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rwprincess · 3 years

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Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

#john bender #john bender x reader #benderxreader #fem!reader #the breakfast club #breakfast club #reader-insert #80s fanfic

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annethepancake · 3 years

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Sherlock rant

I recently rewatched BBC Sherlock for Rupert Graves, and aside from the lack of Lestrade appreciation I have a lot of problems with this series. Here are my thoughts:

1. It was all a blur

My second first impression of the show: I don't remember anything but the characters. And some characters I just blatantly forgot, like Mary. And I loved Mary on my second watch! I really forgot that at one point John actually got married and I don't even remember when I watched the show for the first time. I can still recall most of HIMYM's events and I hated that series.

2. It’s overall not a detective/crime show

Watching Sherlock for the second time, I mostly turned off my brain and just let it play in the background because (1) there's hardly anything for me to solve with the characters, most clues are taken by Sherlock off-screen anyway (especially after season 2), (2) they focus way too much on the quirks of the characters that make it almost like a sitcom that got dragged on for way too long. A crime/detective show shouldn't allow me to turn off my brain.

3. The characters just kinda fall flat

Exploring the depth of human emotions is not a bad approach to a modernized version of anything, I’m not trying to pretend I’m better than someone who gets sentimental over fictional character (if you know my blog at all, you know I am not), but at least write good characters. Sherlock is hardly a multi-faceted person; in fact, he’s kinda like the Wattpad teen fic main character sometimes. He physically fights off some terrorists with a machete to save the damsel in distress? He gets high off his tits but still got everything right all the time? John is just kinda there for most of the cases. Jim is a poorly written antagonist. Irene is a lesbian but gets the hot for our main character, surprise surprise. The only interesting characters to me are the ones who act like normal people: Molly, Greg and Mary. They are the multi-faceted characters, ones who I can actually relate to without feeling inferior to them in any way. Write characters like them, stop trying to be smart about it and stop writing Wattpad fanfictions for Sir Conan Doyle’s original works.

I get that they try to make Sherlock more like a human with emotions, making him quirky and arrogant, then make him quirky and more likable. It’s hardly a convincing character development though. He’s given over-powered deduction skills, so edgy, so high and mighty all the time. When he is finally written as vulnerable, turns out he has plans for that too. I would love to see him get it wrong once and maybe get humbled by that mistake, but getting Mary shot and killed is hardly even his fault, he is only doing his job. And killing off Mary is overall a bad idea anyway.

4. They treated the fandom like shit

I was absolutely disgusted at the start of season 3 when the showrunners just straight up shat on their fans. I wasn't there with the fandom during the wait between season 2 and 3, but I believe it was a pretty long wait (2 years, I could barely wait 2 years for my comfort series, and they have like 10 episodes per season), and they were presented with the first actual mystery of the series: How did Sherlock survive the fall? After years of waiting and having fun theorizing, they were met with a mockumentary about them, starring the most hated character of the protagonist and the fans. Those are the people who actually cared about the show for god's sake. The fact that the showrunners treated fans like crap and there's still an active fandom for the show appalled me.

Now not only The Empty Hearse bugs me, but the entire show does as well.

Allow me to digress.

Doki Doki Literature Club is a great example of audience engagement done right (Sorry for using this example I’m not actually that invested in the other franchises). After the success of the first game, the story provoked so many fans into solving the mysteries of the characters, some of them went really, really far. And that’s because of the actual mysteries that the development team took effort to plant into the plot. There is actual pay-off for painstakingly following the clues; as far as I know, only two (2!) people in the world have come close to solving the mystery of the first game (or they actually did). The game developers value their fans and their intelligence enough to have planted those clues where they did, and it’s a genuine exchange between the fans and the creators. Now even though you haven’t actually played the game, when you hear of the name and you’re only kinda familiar with gaming (like me), you’ll probably know what it is. What started as a mere open-source game by an indie developer became a sensation which left millions of fans begging for more.

Looking back at Sherlock, there are tons of logical flaws for a self-proclaimed crime series, virtually no clues for the audience to solve crimes along with their favorite detective, and when there was actually a mystery (Sherlock jumped off the building), they plainly showed him alive and well minutes later. Do we really need to see things spelled on screen to know what’s going on? Are we supposed to accept that Sherlock Holmes is an all-knowing future-predicting genius now too? Not a great sign of respecting the audience there.

So far, the only thing left that’s interesting about this series is the characters’ dynamic. Which brings me to the next criticism I have for the show.

5. The plague that infested mainstream media

Why is there still an active fandom? Queerbaiting and targeted marketing.

Community marketing is proven to be one of the best marketing methods there is, if not the best, to lengthen the lifespan of a product or service. The way they do that for shows and films and video games is usually by planting seeds of possible lores and history inside the content. Look at Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, they are franchises that ran for multiple years with a ton of history and world building that provokes fans’ imagination.

Sherlock - well, Sherlock has sexually ambiguous men.

Sherlock has a formula for success. It was an adaptation of the most iconic detective novel in the world, funded by one of the biggest TV networks in the UK and possibly the world (don’t quote me on this). Making this series means you can appeal to such a wide group of audience even before airing. Adding in the quirky smart men who live together, you’ve basically guaranteed a prime-time show with millions of loyal fans all over the world.

Fans are not stupid, and queer people don't just find queerness everywhere they go. They know a gay subtext when they see one. Sherlock came back from the literal death for John, pretty gay if you ask me.

This show is very much not just about some guys being dudes solving crimes, they have relationship that’s deeper than friendship, and definitely not platonic. They deliberately wrote a sexually ambiguous Sherlock Holmes from the get-go - literally from the very first episode, then capitalized off of the targeted demographic, never a pay-off for their anticipation. Martin Freeman said in interviews that he could recognize Sherlock fans, them being generally women from 16 - 25. No shit Sherlock, this show targets them and capitalizes off of them, being quirky and gay as hell, of course the fanbase is generally 16 - 25 and female.

Sherlock queerbaited the fandom for years for the sake of marketing and there’s never a pay-off, nor was there any recognition to the community, and to add to all that bigotry, queercoding pretty much all of the villains? Why was a show aired in the 2010′s allowed to do this? Why did Mark Gatiss, an openly gay man, a writer of the show, allow this to happen? Why are millions of fans all over the world allowing all this to go on?!

6. Conclusion

Now I haven’t read the books yet, so I’m not at all qualified to criticize the adaptation quality of the TV series; I’m just talking about the TV series on its own. Despite my criticism, I think the first two seasons did quite okay. There are quite a few nice cases there, I like The Blind Banker and The Hound of Baskerville. They did those well because the focus was on the cases themselves, and the connection between John and Sherlock was only in the background. I, like many other fans, like to figure things out on my own, to read between the lines, and to not have things spelled out for me. With the next seasons bombarded with Sherlock and John bonding it seriously felt like mere fan service for me and even though I wasn’t there when the show was on, I still felt like I was robbed and my interest in the show was abused.

Sherlock is undoubtedly super influential in pop culture even now. It has to have done something right to be in that spot (capitalizing off loyal fans?). I’m not writing this rant to change someone’s mind about the series, by all means, I’m still gonna love the hell out of Gavin Lestrade, and absolutely lose my mind over Mary Watson. So do take my words with a grain of salt, I’m just disappointed that one of the most influential shows there is is just short of my expectations.

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #rant #criticism

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

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Chapter Eleven: Fantasy

Table of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1,435

RATING: M

MASTERLIST

After a bit of obligatory protesting, Spencer gave in and you were now on the sixth round of strip poker.

Turns out the prospect of losing clothes was an excellent distraction because you were now almost tied with the young doctor, him winning three and you, two.

“Getting into dangerous ground, here,” you teased, rearranging the cards in your hand.

Socks had been the first to go and Spencer had just been forced to surrender his cardigan. The rules were simple, you’d play until one of you gave up. . . . or ran out of clothes.

“Actually, what you’ve devised as a so-called ‘distraction’ could function as motivation to win. If anything, I'm more determined.”

“Says the guy missing both socks,” and you tossed in three chocolates. “Flip ‘em, Doctor.”

He had a flush. Shit. That beat your straight. The only clothing items you still had were your pants, shirt, bra, and underwear. It was big decision time.

“You don’t have to—“

“—I’m the one that wanted to play. I don’t back down.”

You probably shouldn’t have kept drinking. It was getting harder to determine a good idea from a bad one. You unbuttoned your jeans and tossed them across the room toward the laundry basket, Spencer looking pointedly away. This felt like a good one.

“If you admit defeat, we can stop.” It would have sounded cocky if his expression weren’t so soft. He wasn’t challenging you, he was giving you an out.

An out that you were not about to take.

“In your dreams!” you slurred, taking another swig of bourbon, handing the bottle to Spencer.

He dealt the cards and you played another hand. The poker gods decided to bless you with a full house.

Spencer had two pair.

“Take it off!” you squealed, laughing so hard that you fell backward on the floor.

Surprisingly, he didn’t protest, just giggled goofily and stood up (rather sloppily, intoxication slowly becoming more apparent).

“Now, the cricktical—critical decision: pants or shirt?”

It was hilarious seeing him like this, all timidity and apprehension gone. Just open and vulnerable and having a great time.

“Shirt!” you called up to him from the floor. He looked so tall above you.

“Pants it is!” he declared, trying to pull them down, but falling forward and landing next to you, jeans pooling around his ankles.

There was an instant of eye-contact, both of you terrified that a line had been crossed — you were inches away with your pants off. Then you suppressed a laugh, sending the two of you into a fit of giggles that hurt your sides.

“Ow! Oh god it hurts!” you said through laughter, clutching your stomach.

But Spencer, ever the hero, snapped to attention, looking at you seriously.

“Are you in pain?”

His response only made you laugh harder. After you got your wits back to you, an idea popped into your head.

“Ooh! It’s my turn to pick a game!”

“I don’t know . . . I really think we should go to s—“

“You got to pick two games! It’s my turn.”

“Technically, it was your idea to play strip poker.”

Ignoring him you said, “We’re gonna play truth or dare!”

“How do you play?”

“What?!” you sat up and stared at him, agog. Distracted for a moment by the way he had his arms under his head, displaying the slight bicep there, you quickly recuperated. “It’s a super common game. You never played it like when you were in high school?”

He shook his head. Actually, that made sense.

“Ok, here’s how it works,” and you explained the rules, with some difficulty. He definitely would have picked it up quicker without the effects that the booze was having on his mind. He had trouble focusing and needed you to repeat yourself every so often. He clearly didn’t drink very frequently.

“So I ask you truth or dare?”

“Yes. Um. Dare!”

“I have to come up with one? Can I google?”

“No!”

“Fine, um. I dare you to . . . lick your elbow?”

“Spencer, that's so lame. They’ve gotta be saucy! I’ll go first, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he said, a little too quickly.

“Boring. Ok. Um. What’s your biggest sexual fantasy?” The alcohol was definitely getting to you.

“What?!”

His shocked expression was so adorable you chortled.

“You have to answer! That’s the rules.”

“I don’t know! I don’t really think about . . . that all that much.”

“Sex?”

“Yeah,” he blushed and looked away.

A cute, smart, tall guy who loves the things you do, keeps you safe, and isn’t always thinking about sex.

“But . . .” he murmured softly.

Your mind raced. Was he going to tell you? No, he wouldn’t. Would he?

“I guess I like the idea of . . . being in control?”

The moment it was said out loud, he yelped and grabbed a pillow, shoving it over his face and whimpering, embarrassed.

Meanwhile, horrible, wonderful thoughts popped up in your head and your gaze wandered down towards his boxers, eyeing the sizeable bump there. Imagining Spencer on top of you, controlling you, long fingers wrapping around your neck, or maybe sliding—

Stop! you told yourself, forcing your eyes shut. You’re drunk and so is he.

Spencer mumbled from under the pillow.

“I can’t hear you.”

He threw off the pillow, a grumpy look on his face.

“I said, truth or dare!”

You smiled, glad that he was getting into the game, despite the embarrassment.

“I’ll follow your lead. Truth. But you have to make it just as risky or more than my question!”

“I can’t ask you something like that! It’s unprofessional.”

It was ironic and you both knew it. Here you were, laying on the floor with him, pants off, drunk off your asses, and talking about sexual fantasies. It couldn’t get any more unprofessional.

Oh, yes it could.

Shut up!

“Ask me!!”

“Fine! Um. What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

“Woah! I was not expecting that!”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, no! I’m impressed actually. It’s just a difficult question.”

“Too many times to choose from?”

“Actually, not enough. The partner’s I’ve had weren’t exactly . . . generous. Sex for me has always been about other people. Not about what I want.”

“So you’ve never . . . ?”

“Not with someone. By myself, sure, no problem. But no one’s really been able to get me to that point.” Or close to it.

You looked at him and were surprised to find him looking at you. The eye-contact was so intense, it went right through you, sending a chill through your body. A good chill.

“Are you cold?”

His voice was rough and deeper than normal, sending another spark through you. Reminding you how he’d talked about wanting to be in control. . .

“A little.”

The temperature had to be close to freezing. And your landlord wasn’t keen on spending a bunch of money on heat, not when the tenants could just ‘buy more blankets’.

“I think we should go to sleep.”

Sparing a glance at the clock, you were surprised to find that it was already 12:47.

“I think you’re right.” But when you tried to stand, you stumbled, tripping over Spencer’s legs and landing on him, straddling his waist, your hands on his chest, your core right above his. . . .

The sudden weight on him must have startled him because his hands were on your hips, holding you steady.

For a moment you stayed still, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him, the alcohol giving you a warm buzzy feeling. You weren’t sure but there was the faint feeling of something pressing up between your legs. Something hard.

Spencer cleared his throat and shifted under you, guiding you off of him as gently as possible, his strong hands lifting up your hips.

You tried not to dwell on the feeling.

“We could just sleep out here?” you offered. The floor in the living room was rather comfortable and there were enough pillows and blankets nearby to warm up.

“Sure, that sounds good.”

So you made up a little nest and laid down next to him. This time, neither of you hesitated to snuggle up together.

“Does anyone call you Spence?”

“One person does. Though, not as much lately. Why?”

“I’m gonna call you Spence. But only when I feel like it.”

“Okay,” he said softly, sweetly.

You fell asleep almost instantly due to the mix of inebriation and the comforting feeling of Spencer pressed up against you.

Too busy dreaming about what life would be like if you and Spencer were sleeping together in an entirely different sense, you didn’t hear the sound of someone sneaking in through the open window.

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13 @yourmisosoup @queenofthebees003 @pinkdiamond1016 @eu-solidao @perverted-guardian-angel @boiled-onionrings @rainsong01

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fandom #criminal minds #truth or dare #matthew gray gubler #fluff #smut #angst

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years

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Bare Oneself and One’s Soul (Bi!Spencer Reid x Male!Reader)

Summary: Sex workers and strippers are being killed in Portland, Maine. The BAU team investigates the fourth and attempts to build a profile. But with part of the puzzle still missing, the reader contemplates offering to revisit a previous profession of theirs - the oldest in the business - to draw out the unsub.

AN: My first fic for Criminal Minds! I started watching the show about two weeks ago and I cannot stop. I’m on series 4 so no spoilers for me please! I would like to open requests soon, still wanna write more diverse readers hence why this is my first entry into this fandom.

Thank you @imagining-in-the-margins for inspiring me with your Bi The Way fic and answering my queries! You’re the bee’s knees!

Feedback and requests to be tagged in specific fics are welcome

Word count: 6.9k words

Content Warnings: Descriptions of violence, descriptions of dead bodies, homophobia, threats of outing, stripping, lap dances (mild NSFW), Gone Girl spoilers. Please let me know if I have missed anything!

Your name: submit What is this?

“Dancing, at its best, is independence and intimacy in balance.” ― Donna Goddard, The Love of Devotion

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was already hard enough with this job. But someone targeting sex workers and the like, that was going to make things harder. The victims were anonymous in the eyes of the general public, subhuman, not worthy of being reported to warn others in their profession. Furthermore, the associates of the victims were not likely to talk to law enforcement.

Emily, Derek and Y/N returned to the temporary base of operations, having already faced this reality with the limited responses garnered from very few witnesses.

Only the recycling guy who found the latest body was willing and that was a stretch on the definition.

In the police station, Hotch was sifting through the security tapes he had access to, JJ at his side trying to spot the unsub. Spencer was building up a geographical profile and Rossi was out speaking to the family of the latest victim.

Y/N helped Morgan hand out the coffees they’d picked up, dropping a hefty amount of sugar packets and a disposable stirrer on the desk beside where Spencer was working. He stared up at the map and tried to clear his mind in case an epiphany decided to pass by.

The fourth victim was exactly like the three previous. The body was found down the back alley of a local nightclub, this one called Red Effort, and it was sat up daintily in the corner made of the building and a dumpster. A plastic bag was over the head. An expensive silk tie for a gag left in the mouth. Evidence of another used to tie the wrists together but that tie was gone. Other than that, the body was stripped naked.

“The bag wasn’t used in the suffocation; it was put on after death. The unsub couldn’t look at the victim after he’d killed him,” Y/N theorised, “But the nudity has a statement of sadism.”

Derek pointed to the photograph of the fourth victim’s neck, “Bruises around his neck show that strangulation killed him. Some kind of rope, possibly a belt about inch and a half wide, just like the others. But the tie is what gets me. Why leave one in the mouth but not the other around the hands? And why not leave the belt?”

“Hermès is an expensive brand,” JJ said, “But if it was cost the unsub was worried about, they wouldn’t leave the other behind. It must be something sentimental about that tie but not the other items used.”

Moving on, Spencer’s geographical profile highlighted the clubs’ connections. Utopia, Pulse Point, Move, and now Red Effort had tacks in them, standing out over the map. His “colouring in” highlighted clearly the MO of the killer they were after: it was someone local stalking the clubs over the last two weeks.

“The previous attacks show that they are only in the city and the unsub doesn’t hit the same club twice - at least so far. The next target is likely to be one of these three clubs in the radius: Focus, Potential, or Encore.”

“Anything in the CCTV?” Rossi asked.

JJ pinched the bridge of her nose, “Nothing so far from Garcia.”

“Well, I think we’re ready to present the profile to your officers, so if you could get everyone together, we can begin.”

When the group of officers had their notebooks at the ready, Hotch began:

“We’re looking for a man in his mid-thirties to late forties. When he’s in these clubs, he will seem confident and charming, even if he is a lone man amidst multiple women.”

Then Prentiss took over, “He is voyeuristic, hence why he is targeting strip clubs instead of approaching a prostitute. He likes to watch his victims perform, see them with other men before he makes his move.

“Outside of the club, he is less confident,” said Y/N, “He may present himself as heterosexual, probably married which is why he can’t target these men during the day. Going into the city likely means that he lives in the suburbs.”

Morgan continued, “His sexuality is warped; violence is what produces sexual release in his mind. The strangulation method, using a belt, shows that he doesn’t have enough strength themselves to take out their victims. He has to get their complete vulnerability before he can strike.”

Spencer turned away from his map to point to the evidence board, “He is targeting young men, strippers. Some of his victims were prostitutes. They were all brunettes, slim build, all performed on a stage in a nightclub the night they died, and witnesses have confirmed that they gave dances to men and women.”

“This unsub is escalating,” Rossi concluded, “The first attack was five days apart; the last was only two days. These are vulnerable people who need our help. Let’s catch this guy before he hurts any more people.”

A few hours later and Y/N was paired up with Emily at Focus. Drinking water in opaque glasses, they moved subtly to the music with their eyes steady across the club’s topography. The debrief played over and over in Y/N’s mind.

Although, his mind did stray to the fact that it was odd being in one of these clubs again. Being on the other end too, as a “customer”. Not disconcerting, just odd.

“Leather jacket, three o’clock.”

Over the rim of his glass, Y/N followed Emily’s direction and found their suspect. He was looking at a woman who was giddily on the receiving end of a lap dance.

No.

He was looking at the dancer. The man who was sporting some body paint that blended well with his tiger print shorts.

“You got eyes on him?” Emily spoke under her breath.

“I do.”

The suspect passed the dancer gradually, sauntering whilst making steady eye contact. Then his head snapped in the other direction and he walked right out of the club, still unhurried. The dancer’s stare lingered after him before he finished up his routine, flirtatiously thanked the ladies for their generous tip. He walked in the direction the suspect had gone.

Without speaking, Emily and Y/N were next to leave after the suspect. Their guns were drawn once the cool air of the night hit them through the back exit. A streetlamp’s light threw the two men’s identities into silhouettes. Emily and Y/N approached with as much stealth as the bare alleyway would give them before Emily made the call.

The suspect reached out to the dancer and Emily shouted, “FBI! Hands where I can see ‘em!”

The suspect looked more annoyed than surprised or scared of the guns pointed at him, “Hey, woah, what’s going on?”

“Hands up!” Y/N repeated sternly.

Y/N got the suspect in handcuffs not seconds after complying, Emily moving over to the dancer to check that he was alright.

“Derek?” The suspect screwed his features up, straining to turn and look Y/N in the eye.

Y/N cut him off, “Shut up.”

But still, as the suspect was dragged over to the cop car parked at the kerb, he remarked, “You’ve grown into your big boy pants.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Rossi unlinked his fingers and pressed them into the case file, pushing the photograph across the table to where Fabian O’Conner was sitting. The Encore club’s new manager had kept up his act of being more irked with the officers than intimidated. He was sloppy in his body language, especially after only five hours sleep in a cell and another hour in that uncomfortable chair, not taking any of Rossi’s questions seriously. All Fabian talked about was his club and how shit things were for him in the last fortnight.

“I’ve had three cancellations alone this week!”

Behind the glass, Emily looked to Y/N, “Why’d he call you Derek?”

Y/N was about to lie through his teeth when Hotch’s mobile trilled on the desk.

“Hotchner… OK… alright, we’ll be on the scene right away.” Hotch hung up and looked grimly at his team, “There’s been another murder, at Potential.”

JJ pointed at Fabian who was swinging on the chair’s back legs, “Well, it wasn’t him, so either he has an accomplice or we got something wrong in the profile that meant the unsub slipped past unnoticed.”

“Prentiss, JJ, Morgan, let’s get to the scene,” Hotch instructed, “Reid, Y/N, stay here, keep us updated on what Rossi gets out of this guy.”

As he watched his colleagues exit the building, Y/N wiped his cheek with the back of his left hand, “I’m gonna make more coffee, Spencer, you want any?”

“Please,” Spencer replied, looking over his shoulder with that white people smile he’d nailed over the years. Tossing a thumb’s up in his direction, Y/N headed off to get them their drinks.

“Why would he kill at the risk of losing business himself?” Reid asked him when he returned, sliding the paper cups onto the desk.

“That’s what doesn’t make sense to me,” said Y/N, “Fabian’s all about business. Plus, he’s the straightest guy I’ve ever met, don’t think he’d be within fifty miles of comfortable leaving these bodies naked.”

Before Spencer could ask how Y/N would know something like that, his phone rang out and he placed it on speaker phone.

“Garcia, whatcha got?”

“An update on that evidence of yours yesterday,” She spoke, “The tie is a very specific kind. Limited edition at Hermès, bought recently online. The paper trail leads us to a Mr Andrew Lowenthal who lives not a mile away from the city. Prentiss and Morgan went to go check out his home.”

“Brilliant, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, boy genius.”

She hung up before Spencer could but Spencer was already off on a tangent: “Limited collection, they’d stand out to the owner, so maybe they’re left as a message for someone.”

“But who?” Y/N asked the obvious.

He tapped his pen against the post mortem report that hid the corpse’s photographs. Something about those ties just stick in Y/N’s head. They kept reminding him of the ex-boyfriend in Gone Girl, his aversion for all the ties Amy bought him. The same ties Amy used to ruin his life, and that same ex-boyfriend couldn’t say anything at all about it.

Unfortunately, Rossi couldn’t get much more out of Fabian and he was let go. The alibi he’d given was checked out and found to be watertight. Apparently he was just looking in his competitor’s club for a dancer who had left Encore a week ago.

The investigation proved to be more fruitful outside of the station however when, a few hours later, JJ appeared with her notebook, “This girl Emily and I interviewed yesterday, she won’t tell me her real name, but she was there today at Focus. Says she saw a woman this time, a woman walking with Daniel into the alleyway behind the club.”

Hotch’s phone was heard entering the building before he was, buzzing in his palm before he promptly answered once in the room, “Emily, you’re on speaker.”

“So Andrew Lowenthal was home. Get this: he’s gay.”

“What?”

“We caught him packing his things to move out. Andrew came out to his wife Marcie recently and she reacted badly, threw a fit, accused him of cheating. Andrew says he’s been meeting with a man, a stripper, he won’t name him but he says they’ve been working through understanding his sexuality. Who can say if he’s really cheating or not, but this all came out a fortnight ago.”

Morgan continued, “Right when the killings started. Marcie won’t ask for a divorce, she’s threatened to out him though. She’s been staying out late as well on the nights the murders happened.”

Hotch looked at the case file in front of him, up at the geographical profile up on the board.

“Alright, thank you. Come back to the station.”

“The reason the unsub got away is because we thought the unsub was a man,” Y/N sighed as Hotch hung up.

Hotch was quick on the contradiction, “We can’t rule out Andrew yet. All the witnesses so far have said the victims were seen a man.”

“Yes, while they were at the club, but they were killed after work in the alley, not in the private rooms they rented!” Spencer pointed out the security tracking the movements of the victims next to his map, “After she, the unsub, had confirmed that these men would dance and, in her mind, sleep with other men!”

“He’s right,” Y/N supported, “It’s how the unsub would verify that her next victims were involved in homosexual activities. I should have thought of that sooner.”

Garcia was up on the phone immediately, searching for Marcie Lowenthal amidst the security footage. The genius that she was, it only took her a minute to find the new suspect at every single crime scene. The clips appeared on the laptop screen and played, this time with a box around the woman’s face to bring her out against the rest of the image.

“Marcie Lowenthal,” JJ pointed to her image on the screen. Garcia was correct, she had been right there, at the corner of each photo printed off from the other clubs

JJ carried on as the conversation between Daniel and Marcie unfolded onscreen, “Around the middle of the night, approaches Daniel, arranges to meet him outside in the alley once he’s finished work.”

“And we thought she was just too nervous to instigate a dance with them,” Derek bit his lip hard, “So what do we do now? She’s not at work, she’s in the air until she kills again. She’s been escalating, so she’ll kill again tonight.”

It was then that Y/N decided to jump in with the idea he had been brewing since his second cup of coffee:

“I could go undercover in one of the clubs.”

Hotch stared for a moment at Y/N, clearly caught off guard by the outburst, before speaking in that collected drone of his, “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Each club is hit once, Encore is one of two potential spots left, the unsub is escalating so they will be at one tonight. It’s “Boys in the Buff’ at Encore tonight, so likelihood of them being there is high compared to Potential’s ‘Dollar a Drink’ gimmick, OK? It’s just a suggestion. If we have another plan, I’m all ears.”

“You fit the MO, but how would you even blend in?” Spencer asked.

The next bit came out a lot easier than when Y/N had expected.

“When I was here during college, I used to be a stripper at Encore, before I worked in the FBI. ‘Derek’ was my pseudonym. Fabian was a bouncer at Encore before he became manager.”

The wave of expressions changing throughout the room were significant: jaws slacking; a little lift in an eyebrow; most notably, silence.

Rossi walked into the room, completely ignorant to the tone set by Y/N’s revelation, “Marcie Lowenthal’s next move is at Encore. She’s building up to Focus where her husband has been going. Garcia tracked his car’s GPS to that club five times in the last month.”

“So, what you’re saying is that Encore is the next step and then Focus,” Y/N fidgeted with his pen.

Hotch turned back at Y/N and in his usual calm and collected tone he spoke, “Tell us what you need for this.”

“I’ll need an hour to warm up, a slot on stage, and a guy to dance with then take to a private room. And some hot pants.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Encore was empty, the stage free from dancers, the bar barren.

It was always weird to look at a club when it was empty and all the normal lights were on. Even more so that it had been redecorated in Y/N’s hiatus from Portland, highlighting how surreal it was to be back.

Y/N climbed up onto the stage and surveyed the empty seats. Then he began to warm himself up. A grunt escaped him every now and again, fighting against his stiff joints. Thankfully, the BAU was another job that kept fitness levels high as a necessity.

Humming his chosen song, Y/N began to test his flexibility against the pole. Muscle memory brought back his techniques one after the other. He repeated one of his old routines in broken segments, saving the transitions for last before he was ready to properly rehearse it. With a sigh, he took off his button up, leaving only the tight spandex that wrapped his crotch in a deep cherry red.

“Nice package.”

Mimi was watching from the side of the stage, her heels dangling by the straps on the tips of two fingers. A fond smile played on her lips, one that grew into a toothy grin filled with genuine glee as she approached him.

“Hey!” Y/N finally retorted, though there was that same playfulness in his voice that meant he didn’t take the comment on his junk to heart.

“Hello,” Mimi gave him a warm embrace, “What are you doing back here, you idiot?”

Y/N settled for the excuse of needing a few extra bucks and figured it would be nice to join in the gender equality of male strippers. Mimi didn’t seem convinced.

“You choose that now? When all those guys in the other clubs are getting murdered?”

“I’ll be sure not to follow anyone the alley. Are you doing ok?”

“All good.”

“Really? I’ve seen you at some of the crime scenes, talking with the FBI.”

“I’m safe, especially with my girls.”

“Speaking of, it’s ladies’ night, what are you doing here?”

“Just picking up something I forgot,” and she poked him in the centre of his chest, “Good luck tonight.”

Y/N rubbed that spot as she left the club, “Thanks.”

Not much else happened between Y/N finishing up his rehearsal and the club opening. The conversations in the dressing room was soon drowned out by the din of eager customers waiting.

To say that Y/N was more nervous about dancing in front of his co-workers – his actual co-workers, not the other dancers – than performing in front of a serial killer would be an understatement. He had gone to the toilet three times in the last ten minutes. And that was saying something; the men’s loos were beyond disgusting.

On the steps up, he could see Emily was at the bar with JJ. They looked normal enough. Two gals on a night out to a strip club. A quick scan found Derek near the door with one of the bouncers. Hotch and Rossi were hidden in the security room, and the other agents at their aid were outside with civvies over protective gear. Everyone was watching as the announcer introduced him as “Derek” for his walk across the stage. Whoops and whistles followed him as he preened for the women in the seats down below.

Then he found Spencer. For once, he was dressed like he was from Las Vegas. Loud colours splashed across his shirt, clashing with the strobe lights. But he definitely stood out as one man amongst tens of women.

And thus began behaving “normally”. Y/N’s head space allowed him to move with ease throughout the groups of women to make it towards Spencer, who had already locked eyes on him.

His hand was shaking a little as he touched Spencer’s shoulder going past. It was a repeat of an action he’d seen on one of the tapes: keeping eye contact with a potential wallet he could dance for before pretending to drop interest.

The look between them was another matter. Eye contact was something that made the both of Y/N and Spencer nervous, but not when it was with each other. That comfort that was oft shared across the table at a meeting still comforted Y/N as his hand fell from Spencer and back to his side. The warmth of it spread through his body and gave new life to his confidence. He was safe. His team were all here. He was going to be fine. He was going to be brilliant.

The first up on the stage to perform was a man, taller and buffer than Y/N, dressed as a fireman. He swept a woman from the audience off her chair in the middle of the routine.

The second was a trio of oiled up men, weaving in and out the front row between exaggerated erotic dance moves. It was a bit of a laugh, goofy with the hen do at the front egging them on.

And now it was his turn.

“Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and then see what we find?”

Y/N took his time stepping up to the pole, using the sultry slow beat of the music to his best advantage. Knowing most of the club had their eyes on him was horrendous and enthralling simultaneously. The next four minutes were crucial for attracting the unsub.

He performed a reverse grab to face his audience dead on. Hung gracefully upside down, still moving around the pole.

The murmurs of awe were appreciated but not what the unsub was looking for.

Time to up the ante.

Dismounting the pole, Y/N dragged a chair into the centre of the walkway. He pretended to survey everyone at the front of the stage before landing on Spencer. There, he knelt forward and held out his hand. As soon as his grip reached Spencer’s wrist, Y/N pulled him up and onto the chair.

In position, he ignored all the women screaming in the crowds, ignored the fetishization at their expense. He focused on Spencer. And that awful shirt.

He kept an inch between them for now, but Spencer wasn’t tense as he had imagined. No, Spencer was lounging back, and basking in the performance. The smile on his face, it was daring Y/N to move closer.

Spreading his legs to stand between them, Y/N touched him first. He could feel the padding of Spencer’s bulletproof vest beneath his shirt’s soft fabric. At the ends of those lovely arms (the ones often hidden beneath those cardigans) Spencer’s hands twitched.

Y/N backed up against him like he had done with the pole. A cinematic parallel the women definitely appreciated. Bringing those long legs back together, Y/N made himself comfortable on his lap, a fingertip facing the threat of being cut as it dragged along Spencer’s jaw. That prickle of stubble sparked against him. Their faces so close that his lips so close to brushing over Spencer’s, barely any space for the crooning of the possessive lyrics to reach between them. Straddling Spencer gave Y/N even more confidence. He continued to tease Spencer, taking in the smell of the sweat from the light’s heat and his skin’s flush, bolded in bright pink. His lips at his throat, they dragged across the swell of his Adam’s apple that quaked beneath him as Spencer swallowed.

They heard a whistle from the crowds that was almost definitely from JJ, spurring on the crowd to react louder. But over their roars, Y/N heard a gasp fly from Spencer. His eyes instinctively drifted down to look at Spencer’s open mouth, down further at where he was sat. Even if Y/N couldn’t feel everything, the trousers were doing nothing to hide how Spencer was feeling.

Bills were flying onto the stage floor. Y/N continued to play his part, arching his body to ripple against Spencer’s. But Spencer caught his hip, his bottom lip now bitten as he let out a groan, low enough to not be heard over the music’s closing bars. But it was clear that his reaction sparked something in the audience. Y/N leant back to survey his handiwork, twirling a loose lock of Spencer’s hair around his finger in the space between them. Then his hand drew away and left that hair in his face before climbing off him and walking off the stage with a blackout - bar one pink spot left on Spencer.

The second he was off stage, Y/N turned around and watched from the wings. Spencer rose from the chair and took a little bow. He bowed again much to the pleasure of the crowd. As he walked down the steps, Y/N could see that he was very clearly aroused.

Y/N made his way out as soon as the audience’s attention was on the stage. He knew the unsub would still be watching Spencer, now stood at the bar and sipping from a glass. It was hard not to feel the sting of a serial killer’s stare as he approached Spencer with a coy smile.

“Hey.”

Turning to face him, Spencer finished his drink before speaking, “Hello, Derek.”

“Hope you enjoyed yourself up there.”

“I did.” And he leant against the bar leisurely, his hand pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, “Any chance of another round? Without the crowd this time.”

Plucking the money free with one hand, Y/N beckoned with the other, “Right this way, sir.”

Both men could see the unsub watching them in the reflection of the ceiling, following them until they filtered through the beaded curtains. Spencer went into the private room first. Y/N closed the door, trapping them in a room of mirrors and flooded pink light over a disco ball - music only muted slightly on the tiny speakers. The epitome of sleaze.

“The unsub followed us here,” Y/N dropped his act and the dollar bills onto the couch arm, falling into one half of the seat.

After a moment, Spencer sat down beside him. The cuffs of his trousers hitched up, revealing the Reid Special that was mismatching socks. He fiddled with his fingers for a moment.

“Uh, what happened out there…”

Spencer struggled to find the words so Y/N jumped in, “Don’t even worry about it. You’re not the first guy to pop a boner when I’m dancing.”

Even with that reassurance, Spencer was tenacious in explaining himself, “I want you to know I wasn’t creeping on you, and that I was focused on the situation at hand. It’s just, when an attractive man is mostly undressed and dancing like that right in front of me -” he paused to look at Y/N for the first time since they’d entered the private room “- Well, that was the most natural response.”

“I get it. It’s all good.”

Spencer, the germaphobe, perching on a couch that was definitely not up to any kind of sanitary standard, wearing that horrendous gaudy shirt, decided to strike up conversation.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Become a stripper.”

“Kept me fit during college and the tips were good.”

“Then why’d you quit?”

“I wanted to be an agent more than I wanted money.”

Eventually the wordless drone of EDM faded and Shook Me All Night Long began to beat across the room. Y/N jumped right up onto his feet, his hands open and out for Spencer to take, “Come on, up. No way to pass the time like dancing. And I’m not talking the kind from onstage!”

Spencer’s frown was hilariously contradictory, “We are tracking a serial killer, who likely has you for her next target.”

“I know, but we’re in a private room, and we’ve got another fifteen minutes at least to pass. We can’t do anything else, so up!”

“Y/N, I don’t dance. You know that.”

Sighing, Y/N’s head lolled back then rolled around to look Spencer dead in the eye, “Think logically. You need to leave this room, looking like you’ve just gotten the lap dance of your life, all hot and bothered. Either you get up and dance, or I’m gonna have to get in your lap again.”

Spencer blinked, “I know you think that’s a threat, but it’s really not.”

That caught Y/N off guard, and again when Spencer stood up and began a very awkward, very out of time two-step. Y/N let Spencer’s words go to focus on getting him more pumped.

“There we go! Let your body do all the talking.”

“My body is telling me to sit down.”

“Well… Ignore it then. It’s just us!”

Now, when his dances were coordinated like the one he had performed on stage, Y/N was rather good. Dancing outside of the stripping profession however was not his forte. One might even say he was worse than Spencer in this regard. Somehow the random arm movements alongside the bouncing on the balls of his feet were classified as “dancing”.

Spencer couldn’t laugh; his efforts, once he matched the energy, were no better. His curly hair jumping just a little delayed, that one lock that Y/N had pulled onstage still separate, he tried the headbanging like Y/N suggested. It was somewhat terrible, but not completely.

It was midway through the second song that the men fully allowed themselves to enjoy this silly moment in the sea of seriousness.

Only when Locked out of Heaven faded into more EDM did they stop for breath. They went halves on the couch and soaked up the temporary respite.

“Can’t imagine if it was Hotch in here instead of you,” Y/N panted. Spencer let out a little wheeze at the notion as he continued, “Not to undermine the importance of the job but I was glad it was you I was going undercover with. And I think you’re quite attractive too.”

It only took a fraction of a second for Spencer to understand what Y/N was referring to at the end. With a surge of confidence, he replied, “Only quite?”

“No offence to that exploding rainbow of a shirt, but I prefer you in your usual button-up and tie.”

They shared so much in that moment. Smiles, breath, honesty, the couch, endorphins. It went beyond the eye contact across the conference room’s table.

In a spike of nerves, Spencer reverted back to a constant in his life: facts.

“You know, dancing is meant to improve problem solving skills and reduces cortisol – a stress hormone – in the body. Furthermore, Dr Lovatt proved that dancing helps with social bonding. The synchrony involved in dancing to a beat along with other people is a powerful way for humans to connect.”

Y/N propped his head against his hand, arm leaning on the back of the couch as he watched Spencer’s facts unfurl.

“I didn’t know that,” He said quietly, “But it explains why it made me feel better about going back out there.”

“You weren’t nervous though. You weren’t tapping.” And Spencer pointed to Y/N’s hands, still as the rest of him.

Flexing his fingers before relaxing again, Y/N dared to look at Spencer again, “It’s why I said I’m glad I’m undercover with you.”

Spencer held that look, just for a little longer than before, checked his watch, “I guess we should get going if we wanna catch Marcie Lowenthal.”

“I suppose we’ll have to do our jobs,” sighed Y/N, only half joking.

Just before he was about to leave, Spencer was stopped by Y/N, who proceeded to untuck Spencer’s shirt and pull the end of his belt out of the loop.

“Make sure she sees you looking like this.”

Spencer gave him an incongruously polite nod before exiting. Once in view of the unsub, he made a show of adjusting his appearance before going to the bar to get another drink. Y/N took his time before coming out with the stack of bills tucked into his hot pants.

His dancing continued but back to its regularly slutty program. It was an hour with a hen do, six women who were tipsy and very liberal with their dollars. Sometimes Y/N found JJ and Emily while he was blending in, and though he couldn’t smile, and neither could they, he felt that safety net secured. Safer still when he passed them by on his way to the bar where Marcie Lowenthal was nursing a beer in a flower-patterned shirt and black skirt.

She was the one who initiated contact, stroking over Y/N’s arm to get his attention as he passed.

“Hello,” Marcie leant over to speak in his ear, “I enjoyed your dance earlier.”

“Thank you.”

“You versatile?”

“I can be anything you want.” And Y/N touched her waist, “I can make you feel good.”

With a catlike grin, Marcie leant in to whisper, “When do you get off?”

“Doesn’t matter if I do, it’s all about you, darling.” She let out a bark of laughter before Y/N managed to answer her question properly, “I finish in an hour.”

It was then that he realised Marcie was gripping his arm tight, “Meet me outside, in the back alley, in fifteen minutes.”

The team was right; she was escalating, devolving now that she was planning the murder before the night was done.

Y/N kept up the mask of intrigue, though he was cringing into himself underneath. “In here not good enough for you?”

“I like it dirty.”

“Alright then. I’ll see you there.” He winked before heading towards the dressing room.

His palms were a bit sweaty. That soon changed as he stepped outside in just his pants and a button up he’d brought for this very occasion. The alleyway seemed empty, aside from the unsub waiting by the dumpster. But Y/N kept faith that his team was ready and waiting nearby as he approached Marcie who was wrapped up in her leather jacket.

It was when she reached for something in her pocket that the hem lifted and Y/N saw the belt around her waist, hoisting the skirt up over her hips. About one and a half inches wide.

From her jacket pocket, Marcie procured a silk tie, “I like my men seen and not heard.”

“My safe-word is ‘alligator’,” Y/N said before opening his mouth.

Silk never was his favourite form of gag; it was too soft, too soggy once in the mouth. Marcie tied it roughly around the back of his head, causing Y/N to grunt and again when she tugged again with another around his wrists. Then he felt it. The cold tip of a blade pressed against his stomach.

“Turn around,” Marcie spoke through gritted teeth. A glance behind her and Y/N could see the shadows of his fellow agents gaining on them. Complying, he turned around as slowly as possible. The tip of the knife dragged across his skin.

“FBI! Marcie Lowenthal, drop the knife!“

Derek’s booming voice caught Marcie off guard, the knife breaking the skin of Y/N’s lower back.

“Drop it!” Hotch stated with less volume but just as much authority, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Drop the knife and step away from him,” Emily backed up from the other end of the alleyway, taking a step towards them.

Seeing that she was surrounded, Marcie crumbled and dropped the knife. It clinked away somewhere to the right. The team swarmed on her.

“Hands in the air, on your knees!”

The grind of handcuffs snapping around her wrists was the cue. Y/N ripped the gag from his mouth and began untying his hands; he was quick to pass the agents and officers to get on the street. There, he placed the tie in an evidence bag on his way out of the alleyway. Spencer, FBI vest atop his stripy shirt, held out Y/N’s coat for him. He thanked Spencer. He kept his “now I look like a flasher” comment to himself.

Lowenthal did not go quietly, not even as she was forced into a cop car to be driven to the station.

“Straight people are fucking headcases,” Y/N muttered to himself as he ducked around various onlookers.

“The tie,” Emily remarked as she saw the second one being examined, “It was her first anniversary present to Andrew. The others were ones purchased after he found out he was gay.”

“And Andrew couldn’t say anything about her behaviour or else she’d out him,” concluded Y/N.

With a nod, Emily touched his shoulder, “You alright?”

“Yeah, thanks,” and Y/N squeezed her hand before heading over to the club – hopefully for the last time. By the corner of the building, he found Mimi waiting and watching.

She spotted him and spoke quickly, “You take care of yourself.”

She pulled him into a hug. Y/N had enough time to say “you too” before breaking away and joining the team to drive back to the station. Mimi had already vanished from the scene by the time Y/N was looking out the passenger window, driving by the hubbub of Encore.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Thankfully, Y/N was granted the opportunity to change before getting on the jet home – as was Spencer. Both were in their comfort clothing: a hoodie and joggers, and a cardigan paired with slacks respectively. Claiming the couch, Y/N curled up around his pillow and rubbed over the bruise that he could feel growing on his shin. His friends were occupied with their own activities. Everyone was too wired to sleep.

“Get many tips?” Emily joked about fifteen minutes into the flight.

“I did alright, and no wank stains on ‘em either. Makes you rethink your career choices?”

“No stains? That’s how you know you’ve hit the big time.”

“I’m a luxury few can afford.” A pause followed as Y/N thought on the money tucked into his bag’s front pocket, then he addressed the cabin, “Y’all better not think any less of me because I used to strip.”

“Of course not,” JJ spoke up immediately, and a wave of agreement swept through the cabin.

“We’d never judge you for that,” Rossi added.

“Good,” Y/N stood up in the middle of the aisle, “Feel free to judge me for keeping these though.”

And he dropped his joggers to reveal a pair of hot pink hot pants with “BABY SLUT” in sparkly letters on his rear – just visible below the hem of his black FBI hoodie.

Instantly JJ and Derek exploded into splutters, Derek fumbling with his phone to take a photo. Emily was well on her way to laughter as she gawped and grinned. Spencer was hiding behind his book, his eyes peeking over the top. They were crinkled at the corners so Y/N could tell he was smiling. Even Rossi and Hotch had the tiniest of smirks that lit up their eyes with mirth.

“Look at you, Hot Stuff!” Derek cheered.

“Think this is a better uniform than the vest? Alright,” Y/N held a hand up to Hotch who had either opened his mouth to speak or had just forgotten to control his jaw, “I’m putting them away.”

Just like that, he pulled up his jogging bottoms again and fell back onto the couch, as if nothing ever happened. He was pleased as punch that he could joke about this with his co-workers and not at his expense.

A spare glance landed on Spencer, who had dropped his book into his lap and was suddenly very interested in the cuff of his left sleeve. Y/N made no comment but felt very pleased that he’d gotten another response from the doctor.

Sitting in silence, he folded his arms around the pillow, pulling it into his chest. That silence continued until they had landed and were back in the office to drop off the paperwork, ready for revisiting tomorrow. That was when they were alone, when Y/N made his move to speak to Spencer.

“Hey,” he started, drawing Spencer’s attention away from his shoulder bag, “I am sorry about all the touching on this case. I know you don’t like it.”

“Oh, I didn’t mind.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Spencer’s eyes widened and his hand reached out as if to grab them from the air and drag them back, “I, um, I mean I understood that you had- it was necessary for your cover to remain intact; you don’t have to apologise.”

Y/N couldn’t really do anything other than blink. It felt a little formal after their previous interactions, more awkward after the “attractive” comment they had shared.

“Good, no bad blood?”

“Not at all.”

Walking away from the desk when Spencer dragged Y/N’S attention back with a burst of words, “A-And I wanted to say I don’t care that you were a sex worker. In fact, I think you’re brave. Not just on this case; going up to on that stage when you were in college, dancing for all those people, and doing that with a serial killer last night, that took a lot of guts. I really respect that. You, I respect you, Y/N.”

God, that was attractive. That flow of words that were often statistics or fact Spencer had tucked away in that brain of his, something Y/N never wanted to interrupt and it was admiration, understanding, for him.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

Then Y/N remembered something else. The front pocket of his bag was unzipped and he held out the bills to Spencer, “Kept your private room refund stain free.”

The brushing of fingers during the exchange of money filled Y/N with more butterflies than the entire outing in the club.

“Thank you.” Spencer tapped the bills between his thumb and forefinger, looking back to Y/N, “Maybe I could buy you dinner some time, with this stain free money.”

Y/N bit the inside of his cheek to restrain his glee, yet still a comforting smile beamed at Spencer, “I’d like that.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“Real intimacy is a sacred experience. It never exposes its secret trust and belonging to the voyeuristic eye of a neon culture. Real intimacy is of the soul, and the soul is reserved.” ― John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #my writing #wc: 5k+#imagine #r: male

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lightwormlol · 4 years

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ACOFAS REVIEW -INC SPOILERS

4.5 stars.

Okay, so! This was the first book I was able to finish in 2021. I've kinda been in a reading slump, and struggling to get past the 30-50% of books. I think its because I took essentially 3 months off my normal (daily) reading schedule and have been prioritising other things (health, fitness, job applications etc) - I think it's a testament to how addicted I was to this that I finished and consumed this at the rate I did! I recently went back and added some things to my ACOWAR review. To briefly summarise, I feel that, at the time I read it, it kind of gave me what I needed, but it definitely isn't getting a re read - my love for feysand has definitely lessened over time, but honestly i'm not that mad at sarah for this, as I find that whenever I've passed the sexual tension part of relationships in books, I tend to get bored of the domestic bliss. Like, leave that shit for an epilogue and keep it at that? As someone generally averse to relationships, but there is definitely a grace period for how long I can actively be smitten with a couple... before it becomes sickly. Taking all this into account, I honestly was nervous for this book, its release date totally took me by surprise, and I read it on a whim. As a Nessian shipper (I mean we didn't really have a choice after acomaf but to delve into the world of fanfic to keep us going) - this book gave me most of what I wanted and needed from them! I think,(some) kudos to SJM, for not disappointing in their relationship. This was definitely a character > plot driven story. In terms of the plot, I wasn't really invested until around the 38% mark? I'm not sure if I was adjusting to the writing style (lots of dramatic. sentences. that. are. so. abrupt. Nesta Archeron. Death etc) - or if it was bc I hadn't read an SJM book since the novella, which I basically skimmed. I was obviously reading for Nessian, but I didn't really feel intrigued by the wider plot (death gods, the human queens? Given I had lost my previous obsession with the world/ have outgrown 'fandom' culture, that made me actively update my knowledge, I couldn't remember a lot!) I think its clear that SJM excels character driven stories, but I think her worldbuilding and execution is significantly better in the throne of glass franchise. Now, I did say this was a character driven story. This is mostly regarding Nesta, Cassian and Azriel. I loved pretty much any interaction they had! I love a good training montage. Ngl though, I think, unless you possess an ardent love for Nessian, you're not going to be particularly wowed by this, if you've read heir of fire, or even acomaf. I obviously am never going to be able to be objective, because I've loved nessian so much from 2017-now, but I loved the dynamic those two (and three - friendship wise between nes/cass/az). One of the highlights of ACOWAR for me was the snippets of Az, showing tenderness, and opening up to the newer members of the inner circle (and i'm excluding any hint of an Elriel ship because FUCK THAT LOL) For me, the tip with SJM books is: once you outgrow them/the particular mode of narrative style, is to not anticipate anything other than a character driven story, albeit one riddled with smut. I personally am a romance heavy reader, so I'm honestly deconditioned to it at this point, (like, when I see reviewers scandalised I'm like... wow, the amount of trash I have consumed in the last five years loool.) While I disagree with the fact SJM marketed this series as y/a (or maybe it wasn't her per se, but the key booksellers definitely did this for her) - I think its clear enough now she's descended into the adult/borderline erotica genre.(very mild imo). I personally like to adopt a policy of skimming sex scenes when I find the dialogue cringy (most the time it is lets be honest any talking is v second hand embarrassment). Cassian and Nesta were definitely better than Rhys and Feyre post chapter 55 though! I was so glad there weren't a million moments of Cass/Nesta betraying their arousal with their scents, in front of everyone (like feysand, the voyeuristic pda pricks they are). I found the slowburn ish nature of their relationship great, and I actually think if you're a virgo/emotionally stunted reader, you will be happy with their relationship dynamic. It contrasts with the daemati sexual snark of acomaf, but it felt right, and authentic. This book was a journey of personal growth, for Nesta. It is clear SJM loves books about strong women, and maybe thats what makes me love this book so much. I think, out of all the archeron sisters, I love Nesta the most. This is for my Rose Calloway fans, my misunderstood, somewhat cold/left out girls, who are less receptive to being vulnerable. If you're a slowburn fan, it's not Mariana Zapata levels of slowburn, imo it's the perfect combo. Addictive enough that I don't want to put it down, but not so fast moving that I couldn't believe it. I loved the sex without emotion relationship they had!! This is honestly never done in mainstream n/a fantasy, unless its a caricature of a 'slut' that normally rivals the main character, lmao. Even if their inner conflict was p transparent, this gave me everything I needed! I know this is vapid lol but I also love the physical dynamic between the two, they just look so good together, the amount of fanart I'm going to reacquaint myself with after this review!! I adored seeing Nesta grow, (even if towards the end I kind of resented her sudden acceptance into the inner circle, i get SJM loves her and just wanted a fluffy ending, but, as a Nesta like character, it's awkward and stilted on her end to adjust to the inner circle like this - i mean, hugging rhys, really??)

I think, if I had to compare this to any other SJM book, I would say Chaols book (though I obviously preferred this). That being said, I felt less attached to new characters in this book than I was in even Chaols book (and even then ngl I remember nothing?) Obviously I loved what it represented, as a trio of traumatised women. I just, didn't love this the way I loved other inner circle members! I get that they gave Nesta exactly what they needed, a family that doesn't hold the history of her sisters, who she doesn't have to worry about holding preconceived notions of disappointment. I loved this for her! Even then.. I just wasn't attached to either of them. I found their interactions cute - but boring. Towards the end, when their stories/pasts are revealed, I couldn't help but cringe slightly, I can't put my finger on why, but I just didn't buy it. Maybe it's the brit in me but I couldn't be moved by this slightly forced bonding moment.. which was so anticlimactic. My 'aww how cute' tolerance is defo deserved for characters whose tropes I love. Maybe they just didn't fit into this list. Maybe I'm just being a cow here?

Now, let's speak about the real star of the show.... A FUCKING MAGICAL HOUSE FRIEND??? YESSSSSSS. IF YOU ARE AN ILONA ANDREWS INNKEEPERS CHRONICLES FAN, U WILL LOVE! How was the animation of this somehow more touching than all of nesta's other friendships combined? Exactly what I ordered, thank you. This trope somehow touches more than any material bonding!! The cute witch x house dynamic (also maybe howls moving castle vibes?) I loved the trying to reach the target of 10,000 steps (a little Celaena HOF). I think this, heir of fire and acomaf are my favourite SJM books for this reason. Gripes: I definitely had some personal gripes with how other members of the inner circle treated Nesta (rhys i'm looking at you. Disappointed doesn't even cover it.) I inherently take offence to any elain scene, as i'm so over bland characters whose existence is reduced to wanting to fucking plant flowers?? like?? really? To go from moriel to that is such a downgrade, even if I fell out of love with Mor due to the way she snubbed Nesta (you're a 500 year old being and you can't see someone is clearly traumatised?). I adore Az so much, but if it aint polyamorous, I cannot see any pairing with Elain making me happy. (wouldn’t mind gwyn though) I think the whole mating bond that I do not want is a good dynamic, but I really hate that everyone has to be mates in this world. I don't think we were that surprised, but it would've been nice if the somehow, idk, developed a strong bond over time, without it being preordained? Like, even if they do not all actively stay with their mate, given how disproportionate mates are among the general population, what's the likelihood 6 members of the inner circle (including lucien) have mates?

My advice? Read this book if you love nessian and the acotar world in general, but don't expect the world building to be consistent with greater fantasy series'. This style of story is obviously what to expect. She writes what she likes, and if her fantasy is this - then who are we, as readers, to expect otherwise?

Final rating: 4.5 (no, i'm not objective, but objectivity does not exist if you are a real, human being, lol)

Original Characters: 5/5 (nessian/az/house wise) 1/5 (feysand - really over how they essentially take over the very end of the book - ugh, I wanted nesta's arc to be wholly separate from them) Writing style: 3.5 Cringe Scale: Low, with the exception of some dialogue. New Characters: 2 Plot: I went into it with a 2 and came out with a 4. Not in terms of complexity, but in terms of how addictive and enjoyable this reading experience was! (less)

#acofas #sjm #sarah j maas #acotar #nesta #nesta archeron #nessian

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thisselflovecamebacktome · 4 years

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My personal connection with Taylor’s discography, part one: It’s Time To Go

No more “official” meanings for music. The world has progressed past having to consider “official” meanings of songs. I’m kidding... partially. Obviously I love connecting the dots with Taylor’s music as much as the next Swiftie, but my favourite aspect of listening to music is the emotional relatability of transferring it to events in my own life. I have also unfortunately been ridiculed for relating to romantic songs in non-romantic ways and so forth. So I’ve decided in a bid to normalise personal relatability to songs and just generally get my thoughts out there, I’m going to write out what these songs mean to me and how. Also a special shout out to @cowboylikedean who inspired this series with how Folklore and Evermore has been helping zir recover from zir heartbreak over the Supernatural ending.

Anyway, I’ve decided I’m working backwards with these because why not? I should probably also note that unless there are lyrical changes in a repeated part (mostly choruses), I’m only going to include each of those parts once as a way to reduce repeating myself. So let’s get started.

It’s Time To Go

As a whole, this song is a reassuring comfort that despite seeing my tendency to leave as a flaw caused by the trauma of staying too long in the past, it typically has served me well. Though, like many of Taylor’s songs, It’s Time To Go mostly reminds me of my family, there are aspects of past friendships that I definitely feel like I dodged a bullet with by leaving.

When the dinner is cold and the chatter gets old, you ask for the tab

To me, this line reminds me of my father and my relationship before I cut him off. Despite feeling like I was his favourite child for most my childhood, communication between us started breaking down in my teen years. By the time my family fell apart when I was 20, I felt like seeing him weekly for lunches was a chore I was doing ‘for old time’s sake’. As a whole, despite loving him, there was just no longer any common ground and it showed with most of that time being spent in awkward silences or silently nodding along to things we didn’t understand that the other person said until I guiltily gave my ‘well I guess I better be heading home’ line.

Or that moment again he's insisting that friends look at each other like that

When I was in my teen years, I was in an (partially non consensually sexual) abusive friendship. This line brought me right back to the beginning of that friendship when I’d vocalise that I, a person with a history of sexual violence before that, was uncomfortable at the way he would sexualise me or stare lustfully at me. And you guessed it, every time he’d try to gaslight me into thinking I was just making it up and ‘friends look at each other like that all the time’. This line also has a tinge of regret for me because looking but I wish I had accepted that it was time to go then as opposed to staying which led to the abuse.

When the words of a sister come back in whispers that prove she was not in fact what she seemed. Not a twin from your dreams, she's a crook who was caught

So these lines are interesting to me because outside of the generalised outro, it is the only part of this song that relates to two completely unrelated scenarios.

‘When the words of a sister come back in whispers to prove she was not who she seemed, not a twin from your dreams’ reminds me of the members of my family I thought I was close to growing up. Like these people spent my whole life telling me I was their favourite, telling me they’d provide if I needed anything and just generally put so much extra time and effort into me than my cousins and siblings. Then, when I begged for help, refused to even check in on me when my sister left and then told me they’d rather watch me starve and be homeless than step in and push my father to do the right thing by my mother, brother and I.

‘When the words... come back in whispers that prove she was not in fact what she seemed, she’s a crook who was caught’ meanwhile reminds me of an ex acquaintance from university. While I was not super close with her, she seemed decent enough so I introduced her to another now ex friend of mine in hopes that if I ever held events, I wouldn’t have to worry about her because she’d know at least one other person. While seemingly a small thing, this was a large step for me given how much the abusive friend mentioned above fucked me and past friendships up to the point this was the first time in six years I was introducing friends that hadn’t previously met to each other. And this girl knew that. She also knew that I was in a very vulnerable state given I had just cut off my father and was in between medications. Despite this, she spent the week she knew this other friend doing everything she could to fuck up our friendship and convince me that this other friend didn’t like/trust me, and unfortunately it worked.

That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul. You know when it's time to go

This line feels very self explanatory. Sometimes you just need to trust your gut, even if it fucking kills you. Very much ‘I think I’ve seen this film before, so I’m leaving out the side door’ vibes.

Twenty years at your job then the son of the boss gets the spot that was yours

So to me, this line reminds me of the way my parents pinned my sister and I against each other, and in turn the resentment that causes when thinking about how I felt like I was damn near to the perfect daughter, stuck around for the ‘ugly’/hard parts that she didn’t and did everything I could for my parents and family in general just for everything to still revolve around my sister. Like my father chose ‘her’ (more like chose his own dishonesty and knew she’d put up with it for financial gain whereas I wouldn’t), my mother’s whole life revolves around her hurt for my sister rather than trying to have a relationship with me and my sister still got all of the support from the family despite being the one in the wrong. But here’s the thing, as much as I want to be bitter at her, she was a child when everything happened and couldn’t help that she was put in a good position and I wasn’t. It was the ‘boss’ of my adult family that chose that and that’s where the blame lays here.

Or trying to stay for the kids when keeping it how it is will only break their hearts worse

Ironically this line pretty much means the opposite to me. Like to me, this was how I felt trying to juggle relationships with both my parents after they split. Like my mother felt betrayed every time I went to see my father even though it was a precondition for him giving her money when he finally agreed to, and my father felt betrayed that I was his favourite yet opted to live with mum and support her. It was a lose/lose situation and the longer it went on, the worse the pain was for all three of us.

Sometimes giving up is the strong thing

Giving up on the abusive friend above was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. After having experienced the suicide of a close friend the year before, I had admittedly grown a supergirl complex where I felt like I had to save everyone, and knowing that this abusive friend was suicidal and still walking away despite my fears that he’d die in a way he wouldn’t have if I just stayed tore me apart emotionally and made me feel like I had failed and been weak as a friend. But ultimately it was the strong thing because I had to leave all my friends from that group behind as a result and start again.

Sometimes to run is the brave thing

So in the theme of ‘I’ve had to restart my life too many times from leaving everything behind’, we have the beginning, the first time I stood my ground and refused to go back to a situation that I was upset in. In sixth grade (final grade of elementary school where I am), I had an outburst with one of my friends about how I felt like I was her comedy/emotional punching bag. Her response? Make the whole year barring one guy hate me. That guy and my friends in the year below also got targeted for their choice to stay friends with me. By the end of the year, things started cooling down and she asked me to go to the same high school as 99% of the rest of the year and remain friends. I didn’t. I instead went to the opposing school with the bad reputation despite the idea of knowing no one and being alone scaring the shit out of me. Granted looking back it was kinda dumb to be scared given that I went from having 40ish kids in my year to like 120 (and would have been more if I went to that other school) so wouldn’t have had to deal with the false ultimatum of her or being alone anyway, but at the time it was a massive deal for me and the bravest thing I would do until leaving that abusive friendship years later.

Sometimes walking out is the one thing that will find you the right thing

Basically this just encapsulates leaving both friendship groups from above. Like leaving the elementary school group allowed me to find people who I didn’t feel I had to pretend around in high school and then leaving that high school group found me people who had common interests and wanted to challenge and grow beside me. In general, it really doesn’t feel like much is going well in my life right now, but the one thing I can say is that I finally feel like I am in a place where every friend that I have put effort into is meant to be in my life and deserves to be and I don’t feel like anything is missing on that front. So maybe it took 23 years, but at least I got there.

Fifteen years, fifteen million tears begging 'til my knees bled. I gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all then wondered why I left. Now he sits on his throne in his palace of bones praying to his greed. He's got my past frozen behind glass but I've got me

Family, family family. Quite frankly, I think these parts I wrote in an unsent letter to my father explain it best.

“And I’ve had to do it alone because the literal years I spent degrading myself into feeling like the child this family made me out to be and begging for an ‘adult’ to step in and help were met with apathy and in your case, fake apologies. And then each and every one of you has had the nerve to act like I abandoned you or that I am a thoughtless child who only won’t see you because mummy said no.”

“You have taken every part of my family, my mental health and potentially even my future away from me, and whether you care or not, that’s something you and I both have to live with for the rest of our days.”

I spent my whole childhood/very early adulthood seeing the signs of my sister slipping from us and trying to prevent exactly what ended up happening. I spent the following three years begging for people who could fix it to do so. And then when they refused, I somehow became the villain and ‘insane’ and ‘not a family person’ for leaving.

But at the end of the day, they lost a person that would have loved and done anything for them for a lifetime. I left with my self-respect, only losing fairweathered people who only liked the idea of me anyway.

And you know, you know, you know, you know when it's time to go. So then you go. You just go...

Going back to the main theme, sometimes you’ve just gotta trust your instincts and take that first step knowing you’re doing the right thing for yourself and walking towards what you need.

#taylor swift #it's time to go #evermore album #about me #did anyone ask for this? no. but I am annoying and plaguing your dashes with my thoughts and feelings anyway lmao

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years

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(っ◔◡◔)っ 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕦𝕡♥

InuYasha, Full Metal Alchemist, and Yu-Gi-Oh! Match-Up Request

May I please have a match-up for these fandoms? :) Thank you very much :D

Name: Corethra (or Corey for short)

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Hand Packer at an ice cream factory. I work 12 hours (5:30pm to 6am) 2-2-3.

Birthplace: Memphis, TN, USA. I was raised in the neighborhood called Frayser which is the most impoverished area in Memphis and has a high crime rate as expected.

Zodiac Sign: Pisces (born March 2)

Chinese Zodiac: Year Of The Pig

MBTI Type: INFJ

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Love Language: Acts Of Service

Race/Ethnicity: African-American

Height: 4'11 (Call me short and I’ll kick your butt!)

Body Type/Shape: Average but well developed figure at best. I weigh about 158 lbs and am pretty insecure about my body.

Hair Color/Style: Black and naturally curly but I keep it flat-ironed so it’s straight. It’s long and goes down to just below my shoulder blades. There are times when I will have braids put in of various lengths.

Glasses or No?: Yes I wear glasses

Eye Color: Brown

Dress Style: I usually dress up in a casual way, just throwing on whatever looks good at the time but I will sometimes put in the effort when the time calls for it or when I’m in a good mood. I have an affinity for the punk, emo, and goth styles and I rarely wear feminine clothes but I will wear something risky every once in a while.

Hobbies/Interests: Video games, reading, writing, anime, internet surfing, listening to music, politics (sometimes), watching movies/TV shows, basically being an overall nerd. I’m usually either on my laptop or one of my many video game consoles if I’m not on my phone or reading one of my books.

Dislikes: Ignorance, stupidity, restriction, manipulation/gas-lighting, bullying, humanity, not being understood, corruption/injustice, close-mindedness

Personality: At first glance, I seem quiet and keep to myself, only speaking when I need to or when I’m spoken to. I’m an anti-social introvert to the fullest and don’t care much for small talk or going out. I prefer to have deeper conversations. When I get comfortable enough in whatever environment I’m in, I start to open up bit by bit. I’m a tomboy and pretty rough-minded as well as stubborn. I’m very sassy, have a smart, sarcastic, and witty mouth if not humorous and outrageous at times, can be borderline rude, and I’m more sensitive than I care to be. I can literally cry at someone’s suffering especially if it’s someone I’m close to or even a total stranger. I’m very empathetic and my heart is bigger than what most people would expect. Most people describe me as quiet, intelligent, creative, dorky, a smartass, and really sweet. I love a good laugh and have an open sense of humor to boot.

Many of my friends say that I’m very sweet and kind which I usually am if I’m in a good mood as well as affectionate as hell. Hugs and pet names galore with me! However only my friends and family see that side of me. My language is often unfiltered, harsh, foul, and blunt which shocks people because they think I’m a pure angel. I say what I want when I want and no one tells me otherwise. If they do, they can expect a mouthful from me. I’m an escapist and very imaginative, can be a bit scatterbrained at times, and I’m methodical and detailed to the point of perfectionism. I’m usually a walking contradiction in terms of personality in so many ways to the point where the real me is almost impossible to decipher. To make matters more complicated, I’m not very good at expressing myself verbally and prefer to let my actions do the talking. I also express myself better through written form.

I have many pet peeves and I get annoyed easily in general. I’m also slowly embracing misanthropy and nihilism but I can be pretty idealistic so it balances out. I’m practically zero tolerance when it comes to bullshit. I hate confrontation and conflict but I’m starting to work on it so I can be less passive-aggressive and more assertive. I also wish to stand up for myself more often than I should so people won’t think that I’m weak and an easy target. I’m pretty cynical which is to be expected and usually expect the worst from people. When someone angers me, I will either just withdraw altogether and completely cut them off (slam the door basically) or get in their face and go off before doing the former. I’m the “hold my anger in and release it all at once” type but I hope to change that one day and stop letting things fester before they get out of hand. I can be quite petty and even cold as well and if someone wrongs me, they will have to make the first move to mend fences. I refuse to apologize if I’m not in the wrong and I will not accept gaslighting/guilt tripping. I also refuse to change for others and will admit to having quite a lot of pride but that’s mostly due to me not wanting to be hurt and manipulated, mistreated, or used.

I have issues with trust and a wild imagination to boot. I usually trust my instincts and can see right through bullshit. I don’t like taking risks and I have to know all the details when I do something so I don’t mess up and look like an idiot. I am indeed a perfectionist and introverted to a fault which often prevents me from trying new things and going outside my comfort zone. I haven’t been in a relationship yet and am still a virgin due to my issues with trust and not wanting to be hurt or humiliated as well as being quite picky/perfectionistic with the people I allow in my life. I have high standards for both people and myself although I’m pretty laid-back and my dislike of conflict allows me to also take a lot of shit from people too before I eventually say “fuck it” and slam the door or go off on them. I don’t think very highly of myself and can sometimes fall into a period of self-hatred and self-pity.

Many people praise me for my intelligence which is fitting since I’m an intellectual. My ideals and beliefs are rather odd to say the least (I’m a classical liberal/independent and despise most ideologies/ideas. This includes religion, feminism, social justice, traditionalism, statism, big government, nationalism, socialism/communism, etc.) and I feel misunderstood because of it (mostly because of the black community ostracizing me). I am indeed a rebel, open-minded, and a free thinker. No one tells me how to think or feel or else they face my wrath. I highly value power over myself and I think it’s the most important thing that a person needs in order to survive. I am definitely an outcast at heart and I often distance myself from others and don’t like talking about my feelings or beliefs because I think most people lack the ability/capacity to understand me. Before I give my opinion on something, I like to do as much research as possible as well as look at things from all perspectives before coming to my own conclusion. I don’t mind discussing things but I prefer logic over emotion when doing so which makes it damn near impossible these days for me to have an real conversation without insults and threats being thrown (usually towards me). Chances are I’m gonna find something wrong with damn near anything someone believes in or says and I’m not afraid to call it out when I see it. Once I do open up and express how I feel, the gates of passion will open up and never close. I also have high morals and values and stick to my guns no matter what which can make me pretty stubborn at times.

I’m currently battling depression and often experience many symptoms of it including suicidal thoughts and depression spells. I also suffer from iron-deficiency anemia as well. These things are pretty annoying for me to deal with whenever they flare up.

Overall, I’m pretty crazy and a handful to deal with. Good luck matching me up with someone :P

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Hello @sacredwarrior88 and thank you for submitting with us! I hope you like the boys we matched you up with!

>Admin 𝕋

Hello hello~! Thank you so much for submitting your request with us! We apologize that it took so long to get out, but here it is! I handled the YGO portion of your match-up. Again, like Admin T said, we hope you enjoy who we’ve matched you up with!

» » Admin Ko

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽...

Out of all the charactsers in fullmetal alchemist I can definitely see Scar as being someone that would truly appreciate you! If we just skip by the homicidal tendencies, he would be such a gentle lover! I feel we would really appreciate your body and your appearances to the absolute maximum, I can definitely see Scar as someone who would constantly compliment you, especially if you are feeling pretty insecure one day! He was also love the you wear glasses; not because he likes people that where glasses, but only because you just look too damn cute in them!

He also hates people who are arrogant and mean manipulative to get what they want, so I feel you two could really bond on that! As for personality, I feel that Scar would compliment your stubbornness and cockiness. He will also the love the fact that you say what is on your mind, and can be a little sarcastic when you want to be! He thinks it is a little sexy to him, how you stand up for yourself and don’t take shit from nobody, even from him sometimes. He will see that you strong and independent when you need, but can also become very empathetic and cry tears of sadness for anything and anybody that has experienced anything bad in their life.

Scar is the same way when it comes to being verbally affectionate; he is really not good with words, but he is great with actions. So seeing as you are the same way as him, he will really appreciate and love the fact that you wouldn’t judge him for it! He will feel accepted around you, you will make him feel safe to be himself and show you his vulnerable side, so that he isn’t alone anymore, you will be there for him. When he needs to cry, you will be there to be his shoulder to cry on, you will be his crutch when he needs help standing up. He will love the fact that you give hugs and petnames; every time you call him something different in an affectionate way, it will go straight to his heart, and make him feel like he is walking on water or flying high up in the clouds.

This stoic demon will be the one for you! He will love how you look, though he hates human, he will make an exception for you! The most enthralling part he will find about you, is your hair and how curly it is. He will love how it looks if a breeze comes by and rustles it, making it move beautifully. As for physicals, he wouldn’t care much for it, all that matters is that you are strong and can take care of yourself without needing someone else’s help, for the most part! He will see that you are independent and can take no shit from anybody, and he will find that very admirable, and something he would definitely cherish in a lover.

He will love how sarcastic you are, and how on the other side of it you can be the nicest person, when they deserve it. He will see how emotional you can be, and how you can cry for anything and think it is very cute; charming in a way, since it is something that he can’t really understand. He will understand that you aren’t affectionate in the verbal sense, but more in the written and body language sense, and honestly, he would like that better then you constantly telling him how you feel about him. He would find that quite annoying.

He will see that sometimes you can be down on yourself, and he will try to make sure that you are okay, or will try to sheer you up. Key word, try, here. Most of the time he fails, but the efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed. It’s the effort that would help the most, because it shows that he cares and that he wants you happy and not so self loathing. He will try to tell you that you are much more than your insecurities and then list all the great things about you. And then once he was done, he will just walk away because, wow, that was embarrassing even more for him. He doesn’t usually go on rants like that. Especially to help someone.

But all in all, I feel Sesshomaru would be the perfect man, for you, since he has the same ideal as you, would love how you keep more to yourself in an introvert way, but at the same time can be super affectionate when you want to be. Someone who can teach him what it means to feel and have emotions. To cry when you feel sad and laugh when something is amusing to him. You are the one for him!

»»————-　♡　————-««

ᴊᴏᴇʏ ᴡʜᴇᴇʟᴇʀ

It’s to the absolute surprise of no one that initially meeting, you both don’t start off on the right foot. With how energetic and confrontational he can be, Joey isn’t necessarily the best when it comes to making friends quickly. Thus, the relationship you both have in the beginning starts off rocky.

With time though, and a lot of assurance from your friends and his friends, you both interact with one another properly in neutral terrain where you can both get to know one another without jumping the gun too quickly. It’s through this that Joey begins to slowly garner a crush for you. He loves your stubborn and rough minded self as it not only correlates well with his, but serves as a sort of reminder / signal to him that not only should he try to tone it down, but try to keep you from blowing up unnecessarily. Though this doesn’t work often as you both don’t hesitate to double team on someone with wit and sarcastic comebacks.

He loves your snark and your blunt way of speaking. As someone who never enjoyed it when people blatantly lied or beat around the bush with him, he appreciates the sharp honesty you provide for him. Though of course this won’t be one sided as he’ll be sure to give you his own thoughts and opinions.

Overall, Joey may be rough around the edges, but he’s loyal to a fault and won’t hesitate to help you overcome any obstacle. No matter how big or small. He’s adamant in becoming your boulder in those bouts of spells and will always remind you that no matter what he’ll be there for you.

#submissions #matchup #matchups #submission #inuyasha matchup #fullmetal alchemist matchup #yuigioh mtachup

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oliverpdaniel · 4 years

Text

Let’s talk about casual homophobia.

I wanted to share a transcript of a TikTok video by a minor celebrity (I won't do them the honour of identifying them, but suffice it to say that this individual thrives mostly on controversy and poor publicity), to demonstrate what day-to-day homophobic language looks like. Many of these questions have been asked to me, or tell of real things that I've experienced, due to a generally callous view of queer folks. The quoted parts are the actual video, the unquoted responses mine.

Note in advance that some of these questions are clearly oriented towards gay men, but I am responding from the perspective of a bisexual man. Anyway...

"Okay, these are my questions for the gays – sorry, I was on Straight TikTok for a minute; what?"

Or, as you might like to call it, TikTok. For those unfamiliar, "Gay TikTok" is a small subset of the TikTok community that makes videos primarily revolving around in-jokes and shared experiences of the queer community. Thus, "Straight TikTok" is only extant in contrast, a joking reference to certain, overwhelmingly heteronormative parts of the TikTok community. While I'm not a big fan of the idea of 'ownership' or deciding who's allowed to say what, this (obnoxiously straight, in every sense of the word 'obnoxious') celebrity is trying somewhat unceremoniously to insert themselves into a narrative not their own here. Not off to a great start.

(1) "Would you care if your partner was bisexual?"

Whelp, this is one I can't really answer, can I? But, this still does lean into the old "gold-star" ideology of homosexuality, which makes it off-putting from the jump. For those unfamiliar, a "gold star" gay/lesbian is one who has never had sex with the opposite gender. This is a completely silly distinction, that fails to take into account personal circumstances, as well as – y'know – the fluid nature of human sexuality. TL;DR, even if you're exclusively into one gender, you shouldn't care about your partner's sexual orientation (other than, y'know, making sure it includes your gender) because, leaving aside the absolutely rad underworld of polyamory, they're only going to be into you while they're with you.

(2) "Have you ever been with someone of the opposite gender?"

Ah, more gold-starring! A great way to start. "You're trans? What's your deadname?"

(3) "Do you take offence when a girl calls you her Gay Best Friend?"

The Gay Best Friend is an expendable, non-threatening fount of femininity in masculine form, someone to go clothes-shopping with and who will give you sassy advice on boys. God forbid, however, that the Gay Best Friend try to be vulnerable with you about the difficulties of LGBTQIA+ life; they're only there for sashaying and making out with at parties, right? The Gay Best Friend is an incredibly harmful notion to men on both sides of the sexuality spectrum. Gay (and ESPECIALLY bi/pan/poly) men already know to fear the label, because of the dismissive treatment and expectation of performative homosexuality that comes along with it. Straight men should fight against it, too, because it's a symptom of the present hegemony of heterosexual relationships, which revolves around sexual transactionalism and a healthy dose of gender-role-fuelled intimidation[1]. (If you've never heard any of those words, you're probably the target audience here.)

(4) "Be honest – how many times has a straight person tried to hook you up with a gay person based solely on the fact that they're gay and no other compatibility requirements?" (with a devilish smile, into full blown "oh guuuuuurl" laughter)

This is a real thing that happens to people, myself included, all too frequently. It tells us that when you look at me, you don't think "Oliver", you think "Gay", and next time you meet another gay guy, that's the word ringing through your head. It's not funny. It's hurtful. If you're going to recommend a partner to me, make sure you actually have faith in a connection forming. As someone who ended up in an abusive relationship as a result of overzealous matchmaking, it's not something to be taken lightly; relationships, especially gay relationships and all the societal friction they inevitably entail, are not here for your endearment.

(5) "Are you down to hook up with someone who's 'just curious'?"

MORE gold-starring! God, could you imagine the uproar if a lesbian approached a straight person and said that they "missed dick" and/or wanted to experiment!? Oh, wait, that's already common in straight porn to the point of cliché. Gag; and not the good kind of gag.

(6) "Do you proudly wear the rainbow flag, or are you kinda against it because it kinda segregates?"

...what? When I first found this video, it was being duetted (TikTok's side-by-side video response) by a queer person, and at this point they took the opportunity to say, "I don't like you." I echo the sentiment.

(7) "Are you a 'yaaaaaas kweeeeen' gay or are you, like, 'fuck that shit what the fuck?'"

WE ARE NOT HERE TO PERFORM QUEERNESS FOR YOU. Leaving aside the sociolinguistic aspects of queer language and its intersection with (read: theft from) African-American Vernacular English, if people want to act flamboyantly gay, THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. If people want to act "normal" (read: heteronormatively!!!), that's NONE OF YOUR GOD DAMN BUSINESS. Queer people are fucking people, they act differently in different scenarios, and it's not for you to fetishize or to find "too much sometimes". When you accept a queer person into your life, you're accepting every facet of them into your life, for them to live and love unapologetically – not just the parts you find entertaining.

(8) "This might be a dealbreaker for me: do you like musical theatre?"

Yes. But even if I didn't – if I liked drinking beer and watching Nascar (sorry dad), but wish I had a boyfriend to do that with, guess what? That's my own fucking business. And, again, if your idea of a "dealbreaker" when engaging with a gay person is whether or not they like musical theatre – probably one of the most tired stereotypes about gay folks – and not, I dunno, if they're fun to be around and respect your boundaries and opinions, then maybe you're not looking for a gay friend for the right reason.

(9) "Be honest – do you still go through the Chick-Fil-A drivethrough and get that spicy chicken sandwich or those nuggies?" (big, face-scrunching smile.)

This is the one that REALLY got me. This displays just how tone-deaf this person is and how deeply they've objectified the concept of homosexuality for themselves. Chick-Fil-A is a massively homophobic organization from the top down, and they donate millions to organizations that want to bring into question my very right to exist, morally and legally.

As a straight person not affected by these issues, it's easy to say "well, I know I /shouldn't/ go to Chick-Fil-A because of the 'gay stuff', but oh IT'S SOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOD!". It's easy to momentarily forget one's morality because hey, it's not like you're directly hurting anyone, right? But, as a queer person who has to walk by the brand-new Chick-Fil-A at Yonge and Bloor every day on my walk to class, seeing the lines wrapping around the block lets me take direct measure of who, and how many, are willing to forget about me for just long enough to enjoy a fucking chicken sandwich. Go literally anywhere else. Eating at Chick-Fil-A is a choice, and it's a choice that informs me that you care less about my right to live than your own personal enjoyment.

(10) "Do you get upset when they have straight actors portray gay characters?"

This is a whole other debate, so I'm not going to get into the actual subject matter of this question. But hey – maybe, in an industry literally overrun with queer people, maybe we can stop converting a significant and pernicious problem in entertainment into a cutesy debate topic? Something really tells me that this person isn't going to start whipping out the intersectional feminist literature to explain their argument here. In all likelihood, it'll sound more along the lines of "but Eddie Redmayne looked so GOOD in that dress!"

(11) "And what's the GAYEST thing about you?'

Nope. Shut up and choke. I hate you.

Never tell me for a second that homophobia is "over" in Canada/the West/wherever. Never tell me that it's a distant issue, remaining only in far-off religious backwaters. This is what it can look like. Fetishization; dismissal; turning struggles for human dignity into pseudo-intellectual debates.

I'm not here to be your Gay Best Friend.

I'm not here to date your new gay acquaintance.

I'm not here to repeatedly explain to you my need to have rights.

I'm here for the same reasons you are.

I want to live and love, not to be treated like a toy.

Footnotes

[1] Okay, I'm obviously not saying that all straight relationships are built around sexual transactionalism and intimidation, nor am I saying that non-comphet relationships are not. But, in my experience as a reformed Gay Best Friend who has had to provide counsel to cishet friends over some INFURIATINGLY stupid relationship/courting issues, I would argue that a full ninety percent of them could be resolved if the experiencer simply viewed their partner/interlocutor/'tyng' as another human being, rather than being from the mysterious species that is The Opposite Gender.

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mllemaenad · 6 years

Note

'Imagine your children growing up in such a world. If a mage asked it of you, you would have to give him your daughter, not knowing what his plans for her might be. You could not resist him, and neither could she.' - Sorry, this line particularly came to my attention because take away magic and this? Is exactly what happens in the Tabris origin. And to that one Orlesian merchant in Denerim in DA:O. And probably to any number of peasant/elven girls at the hands of nobles every day across Thedas.

No need to be sorry. :)

You’re right. Absolutely.

The thing is – take this in context. This is an answer written by a grand cleric to a nobleman who seems (we don’t have his side of the conversation, obviously, so we can only infer from the substance of the reply) to have been challenging the Chantry’s treatment of mages. If you look at it like that, then what the grand cleric is describing is what happens to almost every mage child in southern Thedas.

Armed men come to your door and take your child away. You have no right to say no. And you have no idea what they’re going to do with them. They may take your child to a Circle across the sea. They may murder them. They may make them Tranquil. They may rape them, beat them, torture them. Maybe you’ll be lucky: maybe your kid is Vivienne or one of the Warden mages. Maybe they’ll do okay.

But you don’t know. And you can’t tell the Templars to go away; that they can’t have your child. They live in a world where this happens to parents every day.

It’s almost too much to imagine. The Circle, the Templars, they’ve shaped my life. I was no more than twelve when they came for me. My mother wept when they fixed the chains to my wrists, but my father was glad to see me gone. He had been afraid, ever since the fire in the barn. Not just afraid of what I could do, but afraid of me, afraid my magic was punishment for whatever petty sins he imagined the Maker sat in judgement upon.

– Anders (short story)

Anders’s mum couldn’t say no. Maybe she wanted to. At bare minimum, it sounds as though she didn’t want to lose her son forever. But that’s what happened. Little Ella is desperate to get back to her parents, because the Templars didn’t even tell them where they were taking her – and when we encounter her, a Templar is threatening her with Tranquillity and strongly implied sexual assault.

Wynne gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom she was allowed one day with before he was taken into Chantry custody. The child, who was names Rhys, was taken to Lydes and from there transferred to the White Spire in Orlais when it was discovered that he, too, was a mage.

– World of Thedas I

They kidnapped a newborn baby and took him to a different damn country. It took decades, and fighting an archdemon, for Wynne to even get the chance to find him again.

Dulci de Launcet was lucky: she’s a noble, so she at least had letters and some general idea of where her kid was, but she hadn’t laid eyes on her son since he was six.

Yeah. Good fucking job, Chantry. You really solved the problem of powerful people coming to your door to abduct your children.

But while, yes, given the context of the letter I think the irony is best understood in relation to mages, I definitely think it can be expanded upon:

The demon had impersonated the human man who had bought her from the slavers that took her in after her father died. She’d had no idea back then who those kind men really were, only that they offered her food and a warm bed to sleep in. Then an even kinder man came to take her from them, and she found herself in his luxurious home and thought herself the luckiest girl in the entire alienage.

How very naive she had been. Count Dorian, as she learned her new master’s name to be, had been in search of an elven whore he could keep as a pet, something he could put in a pretty dress and bring with him on one of his many trips to the capital, like baggage.

– Dragon Age: The Calling

Ah, look. The exact scenario Grand Cleric Francesca was fear-mongering about. A little girl abducted, enslaved and sold to a nobleman who abused and tortured her. Yes, a mage-child as it happens, but that wasn’t apparent at the time. Fiona was vulnerable because she was an elf – an orphaned elf considered expendable by society.

“What they wish is irrelevant.” Celene turned and stalked away from the window. “I am already fighting a war on two fronts. I cannot be seen to fight a war on three.”

“Then don’t.” Briala rose, putting herself in Celene’s path. “Give them justice.”

“A lord for the death of an elf? I … damn this thing.”

With a quick jerk, Celene tore her mask from her face. Her face was flushed beneath, her eyes red from another night of little sleep. “Shall I declare the elves equal citizens before the Maker and the throne as well, while I’m at it?”

“Why not?” Briala took her own mask off, stealing a quick moment to steady herself. “Unless you don’t believe that, and I’m just a jumped-up kitchen slut you haven’t tired of yet.

– Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

Or here: a revolt that ends in genocide, and that begins because it is unthinkable that they arrest a nobleman for murdering an elf. The victim’s name was Lemet. He was killed shielding an eight-year-old boy who threw a rock at a carriage. And the boy said he did it because his mother had been murdered by Orlesian nobility:

“They killed my mother,” the boy said, pulling against Lemet’s grip.

“Be quiet.” Lemet looked back at the coach and heard its joints creak as the guards jumped down to the street. The driver would want to have that oiled, some part of Lemet’s mind noted.

“They can’t come down this street after what they did to her,” the boy insisted. “They can’t!”

– Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

Or this, where soldiers rob, rape and murder their own citizens in the midst of a civil war:

“Two days ago, Lady Seryl’s men rode in and cur down every man and woman working the fields. Killed our guards, killed everyone in the village square. When they finished killing the other soldiers, they fired arrows out onto the water, killed most of our boys in the boats. They took all the food they could find. They spent the night.” A collective flinch splashed across the crowd. “Said we had been assisting enemies of the throne, that this was a lesson to anyone who’d help Gaspard’s men.” At the last, his voice broke. “My lord, I don’t even know who Gaspard is.”

– Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

Or the serial killer who is repeatedly allowed to walk free because he’s a magistrate’s son, and he targets elven children. Or the elven boys who fled to the Qun because a guard raped their sister – no one would arrest him, so they took matters into their own hands.

And yes, of course, you see the exact same thing in Ferelden in the alienage.

I’m sure everyone feels so much safer now they’ve locked up all the mages.

Orlais’s crimes don’t excuse Tevinter’s. That’s where they went wrong with Dorian’s … painful dialogue on slavery. You can’t point to the horrors of Orlesian society and therefore suggest that the Tevinter slave trade is not that awful. It doesn’t work like that. What you can do, though, is say that Tevinter’s crimes don’t excuse Orlais’s – particularly when they tend to do exactly the same shit:

Slavery still thrives in Thedas, even if the trade has been outlawed. Who hasn’t heard the tales of poverty-stricken elves lured into ships by the prospect of well-paying jobs in Antiva, only to find themselves clapped in leg-irons once at sea? And humans fall prey to this, too.

If they’re lucky, they end up in Orlais, which has only “servants.” Most nobles treat them decently because they are afraid of admitting the truth. Orlesians go to great lengths to maintain the fiction that slavery is illegal.

Of course, the greatest consumer of slave labor is the Tevinter Imperium, which would surely crumble if not for the endless supply of slaves from all over the continent. There, they are meat, chattel. They are beaten, used as fodder in the endless war against the Qunari, and even serve as components in dark magic rituals.

—From Black City, Black Divine: A Study of the Tevinter Imperium, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar

– Slavery in the Tevinter Imperium

Fiona is not an anomaly: Orlais kidnaps and sells people into slavery, too.

And this makes sense. Fantasy always draws on the real world, even if they mix and match the cultures and historical periods a bit. So, just like in the real world, you generally have to take anything the wealthy and powerful say with a grain of salt.

The Chantry has a very specific, empire building, agenda. It makes much of problems that aren’t really problems (demons and abominations are not widespread threats, and both are poorly understood); it pins the blame for actual crises on oppressed groups (the Blight is in no way the fault of this random peasant mage from Antiva); it uses racism and religious intolerance to create in- and out-groups (elves [and dwarves, but we haven’t conquered them yet] are degenerate heathens who are preventing the Maker from returning).

As much as I love Dragon Age, what Bioware does sometimes that is … uncomfortable … to use a mild word, is that it lets the powerful rule the narrative. Inquisition is worst at this, because it presents strong voices for people like Cassandra and Cullen, who stick fairly close to the party line. And then it takes characters like Varric and Sera, and distances them from their own cultures … which is fine for individuals but awkward when we’re not letting Briala or Fiona say much either – and where the fuck is Sigrun? No one’s spoken for Orzammar’s casteless since Awakening. But it’s there, to some extent, in all the games.

So the point, always, is that mages and Circles are misdirection. Mages are scapegoats in the Chantry faith who are held responsible for all the bad things, and represent a pretend evil nobility that the Orlesian Chantry is keeping under control.

But the actual problems of this fantasy world are more or less the same as the problems of the real world: powerful nations dominate the continent and force others to bow to their whims and adopt their culture, because empires are just shit; the rich and powerful hoard all the rights to themselves, and can do damn near anything to the poor – particularly where the poor are part of a marginalised group.

What Orlais doesn’t want people to realise is that they are Tevinter. It was never the mages that were the problem, it was the absolute power the Tevinter magisters held over their slaves – a power now held mostly by the Orlesian nobility, who use it in pretty much the same way. Not exclusively, no: of course the nobility of other nations can be, and bloody are, evil fucks. But even there, the Chantry view helps to obscure the truth: you should be scared of empires and those who rule them. Much more scared than you are of a possessed mage.

#dragon age #Anonymous #cw: violence #cw: abuse #cw: rape #chantry critical

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nureyevsbf · 6 years

Note

first ten for carlisle :3c

i literally almost cried MULTIPLE times while writing this let’s GO

tw for mild internalized homophobia in question 7

sorry if you’re just some rando looking for twilight content who comes across this bc of all the fuckin keywords in it

otp question meme

1. Who is the most affectionate?

does it even count if i say both??? like i have lovey dovey bitch disease and im extremely affectionate but like. carlisle. carlisle who was lonely and heartbroken and crushed by self-loathing for years. carlisle who was touch starved for decades and would probably cry if he was physically capable the first time i touched him lovingly. carlisle who thought he was a monster and damned to hell who finally has someone - someone who's hunted monsters like him before and yet sees this beauty in him and loves him with their whole heart - that looks at him like he put the stars in the sky himself and who loves every part of him and insists he's more human than any of them. that carlisle?????? look me in the fuckin eyes and tell me he wouldn't b the softest most affectionate full-of-love motherfucker on the planet.

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

im the big spoon just bc i Always am and Am Never the little spoon, but a lot of time i'll sleep on his chest while he sits up doing whatever (since, like, doesnt need to sleep and shit)

3. Most common argument?

hmm. i don't think we would argue very much?? we probably don't argue at all until the other cullens start coming along, and it's more... how to correctly handle them. like specifically in new moon i would Definitely be against packing up and moving out just bc edward's being weird and fucking emo and that would definitely turn into...one of the few heated arguments we ever have.

4. Favorite non-sexual activity?

carlisle really likes cooking, even though he can't eat any of it himself, so he enjoys helping me in the kitchen when i make food. he also likes being with me when i sleep - be it curling up with me and resting his eyes or reading while i sleep on his chest or whatever.

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

i think i've answered this before and said it would probably b an even split but. yeah normally it'd b me due to who i am as a person so u would Think. but like. he MORE than has the strength for it and definitely loves to just. sweep me off my feet, literally, when the moment calls for it tbh

also, given vampires r like. Basically stone. i think it's very difficult for me to lift him in my human form.

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

ive definitely answered this one before but. for me, my favorite physical feature is his voice and his eyes. like of course All of him is breathtaking but those two things specifically get my ass. but my favorite non-physical feature - and yes i know i wind up saying this of a Lot of my f/os, im pretty sure this is just my type - is his heart. like....he's such an inherently good person and his desire to do good runs so deep that that's the thing that was amplified when he was turned - he literally is the only cullen who has never taken a human life bc his gift is literally to be able to resist THE most quintessential part of being a vampire. and i RLLY fuckign love that abt him.

he i think also likes my eyes??? there's nothing special abt them like his my eyes are just rlly pretty like irl hjdfghdfjg. he also really just...loves the fact that i'm flesh and blood. like he relishes in my warmth and my heartbeat and the fact that i'm living and it's just made better by the fact that i'm not mortal. like he can still have a partner who's all these things and whose life he can cherish w/o having to deal with me eventually falling victim to this mortal coil that doesn't affect him (and i mean - both of us are not invulnerable but at least it's like. time that's never going to do us part.)

but then as far as non-physical features go, he likes.....ok this is very broad and i do have to explain all the shit that falls under this umbrella. but he likes my sense of good. i'm a deeply, deeply loyal person, and have this very strong sense of morals and a code of honor, and i'm naturally very selfless and giving, and these r all things that made him fall in love w me in the first place.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

oh this is so so emo and im so sorry for how sad this is abt to get. this is one of the parts that almost made me cry and not bc of how soft it is.

for me it's not too bad i just am very obvious abt how attached to him i am and wanna spend more time w him and really like latch onto him once i realize ive caught feelings. like that's just how i am in general.

but w carlisle. it's so hard for him to deal with. like it's just massive fucking turmoil for him. this affection and adoration he feels and is dying to express but this horrible guilt and his self-hatred getting amplified - like, again, he hates himself and what he is and he thinks he's this awful monster even if he's never hurt a human being and is actively trying to help people by studying medicine, and then there's me who he sees the world in and who he knows has distaste for his kind (bc again has actively hunted his kind) and he's just hit with all this shit like. he's not good enough for me, what if i find out abt the way he feels abt me and i'm disgusted by him, what if i leave and don't want to travel with him anymore. could he take that kind of heartbreak, could he take being alone again, could he take being left because of what a wretched thing he is? (there's also probably. religious panic :\\ im sure like coming to terms w being bi/mlm is NOT easy for him, son of a preacher, and im sure that's a part of it.)

he reacts to this whole fucking chaos of emotions in him by withdrawing a lot, i think? getting quieter and distancing himself from me - he's not even really meaning to, he wants to be near me but it hurts so much he just does it on instinct. which turns around and hurts him more, and hurts me in the process, so really this initial weird period of painful ass angsty pining just hurts us both, like, way more than necessary

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

i have Not ultimately though up anything since i was last asked this :pensive: so i think i have to just come to terms w the fact that i don't think we would give each other nicknames. not even shortened versions of our names (outside of me w eli but i literally just go by that normally.) pet names, yes, absolutely; it'd be my standard ones - dear, baby, doll, honey, sometimes love/my love, and if i Really wanna be over-the-top half-facetiously sappy and gross sometimes i'll say "my darling dearest." w him it's darling, dear, love/my love, and his gross over-the-top cheesy bullshit is 100% genuine and absolutely NOT facetious even a LITTLE bit and it DOES fluster the shit out of me when he does super gay ass shit like call me "my heart" or "my light in the dark" or whatever other sappy ass BULLSHIT

9. Who worries the most?

this one i know i've answered before. and like, it's him.... i think he just has a lot to worry abt. im fleshy and kinda vulnerable and that scares him - i think he worries a lot too abt like. what if the nature of our relationship makes me a target. esp with the volturi, who like have it in their rules that vampires are not to associate w werewolves, and that's not what i am but would they be willing to listen to that? especially if aro reads my mind and realizes i've killed their kind before?? the family probably keeps it under wraps tbh, hides me from the volturi, but that's not really a perfect solution. it's probably not till the end of breaking dawn when the volturi agrees to honor the treaties/relationship w the pack that they feel like i'm safe.

he also just worries abt little shit too!! like i can and do get hurt in ways they don't even if it's NOT a big deal. cut myself cooking (which to clarify. my blood isn't an issue bc it smells like shit to them. i think that might have been confirmed for the pack too but. i smell like dog it's Not appealing) or twist my ankle doing some dumbass shit or whatever. and i heal much faster than humans so this shit isn't a problem!! and the rational doctor in him is like this is a very small injury it's really NOT an issue. but the husband in him is like ))))): i don't want him to be hurting

and it just kind of results in him hovering nervously and fussing over me when he RLLY doesnt need to be

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

w us it's not exactly a big deal given carlisle can't exactly eat out at restraurants lol. he does remember my favorite restaurants in every town we go to and my takeout order and regularly brings food home for me on his way back from work, though.

#answered #answered meme #ladychraelix #4 -#5 -#carlisle

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jellybeanbeing · 6 years

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Lady Midnight by Cassandra Clare

I realize this is after the release date of QOAAD but you know what? I just finished rereading it and want to share my thoughts.

Synopsis:

In a kingdom by the sea… In a secret world where half-angel warriors are sworn to fight demons, parabatai is a sacred word. A parabatai is your partner in battle. A parabatai is your best friend. Parabatai can be everything to each other—but they can never fall in love. Emma Carstairs is a warrior, a Shadowhunter, and the best in her generation. She lives for battle. Shoulder to shoulder with her parabatai, Julian Blackthorn, she patrols the streets of Los Angeles, where vampires party on the Sunset Strip, and faeries—the most powerful of supernatural creatures—teeter on the edge of open war with Shadowhunters. When the bodies of humans and faeries turn up murdered in the same way Emma’s parents were when she was a child, an uneasy alliance is formed. This is Emma’s chance for revenge—and Julian’s chance to get back his brother Mark, who is being held prisoner by the faerie Courts. All Emma, Mark, and Julian have to do is solve the murders within two weeks…and before the murderer targets them. Their search takes Emma from sea caves full of sorcery to a dark lottery where death is dispensed. And each clue she unravels uncovers more secrets. What has Julian been hiding from her all these years? Why does Shadowhunter Law forbid parabatai to fall in love? Who really killed her parents—and can she bear to know the truth?

REVIEW TIME W/ SPOILERS!

Wow, I freaking loved rereading Lady Midnight. All the feels have returned! This book probably has to be one of my top favorites. It’s just so good! The main characters are well-written and the plot is amazing. The plot twists are so good and contain the perfect amount of shock factor. Seriously. The first time I read this, I was shaken to the core SO MANY TIMES, I had to pause my reading and take in what I had just read.

Can I just say that I have SO MUCH MORE appreciation for Mark Blackthorn? Man has got the best, and I mean THE BEST character development in TDA ever. In the beginning, he isolates himself and makes it clear that he’s different. He’s angry and alone and broken. The way he flinches from the stele and refuses the runes shows his isolation but at the end, when the whole gang is going to fight Malcolm, he lets Julian draw runes on him AND BOY DID THAT BREAK MY HEART. I loved that scene so so much because Mark has grown so much since the beginning of the book. I also loved his reasons for letting Julian draw runes on him and how it tied to an earlier scene. I don’t make any sense right now so I’ll add in some quotes here:

“Mark shook his head. ‘When they beat me for saying I was a Shadowhunter, it only made me more sure. I know what I am even if I cannot say it.’... So Mark pressed up against his lover and only friend and whispered into the space between them, where his cold body pressed against Kieran’s warm one. ‘I am a Shadowhunter. I am a Shadowhunter. I am a Shadowhunter.’” (296)

“‘For Tavvy,” Mark said... ‘And,’ Mark added, “because I am a Shadowhunter.’ He looked toward Kieran, ... ‘Because I am a Shadowhunter,’ he said again, his eyes full of a private challenge. ‘Because I am a Shadowhunter.’” (568)

I JUST LOVE THESE SCENES AND MARK AND HIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

Something I realized towards the end of the book when Jace and Clary show up, was that they’re the same age as Mark. That made me realize that when the TMI gang saw Mark in the Wild Hunt in COHF, they were the same age but had such different fates. The TMI gang were saving the world, Mark was being exiled because of who he was. That made me so sad.

With this reread, I didn’t really love Julian as much as I did the first time around. He’s been through a lot, with having to take care of his siblings and run the institute at 12 years old, but that still doesn’t excuse him for being an asshole. Like don’t get me wrong, I still love the man but he needs to fix his attitude. In the scene where Julian and Emma return to the institute to find the kitchen a mess, Julian just flips out at Mark and says really hurtful things, and I’m just like, Julian... can you stop? And I don’t even think Julian apologized about saying that stuff. Did he?

One thing that bothered me just a bit was when characters were always thinking and/or talking about their love lives in a dire moment. Example: when Cristina and Emma are in the middle of tracking down Sterling, ready to bust through the bar, they’re still talking about the unresolved feelings Emma has towards Julian. Like, you guys need to focus on the task at hand and talk about that stuff later.

Another thing that bothered me was how Julian and Emma and some others, kept telling Mark to “act normal”. Only days ago did Mark come back from being in the hunt for who knows how long and they already expect him to act like a Shadowhunter? No, that’s not right. And it feels like they barely respect that.

I never realized how many intimate scenes Emma and Julian have but there were a lot and I loved it. THAT SLOW BURN LOVE KILLS ME. Every time they had a moment together, they would stop it before it went any further or they were interrupted and I would always die in agony. I just want Emma and Julian to have a happy ending, goddamnit! Let these precious children not suffer anymore and give them the life they deserve!

The bond and amount of love the characters in this book have for each other is the purest thing ever. I just adore the way Cassandra Clare has written this family. The sacrifices they will make for each other, the lengths they will go to protect each other, everything makes my heart swell. Like at the end where the gang is facing down the Followers, Ty and Livvy are cornered but Dru comes in and shouts for Malcolm to back the fuck off because if he touches them, she will kill him and man, the feels were everywhere. The small bits where we got to see Ty, Livvy, and Dru were so nice because we barely get anything about them in this book.

With The Dark Artifices being a new series in the already developed Shadowhunter world, the world building needs to be brief but thorough so that readers who haven’t read TMI or TID can still understand how the world works. I found that there were moments where it was info-dumpy but one scene that I found very clever that has to do with world building was the classroom scene. The children are being tested by Diana on their knowledge of the Shadowhunter world and rules and laws. It’s so nicely added because it has context to the plot. They’re going to be tested by the Clave so the review is necessary.

The friendship between Cristina and Emma was so nice to see because in TMI and TID, we didn’t get a lot of strong female friendships. Emma and Cristina’s was so real and relatable. The way they lean on each other and can tell each other everything is so nice to see. I want to see more female friendships like this. With that being said, seeing more of Emma and Clary’s friendship would be nice too.

The female characters in this book has got to be my favorite thing. First, Emma. I freaking love Emma Carstairs. I really enjoyed how even though Emma is compared to Jace, Cassandra Clare doesn’t write Emma as a carbon copy. There are some ways they are similar i.e: their joking in a serious situation and level of skills and determination. But they are in so many ways different. I won’t go into detail because this is about Emma, not Jace. Emma is so fierce and sassy and I love it. If you’ve read my other reviews, you know I love my sassy female characters. Although Emma is strong physically and mentally and is humorous, she has vulnerabilities, she shows her emotions. She isn’t your typical strong female heroine. Also, she doesn’t use her parents death and her traumatic past as an excuse to being an asshole. She’s no asshole but like we see so many characters who are rude and abusive, use their traumatic past as a pass and that’s not right.

Cristina Rosales is QUEEN. She is embodies the word non-judgmental. She sees things from both perspectives and makes valid arguments. Cristina is so damn smart. I love how she can be very nice and caring but also a stone-cold badass when she needs to. Like when Sterling called Emma a bitch, Cristina slaps the shit out of him and stands for Emma. Again, QUEEN.

Although we didn’t get a lot of Diana, what we did get from her was amazing. She is so freaking smart! She pieced every clue about Malcolm together and solved it before any of the others could. Yeah, she should’ve told the others but Diana wanted to get rid of the problem herself. That was why she was at the convergence by herself. She was going to fight off Malcolm and save Tavvy before the others even knew of it and could possibly die themselves. It’s very dangerous but Diana is a pure soul.

I admire the way Cassandra Clare writes that Mark is bisexual. It doesn’t leave readers assuming or leaving his sexual orientation open-ended. One thing I absolutely love about the Shadowhunter Chronicles is the amount of diversity she has in these books. She gives us characters of color, of different sexual orientations, of different beliefs, of different disabilities. It’s so broad and it’s freaking amazing.

All in all, I loved rereading this book so much. I noticed so many different things and it was really refreshing. I’m currently rereading Lord of Shadows as well and will hopefully be posting a review about it. 4.5/5 stars!

#lady midnight #the dark artifices #cassandra clare #TDA #Shadowhunter Chronicles #book spoilers #book review

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llycaons · 3 years

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hello, 25. I love lwj but this is yanli’s episode

in the last episode I wanted to mention how nice it is that lxc, an generally compassionate individual with a baseline of common sense, understands that wwx is going through some difficult stuff mentally and would never, just as a example, expect him to remember the nuances of a situation he was completely delirious for. just a friendly relationship with the level of basic interpersonal empathy you would expect from someone like lxc, who can tell when someone is able to register and recall what’s happening around them and when they can’t, perhaps because they’re traumatized and feverish. just a non-specific example I thought up myself nbd

alright, target practice scene. this one got flak for being super heavy-handed, which I kind of get, but I think it shows how powerful the jins were. this entire hunt is a show of strength disguised as a benevolent competition bestowed upon the smaller clans. the only reason wwx didn’t intervene right then was bc jc begged him not to, because he knows the jiangs can’t afford to offend the jins. the lans and nies seem uncomfortable, but I doubt they thought that that trying to intervene would have helped. it seems like the wens are not popular enough for the majority of people to support humane treatment of the remnants anyway...

not that these are excuses btw this was a horrific scene I just get why politicians act the way they do etc.

and lxc was still buddies with jgy after this? man I meant what I said about him being compassionate and generous but like. that’s too much dude. wtf that’s super messed up

also when it comes to the dafan mountain arc, if I had to choose between somewhat awkward plot choices and a romanticized sexual assault scene, well. this isn’t my preferred adaptation for nothing

(but like yanli saw this and girl??? this is the family you’re marrying into??)

wwx taking lxc’s well-meaning advice as “do not associate with my brother as you are tainted’ but lwj walking off the well-worn path to join him anyway!!! the symbolism!!

I still am scene....stunning...nothing to add really except that wwx visibly takes a deep breath before the zhiji line. like he’s bracing himself for the vulnerability. and I think they could have gotten somewhere here if yanli and jzx hadn’t entered the scene

god but this flirting...a trainwreck. he’s nervous but trying to act cool so he’s all “this place is super dangerous. not for me though. I rock. I can show you more dangerous creatures and how I kill them. dangerous creatures are the best because blood sports are exciting” and this poor girl is like “no wtf I hope nobody dies?? why are you telling me this” what a mess

she must have a real soft spot for awkward disasters forfeiting their dignity because after yelling at her that he was the one to invite her and literally running away she’s like ohh okay sure I like that (hopeless romantic yanli?? big weakness for grand romantic gestures that are super embarrassing??))

everyone giving wwx shit for his methods is so hypocritical when the nies caught a shit-ton with their butcher sabres , which is a detail I wish had been included, but anyway. when everyone hears wwx caught 1/3 of the prey and lwj seems alarmed, wwx looks SO disappointed in him! they just said they were zhijis and now lwj is turning around and judging him for catching prey with his sick tunes! this judgement maybe a reason they can’t get make much progress in their relationship right now and why wwx is initially so avoidant of lwj when he comes back.

the thing that stands out to me most when yanli politely rips jin zixun a new one is that when she’s angry, I can really see it. in comparison I actually don’t like xz’s way of expressing anger with wwx. it’s very physical and I think it’s in-character but I don’t think the shaking is enough when his face is so blank. personally. (jc’s anger meanwhile is very real - frightening and and unpleasant because he often uses it to hurt or scare people who are already in trouble)

yanli’s actress is very expressive here, just in her facial expression she looks almost murderous, she’s holding herself taut with barely-restrained rage and you can hear her voice shaking as she defenders her brother. and this may be because this is the only scene she’s ever angry in, but it packs such a punch that xz cried when it wasn’t even scripted and it’s enthralling to watch and I know it’s a widely misinterpreted scene and her apologizing for wwx (like for a child) was humiliating and dangerous to her own fragile social position, but I’m so glad she got this scene. it’s stunning. I liked to see her express herself so strongly and stand by her family

so I do think it’s interesting to note that madame jin (and presumably the more gossip-minded of the cultivation world) do not consider the jiang siblings and wwx to be “real” siblings, which is something that the jiangs and wwx themselves (especially wwx and jc) definitely struggle with later on in the series. and I don’t know if wwx, as the outsider, would even be socially allowed to openly claim the jiangs as his siblings if they don’t do that first, even if that’s how he felt about them (and I think it was very clear he does consider them family). but we do know this is how yanli feels, as she states explicitly

(I wish complicated family dynamics discussions weren’t so plagued with incest shipping I swear to god there is so much here to get into that I don’t want to for fear of the misinterpretations that ppl would take fostered by this fucking culture of sexualizing sibling dynamics)

wen qing!!!! haunting reunion, gorgeous cinematography. even in a crowded street, notice how nobody actually comes between them once they lock eyes with each other

I’m so floored by how easy it would have been to make so many of their scenes romantic but I don’t even get a HINT of that subtext. and that’s something I’ve really been missing in media I consume...platonic m/f friendships can be so good. they’re both doomed at this point, but they’re going to create a safe community with the wens before they do. they’re going to plant some beautiful flowers with wen ning and communally take care of a child and co-run a refugee camp and be hunted by all cultivation sects and die for each other. you know, friendship stuff

they made mzy look ethereally beautiful with makeup and then gave her a few dirt smudges...we deserve REAL dirty women, cql

quick return to jc - maybe like jgy said in 48, he could have capitalized on wwx’s power. he could have viewed it as an unconventional but badly needed source of political standing that the jiangs could have used to their advantage. if he didn’t view it as a threat to his own power or as a reason that people thought poorly of the sect, as his inferiority complex/need to be in control/habitual underestimating of wwx’s maturity led him to believe. if he planned it out with wwx, maybe they could have stood together and protected each other. or maybe not. wwx wasn’t taking orders very consistently at this point. the sects may have targeted the entire jiang clan to eradicate the threat, which, if nothing else, would have rendered all of wwx’s sacrifices made in vain.

I never noticed before how soft lwj’s voice gets when he says he wants to bring someone back to cloud recesses and especially when he says “hide him”. it sounds a lot like “keep him safe” to me. the musical cleansing failed, lwj is starting to panic and leans towards extremes, and lxc reminds him that wwx probably won’t want to go.

and there’s probably a ton of interpretations on what lwj’s next expression means, but it’s pretty clear to me. it’s resignation, or defeat. because he knows that wwx is probably beyond his help now. his only method has been exhausted, and as long as he sticks to the rules there’s no other way he can see to divert the catastrophe he fears is is coming for wwx

and sure enough, less than 24 hours later he hears that wwx has used resentful energy to break into a jin prison camp, free the refugees, murder a bunch of guards, revive the corpse of wen ning, reject all of the cultivation world, and hole up in the burial mounds. and they meet only three more times before the end

#cql rewatch #long post #gotta say that plot point really threw me for a loop #like oh wwx youre freeing them! time for them to run off like good little plot devices and exist only #to make the hero look good #oh wait...you're going with them....you're staying with them...you're establishing a community with them...you're willing to defect for the #looks like heroism really does have a cost...and realistic consequences

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zzzoloft · 5 years

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Body Acceptance(?)

TW: Diet talk; Clothing Size

*Also a disclaimer to acknowledge my privilege as a small-fat person, and my ability to shop at the clothes offered at Target.*

I’ve been in dire need of some new clothes, but I’ve been in such a strange phase with my body.

About a year or so ago, my therapist started to slowly mention things to me like Intuitive Eating (IE) and Health at Every Size (HAES). Now I wonder how hard she had to hold back her eye-rolling while I ventured through months of off-and-on keto, excessive exercise plans, and then intermittent fasting. Not to mention all of the fatphobic language I used in reference to myself, and how much I based my life around what size of pants I could button over my belly in the sad and dusty fitting room of H&M.

I bought the Intuitive Eating book. I started it and never finished it, putting it aside for another time. Even so, I’ve tried to incorporate the principles in my own way - eat what I like, when I want, including times when I may not be physically hungry, since eating is a common method to self-soothe. Stop labeling foods as good and bad, let my body choose, and stop making food a moral issue.

That’s been relatively easy for me, considering I have yoyo’d back and forth between major restricting paired with exhausting workouts, then back to the Fuck-It Diet and cocooning in blankets for months at a time. When I wasn’t dieting, I loved food and trying new foods. One of my favorite things is the novelty of walking into a new bakery or cafe and trying a drink or pastry I’ve never heard of before. I’ve also had a pretty big issue with binge-eating and even eating out of guilt or responsibility to the person who made the food - which resulted in eating things I didn’t even like. The same goes for dieting. I ate so many foods that made me feel bad or sick, for weeks and months on end, because it was supposed to be “good” for me. It’s to the point where I can be grocery shopping and realize I’m buying the “healthy” version of something - a version I don’t even ENJOY, or I’m buying a food or a quantity of a certain food, just because I find it filling and I want to feel stuffed, which I associated with feeling “better” for so long. (I am not saying I never binge-eat. Part of Intuitive Eating is accepting that binge-eating is a very valid coping mechanism when we are feeling low or exhausted.)

In addition to the Intuitive Eating, I’ve been listening to/reading Fat Activism content, pinning Plus Size models on my Pinterest as well as following them on Instagram, because I’ve been idolizing fae-like thin girls who have never been and may never be, in a body like mine - and that goes both ways. I came out of the womb two years after my sister, with already thicker thighs. Honestly, this lead to a lot of jealousy in my younger years, and a lot of self hatred. “Clearly we have the same GENES, why am I the ‘bad’ one? It must be all my fault.” Unfortunately the message of guilt, shame and inferiority were ingrained with comments from family, friends, society at large. Granted my mother was pre-diabetic when she was carrying me, and I grew up loving all foods while my sister was a picky eater in her young years. As adults, my sister and I talked about how it seems like I grow muscle a lot faster, while she dedicated a lot of time (and joy) in a weight-lifting regimen. Maybe these things are true, maybe it’s all conditional. But despite life’s changes, we’ve stayed in our relative body shapes and sizes. The inferiority due to my size was so internalized that deep down I still wonder when I’m going to start secretly restricting again and/or over-exercising, so that I can pretend to accept myself while still assimilating. If other people commit their lives to counting their (and everyone else’s) calories, well, then I owe that to the world or I don’t deserve happiness, respect, sexual satisfaction, inclusion, and so many things denied to fat women and fat people in general. I have to shrink to fit through the metaphorical threshold into a life where I get the privileges of small-bodied women, a world where I know I’m better treated, because I shrank myself before and every interaction changed. If I could just do it a little more this time, I could be “one of those girls” - the cool girls, the pretty girls, the seemingly effortlessly likable girls. The girls that make men feel strong and masculine. The girls I always fear should be replacing me at any moment.

Because of the yoyo-ing, and because I’m still in the Fuck-It part of Intuitive Eating (eating ALL THE THINGS that I told myself were off limits or bad) I’m not even sure what my natural size is. I’ve been putting off clothes shopping, but my stomach issues cause me pain every day, and after lunch, I become so bloated that my pants and leggings, however stretchy, become so tight and begin digging into my stomach. I end up literally counting the minutes until work is over so I can go home and take off my fucking pants. As a big girl, I’ve learned that I prefer wearing tight clothes over hiding my shape. I thought it to be more “flattering” in the common meaning - making me look smaller than drape-y tops and dresses typically marketed to fat women so they could better shield themselves from ridicule by literally hiding themselves - another thing I’ve spent far too much time doing. It’s been a several-month-long internal dilemma - can I keep wearing “cute” clothes, or do I HAVE to get things that don’t suck in my thighs and stomach fat so that I can feel physically comfortable?

Honestly, I’m not fully convinced of the latter part yet. I couldn’t convince myself that saving myself from physical pain might be more important than hiding my stomach or slimming myself, because honestly, there are still some parts of me that I literally fear showing. It’s like having even more “private parts” to be in a culture that is so fatphobic. I can keep hitting like and drooling at all of the fat babes on my instagram feed, but god forbid I myself step out of the house with VBO (visible belly outline), or not smoothing out my cellulite and lower belly with some good ol’ tights!! It even feels vulnerable to admit those things, not that I think I’m fooling anyone, but just the fact that I try so hard to the point my internal organs are probably out of place from all of the compressing I put them through. I’m still assimilating like this.

Yesterday I went to Target, preparing myself that if a size doesn’t fit or look good, I don’t have to say “fuck that” - I can grab the next size up. As a teen I was most likely having panic attacks every time I had to shop in the plus-size section of a store. I squeezed and fell out of my straight-sized clothes because it saved me the shame of needing accommodation, the shame of otherness associated with shopping in different stores or sections than my classmates and my sister. I don’t recall how my mother felt, as a larger woman who from what I remembered said only mean things about her own body and was constantly trying new diets, but I felt she was ashamed in having to be there with me as well. Maybe this was just how I felt, since her clothes always fit her body, which shows she must have been shopping for her size, which wasn’t straight. Maybe culturally it seemed okay for a mom in her 40s to shop at Lane Bryant and the like, but unacceptable - a shameful failure on her and my part - to JUST make me, a kid, “normal”.

When shopping yesterday, I filled my cart with clothes all around the 12-16 range, and prepared myself to know that although that was my range before, it may be different now, it may be larger. I’ve stopped weighing myself so it really could be anywhere. Size 16 is when I used to tell myself ‘no’ and leave the store upset. I couldn’t accept my size, I couldn’t accept a stupid fucking number because culturally it determined my worth as a woman. Among all of the other stumbling blocks in my life, there was this one giant failure I always felt looming over my head that seemed to matter most in social interactions, job interviews, at school - my body size - and all of the connotations made from it.

On top of finding a ton of cute clothes to try, the dressing room attendant helped me carry them all into the fitting room, and informed me there was no item limit - BLESSED, amirite?! (I even met a nice tatted up mom with her small baby who complimented the earrings I had picked out when I apologized for thinking she was the attendant and talking to her as-so, out of the corner of my eye. She was straight-sized and told me she had a hard day of clothes-trying-on, because she didn’t know what she liked anymore. I told her I am about to turn 30 and I completely understand. Do I still like my ripped tights, booty shorts, and crop tops? Do I want to look like a snazzy bitch in a blazer and heels now?! It’s always validating to me when a thin women talks about similar issues. It’s not just me hating trying on clothes. That was a missed connection, so if you know her - get me in touch!) I despise trying on clothes, I get all sweaty and my throat starts to hurt and I seem to get all of my phonecalls and texts while I’m trying to get myself through the daunting task of zippers, buttons, turning shit right-side out, trying different combinations of clothes, and hanging them all back up in the right direction for the store employees since I’m not a heathen.

I found far too many choices for my budget, I had a huge “YES” pile, an even bigger “Maybe/Different size?!” pile, and just a few items in my “Ew/Yuck/Why is this a fabric?!” pile. The biggest change of all for me was that I put comfort first. I don’t care if my ass looked nice, if my romper made me look a few months pregnant, if a dress was cinched right at the waist to highlight my thinnest area on my body. I twirled in the dresses and strutted around in the pants, imagining and acting out scenarios from sunlight and day-drinking to sitting at my desk at the end of the day, and made sure each choice held up. And I managed to find too many items to afford, but enough to get me moving forward toward a life of accepting my body in the range it tends to buoy around, rather than the body I have when I’m treating myself like a prisoner.

This was one huge step in the right direction, and I can’t wait to appear in clothes that fit me, rather than clothes that mold me.

#haes #fat acceptance

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