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davidmann95 · 4 years

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How about those JL storyboards?

In case you haven’t heard, Zack Snyder is putting on display the ‘storyboards’ - i.e. a rough plot summary accompanied by some Jim Lee sketches - for what would have been Justice League 2 and 3, or as this puts it 2 and ‘2A’. You can see them here (I imagine better-quality versions will soon be released), and read a transcript here. This is evidently a very early version: this was apparently pitched prior to the release of BvS and Justice League being rewritten in the wake of it, with numerous plot details that now don’t line up with what we know about the Snyder Cut, plus it outright mentions it builds on the originally planned versions of the Batman and Flash movies. But it’s a broad outline of what was gonna go down, and while I initially thought it was Snyder throwing in the towel, the timing - paired with the ambiguity left by the necessity for changes, including that this doesn’t factor whatever that “massive cliffhanger” at the end of the Cut is - says to me he’s hoping this’ll be a force multiplier behind efforts to will sequel/s into existence. He’s probably right.

I’ll be discussing spoilers below, but in short: with this Zack Snyder has finally lived up to Alan Moore, in that like Twilight of the Superheroes I wouldn’t believe this was real as opposed to a shockingly on-point parody if not for direct, irrefutable evidence.

Doing some rapid-fire bullet points for this baby to kick us off:

* Folks who know the subject say a lot of this is a yet further continuation of Snyder doing Arthuriana fanfic with the League reskinned over those major players, and I’ll take their word for it.

* I don’t know whether I love or hate that in Justice League 2 the Justice League are only an extant thing for the first scene, and then it’s Snyder giving everybody their own mini-movies. It’s compressing the entire MCU “loosely interconnected solo stories leading to a single big movie later” strategy into a single movie!

* Funniest line in the whole thing: "Even Lantern has heard of the Kryptonian, worried that he's under the control of Darkseid. He heard his spirit was unbreakable." Hal what fuckin' Superman movie did YOU watch? Second funniest being “IT WILL GIVE HIM POWER OVER ALL LIVING LIFE”

* 90% of the plot I have nothing to say about, it’s generic stage-setting crap. That to be clear is the ‘shocked it’s Snyder’ element, it feels so crassly commercial in a way I can’t believe is coming from the BvS guy.

* Most of what I have to say is unsurprisingly gonna be about a handful of characters but Cyborg’s happy ending being “he isn’t visibly disabled anymore!” is not great!

* The Goddess of War battle with Superman...never pays off? No clue why it’s there.

* What I’d originally heard was that the Codex in Superman’s blood was the last key to the Anti-Life Equation and that’s why Darkseid was coming to Earth. It’s not like all of this wouldn’t have already been averted by Kal-El’s pod smacking into an asteroid on the way to Earth so it’s not as if this makes it any more Superman’s fault, and it would have at least tied all this back to the beginning of the movies, but I suppose that was either fake or from a later draft.

* I have NO idea how this was reimagined without the ‘love triangle’, it’s the central character thing and the entire climax flows directly out of it!

* Darkseid’s kinda a chump in this, huh

Anonymous said: So: Does Zack Snyder hate Superman?

Look: the hilarity of this when Cuck Kent has been a go-to Snyder cult insult towards ‘inferior’ takes on Superman for years cannot be understated, yet at the same time I can almost wrap my brain around where Snyder’s coming from with that as the end for his take on the character. He talked in that Variety piece on how his interest in Superman is informed by having adopted children himself, and Deborah Snyder is the stepmother to his kids by previous relationships, so I can see where he’d be coming from, and I can even imagine how he’d see this as ‘rhyming’ in the sense of “the series begins with Kal-El being adopted by Earth, it ends with him adopting a child of Earth!” In the same way as MARTHA, I can envision how he would put these pieces together in his head thematically without registering or caring what the end result would actually look like. In this case, Superman raising the kid of the man who beat the shit out of him who Batman had with Clark’s wife, who earlier told Bruce she was staying with Clark because he ‘needed her’, suggesting if inadvertently that this really honest to god was a “she’s only staying with Superman out of pity, she really loved Batman more” thing.

But Clark is nothing in this. He’s sad and existential because of coming back from the dead I guess, then he’s corrupted, then time’s undone and he woo-rah rallies the collective armies of the world (interesting angle for the ‘anti-military/anti-establishment’ Superman he’s talked up as) as his big heroic moment in the finale, and then he stops being sad because he’s adopting a kid. So his big much-ballyhooed, extremely necessary five-movie character arc towards truly becoming Superman was:

Sad weird kid -> sad weird kid learns he’s an alien, is still weird and sad, maybe he shouldn’t save people because things could go really wrong? -> his dad is so convinced it could go wrong he lets himself die -> ????? -> Clark is saving people anyway -> learns his origin, gets an inspiring speech about being a bridge between worlds and a costume -> becomes superman (not Superman, that’s later) to save the world, albeit a very property-damagey version, rejects his heritage he just learned about and space dad’s bridge idea -> folks hate him being superman and that sucks though at least he’s got a girlfriend now -> things go so wrong he considers not being superman but his ghost dad reminds him shit always goes wrong so he should be good anyway, which sorta feels like it contradicts his previous advice -> immediate renewed goodness is out the window as he’s blackmailed into having to try and kill a dude but the dude happens to coincidentally have some things in common so they don’t kill each other after all -> big monster now but superman keeps supermaning at it because he loves his girlfriend and he dies -> he’s brought back, wears black which apparently means now he likes Krypton again? -> he has work friends now but he’s still sad because he was dead -> evil now! -> wait nevermind time travel -> rallies the troops -> his wife’s having a kid so he’s not sad anymore -> Superman! Who gives way to more Batman.

Do I think Zack Snyder is lying when he says he likes Superman? No. I think he sincerely finds much of the basic conceits and imagery engaging. But I don’t think he meaningfully gives shit about Clark as a character, just a vessel for Big Iconic Beats he wants to hit. Whereas while for instance he’s critical of Batman as an idea (at least up to a point), he’s much more passionately, directly enamored with him as a presence and personality. So while Superman may be the character whose ostensible myth cycle or arc or however it’s spun might be propelling a lot of events here, it’s a distant appreciation - of course the other guy takes over and subsumes him into his own narrative. Of course Batman is the savior, the past and the future (though if he’s supposed to be Batman’s kid raised by Superman there’s no excuse for him not to be Nightwing), the tragic martyr to our potential. Admittedly the implication here is also that Batman can apparently only REALLY with his whole heart be willing to sacrifice his life to save an innocent, for that matter apparently his great love, once said innocent is a receptacle for his Bat-brood, but he and Clark are both already irredeemable pieces of shit by the end of BvS so it’s not like this even registers by comparison.

Anonymous said: That “plan” Snyder had was utter dogshit. Picture proof that DC & WB hate Superman. Also I love how you’re like Jor-El: Every single idealistic take you had about Snyder, his fandom, and BvS was wrong. Snyder’s an edgy hack, his fanbase just wants to jerk off to their edgy self-insert Batgod as he screams FUCK while mowing people down with machine guns, and the idea that BvS said Superman was better than Bats was completely wrong. You know what comes next SuperMann: Either you die or I do.

In the final analysis, beyond that mother of god is there sure no conceivable excuse for the treatment of Lois in this? The temptation is to join that anon and say as I originally tweeted that these were “built entirely to disabuse every single redemptive reading of the previous work and any notion of these movies as nuanced, artistic, self-reflective, or meaningful”.

...

...yeah, okay, that’s mostly right. Zack Snyder’s vision really was the vision of an edgelord idiot with bad ideas who was never going to build up to anything that would reframe it all as a sensible whole. He’s a sincere edgelord genuinely trying really hard with his bad ideas who put some of them together quite cleverly! But they’re fucking bad and the endgame was never anything more than ramping up into smashing the action figures together as big as he could, the political overtones and moral sketchiness of BvS while trying to say something in that movie reverberated through the grand scheme of his pentalogy in no way beyond giving his boys a big sad pit to rise out of so when they kicked ass later it’d rule harder, and all the gods among men questions and horror and trappings were only that: trappings. Apparently he’s really pleasant and well-meaning in person, but at his core his art as embodied in a couple weeks in his 4-hour R-rated Justice League movie meant to be seen in black-and-white all comes down to that time he yelled at someone on Twitter that he couldn’t appreciate Snyder’s work because it’s for grown-ups. He made half-clever, occasionally exciting shit cape movies for a bunch of corny pseudo-intellectual douchebags, folks latching onto and justifying blockbusters that at least acknowledge how horrifying the world is right now even if the superheroes are basically useless in the face of it if not outright part of the problem until a convenient alien invasion shows up to justify them, and a handful of non-asshole smart people who vibe with it but...well. ‘Suckered’ is a harsh word, and definitely doesn’t apply to all of them re: what they’ve gotten out of it up to this point and would (somehow) get out of this. But it doesn’t apply to none of them, either.

#Justice League #Zack Snyder #Superman #Batman #DCEU #Opinion

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wiltingofthewhitelily · 3 years

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{Hetalia Platonic Ships Week 2021} Day 7: Free Day - Iceland & Latvia

A/N: Submission #7 for @hetaliaplatonicshipsweek!

Aaaaand the last day! I was originally planning to do Canada and Cuba (a platonic pairing I just adore) for this day until I realized I didn't actually have any solid story ideas for them :')

Sooo I chose Iceland and Latvia instead, because I imagine the two to be pretty good friends. This is just a high school au (bc as many of y'all know I'm a sucker for them) that I came up with one day while sitting in class lol. You can choose to see this as taking place in the same universe as the fic I wrote for family week (the Anko Family submission for Day 5, Embarrassment) if you wish, bc everything lines up pretty much to a T. Also, my demiboy Iceland hc is back, so he/they pronouns again.

Also, here's the reference for human names again (though most of these characters are only briefly mentioned):

Emil - Iceland

Raivis - Latvia

Leon - Hong Kong

Michelle - Seychelles

Mei - Taiwan

Lili - Liechtenstein

Ok, I hope you guys enjoy!

»»————-　➴　————-««

Being a librarian's aide at a high school wasn't nearly as bad as it appeared on the surface—well, at least for Emil it wasn't. It was always nice and quiet (for obvious reasons, since it was a library), and it allowed him to get out of a couple of boring classes which he didn't even need to take since he'd already received all the credits for them. Plus, the librarian herself was always very nice and even gave him free coffee and donuts from the teacher's lounge on most days. So, needless to say, Emil actually liked being her aide very much.

It wasn't even that much work, honestly. Not that much work at all. Usually just stacking returned books back on the bookshelf and taking out papers from the printer and giving them to students and teachers. Emil didn't have to interact with too many other kids as there were only a couple of other aides—a senior girl who was the librarian's secretary, and a boy named Raivis who Emil was pretty sure was a sophomore. Raivis basically did the same tasks as Emil, placing books on the bookshelf and whatnot.

Raivis was a curly-haired brunet who was very short for his age, barely even coming up to Emil's shoulder; he had a round boyish face that added to his middle-schooler look. Though he seemed to be a pretty quiet kid, just like Emil, since the two worked together they evidently had to communicate with each other sometimes—and honestly, Emil really enjoyed talking with him. He seemed to have a lot of the same interests as Emil—video games, indie music, hell, he even liked science fiction novels too—and a similar personality to them. Emil wouldn't exactly consider themselves close enough to Raivis to consider him a friend, probably just a very good acquaintance; however, they definitely saw the potential for friendship. It was there.

Sometimes Emil wondered if Raivis even had any other friends, as they'd never seen the boy really talk to anybody else. They wondered where he sat at lunch and tried to recall countless times if they'd ever seen him at lunch with anybody else (at their school, all juniors and sophomores had the same lunch period, so Emil knew that they had lunch with Raivis).

Anyway, on one Thursday morning Emil and Raivis were in the library, organizing books in the—what do you know—science fiction section. They had set their uneaten donuts and coffee on a nearby table and were just talking and laughing among each other, as well as sharing some of the good books they'd found that they happened to have read in the past. Emil made a mental note of all the reading suggestions Raivis had given him. I'm gonna have to check out those books when Mrs. Newman lets me pick some out again, Emil thought to himself (Mrs. Newman referring to the librarian). Another perk to being a librarian's aide was that they got to pick out more books than the other students, about three to five every other week.

Everything was going okay until these two boys who Emil had never seen in the library before casually walked up to the table that had the two's donuts and coffee and sat in the chairs.

However, Emil just kept their attention on Raivis, who was laughing as he told them about this one dystopian book, holding it up so Emil could see. "Yeah! And the best part is when—" Raivis stopped talking abruptly when he noticed the two boys there; his eyes grew wide and he got a...scared look on his face? Hurriedly, he shoved the book back in its spot on the shelf, averting his eyes from the boys and holding Emil's arm loosely, trying to guide him away from the section they were at. "Um...how about let's go sort out the encyclopedias," Raivis suggested quickly.

Emil cocked his eyebrows, now very confused. "But what about our food?"

However, Raivis didn't respond and instead continued to try to push Emil away from the boys.

"Hey, short stack!"

Raivis visibly cringed at the voice of one of the boys. This prompted him, as well as Emil to lift their heads up. One of the kids was cackling annoyingly, while the other one had carelessly taken a bite out of one of Raivis' donuts.

Seeing this latter action immediately caused Emil to furrow their eyebrows. "Hey, what the heck?" they said sternly. "That's Raivis' food."

The kid who'd eaten Raivis' donut snickered. "Yeah, no shit, Dad."

"Emil, just leave them alone..." Raivis said quietly, still holding onto their arm.

Emil ignored him and, though his heart was pounding nearly out of his chest with nerves, he continued to try to set the two boys straight. "I'm going to tell Mrs. Newman if you two don't stop," he threatened.

The other boy, who'd started to drink Raivis' coffee, set his cup down and made mocking jazz hands. "Ooo—Mrs. Newman. I'm so scared," he said sarcastically.

Emil shot the two one last glare and went up to the front of the library to do what he'd just said he would do—tell Mrs. Newman. As he began to walk, he heard the sounds of pounding footsteps, splashing, and then a high-pitched wail that could only belong to one person. Emil whipped his head around and gasped. The kid with the coffee had dumped the entire beverage onto Raivis' head; it was dripping from his hair, and onto the floor.

Now simmering with anger, Emil stomped up to the two kids—he was about to yell something until he heard one of the boys snort loudly and then run up to place the now-empty cup of coffee into Emil's hand. The ash-blond didn't have time to be too confused; he was much more concerned for Raivis at that moment. He prepared to yell at the two boys to get the hell out (he honestly didn't care at that point that they were in a library) before he heard a voice behind him: "Hey! What are you two doing?"

The teens all looked toward the voice and saw Mrs. Newman standing there, hands on her hips, her expression very angry looking—though not at Emil and Raivis, rather at the boy that'd spilled coffee on Raivis' head, as well as his friend.

The two boys, though they'd just mocked Mrs. Newman a mere few minutes prior, stood there, scared, until they glanced at each other briefly and then dashed out of the large library doors. Emil smirked internally as they saw this. Now they're afraid, huh? they thought to themselves.

Mrs. Newman stared at the boys like a hawk as they ran out into the halls, but once they were out of eyesight she turned to Raivis, her face instantly growing from full of anger to full of concern. She walked up slowly to the boy, gently placing her hand on a part of his arm that'd been untouched by the coffee. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

Raivis shrugged his shoulders slowly, his face looking so solemn, so pitiful. "It's fine..."

The tall blonde woman turned to Emil then. "Honey, will you take him to the office to get a fresh change of clothes?" she asked. "He will probably need to use one of the showers in the gym too...can you walk with him, please?"

Emil nodded instantly. "Yeah. Sure thing."

Mrs. Newman smiled back. "Thank you."

Soon, the two teens were walking off to do just that. Raivis was very quiet all the way to the office—which Emil could understand one hundred percent. Poor kid must've felt so embarrassed. He decided he wouldn't make the situation any worse for him and kept his mouth shut, too. They swiftly went to the office to get some spare clothes and then got the clear to go down to the gym bathroom so Raivis could wash up.

The two got to the gym and were standing in front of the door to the bathroom; Raivis glanced up at Emil, his face a little pink. "Um," he began, holding his hand out a little, "could you give me the clothes?"

"Oh, yeah," Emil replied, handing Raivis the sweatpants and t-shirt.

Raivis nodded his thanks and headed on in. After he shut the door, Emil just decided to sit against the wall and wait for him while he showered and changed.

Nearly thirty minutes later, Raivis finally came back out. Emil looked up, put his phone back in his pocket, and then stood up. "How was it?" he asked the sophomore.

Raivis sighed deeply; his eyes were very close to watering, even though he looked and smelled as fresh as a daisy. "Um...okay I guess," he answered, voice quavering a little. "There was a lot of coffee on me."

Emil nodded, but tsk-tsked. He began to walk out of the gym, and Raivis followed close behind. "Who even were those kids?" Emil asked.

Raivis shrugged, looking down at his toes. "Eh, just some kids from my grade. They're jerks."

Emil bit his lip. "Seems like it. I can't believe they put that coffee cup in my hands like they were trying to frame me or something," he said. He laughed, a bit bitterly.

Despite himself, Raivis managed to chuckle a little. "Yeah. Don't they know Mrs. Newman has cameras in there? She could've checked them if she really wanted to."

Emil snorted. "I know, right?"

It was silent for a moment afterward, with Raivis gulping loudly every now and then. Emil turned their head, noticing this. He cocked an eyebrow, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Raivis (who Emil could tell now was definitely on the verge of crying) sniffled and rubbed at his face. "Yeah," he answered, voice hushed. "It's just...thank you, Emil. No one has ever stood up for me like that."

The boy's voice was so sincere that Emil had to grin. "It's no problem—really."

"You're a great friend," Raivis added.

Emil's heart was warmed at that—they didn't know if it was just the way he said it, or the knowledge that he actually thought of them as a friend. He answered warmly nonetheless. "Thank you. You are too."

Raivis glanced at him and gave the most genuine smile Emil thought he'd ever seen on the younger teen.

"Hey, where do you normally sit at lunch?" Emil asked Raivis, just out of curiosity.

Raivis' smile fell a bit. "Oh...well, I normally just sit outside," he said quietly.

"Alone?" The word seemed to echo in the empty hallway, though it might've just been Emil's imagination.

Raivis nodded a bit solemnly. Emil grew the same solemn expression for a moment before asking, "Hey, would you like to sit with me and my friends at lunch?"

Raivis looked up then, eyebrows shooting up. "Really?"

Emil nodded, cracking a small smile. "Yeah. I sit with my best friend, Leon, and then my other friends, Michelle, Mei, and Lili. Leon's really cool; Michelle and Mei might seem a bit...much at first, but they're really nice and cool too."

Raivis' expression slowly began to brighten the more he heard Emil talk, until he paused. "...Are you sure that's okay? I wouldn't wanna ruin your guys' lunch..."

"Trust me, you won't," Emil assured instantly.

The sophomore paused for a minute, as if thinking. "...Okay. I'll sit with you guys."

Emil grinned. "Good. I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

The two continued to walk back to the office to get passes for their next class in comfortable silence, the content feeling one feels after finding a new friend overwhelming both of them.

#hetalia #hetaliaplatonicshipsweek #hetalia event #hetalia fanfiction #fanfiction #aph iceland #hws iceland #aph latvia #hws latvia

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faakeid · 3 years

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fab nygmobblepot moments that remind you of kd uwu

OMGGGG AHDAHDUIADHAD

I want to use this moment to be sorry to everyone that follows me but keeps seeing my blog full of Nygmobs/Smaylor instead of kaisoo. I usually don’t get attached to otps like this and it happened in an unexpected way for me. But it’s here and I need to compensate for all the years I didn’t watch Gotham and had no idea about Nygmobs spamming everyone and making my heart warm.

But in general, nygmobblepot isn’t a vision of ideal relationship. Both Edward and Oswald (their surnames Cobblepot and Nygma were the ones who originated this name) are stupid and do stupid shit to each other during most of the series. So, a lot of moments related with the actors counterpart (Robin is the actor who plays Oswald and Cory who plays Ed) reminds me of kaisoo more. But a warning here! Although they have a HUGE chemistry on and off screen, they’re mostly friends. Robin is married for almost ten years so it doesn’t mean their closeness is romantic or sexual. But still, some details remind me of kd.

Similarities with nygmobs:

Height difference: it applies to Smaylor as well because it’s their height but it’s really visible in the series. Cory is a bit taller than JI I think and Robin is like 1.65 but KS is not that taller (I can’t believe he’s 1.73 at all, sorry). But, again, this factor is evident during the series and in some moments and it’s cute.

(the way he moves his feet to reach Ed’s head ;_;)

(when they hug, Oswald barely reaches his shoulders [their hugs are the equivalent to kisses in Gotham])

the closest gif I could find where we can see kd’s height difference without me stealing other people’s gifs.

Penguin reference? That’s pretty obvious. Of course I didn’t start shipping nygmobs because one of them is small and has the Penguin nickname but it made so much easier for me to read some of their fics with kd as characters because they fit the profile so much! And also, I believe KD would totally fit the “murder husbands” couple if someone did a fanfic where they just kill everyone. The closest I remember of a fanfic with this criteria is Juice Pouche where Kyungsoo is a vampire and he protects Jongin and Jongin is kind of badass as well. But the kd fandom needs more fics like this. There’s also “(Before the night is over) come see me” where KS is also a vampire and JI a young werewolf but it focuses more on their relationship than a murder husbands idea Gotham shows so well.

How they met: Gotham’s history has a lot of differences if you compare with other universes, so keep that in mind. In Gotham, Ed works with GCPD but doesn’t feel like himself with the good side. Oswald is the character that spices things up and is a rage of death and destruction and manipulation. But Oswald is infatuated with Jim Gordon (so isn’t the first time it’s implied Penguin is gay) but he goes to the police department to see him. Ed sees him and wants to talk to him no matter the cost. And he does that... And things don’t end that friendly for him because Oswald thinks he’s a weirdo and asks him to fuck off, basically. It reminded me of kd’s first meeting where KS was the one admiring JI all along but JI get frightned. But, during their second meeting, they bond and become friends. For Nygmobs it takes more time for their second meeting but they end up developing and being in good terms :’)

Their personas, sort of: Ed is the tall one, younger and logic. Oswald is the oldest, smaller and that thinks with his heart. I love how JI could show the more logic side of himself during the last few years and, again, while reading Nygmobs fics using kd names, it was easy to fit the profile for me (that was during the time I wasn’t too deep into nygmobs and I didn’t knok them that well. KS looks cold and deatached and that’s why many people got impressed when he said, during Knowing Bros that he would choose love over friendship. He doesn’t play the part but, considering all the context, it fits him pretty well and reading this description of Oswald made me so familiar because it fits KD well. Ofc I don’t know their private lives and whatever but it’s just the impression I had as a viewer and random person;

Drama issue: when I say drama here, it’s related with how people percieve the two OTPs and how different people visualize LGBT relationship in media. Nygmobblepot had a lot of drama involved because they’re the fucking Riddler and Penguin, two of the most famous Batman villains. People saw them in different sorts of media before and others idolize those characters because of videogames and comics. So, when Oswald mentioned expressedly that he was in love with Edward, it caused an uproar in the fandom. People accused the producers and Robin of messing with the comic canon because the fucking Penguin became gay??? Robin was outspoken about the homophobia behind those statements since he’s a gay man himself but yeah, the drama existed. Part of the people invovled with the series rooted for Nygmobblepot, including some writers and the actors (Cory was the one with ambiguous messages about the nature of their relationship but it’s not even close what happened with other series like Supergirl, Supernatural and Sherlock). But it was aired by FOX, a right wing channel and, as you may imagine, they didn’t become canon per se. Actually, after Oswald said he was in love with Ed and planned on confessing to him, the writers presented a clone of Ed’s ex girlfriend with no explanation and purpose, only to separate them for most part of the series future. After that, some people seemed to have FORGOTTEN Oswald was once in love with Edward, rationalizing many things that are hard to explain with a “bro explanation”, they had a scene where the characters would have evolved even more but it was CUTTED and CHANGED and execs added the sentence “we’re brothers” to make EXPLICIT that Nygmobblepot’s relationship wouldn’t be interpreted as a romance at the end of the series (but, honestly, the actors went for the romance path anyway, the deleted scenes and the final episode can’t convince me otherwise).

What’s related with KD, may you ask? I think you’re familiar with all the drama KD faced since 2016 and how many stuff exploded during that time. How many parts are involved into creating a certain image and shifting it to be appealing and “friendly” is similar with what happens with idols. It’s no secret now about many scandals of bullying and other issues that are considered problematic and how they need to be pushed under the rug for companies so idols can make money and be profitable. Especially for male idols, it’s important that they are viewed as desirable and an object of the fans affections. That’s why he needs to be handsome and kind and look like a person that doesn’t exist. If an idol is openly gay, this person isn’t viewed by the major public with the same interest because they can’t fit the fantasy. That’s why scandals involving idols being gay need to be forgotten and deleted from people’s minds, otherwise that celebrity is ostracized. Although we tend to see the Ocident as “progressive”, there’s similar things happening in that industry. If a celebrity is openly LGBT, they don’t receive certain roles or opportunities because of it. There’s still a huge stigma that needs to be broken and we, as a society, are so far way from it. But recognizing those differences exist it’s a step forward.

Similarities with Smaylor

For me, one of the reasons Nygmobblepot works so well is because of the actors. They portrait a good chemistry because of their friendship off screen and some non verbal signs they display around each other are amazing. Those are things that remind me more of KD as we see them in a lot of moments. So, I wanted space to show those comparisons below:

Mutual admiration: it’s something both Smaylor and KD display a LOT and is extrememly outspoken. I really love watching their old interviews because the affection and admiration is so genuine it makes me drawn to them despite not being romantically involved.

(full gifset)

(there are more moments than these but I don’t want to steal gifs and there’s not much on the gif research and that sucks. Same with KD’s).

Stares and touches: Robin was the responsible for the deep stares and Cory for the random touches. There’s so many gifs of it that is hilarious. It’s like JI divided himself in two cells because we know he’s more known for both >.<

(Cory was touching Robin all the way during this interview rip)

(the gifset!!!)

You’re pretty moment: Robin, like KS, is the one that mentions about Cory/JI’s physical attributes. They have a moment pretty similar and, for KD its famous among shippers:

(gif link)

(actually, Robin called Cory dashingly handsome but its okay)

Cory lost it

There’s another series of gifsets with Robin calling Cory handsome LMAOO

:))))

Synchronization: for specialists in body language, it’s a factor that shows two people are close. That’s because of the mirror neurons we have that makes us copy movements, actions or words that someone we have empathy/we are close with do or say. Both kd and smaylor do this and it’s really soft.

(one of the classics)

(classic 2)

whole gifset (i love this interview so much)

(gif)

The fact the actors came up with their OTP names: people tend to forget that KD’s real otp name (according with Jongin) is dika. Cory also came up with Nygmobblepot name and Smaylor too <3

So, meanwhile Nygmobs has thropies that work a lot with KD AUs, Smaylor has healthy dynamics seen in public appearances KD made. Like I said above, there’s a huge polemic about shipping Smaylor romantically because Robin is married. On social media, is visible he loves his husband and it’s pretty cute to see. Cory himself mentioned that their relationship was sort of a platonic friendship (whatever that means) but it’s really genuine in terms of affections and display of admiration, something KD has as well.

Probably someone will question that it may changed the way I see KD or if now I ship them as bros. Nothing about that changed. With KD, although there are some similar details, there are internal AND external factors that made me support them in a romantic perspective in the first place. And it didn’t change.

But both of them (Nygmobs too) make me feel that I’m testimoning something genuine, which is really hard in both kpop and media universes. In one side, we have a LOT of fanservice. And, in the other, it’s mostly a work interaction with lots of queerbating. Yes, Gotham has queerbating aspects in it but it’s not full of queerbating, if it makes sense. The message the actors and some writers wanted to convey are there and really display a romantic direction with character evolution and growth. And, considering the way media is nowadays, it’s nice to see.

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yanderecandystore · 4 years

Note

Reader is alone in their room throwing a rubber ball against the wall which at one point rolls away but is returned to them. Looking up they see a single eye ball, Buddy is slowly making themselves visible again. Buddy is covered in healed scars and wound. A soft whine and a wag of a tail. Black and Red pop in for the daily check up and see whats going on Remeber self care is best care :o - Cold Anon

Thanks for caring for me Cold, but like- You really do be breaking my heart with these beautiful angst concepts ;^;

TW/Tags: Feels (angst lol) // mentions of animal abuse // d r a m a (also a little different from what you originally thought off-) // cursing // plot twist that was pulled straight out of my ass- (I can't blame y'all if this seem boring or uninteresting lol, but it was the only plot twist that I felt like it was fitting).

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Broken smile [Yandere!Among Us x Reader - Headcanon]:

Can you imagine your shock at seeing the familiar eyes looking at your own with nothing but relief and sorrow? Can you imagine seeing your little warrior walking inside your room slowly and clumsy due to his wounds.

You jump out of bed and go hug your best friend, despite knowing fully well that he hasn't recovered fully from whatever hell he clearly went through. He was anticipating the impact but it still hurts him despite his best efforts to hold it in-

You haven't come off of your bedroom that day, most of the crew was too busy to notice that you weren't doing your tasks, but of course they would notice before everyone else-

"- Babe, have you seen [Y/N] anywhere? I have a feeling we haven't talked much."

"- That's because we didn't. They haven't gotten out of their room ever since this morning-"

"- What?? Black, you should have told me sooner, come on, we need to see if they're okay- Wait!"

"- W-What is it??"

"- Where…. Black, where is M.Red?"

Instead of going straight to checking how you were they decided to search for their child since Mini Red just suddenly disappeared-

They eventually found him, and scolded the young child for giving both of his parents a heart attack, when asked where he was, M.Red said something quite surprising:

"- I was playing doctor with the doggie!"

You heard loud bagging on your door, you didn't really expect anyone to call you so late, they probably noticed you haven't attend to any of the tasks in the spaceship (although let's be honest, you're more surprised it took them 24 hours to notice that instead of realizing your lack of presence sooner-).

You recognized that friendly family that you have grown to appreciate over the past month, Red and Black has been nothing but sweet with you and M.Red is such a energetic kid-

You didn't want to get out of your room, so instead you welcomed them in, and as soon as their eyes looked at the medicines and the space canine laying on top of it all covered in wounds, they understood what happened.

He came back. The stupid dog came back, yet in their hearts there was nothing like hate or anger at the sight of the severely damaged dog.

No, on the contrary, there was pity inside them mixed with somewhat of a relief.

Well, don't get me wrong, they hate your dog still, he is nothing more than an immense rock in their path yet there is something so, well, "heartwarming" about seeing you reunited.

It's so fun to see their loved one so happy even if it's because of… That dog.

You didn't come out of your room at all that day, you just wanted to be with your friend and take care of him, you took first-aid kits on medbay to take care of his untreated wounds. Buddy came back all patched up yet whoever did it clearly didn't do a good job at it in the first place! You were glad someone at least tried to help, yet there was something very worrying about his condition-

If someone tried to fix him up, it was because he was hurt in the first place. Buddy is a smart boy yet he wouldn't be able to properly recover those wounds on his own.

So when you brought the topic to them, you didn't expect a small hand be raised in such a excited way- M.Red was so proud of his work despite the fact he doesn't know anything about treating a wounded space animal, and honestly he didn't care- He saw it all as a fun game, in his eyes finding the dog in such a small and convenient finding place was nothing but a fun game, he not only found a good hiding spot to play hide and seek with Black, but also the dog, which he only saw as a toy.

To put it promptly, Buddy was waiting to die by the hands of the gremlin child, yet he was delightfully surprised to see the child so excited about helping him get his wounds treated, despite the fact they did it for their own twisted little amusement. At least the kid liked him more than his parents did.

Both of his parents were hesitant in letting you know that their kid had found the dog before you did, since it could be considered kinda weird for their kid to be able to find your dog in a isolated tiny spot of the spaceship that was completely off the cameras view and only accessible by the ventilation system- They lied about their child randomly founding the dog walking around instead of actually founding the filthy thing's hiding place.

No one can go in the vents unless they were small or a shapeshifting monster, and their child just happened to be both at the same time-

Either way, after finally being reunited with your dog, everyone expected things to go back to normal, even Buddy seemed tired of this nonsense, yet things never did go back to the way they were.

It was interesting how much of an impact you had on your crew. People didn't give you that much attention, yet whenever you changed your behavior it seemed to take over the entire mood of the ship. You may be thinking I'm exaggerating, yet it's not hard to believe it, is it?

After all, think about it, your dog just came back hurt from something that has done a great deal of damage to him. Something or someone made him hide away from everyone else so he could catch a break.

Buddy was a brave boy yet he was careful enough to see when a fight wasn't worth fighting. Buddy ran away and managed to hide for so long, he must have seen something or someone that was capable of scaring him from even coming back unprepared.

You mentioned that at your meeting and everyone seemed shocked at your claims, and even more surprised by how you sounded so… Angry. You sounded like someone that was calm now, yet was holding enough anger to fight anyone if not everyone in the cafeteria if they gave you the smallest hints of being the one that has hurted your doggie.

Even though he was kinda weirded out by your demeanor, the poor thing thought that he had caused you so much pain that him coming back wasn't the best thing he should have done. You were the same person as when he ran away, yet you sounded so mad…

And you rightfully were. You have been beating yourself up and feeling depressed thinking your sweet boy has died and when he comes back he is wounded to the point of not being able to walk properly. You have every right to want to beat the shit of whoever did this, even if they weren't human to begin with.

You felt like you had every right to judge every single person sitting in front of you, anyone in this room could have hurted Buddy and you knew it. The arguing was so strong that you had to be calmed down by Red, Black and Buddy at the same time.

One person in particular seemed to be pointing you out as "obviously the killer" that has orchestrated this whole charade as a way to throw everyone off, you almost did slap a bitch that day-

Others seem to understand your condition. You literally just lost your dog and he came back all bloodied and wounded. You were hurt and pissed at whoever the culprit was, even if you weren't sure of who it was.

And there was a strong intuition indicating that maybe the culprit that hurted your dog, was also the monster going around killing your crewmates. But sadly, Buddy has also changed after the incident.

Buddy didn't seem to recognize who.was the culprit, and if he could have blamed Red and Black, he knew that it was neither of them that had attacked him. Someone else has taken him by surprise, and was smart enough to cover their scent and human disguise, so he wouldn't recognize them if he managed to get away. Which he is glad he did, yet he is afraid he won't be of any help this time around.

He could blame Red and Black, since clearly they were going around killing everyone, but he somehow knew that they weren't involved with his case. He felt like it would be unfair to put the blame on them for his case in particular, they should still be thrown off of the spaceship but not for him.

But for all the different people they killed along the way.

And also… Maybe he did feel pity for the child, maybe he just felt like he was in debt with the kid for helping him out- Maybe if the circumstances were different he could have been friends with the little rascal (if the child had also decent parents and a therapist-).

You seemed to have noticed how Buddy hasn't openly barked at anyone, how he hasn't pointed anyone out yet, which was a little disheartening since it meant that this would be a lot harder than expected, yet you hadn't given up yet, you were determined to make justice for your dog, for everyone that had died.

Some of your crew were with you, some weren't, yet you didn't care at all- You would make sure to take care of your boy with more love and affection, you won't let this happen to him ever again.

And while you had found some sort of hope from this situation, Red and Black were concerned if not freaked out at the idea that someone else had started a hunting spree, and apparently with you and your dog as their target.

Red had asked their son if he was the one to hurt the canine, yet he said that he found him like that, hurt and bleeding. Black was feeling anxious as he couldn't smell the scent of someone of his kind hiding in between them, I'd they were also disguising themselves, it meant that they were being extra careful by flooding themselves with extra scents to blend in with everyone else.

This was way more than concerning, it meant they were in danger, you were in danger! And the culprit was being one step ahead from everyone else, since they have probably already found out about Black being an alien that has also invaded the ship, and that Red and M.Red were involved with the killings.

There were apparently three imposters among your crewmates.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Okay sorry Cold, but now I noticed that although I tried to compile your both asks into one, it feels like I may have not done the best ;-; I'm sorry. I could totally redo it and make the Reader sick and all- If you wish boo

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere headcanon #yandere among us headcanon #yandere among us x reader #yandere among us #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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planetesastraea · 4 years

Text

On the tip of his fingers

Geraskier, Modern AU - Mature - 6 277 words - Warnings: none

First meetings, himbo Geralt, bisexual Geralt (even if he’s just finding out), bottom Geralt (that too), top Jaskier, first time, handjobs, banter, praise kink, consent kink

Betaed by Micaela Dawn: she’s a wonderful artist and beta, check out her work!

Read on AO3

The bar was oddly crowded for a Wednesday night and Geralt was trying his best to not look as out of place as he felt. He had to be there, were Yen's words. And once Triss and Sabrina heard he was trying to get out of the team’s celebratory night out, his fate had been sealed.

"You deserve this too," Yen had said. “You’ve been working your ass off as much as we’ve all been and you deserve to blow off some steam.”

“I can blow off some steam at home.”

“Playing Skittles-stake Gwent with our teenage daughter doesn’t count. Also you promised you’d spend more time with the team outside of work-”

“I actually never agreed to that,”

“-so you’re coming.”

And so here he was, wearing one of his black button down shirts and a comfortable pair of jeans with an empty beer bottle in his hand, making casual conversation over the slightly too-loud music and praying to the highest powers that the girls wouldn’t try to get him to dance. Triss and Yen had met him in front of the bar to make sure he wouldn’t turn away once he had a look inside the place. As soon as he had been close enough, Triss had reached a hand out to his collar, making a tsk sound.

“What are we going to do with you, hm?”, she had whispered to herself as she had opened the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled his collar a little wider.

“Hey, be gentle,” Yen had cut in softly. “At least he lost the tie.”

They had cackled in unison as he rolled his eyes, yet unable to fake annoyance as a smile drew itself on his lips. With one of the women clinging to each of his arms, the three of them comfortably slid together as they walked into the place.

He liked being around them. Over the years things had been several levels of complicated and then some, but the three of them had found their pace eventually. Triss and Yen liked to mock him and he liked to act dumber than he actually was- well, most of the time. His social skills still didn’t reach that high.

As it turned out, you could learn a lot about people by staying at the office several nights in a row working a gigantic case, taking turns on who would get to doze off for twelve minutes on the couch and who was to blame for the soy sauce on page 86 of the Claremont contract. And damn did Triss and Yen know him well. Which was why they had dutifully waited for him outside the bar. Claiming he looked for them but gave up because of how packed the place was would definitely have been among his top three excuses to go back home and relieve Eskel of his Uncle duties. (Both he and Ciri would have been terribly disappointed and that was about 75% of the reasons why he had made it to the party).

They had been here for a couple of hours now, had done a good amount of talking and heard some more-than-other alright bands take to the stage. One of the junior associates further away from him called “Hey, here’s Sabrina!!” and Geralt turned towards the sound of Sabrina’s voice going “You guys are not going to believe this!” when something, or, well, someone, slammed right into him.

“Owww, holy shit I’m so sorry, you alright?”

The man was carrying two pints that had probably been full to the brim before he collided with Geralt. Luckily most of what spilled had hit the floor (he didn't need a repeat of the 2017 "Wet-Shirt Contest Winner" from when a sink pipe had blown up in the men's room. Lambert had walked in, taken a thousand pictures and emailed memes to the whole floor for weeks).

Geralt’s shoes had been fairly sticky with booze already so it wasn't much trouble.

“I’m fine,” he said and that’s when he noticed the other man had come to a full stop, eyes locked on him intently, lips slightly parted. The eyeliner around his eyes was a bit smeared and Geralt recognized him as one of the singers from earlier.

“That you are,” he murmured in a low tone, almost to himself. Geralt blinked.

“Yes. I am,” he said back louder in hope to maybe clear out the odd look on the other man’s face. Just because he was tall, well-built and, well, apparently, somewhat broody, people expected him to get pissed at the slightest things.

“I’m Julian," the guy said and Geralt smiled politely, unsure why the stranger would introduce himself.

“Geralt,” he replied at the same time Julian went “But you can call me Jaskier!” and then “I’m sorry, what was that?”

It was like his words were running faster than his thoughts.

“Geralt. My name is Geralt,” he repeated.

“Oh. Nice to meet you, Geralt.” Jaskier’s lips rose to one side and he tilted his head slightly. Geralt was way more used to people trying to avoid looking at him, he had his unusual colored eyes to thank for that. They were easily disturbing and while people didn't always show discomfort, they at least showed restraint. Jaskier didn't have an ounce of it and Geralt had absolutely no idea what to do with that.

“Can I get you another drink?” Jaskier blurted out.

“Mine was already empty. That’s your drink on the floor,” Geralt replied as the other man chuckled, eyes looking down briefly.

“Right,” he raised his eyes and licked his lips. “Offer still stands. Can I get you another drink?”

“Hm,” Geralt said, his well-known wording skills kicking in. “My friends are-” he turned around thinking he’d find Anica and Tiff where he had left them only to realise they had disappeared among the crowd. In the far back he recognized Triss and Yen dancing on a table like nothing in the world could stop them and any back-up plan he was about to use evaporated.

Jaskier raised his eyebrows, eyes twinkling. Give other people a chance, Yen’s voice said in Geralt's head and the line of his shoulders softened. Jaskier’s eyes hadn’t moved from him for even a second. Maybe it wasn’t that bad.

“Sure,” Geralt aimed for a neutral tone but sounded nervous even to his own ears. The other man’s smile widened.

They found two empty stools that felt oddly closer than those in Geralt’s bars usually were - but then again most of Geralt’s bars were hotel lobbies on work trips or the kind where he could take a whole bottle for himself and sit in a corner where no one would dare bother him. (He hadn't been in one of those in a while. He didn’t miss it.)

Jaskier set an ale in front of him and Geralt faintly wondered who it was originally destined for.

“So what are you doing here tonight? I’ve never seen you around,” Jaskier started.

“Celebrating,” he said, in a voice that hardly sounded celebratory.

“Is it your birthday?”

“No,” he replied, vaguely gesturing to his group of friends who were lost to the crowd, “with colleagues. We closed in on a deal."

"What kind of business do you work in?" The other man seemed way more interested in learning about Geralt than actually drinking the ale. Geralt shrugged, a wordless version of his usual ‘hm’.

“All of them. We're a law firm.”

“Oh! Well, congrats by the way!" Jaskier said and then leaned in and using a secretive tone he added, "I mean, you didn’t help a dangerous criminal get away with it, did you?”

Geralt grimaced and prepared himself to lose Jaskier’s interest in his job entirely.

“Not that kind of lawyers.”

“What kind, then?”

“Corporate.”

To his surprise, Jaskier kept nodding.

“So what was the deal about? Please tell me you’re the kind of firm on David’s side and not on Goliath's.”

“It’s rarely as straightforward as that,” Geralt mused and took a drink of his ale.

Jaskier hummed softly.

“What was this one anyway?”

“I can’t disclose any details,” he hedged and Jaskier chuckled.

“Oh, you can’t disclose any details, can you?” he leaned again, this time his arm and shoulder pressing against Geralt's.

“No, I can’t,” Geralt articulated again to make sure Jaskier would hear him. Music rarely ever left anyone’s hearing intact after a few years, maybe that was why the man kept leaning closer.

“Anything I’ll hear about on the news?”

“The local ones, maybe.”

“Well aren't you a man of mystery.” Their shoulders bumped again. Geralt didn't remember at which point he had rolled up his sleeves but his forearms felt oddly comfortable being that close to someone else's skin. It had been a while since he had even given thought to someone else's skin.

There was still a band playing on the stage out of his sight, a crowd surrounding them, people all along the bar calling for the bartender’s attention, noises and lights everywhere and yet, somehow, in the ocean of stimuli, his attention was focused on Jaskier.

"Maybe I should take your number then?" Jaskier said, wriggling an eyebrow. "As legal counsel. For when law enforcement catches up with me."

“What would they catch you for?” he asked, willing to take the bait.

“Oh, there’s quite the list,” Jaskier said. “I’m afraid I have a rather criminal past. There’s the illegal bus riding, parking in client-only spots,” he counted on his fingers, adding each theatrically. “I once shook a vending machine to get my chocolate bar and got a second one I didn’t pay for.”

“Hmm. I think you might get away with those,” Geralt answered, taking a drink from his pint.

“Well I guess all is left is the case of indecent exposure.”

The man had a nonchalant demeanor about him but his eyes were focused on Geralt and definitely didn't miss the way he almost choked on the ale. Geralt only then realised how much of Jaskier’s chest was visible. He registered vaguely how he’d never had an interest in other people’s collar bones before and realised he had forgotten where they were going with this.

"Hmm,” he cleared his throat, trying to look unbothered. “Like I said, not my area of expertise."

He saw Jaskier lick his lips and something in his eyes reminded him of the decisive moment that came with all his negotiations.

"How about we get out of here and you show me your area of expertise?"

"What?" He couldn’t have heard that right. Jaskier’s eyes softened and his hand hovered over his bare forearm.

"I'm saying I want to take you home.” There was a beat and Geralt swallowed, the taste of ale still on his lips. His conversations with other people definitely didn’t go like that. The peak of panic might have been obvious on his face because Jaskier’s fingers touched his wrist and he spoke into his ear. "I'm making a move on you, Geralt,” he said kindly, “and I don’t know if you’re too polite to decline or if I’m being too subtle-” he pulled back to look at him and his face was so fucking close. “Which, honestly, would be a first! So... What do you think?”

What did he think? His mind was an uninhabited fish tank. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a light flicker. He blinked again, looking at Jaskier’s lips. His brain whispered pretty, and right then, because life always loved fucking with him, the lights and the music went out.

There was a deafening silence for a moment when everyone held their breath and then lights as bright as day came on. The crowd booed. "Oh for fuck's sake, it's the third time this month," Jaskier grumbled. “Sorry my dear but duty calls!”

He stepped down from his stool only to hoist himself up onto the bar. "Not to worry, gentlepeople!" he called out like he was standing on a stage rather than a drink-sticky counter. "The lights will go down and the music back on again as soon as our beloved Essi, Mistress of the house, puts that freaking generator back on! And in the meantime, if you would please allow this humble bard to entertain you,” he took a dramatic bow and rose up again. “Someone please toss me a folk guitar; drinks are on me!"

The crowd cheered and Jaskier got down behind the bar as one of the crew members passed over the guitar. He went off in a cheery song some people started singing along to, bathing in the crowd's energy like he breathed that very element.

Something funny and complicated was happening in Geralt's chest when a hand gently grabbed his arm.

"Come on, let's go!" Yen. "It was getting boring anyway!"

Geralt squinted at her.

"You were dancing on a table,"

"Yeah, exactly!"

It didn’t make the slightest sense but most of his conversations with Yen ended with her radiating with knowledge and him feeling stupid anyway.

"I was talking with someone," he said and instantly felt like a small child very proud to say he made a friend.

"You were what?" her voice pitched up and Geralt could tell she was a bit on the tipsy side. "Where are they?"

He looked around and back towards the other side of the bar where Jaskier was singing and playing among the crowd, flawlessly winking and flirting with every person around.

"You're right,” his voice sounded strained even to his own ears and he had to blame it on the sleepless nights. “Let's go."

It had been two weeks since they had secured the Jackdows contract and Geralt was still deep in paperwork. He'd taken yet another two-hour video call with Alveaenerle and he was starting to think that maybe Triss was right and the woman was mostly dealing with him for his looks rather than for the sake of legal liaison.

He heard the elevator doors open and checked the clock. It wouldn’t be the first time he had worked through the whole night, only noticing at 4am when the janitor came in that he had forgotten to go home. Since then, he had promised Ciri he would try to get decent amounts of sleep while she was away at Yen’s and he didn’t like breaking his promises.

When he looked through the glass wall of his shared office, however, he didn’t see the janitor. Instead, and he checked twice in case it might have been a case of insomnia-induced hallucination, Jaskier was standing in the hall. He seemed hesitant, looking right and left for any indication that he was in the right place until he saw Geralt through the office’s glass walls.

They blinked at each other, seemingly unable to move until Jaskier slowly raised a hand and waved. Geralt kicked himself and walked out of his office.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, looking a bit sheepish. "Remember me?"

“What are you doing here?” Geralt asked, straightforward as ever.

“Uh,” Jaskier said. “The security guy let me in. He must have thought I was a delivery boy or something. I uh, I got your favourite,” he raised a hand holding a paper bag that Geralt had been too distracted to notice. “From across the street? Oh! Your friend Tiff was at the bar. She said you were still at work so I thought you’d like to have dinner maybe? And like, not with me, necessarily, just, you gotta eat right?” His words were starting to run together, and Geralt didn’t see any end in sight. “And so I figured, the place across the street, they had to know your favourite. ‘Big lawyer man with long white hair’ doesn't fit many of their clients' profiles. Anyway, dinner. For you. I could stay too, if you want, I mean I am simply starving-” he emphasized the word and then looked panicked again. “Wait, was that a yes, by the way? You know who I am, right? Otherwise this is going to get so awkward-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted.

“Yes!" He beamed. "That's me. Jaskier."

“I’m still not sure what you’re doing here.”

Jaskier froze for a moment, losing his shine. “We didn’t get to finish that conversation the other night. I thought that maybe...” Balancing his weight from a feet to another, he looked younger in the office light. He didn't finish his sentence, and looked like he was waiting for Geralt to respond.

“I’m working.”

“Right.”

“I’m at work,” Geralt gestured back at his office.

“Yeah, I know, I just thought- I- You're right, this was a stupid idea. Invasive, even. God what am I doing-” he took a frantic step backwards, and then thrust out the paper bag in some sort of peace offering. “Well, you should have this anyway, I mean- you have to eat, right? I said that already. Did I say that already?” He put the paper bag down on the closest cubicle desk then started walking backwards. “Sorry for,” he gestured vaguely, “showing up like that. Uh. It won’t happen again.”

Jaskier turned around, starting towards the elevators with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, and Geralt thought he heard him swearing under his breath something that sounded very much like ‘such a fucking idiot’.

An uneasy feeling filled Geralt’s chest as he watched Jaskier walk away. He didn’t know what he was doing and he didn’t know what he wanted or why he wanted anything but he knew he didn't want this.

“Jaskier,” he called and felt so very glad no one else was working late on his floor.

“Yeah?” Jaskier turned back instantly, his face lit up by a beacon of hope.

“Do you… Do you do this often?” he asked hesitantly and felt stupid about it as soon as he heard himself. There was a beat of Jaskier looking around at the empty place before he walked back towards Geralt slowly.

“Chasing down a guy I talked to for thirty minutes because I just can’t fucking stop thinking about him? No. No, I don’t. First time, actually.”

Geralt watched the musician, noting the soft, hopeful smile forming at the corner of his lips, the closing and opening of his hands at his sides, and the way the office light was reflecting in Jaskier’s eyes.

“Twenty minutes? I need to wrap something up. Then I’m free. For dinner.” Geralt amended.

Jaskier let go of the breath he had been holding and a full smile slowly graced his face again.

“Sure. Take your time. We can heat up the food at my place.”

If twenty minutes had been a promise, Geralt would have broken it. Ten minutes later, he was done with work for the day and on his way to Jaskier’s.

“So which one are you?" Jaskier asked, leaning over his kitchen counter after discarding the take-away wrappings. "VGB or Morhen?”

“Neither,”

“Oh. I thought you were.”

“Disappointed?”

Jaskier chuckled. “No. Well, a bit, I mean," he raised a shoulder lazily and faked disappointment, "I thought you were one of those big-shot lawyers.”

“I am. I’m just not a name partner.”

"So you're a regular partner then?"

“Just barely."

"Is that a thing?"

"Hmm." Geralt took a whole second to think about it and found himself oddly relaxed with answering the question. “I have a daughter.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s voice was oddly tight.

“Yen and I have a deal. She leads the boat on the job side, excels and enjoys herself in the career she’s always wanted and worked so hard for. I pull the hours she needs me to but our focus is our daughter.”

“You and Yen.”

“Yes.”

"Wait, like Triss's dancing on tables Yenna?" Jaskier’s eyes were widening in realisation.

"Yes."

"Is she Morhen?"

Geralt shook his head. "Vengerberg."

"And she’s your ex."

"Yes."

“Are you still-”

“Friends, yes.”

Jaskier nodded slowly and seemed to be thinking about something. He put his glass away and leaned against the counter, closer to Geralt. “Do you know what you’re doing here, Geralt?” he asked so low it was almost a whisper.

Geralt couldn’t help but cast a look at his lips. “Not really.”

Jaskier slowly slipped his hand up Geralt’s forearm and the hair at the back of his neck rose.

“I was thinking maybe I could kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Geralt found himself suddenly very much too out of breath to answer.

"Geralt?"

"Yes."

"Yes, as in you're still with me or yes-"

"Both." Geralt interrupted before he had the chance to change his mind.

Jaskier looked surprised for a second then stood up on his toes to close the small space that was left between them. He pressed his lips against Geralt's; chaste and dry and sweet. When was the last time Geralt had been kissed like that? With care?

Jaskier's lips moved with his and Geralt felt the tip of the other man’s tongue against his lower lip, asking for permission. He granted it without question.

"Geralt?"

Geralt kissed him again and couldn't help the sigh that escaped when Jaskier's teeth grazed against his lips.

"Hmm?"

They shared another kiss.

"Couch?"

And another.

"Sure."

They parted only for the short time it took Jaskier to walk around the kitchen island. He led Geralt to the couch, pushing him slightly backwards to make the man sit so he could straddle his lap. Jaskier’s hips were thinner than those of Geralt’s usual partners. His shoulders were larger, his back more muscled, his arms- his whole body was fucking delightful and yet so very different, so very new.

"Jask?"

A kiss.

"Yeah?" It was more of a sigh of pleasure against his lips than a whisper.

"Remember when you asked-" Fuck, it was good. "About my-"

"Sorry, do you need me to stop?"

Something rumbled in Geralt’s chest, his voice almost a growl.

"No."

His hand found the back of Jaskier's neck and they sort of crashed again into each other. They kissed and kissed again and Geralt just didn't want to stop but things had to be said.

"Expertise," he finally managed.

"What?" Jaskier let go of his mouth and came back again for a peck before he sat back on his ankles to look at Geralt. His lips were red, his hair in disarray, his hand still hot on the side of Geralt’s neck. Geralt was fucked.

"Expertise," Geralt said, sitting up a bit straighter, settling his hands on Jaskier’s hips. "The other night. You asked about my area of expertise."

"Uh. Right."

Jaskier had a look on his face like someone had just interrupted his hot make-out session to talk about corporate law. Geralt would know, that had happened to him more times than he would admit.

"This isn't it."

"What?" Jaskier looked bewildered. His face was an open book of unguarded emotions and it made Geralt want to kiss him even more.

"My area of expertise. This isn’t it."

"Oh." Jaskier answered, distracted by a strand of hair that fell over Geralt's eyes. He plucked the strand up between deft fingers and tucked it behind Geralt’s ear. Then he blinked and backtracked. "Wait, kissing?"

"Men," Geralt said. "Men aren't my areas of expertise."

"Oh,” Jaskier said. His hand was suspended in the air behind Geralt’s ear. “Okay, you- Oh. Okay.” he whispered again, his hand dropping down to Geralt’s shoulder.

Geralt wasn't sure why Jaskier was the one blushing.

Sexual orientation had never really been a topic of conversation for Geralt growing up. Emotions were already a complex enough subject to tackle, anything that went further than caring for his brothers was not recommended. Exploration was limited. As a young man, he had gone for what society told him were the easiest ways to get sexual release when he needed it (women) and then his life tangled with Yen's and other partners faded out from the realm of his interests. When Ciri had entered their life, his very own life had taken a whole new meaning. There was little that mattered except making his daughter happy. His own personal relationships were more of an afterthought.

"Well," Jaskier started again. "We don't have to- I mean it's okay. It's good. It's all good, darling. Do you- Do you need a breather? Do you- do you even want to be here?"

"I followed you willingly, didn't I?" Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow. Jaskier chuckled.

“It’s just- What if I mess up and deter you from ever enjoying another penis ever again?" he exaggerated, the dramatic flair evident in every line of his body. Geralt snorted.

"Hey! I have a duty to the penis community and I take it very seriously," Jaskier continued as if Geralt hadn’t brushed the thought off.

"The penis community," Geralt repeated, fake awe dripping in his voice.

"The penis kingdom, actually."

"The penis continent." Geraly offered, helpfully.

"Oh, that reminds me, talking about dicks: Nilfgaard, yay or nay?"

"Argh, shut up," he grabbed Jaskier's face unceremoniously and Jaskier laughed in the kiss. His hand brushed Geralt’s cheek and everything about him seemed to slow down. Jaskier broke apart from him, a smile still on his lips, and looked at Geralt steadily like any doubt and hesitation were forgotten.

"Just tell me what you like, darling,” he said.

"I like kissing you.”

"That’s a good start," he replied and granted Geralt’s request.

Jaskier lay his hands on Geralt’s shoulders and the muscles melted under the soft weight of them. He raised onto his knees and pushed Geralt back into the couch. Jaskier was slightly taller kneeling over him, and Geralt found something delightful in having to look up at someone.

Jaskier leaned in and caught Geralt’s lips between his. His kisses were softer, slower, deeper than a minute before. Like he was taking his time to enjoy every second, to make Geralt enjoy every second. One of Geralt’s hands moved from his hip to his lower back, inviting him closer, and Jaskier slid his hands around Geralt’s neck, arching slightly into the touch. There was an intimacy about it that Geralt hadn’t expected nor experienced in a long time.

Jaskier pressed his forehead against his at every breath, his hands caressing Geralt’s cheeks, sliding into Geralt’s hair, slowly making him shiver.

Jaskier’s arms were distracting. The shirt he’d been wearing on that evening at the bar hadn't given away any clue as to the gems that were hidden underneath those sleeves. There was something feral lying deep in Geralt’s belly that was definitely ready to be manhandled.

Geralt found himself sliding his hand under Jaskier’s shirt, feeling the hot skin under his fingers, tracing the muscles along his spine.

Jaskier quickly got the message and took his shirt off between breathless kisses. He started tugging at the buttons of Geralt's shirt while Geralt’s hands made themselves at home on every inch of skin they could find. He felt goosebumps form on Jaskier’s skin and used the distraction to start laying kisses on his neck, licking and sucking the skin and taking note of the softest noises Jaskier made. The tip of his fingers slid down the hairs of Jaskier’s chest as he nibbled the man’s collarbone, and found one of his nipples on the way. Geralt caressed it tentatively and felt the shiver that went through Jaskier’s whole body when he did. Jaskier’s fingers pulled abruptly at his shirt.

“Oh god, take your goddamn shirt off, please!” The request was more of a thready gasp than an actual sentence. Geralt laughed at his enthusiasm and finished unbuttoning his shirt.

“Is this okay?” Jaskier asked as he slid the shirt off Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt hummed approvingly and raised his arms when Jaskier grabbed his undershirt. They kept kissing until he felt Jaskier’s hands slowing down, tensing slightly against his chest until they were barely just touching him. He saw the look on Jaskier’s face when he parted from him and realised why he had stopped. Jaskier’s eyes were fixated on his torso, fingers hovering over one of his many scars.

“I can put the shirt back on if you want,” he offered and Jaskier’s eyes jumped back to his face.

“What? No, darling, no,” he rushed and grabbed Geralt’s face kindly, kissing him again. “I was just surprised. Is this okay? Can I- can I touch you?”

“Yeah. Of course you can,” he kissed Jaskier softly. “They haven’t hurt in a long time.”

“Can I ask- I know this isn’t the best of times but-" he bit his lip with hesitation. "Did someone do this to you?”

“Not one person in particular,” Geralt shrugged it off.

“Geralt,” Jaskier’s brow furrowed.

“Don’t worry about it,” he brushed his nose against Jaskier’s. “It’s in the past.”

"Okay," Jaskier whispered and then, trying to lighten the mood he added, "was it, like, your secret service past?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

Jaskier snorted.

“Just tell me you’re not in a fight club.”

“In a what?” Geralt asked, frowning.

“A fight club.”

“I don’t know what that is,” he said, seemingly clueless.

“You know, a fi- oh, you ass!” Jaskier yelped, slapping him lightly on the pec and Geralt laughed, grabbing the back of Jaskier's thighs right below his bottom to make him slip even further into his lap.

“How would you like to take care of my ass?”

Jaskier almost choked on his own breath and turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Are you- do you mean literally?"

"I'm not a blushing virgin, Jaskier,” Geralt said matter-of-factly.

"I know, I just mean- well if you've never- I mean are you sure you want to? With me?"

It was a sensible question but Geralt didn't want to think about it for too long. Thinking would mean trying to make sense of things -feelings, desires. It would lead to labelling and wanting to belong and- he just hated words. Words had a tendency to make things real and unmovable. Actions were so, so much better.

"You're the one who knows what he's doing, here,” Geralt said. “I'd rather it be you doing the work."

"Uh," Jaskier said thoughtfully. He probably had a PhD in literature or something based on the improbable number of books and manuscripts lying around in his flat. Geralt had even seen a couple ones in the cereal cupboard which was apparently where Jaskier’s glasses went.

"Alright then. Just. Tell me if something is not working for you, alright?"

"I will. Now can we get back to business?"

"To defeat-"

"If you start singing right now I am getting out of here," he grabbed a handful of the musician’s ass.

"Oi!!" Jaskier complained in the fakest way possible. "Wait, hold on, does that mean you've seen Disney movies- what's your favourite one?"

Geralt raised yet another very serious eyebrow.

"Do you often discuss topics that make people think about their kids when they're trying to bed you-"

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry," Jaskier laughed and hid his face in Geralt's neck, full of shame. "How much do you hate me right now?" he muffled.

"Hmm," Geralt pondered, slowly sliding his fingers up Jaskier's spine. "You should probably find a way to make me forget about it."

"Hmm," Jaskier imitated, kissing the side of Geralt's neck and slowly making his way up to the man’s ear. "What if I took your pants off?" he whispered.

"Could be a start," Geralt admitted.

"What if we moved to my bed?"

"I was beginning to wonder if you had one of those."

"I can still fuck you over the kitchen counter if you're disappointed."

Geralt’s pupils dilated as he pictured himself bent over the piece of furniture, holding onto whatever he could while Jaskier pounded him restlessly.

"Bed. Now."

Geralt only got a quick look at the room (more books, more notebooks, cord instruments of all sorts and sizes) before Jaskier grabbed him by the belt and pushed him onto the bed. He followed quickly, straddling him and kissing him senseless until Geralt’s head hit the mattress.

"Can I t-" Jaskier started and Geralt tried to sit up, cutting him off with a kiss. He reached for his own belt, planning on taking his trousers off before Jaskier pressed against his shoulders and made him lie down again. He slid his fingers between Geralt’s, caressing his knuckles softly.

"Oh please, give me the honor."

Geralt almost growled with impatience and reached a hand out between Jaskier's legs, palming him through his jeans.

"Oh sweet Edith Eleanor Diana Poulton, you are not playing."

He got Geralt’s belt out of the way and undid his trousers. Geralt’s underwear followed halfway when Jaskier took the trousers off, leaving his ass bare on the sheets and the hem of his briefs so low on his hips it was practically at the base of his cock. He tried taking his briefs off entirely, feeling silly and oddly vulnerable being halfway undressed but Jaskier batted his hands off and kissed him again. He slid a hand through Geralt’s pubic hair and slowly, incredibly slowly, down, and after what felt like a thousand years, finally closed his hand around Geralt’s cock and pulled.

Geralt pushed the back of his head into the mattress and closed his eyes as if he was at risk of losing sight if he left them open. Jaskier kissed him through the first moan of pleasure and quickly was all over him. Jaskier was kissing and licking and touching and stroking and Geralt was having quite a hard time trying to do much more than let his hand grab onto Jaskier’s hair and do his best not to sound too desperate. He was absolutely failing.

“Is this good, darling?” Jaskier whispered, kissing his neck up to his jaw and softly biting the skin there as his hand kept stroking him.

"Hmm," was all Geralt could manage and he felt Jaskier smile against his skin.

"Tell me?"

"Ah,” Geralt’s hands were moving somewhat erratically, trying to hold onto any part of Jaskier that would make him feel anchored and not as if he was going to lose his mind before he got the man’s socks off. “Yes."

"You're so good darling,” Jaskier’s kindness, Geralt vaguely decided, was fucking obscene. “You're doing so good."

Geralt felt himself blush, having no idea how any blood could flow to his face since he was pretty sure all of it was rushing to his dick. He wasn't going to last long at this rate.

"I want- I want to touch you too."

Jaskier let him open his jeans and moaned into his mouth when Geralt finally got his hand into his underwear.

“Jaskier,” he warned and Jaskier slowed down the working of his own hands.

“You alright, love?” he whispered, voice broken with pleasure.

Instead of an answer, Geralt sat up and pulled Jaskier's trousers to get his point across. Jaskier took his hands off him - the loss was fucking unbearable - to finally get rid of all remaining items of clothing and pressed himself against Geralt again, his hand on his neck. Geralt immediately got his arms around his middle to cradle him closer. Jaskier rocked slightly against him, their cocks pressing against each other and Geralt couldn't help but get a hand on both of them.

"Show me?" he croaked hoarsely and silently prayed that Jaskier wouldn’t make him beg for it because he definitely would. Instead Jaskier joined their hands together and guided him, pressing on Geralt's fingers to make him hold his cock tighter, moaning when Geralt's wrist angled exactly how he liked it.

"Oh god, yes. You're so good to me, love," he moaned.

It felt like forever and it felt like a blink. They rocked and they kissed and they moaned and Jaskier kept breathing sweet nonsense into his neck, praises into his ear, about how good he was and how good he felt and how well Jaskier would take care of him and how much he wanted to make him moan through the night but in the end, what got him over the edge was Jaskier digging his fingers onto the soft flesh of his ass, sliding in to brush against Geralt’s hole, and absolutely, definitely had nothing to do with Jaskier crying out, “Oh love, you’re beautiful!”

Geralt lost a few seconds or maybe a minute or five over which Jaskier had apparently come all over his stomach too. Jaskier was catching his breath, lying with his forehead against Geralt’s chest, trying his best not to lay all his weight over him. Geralt found the back of Jaskier’s neck, his fingers going up through his hair and drawing a comfortable groan from him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pushing on his arm to lie a few centimeters away, his head propped over Geralt’s shoulder, their legs still intertwined together. Jaskier’s arm stretched over Geralt’s middle and the tingly waves of left-over pleasure washed over them both with every breath, content tiredness slowly taking over.

A few minutes later Geralt extracted himself from Jaskier’s grasp, not without some difficulty, and convinced himself to clean up. Washing his hands in front of the bathroom mirror, Geralt looked back at Jaskier’s face hovering over his shoulder as Jaskier pressed his chest against his back. Eyes closed, Jaskier asked: “D’you want to stay?”

Vaguely wondering about the last time he felt as comfortable as this with someone and then pushing the thought away, Geralt’s eyes lowered, looking at Jaskier’s arms settled around his body.

He felt Jaskier’s lips move into a loopy smile against his skin when he answered:

“Hmm.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my writing #no warnings #geralt of rivia is a little dense and jaskier is very very pretty #mine: geraskier #mine: no warning #mine: himbo geralt #mine: modern au #mine: mature #mine: of fingers tongues and toes series

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flamediel · 4 years

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yo dont know yashua you cant say he's racist how woulf you feel if someone judged you based on your religion and called you racist and sexist for it? its his right ot believe what he wants and you are being like a nazi attacking him

ok, look. I was just gonna delete this or respond to this w a meme and laugh it off (and the girlies on my snap KNOW this made me cackle) but we’re talking about a particularly insidious brand of racism and misogyny and I feel the need to elaborate. for those who didn’t see this is the post we are discussing.

Let’s start by discussing the tradwife movement. this post was tagged as tradwife, so you can’t tell me it’s not associated with the movement. the hashtag is at the top of the pic and tagged in the description, so it’s hard to miss. Yashua commented on a post with those hashtags being VERY visible saying he liked that, so he v obviously subscribes to those ideas.

What is the tradwife movement? it means “traditional wife” and it originated in alt-right spaces as a means of getting women to subscribe to right-wing ideals. This NYT Opinion piece by Annie Kelly, a Ph.D. student researching the impact of digital cultures on anti-feminism and the far right, describes this phenomenon in incredible depth. Here is a short explanation of where the movement started, pulled from Ms. Kelly’s article

“Some members of the alt-right have been weighing whether the absence of women from their movement is a problem. In 2016, the Swedish nationalist Marcus Follin, who calls himself The Golden One on YouTube, made a video titled “The Women Question.” In it, he urged his followers to dial down the open misogyny and consider new strategies to win over more women to the white nationalist cause. Mr. Follin was responding to statistics from the Austrian presidential election that year, in which female voters helped swing the election away from the candidate of the far-right Freedom Party. “You might not like that women have the right to vote, you might not like that anyone has the right to vote,” Mr. Follin conceded, “but it’s about winning a long-term political victory.

Enter the tradwives.

Over the past few years, dozens of YouTube and social media accounts have sprung up showcasing soft-spoken young white women who extol the virtues of staying at home, submitting to male leadership and bearing lots of children — being “traditional wives.”

If you read through that tiny snippet of the article, what are some keywords that stand out? for me, it’s “alt-right,” and “white nationalist.” The racism there is unmistakable, and while Yashua may not be white he has previously expressed some incredibly racist viewpoints, like how him kissing a Russian woman ended racism and his saying the n-word despite doing the most to separate himself from the black community when it’s even slightly inconvenient for him. If he’s following and participating in tradwife circles, then he’s also v much a part of white supremacist and anti-black movements (yes, POC can be parts of those movements, no it does not make it ok).

The article also makes it incredibly clear how misogynistic the tradwife movement is:

Female fears of objectification and sexual violence remain as potent as ever; the tradwife subculture exploits them by blaming modernity for such phenomena, and then offers chastity, marriage and motherhood as an escape. As one such YouTube commentator, a teenager, told her audience, traditionalism does “what feminism is supposed to do” in preventing women from being made into “sexual objects” and treated “like a whore.”

It’s a lie, of course. Modesty has never been a safeguard against degradation or rape, and we know that a rapist is no less likely to hurt a woman simply because he’s married to her. But it’s not difficult to see how it could be a seductive lie; the continuous headlines made by the #MeToo movement, paradoxically, were eagerly shared among tradwife networks, as supposed proof that sexual liberation had made life unacceptably dangerous for women.

if you read this and aren’t completely appalled by how this movement preys on women’s fears to push them into pursuing subservient roles in relationships with abusive men, then idk how to better explain it for you. White female victimhood has always been weaponized by right-wing movements to tempt them into joining their ranks, but for a man of color with a predominantly brown, Latin American fanbase to be advocating for this shit? He is exposing mostly young, impressionable women of color to a culture that wants them dead, and that will happily manipulate them in order to achieve their ends. he has a platform, and he’s using it to explicitly harm his fans. This has nothing to do with religion, it has to do with the explicit rhetoric of the movement that he showed support for. he isn’t racist and sexist for being Christian (although, Christianity in and of itself is heavily tied to racism and misogyny and, like most organized religions, its members need to evaluate these stances to make sure they don't perpetuate them) he is racist and sexist for supporting ang giving a platform to the tradwife movement.

Now that we’ve discussed the movement as a whole, let’s talk about the meme itself. Of course, the biggest umbrella is Jesus Christ, alluding to how Christian faith protects followers from the “rain” or any harmful things. that’s fine, that’s just Christianity. the problem is what comes next, the husband's umbrella labeled with “protecting” and “providing for the family.” UNDER that, and thus presumably less importantly, is the wife’s umbrella labeled with “managing the home” and “having children.” The meme very clearly positions the wife’s role as subservient to the husband’s. Look, it’s perfectly okay to want to be a housewife and devote yourself to kids, but this responsibility is not less than that of the breadwinner. Housework is literally a necessity in maintaining livable conditions, and the reality is in traditional family setups it’s considered menial. if a wife wants to stay home and take care of the kids that’s fine, and if you want to marry a woman that’s into that then that’s also fine, but that woman is not lesser than you. Her role is equal to yours, and just as necessary to sustaining your life as yours is to sustaining hers. Putting a woman’s role under yours, no matter your ideal family dynamic, is sexist. That is a very basic misogynistic ideal, and we cannot ignore that.

Now, onto your comment specifically.

“how woulf [sic] you feel if someone judged you based on your religion and called you racist and sexist for it”

I am not judging Yashua based on his religion. He is a Christian, and I don’t judge him based solely on that fact. I judge him based on specific problematic things he’s said to support his Christianity. Calling Buddha an “old fat man” is racist, regardless if you’re a Christian or not. Implying that women are subservient to men is sexist, regardless if you’re a Christian or not. These are not isolated incidents with him, and they point to deeper-rooted beliefs that are frankly concerning. It’s not about the fact he’s Christian, it’s about his specific beliefs.

I’m not going to pretend that there are no problematic sects and beliefs in Islam, but I am comfortable in the fact that I don’t support them, and in fact actively advocate against many of them. I’m literally going into Human Rights to help fight the racism and misogyny ingrained in my country’s religious laws. this is by no means comparable to Yashua, and if you’re implying that I’m racist or sexist on the very basis of my being Muslim you are not only wrong but also islamophobic as fuck.

“its [sic] his right ot [sic] believe what he wants”

Yes, it is. So long as those beliefs don’t actively harm other people, especially marginalized groups like these do. and guess what anon? if he has the right to believe what he wants, so do I. and I believe he’s a racist, misogynistic asshole who is in desperate need of self-reflection. The difference between mine and his beliefs is that mine don’t actually harm anyone and are well-founded. his are actively hurting his fans, and he needs to fix up because he is spreading incredibly fucked up beliefs.

“you are being like a nazi attacking him”

um. yeah, NO. it is not like nazism to call someone out for perpetuating alt-right ideas. if anything, calling out pro-nazi propaganda is uhh. probably one of the least nazi-like thing someone can do. also equating me calling out a problematic meme to a literal genocide is anti-Semitic and tone-deaf as fuck. Don’t pull that shit here.

well then, I think this is a good enough response. I am very passionate about these issues, and if someone else wants to discuss them I am happy to, but just an FYI, I expect you to be coming in with proper manners. the only reason I answered this ask is because it was an important conversation starter, but if anyone brings this energy into my ask box again it’s a straight block. I hope that’s clear, and that this was helpful. Let me know if you want me to adjust the tags on this post, I did my best but I know this can be a triggering topic, so if you need anything specific tagged just shoot me an ask or a dm. Stay safe!

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hellomynameisbisexual · 5 years

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Men Are Tweeting #BisexualMenExist. Here's Why That Matters.

No, bisexual men are not just "going through a phase."

By Brittany Wong

02/25/2020 08:02pm EST

Bisexual men exist. They don’t have to pick a side. They’re not sexually confused. And they’re bi even if they are currently seeing a woman.

Those were just some of the messages expressed by bi men Tuesday on Twitter as #BisexualMenExist trended throughout the day.

Some used the viral hashtag as an opportunity to come out:

Others jumped on the chance to explain how bi men tend to get dismissed by the LGBTQ+ community and straight people alike:

The hashtag even got a little love from Ryan Russell, an NFL veteran who previously played for the Dallas Cowboys and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and came out as bisexual in August in a powerful essay for ESPN.

The powerful hashtag was created by Vaneet Mehta, a software engineer and LGBTQ+ rights advocate who’s grown tired of seeing biphobia on Twitter.

“The biphobia towards bi men recently has been so shit,” Mehta said in his original tweet. “So I’m bringing back #BisexualMenExist for some much needed positivity! Drop a pic below with the hashtag and retweet this thread!”

Mehta told HuffPost that he tweeted in response to a Twitter conversation that recently broke out over a conversation on Netflix’s new reality show, “Love Is Blind.” In one episode, a couple gets into a tumultuous fight after the man in the relationship, Carlton, comes out as bisexual to his fiancée, Diamond. Diamond casts doubt on Carlton’s sexuality, and many on Twitter took her side.

“One of the main things I saw on Twitter was a poll trending asking women whether they would ever date a bi man,” Mehta said. “Most people voted no. I also saw quite a few comments insinuating that bi men were basically gay and just lying to themselves. It was upsetting.”

Mehta said the conversations on Twitter highlight how many people still believe that bisexuality doesn’t really exist or that it’s “just a phase” ― an unfair assumption that leads to bisexual erasure, or bi invisibility, as it’s also known.

“These stereotypes about bisexual people erase my identity entirely, telling me I’m not valid,” he said. “And it means people feel that they couldn’t date me because I’m only going to come out or I’m still in the closet.”

Kyle Payen, a college student from Brooklyn, New York, was one of the many men who chimed in on #BisexualMenExist.

Growing up in Spring Valley, New York, a predominantly black and Latino community undergoing gentrification, Payen said many of his neighbors were casual about their homophobia and biphobia.

“Growing up, I always heard the people in my community call gay people ‘faggots’ or ‘masisi,’ as my fellow Haitians would say,” Payen told HuffPost. “Specifically on bisexual folk, I remember people saying that bisexual men were ‘just gay men still in the closet.’”

When he finally came out as bisexual, his girlfriend at the time told him that she questioned “if she was enough” for him.

“I was able to help her understand that her assumption was rooted in biphobia and ignorance and eventually everything worked out,” he said. “I don’t think people are disposable. I’m willing to help re-educate people and build community with them.”

Steve Faciana is an aspiring filmmaker from Chicago who also added his voice to the hashtag. He said bi erasure plays out when friends and family insist you can’t be bi because you’ve never dated a man (or a woman, if you’re a bisexual woman).

“All my friends and family were supportive, but I don’t think any of them really took me seriously until I actually dated a guy,” he said.

“My biggest pet peeve about how people look at bisexual people is how they feel if they date the same gender, they’re gay,” he added. “If they date the opposite gender, they’re straight. We’re always bisexual, we are always attracted to both genders. People just don’t like to view it that way.”

Dan R., a 25-year-old artist from New York City, said he felt emboldened when he woke up Tuesday morning and saw #BisexualMenExist trending. His personal experiences highlight another way biphobia plays out: People often believe that bisexuals just want to have sex with everyone and are promiscuous.

“Even an ex-partner’s parent insisting I was going to cheat on them because I’m bi,” he told HuffPost. “This ignorant mentality even bled into the viral hashtag and the comments on my photos.” (There’s a lot of support underneath Dan’s tweet, but there’s negativity, too ― including one reply from an older man who told Dan that even if he comes out, don’t expect “real men like me to respect you.” It’s that kind of hostility that underscores the need for the hashtag.)

There’s more bisexuals out there than the hashtag’s trolls probably realize. Bisexuals make up the largest share of the LGBTQ+ population in the U.S. In 2016, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported that 5.5% of women and 2% of men said they were bisexual.

While erasure is clearly a problem, viral campaigns like this and visibility wins ― when TV and movies feature prominent bi characters, or when Russell, the NFL player, came out a few months ago ― make it easier for others to live an open life.

William Tracy, a sci-fi and fantasy author, is among them. He came out last year after being married to a woman for 15 years.

“I’m married to a woman, so I pass ― and did pass ― as straight for many years,” he said. “It took confidence in myself to admit the full scope of my sexuality.”

Sometimes, seeing viral campaigns like #BisexualMenExist is just the push you need, Tracy said.

“I’ve had such a welcoming response from the community, that’s why I wanted to add my voice,” he said. “Maybe if I had known more about bisexuality before, I would have come out sooner.”

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rpbetter · 3 years

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Today I learned a popular vent blog is repressing submissions about the drama with the now defunct resource blog. They probably have a relationship to the resource blog admin, or they are the admin. I know two people who sent submissions that were not published, but new submissions they made after were. The admin is silent after inquiries about it. They are ignoring everyone who tries to talk about it. It is so hard to find a place in the rpc that is transparent right now, a place that does not censor people who need to get things off their chest. Of all places that should keep their bias in check. It should not be a vent blog. That is one of the last places people go when they can not confide in their rp partners, or people in real life. Sometimes just having a vent post published can be everything. It is more silencing than people think.

Okay, I do know what you're talking about. I've said in the past that I specifically look around the RPC to gauge a rounder set of experiences, problems, etc. That blog is such a place that I have visited in the past to do so, and I have both noticed and been told what you're telling me now. I will admit, because I do believe in honesty here as a part of transparency one should strive to uphold off of their RP and personal blogs, that I have held exactly these suspicions since the blog choose to "handle" recent events the way they did. That is why I was paying attention to the disparity in both original submissions published and the responses to them.

What I have seen is a little uncomfortable feeling. It isn't just The Topic itself, it's also anything relating too closely to that mun's repeatedly expressed positions on things as well. Well, you know, a frightening number of people do feel the same way, do engage in those behaviors, so I am willing to believe that I am merely seeing shit where it doesn't exist. I am, after all, just a person, doing what people do, being fallible. I'm not acting on any information that anyone else out there isn't privy to, I also want t be clear about that. It's the opposite of my interest to withhold information, make it up, or inflame the situation.

Like everyone else in the RPC right now, it's incredibly difficult to not be suspicious. So many really ugly things were revealed and transpired, it was like every three hours there was something horrifying and new going on. And the way that it was left off, with the meme blog mun and with that vent blog just served to chafe those feelings for many.

So, again, while I am not trying to give this all a spritzer of gasoline, and neither am I acting on any knowledge none of you have, I've had suspicions since the time that vent blog decided that it was fully appropriate to refuse action for what went on that there was a bit of a personal connection going on. When your blog has established that it will mass-block people for far less, but suddenly, over this, it's a useless effort not going to help anyone? I'm sorry, that's suspicious to me. If nothing else, it was incredibly shitty to tell muns who were targetted because of interactions on their blog to just get over it and be adults when the adult thing is to approach the mods (hello, it does stand for moderator) with concerns, and this is a serious concern.

One that has done exactly as you say - effectively shut down venting and communication on that blog. I love that the direction is constantly to take things to the comments lmao gee, I wonder why no one is willing to openly comment anymore? Total mystery! Could it be that even you feel you can handle potential harassment, you don't want to endanger anyone else who might not be able to? Possibly.

Venting has a negative connotation here anyway, that doesn't help. Months before this all happened, I was seeing an increasing number of people equating such blogs to burnbooks, or at best, "childish echo chambers."

However, venting on one's own blog is not alright either. We're not supposed to have a visible problem with anyone or anything they're doing, ever. It's supposed to work out every time like this: you approach the person(s) causing you this problem and discuss it maturely with them in private, the issue is resolved, and everyone goes off into the sunset crapping rainbows. Double ones, even.

The problem is...it doesn't work out like that very often. That isn't to say it shouldn't be your first action, it should. Sometimes, especially if you've been both lucky and extremely careful about your writing partners, you'll be wonderfully surprised and it'll be a great conversation that helps both muns. So much of the time though, it instigates a fight because everyone is automatically defensive as hell, or one or both muns are so afraid of that happening that they'll refuse to have a meaningful confrontation (confrontation is not always negative, we need to stop viewing it that way). One or both say whatever is necessary to smooth over the problem, while they change nothing at all, making the feelings of anger so much worse.

And maybe, this problem isn't that big of a deal, one needs to work themselves up into addressing it, or they've cause to actually fear the other mun's response to them.

So, they have three options, and none of them is alright with the RPC:

vent to a friend - this is unacceptable because it is always seen as talking shit behind another mun's back, bringing drama to others, and trying to force people to take sides, no matter how much none of these may be the case and hold a lot of variables depending on the type of venting and the relationship of the muns involved

vent/vague on the dash - not always the same thing, not always occurring at the same time, and not always invalid either, but always viewed as incredibly malicious and wrong. Even if the result was either getting the friend who wouldn't stop refusing to engage to have a meaningful conversation with you or finding a new partner because someone else has been experiencing it too, you know you're not going to do this to each other, and a mutual you've been ignoring is now a valued partner

vent on a vent blog - seen as even worse than venting on one's blog in some corners because it's a more open to visit place, it's just stirring up drama and fights, this makes everyone feel vagued about and suspicions and accusations of being mentioned/mentioning someone run wild. Everyone wants a drama-free dash, no one wants to allow anyone a better place to do it

Venting is important. I think it is necessary to maintaining a less explosive environment. It's called "venting" for a reason!

Maybe it is the most ridiculous complaint in history, but those things do build. And build. And build. Until they blow up all over in someone's face, it might even be someone totally innocent who happened to be in the right place at the wrong time with exactly the worst coincidental words spoken to you. These places allow for people to get it out without hurting anyone's feelings or starting a massive argument when it wasn't even anything that serious. They offer, or used to, different perspectives that let muns feel seen while helping them to decide whether they are just blowing things out of proportion, misunderstanding/potentially unaware of another aspect, or even in a worse situation than they were allowing themselves to be aware of with a harmful relationship.

It goes beyond just venting when there are conversations going on about the topics! Sometimes, people just need to feel like they're not so isolated. Sometimes, they legitimately lack the tools and perspectives to approach a problem more directly or successfully. And yes, sometimes, they even need to see that this is kind of shitty of them and they should reevaluate.

Vent blogs are difficult to manage.

We all have biases, and when it comes to more personal situations we can recognize or see ourselves within, that is never more likely to become a point of extra difficulty to keep in check. This is actually why I left that vent blog the first time around, there was way too much bias being expressed with a mod taking it upon themselves to opine on submissions, fight with people about them, and refuse to post them while vaguing about them. Among other, increasingly perturbing behaviors I had no desire to keep seeing daily on my dash.

When you decide to create or accept a position moderating such a blog, you have to know that you will be thus challenged. Someone is going to vent about someone you'll recognize, a situation you feel passionately about, or say something in a vent that upsets you. You have got to remain visibly impartial. Go on and vent about it yourself to friends, write a post on your personal, do whatever the hell you need to in order to not be visibly biased and acting upon that bias.

I see blogs like this, as well as other places of moderation, often becoming incensed and offering the angry justification that "mods are people." Yes, I should hope you are! No one is saying you must be an impossibly perfect person without opinions, biases, or mistakes. We are holding you to a higher standard of you deal with these things out in the open where you hold this position, yes. That's literally what your job is, my friends. Go off about it, feel your feelings, even cultivate a block list from that blog! But you don't show it, you don't ever make people feel worse when the point of your blog is to allow them a voice.

The only time you need to give a personal opinion is when it is requested or you need to express that a submission was declined/comment had to be moderated due to you exercising your judgment that it violated the rules.

This is supposed to be a safe place for muns to anonymously let it out of their systems and discuss these topics. Not a place where they'll feel exposed, judged by the mods themselves, and denied a voice because of a mod's biases being exercised.

And I'm extremely sorry that people are being made to feel this way, all over again in some cases, because someone cannot handle the position they took up. I'm sorry for the whole community who has lost an important outlet. I wish that I could recommend another place for people to go that might provide a better experience, but as yet, I do not. Hopefully, that'll be changing in the near-enough future, but for right now...all of the vent blogs I was familiar with have long since closed down.

If anyone has any currently running vent blog suggestions, I'd love to know about them and share them! Please, they do have to be legitimate vent blogs. I'm not going to recommend here that might be too close to actually being burnbook-like, deals in publishing URLs, and so on. If you want to engage with that, it's absolutely your choice, but it's not something I want to give certified approval to on this blog, and I hope you understand why. If they're legitimately anonymous, safer places serving as vent blogs, let me know so I can check them out for a few days and publish your ask!

It wasn't my intention with this blog, though I did offer that a couple of times just to get people talking about problems important to them in the past, but if you want to vent here, I'll do my best to publish them (unless you request otherwise) in a relatively timely fashion.

I'm just not a proper vent blog, and people should be aware of that! I do offer opinions on those matters. It's more in line with the point of this blog to do so - I want to be able to give some point of assistance in publishing them. I cannot promise, therefore, to be impartial, but I can promise to not judge you or ignore what you send because I don't agree, am tired of it, etc.

I'd just ask that, once again, everyone realize that sending hateful messages to me isn't going to result in me being nice to you in return. If you've a complaint to lodge, lodge it respectfully if you desire to be treated that way yourself. This blog will publish anon hate, that doesn't mean I'm going to be nice when you send it. Anything else, however, I will genuinely try to offer you the opportunity to be seen and heard, some advice, experiences I might have had with a similar issue, and to approach it fairly.

Sorry that everyone is going through a hard time, that it just doesn't seem to stop, and probably will not for some time now. Thank you for sending this, I hope it made you feel a little better! That has been, and will continue to be, my objective in publishing asks relating to this matter - I just want everyone to feel like they have some agency and respect somewhere, that they're being seen, and that they have the support of others in the community.

#answered #anonymous #vent blogs #tumblr rpc #drama cw

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pure-bakusass · 5 years

Text

My adult kiribaku headcanons! 💥💪

Warning, this is a long ass post where I decided to write some of my favourite headcanons down. Mostly Bakugou but Kirishima is involved more or less. I love my adult pro hero husbands. I hope you enjoy!

1. The hero agency!

The formidable duo of Pro Heroes Ground Zero and Red Riot is known by public to be happily married and leading their own hero agency together. Their agency has quite a reputation and is one of the best in Japan. Being offered an internship there is considered quite a big deal. Your career as a future hero might really blossom there, if only you can handle the well known explosive temper of Ground Zero. But despite Ground Zero's lack of any actual patience for work with kids and often ending up scaring them, Red Riot does his best calming Bakugou down if needed and being the most warm and understanding teacher you could possibly have. Red Riot is just great with kids and with his husband. I'd say with people in general. His gentle approach softens the impact of Bakugou's behavior to the point people often end up forgiving and forgetting Bakugou's flaws.

2. Bakugou's tattoos!

Bakugou has some piercings and tattoo sleeves, not only because they look dope and he has always wanted them, but also to make a clear stand against the harmful cultural taboo there is in Japan. Tattoos, being strongly associated with criminal underworld, especially the gangsters, are now all over a pro hero's skin whether the public likes it or not. Bakugou himself takes pride in inspiring people not to give a single fuck about the opinion of others and encouraging them to do whatever makes them feel happy.

Ground Zero's tattoos were actually a very controvertial issue for some time on the media around the whole country, practically resulting in a revolution in that matter and causing a lot of discussions, mostly about whether it is appropriate for a pro hero to have tattoos or not. Specifically tattoos holding a vulgar or violent meaning like "shit happens", "sex bomb", "die", "fuck you" and so on. Ground Zero himself refused to take interviews and cut himself off the whole issue with making a public statement that he "doesn't give a fuck".

Without any interest from the subject of the issue himself, it wasn't long till the topic was worn off and the controversy faded away eventually. Still, it is pretty common for comments of strong disagreement to occur, for example:

"He looks more like a villain than a hero."

"Tattoos are not heroic, he should be ashamed of himself."

"He's clearly doing it for the controversy around himself so that he's in the spotlight. What a shallow attention seeker."

"Pro heroes should set a good example for our children, and so called Ground Zero is the exact opposite of what a pro hero should represent."

"Someone who wants to look like a criminal shouldn't be given a hero license because there is clearly something wrong going on inside his mind."

Bakugou, however, snaps back at those comments with more or less the same words.

"You want to know what's heroic? Minding your own fucking business."

Kirishima tried to persuade Bakugou into being a little more subtle with the public, however Bakugou said that "he didn't carry the bitch out of the collapsing building with those fucking hands so that she could disrecpect him like this" and he stands by it with every fiber of his tattooed being.

3. Bakugou and kids!

Despite Bakugou claiming he strongly dislikes children and can't handle them, Ground Zero is voted the most popular pro hero among teenagers. It's probably because of his rebellious, fierce attitude and his will to say and do anything he wants no matter what might others think, which is by teens considered very cool and brave, but by the parents of those teens - rude and inappropriate. A lot of adults don't think that Ground Zero is the best role model for their children, however nobody can deny his dedication, courage, skills and all the good he does for the society in general.

Once when a group of teens heard Bakugou throwing a sharp, savage comeback at someone who got on his nerves nearby, they high fived and yelled "Fucking roasted! Nobody messes with Ground Zero! He's the best!" Bakugou snapped at them to mind their fucking businesses. He wouldn't ever admit it but he was flattered and happy to hear them say it.

Despite saying it's useless and stupid over and over again, Bakugou never refuses to give autographs to any kid that asks. He knows what it feels like to admire someone to an extreme level, after all.

Once when he was asked for an autograph by this visibly shy and intimidated boy, he asked him what the fuck would he even need it for and got an answer:

"You see, I'm being bullied in my school, so I thought maybe if I let them know I met someone as awesome as Ground Zero, like, in person, they'd leave me alone. But without an autograph nobody will believe me."

Bakugou smirked in response.

"You think that's gonna work? Pathetic. Like anyone would pay any respect to a piece of shitty paper. Tell you what, I'll pay a little visit to your school myself and make the bastards shit their pants, how about that?"

Needless to say the kid wouldn't belive what he had just heard and looked at Bakugou in pure bliss. Long story short, Bakugou stormed the school and yelled at everyone. Not just the bullies but the teachers who ignored the case too, calling them out as "fucking idiots doing shitty job" and threatening the whole school community in general. The media basically ate him alive because of that incident but it's not like he cares anyway. Ground Zero the chaotic good hero regrets nothing.

I think he may be willing to go this extra in the matter of bullying as a pro hero because of what he used to do in the past himself (to Izuku) and feeling ashamed of this whenether it gets back to him.

4. Kirishima's looks! (aka krbk being adorably domestic)

At some point of their adult life together Kirishima decided to grow a beard. Bakugou said that he didn't think anything could look more shitty on Kirishima than his dumb hair, and yet there goes his husband proving him wrong. Despite having a new topic for many mean jokes Bakugou doesn't really mind the beard, just like he doesn't really mind Kirishima's unbreakable crocs he wears around the house (and occasionally not only the house) pretty much all the time. He just can't really do anything about that and it's not like he cares enough to try.

What Bakugou likes especially about Kirishima's new pro hero look is his hair he decided to grow to quite an impressive lenght. It somehow resembles a lion's mane and looks intimidating and very manly, but still being soft and nice to touch and run fingers through.

Bakugou's morning routine includes helping Kirishima with brushing his hair. He complains about it every time but there wasn’t a single day he didn’t do it. He still stubbornly calls the hair shitty and will rather die than say he adores it out loud. Kirishima knows.

Bonus:

Kirishima buys all kinds of Ground Zero merchandise there is because he thinks it's cute. Bakugou gets mad at him for spending money on that useless bullshit when he has the original Ground Zero in his presence pretty much whenether he wants. Kirishima likes to remind Bakugou every single day that he's his biggest fan and he loves him very much. He usually gets an irritated but equally adorable “I love you too you damn nerd” back.

***

For those of you who were determined enough to reach the very end, thank you sincerely for spending your time reading this. I was meaning to include an art piece for each one of the headcanons but I was too lazy to do art AND the post is already long enough I guess. You can expect my adult krbk artwork to appear in other posts though! They most certainly will appear.

#tldr #im sorry it was so long #kiribaku #bnha headcanons #adult bnha characters #tattooed bakugou katsuki #long haired kirishima eijirou #pro hero kiribaku #Ground Zero #Red Riot #domestic kiribaku #bakugou dealing with kids #there will be art to this just you wait #maybe even a spicy sexy art you never know

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apprenticenerd · 4 years

Note

"Anyone can send me an ask with one of the titles and I’ll post a snippet or talk about that WIP!" The Acropolis, Tacet, Checklist, A Tiny Galaxy, Hearsay, Going Back, Ella Disenchanted, Making Peace, The Slashed Circle, Wake Up, Tenno, Midnight, Heliotropism, Arrhythmia, the one about Among Us, the one about Library of Ruina, the one that’s a D&D world concept. Yes, all of them. I know you wanna talk about all of them. So go, go forth and do it!

Hoooo boy, this is gonna be a long post. Lots and lots of writing snippets under the cut to avoid dash stretch!

The Acropolis - original - length uncertain - 1.4k and counting

im not ready for this im not i thought it would be yrs i thought id at least get an english degree first

omg sal whats goin on

fuckin hell whyd it have to be now i have a chem lab tomorrow

sally-tate macpherson. u never swear. ever. wtf is goin on.

ok. jess. i need u to listen really really carefully. understand?

answer the goddamn question ur scarin me

shut up and listen and this will go a lot better

fine but u need to tell me wtf is happnenig

ok. im going to tell you a bunch of stuff. not giving u advice, thats not allowed, but im gonna tell u stuff it seems like itd be impossible for me to know.

?????????????

i said shut up this is really important dont question how i know it. just go with it and figure out what to do. and dont die. bc no matter how crazy stuff seems, if u die, ur dead. here and everywhere. ok?

This is an original story coming straight from a @/writing-prompt-s prompt about a crack in a kid’s hardwood floor that they fantasized was a portal actually being one. I originally intended to write the entire thing like this, as a conversation over text, but that may not be feasible given a certain world-building detail at the other end of the portal (and the limits of my creativity lmao).

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Tacet - The Blackout Club - one-shot - 3.2k and counting

She closed her eyes again, and there it was. Hallucination? Some new science trick with electromagnetic radiation off the visible spectrum? Evidence that she was actually going insane? Whatever it was, it burned behind her eyelids in bright, incontrovertible red - and was completely invisible when she opened her eyes again. There was just the usual mess of club posters and one big one about someone’s exceedingly dumb-looking lost cat.

Eyes open, there was only Sargent Snuggles. Eyes closed, there was the normal darkness and then three lines of text where the poster had been, wavering like scarlet fire:

JOIN TBC JOIN TBC JOIN TBC

TBC? What the fuck was that? She’d never heard of any group with that acronym before. Hardly aware of the flurry of weird looks from half the other people in the hallway, she crossed the hall to examine the lost cat poster more closely. It felt like perfectly normal paper when she touched it, and there wasn’t even a hint of red with her eyes open, unless you counted the cat’s tacky pink sweater. How the hell was this even possible?

“You’re finally cracking, Bri,” she groaned under her breath, then headed for her locker. She did have to get home. Add another big fat entry to the weird shit list.

A backstory one-shot for my Blackout Club OC Briar, telling the story of how she got into the club in the first place. I’ve been stuck in the same spot for a while now, after Briar’s friend Dani explains the club to her, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the scene’s over as is. Of course, writing the next one is the tough part.

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Checklist - The Blackout Club - one-shot - 1.7k and counting

8. You still have a headache. Shouldn’t you go back to sleep and try to do this in the morning?

9. (wake up)

10. Nah, you’ve always been a night owl, and school starts criminally early, too early to get much done beforehand. It’s quiet, except for Dad snoring. Your parents are asleep already. You can stay up until this is done, and they’ll be none the wiser.

11. Your head hurts worse. It’s getting harder to think. At only 9 pm? 9:30? Whatever. You should sleep.

12. (wake UP)

13. What are you thinking? You have to read at least a little of this chapter, or there’s no way you’ll be able to bullshit your way through class tomorrow. Besides, all of a sudden, the silence feels...strange. Heavier? You can’t describe it.

14. You need to sleep. You need a drink of water or something. You need to finish this damn homework. You need to sleep. You need to sleep.

15. Stare at The Great Gatsby. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense.

16. Realize what’s up with the silence. Dad’s not snoring anymore. You aren’t feeling like yourself. You need to sleep.

17. Something’s weird.

18. (WAKE UP)

19. ...No. Something’s wrong.

Another Blackout Club story and another Interface Screw, as it were, this time in the form of a (very long) checklist. None of the characters have names (yet). It describes another way a kid could find themself running around at night with the Blackout Club, this time by fighting off the Song just enough to run into a club member who could wake them up the rest of the way. As with Tacet, I still need to write the suspenseful part.

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A Tiny Galaxy - Warframe - 4 chapters planned, 1 complete, 1 in progress - 7.8k and counting

Try it if you don’t believe me, the kid in the vent had said.

It was impossible. It was physically impossible. All of this was impossible. Had the Void...? Could the Void...?

The ship was at a standstill. Her mother had tried to kill her, and something had happened. She’d made something happen. There had been no holoprojector in that kid’s hand. Nothing was impossible anymore.

Jhia took a deep breath. How the heck was she supposed to do this? Was she supposed to feel something, some internal guide? Blue Hair hadn’t said. Feeling incredibly stupid, she did a quick mental checkup on herself. Nothing felt wrong, or different - but now that she thought about it…

Afterward, she would try many times to explain it, and fail every time. The best she could come up with was that once she found the Void, calling on it was as easy and as natural as breathing. She opened her hands in front of her, concentrated on that force like an extension of herself, reopened her eyes, and there it was: a riotous little ball of energy, wisps and motes of light and not-quite-light like a tiny galaxy, the Tau system in the palm of her hand, raging.

More OC backstory time! This one’s for my Tenno, a nerdy fourteen-year-old (at the time of this story, anyway) by the name of Jhia, going through the hell that is the Zariman Ten-Zero and what happened on it. This is possibly the first part of the story I actually wrote: the roll-credits moment when Jhia realizes the Void’s changed her more already than she thought.

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Hearsay - Lobotomy Corporation/Library of Ruina - one-shot - 1k and counting

"Oh? Did they investigate further?"

"They tried. Found a few fingerprints, but they didn't match anyone in the database."

"What's the update, then?"

"Reports from elsewhere in the district of someone not in uniform carrying a Zwei sword. They're slippery, good at avoiding us, which would suggest Syndicate operative to me and HQ. Except that in every one of the descriptions we managed to get, our sword thief is a child."

"What? How?!"

"You tell me, Iona. You're the one who went to the crime scene."

"Right... Jeez, if it's a kid, I guess that'd explain why Petrov thought they weren't a threat..."

"My thoughts exactly. HQ has a fair amount of hearsay to go on, but nobody can quite agree on how old the child is, or whether or not she's with a Syndicate. Most agree that she appears to be a girl, tall for a child, auburn hair, clothes and demeanor typical of a Backstreets native."

"We got a name?"

"They've heard Yeri, Kali, Redbird, Suma, Aelfin... No one knows which is her real one, or if it's even any of them at all."

"Damn. ...Say, are you going to drink that entire pot of coffee?"

"Help yourself."

This is one of those stories that turned into an accidental AU when more of canon came out. The idea behind it is that it’s Kali’s backstory told entirely in conversations in which she did not participate, showcasing the fact that a Fixer’s fame is their livelihood and Kali was about as famous as they come, before the whole L Corp thing happened. Of course, the vast majority of the headcanons here got invalidated with a certain Ruina update, so my motivation’s kinda down on this one.

---

Going Back has already been talked about here!

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Ella Disenchanted - The Blackout Club - one-shot (maybe two-shot??) - 1.4k and counting

She woke. Her stomach went through a series of panicked flip-flops as she thought something strange had done it, Dad or a little-kid-nightmares shadow beast had made noise, but no - why had she fallen asleep in the first place? Her butt and shoulder were sore where they’d been leaning on the bottom and side of the windowsill, presumably all night, since the sun was full up over the trees on Old Growth Hill.

All night. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall asleep, but she did anyway. God dammit.

As she unfolded herself from her cramped ball, though, she froze. Under the comforter she’d pulled around her shoulders for warmth, she was wearing her gray jacket, a T-shirt, jeans, sneakers getting dried mud all over the carpet.

Last she remembered, she’d been in her pajamas.

In which a Blackout Club kid’s little sister wonders where he’s gone when he runs away to the boxcar, and tries to get to the bottom of the mystery herself. Usually she’d be too young for the club to recruit, but her investigations and an incident involving SAO are more than enough extenuating circumstance. Unlike most of my other WIPs, there’s a whole outline at the end of my doc for this one.

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Making Peace - Warframe - multi-chapter - 1.5k and counting

“I…” Iksoh finally said. “Sorna, I hope you realize. I’m not into this. I never - I’m not doing this. Whatever you’re doing, I can’t.”

“I know,” Sorna said softly. The decision tore at her heart again and she almost backed out of the vent, but no. She had to go. She wouldn’t see another innocent crumple in her rifle sights. “I hope you realize. I’m not coming back.”

Behind her, Iksoh let out a long, shaky breath. “It’s taking all I’ve got not to report you right now. Sorna… the Queens’ll have my head for this. Please, please, let it be worth it. Go. Don’t let them take yours.”

“I won’t,” Sorna promised, and meant it.

Later, after her last fight for her freedom was done, on the Steel Meridian ship headed for Kronia Relay, Sorna looked out at the planet retreating behind her and thought of Iksoh. She’d just learned a new word from a Meridian soldier: vaykor tal, the defector’s spirit. Iksoh had let her go, at risk of their own life. They’d had a bit of the vaykor tal themself, even if they hadn’t known it, even if they’d thought it was just some weakness that was bound to get them killed.

“Ranre treri, duf krun,” she whispered into space, a Grineer well-wishing passed down from sergeant to tube-fresh lancer since time immemorial. May your hands be steady, and may life be kind.

This is an AU born of me and some friends wondering why in the heck Perrin and the Meridian hate each other so much in game. It’s about a group of Kavor - Grineer defectors distinguished from other Meridian members by their pacifism - who get to a Relay and start wondering the same thing. Besides Sorna (and, later in the story, Iksoh as well), there would have been Chakh, Beket, and Sydon, plus at least four of the syndicate leaders and a bunch of side-character OCs, all caught up somehow in what turns out to be a surprisingly far-reaching web of intrigue.

The Slashed Circle - Warframe - one-shot, probably - 429 and counting

In addition to their written and spoken language, the Grineer have a full language of hand signs. It has its quirks, as all languages do - be careful of confusing it with the Corpus sign language, in which the sign for “to pay” roughly approximates the Grineer sign for...a certain portion of the male anatomy. Among these is the common Grineer sentiment against those who defect from their ranks, baked into the sign just as much as their spoken words.

The sign of the slashed circle, the sedashkur - a finger drawn in a circle on the chest, followed by a diagonal line - is the highest of taboos to any loyal Grineer. It shows support for such scum as the Kavor and Steel Meridian, enough so that it forms the basis for the Meridian’s battle standard. To sign the sedashkur is to betray your siblings, commit a grave insult to your superiors, paint a near-indelible target on your back. It is an object of hatred and fear throughout the ranks.

She fears it, yes, but she does not hate it, for all her life and into her death as well. It shouldn’t trouble her now, though. It is easy to hide a language, and she burned her journals before she was called to the fortress.

This is a fic about Jhia and her one (1) converted Kuva Lich, namely about the process of said Lich’s defeat and defection, that kinda never got off the ground. Contrary to this snippet, I think most of it would have been written in what are essentially space emails back and forth between Lich and Tenno? I definitely got as far as Jhia sending an audio recording of a bass-boosted dog fart, anyhow.

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Wake Up, Tenno - Warframe - one-shot - 950 and counting

“Wake up, Tenno.”

She wakes. She is - she is Tenno, right? She is a Tenno? Her mind is confused, so full of fog and dead ends - how long was she asleep?

The voice that woke her seems familiar. She might have loved the speaker, in her scrambled past life, the woman in the purple helmet, the one called Lotus in her HUD vision. Her surroundings are a ruin of some sort. Her body is—

...what?

She can move just fine. Her fingers and arms and legs respond with suspicious ease, given how long she must have slept to be this scattered upon waking up, and yet there’s some fundamental disconnect. This is her Warframe, her body, but it’s not her body somehow.

...wait, where did the term “Warframe” come from?

A Tenno, unnamed but intended to be Jhia on my end, wakes up on Earth at the very beginning of the in-game storyline. Since the tutorial has gotten an overhaul in recent months, I may have to modify even what little I have on this a lot.

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Midnight - Iconoclasts - poem - 280 and counting

been anything smaller than been anything

never been anything smaller than

“good morning, how’s miss grump doing today? i heard about that last mission...if you didn’t sleep well i can call you in sick, it’s alright-” “oh, shut up, grey”

there has never been anything

“oh, shut up, grey” “love you too”

smaller

“love you too”

than

A very fragmented, stream-of-consciousness-y poem meant to represent Agent Black’s failing sanity near the end of the game. The words of her famous one-liner (“there has never been anything smaller than me”) are interspersed, out of order until the end, with poetic descriptions of other characters and bits and pieces of a flashback involving Agent Grey.

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Heliotropism - Iconoclasts - one-shot - 1.1k and counting

Lily, though she’s superstitious, will have none of these self-important truths, none of these semblances of certainty when really all it is is wishing on Ivory and hoping for the best. She calls for Miss Andress instead.

A stout but severe woman with ten grandchildren and a great-grandchild on the way, Miss Andress is perhaps the quintessential matriarch: nurturing, selfless, brutally honest. She is the one the people of 17 trust when they feel they can trust no one else. Lily needs the kind of reassurance only she can give, with the authority of ninety-one years and the wisdom of two sons, one daughter, and some five dogs raised under her care.

When Miss Andress visits House 4, she asks Polro and Lily to each bring an object they cherish the most. For Polro it’s his largest wrench, pitted with use but still polished to a brassy shine; Lily surprises everyone by pulling out a tiny, unloaded stun-gun, and surprises them more by not explaining it at all. Miss Andress doesn’t question it. She just turns the two tools over and over in her hands, head bowed, squinting at them as if trying to read the secrets of the universe in the scratches carved into them by time.

Finally she straightens up and sighs, pushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. Her forehead is slick with sweat, though the night is cool outside. “I don’t know what she’ll do,” the wise woman says, heavily, as if delivering bad news. “I just know she’ll change the world.”

Can you tell I like backstory fic? This one is for Robin, with one short anecdote for each year of her life, up to age 17 and the events of the game. It’s also an excuse to world-build a bunch, lol.

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Arrhythmia - Crypt of the NecroDancer - one-shot(?) - 4k and counting

The creature didn’t say anything, just beckoned to the shadows. Before I could move, two other creatures came for me, sending the other humans - former humans? - scrambling away in panic. One landed a hard blow on the back of my head that sent me to my hands and knees, seeing sparks; the other said “Freeze!” and I could only watch as ice sprouted from the leaf litter, cementing me to the ground.

The one who’d hit me produced a dagger from the inside of its cloak. I tried to pull myself up, to do anything at all to keep myself from getting shanked, but it was no good. There must have been a secondary effect on that spell; my limbs wouldn’t respond. I felt the dagger tear cloth in the region of my back, and prepared for the pain.

It didn’t come. The creature cut a slit in the back of my tunic, then another. Neither one touched the skin at all. I can’t really describe what happened next - my brain was having trouble computing how my arms were in front of me, visible, unable to move, but it felt like the creature was pulling them through the gashes in my tunic, but that was wrong, they didn’t feel like arms at all.

“Holy fuck,” I heard someone say.

The ice holding me down melted into nothing as the spell wore off. I jumped back up, head spinning a little, ready for another fight, only to spot two flicks of scarlet in my peripheral vision. I spun around, but they moved with me.

I think I already knew what they were. I just couldn’t admit it to myself.

You’ve already seen this one, Nick, though I’m pretty sure it was well over two years ago. It’s a pile of old headcanons, some of them now outdated I’m pretty sure, about how Nocturna ended up a vampire in the first place and a little bit about how vampire society works. According to Google Docs, I’ve been stuck on this one since March 2018. Whoops.

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untitled (working title “adult citra meets an impostor bc what is self-control”) - Among Us - one-shot - 572 and counting

“I know. You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Having well and truly gotten their full attention, Citra continues, “God, I can barely imagine. Having to take a weird-ass host whose biology might even be toxic to you, I don’t know. Needing to get to a whole other galaxy, feeling like the only way to do that is by deception and death.” “How…?”

She sighs. “I told you, this isn’t my first rodeo. One of your kind saved my life when I was a kid. Since he’d killed Mom and Dad had been out of the picture long before, he stayed here and helped raise me afterward. It’s how I learned to pronounce...a few of your words, at least.”

“You missed the ‘H’ sound.”

“Isn’t that the one that’s literally impossible to do right with Terran anatomy?”

“Maybe. You think I know Terran anatomy all that well?”

Citra chuckles. “Fair point. You let us find your buddy and fix the ship, I’ll raise Xai when we get comms back and he can try and help you get home. Deal?”

I found an Among Us comic on Tumblr, absolutely ran into left field with it to make a couple of OCs, and then made AUs of those OCs because of course I did. This one is from a future scenario in which Citra (typically orange) meets someone rather familiar on a mission with the crew of the Skeld.

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untitled (working title “library of ruina but they adopt half the guests”) - Library of Ruina - length uncertain - 1k and counting

“And what happened to not caring about others because it’s a waste of time and heartache?”

Now it’s Roland’s turn to sigh. “I don’t care about him. I just don’t want the guilt of killing - look at him, he can’t be older than eighteen or nineteen!”

Raised eyebrow. “Finn will be twenty years old in fifteen days’ time. He is a legal adult. I fail to see why this should matter to either of us.”

“He’s fresh off his first Fixer license! I have years of experience! He had no idea what he was getting into when he signed that invitation and you know it!”

Angela fixes him with a glare that turns his stomach, his freshly remade body reacting to the memory of its sudden, and extremely painful, dismemberment. “I could quite literally hold your soul in my hands if I wanted,” she reminds him in an undertone of steel. “I must do the same for him, following the invitation’s guidance, or my entire plan will be lost, my coworkers’ sacrifices all for naught. Do not disappoint me or ask any more impertinent questions. You know what to do, and what will happen if you do not.”

Look, some of the people you fight in this game deserved so much better, okay? I came up with an AU concept where if a guest willingly concedes the fight and agrees to stick around, you can get their book without killing them. Finn doesn’t die; neither do Tomerry or Shi Association; all the former employees realize exactly what’s going on with Philip after the Wedge Office fight and manage to calm him down, avoiding the whole Crying Children situation. (And then Gebura makes him collect his jaw off the floor by revealing herself as the Red Mist.)

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The one that’s a D&D world concept doesn’t have anything concrete written for it yet. (Don’t read this bit if you might want to play in my campaign at some point!) Instead of your typical Forgotten Realms planar setup, the world at large would be called the Seven Spheres, each of them different in terms of climate, geography, native species and magic, etc. The First Sphere would be the most “generic” one (to our way of thinking) and the main setting of the campaign; it would also be the smallest of the Seven, its primary continent home to a former empire of dragons that spanned most of the Sphere until its mysterious fall a thousand years ago.

Now, since the empire fell, the dragons and their children have slowly been dying out. Best estimates are that there’s only a thousand or two left in the entire First Sphere, with fewer eggs hatched every decade. The player characters enter a world with pretty typical low-level quests to start with, but every so often, especially if they engage with optional story stuff (this would be a more roleplay-focused than combat-focused campaign), they get wind of changes in the air - a failed harvest here, an unusually hot and stormy summer there, a trade war once they start hitting mid-levels.

It mimics real-world climate change in all but cause. As coastal cities struggle to contend with rising seas and, more alarmingly, wizards all over the Sphere start to notice their magic falter and wane, the PCs’ goal becomes getting to the bottom of this. And what’s at the bottom is...your typical Nerd fusion of science with fantasy settings.

The Seven Spheres are not planes of existence in the normal D&D sense, but seven planets in the same solar system, each with its own ancient god far more powerful than any god in any mortal pantheon; the First Sphere is so named because it’s closest to the sun. These planetary gods are incredibly large and incredibly alien, thinking in geologic time and concepts far too broad and slow for most sapient beings to comprehend. A thousand years ago, the fall of the dragon empire was caused by an ill-advised ritual meddling with the god of the First Sphere’s natural process of rebirth, causing said god to die without a replacement.

It’s taken this long for the First Sphere to feel the effects because, again, geologic time - a thousand years is a blink of an eye in this kind of time scale. But now the ancient earth-magic that had kept the Sphere’s climate temperate and its magicians in business is failing. The dragons, as beings of magic intrinsically, have been failing all along. And now it’s up to the PCs, up at level 17-20 if not higher by that point, to figure out how to fix the situation and find a new planetary god for the First Sphere before the whole Sphere burns to death.

#bulletnick #wow this got long #you're right i did want to talk about all of them though

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drjackandmissjo · 4 years

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firewhisky on ice, sunset and vine

you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

Chapter 3 --- previous chapter --- next chapter

Harry Potter fics Masterlist

"Sorry, Blaise. Can't today." That had been the customary answer from none other than Draco Malfoy, prefect and general pain in Blaise's ass, despite still being one of his best friends. Since they had started their lectures, there had been an incredible array of excuses left and right, but enough was enough and all the brain abled Slytherins agreed it was time for an intervention.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Theo began protesting, in his usual disarmingly calm behaviour: "You've been saying that since the year started!" he all but yelled at the blonde, visibly losing his temper already.

"I'm busy okay, back off" came a defensive reply that left something to be expected, yet refused to lead on more.

"No, we're not backing off on this anymore" said Blaise, still seated down in front of his irritating Herbology textbook. He could also feel his temper rising, but managed to keep it contained, remembering the neat way the muscles of a certain Gryffindor boy pulled wherever he scribbled a tiny note on a piece of parchment and choosing to focus on that to remain calm. He was really grateful they didn't have a legilimens in their house, otherwise things would've been even more awkward that usual. "Is this because of your new fancy position?" he asked, mustering as little discomfort as possible in his words, although the mere idea bothered him infinitely.

Draco's face paled of all its blood, eyes darting to look behind them all and to asses that nobody was spying on their conversation. "You know very damn well I can't talk about it!"

"Draco, you shouldn't keep secrets, you'll get wrinkles!" said Pansy, gazing her perfectly manicured fingers as lazily as possible. Blaise had wondered for their entire first year if she truly did not care about anything in the world or if that was an act, but quickly discovered that she cared way too much on occasion and it was smothering to say the least.

But her nonchalant remark snapped Draco out of his mind, and he replied with a hissed "Shut the fuck up Parkinson or I'll hex you into next week."

Blaise and Theo both laughed at the attempted threat, doubling over themselves in laughter as Pansy snickered sprawled over her chair. "How, may I ask, do you suppose to do so?" she asked, her blood red lips gleaming from the light of the fireplace in front of her, "You haven't been paying attention to class as much as you used to. You spend all your time daydreaming or staring at Saint Potter's tush" she added in a matter of fact way, voicing the thought they all shared.

Whether Draco was distracted by whatever dirty deed the Death Eaters wanted him to do or by Saint Potter and his rather objectively well shaped backside, formed finely by years of riding a broom and training, he was still distracted nevertheless, and that wouldn't do well on their collective well-being.

The blonde moved abruptly back, yelling such a forced "I DO NOT" that nobody in their right state of mind would believe. It wasn't as if Draco was out and proud or had even remotely hinted anything, but merely from a muggle statistic point of view, a class which his mother had forced Blaise to attend during the summer and he was incredibly grateful for, it was most probable that he was some sort of queer than anything else. He spent way too much time preparing himself to even see Saint Potter in the hallways, messing his hair and slicking it back countless of times to just "show him and his loser group of friends that we're so much better!" , to be even remotely straight. All of them would still love and care for him either way, as they would for Blaise, but the young boy understood the blonde's reluctance to share that little piece of information.

"Yes, you do, you queer puff. Don't deny it" continued Pansy, not wanting to let the subject drop and inevitably side-tracking from their original battle plan. Many headaches of Blaise's were caused by Pansy's inability to follow a scheme and still the only cure he could think of was to remove her head from her shoulders and leave it on the fireplace. That would've lightened his tension for sure!

But Draco was having none of it: suddenly as red on his face as a Gryffindor robe, he stood up from the couch and began walking away towards the dormitory door, leaving their intervention unfulfilled and useless. Another reason behind Blaise's headaches was Draco's ability to ruin all his bloody plans and intentions.

"Enough with this bullshit" he called back, looking distraught and uneasy, "I don't need your help and surely you don't need mine so kindly fuck off all of you. Let me know when you drop all this crazy shit!"

Blaise followed suit, exiting through the portrait after his friend and catching him up once he was near the staircases. "The fuck you want now?" asked the blonde, ire and hatred lacing his words. Despite it all, Blaise couldn't help but notice how his roommate was shaking, fear deep in his eyes.

He knew he should've tried to comfort, he knew he should've been patient, yet he couldn't bring himself to: while it was true that Draco didn't want to get in those awful games the adults of his family played, he still swore to fulfil whatever duty was asked from him, without mentioning it to his best friends and closest allies. He had a choice and choose to cower before the Dark Lord, he gave in to the threats and the violence and the bloody stereotype that Slytherins were evil murderers.

So when he spoke finally, they weren't kind words those that came out of him: "I would've loved to spend some time with you, you stupid bitch, even if it was studying, cause we rarely even see each other anymore. You're so busy either stalking Potter or doing Salazar knows what on the fifth floor." He saw Draco's eyes widen, the fear turning into full panic and then blow away as if nothing had fazed him in usual Malfoy Manner. Another headache was coming and Blaise wondered if he could go to Madam Pomfrey and ask her " oh hello! Do you have anything to rid me of those terrible pains inflicted by my awful Death Eater roommate, along of those terrible housemates of mine? ". Now, that would surely be an interesting reaction.

"Shut up, Zabini, you don't even know what you're talking about!" Draco whispered violently, checking that nobody was eavesdropping in the empty corridor. "Well why don't you start explaining?" he fired back, standing his ground with his full height and towering over the blonde, who looked like he was about to pass out at any given moment.

" Merde " he said eventually, after having gathered his thoughts, "I cannot talk to anyone about this, okay? Not even you, no matter how hard you push. He'll kill my mum if I don't do it!" He sounded more exasperated than scared now, as if he had already rehearsed that same conversation, probably with himself.

Still, Blaise needed all the answers he could get, "You mean…?"

"Yeah."

" Porca puttana Eva ." He passed a hand over his face, going straight to his shortly cut hair as if to ground himself. He had had doubts, of course, anyone in their right mind would have them and he was really surprised nobody from Saint Potter's squad was onto him like a guard dog. But thinking is one thing, having those thoughts acknowledged and confirmed was another topic entirely. Blaise felt as if the ground would open up from the stone under their feet and swallow them both whole. "Worse ways to go " he thought blandly.

"Indeed. So all I can ask all of you to do is cover for me and have faith in what I'm doing."

He uttered a dry laugh, trying to hide the nervousness that conversation was suddenly giving him. "How can we do it if you don't even trust us?" he asked roughly, hurt and very pissed off.

Draco now looked in full disbelief, as if he had never enthralled the thought of someone not following him blindly before. He supposed it might be true, since in their previous years he was always eager to agree with the blonde. But after their fiasco with Umbridge, Blaise swore to took with a grain of salt everything. Including his friendships.

"How can I trust you lot? I'm marked. I swore an oath. When the time is right you'll be too and we'll take back what's rightfully ours."

"You talk like a madman, and hopefully I'll never have a seat at that table" he said, stumbling backwards. 'Rule number thirteen: men are easily lead and get foolish as soon as they get a taste for any type of power or violence. Do not become like one of those' his mother told him and he didn't plan on disappoint her anytime soon.

"I'm gonna go back and study for the quiz tomorrow, and I highly suggest you do to" he said dryly after a while, regarding his friend with as little interest and concern as he could. And he then turned around, ignoring Draco's feeble attempt to snatch his attention back. For a seeker, he was trash at his job.

As soon as he crossed the threshold of the portrait, he was flooded with questions from his fellow housemates, but they all immediately shut up at the thunderous look on his face. Theo seemed to catch on and simply raised an eyebrow at Blaise, who pointedly ignored his roommate and moved back to his Herbology textbook. There had been whispers among the Pureblood Slytherins, many parents having fallen back into old habits and already planning the coming of their children. Blaise had not truly acknowledged those words, choosing to ignore them, never revealing his disdain towards so many of his friends' families.

His father had been amongst those and had perished when his mother was still pregnant, and she and his grandparents had raised him to loathe that idiotic, medieval, misogynistic and racist behaviour. " White idiots think like that, and you are neither" had told him his mother the first time he had brought up the Dark Lord and his antics. He agreed.

Struggling to concentrate, he tried to remember if asphodel was considered by the ancient Greeks the food of the dead or of the nymphs, but his mind was full of worries.

He definitely needed to go to the infirmary for a headache remedy very soon.

Glossary:

"Merde" s French for "shit" cause we all know that Draco's pretentious ass swears in French "Porca puttana Eva" Is basically "Holy burning shit" literally is "that fucking bitch of Eve"

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alecthemovieguy · 5 years

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Being Nicole

‘Supergirl’ star Nicole Maines’ passion for transgender rights makes her super in real life, too

Transgender activist and actor Nicole Maines knew she was a girl around the age of 3 or 4.

“My case is kind of unique because I have a twin brother (Jonas),” she told Ellen Degeneres during an appearance on “Ellen” in 2018. “So, growing up with him, he was identifying with all these male things and feeling very comfortable in his body, and I wasn’t.”

Maines, the subject of the Mount Washington Valley’s One Book One Valley community read “Becoming Nicole,” slowing began publicly transitioning in the first grade, and officially presented herself as female in the fifth grade, when she changed her name from Wyatt to Nicole.

Maines, who is turning 22 on Oct. 7, became the center of the precedent-setting Maine Supreme Judicial Court case Doe v. Regional School Unit 26 regarding gender identity and bathroom use in schools. Maines had been barred from using the female bathroom after a complaint, but the court ruled that denying a transgender student access to the bathroom consistent with their gender identity is unlawful.

In 2018, Maines debuted as Nia Nal/Dreamer, television’s first transgender superhero, on “Supergirl.” She is returning as a series regular for season five which premieres Sunday, Oct. 6, at 9 p.m. on The CW.

One Book One Valley has a series of events throughout October culminating in an evening with “Becoming Nicole” author Amy Ellis Nutt on Thursday, Oct. 24, at 7 p.m. at Loynd Auditorium at Kennett High School in North Conway, N.H. In addition to Nutt, the plan is to have the Maines family be part of the discussion through a Skype connection.

I recently talked with Maines about growing up transgender, activism, privilege and the upcoming season of “Supergirl.”

“Becoming Nicole” is beautifully written, but it is very journalistic and academic in its approach. Is there anything you would’ve done differently or included in telling that story?

I don’t know. I think, of course, Amy did a phenomenal job, and I am so happy with how the book came out because I think it really does have something for everyone, whether or not you’re just starting to learn about transitioning and you’re looking for something new. But there was so much that had to be cut out in the final editing process and, unfortunately, a lot of what did get cut out was original writing from Jonas’ perspective. I don’t know if it was something I would’ve done differently, I think it is more of a shame that it couldn’t make it into the final cut. It was just so long before it was cut. So, I do hope at some point people do get to see that because it is really, really beautiful.

In “Becoming Nicole,” a therapist told your parents that you weren’t transgender because you were peeing standing up. What are some other examples you’ve encountered of misinformation about what transgender is?

Where do I even begin? So many people think that it is one of those things that you can kind of slap a label on and say, “This is what this is,” and with something as expansive as gender it is really impossible to paint it as very black and white. So many people have tried to say “Oh, all trans people look like this. This is how you spot a trans person.” And that’s 1) offensive, and 2) not true or realistic.

I think a lot of that has to do with how historically we are represented in the media: men in dresses and this and that. It is so much more expansive than that. No one group of people looks a certain way, and it is dangerous to try to categorize people like that. So, I think besides the peeing standing up, which is ridiculous, what is equally ridiculous is the idea that some people think that they can spot a trans person, and that’s sort of the whole basis of their argument.

You know how sometimes you read certain blogs or you read certain Twitter accounts just to make yourself mad? I stumbled across one, it was a really popular TERF account — which stands for trans-exclusionary radical feminists, which is pretty much feminists who believe trans women aren’t women, and they use recycled rhetoric from the ’70s saying that trans women are just men trying to invade women’s spaces and stupid shit like that. It was this person going on and on about, like, “Oh, none of you pass. None of you look like women. Yada yada yada.” And I was like, 1) no room to talk because her haircut was atrocious, and 2) come say it to my face. It really made me mad. It is atrocious that people think they can spot something like that. It is ridiculous.

It is kind of like the back-handed compliment that I receive a lot, that is “Oh, you don’t look trans,” or “Oh, never really would’ve guessed.” A lot of the time, I try not to jump on people for that because I know it is coming from a place where they’re trying to give me a compliment, but what does trans look like? What did you think I was going to look like?

And, of course, everyone thinks that we are supposed to look like men in dresses, which — even if we did — is rude as hell to say something like that because, not only is that stupid, but it is also reinforcing negative beauty standards among women, not just trans women, but women. Because you hear about the bathroom bills and they are like, “Oh, we are going to enforce no trans people in bathrooms.” Well, how are you going to enforce that? And then you get cases of cis women getting kicked out of the bathrooms because they look more masculine than others. Even for cisgender women that is not a black and white line. People look different, and it is totally unfair and unreasonable to say just because someone has harder features than somebody else that this is what is going on in your pants. That feels like a wild, crazy assumption to me.

So, obviously your father always loved you, but he struggled with your identity. Was there a specific moment when you finally felt truly seen by him?

I know a lot of moments where he really started having light bulb moments. I think for me, one of the first moments where I felt like I started being seen was when I started wearing girl’s clothes to school. My transition started going there slowly, but between second and third grade I had gone from wearing longer hair to wearing girl’s clothes all the time. I don’t know if it was even just my father, but by everyone, but that is when I started feeling like I was being seen. Then in fifth grade was when I had fully transitioned. I was allowed to pierce my ears and I was allowed to wear skirts and dresses. That really felt like I am seen. And then, of course, when my father finally started fighting for me. Because I knew, at that point, he still didn’t fully understand, but when he started defending me and defending my transition and my using the girl’s bathroom, I felt like I had him on my side.

I love last season of “Supergirl.” One of my favorite moments was when Nia Nal/Dreamer publicly announced herself as both an alien and a transgender woman because it put a positive face on a group who were being demonized in the show. How important do you think it is to give a face to marginalized people?

It is incredibly important. The best way to fight against marginalization and the most effective way that we fight back against people who are trying to erase us is with visibility. When you have an administration who, for incidents in a crazy hypothetical, removed me from the 2020 census, then the best way to combat that is to be more visible than ever. By saying, OK, you’re trying to make people think that we are not valid, you’re trying to make people think we don’t exist and that we are not solid and valid in our identities and our existence. Well, then we are going to show you that we are. We are going to show you: no, you cannot ignore us because we are here and it doesn’t really matter what you believe. It doesn’t really matter if you say, “Well, I don’t really believe in transgender.” Well, it isn’t really something for you to believe in because whether you like it or not, we are here. We exist and that’s not a matter of opinion. You do not get to choose whether or not my identity is valid because I am not doing it for you and we are not going to let you erase that. So, I think visibility is the number one method of defense against erasure.

Based on the trailer, the new season of “Supergirl” partially deals with the betrayal and anger Lena Luthor feels toward Carol Danvers hiding her identity of Supergirl from her. This seems like an apt metaphor for the similar sense of betrayal, hurt and confusion some people feel when a loved one comes out as trans or gay. Do you think that is intentional?

I don’t know if it was intentional. I think because there are so many different layers with Carol and Lena’s relationship, and especially with the Kryptonian-Luthor relationship. I think it is hard to boil it down to just that, because I get why Lena is upset and I get why those feelings are floating around, but personally, I’m kind of like nobody owes any facet of their identity to anybody but themselves. If they did not feel that they wanted to share a part of their identity with you, you don’t get to be mad about that. That is something that belongs entirely to them and if they did not choose, for whatever reason to disclose that part of themselves, that’s not because you necessarily did anything wrong, that’s because they had a choice and that’s not necessarily on them either. But, like I said, it is different between being trans and being a superhero. It is hard because, at the same time, it is like, “Oh, you were treating me like Lex, and I’m not Lex. You can trust me.” So, there’s a whole bunch of other stuff floating around, but I don’t know if it was a 100 percent intentional, but there are definitely connections.

That’s the great thing about sci-fi is that it can always be used as a metaphor for exploring social issues.

Absolutely.

How will Nia Nal be challenged in the new season?

The theme of this season is communication, and so something Nia is struggling with the first chunk of the season is communicating with how she feels with Brainiac because they’ve been dating and they have been having communication issues. Neither of them are the best at relationships, and so this is kind of a new area for her and she’s trying to work out, “How do I express how I feel without hurting you?” And that’s something she struggles with a lot. It is being open and honest with how she’s feeling and trying not to bottle up what she is feeling for the sake of other people.

What I also really love about Nia Nal is when she puts herself out there — kind of going off the whole thing of passing — she does pass as both a human and a woman, and so she doesn’t need to put herself out there, but by doing so she empowers others. Do you also try to lead by example in your own life?

Absolutely, I recognize 100 percent as Nia and as Nicole that I have an insane amount of privilege. I’m white and, like you said, I pass and I’m on TV. And I mention that I am on TV because when we look at issues like HB2 and we look at bathroom bills and stuff like that, that is not necessarily going to affect me as someone who passes and as someone who is in Vancouver. I’m working in Vancouver, HB2 will not affect me. I am not there. But I recognize that there are issues that are affecting members of my community who don’t have the same significant platform that I do. And so it is my responsibility as a member of that community, as someone with that platform, to lift them up and to start to shine a light on issues that are affecting members of my community, even if I personally will not feel the impact of that harmful legislation.

It is important and that’s what we talk about in feminist circles. We are always talking about how can people with privilege use that privilege to lift others up, to better the situation of others who don’t have those some privileges. We ask that of men, we ask that of white people, we ask that of abled-body people, of trans women who pass. We ask that people use their privilege responsibly. And so that is what I try to do and I hope that I am succeeding. I just try to use my platform and use my voice to talk about issues that I feel matter.

Going back to “Becoming Nicole,” the book discusses “The Little Mermaid” as a metaphor for being transgender because Ariel doesn’t feel she belongs in the ocean and everyone tells her you have to be with your own people blah, blah, blah. Ariel was one of your favorite characters growing up, do you feel even at a young age you were drawn to this character because your struggle paralleled her struggle?

I guess subconsciously, yes, but on a surface level, I liked mermaids. I don’t know why I liked it so much and that’s why I say subconsciously I was drawn to it. I remember loving that more than anything else. I loved everything about her. I remember I was like, “That is what I want for myself.” I was like, “She is so beautiful, and she is so graceful,” which is not a trait that I’ve been able to replicate in my own life. I remember being so drawn to her, and I was like “Mom, Dad, that is what we are going for. That is the look.” Between her and, I’ve said it before, Storm from the X-Men. I remember watching “X-Men: The Animated Series” as as kid and she had that hair and the cape and was like “Oh, that’s drama. I love it.”

And now you have your own cape.

Well, metaphorically speaking. I don’t have a superhero cape. I feel a little cheated.

Well, maybe you can get one.

No, I have the best supersuit. It is shiny and holographic. It is awesome.

One part I really liked in “Becoming Nicole,” I think it was before you were going to enter fifth grade, you were asked what kind of story you’d tell and you said it would be this mystery/comedy/fantasy with a sassy character and a sidekick who was even sassier. If you were to write that story now what do you think it would look like?

Oh my God. Well, it would definitely have the sassy character and the sassier sidekick, because I remember growing up I was always the biggest fan of the sassy comic relief characters, which is why I tried to play that role in my own regular life, which took some getting used to. I remember in middle school people didn’t exactly get the whole me trying-to-be-funny and I think it just came across as annoying. If I was going to write that story now, I think it would absolutely be about murder that would be the mystery. The comedy that would manifest itself in probably macabre, offbeat humor about murder. And then the fantasy ... they are all vampires. I’m just describing “Bit.”

I haven’t been able to find anyway to watch “Bit” (which stars Maines as a transgender teen who falls in with four queer feminist vampires, who try to rid Los Angeles' streets of predatory men), but I am very interested in that film. What was it like making that?

It was so amazing and I hope you’ll be able to watch soon. Right now, it is making its festival rounds, and hoping someone will choose to distribute it, and we’re like, “Pay us, please!” It was so incredible. Everyone on set was amazing and our writer/director Brad Michael Elmore is the coolest dude on the planet. I was talking about using our privilege to tell stories that matter and to raise up minority voices, and that’s absolutely what he did in this situation. I know a lot of the festivals we have gone to have been feminist festivals and gay festivals, and we’ve had a significant amount of people kind of be like, “Oh, you were written by a straight cis white guy,” and we’re like,“Yeah, and he’s doing exactly what we want him to be doing, which is using his privilege to create this super awesome movie featuring queer and interracial talent, this intersectional group of feminists.” We had a female DP which how awesome is that? We had this super awesome kaleidoscope of different identities in this film and I feel like some folks are very quick to write it off because it was written by a straight cis white guy. 1) I don’t feel that is fair to Brad, and 2) I don’t think that is fair to the movie. The movie is so cool and the movie deals with such cool issues and it approaches them all in such a fucking awesome way. To write it off because of who our director is feels very shortsighted.

And obviously you wouldn’t say or do anything that felt disingenuous to your own experience.

Yes, absolutely. I was like, “Ye of little faith.”

When you were 13 years old you went to the Maine statehouse and spoke to dozens of representatives to convince them to vote against a bill that would make it legal to discriminate against trans people. Do you have any interest in getting into politics either working for a campaign or as a candidate yourself?

I think I would be willing to support someone else’s campaign. Politics are not for me. I do not have the stomach for that. I do not have the patience for that. I know where my lane is and it is absolutely not going for an elected position. I am more the person who shows up when the politicians are not doing what they are supposed to be doing. That’s when I get involved.

The big thing I took away from “Becoming Nicole” was that prejudice and hate is something that is taught, because the boy who started harassing you the most was told by his grandfather that you were wrong and that he should go after you. And so I guess the question is, what do you do to undo these wrongheaded lessons that are passed down by parents or grandparents?

I think the first step comes from within. You cannot make anybody do anything. You cannot make somebody unlearn hate and prejudice. That journey has to start with themselves. With my father — and, of course, he was never outwardly hateful or anything, I always knew he loved me — but his journey to acceptance started with him deciding to pick up Jennifer Finney Boylan’s book (about being a transgender woman) and read it. He had to ask himself what he was so afraid of if his son was his daughter. He had to ask himself what about that terrified him so much. And that’s what every person has to do.

Every person has to be aware of their own prejudices and their own biases. We all have them. We have to be aware of them. We have to actively work to undo them because it is something we are taught, not even just by our parents or caretakers, but through television and society. We are pumped full of biases and prejudices that we are not even aware of, and so we have to pay extra care and extra caution to do undo those. And when we catch ourselves, we have to recognize, “No, that’s not right” and go from there.

It has to be a conscious choice, and so that is hard. It is a hard thing to do. It is a really gross feeling to try to unlearn stuff like that, and so a lot of people won’t do that because a lot of people are more comfortable being like, “No, I don’t get it, that’s gross, I don’t like it and I’m going to hate it.” That is much easier and much more comfortable then asking yourself what you are afraid of. As socially responsible participants in the community, we have a responsibility to ask that question anyway. All of us have to ask that question and not just about trans issues, because if we don’t do that, if we are looking for what is easy and what is comfortable at the expense of other people, then stay inside.

And I feel like the biggest thing is if you’re afraid of a gay person or trans person or black, Hispanic, whatever social issue, if you actually talk to these people that you are afraid of, that you’d see that they are just human beings.

That is the number one thing. It is so much easier to marginalize a group of people when you are not putting names to faces, when we are not putting faces to groups, when you are dehumanizing them. It is so much easier to sweep their plights under the rug and be like, “Oh, they don’t matter,” because you are not talking to them, you’re not seeing them as people. That’s why I always say, “Come say it to my face.” It is so much harder to be an asshole to someone’s face because you have to look them in the eye and tell them their rights don’t matter.

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bel0vedmendes · 6 years

Text

An Angel Among the Angels: Part 2

Shawn Mendes X Reader

*Part one*

Word Count: 3,066

Warnings: Language, mentions of Anxiety and Panic Attacks.

Description: Y/N is working behind the scenes at the VS Fashion Show, and Shawn has his sights set on her. She can’t believe he would even look her way, considering they're literally surrounded by Angels.

A/N: Helllllllo lovelies. I appreciate all the love I got on part 1, I hope part 2 is everything you hoped. Let me know what you think and if you want a part 3! The first part is posted on my original page ( @bel0vedbanshee). I will be posting from this account going forward. Thanks! xx

**NOT MY GIF**

We skipped over all of the awkward post first date stuff. He wasn’t one to let that happen. He was easy to talk to, and I think he felt the same about me. So that’s what we did, we talked.

Shawn was a busy boy, and I was extremely busy myself. That didn’t keep us from communicating regularly. If he wasn’t texting me, he was snapping me. If he wasn’t snapping me, he was face timing me.

“Let me see, I’m sure its not that bad.” I soothe, picking my phone up from its propped position to get a better look. Shawn takes his phone and turns the flash on, flipping the camera screen. He opens his mouth wide showing me his tonsils that he swears are swollen. I bite my bottom lip once I see that he isn’t kidding.

“See, I told you.” He rasps, flipping the camera around to selfie mode. His face being swallowed by his hoodie. I take the phone and walk to bed so that I could really pay attention to the boy through the screen.

“Im sorry you feel like shit.” I say with a baby voice, giving him a weak smile.

“Its okay, just keep me company.” He turns in bed so that he’s laying on his side. I so desperately wish I was in the bed laying next to him. I take a deep breath and glance away from the bundle of cuteness.

“So, what are you going to do about your shows?” I ask toying with the strings on my hoodie.

“I have a doctors appointment tomorrow to see just how bad it is. Hopefully I don’t have to cancel.” He mumbles, sighing once he’s done. His face is flushed and his hair is a beautiful mess.

“I… I really hate seeing you like this.” I say quietly, mimicking the way he is laying in bed.

He smiles softly, staring at me through the phone.

“I really wish you were here, Y/N.” He whispered, his face dropping the façade he had been holding up.

I just nodded, and we laid like that for almost an hour until he fell asleep. I wasn’t used to seeing him that way. Every time we had talked or face timed before he was a completely different person. He was upbeat, and flirty. Sometimes I couldn’t tell if he was putting on an act for me, or if it was really him. Tonight though, that was 100 percent Shawn. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he felt comfortable enough with me to be that vulnerable. It made me wonder if there was more to our relationship than flirty phone calls, and a one night rendezvous. I really hoped it was more.

_______________________________________________________________

The next morning, I headed into work early at the request of my boss. He needed to talk to me about something important. This was the same morning Shawn was going to see the doctor. We texted each other on our way to calm the nerves. I knew he didn’t want to hear that he needed a break, but deep down everyone knew he did. In the few weeks since we had seen each other it was flight after flight, show after show. He would never in a million years say that it was too much, so his body decided to make the decision for him.

Y/N: It’ll be fine, Shawn. If you’re sick and need to take a break the fans will understand okay?

Shawn: Nope, I’m not sick. I’m not even gonna think it.

Y/N: You couldn’t even talk on the phone. But… okay.

Shawn: Don’t sass me.

Y/N: Just saying, don’t stress okay?

Shawn: I wont if you don’t. Deal?

Y/N: I don’t know about that but okay. Ill text you when I’m out.

Shawn: Okay, Ill let you know when I hear something.

Y/N: good luck <3

Shawn: good luck Honey xx

Honey. I couldn’t help but melt when he used pet names. I got out of my car and walked into the building. Passing the receptionist, waving as she greeted me. Finally arriving to my Bosses office and tapping on the door before I stepped inside. He pulled himself away from his computer and hugged me as I walked inside closing the door behind him. I took a deep breath, that meant business. He ushered me to have a seat.

“So, Y/N, I just wanted to talk to you about the Victoria Secret Fashion Show, how did it go?” He asked

“I feel like it went great! I was pretty nervous but everything went incredibly smooth!” I sung. I couldn’t help but sweat. I knew I did my job well, and I really couldn’t think of a reason I would be in trouble.

“I only heard amazing things about you!” He praised, pulling out a manila envelope from his desk.

“Good! I really enjoyed it!” I said, finally able to breathe again.

“We had so many people gushing about how amazing you were! Everyone from staff to models, even some of the performers!” He raves raising his eyebrows. My eyes instantly widen, wondering what Shawn could have said about me.

“That being said, I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to work our next show in Paris?” He asks, taking a plane ticket out of the envelope and sliding it across the table. I pick it up noticing that it’s for tomorrow and I would be gone for a week.

“Oh.. my god. Paris?! Are you serious!” I hold the ticket in shock

“You would leave tomorrow, that wont be a problem will it?” He smiles

“No! No, of course not. Thank you so much, this is incredible!” I take the ticket, and he gives me the entire envelope that includes all of the details I may need about the trip. He talks me through my roll, and what I can expect.

“Y/N, keep up the amazing work, I only expect great things from you.” He praises as he pulls me into a hug. I thank him a million more times before walking to my car in a complete daze. I feel my pocket vibrating and I gasp realizing Shawn had probably finished at the doctor. I sit down in my front seat, pressing the green button on my phone. A curly headed, rosy cheeked boy shows up through my screen. He was visibly upset.

“Hi.” He whispered, laying his head back on the seat.

“Bad news?” I question, picking up on his body language.

“Yep, I have to take a break for a while. She gave me some antibiotics though.”

“Im really sorry, Shawn.” I murmured.

“It’ll be fine, like you said, the fans will understand.” He said, forcing himself to smile. I smiled back and nodded at him.

“So uhm, since I have some free time, I was wondering if maybe I could come see you?” he asks nervously. My mind went blank. All I wanted was to see him, but I also just told my boss I would fly to Paris for a once in a lifetime opportunity. Fuck. I was apparently quiet for too long, because Shawn instantly started to freak out and explain himself… typical.

“I just thought… you know… if you wanted to.” He stutters, his hand rubbing the back of his neck making me smile.

“I want to see you Shawn.” I smile, laughing quietly as I watch him viably relax.

“But, I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow. My boss loved how I did at the VS show and is sending me to work a show in Paris for a week.” I frowned into the phone.

“Are you kidding?! That’s awesome Y/N!” He smiled a genuine smile, making me melt into my seat.

“You’re not mad?” I ask tugging my lip between my teeth.

“Of course not, how could I be mad at you. I’m a little sad though.” He tilts his head, watching me as I put my keys into the car.

“Honestly, I'm pretty upset about it too,” I sigh, “I would really like to see you.”

Shawn just nods, with a pathetic smile on his face. I hate that I couldn’t make it work.

We finished up our updates and ended our face time. I drove back to my place and immediately started to pack. Incredibly overwhelmed with anxiety, which lead to me over packing by a long shot. I fell asleep after talking to an incredibly bored Shawn for about an hour. Shooting up in bed 4 hours later, realizing I had hit snooze a few too many times. I gathered my bags as fast as I possibly could, knowing I was inevitably forgetting something. I checked for the important stuff and rushed down to my Uber that was taking me to the Airport. Next thing I knew I was sitting in my seat, as the plane took off into the sky. I took my medicine to help me relax, and I slowly drifted to sleep. Thoughts of a curly headed boy entertaining my brain as I did.

After a long day of work, and being incredibly overwhelmed, I finally got back into my hotel room. Tossing my purse onto the ottoman in the corner of the room and collapsing onto the bed. I deep sigh escaping my body, mixed with an annoyed moan. When I was asked to work in Paris, I knew that it would be a challenge. No one does fashion like Paris does. I had confidence in myself though. After today, I was slowly starting to doubt that. My chest instantly started to tighten. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that maybe I wasn’t cut out for this. I sat up in my bed and went to get my phone from my purse. Usually when I felt this way I called my dad for reassurance, he was pretty good at knowing what to say. Yet this time, I didn’t call my dad. I didn’t realize I was face timing Shawn until he his face appeared through the screen. He picked up and held a finger up, signaling me to hold on. I could hear the sound of a movie and a few people talking in the background. He closes the door to what I assume is his bedroom, and gets comfortable on his bed. He stacks some pillows behind him and leans back against his headboard. Smirking into the phone.

“I was hoping you would call.” He rasps

“Are you okay to talk to me for a little bit?” I smile back, wondering if his throat felt any better.

“Yeah, Im a lot better.” He clears his throat. “Is everything okay, you seem off?” his eyebrows squishing together.

I attempt to smile, but another sigh escapes my mouth.

“What’s up, Honey?” he soothes.

“Nothing… I just. I don’t know. Today was insane. I don’t know if I can do this.” I stutter, as tears start to fill in my eyes. The look on his face becoming more serious. Sure, Shawn and I had many conversations. Up until now the conversations had been light and flirty. Or me talking to him about slowing down, and making sure we was taking care of himself. I was never the one to be vulnerable when we talked though, which is why he knew this was serious. He nodded his head as I ranted about how defeated I was after today. I told him that I was completely out of my element and the people around me were so seasoned.

“Listen Y/n, you’re amazing at your job. You know you are. Just breath and believe that.” He smiled into the phone speaking with conviction. I listened intently, hanging onto ever word he said.

He talked about when he feels that way and what he does to overcome it. He was the perfect person to talk to about this.

“You’re right. I can do this. Its different and different can be scary, but Ill be fine.” I smiled into the phone. Glancing at the timer, realizing we had been talking for a little over an hour. I yawn into the phone, rubbing my eyes.

“Wow, its late.” I mutter

“Do you want to go to sleep?” He asks turning in bed, so that he was laying on his side. I mimic his actions.

“I mean, I should.” I giggle. “But I would rather talk to you.” I say, not quite ready to give up talking to him.

“Good. I’ve waited to talk to you all day.” He whines adorably. I silently laugh, rolling my eyes at his neediness.

“Wait, do you have people over? Do you need to go?” I asked concerned, last thing I wanted was for his friends or family to be mad at me for stealing their precious Shawn time.

“No, its just a few friends. Believe me their glad you called, I’ve been bugging them all day about whether or not I should call you.” He admits, a rosy tint instantly coating his cheeks.

“You know… you can call me whenever you want. I always wanna talk to you.” I reassure him.

“You’ll regret saying that, Im gonna annoy the shit out of you now.” He teases, with a hint of seriousness lacing his voice. I laugh at him, scoffing, telling him that I could never get annoyed by him. I laugh at him for a few minutes, as he tells me all the ways he’s going to annoy me. Our laughing starts to die down, and he folds his arm, resting his head on his hand.

“I really love hearing you laugh.” He said quietly, but confidently.

“I love that you can make me laugh, thank you for talking me down.”

He nods, “So when do you get some time off to explore?” he asks, as he gets up from his bed and walks out into his hallway.

“The day after tomorrow, I get two days off.” I say watching him move through his condo, the voices from his living room becoming louder.

“I had a really great tour guide when I was there, maybe I could get his information for you?” He asks as his friends start to appear behind him to see the girl on the other side of the screen. He shoo’s them away, and I start to laugh as they start to comment on the conversation. ‘Damnnn Shawn’, ‘I’ll be her tour guide’ , and other boyish comments being made in the background clearly being said to irritate Shawn. He shakes his head at his friends trying not to smirk, I start to laugh. I tell him that I would love to have a tour guide and he promises to send me the information.

“Okay, I’m going to bed, go hang with your boys.” I say pulling my cover up around me, smiling tiredly into the phone. He chuckles at me.

“Goodnight, Honey. You’re going to kill it tomorrow.”

“Night Shawn.”

_______________________________________________________________

The next morning I woke up with an adorable message from Shawn once again reassuring me of my own awesomeness. I couldn’t believe I was getting attention from a boy like this, he was too perfect sometimes. He also asked me for all of my hotel information so that the tour guide could meet up with me. I told him I could figure all the details out if he gave me his number, but he insisted on sorting everything out so that I could focus on work. If I had learned anything from my few months talking to Shawn, I knew that when he insisted on something there was really no point to argue. I just agreed and told him to let me know if I needed to do anything. After that we really hadn’t talked all day, a few text here and there but he was definitely not as annoying as he had planned to be. I got to the event building and did some deep breathing before walking in and starting my task for the day.

Lunch time came around in no time, I called Shawn to tell him how much better my day was going but he didn’t answer. I figured he was probably spending time with his family and I would hopefully get to talk to him later. I finished my work for the day, and my driver came to pick me up and take me back to my hotel. On the way there I attempted to call Shawn again but it went straight to voicemail once again. I tried my hardest not to be upset, but I really only wanted to talk to him. Which got me to think about how I felt about him. Was it appropriate to feel that way about someone you’ve only met one time? Shawn was so caring, supportive, smart, and funny. I found myself smiling at all the things that I loved about this boy’s personality. I instantly decided that even if I wasn’t sure about my feelings, I was sure that he came into my life for a reason. Whatever that reason may be, I guess we would find out.

I finally arrived back at the hotel, grabbing my purse and walking up to my room. I get inside and start to flip through the hotel’s menu for room service. Ultimately deciding that I would change into some warmer clothes and find something to eat outside the hotel, I was in Paris after all. As I was getting dressed, the hotel room phone started to ring. I walked over to it curiously and picked it up. The woman on the other end with a thick accent telling me that my tour guide was here to meet me. My eyebrows scrunched together, wondering why this tour guide was here on the wrong day. Thinking maybe the details were messed up, I told the woman to send him up. I hung up the phone, if anything maybe this guys could help me find somewhere to eat. I walked over to the door after hearing a light knock, opening it quickly.

My eyes instantly meet a pair of familiar light brown ones. His smile wide and beaming. I felt like I was hallucinating.

“Hi, I’m your tour guide. Is it okay if I’m a little early?” He says with a cheesy French accent, smiling down at me before pulling me into his arms.

_____________________________________________________________

A/n: Please let me know what you think! Part 3? Follow my new account :)

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes imagine #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes x reader #shawn x reader #shawn x y/n #fanfic #fluff

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amara-scott · 6 years

Text

Twisted Tummy.

part one

TV Show: The Walking Dead Characters: Negan x Reader

__________________________________________________

summary: Negan found you among Alexandria and took you, not happy with your words. But can you even make it to the Santuray?

__________________________________________________

There was no doubt that he could be the devil himself, pure evil only alive to end all living at some point. But a small part of me actually believed he wanted to be more than that. Save the people that want to be saved. There was just one twist to that.

They had to live in his bubble.

Being raised a completely different way, I still sometimes try to understand what excatly had to happen to him that he became who he is today.

I gave up mostly but something kept him in my mind. They way he behaved and acted. Was it all just for show? Did he actually believe what he said? That it was alright?

One thing I do know is to never test his temper. Don't be rude on purpose and never let a wrong word slip out accidentally. It was hard. Especially because dad kept me hidden with Judith most of the time. I think Negan never actually saw me. I wasn't lined up when the cruel night happend, and I sure wasn't allowed to make myself present now.

"Emilia?" I glance away from the window, the trucks left and I hear dad's footsteps coming up the stairs. He opens the door and I push myself off the window frame, he walks over and kisses my head.

"How's your little sister doing?" He asks and we both glance at Judith, her small fingers curling around a teddy bear as she talks to him.

"She's fine, dad. What did Negan want?" He sighs and squats down to tickle Judith's neck. Her giggle filling the room.

"Nothing, are you hungry? Because I could-" I huff and dad looks up, stopping mid-sentence. He stands up and motions towards the door.

"We'll be right back, Judy." She nods and goes back to playing, I walk out, waiting for dad in the hallway. He closes the door and I turn towards him. I cross my arms.

"Why do you shut me out?" I ask, biting my lower lip. I have a feeling why, but I want to hear it from him.

"I don't shut you out- I try to protect you, you and Judith. You don't need to be involved in this." I raise an eyebrow, wanting to laugh at how weak that argument was.

"But you let Carl, my little brother, stand right next to you while they point guns at everyone. And you want me to stand in the house because you don't want me to be involved? Don't you think it's a little too late for that?" I have my hands by my sides as I finish, feeling my palms getting sweatty as I get more furious.

"Emilia- you don't understand-"

"-damn straight I don't understand!" I storm past him, not stopping when he calls my name. He doesn't follow me, staying upstairs with Judith. I exit the house, trying to not draw any attention to me. But something catches mine. The gate opens again, a single truck rolling in, slowly. My feet stop walking forward. Instead I turn around to go back inside. But before I open the door, I glance over my shoulder. Negan himself jumps out the truck.

The rage I feel, still feel after talking to dad, clouds my head with all the things I always wanted to tell Negan. Everything. I take a breath and decide to join Michonne, who looks at Negan with that same hatred that I feel in this moment. I storm over, not stopping next to her after all. I keep walking even as Negan's eyes follow my figure, a dirty smirk on his bearded face.

Then there is a smack. My hand collides with his cheek, stinging my skin from the impact. His head tilted to the side.

He glances back at me, his head moving slowly. No anger on his face. More amusement, only adding to the fire spreading in me.

"Nice to meet you too, and who the fuck are you?" My eyes narrow at him, his smirk only growing now. But this time it isn't a dirty one. It's an angry one, so I got under his skin after all. I smile proudly, taking a step back, feeling that we stood too close for my comfort.

"Emilia!" I turn around, dad introducing me himself. He runs over, pulling me by the arm, ready to put me in my prison again. I try to get his hand off. Only one thing makes him stop.

"-Hey Rick, why don't you introduce the little charm bomb to me before you fucking lock her away again!" Negan is angry now. Really pissed off. And I made him feel that way with a simple hand gesture.

Dad debates, silently cursing under his breath. He sends me a glare. "Don't do anything stupid." He whispers harshly, turning back to Negan. We walk over. I stop, arms crossed.

"This is Emilia." He says shortly and Negan raises his eyebrows, running his eyes down and back up my figure.

"Emilia the not so well behaved niece, Emilia the weird student crush that turned into more, Emilia the stripper who-"

"-my daughter! She is my daughter, my oldest." He admits and I see his eyes dropping to the ground after that.

"My, my, and what a daughter." His sick eyes roam my body again, this time I snap my fingers. His eyes meet mine.

"Done?" I ask, not able to admit that he actually made me quiet uncomfortable. My shoulders feel heavy and I dart my eyes to his boots instead. He chuckles, stepping forward. He walks around my dad who stands right next to me. He leans towards his shoulder.

"You mind if I borrow her for a few days? Teach her some manners?" My dad shakes visibly, controlling his outbursts much better than I can. I turn around swiftly. My glare finding his smiling eyes.

He laughs, making me feel around for that emergency knife. I glance at dad as he vividly shakes his head at me. He knows what I want to do. He would do it himself. But what holds him back?

"Why did you come back Negan?" Dad asks instead, trying very obviously to switch Negan's attention. But he keeps his eyes on me.

"Originally I wanted to fucking pick up more guns, but I saw we were out of some other stuff. But now I have something else that I really need to fucking bring home!" Dad stands frozen, my own mouth agape as I try to fully understand what he talked about.

"I would never step inside that truck. The slap was the closest you will ever get to me." I say and take a step back to prove my point more.

"Really?" His voice dripping with sarcasm and joy. He is truly convinced.

His eyes flicker to something behind my back for a split second. I glance over, a tall man gripping my arm, then my other.

"Stop, let go!" I pull, struggle but his grip only tightens. Now he holds me around my stomach, picking me up. I kick my feet, looking at dad.

I see the inner conflict he has as Negan keeps talking to him calmly with that big smirk. Too silent for me to hear. I look around more, others gathered here, some telling Negan to stop. But not dad. His mouth stands slightly open, heavy breaths coming out. Then he snaps at something Negan says.

"You asshole! Let her go, take all you want! Let her go!" He tries to get at Negan but another of his puppies holds him back. Negan whistles and I get thrown into the backseats, a man on each side of me. Holding me in place. Negan skips into his seat, the passanger seat. A woman drives. How can she not say anything?

I feel tears in my eyes but blink them away. One escapes though, making me turn my head to the side. "Hey, no need to cry, princess. I'll let daddy visit you once in a while. If you're acting good." He winks at me and I feel the urge to throw up. I bite my lip, holding back. The car moves up and down a lot as we drive over rocks and branches. That goes on for what feels like half an hour.

"I feel sick." I get out, my face turning oddly cold against the wind rushing by the fast vehicle.

"Hey, don't be rude-" I gag, keeping my mouth shut, then Negan tells them to stop the car. The man both rush away from me, leaving me on the backseat.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He yells at his men and pulls me out himself. He carries me over to a tree and my legs give out so I end up kneeling on the ground. He holds my hair as I let it out. Not really any food coming out. I barely had any the past few days.

My throat burns as more liquid leaves my body. I spit remains out of my mouth. Closing my eyes I try to calm my breathing. I haven't thrown up since I was a baby. Literally never. I can't even remember it. Sure as hell not a nice feeling.

"Shit, Em. What got your tummy all twisted like that?" He chuckled and I start shivering, not really in the mood for a joke. I keep my eyes closed and my stomach stings so much, I can't stand up. I squeeze my eyes, grinding my teeth together. My hands hold my stomach.

"Hey, hey what's fucking happening?" He kneels down next to me, taking my chin in his hand, forcing me to look up at him. I try to blink my eyes open. A deep crease between his furrowed eyebrows appears. Concern? For the enemy? I would smile if I could.

"I have those cramps sometimes. I just never had to throw up." My voice unsteady and thin. I look down, feeling tired.

"That time of the month?" He smirks and I pull my face from his touch, done with his attitude. I pull myself up by the tree.

"Not really." I hold back the comments that run through my head. Forcing my steps back towards the car. He falls into pace next to me. But I can't keep it up, I collapse, right before the car. Negan tries to hold me up and eventually picks me up, holding me under my back and the back of my knees. He lays me down on the backseat, I take up all three seats.

"You both walk, No complains." Negan walks around the car and the woman start driving. I glance outside, the two men walking slowly, looking quite mad. I suppress a smile and start rubbing my stomach. That sometimes helps ease the pain.

I close my eyes and focus on my fingers, the skin on my stomach and the bumpy ride. That alone makes me drift off.

#negan imagine #negan x reader #negan #imagine #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #fanfiction #rick grimes

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womanlalaboy · 5 years

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Panhik #4: Batulao Revenge Hike

My first official climb happened during a typhoon at Mt. Batulao in Nasugbu Batangas. The 2-4 hour climb became an excruciating hike of 9-long hours. Can you imagine the struggle? I can still feel the leg cramps whenever I think about it. Wanting to quit at first peak would sound unrealistic, but believe me when I say that for a beginner like me (a heavy one), the conditions that time were just too much. Nevertheless, we made it and we vowed to avenge that painful trek by doing another hike. We wanted to see the Batangas landscape on a sunny day so we plotted to do it on a February- thinking that it would be a cold, comfortable and a pleasant hike. It was a sunny hike, but never a cold nor a comfortable one.

There were many things we failed to take into consideration:

What's up on that very day? We failed to consider the actual day of our hike. I didn't realize that it fell on a long weekend- a Sunday followed by the People Power Anniversary the next day. Over a thousand people of all ages and sizes swarmed the place to do a hike. Some of those have been there since Saturday. Some were planning to camp and stay til Monday.

Since our day of hike fell on a very busy weekend, we also failed to anticipate the availability of public transportation. We had to ride a jeep to Silang and wait for a bus bound for Nasugbu. We found one that is full and settled to stand all the way to our destination. From Imus, Cavite to Batangas, including the waiting time, I spent a total of 5 hours just to get to the jump off.

I failed to consider my health. I’m lactose intolerant, but mindlessly sampled the mais con yelo in one of the stops at Mt. Batulao, and bought an ice cream at the summit. On top of that, I didn’t get to bring my medicine.

The climb nonetheless was still fun. We got a cool guide, Kuya Paeng who wore a pair of running shoes and a camouflage coat. He looked more like a politician than a guide, to be completely honest. He said that they have over 200 official guides, but at that time, they ran out of people so he volunteered. He used to guide people up there, so he knows the way around Batulao. Since there were so many people, we decided to team up with another group. We got to meet a couple originally from Palawan. They’re a bit quiet, but we got the feeling that they’re also fun to be with. It just took us a few peaks to get a glimpse of their fun side.

Both of them are fair-skinned so when they told us they came from Palawan and moved up here to work, we didn’t believe them at first. Then they started talking about their travels, and how they find the time to go out despite having busy schedules as teachers. We also initially thought that they’re not used to climbing as they only brought a few stuff and those string bags triggered me a lot. We’ve realized that they’re actually just more prepared and practical than we are. They brought lightweight clothes, jackets to cover them up, enough trail food and liquid. They really didn’t need much.

We’re lucky to have met such nice people. Kuya Paeng and the couple we hiked with laughed with us and listened to when we tell stories of our first hike at Batulao. We really got along. We became their third wheel and Kuya Paeng became our father, especially when my stomach started to ache and needed to release so badly. I felt it at first after I took my share of that mais con yelo we got from one of the stops. There’s actually a group who camped and were cooking sopas when we got there. They even insisted that we wait for the sopas to be ready so we can all share a breakfast together. Instead, we got ourselves some mais con yelo and an egg. We told them we’ll get our share once we get back from the summit. We weren’t able to catch them, but it was alright. That sopas would’ve made my stomach ache worse.

The struggle started when we were approaching the look-out tower. We‘re seeing more people and felt that the path we’re taking was crumbling faster and easily more than expected. We actually took the old trail, then the new one towards the look-out tower and then the old trail again. But regardless of the trail we decide to take, we always see a line of people. They are most visible whenever we trek through the ridges. There were several points where we had to stop as well and let those from the top pass through. This usually happen at steeper paths like the photo below:

From higher points, people lined up looked like ants trying to find their way to get food. We stayed the longest at the summit along with many other climbers. It looked like a feast of the Nazarene. I even joked about it and told my friend, “nasa’n ang poon, teh? Ready na ‘yung bimpo ko.” (where’s the patron saint? My face towel’s ready). We just laughed things off then bought ourselves an ice cream which was a very bad decision on my end. I felt a sudden adrenaline. At the time, I was really considering releasing my shit in the bushes, but the summit is an open area and regardless of grass length, people will still be able to see me. I asked Kuya Paeng to help us get down the fastest. He went down to help guide the others descend so they could lessen the people up in the summit. It took him quite a while so we just distracted ourselves with jokes. “Akala ko teh Feb. pa lang? Bakit parang napaaga yata ang bisita Iglesia ngayon?” (I thought we’re still in Feb. Why do I feel like Visita Iglesia came a little bit early this time?) I jokingly said.

Kuya Paeng came back and told us we could go down the slopes where those tall and sharp grass are rooted from. He made us a new path so we could go down fast. However, we were only able to do that from the summit down to the first hill. We lined up along with the others ready to descend. It wasn’t nice to wait there under the scorching heat of the noon sun and my will to hold my literal shit together. There was a guy that was really scared of going down saying in his breath he’s only good at going up, but never down. I told him, “at least, hindi ka natatae.” (at least, you don’t feel like taking a dump), and we laughed at our worries.

I was pretty good at convincing my body that I don’t need to take a shit yet. I’ve successfully distracted myself. Then a guide shouted from down below, “oh, tiis tiis muna sa mga natate d’yan, papaakyatin lang muna natin ‘tong isang batch.” (Let's try to be patient with this for now, especially to those who would need to take a shit. We’ll guide this next batch up first.” to which I shouted, “Kuya, ‘wag mo nang ipaalala, nakalimutan ko na nga, e!” (you don’t need to remind us. I’ve almost forgotten about it!).

Even with what happened, I’m glad that we’ve seen the summit and the range clearly. Actually, over a thousand hikers did that day. It was a rare event, said the locals. They get a lot of visitors during weekends, but this only happens during long weekends and long holidays. Though Batulao is a favorite among beginners and experienced hikers alike, this massive visit would be detrimental to the protection and conservation of the mountain. 200 of them guides weren’t even enough to accommodate the number of hikers. We descended by afternoon and there were still more coming.

The path for sure doesn’t look healthy anymore. There were more loose rocks than usual which can be dangerous if you’re not too careful. The boulders are really what bothered me. They were shaking. Imagine a thousand people going back and forth using the boulders to help them climb up and down. There are also more stops compared to when we hiked in 2017. This means more commercial goods being brought up in the mountains which will result in trail trash if there’s no proper waste management. And yes, I believe there is none as we’ve seen a lot of trash along the way.

Pico De Loro, another favored mountain in Batangas had to be closed several times to allow it to recuperate. This is a possible sight that can happen to Batulao if we continue to mindlessly do what we’re doing that contributes to its likely destruction. Here are a few insights from a traveler’s point of view that are worth considering.

Mindful consuming isn’t only healthy for our bodies, but also for our environment. If you’re reading this because you fancy mountain climbing, then for sure you enjoy what mountain climbing can offer- great scenery, memorable adventure, stillness, simplicity, a moment to contemplate and breathe. There are other activities that make you feel alive, but there’s nothing else like mountain climbing. If we enjoy doing things like this, we should at least pay attention to how we affect our mountains. Taking care of the very thing that gives us pleasure wouldn’t hurt. It’s as simple as taking the protection and conservation of the mountain in mind whenever you have to visit one. When you are mindful of what you consume, you are also mindful of what waste you produce. Do you really need to buy that bottled water? Did you really have to get a bag tag from every mountain you climb or pick up that interesting flower along the way? If we continue to mindlessly consume things we don’t ultimately need, then we are just demanding their production which would have to involve non-renewable energy in manufacturing and probably non-biodegradable materials that aren’t really designed to be up or downcycled. Also, let’s bring our own trash back home and make something out of those than just leaving them in the mountains. Let’s have a little decency. It’s free.

Conscious traveling should be a traveler’s mindset. We get more than what we give when we travel and it’s only as important to be conscious with what, when and how we are visiting a place as to being conscious if we would need to bring an extra pair of underwear. Always think about the date of our travel and how it will affect everything. I failed to take that into consideration and I’ve learned my lesson the hard way. It’s best to visit a place off-peak than swarm the place along with the thousands of people trying to maximize their holidays.

Consider the locals and how they actually live their lives there. Water in Batulao is scarce, and the locals would have to share theirs with the visitors. Even with fees, a thousand visitor is still too much to accommodate. Batangueños are just naturally hospitable and friendly to allow people like me to use their toilets or bedrooms when the souvenir shops and eateries are just filled with people. My friends and I settled with damped towels instead of taking a bath. We also maximized the water we brought with us instead of buying bottled water in the area.

Help the locals to capitalize on goods that would speak their identity. I always find it nice to try things that are specific to what a place can offer. Batangas Lomi sounds about right.

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Also see: Batulao photo sets Also read: Panhik #1: Mother Mountain Also read: Panhik #2: Braving Batulao Also read: TUCLAS Climbs Gulugod Baboy Also read: Womanlalaboy's Travel Guide to Gulugod Baboy Also read: Womanlalaboy's Travel Guide to Batulao

#womanlalaboy #travelogues #batulao #mountain climbing #batulao revenge hike #hiking #hike #trek #trekking #mountain #mountains of the philippines #batangas #philippines #pilipinas #pilipino #filipino #pinas #pinoy

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