#and I like. I am real. the world is real. I think I saw through the nonstop dissociation veil for half a second there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blingblong55 · 3 days

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Gold Rush- Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request: heyy! I love your writing style and am I big simper for makarov!<3 Ignore this if you don't want to do it but what about reader being apart of makarov's crew and him falling in love with them during a mission. Thank you sooo much if ur going to do this!<333 ---- F!Reader, fluff/romance? ----

Being part of Konni was always a risk, especially when the rest of the world is against you and your teammates. Makarov, the man who started everyone just so happened to be by your side in this mission. He was rough, cold and serious, rarely making jokes unless you were a part of his inner circle. Tonight, he leads the team through yet another dangerous mission.

You were walking towards another part of the enemy base when he stopped you. He shakes his head, "Too risky, take left," he commands but you know this place best. "If I take left the guards will notice me, this way is their blind spot, trust me," you voice above a whisper. "If you get us caught-"

"I won't," you cut him off.

For nearly three hours, the team and you sneaked around, gathering as much intel as possible before sunrise.

By the time the helo had arrived, he allowed you to go first, weird for a man like him to care about such things. On the way back to base, he sits beside you, "Smart move back there, Y/n," he says in a much softer voice. What he hadn't expected was for him to develop a soft spot for a person in his team, much less you.

It didn't start tonight, no, this took time to develop.

About two years ago, that is when he first noticed you. The team and you were just hanging around, it was an odd day, with no work or worries. He watches how his men laugh, how you sit by the corner, listening but not engaging and he takes note of that. With time, he notices how blunt you were, how you didn't glorify anything, especially not him. All others did, well those who were allies to his so-called 'cause'.

You didn't mean to be mean when you were honest, you just said things like how you saw them, even with him. Another thing he noticed was how shy you were, but when asked your words spoke differently to how you are.

With time, he found himself smiling at what you did, the dumb jokes only you and the person telling them understood. Secretly, he began to memorise you. It would be a fear to others if he did this but in this light, it was romantic. He began to notice the smile you had when you'd read a book and it got to an interesting part.

One night, he sat down on some stairs, looking up at the starry night as smoke ran in his lungs. He did this only when he knew you'd be jogging around base, sleepless nights were your excuse but he knew the real reason.

Others noticed how kind he was to you, how he never laughed when you were the butt of the joke. It became clear when he would only beeline to you when books were in his hand. All in Russian but as he said, "The author made it in Russian because the emotions are better written."

He always had a book he needed you to read. In some cryptic way, the words between pages and titles were his way of being a poet to the girl in the jogging shoes.

Tonight, as the team arrives back on base, he asks you to stay back.

Why be feared if you, yourself fear something?

The walk to his office was calm, screw whoever said comfortable silence was overrated. This silence with him was nice, it was...beautiful in some way.

"I wanted to...say something I think is idiotic to say, especially for a man like me," he starts. Your gaze on his soft eyes, those heterochromatic eyes.

He takes a deep breath and continues, "I like you. I like all about you and I think I would be a fool if I never said this. You can act as shy as you want, and pretend I annoy you, but I want a lot of things with you. I've read poems that remind me of you. I like our night routines, I like how you know the real me. I like how everyone here adores you...at least I do. I didn't like how you have become the only person I get nervous around but...now, I do. But I do hate that you make me feel excited, happy and hopeful and that you know me better than anyone. I hate worrying about you so if you must, reject me now so I can have a real reason to hate myself too."

His eyes desperately looking at yours and when a smile appears on that beautiful face of yours, he smiles too.

For three months, he and you get close. Milena, the woman everyone, even the enemies, thinks is his lover only stays close so she can finally see a long-time friend happy.

Everywhere he goes, those sweet eyes you've come to love steal glances at you. Small, secret smiles capture no one but the eyes of each other. He becomes the constant in your life as you do to his.

In this world, he shouldn't show anyone his shiny toy. He mustn't since he knows others will break the one fragile thing he allows himself to have. So, like the flower-covered coat pockets in his home, he keeps you tucked away for when his hands can be fragile again.

Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @rvivienner @frazie99 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @viomast @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @strangepuppynightmare @strawberrychita @Llelannie @anonymuslydumb @nobodys-coffee @rowrowrowyourboat13 @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @marshiely @baruque-ya @tuihiatus @iruzias @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 3 days

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What About Scaramouche? Like not Wanderer, Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers Scaramouche.

Scaramouche, The Sixth Harbinger, is on False Creator's side.

Because they promised him a throne of an Archon. As soon, as they have one available.

When Creator decided, what to do with Dendro Archon.

"Don't bow so low, Scaramouche. You are a future Archon. Carry yourself with more dignity." gently scolds Creator. Scaramouche lift his head, looking at Their Holiness. At the embodiment of power and grace.

_________

Scaramouche bowed before Ivory Throne. Creator's voice was calm and welcoming.

He didn't dare to ask, when he will get his title. He believed in Creator. They will fulfill their promise. They were above people and gods. Above the sin of lie.

Yet, Scaramouche wished, that the days of his godhood came sooner.

If only that stubborn Dendro Archon will make up their mind.

________

Devine came into Sanctuary of Surasthana. Something more devine, in the eyes of other people, than Dendro Archon, trapped inside the Sanctuary. Devine were there before. They didn't get what they want before. Devine hopped, that this time, they will get it.

"Don't worry, dear child. I will let you free." Devine sang their siren song. "But before... Say it."

Dendro Archon, who was trapped for all her life, looked smug. Devine came to hate that smug smile.

Like before, Nahida tilted her head. And repeated the same words.

"Where are your familiars, Holy One? Where are the ones, who helped you built this world? Who faced down armies of usurpers, battled demons, who have healed your wounds and carried your broken body across war scarred plains? Why their home, your cradle, lay in shambles?"

Devine slammed both hands against the surface of Nahida's cage. Their eyes, for a moment, lost focus. Nahida knew, that, if one of her aranaras was here, they would say, that "Marana showed itself".

They weren't a god.

They were Marana.

Corruption. Sin. Destruction.

"Wrong answer..."

The illusion, that False Creator created and wears upon themselves, was broken. And Nahida saw them. Yellowish sharp teeth. Her cage didn't let smells, but Nahida knew, that Fake's breath smells of rotten flesh.

Nahida knew, that she was safe. Irmensul will listen only to her.

And Fake will not risk it. They wouldn't want to spend their powers on taking control over Irmensul.

No powers means no illusion. No illusion means no praises, no followers, no throne of Devine.

Nahida looked Fake in the eyes. Unblinking.

Fake let out an almost animalistic roar. They breathe in, turned on their heels and stomped away.

Illusion was on again.

"I am getting impatient, child. Be a good kid, and think again. And I will let you out of the room."

Doors of Sanctuary of Surasthana closed behind Fake.

And Nahida reached out to Irmensul. Through the invisible thread. The last gift of dead Celestial.

'Safe real Creator. Don't let Demon got them.'

Irmensul branches, that were hiding remains of Celestia were still whole.

Perhaps, one day, they will help Real Creator.

__________

In a three month, The Imposter Hunt will begin.

__________

Scaramouche will do anything to secure his future position. He and his Fatui subordinates will burn Teyvat, if it means they could find an Imposter.

And, after Nahida's involvement in helping Imposter was discovered, Scaramouche will personally tear Sanctuary of Surasthana apart.

Scaramouche will get the title of an Archon. He will get Dendro Gnosis.

If only he knew, where Previous Archon has disappeared, why he can't reach Irmensul, and where Imposter was hiding?

_________

Your boat stopped at one of the deserted shores of Fontaine. Nahida tell you, that you can find help here.

The small stone flower, creation of Nahida and one of the Celestia gods, felt heavy in your bag.

It was your link with Irmensul. And with remains of Celestia. With remains of Real Creator's powers.

_______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

#self-awarebsd #imposter sagau #sagau impostor au #imposter au #scaramouche #nahida

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goldkirk · 7 months

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[sits bolt upright from lying on the floor, idly contemplating the ceiling at 5:29 p.m.]

MAYBE I’M NOT WORTHLESS! MAYBE I’M NOT EVIL WRAPPED IN DISGUISE! MAYBE I’M NOT STAINED AND DIRTY AND CORRUPTED IN MY SOUL! MAYBE I’M NOT HORRID! MAYBE PEOPLE REALLY WEREN’T TOTALLY TRICKED INTO LIKING ME! MAYBE I’M NOT A BLACK STAIN AND DRAIN ON THE WORLD! MAYBE I ACTUALLY HAVE SOMETHING GOOD TO SHARE!

#THIS IS A REVELATION #I was reading ao3 comments and it suddenly hit me that these are REAL #and I like. I am real. the world is real. I think I saw through the nonstop dissociation veil for half a second there #I. know a lot of things rationally. I thought I had been learning them emotionally too.#I realize now that I am not #but also! glory and trumpets! the glimpse of that concept where I am not an evil bad angry hurtful violent manipulative selfish human #that was a good glimpse. I hope I can believe that for minutes at a time someday #wow. can you imagine if we felt like that all the time. what the fuck. no one could stop us #I hope we get there someday!#I hope we all make it!#personal #trauma evolution

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dykedvonte · 19 days

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If Ulysses has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If Ulysses has one hater, then I'm THAT ONE. If Ulysses has no haters, that means I'm dead. If the world is with Ulysses than I’m against the world.

#this is slightly joking but like also not but also like am mixed on Ulysses on many factors #infuriating because i sympathize with his pain but it’s like #he is a well written and fundamentally flawed character whose hypocrisy I found doubly in #black characters I can tell were designed by white people with a semblance of an understanding of activism and bipoc oppression #but not enough for the character to not feel like hand holding for the majority white audience #plus personal grips with the whole twisted hairs thing and reference to slave braiding patterns #Ulysses irks me as a black person on a weird personal level and I can go into debt on why him being black is a big detractor for him to me #like he continues this cycle of distancing himself from his roots before remembering over and over again through his actions #he leave so much in his wake that the courier ends up correcting or helping like in honest hearts and old world blues because he’s self #righteous in a subtle way even to himself that he believes he stand out of his one man rule when he does not play an active hand #saw a post talk about how you choose to continue moving through his story and can leave at any moment and this it is partially your fault #but what of the oath that is set before you and is forced to take that he set up #I do not have to walk it but when I do the steps are not my own but those taken for me #you have to go out of your way to change it which is not something he expects because he’s playing by a story he’s been perpetuating in his #head about you two and the effect one man has when he’s continually been that one man more so than you as many of his actions directly lead #to the one you go through also the irony in the flag he continues to bear being the real reason he has no home #like he reps it when the package is likely enclave and thus use the same symbol #also still can’t get over how anyone could have delivered the package and he tries so hard to act like it was the couriers destiny or fate #when this was the one case of chance and that once man was likely a enclave engineer and how it’s really is never one man #it the process and he’s so annoying about it like he’s a cool character but if you don’t believe in his philosophy or already went through #these ideas cause they are very common talking points in poc especially BIPOC spaces he’s just old hashings and stunted #fallout #fallout new vegas #Ulysses you upset me but I’m like I feel you could be better if you weren’t so incessant #I don’t think I ever want to make a serious post stating this about him just because I’d start yapping and it’d never get finished #ulysses fnv #fnv ulysses #lonesome road

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sassmill · 3 months

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“If a lot of men get killed at one go, does it make the killing of one man less of a crime? I don’t know, Andy, I don’t know. I’m only twenty and they say today the world is ours, but Pa was twenty once and felt the world was his, and long, long ago Mad was twenty too, laughing at applauding audiences, smiling from picture postcards, and when I am as old as she is nothing will have changed…”

Daphne du Maurier, Rule Britannia (1972)

#think about the context of this woman writing this right #she was born in 1907 #so by the time she was 20 she had lived through one world war with the next right on the horizon #as well as at this point witnessing the effects of so many other 20th century conflicts #she’s 65 at this point and this is what she sees ahead for future generations #which I’ve no doubt others saw coming as well but just like everyone for USUK in the book is acting #I’m sure plenty read this and thought but that could never happen not now not here not to us #but look where we are today #look at the genocide being enacted in Palestine #I want people to read this book in 2024 and think hard about it #because the events of the book are happening to white people in England right #I’m not at all trying to say she described anything on the level of the real world atrocities currently happening #but the slowly building anxiety of ‘but what could really happen they won’t do that’#then overnight all these new restrictions and retaliation #phones cut power cut water cut travel ban #just because it’s happening to people far away from your life #doesn’t mean it could never happen #you wouldn’t see it coming or think it was all that bad until suddenly it was too late #obviously I am reaching to apply this book to today but I think it could make certain people reexamine their mindset #daphne du maurier #rule britannia #quote #this book is making me think so much about imperialism and occupation and military states and civilian cruelty #through such an interesting lens considering what I know of Daphne du mauriers life up to the point she wrote this #this was her last novel #and it’s so different from her other novels #like this to me is her equivalent of a Connecticut Yankee in king Arthur’s court #except it’s just the ending where everything becomes terrible so fast

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girlscience · 3 months

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the cognitive dissonance of enjoying violent stories vs the awareness of "this is happening to real people right now" is really getting to me lately

#i have always enjoyed and been far more comfortable with a level of violence and gore a lot of people aren't #i still do #but i have seen so many dead people now #it feels wrong or callous or something #and it's not just violence. i enjoy megatron and his story quite a bit #and saw it in a very fantasy light #except real people right now as I type this are crawling through tunnels for scraps of metal the same way he did #how can i enjoy his story when i know it's killing people on earth right now?#how can i enjoy superhero stories where things fall from the sky and explode cities #when people are actively being bombed right now?#and literally nothing is stopping it? the fantasy of a hero isn't real #how can i enjoy hannibal when there are so many people murdering indigenous women in my country?#how can i enjoy the literal torture that hannibal enacts on people and find it fun and silly #when people are actually being stolen and tortured and murdered for other people's fun and sadism in real life #how can i enjoy war and conflict and manipulation and trauma when it's happening to real people Right Now #how can i enjoy fictional violence and yet oppose it irl #how can i enjoy and love fictional war and irl begin to hold a strongly anti-war stance #like I do think it's good I am more aware that these things are real and aren't only fiction #and the knowledge of that and compassion built from these stories #can push me to act and do some kind of good in the world #but I also just feel like shit #and I don't really think there's any way to actually make these cohesive #like I think fantasy is good because it can introduce perspectives and experiences and thoughts you'd never have otherwise #I think it can teach compassion and empathy #but specifically I have enjoyed the violence in fiction itself #not the story Around the violence or the metaphor or moral or whatever #the Actual Violence is fun to me #and I don't know how to hold that and hold the knowledge people are doing truely horrific things to other people right now #that are exactly the same as the violence I enjoyed in a story #i guess it's a separation of fiction and real life... but idk i feel bad and stuck

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suncaptor · 8 months

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no there really was something about riding back from the volta region to accra in africa and like having hundreds of white-winged flying bugs flocking to the headlights of the van and shedding wings across the ground in the flickering dark and reflective rain. by the time we got back to accra the rain had lifted and there's a part up the hill where you can see the city sitting on rocks in front of you and how it stretches. it was beautiful.

#incoherents #i dont think i could feel a thing then or now i am always so scared. i spent that night. it was easter. at the hospital.#i landed badly paragliding and was hypothermic in high high heat. i was my wound cleaned i was scared I'd die #for no reason. i was having ocd issues. kept imagine getting infected. it was kind of nonsense #but i couldn't get any creams and i had to shower #(had to shower so methodically. in sevens. make sure no part of me could have covid covid covid)#i must have seemed insane. i didnt eat anything but a tiny bit of jollof and my friend helped me get some plantain chips but the night #market was nearly closed #its funny. how me now me then me at 19 how everything is a different lense #I'm through so much glass #i can't imagine being who i was a year ago I'm all hollowed out I'm dead I'm not real #there's a perspective shift. there's things if only i could not drown and be real that i could make so much out of #i want to exist in this world so badly. i want to feel it. i want to be real. but there's too much horror and grief and it consumes me #the beat of their wings was so empty whit #the best psychiatrist i ever had was the boss of the guy i saw that week cause i was scaring myself. but who referred me to him got me so #scared bc he thought i was manic and i freaked out and started crying and asked everyone including half a dozen professionals #if they thought i was because i was scared I'd end up paralysed (again. ocd.)#they took me to the hospital because they were afraid #god i was so much better then yet #and the surgeon guy was not appropriate enough but he liked me. he knew i wasn't a risk. it was all so useless. but you know.#another person to say I'm not manic. god i was so neurotic. well.#okay I'm rambling. it's just. nothing feels real nothing ever feels real #i want to exist have i really not existed this whole time?#i feel like there's so much i missed i grieve everything but not as much as i.#i got better on this med but maybe it wasnt the med. i was . talking to her more again wrapped up #and #hhhhh #nothing is real. i love her

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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 5 months

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sonic the hedgehog tumblr dashboard simulator

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💠 extremegayr Follow

got held up in traffic today cause some noob couldnt drive the fucking loop-de-loop. lmfao fucking coward

15 notes

🎛 420zone Follow

ok but robotnik's kind of a dilf tho

🌫 wispgender Follow

he's literally a war criminal can we NOT do this tumblr

🎛 420zone Follow

📰 its-no-use Follow

@wispgender dont u literally simp for nominatus like who is one to talk

🌫 wispgender Follow

NOMINATUS ISN'T REAL????

🛜 viralsensation-destructorofworlds Follow

that you know of

🌫 wispgender Follow

what

10,672 notes

🔷 sonicinthewild

43,834 notes

☣️ lineinthesand Follow

saw sonic the hedgehog irl once. he showed up at my village, released 30 feral pickys in the town hall, paid the ice cream vendor roughly a thousand rings for a single chili dog, told me not to waste my life worrying about the little things, and then caused a fucking tornado

🧿 spiralhillspindash Follow

ok and??? you're not special

☣️ lineinthesand Follow

THIS WAS A PERSONAL POST GO AWAAAAY

173 notes

🌠 chaoinspace2electricboogaloo

sucks that sticks the badger hates all technology you know she would do NUMBERS on here

568 notes

☸️ r0u3e Follow

being an islander be like "are those the kind of eggsplosions i should worry about or the kind of eggsplosions that are gonna repair our crops, fix the economy, and bring my dead grandma back to life"

🌁 eggpawnkindathicctho Follow

being a continenter be like "oh great what primordial diety has risen from the grave to block traffic and fight a 15yo today"

🥭 chao-official

being a chao be like "chao chao chao chao chao"

🌁 eggpawnkindathicctho Follow

you said it my mans

579,056 notes

🏵 sprinkles-the-chao Follow

hold on if sonic the hedgehog is jewish then how is he santa claus

🤖 e123-omegaverse Follow

dont question him

85,628 notes

☣️ sparkygoboom Follow

hey guys real question are human/mobian relationships problematic

💠 extremegayr Follow

op is about to start the anthro church schism of the fifteenth year all over again

🛞 mobotropolis Follow

ok but in all seriousness did your mom never teach you that part of history

🎢 marxiobros Follow

someone doesn't know about the united federations public school system

🛞 mobotropolis Follow

what the fuck is a public school

⏭️ drowningmusic Follow

⚄ paradoxprism Follow

are we gonna talk about op's chaos radiation fetish

💠 extremegayr Follow

OP'S WHAT NOW

🏞 mobiancrossing Follow

ok but am i the only one who thinks that the public school system would be a good idea if handled right? like i know it's traditional to learn from your parents and then experience the world on our own from the ages of 7-13 but like combining all our knowledge and learning together doesnt seem like a bad idea

☠️ fabian-vane-number-1-hater Follow

bitch that's what the internet is for

🌅 s0leanna-apple-barrell

yeah where else am i gonna learn to make infinite chaos emeralds

❇️ freesurge Follow

"infinite chaos emeralds" that's called the phantom ruby

🏳️‍🌈 rainbowwispforgayrights Follow

everybody on this site has brain damage

❇️ freesurge Follow

yeah. from the radiation

603,573 notes

🐸 froggysfriend

caught this today

🏝 digginginthegroundfortubers

if anything happens to this blog i genuinely hope eggman blows us all up as punishment

950,420 notes

🐊 teamchaotixofficial

Hey guys! Sorry to do this again but rent's a little tight this month :( If we've ever solved a case for you guys or made you guys smile, please consider sending a ko-fi our way! we just need a few rings to get through the month <3

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🖼 give-the-koco-a-gun Follow

do we ever talk about that time the sky turned blood-red and shadow the hedgehog's demon dad descended from on high to murder us all and we only barely survived

❤️‍🔥 songoose4evr Follow

shadow fixed it it's fine

🎮 n0cturnity

yeah that was like twelve apocalypses ago move on

🎆 robotniksbignaturals Follow

kinda wanted to bang black doom tbh

🖼 give-the-koco-a-gun Follow

THE DEVIL???? FROM THE BIBLE????

🎆 robotniksbignaturals Follow

yeah. move over gayboy i'm boutta be shadow's new dad

856,301 notes

🗑️ berrybarry

starting a conspiracy that time hasnt moved since 2006

🗑️ berrybarry

why the fuck was i shadowbanned after posting this

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🤡 clownfinite Follow

tfw you finally save up enough rings for ice cream and you go outside and get hit by swatbot pieces and the rings just go fuckin everywhere

587 notes

🔷 sonicinthewild

34,452 notes

🌌 h-o-l-o-l-y-n-x

so did y'all see that genesis wave or was it just me

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🆙 planetsgiantcrack Follow

the virgin tweeter "if you use a bad word in the same tweet as the word 'cream' you get obliterated off the site" vs this chad site of "i want to put knuckles back in a microwave"

💟 presidentyaoi Follow

BACK????

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⬜️ chao-and-wisps-4-ever-so-cute-2 Follow

ok posting my first fanart to this site pls be nice! <3

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🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

why does tails look like he's always about to say "it fucken WIMDY"

🦊 miles-prower-official

Hello, @emeraldfwuitgummy!

I actually quote that image on a constant basis! Sonic thinks it's hilarious every time. He's quite the fan of memes, and it's nice to get a laugh out of him!

Formally,

Dr. Miles "Tails" Prower, PHD

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

SO WAS ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME THAT TAILS WAS ON THIS FUCKING SITE OR--

🏅 iwishhumanswerereal Follow

do. do you not know he created tailblr. dude it's in the name lmao

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

WHAT

🍭 milfwisp Follow

didn't eggman invent this site???

🪫 veganswatbot

THE EGG ABANDONED SCRAMBLR IN ITS TIME OF NEED AND THE FOX RAISED US FROM THE ASHES. YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT HIM

🦊 miles-prower-official

Hello, @milfwisp and @veganswatbot!

Very good question! This site was Eggman's until I ate his bones. Thank you for engaging! :D

Formally,

Dr. Miles "Tails" Prower, PHD

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

YOU

WHAT

🌭 sonicsays

what's not clicking

#long post /#sonic the hedgehog #sonicverse #sth #sonicedit #mine #unreality /#unreality #long post #<< trying different tags here cause ppl are telling me the first attempt wasnt working

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comradecowplant · 27 days

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oh shut up.

democrats & republicans don't "fucking hate each other" they are comrades in class war against evvvvvvery body else, i want to read this fanfiction where joe "if there was no israel the u.s. would have to create an israel" biden has made "gritted teeth diplomatic cracks" regarding israel because it simple has never happened, there is no ever-elusive illogical magic mystery why the U.S. always supports Israel-- money (AIPAC donos, arms sales, etc.) & key strategic location for U.S. geopolitical interests, zero rocket science or brain surgery required--, MENA is a place of human beings not your orientalist fatalist "🤷‍♂️ i guess middle easterners are just meant to die, it's how da cookie just crumbles 🤷‍♂️" bullshit, and please, even adrian zenz dropped the Xinjiang concentration camps story years ago.

#the cpc is not a flawless government but there is simply no actual factual evidence for fucking genocide #and it's especially evil imo to bring it up in comparison to a REAL genocide of muslims happening #one that OP is basically shrugging off as 'gosh darn the world is a bummer it's just Always Been This Way & there are no good ideas :('#god i cant wait until this site officially implodes. go back to blogging about plants ya geriatric gen x hack #i am in a MOOD today and as soon as i think i've posted through it i see another post to make me even more mad #i hate when olds go 'this has gone on longer than u silly youngs understand' & it's like okay well sounds like youre projecting your #own shame about your own ignorance & complacency onto the newest generation who cares more than you 🤷‍♂️#if you 'saw the same things in the 1980s' okay then why didnt you do anything then or in the decades since? YOU are part of the problem #YOU saw rachel corrie get bulldozed while we were in grade school or not born yet and some how WE'RE incorrect for demanding action? k

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bats-and-the-birds · 15 days

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In situations and headcanons and such where Bruce doesn't tell the justice league his identity, I feel like one of the most often cited reasons is that they'd then immediately connect all of his many waves of increasingly smaller vigilantes back to him.

But I'd like to think it doesn't happen like that.

Like, at some point, Nightwing has been on the team for years, and somehow, no one that didn't already know him as Robin has connected him back to Batman, but of course both Bruce and Dick think they know, because they have to, right?

But then Bruce's identity gets revealed while Dick's off world or something, but he gets filled in, so he assumes that his identity is blown too, right? Of course, once you know Batman is Bruce Wayne, it'd be easy to put together that Dick Grayson is Nightwing.

So then Bruce and Dick have to rush to the watchtower from some sort of Wayne family event one day, but there's no real need to put on their costumes yet, because the league already knows their identities.

Until...

Green Lantern, watching a young man that he's only ever seen through gossip magazines fiddle around in the watchtower: Hey, Bru-Batman, I know we found out your identity and all, but do you really think it's a good idea to bring your children into this? I mean, what if he gets hurt?

Dick, incredulous: You... you do know who I am, right?

GL: It's hard to not know who you are. I saw you on a magazine cover just the other day.

-long pause-

Dick: Bruce, when you used to complain that you work with idiots, I thought you were exaggerating.

-general sounds of outrage from the JL-

#batman #justice league #justice league headcanon #batman headcanon #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #batfamily #comics #dc comics #green lantern #then Dick does a backflip or something and they put it together #Bruce never lets GL live this down

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vanessagillings · 29 days

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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic. Some people who know me in real life still don’t. And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM. I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe? I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag. Even so, how could autism describe me? I was a good student. I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class. I can make eye contact…if I must. And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right? Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it. I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them: sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak. It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once.

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance. It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day. But it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities.

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person. This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs. No two people on the spectrum present in the same way. And that’s a good thing! No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic. I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway. I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day. More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing. My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

#autism acceptance day #actually autistic

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isaacthedruid · 9 months

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(spoilers for the Barbie movie)

As a trans-masc non-binary person, I saw myself in Allan. I’m a boy but not a Ken, I'm Ken-like but not quite.

Allan’s role of being awkward, unsure and a little out of his element but still trying to help the Barbies through the chaos and events caused by the Kens, is how I feel as a trans-masc person who is still trying to advocate for women and discuss the issues they face.

I don't identify as a woman anymore but I still grew up as a girl, I lived as a young woman for 14 years, and people continue to be misogynistic towards me when they think I am one-- customers will talk to my male coworkers instead of me, when I’m the person with the answers

I wasn’t expecting to see myself, in terms of gender, in the character often described as Ken’s boyfriend, though it is said in a more playful, joking way rather than any attempt at representation. I’m gay and this version of Allan is definitely queer as well. Yet, that’s a separate story which has already been written, here’s an excellent article about that. [LINK]

Allan isn’t Ken, and he isn’t Barbie either. Allan is simply Allan, an idea with both masc and femme traits. He doesn’t fit into anything specific, he just is. Allan can wear Ken’s clothes but also Barbie’s pink jumpsuit-- but when he's not doing that undercover mission with the Barbies, we only ever see him wearing his own clothes. A set of clothes worn only by him, that iconic striped outfit that is signature to the real Allan doll.

Additionally, notice the horse patch on the front of his shirt, he never changed his clothes unlike the rest of the Kens when they discovered the patriarchy and a new version of masculinity, a toxic and destructive one. Allan only added something to his clothes to “fit in” or act as if he did, but he hated what the Kens did to Barbieland. He also wasn't brainwashed and never acted upon those destructive abilities that were laid out for him. He could've just joined the Kens and broke stuff and drank copious amounts of "brewskis" but he didn't.

Allan is different and it's constantly stated, "there's only one Allan" in this world of Kens (and Barbies).

I will never be Ken nor will I ever be a Barbie again, I’m not happy in either. I’ve tried both, neither is my style (or title). I wear Ken’s clothes as well as Barbie’s, and sometimes I wear Allan’s.

But, I like Allan’s clothes best, they fit me well.

#barbie movie spoilers #barbie movie #barbie #barbie movie allan #allan barbie #transgender #queer #non binary #trans masc

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stormhearty · 3 months

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Pushed to the Edge

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Trigger: angst, cheating, suicide, death

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You were the official seer of Night Court for nearly 500 years. the Inner Circle had always listened to you and your visions; however, when the Archeron sisters came and Elain started to show her powers, your family started to shift their attention to her visions. When you try to voice your warnings about the death-lord’s resurrection, everyone gave you the cold shoulder, ignoring your prophesies — this included your mate.

Note: no hate to Azriel or Elain, it just helped with the plot. and Also, I know it's completely unreasonable for Azriel to not have the Truth-Teller be with him at all times, just go with it for now. And I am working on “Reach Your Voice” Series, I’m still trying to figure out how to make sure each of our boys spends quality time with the reader.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

“That sounds absolutely absurd… How many times will you try to warn about something that will never happen?”

Your voiced died in your throat as you watched Rhysand look at you with apprehension before focusing on the paperwork in front of him.

You had ran into his office, waking up in cold sweat after another vision of another Death God crawling it’s way back into Prythian. You had tried to forewarn your High Lord for weeks on end ever since you first saw that vision. However, your warnings had been ignored by Rhysand. You knew that it sounded impossible, you knew that, Prythian had just finished a war — one that almost destroyed the world.

After the war with the King of Hybern, Prythian was slowly returning to its normal … well, attempting to fix what was broken by the King. The Night Court was healing, trying to rebuild itself again to its glory, helping other Courts to fix the damages that the war caused. Rhysand had been through an ordeal, losing his life to save Prythian and you knew that your High Lord was still recuperating from that tragedy. You knew that your High Lady was as well, almost losing her mate.

They didn’t need another war to happen when peace had barely returned.

But you also knew there was another reason your High Lord had been ignoring your for forewarning. You looked to the side, one where the rest of the Inner Circle was watching the confrontation. Cassian and Nesta, sitting close to each other, a glass of wine in their hands, whispering to each other, mostly likely about you and your vision. You could barely pick up with your keen Fae hearing on what they were saying.

“Do you think what she’s saying is real? That Koschei is trying to come back?”

“Elain hasn’t seen it though…”

The whisper of the middle Archeron child echoed in your ears as you looked at the Made Fae. She sat next to the window, brown eyes that seemed to sparkle like the sun rested on you before turning over to the male that she was sitting with. Your gaze followed hers to Azriel — your mate— but you can see that he didn’t bother to glance in your direction, only to focus on the delicate female next to him.

It hurt. You watched as the two of them conversed, glancing back in your direction before focusing on each other.

It was no secret, not for you, on Elain’s growing infatuation for the Shadowsinger, and in turn his own growing affections for the middle Archeron child — and in turn, losing his love for you.

You woke up in an empty bed, your mate missing from his side. You tried to talk to Cassian about how his day went, on if he would still train you with the Valkyries if he had time. You tried to converse with Rhysand and Feyre, seeing if they were healing properly after the war, wanting to make sure your High Lord and Lady were safe. You sought after you mate, wanting to spend even a second with him.

But they disregarded you so easily. Especially after they had found out that Elain had similar powers to you, one that was gifted to her by the Cauldron — one that was deemed more powerful than your own.

Your role as the Official Seer of Night Court was granted to you after Helion had sent you as an emissary for Day Court. Helion had found you wandering around Day Court lands. You had been a wandering child, with no real attachment to any Court, abandoned in the streets by your family at the age of five when your seer powers started to come into light. Helion had taken you in when you were ten, helped you hone your powers. Being a seer had been a mystery, no one in your heritage (that you were aware of) was a seer. And it baffled Helion on why such a remarkable gift had been casted aside.

You had stayed with the Night Court, gaining their trust and friendship for five centuries, gaining your own little foothold in their family. You had been a pillar when Rhysand had been trapped Under the Mountain for nearly fifty years. You helped Mor and Armen with the official Night Court Duties, trained with Cassian to ensure you were strong enough to fight when neither he nor Azriel was there.

During your time protecting Valeris from the eyes of Amarantha, your mating bond with the Shadowsinger snapped. It had been difficult at the start, both of you were still struggling with the disappearance of your High Lord, along with the weight of protecting the very city he hidden from view. But during that time, you became each other’s pillar, each other’s comfort in such a dark time. Falling in love with Azriel wasn’t difficult.

But keeping his love, apparently, was the most difficult.

When the Archeron sister’s came into everyone’s lives, it caused a tip in the scales. You loved Feyre, you loved your High Lady. You would do anything in your power to ensure she was safe and well cared for. But for the Cauldron-Made sisters, it was difficult for you to accept them.

They were different. You couldn’t see anything about them, as if the Cauldron had masked them from you powers. It made you terrified of them. Feyre and Rhysand had tried to assure you that the Archeron sisters deemed no threat to the Night Court. And you trusted them — trusted your High Lord and Lady without a blink of an eye. And yes, while their words deemed true, you did not realize that they were a different type of threat. One that would eventually lose your foothold in the Night Court.

You swallowed, your throat parched as you glanced from the sight of your mate and Elain speaking to one another to Rhysand and then to Feyre who had stood next to him. She gave you a worried look, wondering what you were wanting to tell them.

The air was tense, the declaration from your High Lord seeming to echo in your surroundings — he had deemed your vision to be false. And he had never done that before.

“… But…” you whispered, your voice nothing but wind in such a large room, “… I’ve seen it so many times, Rhys. Someone is trying to resurrect him. That they need a piece of something from the Cauldron — -”

“The Cauldron is with Miryam and Drakon… in Creta. There is no way that anyone would be able to use that power again,” Rhysand’s tone was taut, as if trying to drawn a line between the truth and your vision, “Your vision must be wrong, (Y/N). There is no way that Koschei can be resurrected from that lake.”

Another swallow, “But what if it doesn’t have to be the Cauldron itself. It could be something that was Made from the Cauldron.”

Rhysand’s eyes snapped up from his desk, up to you, eyes darkening at the words you were insinuating, “—- What are you trying to say, (Y/N)?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes shifting down to your hands, fiddling with your fingernails — a habit that you’ve had ever since you were a child — one that would leave your hands raw from removing skin, ‘… Nesta and Elain were Made from the Cauldron. If it were to get word to the followers of Koschei, they… they could be in danger. The power that resides in them is the Cauldron… Nesta took something from the Cauldron and did not return it… They could be looking for that.”

It was already bad that you were trying to suggest a return of a Death God, months after a war with Hybern, but it was worse that you were even implying that the sisters were the center of being in danger again.

A dark shadow stood in front of you and you looked up to see Azriel. The golden string that connected the two of you sung, it had been weeks since Azriel went near you, but you knew that his side of the bond was shut, enshroud by shadows, completely shutting you out.

“Az—-” you said his name, as if it was a prayer, hoping he’d be the voice of reason. That he would back up you and your visions. As he always had in the past.

“How can we know that your visions are truth, (Y/N)? There are two Seers in the Night Court now, and yet you are the only one who sees this.”

Your ears rang, a high pitch noise echoing through them as disbelief shook your body. Azriel never distrusted you, never doubted your visions and your forewarnings.

The bond in you ached, as if it was burning you on the inside. Tears lined your eyes as you looked up at your mate, brows furrowing, “…How could you, Azriel?” you muttered, the pain lining your tone, “How can you not trust me?” your voice small.

“Because Elain hasn’t seen it,” was all he had to say.

Hot tears ran your cheeks, as you shakily stepped back from the male that had towered you. You glanced at Cassian and Nesta who looked at you, their eyes inattentive to the pain that you were feeling. You glanced at your High Lord, who looked at you with disinterest. You looked at your High Lady, the only person in the room that seemed to have noticed your pain and anguish, as she took a step towards you way, only to be stopped by Rhysand, his hand around her wrist.

“… So, just because the Cauldron-Made Seer hasn’t seen it, doesn’t mean that it is going to happen?” you asked, your question in the air for everyone to think, “… Just because I wasn’t a Seer Made by the Cauldron, that my visions and my words are not real? That I am a lesser of a Seer than her?”

“(Y/N)—-” Feyre, the voice of reason, called our your name.

You took a step back again, head shaking at them, “I’ve worked my life off for the Night Court. Ensuring that your city is safe, making sure that any danger would never step past the wards that you have put up. I have never hidden anything from any of you. I used my visions and my powers for all of you. And yet…” your voice shook at the end, not believing anything that was happening in front of you, “You disregard me… the moment a better Seer shows up. One that is Cauldron-Made… one that you…” eyes shifting to Azriel, “Deems more suitable for you.

“I’ve seen it. Not only in my visions but here with you all. You have decided to all turn a blind eye to it, decided not to tell me about it. Three sisters for three brothers, isn’t it, Azriel?”

Azriel’s form stiffed in front of you — he did not think that you would have heard that.

You were done, you were tired. You were tired of the lies and the deceit from whom you thought were family.

Feyre’s brows furrowed as she looked at you and then her elder sisters before the back of Azriel. Rhysand stood up as well, standing next to his High Lady at your declaration.

“… What are you talking about, (Y/N)?” Feyre asked, watching your form shake.

“Don’t you lie to me…” you muttered, glaring at your High Lady, “Don’t you dare lie that you have not seen it. Don’t you dare tell me that you have not noticed that Azriel and Elain have been together all this time. That you have turned a blind eye that a mated male would be infatuated, would fall in love with someone else that was not his Cauldron-bound mate. Don’t you dare lie to me you have not all seen it, and have ignored it and not tell me about it.

“You also have all disregarded me and my visions, ever since Elain started to show her own powers. You have all deemed, even without you telling me, that my powers are not worthy enough. That you all would listen to her cryptic visions rather than my own.”

Your words were rushed, you were hyperventilating to the point that your visions swam, but you shook your head, focusing on the scene unfolding — Feyre’s surprised look, Nesta and Cassian staring wide-eye at Elain before glancing at the Shadowsinger in front of you and your High Lord gripping the edge of the table, his violet eyes clearing as if he was in a trance, as if his mind has been cleared and he realized what he has done and what was unfolding with his family.

“No, (Y/N), that’s not what we meant…” he tried to reason, try to gain back your trust in the found family you had with them.

You scrunched your face, shaking your head as you looked at your High Lord before back at your mate, “…That’s what you have meant for the months you have been ignoring my forewarnings. Been ignoring me. Because Elain’s powers are better than mine, you have casted me aside…” Another step back, glancing at the grand door behind you before you glanced back at the family who had lost you, to the mate that had broken your entire being, “You had decided, to your own conscious, to fall in love with someone else, who is bound to someone else, just because you deemed that the Cauldron was wrong. I don’t understand what I have done to you, Azriel… when I have spent nearly five-hundred years with you, fifty years with you as your mate. And you, knowing Elain for a mere five minutes, throwing all that away…”

Azriel looked at you, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes staring you down. He watched as tears continued to flood down your cheeks, your form shaking even further. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t just stand here and be the object that they throw away.

So, you ran, ran out of that room, your name echoing behind you as your dress swirled behind you. You climbed up the spiraling stairs to your shared room with Azriel, throwing up the strongest ward you can muster behind you and around you. You couldn’t handle it.

You couldn’t handle the echo of the bond in your chest, you couldn’t handle the empty stare of your mated looking at you. You couldn’t handle the thought that you were so easily replaceable. A sob escaped your lips as you rummaged through Azriel’s drawer of weapons, pulling out the one weapon that he never is without — Truth-Teller. Dark tendrils of shadow gripped your wrist as you looked around you, Azriel’s shadows surrounding you.

That was where his shadows went — they had always disappeared when he was around Elain, yet they were here with you.

Frantic knocks startled you as you grasped the weapon close to your chest, your head whipping around towards the door. You heard them — Feyre’s panicked voice, Rhysand’s apologizes, Cassian yelling your name. But you didn’t hear that one voice that you had loved — you knew Azriel wasn’t there.

That had pushed you. Gripping the weapon, you moved to the bathroom, the shadows following your every movement. As you kneeled down on the marble floor, you felt the tug of the shadows against your hand, trying to will the weapon out of your grip — attempting you to stop at a take of your life.

You had always loved the shadows that surrounded Azriel, both physically and metaphorically speaking. They had always comforted you, protected you, always had been there for both of you when times were tough. But this was one of the times that you didn’t want them protecting you, comforting you.

“Please..” you begged at them. Whether or not they would listen or sprint off to their master, they backed off, though a few tendrils stayed behind, slithering around your wrist, holding Truth-Teller, as if a reminder not to do it. But you had made your mind — you couldn’t stay and be pushed to the side. Not anymore.

And with a last breath impaled yourself with your mate’s beloved knife, the very knife he had handed Elain during the war, was the last thing you remembered. As your body fell against the marbled floor, your soul leaving your body, you felt the tendrils of shadow frantically skim over your body, as if to try to find a piece of life still clinging onto you. Eyes looked and watched as the ward was broken and your High Lord and Lady skidding towards your body as your soul left for the skies above, the cool feeling of shadow never leaving your body.

A gasp escaped your lips, the dull ache on your chest making you rub at it.

“— - What…” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as if not used for a century.

“That Shadowsinger did not know what he had decided to let go, huh…” A voice, one so dark and so familiar echoing.

You knew that voice, that voice that haunted you in your visions for weeks — the same voice that you tried to warn your family about. Eyes opening, you were surrounded by the dark, the voice of the Death-God echoing around you.

“I should have died…” you voiced to no-one.

A laugh echoed around you, “You did, (Y/N), but you forget that I am a Death-God… And I can resurrect anyone I wish. Now, that your family has abandoned you, why don’t you join me. Show them what happens when a Seer of your capacity has been cast aside. I should have had you when that original family of yours stranded you, but that damn High Lord of Day found you first. Anyway… come child…”

You laid there, in the darkness, before you shakily reach out a hand, before spiny fingers grasped onto yours and pulled you out of that darkness.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar angst #a court of thorns and roses #( .one shot : pushed to the edge )

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rthko · 10 months

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I recently saw a post with Fran Lebowitz saying, "a book isn't supposed to be a mirror; it's supposed to be a door," and it made me think about the state of "representation" discourse online. I thought back to an anon I once received from someone who claims to get "secondhand embarrassment" from "drag queens, leather daddies, and kinksters with pup hoods acting like they represent all gays." Many thought my response was too harsh, that I ought to show more sympathy to people who do not "relate" to nor feel "represented" by these modes of queer being. Blame it on online fandom, blame it on heteronormativity, but we are too concerned with "relatability." It is the sort of "relatability" advertising executives concern themselves with, or "relatability" of people who treat their online presence as a "brand." It is a notion I find alien to queer art and culture.

I have never done drag, nor do I consider myself a part of the leather community beyond befriending others who do and owning some gear. I do not "relate" to these expressions in any vulgar, literal sense, but they are still deeply resonant. And how many of these individuals truly "relate" to the images they peform? Drag artists and leatherfolk are purveyors of fantasy. In their daily lives, they might not be bikers, rockstars, pop divas, or mythical beasts, but they reinvent themselves through metaphors and performances. These theatrical performances are no more absurd than the quotidian performances expected by cis straight society. Larry Mitchell writes, “The faggots act out their fantasies without believing them to be real. The men act out their fantasies always proclaiming that they are real."

This could explain why literal attempts at relatability are often less resonant than campy extravogant fantasies. I once wrote a rant about how Taylor Swift is not a gay icon, and an anon smugly told me, "Taylor makes music for everyone and not just gays." Yes, I suppose she does make music for "everyone," in the same way that the Midwestern weather reporter voice is the universal accent of the English speaking world. But diva worship was never about "relating;" rather, it's about survival through the evocation of patron saints of strength and glamor. Most celebrity or mass media attempts at "relatability" are at best clueless or at worst insulting. I would much rather participate in a campy fantasy, which is in its own right more "real." Susan Sontag describes camp as the "farthest extension, in sensibility, of the metaphor of life as theater.”

I am not telling anyone to stop pushing for the recognition of diverse stories. This is crucial! But the recognition of queer stories should also come with an understanding of queer modes of resonance. When has John Waters ever produced something "relatable?" Who cares? His work resonates, in fact, more than a lot of "safe" gay media that should be all accounts be more "relatable." The "average" listener would not necessarily relate to SOPHIE. They may find her work otherwordly or downright unsettling. But she did not produce music for the "average" listener, at least not before the rest of the musical landscape dragged to catch up with her. Adam Zmith writes: "Inside SOPHIE’s words, performances and final act is the queer utopia of always grasping, always dreaming of a freer life." We are living the wildest dreams of our former, closeted selves, but we are still always grasping, never quite satiated. Queer art is not just autobiographical but aspirational. Let art be a door.

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lokis-army-77 · 7 months

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A New Purchase

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.6k

When you come home only to discover your boyfriend has bought something completely ridiculous.

Warning: 18+. p in v, riding.

Here's the little thing we talked about the other day @munson-blurbs @lofaewrites @chrissymjstan @hellfire--cult (it isn't as good as I think it could be but oh well)

Masterlist

Eddie was almost giddy with excitement when he saw the Facebook marketplace posting. The aluminum body was a bit rusted and the inside fabric was also questionably stained but hey it was a decoration for three hundred dollars and local pickup, hell yes, he was buying it.

The only thing Eddie didn’t realize was that it wasn’t a small decoration. No… it was real and he had no clue where he was going to store it until Halloween. Then came the brilliant idea of testing it out. He only wanted to know what it would be like to lie there, how comfortable would it be?

That’s how you came to find Eddie lying in a casket in the middle of your living room.

Walking through the door you stop suddenly, as the small walkway between the wall and the back of the couch is blocked. Eddie is lying there, eyes closed and hands crossed over his chest.

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?”

He can’t help the grin that paints his once stoic features. He squints open his eyes as he begins to laugh. “I’m testing out my new purchase. Do you like it?”

You sigh and whip your hand over your face, shaking your head. “What on Earth possessed you to buy a casket? Wait, hang on, where did you buy a casket?”

He sits up, resting an arm on the side, and goes into his explanation. “You are never gonna believe it, fucking Facebook Marketplace. It was so cheap and to be honest I thought it was a fake one that would have been maybe a foot or two tall but nope. Imagine my surprise when I get to this guy's house and he rolls this baby out. He slaps the side panel for emphasis. He even threw in the church trucks for free so it would be really easy to move around.”

You just chuckle and shake your head. “Okay, then why did you buy it?”

“I figured we could use it to decorate for Halloween and also because when I saw it was actually real I just had to test it out. Take it for a test drive before I actually do kick the bucket.” He said it so seriously like it was the most obvious reason in the world.

“Eddie, really?”

“Oh, come on babe, like you’ve never thought about laying down in one of these bad boys.”

“Contrary to what you might believe, no, no I haven't.”

Eddie reaches out then, making a child-like gesture of opening and closing his hand. You walk forward and curl your fingers around his. “Switch places with me, see how it feels.”

“No, I’m not getting in there.” You laugh.

“Why not? Do you really want the first time you experience this to be when you’re dead? You won’t even know if it's uncomfortable or not.” He pulls you forward even more.

“Eddie no-”

“Come on… If you won’t switch then get in with me.”

You give in, sighing playfully as you bend down and crawl into the cramped casket. Eddie tries his best to shift over so you have space, but the area inside is only so big and definitely was never intended for two.

You both are laughing when your knee suddenly loses its steadiness, atop the thin, almost non-existent padding layered over the metal bottom, and slides out from under you and you fall on top of Eddie’s chest with an “oomph”. You look up and you catch a glint in his eye as they darken just a bit.

It’s a familiar look, one that he has given you so many times no matter the situation or surroundings. A look that he knows you will give into.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You plead with him, knowing where this will end.

Eddie looks at you, eyebrows raised in faux confusion. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way, Sweetheart.”

You slap his chest playfully. “Eddie you are giving me your ‘I want sex’ eyes and I am not going to, not here.”

“Baby,” He wines. “Come on. It’ll be sexy. We could even role-play as vampires.”

“No-”

“Please.” Eddie reaches his hand to cup your cheek, pleading softly as he brings his face closer to yours. You are trying to fight it but you know you can’t and Eddie knows too. As soon as he looked at you with those sultry brown eyes, you were plyant in his grasp.

When his lips press into yours, you sigh, relaxing into him. Your fingers curl into his shirt and you inch up, caging his hips between your thighs. It hasn’t even been thirty seconds from when the kiss started and you can already feel him hardening under you.

Pulling away, you mumble into him, lips barely touching. “Does it really turn you on thinking of fucking here?”

Eddie nods and surges forward to reconnect your mouths. His tongue flits past your lips and finds its way inside, caressing your own.

You're barely-there resolve crumbles as you begin to roll your hips into him. You can feel his hard length as you grind, his breath catches in his throat.

"Fuck baby," he mumbles against your lips. "Need to feel you around me."

There is a heat coursing through you, clouding your mind as your fingers begin to unbutton his pants.

Eddie is eager, his hips press up into your hands, pushing you to free him faster. The blue cotton of his boxers has turned a deeper color in a small spot where the head of his cock rests, the precum there being soaked up by the cloth.

You slide a nail up his covered shaft and a great shiver overtakes his body under you. "Don't tease me- please."

A chuckle bubbles out of you. "But that's the fun part."

Eddie just whimpers in response.

You begin pushing your fingers past the elastic waistband. You pull the fabric down and bring your other hand up to help situate both his pants and boxers down to his mid-thigh.

His cock springs forward and you can't help the feeling of absolute lust coursing through your veins. You need him inside you, now.

You silently thank your past self for deciding to wear a dress today. In your need, you don't think you would be able to wrangle yourself out of a pair of pants.

Firmly you take Eddie's cock into your hand. He hisses at the new pressure you ar editing him.

"Fuck baby, just like that." His hips jump into your touch.

"Gonna let me fuck myself on you? Gonna let me take what I want?"

Eddie only nods. Words have left him as he stares into your sultry gaze.

You begin to stroke him, up and down, spreading the stickiness leaking from his tip with your thumb.

Then, you begin to scoot up his body. Hovering over him. Eddie watches in awe as you take him up in one hand and move your panties over with the other. A slow moan releases itself from your as you begin to sink down on him.

Eddie's cock was perfect. It always felt so good to be wearied around him, his head pushing deeper into you.

Both of your breathing is labored. You try to keep yourself calm, you don't want to rush into riding him, you want to take your time making each of you feel wonderful. Eddie. On the other hand, is trying not to combust as he lays there and watches.

The way your dress is hiked up around your beautifully, thick thighs, how his cock disappears into you, surrounded by a curly thatch of hair.

God he loved you. It was the only way to explain why his heart was beating out his chest.

You groan as you feel him entering you. There is a slight burn as you stretch around him. Slowly, you begin to move your hips. Eddie starts to make choked noises and his hands reach out to grab you. His fingers grip your hips, helping you grind into him. Your own hands grasp at his covered stomach.

There was an ache building as you moved. Low in the depth of your stomach and it began to grow. The more you fucked yourself onto Eddie the more the ache was felt. IT had you clenching down around him. You cunt milking his cock of everything he could give you.

Eddie’s hands caress your body. When his fingertips touch skin, it's like an electric shock goes through you.

“Eddie-” You moan.

“I know, love.” He mummers.

“Can feel you so deep.” You grind harder, shivering as your clit rubs against his pubic bone. “Need more.”

“Yeah? Take it, baby, take anything you want.”

You catch Eddie’s hands and guide them up under your dress and to your breasts.

He hums in approval as he pushes your bra down and begins to play with your nipples, pinching and pulling them slightly.

Your head lolls to the side, hair falling down around you. It’s taking so much energy for you to keep moving. Your legs are beginning to tire out, there is a sting in your muscles. Your knees are screaming at you as they dig into the not-so-comfortable foam at the bottom of the casket.

Body becoming rigid, you cry out, moaning Eddie’s name loudly into the living room. Your fingers cling to him as your body caves into him. You can no longer keep moving so Eddie begins bucking his hips into yours, helping you to ride out this high and bring him to his own.

Eddie lets you fall almost completely on top of him once he’s finished. His arms wrap around you, your breaths in sync with the other.

As you rest your forehead on Eddie’s chest, you feel the tiny movement of him jerking. He’s trying not to laugh.

You crane your neck to look up at him. “What?”

He shakes his head.

“Eddie.”

“Nothing, just that we fucked in a casket.” His smile was as wide as could be,

You let your head fall and you laugh into his chest. “Don’t get used to it.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader

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