance of names that nearly had him crushing his phone in his palm. The one that expressed very clearly his parents' refusal to acknowledge the woman he loved and his baby as their family.

"No," Jake said as he shook his head. "No, I'm not doing it."

"I'm not saying you have to, dear. I'm just telling you that there is someone else who might want to be a part of your daughter's life. That's more family for Eve to be surrounded by. Another person to love her."

—-

He’d promised her he’d think about it. And while he really wished he could forget her words, they were persistent, nagging, and unwilling to get out of his way; like a damn fly buzzing around his face during all hours of his days and nights. 

His grandmother was wise and she was clever to tap into one of his life’s motivations: to provide his daughter with as much love as possible. Though Eve did have love—from him, from you, his team, his grandmother—the potential for so much more was taken away from her. 

She didn’t see your family. They lived across the country and after the way your mother behaved, you’d pretty much cut her off for the time being. His sister’s husband was in the Air Force, stationed at Aviano in Italy with no set date of return. And his parents had made their opinions clear, so he felt it best to never let you or Eve around them. But doing what he believed was best didn’t stop the guilt of denying Eve her family, of not giving her enough. He thought about Christmas coming up and how she wouldn’t have her grandparents. He thought about the major events in her life to come; the birthdays and school plays, the graduations, and the, hopefully only, wedding. 

Wait, he stopped himself, scratch the wedding. No wedding. How could his daughter possibly have a wedding if she would never be dating to begin with? 

But there was still enough remaining to worry him. 

Jake didn’t want a day to come when Eve looked around the room and wondered why she didn’t have the people in her life that her friends at school did. She deserved everything he could possibly give her, and his grandmother calling to inform him he wasn’t providing that was a stab to the heart. 

“You’re lost.” 

The voice—your voice—was one of two powerful enough to crack the thick shell surrounding his thoughts. 

Your fingers wove through his hair as he focused his vision on your face, letting the fog clear to make out the perfection he saw in each feature. You wiggled on the mattress, inching your body closer to his and he lifted his arm to drape over your waist. 

“What’s going on?” you asked. “You’ve been zoning out for three days.”

He wouldn’t lie to you—never could. And even if he tried, it would be a waste of breath with the way you managed to sniff out untruths like a damn bloodhound. The information he didn’t tell you he always preferred to label as ‘omissions.’ Those could just barely slip by your clever brain. And he’d only ever done it twice; when he’d neglected to spill his hidden love, and when he hadn’t provided you with all the details of his father’s email. Both seemed like good ideas at the time. Necessary. But now…

“According to Gram,” Jake sighed, “my mother wants to meet Eve.”

You tried to control your face, but the ceasing of your nails grazing across his scalp was enough to tell him you were plenty shocked. Likely plenty terrified, too, with the trauma of the last parental interaction.

“Oh.” You blinked once, twice, three times, as your lips parted and sealed and parted again. “So, that means…what? They're fine with everything now?"

"I doubt it, but…" Jake bit the inside of his cheek. Shook his head. “Honey, I’m really not sure.”

“You trust them?”

“No.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know, not even after three days of thought. He cared about protecting his family, but whether or not introducing his mother to you and his daughter would be a choice he'd come to regret was hard to say. “What do you think we should do?”

“Baby, your family, your decision.”

With a groan, Jake pulled you closer and turned onto his back, settling your body on top of his. 

“But you’re so much smarter than me,” he said, wrapping his arms snuggly around your waist and tilting his chin up for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, despite the weight of the conversation surely causing you as much unease as it was him. You let him kiss you for as long as he wanted. Like you knew just how badly he needed it in that moment. How badly he needed you. 

“You’re no idiot, Jake Seresin," you said when he decided it was fair to let you breathe. "I’ll do whatever you think is best.”

He hummed, pushing some of your hair back behind your shoulder. “Why do you have to be so damn supportive and reasonable?”

You smiled so sweetly. Leaned in closer. 

“Because I trust you," you whispered, letting your lips slowly travel around his face, pressing gentle kisses where you could. "And I believe in you."

You pulled back, locking your eyes with his, and as you stroked his cheek, you said, “Because you’re my teammate, Jake.” 

He let your words soak in—filling him, sating him—before taking a deep inhale through his nose. On the heavy exhale he released a breathy “Fuck.”

You chuckled. “What?”

“It’s just extremely hot when you say shit like that and I am trying to make a decision that really isn’t helped by my dick getting hard.”

He swelled larger in his underwear as he spoke and he could see the very second that mischievous glint took root in your eye.

“Aw," you pouted, slightly grinding your hips into his, making his breath hitch, "Does my man get turned on by commitment?"

His fingers dug into your waist to hold you still, and with a scowl, he said, "You already knew that so quit teasing me."

“Who's teasing?" You asked as you gave him a peck. "You've been distracted for three days, and I miss you. So let me take your mind off it. Then we can get some sleep and talk it over in the morning."

He loved you for that. That you knew him enough to refrain from pushing him in any direction. You knew enough to know when he needed a distraction from the things that most bothered him. 

"Deal," he whispered. Then his fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your face closer to his. 

—-

It wasn't talked about in the morning. Not that one nor the weeks worth that followed. The distraction Jake had been so thankful for continued to find itself in the forms of wake-up sex, and invigorating work days, and evenings filled with dedicated family time—things he actually cared about. Thinking about what to do with his mother had been bothersome enough that at the first chance to brush it aside, it slipped from his mind without effort. And he didn’t care, just as he didn’t care how his life had completely split after his father sent that email. 

It was a clean severing, like a hot blade through butter, and the two new parts were far from equal. You and his daughter occupied one chunk of his divided world—the larger of the two—and the other chunk was where his parents remained, dwarfed under the shadow of its massive counterpart. It was too easy to let go of that extra bit that was hanging off the end of what was an otherwise perfect life, so he did. 

He didn’t follow up with his grandmother—

A mistake he discovered when his mother walked through the front door of the Hard Deck and disrupted the peace surrounding his little family.

His trio had decided to have lunch with Rooster at the bar well before opening hours, and it was the lack of overlapping voices, clinking glasses, and occasional drunken shouting which allowed for the clicking of heels across hardwood flooring to echo clearly throughout the room. 

Three voices went eerily silent, the only continuous sound being that of Eve shaking her rattle toy, lost in the sweet ignorance of childhood and completely oblivious to the thickness that had just swelled throughout the bar. 

Jake glared at his grandmother who was just off to the side of her daughter-in-law. She stared back, a look of complete innocence on her face until she grew bored with silent standoff and, with a roll of her eyes, made a beeline for you and Eve. She smiled wide, immediately popping the bubble that was holding everyone hostage, to give you a little hug around the shoulders before kissing the top of Eve’s head. 

“Oh, I missed you,” she said as huddled beside the small girl.

Jake stood from the rounded table and crossed his arms over his chest, the movement broadening his shoulders and thickening his muscles, like an animal determined to protect his mate and cub from any predator bold enough to test him. And as far as he was concerned, that was exactly what he was looking at. The woman standing still as a statue twenty feet from him was not someone he recognized anymore. He couldn’t guarantee that her next move would not be in the form of a threat, so he didn’t risk it. 

His mother raised her hand in a wave weakened by uncertainty. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Her voice was meeker than he expected, and she stood less confidently than he’d ever known in his thirty-four years. Her styled hair and perfectly painted nails and carefully applied makeup suddenly seemed unnatural on the woman before him, like an ill-fitting costume hanging off her body with an uneasy facial expression to match. 

“Gram,” Jake began, a deep grit to his tone. He didn’t tear his eyes away from his mother. “What did you do?”

Without glancing her way, Jake knew his grandmother had taken his seat at the table, holding his daughter and likely making silly faces at her as she inserted herself in what was his pleasant weekend.

“You two need to talk,” she said. There was a smile in her voice. A giggle from Eve. “You weren’t going to make the first move, and she was coming either way, so I figured it would be best if I tagged along.”

The crease in Jake’s brow deepened. That was not enough for him. “No warning?”

“Nope. You wouldn’t have agreed.”

He shook his head. His mother still hadn’t moved. 

"Is he here?" Jake finally asked her.

His mother startled at his directness, but she recovered after a moment’s passing and took a step closer that Jake immediately made up by taking a step back. She paused. "Jake—"

"Is he here?" he snapped.

The new silence in the aftermath of his sharp tone was loud, terribly loud, and long-lasting. Painfully so.

"Uh, family?" Rooster suddenly said from behind him. "Why don't we take a little walk on the beach."

Chairs scraped across the floor and Jake couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so thankful for his friend. Rooster was the only other person to know the full truth of what was said about Jake’s girlfriend and daughter, and he undoubtedly felt the storm brewing. A storm he knew Jake wouldn’t want his family to witness. 

No one argued, and as the others made their way outside, you appeared in front of him, breaking the tension of his steady stare. He looked at you, making sure to soften the hard edge in his eyes to soothe the worry in yours, but it didn’t work. His smile was tight-lipped and brief.

"Go with them, Honey," he whispered with a nod toward the door. He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles before running his thumb over the top of them. "It's ok."

He tried that smile again, but the expression on your face made it known he was no more convincing than before.

With your free hand you cupped his cheek, then you stood up on your toes to press your lips to his—a little token of strength. When you stepped away from him, you snuck a quick look at his mother before you were on your way, following everyone else out the back door onto the beach. 

Only once you were out of his sight did Jake allow his eyes to land back on his mother.

She swallowed hard, her shaky hands clasped in front of her. "She's lovely," she said.

"She is," he replied, crossing his arms once again, stony glare back in place. "Where's Dad?"

Her nerves radiated through the room. He could practically see them—thin wiggly lines emanating from her form. 

"He's on a business trip. He doesn't even know I came. I just wanted to meet them. I'm only here for a couple of days and—"

"What happens when he finds out?” Jake interjected. “He'll lose his mind. He’ll show up here, and he won't walk away without making his point clear when it comes to my girlfriend and baby."

He could feel his voice raising as he continued to speak, but he couldn’t restrain himself. The pure rage he’d been trying to tamp down for months was yanked to the surface now that he was looking directly into the eyes of someone who had no issue insulting you, and therefore, hurting him. 

She said his name again, but the overwhelming combination of her gentle tone and the pain swirling in her irises had tears beginning to coat his own, a stinging at his nose. 

It pissed him off.

"He isn't coming anywhere near them,” Jake practically growled, that internal animal determined to protect his family slipping through the calm demeanor he’d been so close to regaining. “Do you understand me? After the things he said, the things he called her? It's not happening."

His mother nodded. "I understand."

"That little girl is mine. I'm not being tricked into raising someone else's kid!"

"I know, sweetheart,” she said as she attempted a step closer. He flinched but didn’t move away. She took another step. “Gram showed me a picture of her. She looks just like you." 

He frowned at her hint of a smile, at her hand extending his way like to earn the trust of an aggressive puppy. 

"Jake, I'm so sorry,” She near whispered. She was closer than he realized—he blamed it on his blurring vision—and her palm tentatively landed on his forearm. “This is not how I wanted things to be. You’re my son. The woman you love is outside that door and she birthed my granddaughter.” Her fingers lightly squeezed. “The last thing I want is to be alienated from the family you’ve made.”

For what felt like the hundredth time in the last week, Jake didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think right. He felt lost, and the only things capable of bringing him to safety were not within grabbing distance, separated from him by a door that might as well have been a mile away. 

Another palm met his other forearm and his arms were carefully untwined. One of his hands was sandwiched between two smaller ones. He couldn’t decide if it was comforting. 

He’d never been terribly close to her, less close to his father, but it didn’t change that she was, in fact, his mother. He’d always feel a bond, in some form. And knowing that her actions, her words, or lack thereof, were too often influenced by being under his father’s thumb stuck in the back of his mind. Rarely did she drift, knowing she’d have to face his frustration, but she had this time, for him, for his child, and it made things all the more difficult. Confusing. 

"I know what was said was…horrible. And—" Her eyelids briefly closed as she shook her head. She blew out a subtle breath before looking up at him. “I know I didn't do anything about it. I didn't call you and tell you I wasn't on his side in this. But that's what I'm doing now."

His lips parted but she continued.

“If it doesn’t work, if you don’t want me around them, then I’ll go. I’ll respect that, sweetheart, but I just wanted to try.”

The longer she stood there, the longer she had her hands around his, looking as desperate as she did, the harder it was for Jake to maintain the same depth of anger that he’d been so attached to. It seeped away with the nagging obligation to let her try to be a grandmother to his daughter. Not just for his mother, but for Eve. His baby girl, for whom he would willingly spend his entire life trying to provide everything she deserved and more. 

Jake sighed. 

“You can meet them,” he said, “But—”

She smiled. “That’s enough for now. I wouldn’t ask for more.”

Good. He wouldn’t give her more. Not now. Not until he saw for himself how she behaved around you and his baby. 

Nodding, he said, “Come on, then.”

He could feel her nerves again as they stepped out the back door of the bar, but the moment he saw your face, all of his attention went to you and what you were going to think about what he’d just agreed to. 

You only gave a brief look to his mother, a small smile with it, before your eyes were back on his. The question in them he responded to with a nod, then his mother stepped out from behind him. She hadn’t a chance to get a good look at Eve when she arrived, but now that the girl was right in front of her, snuggled in your arms, his mother couldn’t peel her eyes away. 

Her hand raised to cover her mouth and muffle the light sob that escaped as she stared in awe at the girl. She eased over to you.

"Could I—" She started but hesitated.

Jake understood her pause. His mother was asking another mother—a woman she didn’t truly know—if she could hold her baby. And what mother would hand her child over to a stranger? He respected her for recognizing that. For not assuming she had a claim on his child. 

A relationship with Eve would be a gift to her, but not one she could demand. It was a gift that must be granted. A decision; His and yours. And while he had decided he was ok with his mother being around Eve, you, too, would have to agree. 

“Would it be alright with you if I held her?” his mother finally asked. 

You looked at Jake again and he nodded again—extra reassurance that he trusted the intentions of the woman asking you to hand over your entire world. 

Smile spreading across your face, you said, “Of course,” and lifted Eve in his mother’s direction. 

"Oh…gosh,” she breathed, settling the girl on her hip. "You're so wonderful, aren't you." 

Her words were breaking as they left her lips, but she continued to murmur sweet praises as she hugged the baby girl close, and kissed the top of her blonde head, and ran her fingers over the much smaller ones. His mother looked at and held her son’s daughter as if she were unreal, delicate, breakable. And that’s exactly what she was. Eve was a miracle—one that brought her parents together again when it seemed so horribly unlikely, and she needed to be treated as such.

Jake’s heart squeezed so beautifully at the sight, and the tears he thought had come and gone threatened to reemerge. He felt full. Oddly complete in a way he didn’t anticipate. 

It was uncomfortable to realize how much he wanted that acceptance, for himself, for you, for his child, but he couldn’t deny the relief of seeing his mother care. Not judging but loving the way he chose to live his life despite it being so different than what was expected of him. 

A brush against his hand pulled him away from the scene. You tugged on his fingers and grinned when his eyes met yours. You pulled more, but Jake was already moving to sit beside you on the bench. 

“You ok?” you asked as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him. 

“I’m giving it a chance,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’ll see.”

----

A/N: this will have a 2nd part.

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