#Okay but you should look them up their characteristics actually fit very well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tarotwithlove · 2 years

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pick a card: pick a van gogh painting

.｡*♡ messages for you; what do you need to hear right now?

group 1 : enclosed field with ploughman, 1889 / group 2 : stairway at auvers, 1890 / group 3 : oleanders, 1888

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

personal readings are open! look at my pinned post, carrd or dm for more information.

feedback, constructive criticism, requests and tips are appreciated, pp cupidfemme

IMPORTANT NUMBERS: 707 · 404 · 555 · 5555

1. ENCLOSED FIELD WITH PLOUGHMAN, 1889

“many of wheat field theme paintings van gogh made during this time period are similar and all include the huge glowing orb of the sun, which he had come to view with a religious symbolism. the overall yellow tonality of this picture, bar the strip of mountains and wheat field, makes the peasant toiling in the field almost a part of the field itself, and similarly the lines of the figure match the fluid curves of the bending wheat field.”

channeled song: good night by nct

“i'll hold you in my arms and comfort you, good night, my love” • “it's okay, the pain is temporary” • “don't be in pain i'll be with you, don't even worry in your dreams because i'm here”

cards pulled: knight of swords (reversed), death (reversed), nine of wands

hey there, group one ♡ right now things may not be going very well for you, are they? you're filled with energy and motivation but, with nowhere to direct it and just wanting to put it somewhere, anywhere, so that it does not feel like it's all going to waste, you may be acting far too rashly. you may be feeling overwhelmed because it seems that everything you do fails despite your effort and passion.

there is change waiting for you, but you are so overwhelmed and stuck on past mindsets and patterns of behaviour that you aren't allowing them into your life.

opportunities are being granted to you that you do not accept out of fear. you have worked so hard and put in so much effort and overcome so much, and you must know that you are deserving of these opportunities. you might be looking back with regrets, wondering what would have happened if you had said “yes” instead of “no” but this does not serve you. look forward instead and do not give up, even if you feel like now is the time to do so. you are incredibly held and supported by not only god and spirit but those who love you, even if it may seem as if there are only people who do not. every obstacle, every hardship, is truly only making you stronger and shaping you into the universe's best version of you.

know that you are completely capable, that your efforts will not go to waste, and that it is okay to slow down. actually, you are being begged to slow down, even for a moment; to take some time to rest in order to strengthen yourself for this final hurdle before you meet your achievements.

2. STAIRWAY AT AUVERS, 1890

“in one of his final letters, van gogh described auvers as “of a grave beauty, the real countryside, characteristic and picturesque.””

channeled song: winterlude '17 – simon dominic

cards pulled: four of pentacles, eight of cups, four of swords

hey there, group two ♡ the message that i have for you is that, right now, you are being asked to re-examine your relationship with money and what is it being affected by. this relationship with money may be such that it is greatly restricting you from enjoying your life, and may be seeing you fall into one of two extremes: either saving and stockpiling out of fear of poverty or financial hardship, or spending too much, only finding pleasure in the material, and not saving enough, so that when you do need money you may not have any.

while, for one, it is important to save and invest, this process should not occur at the expense of your happiness and freedom. money is meant to flow to and through you to others; it is a tool meant to give you the life that you deserve, and has come to you through very hard work and should, thus, serve it's purpose in serving you. whether you are saving too much or spending too much, while you must honour and respect money, you must not place all your value on your wealth and material possessions. your relationship with money may be strongly affected by something in your life that from which you may be thinking of walking away. something that is deeply exhausting you. you may be wondering what would happen if you walk away, and what spirit wants you to know, is that, if you choose to do so, you will be much happier. walking away and taking some time to rest, to introspect and confront certain fears instead of pretending or ignoring them in the hopes that they disappear, will greatly help you with these issues. it may be the right moment to, for instance, look at yourself and ask yourself, how much is viewing yourself through your material wealth affecting the genuine happiness in your life?

now is not the time to overexert yourself, for financial gain most of all. it is the time to gather your strength and rest from how much you have exhausted yourself in attempting to attain the material unattainable. give your mind and body the break it needs in order to approach the new perspective on life and these issues that awaits you. because a new perspective does await you, and healing too, you just need to embrace the fear of confronting yourself first.

3. OLEANDERS, 1888

“for van gogh, oleanders were joyous, life-affirming flowers that bloomed "inexhaustibly" and were always "putting out strong new shoots."”

channeled song: “break my soul” by beyoncé

“and i'm on that new vibration i'm buildin' my own foundation · got motivation (motivation), i done found me a new foundation, yeah (new foundation), i'm takin' my new salvation (oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, new salvation)”

cards pulled: eight of swords, page of cups, seven of swords

hey there, group three ♡ i am seeing a lot of anxiety in your current situation. you may be feeling restricted, trapped and limited in your options; in this oppressive situation, be it physical or mental, in which you may not feel safe and protected and from which you can see no way out. you want to escape and find freedom and a new lease on life but you do not know how.

what may be difficult to hear, especially if you have been waiting and hoping for someone to come into your life and save you, is that the ability to save yourself lies within you. you and no one else. so many of these restrictions are self-imposed and motivated by the self-limiting mindset that you have adopted in the face of stress. this overthinking does not serve you. what will serve you right now is to confront this difficult situation or what is worrying you instead of ignoring it and hoping that it magically disappears, or that, somehow, you are magically saved from it.

you may be looking at your current situation and feeling drained of inspiration and motivation. you may have had a dream that has not yet been realised and that you have come to believe will never be realised. but do not give up. approach the dream differently if you must, but persist, because everything is possible right now for you. yes it might take freeing yourself from your current situation or mindset first, but do not let that demotivate you. you have endless potential to free yourself and achieve your dreams and your guides are looking after you as you go through all of this.

#tarot community #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot reading #tarot #witchblr #tarotblr #tarot blog #witch of color #first attempt at a pac 😵#said cain #spirituality #spiritualism #**

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mamawasatesttube · 1 year

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So, I'm not a writer, but I am very curious 👀 What do you look for in a fic that features Kon? 👀 What kind of things do you want Kon to do, or experience? 👀 What characteristics of Kon do you absolutely wanna see? 👀 What characteristics of Kon you didn't like but want to see adressed in a fic? 👀 When you're writing, what are three major things about Kon that you MUST INCLUDE NO MATTER WHAT? 👀👀👀 Sorry about the many questions!!!!!

OHHHH this is such a good question okay okay okay. let's see.

what do i look for? primarily, kon having an actual character voice. that's the lowest bar to clear (and yet already takes out... a good chunk of the fics ive seen in the kon character tag 😭😭). he needs to be silly, geeky, deeply kind, earnest, etc. not every fic featuring him will necessarily get into the way he's also existentially lonely and has a Lot of sadness and self-esteem issues (esp after rex leech's roller coaster incident. this has been on my mind today. ough. his self-image never recovered after that one!) but by GOD does he have his issues, so if its a fic going into emotions i want it to do right by his. will def admit thats smth im incredibly picky about.

as for stuff i want him doing? honestly i am here for so much!! i want soft simple character studies. i want action showcasing how fucking powerful ttk can be, especially with a dose of creativity to its use. i want wacky yj space adventures. i want good good whump and hurt/comfort. i want him getting swept off his feet. you could sell me on almost any plot if it's well-written.

re: characteristics... i don't really split them up quite like that, i think! he's a well-rounded character, and that includes both strengths and flaws. ideally, a good fic will include both of these and represent them fairly (like, he's not perfect by any means, and he can do stupid things and struggle with personal issues, but on the other hand very few things tick me off more than portrayals where he's just completely incompetent and dumb as a rock, lmao).

BUT REGARDING MY OWN WRITING. ohhohoohoohooho three things i ALWAYS have to include? a) geek-ass loser (affectionate). i think it is SO endearing and also very humanizing as a quality that he's a trekkie/wendy fan/star wars nerd/etc. b) mixed-race metaphors. they may not be overt depending on the piece but the "child of two worlds that doesn't quite fit into either" thing is Deeply intentional. and c) HES A JUGGERNAUT!!!! i firmly believe adult fully realized kon (a kryptonian, with full kryptonian powers, WITH TTK) is a force of fucking nature. i like this so much and i specifically also always like it when he is at any given moment about 0.4 seconds from freaking the fuck out about how it's Too much strength.

to me, kon is a character made of some very delicious contradictions. he's so painfully human and yet grapples hard with his own personhood and humanity. he's a kryptonian and an alien but he's a child of earth. he's terrified of his own power. he wants nothing more than to protect everyone he loves (and everyone he doesn't love, too). he's always ready to crack a joke or make a silly reference, but he is deeply sad and spent so much of his early life suicidal. he contains multitudes. (and this isn't even getting into my hcs on his gender/sexuality crisis! ksjdhf)

i feel like a gripe i often find myself having when looking for kon fics is that he often gets slotted into the role of "emotional support boyfriend with no personality or role of his own" though, which i guess is why "does he have a distinct character voice?" is my first litmus test for whether i'd want to keep reading or not.

a good kon fic will embrace all his contradictions, i think. (a good fic for any character, really, should show them as well-rounded and three-dimensional.) and i for one love his Problems and Issues, bc man, it's a very fun space to play in! <3

#thank you this was fun to answer!! ive been ruminating on it for a good chunk of the day tbh!#kon #rimi talks #answers #thefantasmarex

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nicofics · 6 months

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hey so uhm I saw you wanted to write sumthing so I decided to tell u this request :3 maybe like.. a lucifer x male, god mc reader that is a son of The goddess Nyx? Nyx is the goddess of night and has ALOT of children. And by alot I mean 1000+. She's also feared by Zeus! Also something I copied off of google -> “Children of Nyx can telekinetically move and transform their shadow constructs. The more constructs moved and the bigger they are, the more energy is drained. Children of Nyx have the ability to create intangible stars, which will light an area for a short time.„ just so you don't have to research for an huge amount of time! So yeah, male god MC/reader that's very wise, the oldest sibling, strict and more or less overly calm, protective and emotionless, lives in the celestial realm. Have fun :3 also make sure to eat and drink well, don't rush yourself and make sure to take all the time you need.

𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞 𝙨𝙚𝙚

𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

summary: you meet a certain demon during the exchange program

notes: i hope you like this!! i tried to get the characteristics in but idk how well i did 😭 im working on some hcs so they should be up by friday!!

you had just come from the celestial realm, though you were certainly not happy about leaving all your siblings behind, you knew to follow your mothers orders; plus, you could take care of yourself, maybe thats why she chose you? anyways. you were standing in the middle of the hall, 8 large demons standing in front of you, you weren’t scared, quite the opposite actually, there were two angels beside you. you had seen them about but you didn’t know much about them. after the biggest demon, lord diavolo, gave you a rundown on how everything was going to work, lucifer escorted you to the house of lamentation.

once you arrived at the large house, lucifer opened the door to you, he hadn’t seemed to stop watching your every movement like a hawk, perhaps he was wary of you? your mother is scary to some. looking around the entrance hall to the house of lamentation you couldn’t help but gawk at just how large it is, you knew how siblings were, and how destructive they could be, but still, this house was like as if it came straight out of a fairy tale

“this is where you’ll be sleeping, mc” lucifer opened a door by the stairs, a big enough room with a tree in the middle, strange, but you didn’t question it, you’ve seen weirder. “thanks” you respond, not showing much emotion while you talk, lucifer was almost taken aback, not expecting you to be so calm about the whole ordeal, luke had been upset, why not you?

“i’ll come get you at dinner, please, get comfortable until then” you gave lucifer a small nod, he then exited the room. while he was gone, you looked around the room, finding clothes that fitted you, a surprisingly comfortable bed and a bookshelf, great, now you can read in your free time

while you lay on your bed, you heard a knock on the door, you quietly walk up, twist the door knob and open it, only to reveal lucifer, again. he seemed to have a strange fascination with you, he wondered why. “dinner will be ready soon, please, let me take you down” “yes, okay” you responded, following lucifer down the grand staircase and into the spectacular dining hall. all the other six brothers were already there, eating their dinner.

lucifer guided you to a seat, handing you a plate and sitting down beside you, he knew of your status, yet still he found himself drawn to you, as if you were pulling him along on a leash. “how are you enjoying it here so far, mc?” he asked, curious of your response, hoping its been good. you gave a small nod, “it’s been fine” you took a bite of the food, it’s nothing like you’ve ever tasted before, but it was good.

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odinsblog · 2 years

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After at least three of the recent shootings, conservative pundits have railed about how the police should have acted on red flags. Immediately after Parkland, a young man was arrested for planning a shooting. Those same pundits, in this case, keep talking about how "it's not a crime to talk about shooting people, it's not a crime to own a gun and plan to use it on people." So how are cops supposed to act on red flags, then?

I was listening to a cop talking about this very thing (the Buffalo shooting) on NPR, and he literally literally literally said, “Well, we did check him out after he was caught planning to shoot up his school, but he was cleared and deemed to be okay. How could we have known he was going to go and shoot up a church?” And by this point, I’m fucking yelling at my speaker,… like my dude, my fucking guy, YOU JUST CAUGH HIM ABOUT TO SHOOT UP HIS SCHOOL. WHY TF WOULD YOU EVER GIVE HIM ACCESS TO GUNS AGAIN? Why? Why??

In this case, the red flag law actually worked. It did what it was supposed to do—it alerted all the right authorities that someone who should not have a gun, in fact, did have a gun. And not just any old gun, but an AR-15. So the system actually did what it was supposed to do. But for some reason, white men in this country have it stuck in their gun nut loving “brains” that it’s cruel and unusual punishment to keep a white male and his gun separated from each other. So they either gave him the weapons back after a way too brief waiting period, or they allowed him to retrieve his weapons, or they didn’t block his ability to purchase/access a weapon. Sorry, but if you ever get caught planning to shoot up a school or any other place, then guess what? You should forever forfeit your “right” to gun ownership.

Gun ownership is not some sacrosanct right. Most people in America are not gun owners, and people live long happy lives without ever owning a gun, or needing to overcompensate for their shortcomings by hoarding a bunch of stupid ass phallic symbols.

SN: For anyone not from the U.S., whenever you hear the news saying that there are more guns than people in America, it’s true—but that doesn’t mean everyone in America actually owns a gun. If my neighbor owns 6 guns, and I own none, the “average” “gun ownership” between us is still 3 guns. It’s a simple mathematical average, but it’s misleading. Rural folks are, on average, more likely to be gun owners than city dwellers; urban areas outnumber rural areas population wise; and most rural areas skew heavily Republican; the less populated rural areas have more voting power than the more densely populated urban areas; you can see where this is going.

Anyway, I said earlier that the red flag system worked this time, but it is very far from perfect. The weak links are the police, judges and others who get to determine whether or not someone is “mentally fit” afterwards. And those people will statistically likely either be white and/or male gun nuts themselves, or they’re afraid that not giving a white boy his gun back will put them on some rightwing shit list. So that’s one glaring problem that has unfortunately been proven with the lives of innocent Black people who were simply trying to get some groceries.

Another problem is, more things should trigger red flags. For example, whenever someone buys a shitload of bullets, a fucking alarm bell should go off. Is the purchaser a male? The alarm should get louder. Is it a white male? Louder. Did this person recently have an “altercation” with a woman?? LOUDER. Is it a male of a certain age group??? Fucking everyone in the same zip code should be able to hear these alarm bells going off by now. We already know the common characteristics of mass shooters. It’s not like it’s a big mystery or anything.

And where are these 18yr old dudes getting that kind of money from? Guns and bullets ain’t cheap. Someone is helping them obtain those things, and they need to be held accountable too. Look, I have a (very small) bar in my house. I also have friends who will always be, for want of a better phrase, recovering alcoholics. I know this. They know this. I’m not a psyche major or anything, but I understand as a rational adult, there are certain people who I cannot just leave alone with my bar when they visit, or whenever they stay at my place when I’m out of town. If they go get liquor on their own, that’s on them. But it’s on me if I leave them alone with something I know can destroy their lives. I bear some responsibility for their wellbeing. And no, I’m not talking about “in a court of law” kind of responsibility, I’m talking about what me, Odin, fucking knows to be wrong.

Anyway, similarly, I’m talking about responsibility. Culpability. The people who fund these 18yr old shooters are culpable af. And the cop, or the judge or the psychiatrist who says, “Okay, enough time has passed. NOW they can have their people-killing-machine back,” are responsible too. Not to mention the people who sell the guns and ammo to anyone with enough money.

TLDR; We have a very broken sociopolitical system here in America. This doesn’t happen in any other country. Other countries have violent video games and people with mental health issues. And here in the U.S. we don’t even wanna fund mental healthcare or any healthcare—not that the mentally ill are prone to violence; they are actually more likely to be the victims of violence (including victims of police brutality). Too many people honestly believe that wearing a face mask for 10 minutes in a grocery store is tyranny, but routinely predictable mass shootings is just an acceptable cost of “freedom.” ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And on a tangentially related note: the U.S. Supreme Court just declared that “innocence is not enough” to overturn a death penalty case?? We live in a fucking clown ass joke of a country. Don’t ever let anyone convince you that America is civilized.

#anon #ask #answered #buffalo shooting #guns #republicans #gun nuts #2a #gun violence #odin rants

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wimbledonsoot · 2 years

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[the fall] - CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS (ep.1)

you meet up with your best friend and decide on a theme for your shared english project. later, your cover as a superhero is blown during a fight with a certain set of vigilantes.

trigger warnings for this chapter: nothing beyond the TWs mentioned in the description

word count: 2.3k

If there's someone you could describe as funny, its Technoblade.

Now, it's not like he's funny in the classical sense of the word. His dry sense of humor doesn't appeal to everyone and it's cost him more than one friend, but it gets you laughing your ass off every time you hear him.

It's great.

And look, there's a reason you're friends. It's not like you don't share a sense of humour - actually the very opposite. The dry cracks at random things that might be classified as dark humour are a characteristic that you share.

Plus, horror movie nights are always something you can laugh at (the guys running away? looks so fucking ridiculous, right?)

So when Techno cracks a joke at the fact that Dream looks like a fucking train wreck after that fight with the vigilantes labelled as The Syndicate during one of your work-hangouts, you should be laughing. You know that. But although you share Techno's dark sense of humour, you can't laugh about the fact that your friend was the one stumbling back into headquarters with a broken rib and an expected recovery period of three weeks.

If you ever see those vigilantes again, you'll go up against them yourself.

Even though you aren't really... used to fighting against real life people.

Yes, you're a superhero, but you stick to the sidelines. Your powers - at least the way you've learnt to utilize them - are more suited to subtle manipulation anyway. A trick of the light here, a flash there, and the vigilantes your team are going up against are distracted, and thus easier to incapacitate. The best part? You're sitting in a chair at headquarters, doing your part from the sidelines. You're vital, but you don't need to put yourself at risk.

It's easier to live a normal life that way too.

You frown, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. You notice that Techno's staring, toying, perhaps, with asking you if you're okay. If he does, you'll say you just zoned out. Its not a lie.

"Y/N?" He asks.

"Hmm?"

"You good? You didn't uh... laugh," Techno says. Then, he adds: "That sounded desperate."

"It did," you confirm, laughing slightly. Your little mishap forgotten, Techno laughs too.

"So," you pause, steadying your breath, "Do you want to work on the English project now?"

Techno smiles, nods. "We had an idea, didn't we?" He pauses, pulls out his notebook (the cover's decked in doodles, not all are good, but the man gets so incredibly bored in class that it makes sense). "Ah, right," the page he flips open too has a large drawing of a trojan horse in the center, and the rest of it is covered in his indecipherable scrawl. The project idea you had comes to you.

"Right. The uh... trojan horse allusion thingy."

Techno snorts, "Yeah, the trojan horse allusion thingy."

"Jerk."

"That's a weak-ass insult Y/N, you can do better," he teases. Instead of rising to the challenge with words, you leap forward, crashing into him and effectively pushing him into the pillows. He laughs loudly as his pink hair flies into his face. It's an adorable sight - your heart warms in your chest.

You slowly get off of him, sliding backwards so that you're leaning against the opposite wall.

The bed you guys are sitting on is Techno's, and like everything else in his room, it's been put in a place that's weird, but somehow makes sense. He has this little nook in the side of his room (well, not so little) which is right by the bay window looking out towards their backyard, and apparently when Phil was putting the bed in, he noticed that it looked like it would fit, and boom, it did (perfectly, in fact). You still believe that they had it made with the measurements, if you're being honest. It just fits too well.

While Techno's still adjusting his hair (the man's a diva in disguise, you swear you've seen him walk - no, run - in heels before) you grab his notebook, scanning the page for any other notes you guys made in class. There's a little note in your handwriting next to the trojan horse. Allusions? it reads. Beneath that, Techno's written something about deeper layers.

"Techno," you say, drawing his attention to you, "Can you decipher what you wrote here?"

"Where?" He asks, leaning in towards you.

You point to the note.

He narrows his eyes and then says: "Yeah I was talking about how we could think about the message Homer himself meant to deliver with the Trojan Horse. Deeper levels beyond just disguise."

You nod, raising your pencil to your lips and chewing it. It's a habit you've developed when you're thinking. Some people stick their tongues out slightly, some have a weird expression on their face, and some, like you, chew sticks made of wood and graphite. "It's a good idea. And we could in theory combine it with the allusion one, considering they're similar enough topics."

"Mhm," Techno agrees.

"Yeah, let's do that," you say, and then you start working.

---

Hours later, you guys finally pull yourself out of the work flow. In the time, you've researched allusions and deeper meanings, and it looks like the project's coming along well. Your professor wants a visual and written explanation of the subject chosen however, which means you'll still have a heavy workload this weekend.

You grab your stuff and walk down the stairs, Techno following you. It's 3:40, which means you'll be late for training. Shit.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs is Tommy, with Wilbur standing behind him, smiling in a way that can only mean trouble. From behind you, Techno says: "Oh for fuck's sake."

You don't want to get sibling-bullied right now because you're already late as it is, and thus you just try to brush past them. However, at that moment, Tommy has the audacity to say: "What were you guys doing in there for so long?" And Wilbur the courage to add, "With the door closed too?"

You blink. Behind you, Techno's cheeks go pink.

"Studying," he says.

"Mhm, totally studying."

"Guys," you say slowly, raising an eyebrow.

Wilbur smiles innocently, "Yeah?"

Techno can probably tell that something needs to be done before you or he ends up getting violent, so he yells at the top of his lungs: "PHIL!" The father of the group comes walking in within seconds, a cup of coffee in his hands.

Tommy is quick to say he is innocent. Techno is quick to disagree. Either way, the debate does not last long. You're here, after all, and you could never lie.

So within minutes, you're out the door, saying bye, smiling, and already dreading hero practice for the next, you check your watch. Four hours until you have to be there.

---

"Dream, nobody gives a shit about the fact that you're in love with George. It's obvious," Sapnap says as he climbs over the bookshelf border you've set up in the shared space in an attempt to maintain order. It seems like it's purpose has been uh... denied. Now it's just clutter, you suppose.

Sitting on the floor, Dream glares at the formerly mentioned superhero, who snickers and then leans his hands on the back of your chair, peering over your shoulder.

"What you doing?" The singsong voice he uses irritates you beyond belief.

"Uh... sending an email to a news network that wants an interview with Dream... and telling them no?"

At this, Dream perks up and you roll your eyes. For fuck's sake.

"I never said-"

"The network's funded by Schlatt's party."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

None of you like Schlatt. He's self centered, egotistical, and he's only presented ideas that will restrict the Hero Council. What he does isn't ethical, yet somehow people support him.

Sapnap breathes out beside you, scrolling through your emails slowly. You bat his hand away, but not before he can tap on an email labelled confidential.

He skims through it quickly and then says: "OH!" In the loudest voice he can. Dream's ears seem to perk up.

But before he can pursue what he's seen, Mushroom Man himself walks in.

Wearing his ridiculous hat, of course.

Dream, in all his glory, is standing in front of the door when George, the only one of you whose face and identity are openly available to the public, enters the room, and of course the former has to crash into the door. Sapnap's cackle is so loud you'd wince if you weren't laughing your ass off too.

George frowns as he walks in, and says: "What is fucking happening here?"

Dream scowls at you two. "Nothing. I mean, we're working but like not anything important... uh... that makes it sound like we're not doing anything actually, so it is important, it's just not important for you to know."

"That's suspicious," George comments.

You'd swear Dream was blushing under the mask with the way he stutters over his next words (he probably is): "Uh... it's really not supposed to be."

There's a moment where Dream is tense and awaits the next words, but as soon as a smile spreads across George's face you can tell that the former relaxes. He smiles at you too, beaming, as soon as George looks away from him. It's adorable, really.

"So," George pauses, "What are we actually doing, considering Dream isn't telling me anything."

"Nothing really," you reply, adjusting your mask so that it sits better, "it's just a routine-"

The building shakes violently, and you leap to your feat.

"What was that?" George asks, his voice panicked, and Sapnap shakes his head, signaling he doesn't know.

"Y/N, stay here, cover our bases, okay?" Dream says. You nod. Odds are its an attack, but one at headquarters themselves? That's... brave, even for vigilantes.

As you tug on the headset another quake rumbles through the building, and you grimace at the things falling to the ground. With a click, the footage from Dream, Sapnap and George's cameras transfer to the big screen and the sound transfers to the speakers, and you have the freedom to sit on the ground and focus.

With a thought, swirling dark glimpses of your power flash in the edges of your vision.

"Dream?" You inquire.

"It looks like a vigilante attack," he supplies, "but it's bold and-"

He's cut off by someone crashing into George, too fast for you to see who. As he rushes forward, your eyes flash to Sapnap, who's fighting against another assailant. Eager to help, you let a glimpse of black flash into their vision, which causes them to look at you.

Long pink hair flows down the man's back, and his primary features are covered by a hog's mask. From there, he wears lose, somehow kingly clothes that allow him to move swiftly and fight beyond human capability.

The Blood God.

The fight continues on, and as it does you learn who your team is fighting against.

It looks like the entire Syndicate is attacking you. Philza's black sword flashes as he raises it against Dream's own weapons, Phantom phases in and out of existence each time one of George's attacks comes even remotely close to him, and Apollon watches from the side lines, healing every one of their wounds each time they gain one. It seems an impossible fight. But you've won against them before.

"Dream, do you need backup?" You speak into the microphone.

His voice is breathless when he replies with a short: "Yeah."

But when you call for support, the Hero Council doesn't reply.

And your screens cut out.

And suddenly, the sounds of fighting are so close you can hear them.

Your eyes widen as you're faced with the idea of the fight making it all the way here, and without a second thought you tie your mask up tighter and grab a weapon from the wall. It's a blade etched with silver markings, runes supposedly affecting its ability to fight - making it stronger. It seems to glisten in the light with the enchantments placed upon it.

The sword feels heavy in your hand but the adrenaline rushing through you lightens it.

But as you open the door into the hallway, everything goes quiet.

The clashing of weapons and the yelling stops. You frown.

Then the pain comes. It starts in your right arm, and you wince as it magnifies throughout your entire body. It's too late once you notice that it's Apollon standing in front of you, manipulating the way your body moves. But you have to do something.

So you lash out blindly, striking for something and hitting, in a wild stroke of luck, Apollon's leg with the hilt of you sword. It distracts him, and gives you time to burst up and disable him with a quick kick of your foot.

For your first time in a year, you're pretty good.

As you go up against your next opponent, Philza, you realize that you've blown something. Simply because he says: "Who are you?"

It is in that moment that your world comes - for fear of sounding dramatic - crashing down. It serves as a distraction for the so-called Crowfather, and he slams the hilt of his weapon into your stomach, throwing you backwards.

Scratch you being pretty good.

You suck.

But you need to keep going, right? So you get up and dive out of the way of Philza's next blast, scrambling towards coms. If you can just get there, to the the central processing unit (where any blockers they have on electricity won't work) you can contact the hero council, and you'll be saved.

Before you can press the button though, the sharp blade of a sword presses against your throat and you freeze.

"Stop," the Blood God says, his voice gravelly and low.

You do as he demands, your finger still reaching out for the button.

There's nothing you can do.

#technoblade x reader #dsmp x reader #sbi x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #dream smp x reader #dsmp imagine #technoblade imagine

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onewomancitadel · 2 years

Text

Okay so it's Cupid's job to make Psyche fall in love with someone hideous because Venus hates her guts for being so beautiful and venerated, and he totally messes it up and hits himself with the arrow instead.

About that JNPR anthology and Cinder's dream:

I am so fucking sick of this ship. It's driving me crazy.

A few notes:

Venus has some really interesting associations with her affair with war (Mars), and given the influence of Venus/Aphrodite from Ishtar/Inanna you get a lot of mixed characteristics of Venus (incl. just the idea bloodlust and lust are in some ways related). In this case, Venus is very fitting for Salem (... who is also Frigg to Ozpin's Odin - Frigg is the goddess of motherhood, Salem killed her daughters).

Cupid also wears a mask to hide his identity from Psyche, but when he sleeps he takes it off

and Psyche drips wax on him when he's asleep, seeing his face for the first time.

Also, just as a funny note, the fact that Cupid should make Psyche love someone else (Pyrrha) but ends up being the one she does instead (Cinder) is... really weird and describes that ironic relationship.

Perhaps a more relevant observation: this is all interesting because currently Jaune is in a Special Place/underworld analogue, and Psyche descends to the underworld as part of her tasks. I've seen some Eros and Psyche speculation about Ruby and Oscar, so maybe it's actually more pronounced with them than Jaune and Cinder - but I do want to note, that it's very meaningful that both of those pairs involve one who has descended and one who is above. I already think V9 is a really curious case because there's room for all sorts of mystical stuff (Joan of Arc's visions?), as well as the fact there are audience expectations of things like seeing Pyrrha (which you can subvert with... well).

I don't know how substantial any of this is. I can only speculate. But we should be looking out for katabasis-themed mythology with V9 approaching at any rate.

#knightfall #I'm going to gnaw my arm off this ship just does me in #it really does

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freedthedark · 10 months

Note

❝ it is okay. it is me. it is me. it is me. look. look…it is me. ❞

@meganeviolet

"What have I…" With how much stressed persistence he dug his feet into the ground to push himself back against the wall, it was a miracle that he hadn't shoved himself through said wall yet. There was no inch left between him and the cold material. However, anything else but the images that flashed before his own eyes went completely unnoticed. They bore no significance, none at all, not right now. Not the cold raindrops that pelted down and misted nature and his clothes (his characteristic garments long soaked) and not the fact that he was very much alone right now.

Or at least he had been, until Laki came along and took note of his current state. All relation to reality was gone in that very moment and for an outsider it would be all too easy to tell. To see the Raijinshuu's captain in such a condition, in such a posture, in such state of mind… It seemed all but natural. In fact, it would most likely serve for a shocking sight for most.

One hand was raised to cover his right eye, a job that was usually well done by green bangs. Wet strands of hair were all over his face and where he assumed he would be covering a purple-glowing eye, there was actually nothing but usual cerluean color. It was all not real.

"What have I done… What have I-" Freed painfully gritted his teeth, other hand coming up so both would get dragged along his face. Nails dug into his skin and as he stopped in the motion, partially wild and partially horrified eyes would stare through his crooked fingers. His deep voice was reduced to a mere whisper, breathy and shaking every time words would slip between his lips. The rain kept on pattering on ground, clothes and skin creating a fitting melody for what was going on before his eyes, in his head. It was all just in his head, wasn't it, all of it?!

"Where would I go, how could I-"

This, this is really the part where you cannot forgive yourself anymore.

You cannot be forgiven by anybody.

How could you?

You monster!

D - D E V I L!

We should never have trusted you.

They were right all along.

Kiss your current life goodbye, this was your last chance and it should never have been given to you.

"No, this isn't right, I-" With a haunted glance Freed looked from one side to the other and it was when Laki grabbed him by the shoulders with a firm grip that her voice filtered through to him. Despite his current state his first instinct was to reach for his rapier, though it wasn't in its usual place right now. Instead it had been dropped to the ground some time during his panic attack and lay further away, out of his reach. A flicker of ferocity flashed in his gaze alongside determination to face whoever was daring to touch him right now, movement dangerously accurate and fast despite his condition.

It was only when he made direct eye-contact with Laki that he f r o z e in his purpose. The sound of her voice and the reality of her touch seeped deeper into his mind and things began to adjust, slowly but steadily. The sight of his guild mate wasn't immediately enough to soothe his mind and crash the scenario that had built up before his inner eye, had his guild mates been involved in the horrific illusion after all, but it helped to have his common sense return so he'd be able to piece the details together. The illusion shattered, piece by piece.

Disheveled and soaked, Freed stared at Laki with wide eyes for a moment that felt like eternity. Hands were still slightly shaking as he tried to process and forget the previous images at the same time. It hadn't been real, it hadn't really happened. Laki had found him in his pathetic state; that in itself was p i t i f u l enough. But how could such deceptions still get to him like this? How could he allow them to be so successful, allow his own capable mind to create them in the first place?

Once more, he would have had to admit to himself that he wasn't as steady as he liked to present himself as. At times, it was too easy to fool even oneself.

"I-" Even the sound of his voice was pathetic still. Deep down Freed knew that Laki, or any of his other comrades, would never take advantage of his state or even make fun of it, but that didn't keep his irrational part from telling him lies.

Slowly averting his gaze and landing it on his sword, Freed uttered a deep breath. Despite the feeling of discomfort that someone saw him like this, he knew he could be thankful that Laki found him here. How long would it have continued for? What else could have happened? He absolutely mustn't lose control, in any shape or form.

"I apologize if I alarmed you, it's- I'm fine."

Fine. F i n e?

Only one wrong day, only one wrong night and there would be no turning back.

#meganeviolet #:')))))))))#thank you for sending this!!#and welcome back again aaaah <3

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 years

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Trans followers, if you’re up for it, I’d like your input (you can message me privately or even anonymously if you wish).

So obviously I’m very cool and sexy and big brained and that’s why I write werewolf erotica, anyway I realised this morning that I haven’t tried writing a trans werewolf character. Or, more accurately and importantly: each book contains one new romance (plus an ongoing established one in the background that began in the first book). The new one each time is designed to explore a different dynamic - sometimes to challenge the existing relationship standards in this fucking genre (because my god these people think really-quite-horrific abuse is sexy), but sometimes to explore just, you know, another type of love, like a poly or ace relationship or what have you. And I realised that I have not yet done this with a trans werewolf.

This opens up two very big questions though, which I have just spent a really fun half hour talking over with a trans friend of mine, but I don’t want her to have to speak for all trans people on the subject. So I’m asking for input here.

I recognise that some people of course won’t agree on these - what’s invalidating for one is validating for another, and all that. But I do want to make sure that, whichever way I end up going with this, it’s based on the input and opinions of trans folks who approved and not solely what my well-intentioned but naive cis ass thought sounded nice. So! Questions under the cut, because I value your dashboards.

Okay, so question one: The Mate Bond.

These are a soulmate trope, and part of that is that a werewolf’s mate is always the most attractive person they’ve ever seen, right. So, how does that work if you are meeting your mate pre-transition?

Now, my current plan, after discussion this morning, is to say the attraction is there both before and after the transition. BUT, before it, it’s like... “You’re super hot but it feels like something is slightly missing in some way.” And then after transition it’s “Holy shit yeah there you are.” Attractive both sides, but post-transition, they’re actually themselves, you know? It feels right, not just to the trans person but also their mate. (Plus they’re happier, which is usually very attractive in its own right.)

However, my friend is grey-romantic, so she said of this question in particular I should probably check with others.

Moving on to question two: The Transition.

Okay, right, so, this is very literally a transformative species. They can turn into bloody wolves and back.

That means reforming their entire bodies, growing and losing whole appendages (tails), rearranging organs, changing hormones. It means they physically lose and regrow their secondary sex characteristics all the time, since body hair is constantly in flux, fat deposits move, breasts are lost and regrown; it also means their entire genital structures are changed (as anyone who reads A/B/O can attest). Like, the basis for physical change is very much there.

On top of that, this is a species with a bit of a weak psychic field. They always look hot - I’ve already explained that as, given that they’re a supernatural race, they evolve over time to fit the beauty norms of the day to give them a predatory edge, that sort of thing. Plus... for example, if a woman with long hair shifts, she gets it back once she shifts human again, right? She doesn’t shift back to a pixie cut. Her morphic field knows, somehow, what she should look like in human shape, and I figure that’s based on her subconscious to a degree, at least. So physical adaptation to an ideal is also there, as a base.

And finally, werewolves are born as wolf pups, shift into human toddlers after a couple of days, and then stay human until “First Shift” at eighteen. When they get this shift, they get their wolf and can now transform at will; they also get their Gift (one (1) small superpower, as a treat); and they can now form a mate bond, and so will recognise their mate. Full fledging into adulthood, basically.

So, if we are literally only looking at the existing lore that I have already established... I can’t see any narrative reason why a trans werewolf, on reaching eighteen and gaining their wolf, wouldn’t naturally and automatically transition over the course of their first-however-many shifts. From a sci-fi/fantasy perspective, that fits perfectly into the world building that’s there.

However, werewolves do not actually exist and this world is fictional and will be whatever I tell it to be, whereas actual trans humans who might read this are real. So: does this sound okay?

My friend’s response to this one was “IDK that seems fine to me. Actually that sounds really nice.” But I’d like to run that by a few more people because I am cis and outside my wheelhouse.

(And if it sounds good, how many shifts should that take? Instant, just one and done, to reflect that this is who you were inside all along? Or gradual, over twenty or more, so they have an actual transition period that a reader gets to see? Or somewhere in between?)

Anyway thank you all! Feel no obligation to respond if you don’t want to. As I say, the likelihood is that I won’t get 100% agreement because YMMV (what I want out of a feminist novel is often different from what friends of mine want to see for example; it happens), but whichever path I end up going down is going to be feedback-based.

I should probably also mention that, so far, there has been zero homophobia in any of these. So, my very strong instinct is to not include any intentional transphobia. It would be a love story that features a character who happens to be trans, not a love story about being trans. Apologies if that’s not your jam, but I would certainly want to defer to those with first hand experience writing those stories. These are just very silly books about werewolves.

#blood and silver #writing #trans issues

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

Text

Kisses | Slasher x GenderNeutral!Reader | Headcanons | (Mild) N/SFW

After posting my Headcanons of the Sawyers kissing their S/O, I couldn’t stop thinking about doing this for some of the other Slashers I write for, so... there ya go! [I think you can tell who I’ve thought about kissing a lot.]

notes; Sloppy Make-Outs; Spit; Tongue Sucking; Lip Biting; (mild) Blood Kink; (mild) Sadism/Masochism; (mild) Body Worship; Bruising; Rough Handling; Disfigurement; Mask Kissing.

Characters: Asa Emory/The Collector; Billy Loomis; Stu Macher; The Sinclair Brothers; Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull.

Asa Emory/The Collector

He’s a biter – he likes nibbling at your bottom lip and occasionally biting into it hard, making it hurt for you – maybe making you bleed as well, which he then licks up – it excites him a lot

His hands are all over your face, neck and in your hair; often caressing you gently and like a priced possession (which you are, in a way); sometimes he’ll be a little rough with you, leaving red marks and even bruises on your skin from an intense make-out session

You like it when he wears his mask and kisses you, because the rough texture feels really good to you and fits when he handles you more roughly, too

Still, the privilege of seeing him without a mask and being able to kiss him never ceases to amaze you; especially when you’re allowed to run your hands through his hair, gently brushing it with your fingers, and twirling the short strands of it

While you two make out, you love wrapping your arms around his waist or gripping his strong arms and running your hands over the muscles, occasionally squeezing them – he rather focuses on your head and neck as aforementioned

Billy Loomis

He likes slow, but deep kisses, thoroughly exploring your mouth with his tongue and nibbling at your lips

Billy also loves to touch you wherever he can while you two make out, he buries his hands in your hair, squeezes your arms, thighs, butt, waist, anything he can reach

When he gets too excited, he starts to be more uncoordinated, which leads to the kiss becoming more messy, teeth clanking against each other, lips catching between them by accident, saliva smeared on both your chins and cheeks

Stu Macher

Lots of tongue, super messy and wet – this guy is excited to make out with you and he sticks his tongue down your throat the moment he’s allowed to

Less sweet and short kisses, but more gentle, messy and long ones

He latches onto you with his entire body, so beware of having your limbs tangled with his as he clings onto you, bodies flush against each other

Stu laughs and giggles into the kisses a lot, which also makes you chuckle and turns the make-out session into an even more uncoordinated mess than it already is, but it’s fine

He’s less of a biter, but he loves sucking at your tongue and bottom lip

Bo Sinclair

A biter all the way through, nibbles at your lips and bites into your bottom lip to make it bleed

Licks into your mouth whenever he gets the chance, he likes dominating you in every way possible

Grips the back of your head or neck whenever you two make out, but also has a good hold of your waist or ass

Short, gentle kisses are rare to be initiated by him, but when you do it, he’ll go along with it

Lester Sinclair

Sloppy and uncoordinated, but gentle, loving and passionate

He is a little nervous because he is not very experienced, but he gets the hang of it quickly

Lester shows you just how much he loves you with his kisses every single time – he won’t let any opportunity pass by just like that, even if it’s just a peck on the lips, he’ll put his all in it

He holds onto you in every which way he can, but only ones that you’re comfortable with, so he checks in with you every time

Since he doesn’t get social cues very well at all and wants to make sure he isn’t messing things up, he’ll often break the kiss to ask if it’s okay or if he should change something – it’s super endearing and makes you feel very appreciated and important (which you are)

When you want him to, he can be rough, but you have to explicitly ask for it (he once got rough with you unexpectedly and unprompted and he was so scared he’s hurt you – he doesn’t want to cause you any pain)

Vincent Sinclair

In the beginning, kissing is something he’ll only allow through the mask, so you basically just make out with a wax mask a lot, which you don’t mind a lot

But the more time passes and the more he trusts you, he’ll let loose and actually takes off the mask eventually

Then you’re the one who is careful – you don’t want to upset or hurt him, so you let him guide the more passionate kisses

Soft little kisses are something neither of you are ever really concerned about then, so you’ll often just sneak one whenever – be that on his mask or under it, doesn’t matter

He doesn’t really use his tongue, nor does he bite you or anything else – if your kissing becomes more heated then it’s usually just a mess of spit-slick lips meeting each other

He likes it when you brush your fingers through his long hair and pull on it, it makes him feel good, because you’d never hurt him and he knows that

At the same time, he loves roaming his hands over your body and mapping out the expanses of it, memorising every detail – you’re a work of art and he wants to make sure he knows every individual characteristic about you that he can

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

Kisses and cuddles go hand in hand with him – any chance he gets, his arms are around you and his lips on yours

He loves showering you in sweet little kisses, soft and gentle, but conveying great passion and love

Jesse will touch any part of you that he can, his fingers stroke softly over your skin, your cheeks, forehead, neck, through your hair – you name it

He squeezes whatever he can, holds onto you and makes sure you feel just how much he loves and worships you

He’s more than happy whenever you initiate kisses and when you want it to get more heated, he never forces himself on you and lets you take the lead in such situations, since he wants it to be really good (perfect) for you

A weakness for him is whenever you kiss him when he’s wearing the mask – it makes him feel dizzy and weak in the knees

After his face was disfigured, he doesn’t let you see it without a mask for a while and so you’ve gotten used to kissing just that and his head whenever he let you near him at all – he was just too ashamed

Eventually you’re able to wear him down and he takes the mask off, letting you take a look without hiding in the crook of his elbow or behind his hands – that’s when you shower him in kisses

You’re careful not to hurt him, some of his skin stayed raw and painful after all and you didn’t want to make it worse, so you press gentle kisses all over his face and whisper to him just how much you love him and how beautiful he is

Since he doesn’t really have lips anymore, you are kissing more of his skin above and his teeth, but you don’t mind it at all, as long as it is him nothing could scare you off

He can still use his tongue well enough after all, so instead you just latch onto his tongue when he lets you, which makes it a lot sloppier than it used to be, but it’s more than fine with you

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lorei-writes · 3 years

Text

Basic Guide on How Not To: Slavic Characters

Well, as most of you have probably realised by now, I’m Polish. Truthfully, I am quite upset now. I generally tend to avoid most content involving Slavic people, because well, stereotypes are plentiful and I have only one stomach - there is only so much anger I can fit inside of it. However, this time I was merrily watching an episode of a series, for goodnight sleep, and got smacked in the face with just that... So, I suppose, let’s use my anger towards something - hopefully - productive. This is a very hard post for me to write. It may be closer to my personal experience, although I did try to be more general.

Contents:

Where Do I Even Begin or Sad Slav Filter

Common Stereotypes - Professions & Jobs

Common Stereotypes - Characteristics

Few basic issues with languages & names

Where Do I Even Begin or Sad Slav Filter

Grey buildings, empty plazas, ominous blocks of flats with walls up to the very sky. Snow. Gloom faces. Dark nights. Red. Gold.

To start with, be aware that this sort of image is oftentimes not only written into stories or presented in picture-based media, but that I had the displeasure of seeing it being used for cover art for several books.

What I jokingly call sad Slav filter is presenting the reality of Eastern Europe* through, well, pessimistic glasses. The architecture speaks of terror, of being post-communist state, of never having recovered. The streets portrayed in such fashion are gloom, unwelcoming, threatening in a way. Winter is oftentimes the season of choice, to add an extra layer of depressive atmosphere and cold. Nobody smiles. One may say that usage of gold and red brightens the image - however, those connect directly to the communist flag, thus locking the entire space in a rather obvious context.

The reality?

Yes, old blocks of flats built in 60s or so still exist. Some are even grey and in dire need of being re-painted! However... Many are not in such a state. In Poland, the common colours for elevation of such buildings are white, pastel orange, pastel yellow and pastel green, oftentimes put together in combination of stripes or other geometric shapes. What also should be noted is that such estates were designed with plenty trees and other plants around them in mind, as to accommodate for a development of a community - especially for older blocks of flats, those are most likely situated nearby a primary school and a kindergarten, not to mention stores and other services. It is not uncommon for playgrounds to be present as well. You could also expect small flower gardens.

Parks exist here. Architecture does not begin and end at the blocks of flats, especially not in the major cities - most, if not all, have old towns or historical representative streets. Buildings dating back to medieval still do exist in plenty of places. Churches & Tserkovs - those are oftentimes tourists sites for a reason!

It may happen that the side of a building will be decorated with a mural. It is not very common, but does happen. Here are some examples (from Poland). The designs sometimes relate to other works of art, or to some forms of traditional art.

mural by NeSpoon, a street artist who incorporates motives of koronka ludowa [a type of lace] into her artwork

Overall, I come from a poorer region of Poland, from a small town to add to that. The one thing I would list about it? Flower gardens. All of my neighbours had flower gardens in front of their houses. In the recent years, I’ve seen plenty of new houses being built, plenty of renovations being made. Especially in spring and summer, it is all far from grey. Some major cities started investing in fields of wild flowers, as to aid pollinators. And winters? Well, the way it should be (as climate change shows and I have not seen a proper winter in a while), they should be snowy. Yes, it may involve a rather depressing image, at least in places where snow cannot just rest over the ground and glitter... But I do think it may be the case in plenty parts of Europe, as winter days are overall shorter as well, which hardly helps :”) Eastern Europe as a region is not locked in an eternal winter.

People may not be smiling, but they are not frowning either - it is the... Neutral resting face.

*- that being said, Eastern Europe is not inhabited only by Slavic people, even if it is often presented like so

Common Stereotypes - Professions & Jobs

List of common stereotypical jobs/professions usually performed by characters of Slavic descent:

a member of a mafia (Russian mafia)

a drug dealer

a spy

a prostitute

a maid / a cleaner

As you can see, nearly all of those involve crime, the only exception being a maid / a cleaner (which, I’d argue, speaks of a lower socio-economic status). If you do not plan to have more than one Slavic character in your work, I advise you to avoid those - especially if you wanted to make your character Russian. I do not think I have to explain why representing a group of people nearly exclusively as criminals is hurtful.

Certain stereotypes exist in media. They do influence the reality. I have seen covers of books about spy programs (non-fiction, referencing an issue from 2000s) which involved clear references to communism (+ used the most hideous Sad Slav Filter I have ever seen). The title suggested all Russians are spies. This is not okay.

If you want to have a character who is performing any of the above, and want to make them Slavic, but then never have their heritage influence anything about them - ask yourself why.

EDIT: Do allow me to also add that being a sex-worker may not be a choice for all Slavic women. Sex-trafficking of Eastern Europeans is a real issue. You should be mindful of that when writing a story - even more so as it affects some countries more than others. Research is due.

Common Stereotypes - Characteristics

Common hurtful characteristics in depicting slavic characters:

uneducated or otherwise stupid

rude, loud, uncultured, violent

an alcoholic / addicted to drugs

extremely conservative / religious

Do I have to explain it? Yes, alcoholism is a social issue, same as addiction to drugs. Yes, some people are conservative and / or religious. However! We are not a monolith! Social issues are not the general rule!

Scale of conservativeness and religiousness also differs greatly by age group and region. In Poland we have an entire category of practising atheists - non-believers, usually from smaller communities, who appear in church once or twice a year, despite not believing. Due to social pressure. What religion? This differs greatly too! Roman catholic, Greek orthodox, Muslim? Slavic people are not a monolith.

(about women specifically):

beautiful (must put plenty effort in her physical appearance)

looks for a rich (western) husband

submissive

obedient

Well. This ties into the greater issue of objectification and sexualisation of Slavic and Eastern European women. Admittedly, such portrayal [including all of those] is more so present in online spaces, if you turn a few wrong corners down the roads of the internet :) It is dehumanising.

If your Slavic character happens to be a woman and must be extremely sexy femme fatal spy - this reeks of stereotypes.

Few basic issues with languages & names

As I’ve hinted already, it appears that oftentimes Slavic = Russian. This, however, is not true, both language-wise and culture-wise. Despite sharing some common elements, Slavic cultures do differ. Polish characters, unless they are 50+ years old, won’t generally speak Russian. Czech and Ukrainian are different. Ukrainian is not just another version of Russian.

I decided to single out this paragraph for one reason: authors oftentimes do not bother to check for appropriate names and just use whatever seems right. If you want to write a Slavic character, do make some research.

The common mess-ups I’ve seen:

inappropriate form of the surname (about Russian surnames in particular; giving a woman a male version of the surname, giving a man the female version of the surname - Slavic languages are heavily gendered!)

claiming a character is of nationality B, while giving them a surname which is most definitely speaking of nationality A (e.g: Polish character with a clearly Hungarian name & surname)

wrong spelling

using very rare forms of names for all the characters written into the story (it sounds very unnatural - in one particular case it seemed to have been done on purpose, as I’ve had to google whether some names were even names. They were used as code names for few organisations during WWII. That sort of uncommon).

nicknames derived from the actual names that would not work at all (Żegota -> Zeg; It just would not work like this. It would be literally more likely for a character named Żegota to be nicknamed/renamed Staszek than for somebody to call him Zeg. It does not only not include the ż sound, but it also ends with g - which a Polish person would simplify to k when speaking. In other words Zeg -> zek. This, meanwhile, is not only not exactly pleasant to say, but it also sounds like a grammatical form of another word, albeit pronounced with a heavy lisp - “river”; It is possible to find appropriate nicknames online).

Also, unless you want for some character to be a dick, do not make them purposefully mispronounce the name of a Slavic character or have them name them after an object/thing. (Calling “Maciej” by “Magic” because they can’t be bothered to learn to pronounce the name or at least try to get it close is not nice).

#lorei spoke #honestly i had to take a couple breaks while writing this #because some of those affected my family living abroad directly and </3 #i was completely not in a mood for any stereotypes today </3

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theringers · 3 years

Text

watch me burn - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part seven

summary: “oh baby, I've been thinking about it, you know that I've been dreaming about it” watch me burn / michele morrone

a/n: hi:) still a few more parts to go but i went a few chapters without smut and this was needed so enjoy:) also if u listen to the title song while u read its a whole new experience lmfao

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, semi public sex

2 months ago, to the day

Your eyes met his piercing blue eyes in the garage once again. It had been a month since you slept with Pierre and you haven’t stopped thinking about it. The way he stared at you as he fucked you was the exact same way he was glaring at you across the paddock. Needy and desperate.

You shook yourself back into focus and listened as Max’s strategist reiterated today’s race strategy but you couldn’t help daydreaming about what that man could do in bed.

You drowned out the conversation about tyres and looked over to Alpha Tauri at the perfect time. Pierre had his bottom lip between his teeth while he examined his car. He ran his hand slowly over the chassis seductively like he knew you were watching. His fingers grazed the metal in painstakingly slow circles. After he removed his hand from the car was when he caught your eyes. He gave you a smirk, not even a smile, and turned away. It was good to know that you weren’t the only one thinking about what happened.

The race started and you were in the garage, cheering on Max. He had started second on the grid but due to a first lap incident, he was fifth. He was not going to be happy after the race. He can tolerate if he fucks up but having other people interfere with his race is something he takes particularly hard.

Pierre’s car came up behind Max’s around a corner and got too close for comfort. Max jerked his steering wheel too much as he tried to turn, sending Pierre’s car straight into the barriers.

You stood up out of your seat and gasped. Everyone in the garage was relieved to see Max still racing and no one seemed to be concerned about Pierre. You took off your Red Bull Racing branded headphones and slammed them on the table before rushing over to the Alpha Tauri garage.

Anna was seated in her chair, looking worried, but not enough for you. She should be close to tears like you were.

“Have you heard anything from him?” You asked and Anna looked up, almost annoyed.

“He’s conscious,” his race engineer said, “but hurting.” You heard the groan come through followed by a bunch of curse words. He apologized profusely for his move but it was all Max’s fault.

You watched on Alpha Tauri’s monitors as the race was red flagged and decided to head back to Red Bull’s garage. “Let me know when you hear something,” you said to Anna. She nodded and looked back down to her phone. Fucking bitch. Her attitude made you not even feel bad about sleeping with her husband. She didn’t deserve him.

Max walked back to the garage looking like a life size bobble head with his heavy helmet swinging around. “Is Pierre okay?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“He’s conscious. He took a nasty hit.”

“I know, I feel bad. I didn’t mean to, the steering wheel just got away from me. I saw him crash in my rear view mirror.”

You were visibly shaken and Max always knew the right things to say when you weren’t feeling okay.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Max said, rubbing your back.

You nodded in agreement. “I know he will. I’m going to check on him at the medical center once the race starts again.”

Max smiled at you. “That would be good. Make sure you tell him I’m sorry.”

An engineer put his hand on Max’s shoulder and shoved a spreadsheet full of data in his face. He shrugged his shoulders and walked with the engineer to the monitors.

It wasn’t long before the race got underway again. Max made it up to third, podium position, but there were still at least 30 laps left. You started the trek through the paddock and over to the medical center. You were just a bit too late as you saw Pierre walking out down the ramp. He smiled when he saw you approach him.

“How ya feeling champ?” You asked him.

“I’m a bit sore thanks to your husband.”

Your face fell. “He sends his apologies. I promise he was actually remorseful.”

“Max? Remorseful? What did you do to him?”

You laughed. Max did have a temper and tended to be extra competitive but he had formed a special bond with Pierre these last few years. They weren’t friends by any means but they helped each other out whenever possible. This was one of the times that it wasn’t possible.

“He does genuinely feel bad, Pierre.”

“I know he does, it was a racing incident. I saw the footage.” He limped slightly through the paddock and winced when he put pressure on his left leg. “I think I should go lay down for a bit.” He took another step and lost his balance. You grabbed his arm and held him, making sure he stayed steady.

“This is it right here,” he pointed to his motor home.

“Do you want me to help you up there? I don’t want you to fall.” You said with a soft smile on your face. How could he resist your offer of help?

“Sure,” he limped over to the door and you aided him up a few stairs. “Shouldn’t you be watching the rest of the race? Last I checked, Max was doing really well.”

He sat down on the luxe white leather couch in exhaustion and you sat at the table across from him. “He wanted to make sure you’re okay. He’ll be fine.” You looked around the motorhome, observing your surroundings to seem busy. “So Anna’s nice…” you said, followed by a laugh. You had known Anna for a few months now. Their wedding was right before the season started and you really hadn’t known her much before then either. She tended to keep to herself and you wanted to respect that.

“She can be a bit…”

“Yeah, I know. I went to check on you after the crash and she looked like she wanted me dead.”

“In her defense, she caught me checking out your ass this morning. She was not very happy with me after that.”

You leaned forward to give him a light smack. “Pierre!” You shook your head in disappointment. “What did she think of the way you were practically fingering your car this morning?”

He played fake shy. “Oh, you saw that?”

“You make my heart beat crazy fast.” You admitted, putting your hand to your chest. “That didn’t help.”

“Well, as long as you enjoyed yourself.”

Enjoy yourself you did. He was in his same fireproofs from earlier and you were sure he didn’t know how turned on they made you. They were pulled down to his waist, the sleeves hanging low off his hips. His white undershirt was tight to his body, putting his abs on full display. His legs were spread wide, inviting you in. Was it hot in there? Was the air conditioning on?

He ran his hands over his abdomen and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. He groaned, sounding like he was in pain, frustrated, and horny at the same time.

Why did he have to be so unbelievably irresistible to you? When you were around him it was almost impossible to contain yourself. There was a magnetic force dragging you to him constantly. You moved yourself to sit next to him, earning his attention and popping his head up.

“You look really hot right now,” you giggled to yourself. He made you feel like a teenager experiencing her first love. The nerves were through the roof.

“Well, I feel hot.” He looked around the walls of the motorhome. “Where the hell is the air conditioning and who turned it off?”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god it’s not just me.” He looked over at you examined your face. He placed his hand on your red cheeks. “You’re flushed.”

When he touched you, a chill ran through your body. Your body felt on fire and he had the power to send a freezing cold chill through it all.

“My cheeks get really red when I get nervous.” You blushed even more having to admit that. It was your least favorite characteristic of yourself. Everyone always knew flat out when you were nervous.

“I can’t tell if it makes you look cute, like I want to hug you, or if I want to fuck you.” His hand still rested on your cheek as he looked back and forth between your eyes and lips. “You look so god damn innocent. Like I could totally ruin you with just a few minutes alone.” His thumb ran over your lower lip and you instinctively stuck your tongue out to meet his thumb. He took the opportunity to put his thumb in your mouth and you suctioned around it, keeping eye contact with him. “Y/n,” he breathlessly begged, “please.”

His lips crashed to yours, feeling warm and secure the moment they touched. His hands held your neck and you moaned into his mouth, forgetting what it felt like to be touched by him.

He hoisted you onto his lap, wincing a bit when you grazed his knee. His hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist as he pulled you closer to him, grinding your hips. “Don’t do this to me,” he said into your neck.

“Why not?” You said cheekily.

“We don’t have much time.” You almost forgot that there was a race going on right now.

“I can be quick.” You hopped off of him and locked the motorhome door as he undressed out of his fireproofs. He looked so good in his white suit but he looked even better naked. You slipped off your underwear and hoisted your sundress up to your waist before going back to his lap.

He guided your body on top of his, settling you down as you took all of him in, deep. “Shit. A condom.” You said, after the bare feeling of him inside of you set in. God did it feel good but it wasn’t right.

“I don’t think I have any in here.” He said. “I promise I’ll pull out. I need you so bad.” He lightly bit your nipple through your sundress.

“I will kill you if you’re lying to me.” You started to move your hips and moaned at the sensation. He felt so good filling you up all the way.

He took your ass in his hands and started to bounce you up and down on his cock. “That’s it baby, just like that.” He said, admiring your movements. “Fuck me like a good girl.”

Your head fell forward, the feeling running through your body getting almost unbearable to handle.

“Jesus, Pierre, you feel so good.” You pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and arched your back, feeling like all eyes were on you in the best way possible.

He watched you in awe as you rode his cock without a care in the world. “Your pussy is so tight baby. So tight for me.” A breathy moan escaped his lips and his face looked like he was in pure bliss. There’s nowhere else he would rather be.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna come.” He said, panicking. You rushed to get off of him as you saw the liquid pool on his abs.

“Did you…?”

“I don’t think I got any inside of you.”

You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. God, you hoped not.

next part

#f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #pierre gasly smut #max verstappen smut #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fanficfion #max verstappen fanfiction #pg #mv

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virghogh · 3 years

Text

Guessing NCT's rising signs: Huang Renjun as a Cancer rising

Welcome to my first post where I write all about why I think this idol is X rising sign! I don't know how many of these I'll do because it heavily depends on how confident I feel in my guess of their rising lol for Renjun's rising sign, it's something I've been sitting on for a loooong time just to see if anything else comes into my head. At the end of the day we really have no way to know for sure, even if the idols gives us their birth time it still has to be taken with a grain of salt! But it’s still fun theorize and to test your skills while learning at the same time. So for now I feel pretty confident sharing my thoughts on Renjun as a cancer rising.

Let’s ✨explore✨ why:

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧long post! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✦ Before I even decided to look up his chart layout, there were 2 characteristics of Renjun that initially led me to think he’s a Cancer rising. His eyes and his physique. His eyes aren’t necessarily as big as idols we’ve seen with moon in 1st, but they’re still very notable features of his physical appearance that he’s very well known for. They’re bigger, soft and dreamy, and sometimes look like he quite literally holds stars in his eyes. The biggest physical feature though is his, well, petite frame. Next to his eyes, renjun is also really well know for his smaller build. It’s even a well known inside joke amongst NCT, they all him “big shoulders renjun” (lol) because “for a guy” his shoulders a on the smaller side. Both of these physical attributes can also be identifying characteristics of cancer risings.

✦ So, in general I think he is a Cancer rising. But if we want to be more specific; I do think he is a 3rd decan Cancer rising which is the Pisces/Neptune ruled decan. I initially chose this because his house and planet placements just make so much more sense to me when the rising is in the 3rd decan (I'll get into that below), but after reading about the 3rd decan I also think it fits his personality really well! With the Neptune and Pisces influence, he's more on the open side of Cancer rising but more notably, 3rd decans are a lot more inclined to art/creativity and sometimes, music specifically. These people also have a very dreamy attraction about them. He also has his Venus trine ASC which can further add to this kind of creative vibe he gives off, but is also drawn to! It emphasizes the importance of aesthetics, art and creativity in his life. If you've never been on Renjun stan twt then you might not know that a lot of his fans see him as this incredibly dreamy and ethereal boy (as they should) and I can see why!

*:･ﾟ✧house and planet placements *:･ﾟ✧

Scorpio moon, Sagittarius Pluto in 5th:

✦ yea... just yes. Okay but actually, if you read my NCT Dream Hexaco x Birth Chart analyses, I talked a lot about his chart already because I really like it. As someone with a Scorpio moon, I can't help but be really interested in how his plays out. And I have to say, I am quite attached to this theory because I think his scorpio moon in 5th just. makes. sense. I'm not going to go much into the descriptions of the placements, I'm mostly going to stick to the house influence. We know that Scorpio moons have really intense emotions, they internalize everything and are just highly sensitive people to their environments. Renjun has been incredibly open about his mental and emotional struggles ever since being a kid. I've honestly never heard an idol talk about their struggle like he has. He even opened up recently about how a few years ago he had an art therapist that really helped him and lowkey changed his life. I feel like a lot of this can be reflected in his 5th house. The house of creativity, expression, creation. His 5th cusp is also in Scorpio. 5th house in water tend to be really drawn to arts and music. Having a Scorpio moon, a moon sign that can be quite guarded, in a fire house can also explain his readiness/openness to share his emotions and art. Also let's not forget his chart ruler is his Scorpio moon in 5th! What I've wrote above are big themes in his life, which we've seen.

✦ As for the Pluto in 5th. Because his 5th house is in Scorpio this would mean the 5th ruler is in 5th. I know it might not make sense at first because it's pluto and pluto is misunderstood. But it makes perfect sense to me. Pluto in 5th is a deeply passionate and creative placement. It bring so much energy to this house, and can even create a borderline obsession with themes of this house. With creating and expressing. But I could also see having this and his scorpio moon in this house bringing so much energy, it just kind of adds to the confusion and intensity of a scorpio moons emotions and processing abilities, like, emotionally overwhelming. Scorpio moons always need an outlet and they usually figure that out the hard way at some point in life. The outlet can vary based off the chart, his is without a doubt connected to his art; whatever that may be to him.

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Aquarius Uranus in 8th:

✦ This part is brief because it's more of like, additional details to what's already in his chart. Something that is really well known about Renjun too is how much he is into space and aliens and stuff like that. He, once again, has been very open about it lol on variety shows I've seen him light up every time its briefly mentioned and he'll comment on how much he finds that stuff interesting. The 8th house is weird, it can manifest in a lot of different ways. The biggest point here for me is that the house is in Aquarius with Uranus here. I know someone with this placement too and, while they're open minded to astrology and tarot etc. it's a bit more focused on logic. I can't say for sure because I don't know him, but he kind of strikes me as the kind of person that would fight to death over aliens existing, but draws the line at astrology lol. I actually do think he would be open to astrology and tarot, but he'd need the right introduction to it. Anyways, yea this placement to me explains a lot of his interest in space and things we don't understand. He's expressed his curiosity in it. I think a lot of this is coming from his Scorpio moon and Pisces mercury/venus which is why I think it's just additional support.

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Pisces Mercury/Venus in 9th:

✦ THIS HOUSE right here... so much to say. Firstly, Pisces in 9th is probably one of the main culprits for his creativity, deep thinking and curiosity in the world. And more importantly: his imagination. I've mentioned this a lot when I talk about renjun but, he's very well known for his creativity, but I want to make it clear that there is a distinction between creation and imagination. His imagination is truly... on another level. Well, planet actually since it's pisces! Again, amongst fans it's really well known his imagination is just so unqiue. This is less about the 9th house and more about the fact that he has 2 pisces placements but it still affects it lol. He's very open about his imagination and speaks about it so naturally. He shared his drawing of a bird, hybrid, thing? and how it's an animal that steals your dreams in your sleep. Anyways, Pisces in 9th aren't necessarily the travelers we'd see with an air or fire sign here, but they like to travel mentally. He's also talked about how he's just in general a very curious person and you can tell his thoughts probably travel far and wide in his down time.

✦ What's really interesting to me about this house is his mercury is here and Mercury in 9th is a very specific kind of placement. It almost always guarantees an interest and talent in learning languages. I don't know if languages are necessarily a passion for him but he definitely is interested and cares about learning language and other cultures. He also did pick up on Korean and English with ease. Which also reminds me that, he actually was exposed to Korean at a young age because I'm pretty sure he went to a bilingual school (chinese and korean). This is also a big deal to me because planets in 9th, especially sun/mercury often indicate very early exposure to languages or other cultures... so yea that checks out. This can also be proved by looking at his IC in Virgo, which puts the ruler in 9th. His mercury is also sextile Jupiter. I also wanna comment that he has his Mercury in the 5th degree, I'm not great at degree theory yet but that feels significant to me. Of course we cannot forget his absolutely angelic voice. Renjun is also very well known for his stunning vocals. Not only are Pisces placements musically inclined but Pisces mercury are known for their sweet voices.

✦ As for the venus is 9th, I feel like I have more to say on his venus being in Pisces because that's where so much of his artistic creativity and imagination come from. But venus here adds to a lot of what I've written above, adding to his curiosity of the world. What I find most interesting about venus in 9th though, is it brings another inclination to art! He might really like art from different places in the world, or just exploring all types of art being very open minded to its different forms etc. Venus here also brings ease to language learning, and these people will naturally have other cultures and people from them as a big part of their life. I feel like, in general it's not surprising at all to me that as a foreign member (being from China), that he would have 9th house influence! It can often manifest as like.., travel, other languages, cultures and parts of the world etc. are just very naturally a part of their life. Some people never really contemplate life overseas or in another country. But for 9th housers, it's never not been an option. His 9th house influence can also make him a great teacher, mentor and just overall supportive person. We've seen some of this in the content he's made with NCT. Like trying to teach his members chinese with Chenle, except he was taking it way more seriously lol but was so supportive. He's also tried to get Jeno and Jisung involved in his art making, but keeping the process very open and fun.

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Aries sun, Taurus mars in 10th:

✦ This is the last part I'm going to cover because it is really just the icing on the cake to finish this up. The 10th house is considered pretty important when looking at celebrities/idols because it's very likely a lot of what we see from them is their 10th house influence. In the chart model I'm using for Renjun, it puts his MC in the very last degrees of Pisces, so there's a chance it's in Aries but either way with his sun and mars here they are still playing a big role. So for that reason, I'm opting for Pisces MC. I also think Pisces MC fits though because first it puts the ruler in his 7th house. Meaning he could really benefit and work well in something that involves a group! Because it's Pisces in Neptune, it also adds to his very ethereal vibe and how people just seem to love him wherever he goes. He's very magnetic and can come off as artistic and sensitive. He's known for being dreamy, unreal, artistic, sensitive.

✦ Again, we know he has an aries sun and taurus mars so I'm not going to explain them here, just how they affect the house, but having his these here makes so much sense to me too. Having planets in 10th also influences what kind of "vibe" people get from you, and what you're "known" for. Mars and Sun bring similar energy of being well known for for energy, drive, and even stage presence. Not being afraid to be on stage, being good with attention and spotlight. He's known for his kind of playful and childish behavior at times. He is charismatic, bold, brave, happy and upbeat. With the sun, he is again known for his creativity and creations and also self-expression.

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Thank you to anyone who read all this. I don't really expect many people to because I'm mostly writing this for my own curiosity and to finally just put this theory out there! Anyways, stan Renjun best boy <33

Thoughts and feedback are always welcome <3

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#tldr I love renjun #the way this is a whole essay and took hours to write #but there’s literally nothing else I’d rather spend my time doing #it’s my time I decide how to waste it lmao #NCT #kpop astrology #NCT astrology #NCT rising #astrology #zodiac signs #kpop #NCT dream #huang renjun #renjun #NCT 127

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st-just · 3 years

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Hey, Cuba-anon again with a slightly different question. Less about Cuba, more about foreign policy and ethics in general. I am interested to know what you think about Nationalism and it’s place in the modern world. How should one view their relationship to their country versus their relationship to the global community?

To give my point of view, I think I am a pragmatic nationalist? I am not gung-ho about America because “it is the best nation ever and the president is never wrong, uwu”, but rather because I live here, my parents and grandparents live here, and if something in the world negatively impacts America it will by extension negatively impact me. I don’t think other countries are beneath me or anything, but I also know that the feeling is not always reciprocal. So, to me, putting the well being of Americans first and everything else second is similar to putting on your air mask first before helping others in the event of a plane crash.

Either way, would love to hear your point of view and see how others tackle the question.

(sorry for the delay in response, got halfway through writing this then saved it to drafts and completely blanked on it)

But okay, interesting question, and worth breaking down.

So, you know how through the '90s and early 2000's there was this just utterly overpowering narrative where the last chapter of every history textbook ended with a chapter about how national borders were less and less important and how through the magic of The Internet young people were more connected and cosmopolitan than ever, with the strong implication that the weight of history was pulling us inevitably towards a post-national utopia of frictionless exchange and understanding. Call it the Star Trek ideal.

Hasn't exactly worked out, of course. And to a large degree was bullshit even at the time (or the optimism of academics expecting all of humanity to think like they do, being charitable). But in my heart of hearts, that's still how I think things should work.

But okay, to get a bit less abstract, a bunch of barely connected thoughts-

- Nation-states (and states generally) are, at best, convenient administrative divisions of humanity. They have no value outside the services they provide to their residents, and certainly no rights or moral worth outside that. America doesn't deserve your loyalty or life anymore than the state of Ohio or city of Baltimore do (replace with wherever you live.)

-If you accept the basic idea of humans having equal moral worth (or anywhere close to it), then the entire idea that someone's entire life should be defined by what side of an imaginary line on a map they were born on seems obviously absurd as soon as you start thinking about it?

-Nations - in terms of borders, whose included, what characteristics are 'national', etc - are also both contingent and a great extent artificial, defined by state and cultural elites via a standardized language, a mythologized national history, patriotic holidays, nationalizing and creating traditions and rituals, national education and entertainment, etc, etc. There's nothing primordial or inherent there.

-Unfortunately, people really, really like having teams to identify with, and like excluding people from those teams and/or treating them like shit for not belonging to them even more. (People talk a lot about x or y horrible thing being fundamental to human nature, but I really think this is one of the places where human nature really lets us down.)

-Nationalism is an extremely easy and powerful way of dividing the world between us and them, and across the world there has been massive success using it as a locus for identity formation and to organize populations around basically every sort of project imaginable, from funding public education and welfare to genocide.

-Nationalism is, as mentioned, inherently exclusive - and no matter what it's proponents say, in practice there's always someone within the borders of the nation who doesn't quite fit (in the European context, Romani and Jewish people are the most obvious examples). Cases where the nationalist imagination doesn't perfectly overlap with state borders, or with the identity of some subset of the 'national' population also tends to go, uh, badly.

-However, within the national population, appeals to national solidarity or theoretically shared ideals can often be (to a limited degree) useful in transcending or working to ameliorate regional, ethnic, class, etc divides.

-While it's true that large chunks of the American (Canadian, British, French, Japanese, etc) populace benefit quite a bit from their position in the current international system, it's almost universally the case that what foreign policy elites consider 'the national interest' extends far, far, far beyond anything that provides concrete benefits to the average citizen - I'll just gesture vaguely towards Afghanistan, here. Or World War 1 - and quite a lot of death and misery is inflicted for the sake of a narrow slice of the elite's material interests and entirely meaningless concerns around national glory and prestige.

-To be frank, in specifically America's case, putting the interests of co-nationals first and everyone else second is less putting your own air mask on first and more launching a life boat at half capacity to make sure you have leg room.

-But, again, the fruits of pursuing the national interest really, really aren't evenly spread. Does the US government's tireless and vicious championing of stringent IP laws, regardless of how many needless deaths result from the constraints on the drug supply they create, really do much for the average American?

-Which, to go back to the air mask analogy, brings up the awkward point that very often it's not so much putting your own mask on first as tearing the masks off people around you so you have extras, just in case. How much less is the life of someone on the wrong side of the border worth? Half as much? A tenth? A thousandth? The pursuit of America's national security and national interests has a death toll well into the millions.

-Honestly, even if you don't care at all about foreigners, in terms of domestic policy it's just a useful heuristic to instinctively distrust anyone who relies too much on nationalist rhetoric to justify themselves. I mean, the music's almost always bad and anyone who actually gets invested in the symbolism of their flag is reliably a complete killjoy, but even beyond that - they're just very reliably the worst people. This is admittedly unkind and not always true. But, well, see that quote about patriotism being the last refuge of the scoundrel, which applies wonderfully to both people and organizations. If someone's trying to sell something by wrapping it in the flag, that usually means they don't want you looking too closely.

-Viewing the world through a nationalist framework and caring about zero-sum issues of national prestige also make it incredibly hard to coordinate around issues that don't care about national borders, or are going to disproportionately hurt people without rich and powerful nation-states defending their interests. Like, I don't know, global pandemics. Or climate change.

-Anyway, in conclusion, borders bad, nationalism bad, and also any officially codified 'Patriotic' culture is instantly cringe. Hopefully some of this makes sense.

#reply #anon #in this essay i will #this is theoretically a writing blog #nationalism #political theory

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Faded

Averykedavra prompt: okay, first of all, can I be added to your taglist? I love your fics! secondly, if you're open to prompts (apologies if you're not) could you write some logan-centric hurt/comfort? with roman and maybe Virgil comforting him? no pressure, but thanks!! and again your fics are absolutely incredible

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re an icon ^_^

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Logan’s not feeling so great, so self-doubt, self-esteem issues, all that jazz

Pairings: depending on how you want to read it, logince, analogical, possible prinxiety, analogince, or just hella platonic. My aro ass doesn’t know anymore you choose

Word Count: 4237

When a Side's role is disregarded, their door fades from the hallway.

Logan...do the others really need Logan?

Or just Logic?

“Neato! So you're making your little factoids optional this time around.”

Thank Archimedes the little pixelated boxes didn’t allow for much dynamic character interaction.

Logan swallows and tries to keep going, growing more concerned that the lump in his throat would make it impossible to speak. But he can do this. For Thomas, he can do this. He has to.

“Oh, I’ve got this one, guys!”

‘IGNORANT’ flashes up in front of him in big, red letters. Almost immediately he can hear the scoldings of Thomas and Patton followed by Roman’s mumbled apology but it’s too late. The word sears itself into his brain and he can’t see anything other than the choice that they’ve made.

He swallows again. Alright. He’ll speak directly to the audience. Thomas has to listen to them eventually, doesn’t he?

…well, maybe, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting every time he pops up with something and it’s completely ignored. He tries to appeal to Patton’s sense of humor. He tries to give Roman something when he can’t find the right words. He tries to give Thomas something, anything.

Then he gets overexcited and pushes Patton into the blinds.

The second Roman’s sword flashes out and slices him neatly in two a searing bolt of pain spreads to his arms, to his chest, to his throat. He knows logically—he knows everything logically—he can’t be hurt by that. It isn’t him. He is not connected in any way physically to these lowdowns.

So why are his hands shaking?

This is so ridiculous. He is Logic. He should not be working like this, he should not be reacting like this. This is logically the next step, he must simply not be out of the adjustment process yet. Which is ridiculous in and of itself, has he not mentioned several times over that the presence of the others imbeds Thomas’s ability to think rationally and calmly about the issues they have to face? Has he not himself wondered that if he were not so…undone by being in the same room that he finds it difficult to keep going when he needs to? Shouldn’t this be better?

“You know I'm- I'm not doing a really great job explaining this philosophy. Um, Logan?”

Patton? Logan pops up.

Patton smiles—smiles?—at him as the box appears at the bottom of the screen. From this angle, he can’t see Roman or Thomas. What’s happening? Why hasn’t he been paying better attention?

Why can’t he focus?

“What would a real philosopher think about what I'm saying here?”

Oh. Oh, no. This isn’t going to be good, is it?

“Well, Frederich Nietzsche really wouldn't have been thrilled with anything you've had to say, primarily because pity seems to be at the center of your idea of ‘putting good into the world.’”

“Th-that's not what—“

“Nietzsche famously rejected the notion that pity was a virtue.”

“Okay,” comes the quiet mumble that, really, should’ve told him to stop talking now, he wasn’t being useful anymore.

But no. Logan was never very good at being quiet, now was he?

“He once claimed that pity ‘runs counter to the instincts that preserve and enhance the value of life…’”

Last chance, Logan, something in his head whispers as something else flashes in the corner of his vision.

‘Skip all.’

But they would never do that, right? They knew, somewhere, because Thomas knew, that you had to listen to Logic. You had to listen, at some point, because if you didn’t, what did you have? They would shake their heads or grumble in annoyance, or cut him off when he’d been talking for too long or ask him to be quiet, but they’d never skip him entirely, cut him out of the conversation, would they?

Patton’s finger presses the button and something of unyielding cold wraps around Logan’s neck.

He flails as it yanks, jerking back awake with his eyes open, out of the boxes, out of the video, at his desk, staring at the screen as his lowdown program blocks him out.

No.

No!

What happened? Why did they—is he—can he—

Why didn’t they want to listen?

Logan’s fingers fly over the keyboard in front of him, searching desperately for an answer. Maybe he programmed this wrong. Admittedly he’s a little new at programming so he could’ve messed something up that disconnected him. Maybe Patton clicked it by mistake. Why was there even a ‘skip all’ button to begin with? He doesn’t remember programming that. And what was it that wrapped around his throat?

His hand goes to his neck at the mere memory of the horrible thing that yanked him out. He winces when his fingers slide of patches of warm, inflamed skin. It…it actually hurt. It left a mark.

What—

The instant his lowdown pops up with his face, he knows.

It shouldn’t hurt. Really. This shouldn’t hurt.

Now perhaps Deceit could see what it was like to be Logic. Or at least to try and be Logic.

Now perhaps…perhaps he may have someone to talk to.

No.

Deceit was, in fact, far better at being Logic. Within an instant, he’d gotten the conversation to his side, gotten the others to listen, to think about what they were saying instead of just following on blind faith.

Of course.

Because it wasn’t Logic they didn’t want to listen to, was it?

It was Logan.

Logan closes his eyes. Alright. He can adapt to this. He can…he can work with this. He just has to figure out how.

He turns away from the computer, stands, and carefully makes his way across his room to the nightstand, where the emergency first-aid kit sits tucked in the drawer. He will patch himself up, best he can, and then figure out what to do.

He’s too distracted to hear Roman’s terrified shout.

“What have you done with Logan?”

———————————————————

A few hours after filming stops, there’s a very soft knock on Logan’s door. He doesn’t move from his desk, nor does he pause in his typing. False sympathies and empty comforts have never been very appealing.

…and he is just the slightest bit worried that he won’t be able to resist the urge to slam the door in Patton’s face.

Footsteps moving away sound from outside. Good. It’s better this way, isn’t it?

The lowdowns didn’t work. Well, they did…but they worked a little too well, didn’t they? Instead of being less invasive, they just…cut Logan’s contributions out entirely. They let Logan be taken. They were good for Logic, not Logan.

Logan’s head turns to the wall where he has two lists tacked up. Standing, the desk chair scraping behind him, he picks up the marker.

His job is to be Logic. Therefore, if he is failing at that job, he must find a way to be better.

The list on the left has ‘LOGIC’ written in large, block letters. On the right, ‘LOGAN.’ Isolating the key characteristics of each concept will help to shift himself properly into the role he must play. Logan’s eyes scan down the ‘LOGIC’ list.

LOGIC:

Emotionless

Useful

Rational

Necessary

Welcome

The end of the word ‘welcome’ is smeared. Logan looks down at the marker. His hands had shaken so much as he added that last word…why? It was true; logic should be welcome in any conversation, that’s why is it so useful, that’s why it has so many of the other characteristics that it has. Logic should be wanted, regardless of the subject matter, because of what it could do. It had felt so small of Logan to add the word, even when it was the correct course of action. Was it not implied by the others that it should be wanted?

That…that he should be wanted?

Unconsciously, Logan twists the cap of the marker back and forth as his eyes dart over to the ‘LOGAN’ list.

LOGAN:

Irritating

Invasive

Emotional

Easily dismissed

Unwanted

If he had any doubts about whether or not these qualifications were inaccurate, each had cemented their place on this list after today.

Logan’s hand flies to his neck again, grazing over the bandages he’d wrapped around himself, only to stutter to a halt when his fingers met the fabric of his tie.

His tie.

Hadn’t—he’d—he’d been so sure he’d been doing this right. He dressed well, he spoke carefully, he did his research, why—why was it so easy for them to say he was—to think of him as—

…why didn’t they want to listen to him?

He tried. He tried so hard to be what they wanted, what they would listen to, to appeal to each and every one of them to make sure he was still fitting in enough to be heard. Logic had to be heard, that’s one of its most important qualifications.

As his fingers fumble and catch around the knot, it pulls taut and for a moment he’s thrown back into the feeling of Deceit’s crook around his neck.

Oh.

Oh, that’s right…he…Deceit—or, well, Janus, now—didn’t he...he was…Logic isn’t the problem.

Janus’s Logic made them listen. Janus’s logic made them pay attention. Janus’s Logic was wanted.

Logan’s fingers slide off his tie in a numb haze.

His hand falls limply to his side.

He stares at the lists.

Irritating.

Invasive.

Emotional.

Easily dismissed.

There is a reason none of these qualifications have come up when he considers pure Logic.

A wave of cold rushes over Logan. His knees wobble. His hand staggers out for something, anything to grab onto, to hold, to stop himself from collapsing under the weight of what he just realized, to stop it, to stop it, to stop—

He hits the ground with a thud.

The words beat into his head over and over as he lies there, frozen, cold, so cold, curled up by his bed with something wrapped tightly around his throat and his glasses staying stubbornly on his face so the words remain in perfect focus.

It is not Logic that is the problem.

The others can use Logic.

The others can listen to Logic.

The others can want Logic.

They just don’t want Logan.

Logan curls closer around himself as it starts to become very, very cold. That…this can’t be right, he must be missing something. He’s emotionally compromised right now, he’s not any good at being Logic, maybe—maybe that means he’s doing it wrong, he has to be doing this wrong, there’s no way they could—they need him, don’t they? They need Logan, they have to listen to him, they—they—

Unbidden, a whine escapes Logan’s throat. It burns as it rings around his empty, cold room. He covers his face with his hands.

Even his cheeks feel icy cold.

Someone will notice, he tries frantically, someone will notice if I never show up again, someone will notice if I—if—if—

But they didn’t notice. Not today.

Not until it was too late.

Outside, in the corridor, a dark blue door begins to fade into the wall.

———————————————————

“Logan? Logan!”

Bam, bam, bam.

“Logan!”

Frantic hammering against the door jolts him awake. Immediately he winces as something in his neck catches. How—how long has he been like this?

“Logan, please, open the door, we—we can’t open it!”

Oh…the others have noticed…should go open the door.

Wincing again, Logan rights himself, sitting up with his back leaning against the bed, blinking through his fuzzy glasses. Why are they so filthy?

…oh, he must’ve been crying.

How emotional.

“Logan? Logan can you at least say something?”

“I’m gonna break this door down.”

“No!”

Well, yes, Logan does not want his door broken down. Groaning, he stands, making his way over to the door that—wait.

Why…why is his door so…pale?

The knob looks almost translucent as he reaches for it, his pulse hammering as his fingers close gently around where it should be. He takes a deep breath and carefully, carefully, turns it.

“Logan, thank god, I—“ Virgil cuts himself off with a choked gasp as he stares at Logan. “…L? What…what happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” The instant it comes out of his mouth he knows what Virgil means. He sounds like his throat is actively attempting to cut itself off with every breath.

A choked whine comes from behind Virgil. Logan’s eyes dart over to see Roman a sickly pale, staring at Logan, horrified.

“…S-specs? Specs, I—Logan, oh, no, can I—can we—“ Roman reaches for him, only to freeze and quickly pull back his hand.

Another wave of cold settles over Logan and his hand falls through the doorknob.

“Logan,” Virgil murmurs, “can we come in, please? I, uh, we wanna talk to you for a moment.”

Why would you want to talk to me?

“…of course.” Logan steps aside and lets them pass, looking down at his hand.

It’s still a hand, but it looks…thinner. He can tell where it isn’t, if that makes sense.

When has Logan ever made sense?

Virgil sits down on the floor, next to his bed. Roman hovers near the door, wringing his hands together as Logan carefully pushes the door closed.

“I’m sorry, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes widen as his head jerks around to face Roman. Roman gives him what may be the smallest smile he’s ever seen before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, the sincerity making the cold burn in Logan’s chest, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It—it was stupid of me to press the ‘ignorant’ button and it was not my intention to hurt you. And I...slashing your box was wrong too. I just saw Patton get hurt and I—”

He cuts himself off and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Logan," he repeats, softer this time, "for all that I have done to hurt you. I want to be better about it."

Oh. “…thank you, Roman,” Logan says carefully, “I appreciate your apology.”

Roman gives him a nod. Logan looks at Virgil, whose head still rests against the bed, staring at the two of them.

“Is this what you wanted to discuss?”

“Sort of, but…uh, Logan, you…you’re not looking so great, bud.” Virgil shifts, looking to Roman, who nods and takes a seat on the floor too, leaving a space between them. “Will you come sit with us?”

“…of course.”

Logan sits gingerly between the two of them, his gaze fixed on the outlet in the wall opposite them. He hears the rustling of fabric as Virgil shifts, and sees a little white in the corner of his eye as Roman scoots a tad closer.

“So,” Virgil murmurs after a second, “I guess this video was…hard.”

Roman huffs quietly. Logan nods. “Yes.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Have the others not already told you?”

“I’d like to hear it from you too.”

Logan takes a deep breath, ignoring the way the cold burns the inside of his lungs. “I attempted to implement a new strategy for how I interact with you and the viewers. Instead of appearing in person, I chose to use a series of lowdowns so the information would appear in a non-invasive way.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“…keep going, L.”

“They were…not as well-received as I had anticipated.”

A flash of movement and a stifled noise make him look over. Roman fiddles with the hem of his sleeve right in front of his mouth, obviously having cut himself off. He glances over.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want to interrupt. Please, continue.”

“I, er…” Logan swallows, something about the movement of Roman’s fingers holding his focus captive. “I hurt Patton.”

From his other side comes a sharp intake of breath. Logan looks away.

“I hurt Patton. I could not do my job properly. I had compromised the conversation. A ‘skip all’ button appeared and…”

“Patton pressed it,” Virgil finishes when Logan doesn’t speak, “he told me.”

Logan doesn’t say anything. The crook manifests around his throat again and he shudders.

“…Logan,” Roman’s worried voice says, even as it sounds like it’s coming from underwater, “Logan, did…what did that do to you?”

“Janus,” Logan croaks, “he—his staff, it—I—“

“Hey, hey,” Virgil croons, reaching for the hands that tug persistently at his collar, at his bandages, when did they get there?— “don’t do that, L, you’re gonna hurt yourself, stop that…”

“Logan, can I hold your hand, please?”

Logan lets Virgil tug his hands away from his neck. It—why—what’s happening?

Why are Virgil’s hands so warm?

Judging by Virgil’s expression, he’s as concerned about the stark difference in temperature as Logan is. Several emotions flit across his face before Logan can name them until they both register Roman’s question. Roman holds his hand out, all but pleading for Logan to let him.

“Please,” he whispers, his hand starting to tremble, “please, Logan, may I…can I just hold your hand?”

“Why are you so worried,” Logan wants to ask, “what is it that makes you so insistent about holding my hand?”

Instead, when his voice is barely about a strangled whisper and his first attempt makes his hand phase completely through Roman’s, the question emerges as a stifled scream.

“Shh, shh,” Roman whispers, moving in as close as he can, trying to curl his hands around where Logan’s should be, “it’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll—we’ll figure it out, Logan, we’ve got you, it’s okay—“

Roman burns.

“R-ro—“

“Easy, Roman,” Virgil mutters from behind him, “take it easy, you’re gonna freak us all out.”

“I know, I know.” Roman clutches the air of Logan’s hand tightly. “Okay…okay, Specs, we gotta…we’re gonna take some deep breaths, okay?”

No, no, it hurts when Logan does that, what’s…

He does as bid. The air whines in protest as he slowly breathes in and out, in and out, focusing on Roman’s thumb rubbing small circles into his hand. Roman seems to calm a little as he watches, bringing Logan’s hand close enough to cradle it in his lap as they breathe.

“Good,” Virgil manages, still clutching Logan’s other hand tightly, his own voice shaking slightly, “okay, now we’re all just gonna calm down, yeah? Just…nice and calm…”

Logan has no idea how long they sit there, on the floor, only that after a few more deep breaths, it no longer hurts. Roman’s hand no longer burns, it’s just warm. Virgil no longer trembles, he’s just there.

“My apologies,” he manages, “I did not mean to be so…inconvenient.”

Roman’s cry of protest is quickly accompanied by: “hey, no, none of that, Logan, you’re not being inconvenient. It’s been a hard day for all of us.”

“But was I not—“

“No,” Roman interrupts gently, “I’m sorry for interrupting, but…no, Logan. Nothing that happened today was your fault. Absolutely nothing.”

“…I’m the one who hurt Patton.”

“That was an accident and you didn’t know it was going to do that,” Roman says firmly, “and it was our fault we didn’t listen to you. So much that you felt that was your only option.”

Logan swallows. “…what about Janus?”

“What about him,” Virgil prompts, “the fact that he…came into the video?”

“It was my lowdowns that enabled him to do so.”

“And we pressed the ‘skip all’ button,” Roman says. “And I’m the one who gave him tips on how to impersonate the rest of us better.”

Roman is right, even as Logan begins to feel cold again. Still, he opens his mouth.

“I…I’m not…I can’t…it…”

“Logan,” Roman says quietly when Logan can’t seem to find the words, “none of us are angry with you. I’m certainly not angry with you, and I’m…I’m sorry about everything that I may have done and have done to give you the impression that I do not hold you in the highest esteem possible.”

Logan’s mouth drops open in shock.

“I think you overdid it a little there, Princey,” Virgil chuckles.

“But it’s true,” Roman insists, still cradling Logan’s hand in his lap, “Logan, you’re…you’re so important. And if I have done anything that makes you think I don’t care so much about you, then I…I will do everything I can to fix this.”

What?

“You…but we..we fight,” Logan manages weakly, “all the time, you…you disagree with me every chance you get, how—“

“I told you on movie night,” Roman says, the corner of his mouth tugging up, “I poke fun at the things I love.”

Love.

Logan’s brain stutters to a pause.

“You’re my family, Logan,” Roman continues, oblivious to the fact that Logan.exe has stopped functioning, please try again later, “and I…you are so clever, so sharp, so good that of course I want to talk to you about things. I respect your opinion so much and I want to hear everything.”

“Yeah, if you ever stop teaching us stuff I might actually start crying and never stop.”

“Virgil!”

“What, like you’re any better?”

“Of course not! I would be devastated!”

“Wait, wait,” Logan mumbles, “you—you what?”

“L,” Virgil calls softly, still chuckling a little as Logan turns to look at him, “L, we care about you so much. We wanted to give you space, especially after today, but…dude, you know we need you, don’t you?”

“You need Logic,” Logan mumbles, “you…of course you need Logic.”

“We do,” Roman confirms as the cold threatens to open up in Logan’s chest again, “but we also love Logan.”

“You have got to stop throwing that word around,” Virgil murmurs, “you’re gonna send him into a full-blown freak-out.”

“But we do, Virgil. We do love him, so much, and if he doesn’t know that…”

Roman squeezes a surprisingly solid hand in his lap.

“…then we have to remind him.”

Virgil huffs, scooting closer. “Yeah, well, that’s easy enough.”

No, no, it very much is not.

Logan’s brain is still struggling to come to grips with the first thing Roman said, about poking fun at the things he loves. He hasn’t come close to tackling the fact that Roman just said they loved him.

And Virgil agreed.

“This…this doesn’t make sense,” Logan says weakly, “this doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?” Virgil’s hand is a warm weight against his side. “That we love you?��

“…y-yes?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Virgil murmurs, “what makes you so convinced that you’re unlovable?”

“I…I can’t…I am emotionally compromised. I cannot do my job properly. I will not be as useful as you—“

“Do you need to be useful to be lovable?”

“Don’t you?”

“No,” he says firmly, pressing Logan between the two of them, “no, you don’t, Logan. We love you for you, not for what you can do.”

“Don’t leave us, Logan.” The sheer amount of pain in Roman’s voice aches. “Not because you think we won’t want you.”

A horrible laugh bubbles up in his throat. “And here I thought you were going to leave me.”

“Never,” Roman promises, “never.”

“We did threaten to break down your door because it was starting to fade from the hallway.”

“…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“You don’t need to know right now, we’ll help you.”

“I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this.”

“We’re all working on things, it’s okay.”

“But I—“ Logan swallows heavily— “I don’t know if I can stop believing that I…that it is just Logic you want and not Logan.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Roman calls, squeezing his hand, “I still struggle with that too.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “You what?”

“Believe that you only keep me around as long as I make things that you think are useful?” Roman smiles sadly. “Yeah.”

“But you’re—you—Thomas would not be able to exist without you!”

“Wouldn’t he?”

“No! It’s not just—Roman, you’re so much more than Creativity, if you weren’t here, we…” Logan takes a deep breath and swallows. “Something would truly be lost if you weren’t here.”

He stops.

“…oh.”

“Yeah, Specs,” Roman whispers, “‘oh.’”

“…oh.”

“Come here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, opening his arms and letting Logan fall into his embrace, “don’t you leave us, okay?”

Virgil drapes himself over them, wrapping his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’ll figure it out, L, but you gotta stick around, okay? Don’t—well, try not to worry about whether or not you’re being the perfect Logic. We want you.”

“…promise?”

“I promise.”

“I promise too,” Roman murmurs, letting Logan rest against his chest, “now why don’t we all get into something more comfortable and we can have another look at your neck?”

“Yes. That sounds…good.”

“And Logan?” Logan cranes his head up to look. “If you ever stop teaching us things and telling me about stuff I will start crying.”

Despite everything, Logan smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says quietly, the chill finally beginning to thaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

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kizzer · 2 years

Text

Spellotape Is Definitely Not Considered A "Professional Repair" Part 2| Harry Potter FF|

warnings: none

also I write for black readers but feel free to change certain characteristics using the InteractiveFics chrome extension!

Being born the daughter of the most wanted man in all of the wizard world wasn’t the ideal way of life, BUT being a Black wasn’t easy to begin with.

??? x Dayonna (not sure)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

You all stop in front of the Gryffindor common room, your breath catches at the amazing sight in front of you. it was huge, but nothing you didn't expect from the lion's den. While you admired the elegant outside of the common room, your eyes landed on a familiar red-headed girl, who was so busy rubbing crust out of her eyes she barely noticed you standing there. Once she finally stopped rubbing at her eyes, she looked in front of her, glancing at the two boys in front of you—her eyes meeting yours; you flash her a smile. You watched as she followed the white beard that fell slightly above your shoulder up to her headmaster's face, finally resting at McGonagall's slight grin. "W-What are you all doing here?" She asked. "It's almost 3 hours past curfew....uh- did you two cause trouble?? Speaking of trouble, where have you two idiots been- and you, don't I know yo-" before she could finish Dumbledore places a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger, your friends are safe and in one piece. Now, me and Y/N here have to go so please take Harry and Ron into the common room so they can freshen up and rest for the morning." Hermione takes one more look at you, causing you to raise one eyebrow. You thought about telling her where you knew her from but at that moment you felt like you should wait until morning. She and the two boys disappear behind the painting of the fat lady and you turn towards McGonagall and Dumbledore, "So I obviously missed the sorting and the feast...I'm sorry by the way....where should I sleep for now??" You look down at your feet, flinging your hair behind your shoulder.

"Well actually," McGonagall starts. "I was thinking- if Dumbledore would allow it, you could have a private sorting in his office. That way you have a place to sleep."

"What a splendid idea Mrs.McGonagall. Would that be okay for you Y/N? Unless you are tired, then you could sleep in my chambers of course."

"No! No, really I'm wide awake! I also really want to see where I get placed." Dumbledore and McGonagall shared a hearty laugh. You all quickly make your way to Dumbledore's office. As he leads you throughout his office you can't help but gravitate to the thousands of shelves, running your fingers along the spine of old books, walking over to the display cases, afraid to even touch them- to breathe on them. You get lost in yourself, awe clearly displayed on your face. The office was grand, a perfect fit for a perfect headmaster. Before you could approach his desk you feel a hand placed on your shoulder, you turn around to see Dumbledore, a smile of amusement on his face. He leads you up a flight of stairs where a chair rests empty in the middle of the floor, you promptly take a seat while McGonagall places the hat on your head. Your heart is racing, palms are sweaty, you take long deep breaths to steady your heart before it jumps out of your chest.

As soon as the hat is placed on your head he lets out a thoughtful sigh, you can hear him in your head, "hmmm.....you are very strong willed aren't you Y/N? Very hardworking, loyal...you value honesty and morals over all....you could be a Hufflepuff, even a Ravenclaw. What do you think?"

"Um....I don't really know. i haven't really thought about it you know.....because...i didn't- um...think i would ever get to go here." You never really said those things out loud but, it was the truth. You never thought you were good enough, you thought people would hate you, you thought everyone would see you as an arrogant, loudmouth bother who didn't deserve to attend Hogwarts. it was always a bubbling feeling of yours that you were afraid was going to boil over at some point. Being casted aside by your family, being blamed for your fathers insanity and your mothers death wasn't something that gave you a sour taste in your mouth until you were alone with your thoughts. if it hadn't been for Kreacher and his company and the magic tricks he used to show you then you probably wouldn't be who you are today....you were eternally grateful.

Huffle-Griffin-Slytherclaw!" screamed the hat. it was so loud it jolted you out of your thoughts and made you look around for McGonagall and Dumbledore. You couldn’t believe what you heard. it was your first time at Hogwarts but you were definitely aware that there was no such thing as ‘Huffle-Griffin-Slytherclaw’....whatever that was. You look around to find Dumbledore and McGonagall looking at you in disbelief.

"Y/N….do you have any idea what this means?” McGonagall asked you taking hold of your shoulders and lifting the hat off of your head.

"No...could someone- i don’t know, explain?? What in the world is a Huffle-Griffin-Slytherclaw? if that was a no he could have just said that you know…"

"Y/N, this means the hat believes you are worthy of being in all four houses. Not even those who were thought to be in more than one house were actually placed in them.”

"WHAT?? Um...may-maybe there was a mistake. The hat….the hat thinks that a Black is worthy of being in all four houses? I don't know if I can accept that” you laugh awkwardly, moving from McGonagall’s grip and down the stairs to the main floor of Dumbledore’s office.

You? In all four houses? Seriously? That's impossible. Not only are you a part of the Black family, known for causing trouble, but your father was Sirius Black. The man wanted for the Potter killing. There was no way you would be in all four houses.</p>

"Come on, I mean- McGonagall, Dumbledore,” You laugh dismissively. “You can’t possibly believe this can you? May I remind everyone of the fact that I am a Black...no- no one remembers but me? Okay.”

"Y/N, you are going to make a lovely student and the few people in your family who have made bad decisions should not mean you are cursed for life.” says Dumbledore.

'I don't know whether to laugh or...to just take it how it is because at this point, I’m already here, and I didn't spend my entire life fantasizing about me in a Hogwarts robe to get freaked out now' you thought.

You look between Dumbledore and McGonagall and shrug. “Um...I hope I don’t come off as rude- and no offence to you hat,” you say putting your hand out to pat the sorting hat, he just hums in recognition and leans into your touch. “But as wacked out as all this seems I’m pretty beat so i would really like to go lie down. I don’t understand what is happening but this sure is Hogwarts so I’m not really surprised. As for my sleeping arrangement, where shall I sleep?”

Dumbledore strokes his beard thoughtfully. “I believe that the Gryffindor commonplace is the right place for you Y/N.”

“Oh, um… maybe I could sleep in the Hufflepuff room? Or even in the Ravenclaw room? Anywhere but Gryffindor and Slytherin...please.” you say making the best puppy dog eyes you could.

"May I ask why you would choose not to sleep in the Gryffindor room? After all, you do have friends waiting for your return.” McGonagall opens the door to reveal Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and the redhead from early standing at the door with guilty smiles on their faces. You shook your head. This is exactly why you didn’t want to sleep anywhere near them, you didn’t do friends. You never had any besides Kreacher anyway and you didn’t plan on doing that now. You just blankly stared at them while casually throwing up a little wave.

"Hey...nice to see you three again I guess.” you look towards McGonagall and Dumbledore and by the look in their eyes you could tell you were going to be sleeping in the Gryffindor room for tonight at least. You sigh, walking out the door following the lot down the hall and to the Gryffindor common room entrance.

“So, where do I know you from again?” asks the redhead girl.

“Bookstore. You shamed me because I didn’t recognize the great Harry Potter…” you say monotone, hoping the tone of your voice sends a ‘hey i don’t wanna talk so please shut it’ signal to them.

“Hermione! How could you?” Ron says jokingly appalled.

“Oh shut it Ronald, anyways i didn’t mean it like that i just meant that any real wizard would know who Harry was. After all he was the only one to survive he-who-shall-not-be-named..”

“Oh, so just because I don’t obsess over Harry Potter I’m not a real wizard??” you say stopping in your tracks to evaluate the group in front of you. You couldn’t believe that a girl you didn’t even know, a girl who didn’t even know you decided she could evaluate whether or not you were a real witch. Not only that, but you were a BLACK. Almost the most pureblooded of the pure but of course she didn’t know that. You stood there waiting for an answer, but neither of them were giving you one so you just scoffed and continued on your way to the Gryffindor common room.

“Hermione, she’s a Black so wouldn’t she count as a real wizard?” said Ron.

“Wait- she is? Is she related to him?” she said, trying to whisper but obviously failed. Harry nudged her in her rib getting an ouch from her but you didn’t pay it any mind. You wish you could read her from the ugly style of her hair to the crooked stitching of her robe that even a person with terrible eyesight could see but you knew that it wasn’t worth it.

“Do you mean my father Sirius Black? You know you can say his name...it doesn't offend me. If anything, you trying to avoid it like some curse is more offensive.” You say, taking a pause in front of the Gryffindor entrance. You didn’t want to sleep here but you didn’t know how exactly to get in. Ron looked at you then back at the others, you guessed trying to figure out why you stopped. Then you saw the look on his face, he wanted to know which house you were placed in but before he could ask Harry walked up to the painting and got us in without a problem. They lead you through the common room and to these spiral stairs. They stop in front of a door and look at one another.

"So....are we here or what? I don’t know if you can tell but I'm tired as all hell and would like to go to sleep.” you say sighing and crossing your arms.

“Oh um, this is Ron and Harry’s room. Girls and Boys don’t usually sleep in the same room but no one is going to be in there with them today so we planned on rooming together...would you like to join us?” Hermione says gesturing to the door. You just shrug and push open the door. You walk into a massive circular room with beds all facing each other. ‘What a cozy room. Looks like a room made for friends. Great.’ you thought. You didn’t wait for no one else to pick a bed and chose the bed directly in the middle. It was always comforting to know that someone was on either side of you ready to protect you. You kicked off your shoes and discarded your coat. Before you laid down you looked at the boys and then down at your clothes. How were you going to change if they were in there? You pulled out your mom's wand and whispered the words cecità temporanea. There was a flash of light and the boys could no longer see, Hermione started to panic and Ron started to yell hysterically. You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle and wish you could leave them that way but they were being too noisy.

"Oh my gosh can you guys just relax? It’s a temporary blinding spell I came up with when I was younger. It shouldn't take no longer than 15 minutes before it wears off.”

"Can I ask why you cast a blinding on us?!” Harry asked, obviously offended.

"I needed to change. Kreacher has yet to bring my-”Before you could finish your sentence, Kreacher appears in your room with your luggage in tow. You are so delighted to see him it takes everything in you not to hug him and squeeze the air out of his small house elf lungs.

“Miss, Kreacher has come to bring your luggage. Sorry Kreacher was late. Kreacher had to help out in the kitchen.”

<p> “It’s fine Kreacher, I’m just glad to see you.” you say bending down to meet your small friend. “Also, what did I tell you about calling me Miss Kreacher? It’s Y/N. If you refuse to call me by my name then please refrain from speaking to me.” you laugh light heartedly and take your luggage from your small pal. You bid Kreacher a farewell. You rummage through your luggage trying to find your head scarf, you can’t have your braids going bad. You could always change your hair with a spell but you just got these done for school and you couldn’t risk messing them up. You feel a pair of eyes on you as you pull out an oversized shirt and some shorts. After you are done changing you look up at Hermione.

“Is there something you wanna say? You have been staring..” You pull your shirt over your head and take down your pants. You wish you could shower but you are too exhausted and this school is too big to be wandering late at night.

"Oh- me and the guys were talking and...we wanted to know what house you got sorted in.”

“Oh, um, I got sorted into all four houses. But, I’m pretty sure that it was a fluke.” You unspell Harry and Ron and jump into bed. It became awfully quiet. It wasn’t like them, especially Ron and you only knew them for half a day, probably less! You sit up a little and raise your eyebrows.

“What?”

“You got sorted into ALL four houses? That means you must be better than Harry!” says Ron.

“Oh shut it you muppet! There is no way that is possible. No one has ever gotten sorted into all four houses, not even Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Who’s to say I won’t be the first?” you shoot back at Hermione.

“Let’s just get some rest shall we? We will talk about it in the morning.” Harry says jumping over to another bed besides yours. You look him in the eyes and for some reason you get lost in them. You smirk for a second but then you catch yourself. Harry Potter. In the same room as you, in the bed next to you. He looked just like his father. It made you laugh a little, you gave him a small wink and turned over to go to bed.

The next day you wake up way before the sun rises. Did you even get any sleep? Your body felt heavy but you knew that once you were awake there was no going back to sleep. You turned over and saw that Harry Potter was awake. Watching you. He shoots you a small smile and you turn over the other way. ‘No...there will be no making friends. You don’t do friends, Y/N.’

You’ve been alone for a very long time and you didn’t even like them. Especially that Hermione chick. As you lift your body to get out of bed Professor McGonagall strolls in and illuminates the room. You and Harry shield yourselves from the bright light.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” McGonagall calls out.

”Yes, Yes I am awake. I might be blind as well but it’s all too dark to tell at the moment.” You say rubbing your eyes before stretching your body out. You got a laugh out of Harry, you thought it wasn’t that serious seeing as you were being completely serious but what could you do. McGonagall informs you that you have to meet Dumbledore as soon as you prepare for your day to receive your uniform. You dreaded this so much. What would your uniform even look like? After all, you belong to all four houses. You unwrapped your hair and threw on a small jacket with sweatpants. You pulled out your dino slippers getting a quizzical look from Harry.

“Dinosaur slippers? Really?”

“Mind your business Potter. I didn’t even pack my own bags. Kreacher did.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you have a house elf..”

“Get your beauty rest princess and worry about your own stuff, yeah?” You say before following McGonagall out of the room. You arrive at Dumbledore’s office and you say goodbye to McGonagall.

“Hello Y/N, how did you sleep?” Dumbledore says, leading you up these stairs and onto the platform where your sorting happened.

“I feel like I barely slept. But, overall I slept okay. What about you?”

“Hahaha I slept fine thank you.” He conjures a floating wardrobe and when it opens you see an all white uniform with black stocking, a white scarf with the Hogwarts house colors on it and a black sweater vest with the four Hogwarts houses embraided on the right chest plate. It was so beautiful you couldn’t stop staring at it. Dumbledore lets out a hearty laugh and waves his wand, transforming your sweats and jacket into that beautiful white uniform. You felt fantastic, your white robe flowing down your body, the uniform hugging your curves just perfectly. It was everything you dreamed it would be and more. You just never thought you would actually be living your dreams. You spin a little in your new uniform smiling from ear to ear.

“I see you like it. I’m glad.” says Dumbledore walking towards you.

“Thank you so much Dumbledore!! I really appreciate it..”

“Of course now go and eat breakfast. Oh and here is your schedule. Your books and materials will all be delivered later on today so watch out for your owl. Now, go on. Have fun.”

You left Dumbledore’s office feeling better than ever. You couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. You start running down the hall, full speed, you couldn’t wait to eat. You didn’t even notice how hungry you were. You walk through the massive doors to find an even more impressive dining hall. It was something so marvelous that you got completely lost in the work along the walls. You walked aimlessly looking all around you when you made contact with a pretty stiff body.

“Hey! Watch where the- cousin?” You look up to see no one other than your slightly older cousin Draco. He looked...different, he was taller, his hair looked crispier than ever, but he still had that sad look in his eyes like he always did. He extends his hands towards you and you take it, being lifted and spun around.

"It’s been awhile, Draco. How has mum been?”

“She is well, so is father of course. Anyways, I thought I would never see you again and here you are...right in front of me.” you smile a little. You and Draco used to be so close to one another. You used to share the same bathroom well into your teenage years but after your mothers death and your fathers. Mishap your family avoided you all together.

“Here, sit with me. Also, what house did you get sorted in?”

“Oh..um all four?? That’s why my uniform looks different from everyone else…"

“You got sorted in all four houses?!” He screams as loud as possible. You think even the muggle realm heard him.

“Shhhh!! Don’t just yell it out. I am sure it was a mistake. But right now I am in all four houses.” As you continue on your conversation with your cousin a tall, extremely handsome young man with chiseled features, dark hair, and bright grey eyes approaches you and your cousin. He stops in front of you extending his hand, smiling warmly enough to melt you into a pool of wizard goop.

“Hello, I am Cedric Diggory, the perfect of the Hufflepuff house. It’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N. Why don’t you come sit with me, i can introduce you to all of my friends”

“She’s fine, she hasn’t even touched her food yet. Right Y/N?” Draco said. It wasn’t like you couldn’t speak for yourself but for some reason this Cedric dude had a hold on you. Before you could finally say something Dumbledore walks in with everyone on the teaching staff. He stood in front of the Great Hall and everyone got quiet. It was so still you’re pretty sure no one was even breathing. Dumblore must have sensed it because he let out a hearty laugh and told everyone that there was no reason to worry; he just wanted to share a new ‘discovery’ they encountered. He gave you a reassuring look before calling you up to stand with him and the rest of your teachers. You felt like you could die. Why? Why was this happening to you? Why couldn’t Harry Potter have done something to cause the end of the world? It just had to be about you. You stood, slowly making your way to Dumbledore ignoring the whispers of your peers. Whether good or bad you didn’t want to find out. You could barely stomach this as it was.

As you walked past the golden trio Ron looked at you worriedly and mouthed a ‘what happened?’ to you but you just ignored him and continued on. When you reached Dumbledore he had you face your peers and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

<p> “Wizards and Witches, I am here to present to you the first ever Hogwarts student to be placed in ALL four houses!” His voice boomed over all the cheers and questionable gasps. You waved slightly which got a few laughs but you couldn’t stop shaking. “Y/N Black here is a very rare addition to our roster. Please welcome her with open arms.” The room was filled with cheers and applause. As you walk down from the stage, everyone crowds you, asking a million and one questions. Some wondered what powers you possessed, others asked how could a Black be housed in all of the houses but you didn’t pay them any mind.

Being in the middle of all the chaos, you saw one girl who remained seated. Lost in her own thoughts. She seemed happy and at peace. She must have felt you staring because she looked up and gave you a small smile waving her hand and for some reason you didn’t wave back; you could only stare. She let out a small giggle and returned back to her daydreams. You lean over to Draco and whisper, “Yo, who is that? The girl at the table?”

“Oh her, that’s Loony Lovegood. Don’t even think about it cuz, she is exactly what everyone calls her; a loon.” He scoffs and waves you off leaving you to your thoughts.

#harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter x black!reader #plus size reader

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