#and knowing us we would fucking do it to escape capitalism from all the other social media

[malecftw]

Dirt - Tom Blyth

A/N: Duuuuuuuude, I feel like I'm in an alternate universe. Never would I have thought I'd ever be writing again, years later! Please please please let me know what you guys think since this is my first story back. It'll probably play a part in wether or not I'll write more since I obvs love writing, but a writer isn't a writer without readers.

Enjoy xx

Warnings: fluff.

(Not my gif obvs)

The cool breeze of the opening car door makes you smile. The vehicle moves slightly as someone sits in the driver's seat. After some rustling you hear: "Open up." You do as you're told and open your lips slightly, only to feel the cool metal of a reusable straw. A groan escapes your lips as you taste your favorite cooled beverage. By now, he knew all your favorites by heart, just like he knew your dislike for the standard paper straws they've started using everywhere. You're all for saving the planet, but paper should never be sucked on. You lean your head against the headrest as you turn your head towards the driver's seat, even though your eyes could only see black.

"Does this mean you're gonna be my servant all day?" You hear a chuckle. "Don't get used to it hot stuff. You're only blindfolded until we get there." You puckered your lips, "and where is there exactly?" you try again. For months, he's been keeping you in the dark about what he had planned for your birthday. He hyped it up quite a bit so your curiosity only grew as it led you to this moment, literally in the dark about the whole thing. He just kissed your lips and you knew that was the only answer you were gonna get.

The drive was filled with your favorite music, the occasional chatter and regular hand kisses as he held yours in your lap. Although you couldn't see anything, you weren't bored. It was rare that you got to spend much time together, so even this was a treat. You still found it crazy how he had been able to persuade the producers and director to film around your birthday. Well, persuading isn't exactly the right word. He had a few different gigs lined up, so he could basically tell them: "Give me these days off, or I'm going for the other job."

He was always the assertive one in the relationship. Especially when it came to you. Any free moment he could get, he would make sure to capitalize on it just so he could spend it with you. Ever since you guys met at Julliard, you'd been absolutely smitten with eachother.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the car came to a halt. "Slow down tiger." He said, quickly grabbing your hand moving towards the blindfold. "Tooooooom, please..." you whined, squeezing his hand. "You'll find out soon enough, trust me. Now I'm going to come over to your side to help you get out okay. No peeking."

The dramatic sigh that left your lips made him laugh, loving the advantage he had over you. As you play with a loose thread on your jean overall he opens the door. Grabbing your waist, he lifts you out of the Jeep, squeezing your sides in the process.

"Okay, take off your blindfold on my mark." He exclaims, followed by alot of shuffling, making you aware of multiple people present. "Go for it babe." He says loudly, and you do as he says.

The sight infront of you startles you, not at all what you expected. It feels like you're in some kind of national park. Only stones, sand and dirt in sight. If you exclude the group of people infront of you that is.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Everyone shouts at the same time and you jump back a little in surprise. In front of you are you closest friends, as well as some of Tom's coworkers you'd been lucky enough to get close to. A few Billy The Kid costars were also there, you assumed the others had to keep filming while he had a couple days off.

As you take in the sight, hand over your mouth, still in shock, you notice everyone has a bucket hanging from their wrist. "What the fuck!?!" you shout, happy but confused. Tom walks up to you, takes your hand and walks you closer to the group. He hands you a similar looking bucket, a chisel and a hammer.

"We're going crystal digging." Tom smiles, stretching out his arms proudly as he looks at the scenery. Your heart nearly bursts at the seams as you throw your new equipment to the ground and jump in his arms, clinging onto him like a Koala.

"Tom Blyth, you are the most unrealistically perfect boyfriend ever and I do wonder how I ended up with you." You whisper, looking into his eyes, trying to make him realise how much this means to you.

It's not like you were crystal-obsessed. It's just something you'd been drawn to your entire life. A little quirk one might say. It was a subtle part of your life. One that you had often gotten judged for by previous boyfriends. Tom never spoke negatively about it, it was just a part of who you are and if it made you happy, why would he try to manipulate it out of you like the ones before him. It's not because he himself wasn't that interested in it, that you weren't allowed to be.

"Babe, all I do is listen. It's not rocket science." He smiles as he gives you a little Eskimo kiss. "So humble," you mock swoon as het puts you down. "Oi, don't be jealous if I find the biggest rock okay." He grins while nudging your side. "Not gonna happen. I'm a crystal magnet." You say cockily as you join the group.

After a couple hours, everyone was covered in dust and dirt. Happily you look at your bucket, having found a couple huge, beautiful crystals and a lot of smaller ones. Next to you Tom was also holding his bucket closer to his face to inspect what he found. Your shoulder touches his elbow as you say: "You know what, I might have a couple of them made into some lovely jewelry pieces."

Tom looks at you bewildered. "Like what?" You don't think much of it as you answer. "I don't know. There's some beautiful stones in here for some earrings, necklaces, bracelets... Or maybe I can make some stuff myself you know. Get my creative juices flowing." He sighs softly at your answer. "I love you." At that you raise your eyebrow. Neither you or Tom were shy of expressing your love for eachother, but this was a bit random. "I love you too. I honestly don't think you realise how much this means to me. I never would have guessed this to be the surprise. It's so thoughtful. It truly shows how much you know me through and through." "I'm glad you like it. You're always down to try anything, even if you're not sure about it in the beginning. That's why I feel comfortable trying something new. I'm aware it hasn't been easy now that work's been steady and I've been away from home a lot. And you have no idea how much I appreciate you giving me the freedom to follow my dreams."

He leans down and kisses you passionately. Melting into his touch you stand there for a while looking at the scenery, taking everything in.

*That evening*

"You clean up nicely mr. Blyth." You comment on his attire. He does a little twirl, smirking as he checks you out. "You're not so bad for a little scavenger." You poke his side and sit down in one of the chairs. After you'd said your goodbyes to the rest of the group, Tom had driven you about an hour away from the crystal mine. You knew that wasn't the end of your birthday surprise since he'd told you to also pack some nice evening attire.

Tom had booked an amazing restaurant. The owners went above and beyone to blow your mind, preparing an outdoor table with the best view. After dessert, you both were enjoying some lovely wine and eachother. Catching up after not having seen eachother for a while since you'd only flow in yesterday so you could spend your birthday together.

He absentmindedly played with your fingers as a comfortable silence settled between you two. You felt him rubbing your ring finger and noticed him looking at it. "Looks quite empty doesn't it." He says quite casually. You roll your eyes and jokingly hit his chest. "Don't play that game." You say, smiling widely. You'd talked about marriage before, you both knew you wanted it at some point in your life. Sure some people say it's just a piece of paper, and you couldn't fully disagree, but it also had a deeper meaning to the both of you. The promise of choosing eachother, every day, forever.

He looked into your eyes and shook his head.

"I'm not playing games anymore love."

The way he said it made you shiver. He'd made that joke before, but never with an answer so serious. He leaned back in his chair. "Do you remember, early on in our relationship, that time I forgot my tie for one of the first plays I did at Julliard?" You smile as you think back to that memory. "How could I forget. You were basically a living zombie for 3 weeks leading up to that play."

Tom nodded, back to playing with your fingers.

"I remember I had been so stressed. The character I played was so dull. I struggled so much finding ways to make him more interesting to the audience. And that damn tie. It was so important to me. Silly how something so small could mean so much at the time." "So much that you forgot it at home 3 hours before the play." You humored.

Looking enamoured, he continued.

"And I remember you. You with your make up half done, running towards me in a fucking thunderstorm. And when we met in the middle, you just casually opened your vest, handing over that damn tie."

Laughter exploded from your chest. You were in the middle of getting ready to attend the play when you got the frantic call from Tom. You didn't think twice and started running towards the school, and didn't even realise it was raining until you were running through the streets of New York City, by then it was too late to turn back to dress appropriately for the weather.

The man infront of you smiling, as he relived the same memory.

"That's when I knew."

A questioning look painted your face.

"I knew. Right then and there, that I'd always look for you in the crowd."

Speechless, you squeezed his hand.

He sat up straight in his chair. Taking both of your hands in his.

"I love you. I love the way you still can't use our airfryer, 2 years after we got it. I love your random obsession with knitting and making me wear your handmade sweaters to work. I love home, but only when you're there. I love that you let me be who I truly am and I love that you are fearlessly yourself."

He stood up and kneeled down infront of you, taking out a red, velvet box.

"Please allow me, to fulfill one more dream of mine."

As he opens the box he speaks with shaking voice and tears in his eyes.

"Will you marry me?"

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d.| 14

Don Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Canon violence. Fucking FLUFF

Author’s Note: Thanks for all the love. This is it! This isnt the end I lied Jk. Listen to Getaway Car if you’re inclined <3333

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Way

There was no time to treat her wound, leaving it exposed to the elements as they tore through the capital city of Senex. The speeder bike was easily commandeered from someone at the party, allowing Din and his princess to escape as Han and Leia distracted Calisto and Gideon. Several party goers joined the fight as well, supporting their princess and her attempts to escape. But many evacuated, allowing for the two to sneak out with the crowd.

The Crest was not far off, allowing for them to get a headstart on their getaway. But Din knew better than to assume they were safe; they were far from it. Storm troopers were hot on their trail, though he had the advantage of the Crest being hidden away. They were together, however, and that’s all Din cared about as they skid to a stop outside the Crest. With the ship’s hatch opened and ready for them, he hopped off the bike and took her good hand, leading her into the ship. 

“We need to get off this planet,” Din announced, flipping switches in the cockpit of the ship.

“Really? I thought we’d get married in the fields,” she retorted, sliding into her own seat. 

He rolled his eyes under the helmet, handing Grogu to her once she was strapped into the seat. “We can’t go back to Sorgan; it’ll be the first place they look.”

“Or Nevarro –I’m certain your bounty hunter friend wouldn’t be thrilled with us.”

“We need to find the other Mandalorians,” he settled, starting the engines of the ship. 

Blaster fire suddenly rained down on the ship, and she ducked down over Grogu to protect him. Din looked over at her, frowning deeply as he pushed the ship to take off, but the damn thing was too old for it’s own good sometimes. The engines were too cool, and with Calisto and Gideon’s men trying to keep them down –Din had to take the offensive.

“You know how to fly?” He asked, standing from his seat.

She gave a half-hearted shrug. “Kind of. My father tried teaching me, but our ships were newer –,”

“Doesn’t matter,” he pointed out, motioning at each control and explaining the purpose of each one. She watched closely, moving out of her seat and into his. If their lives weren’t in danger, it would have been a hell of a sight. “When I say, you need to get us into the air.”

“What are you doing?” She demanded as he started climbing down the ladder. “Din, you cannot take on a squad by yourself.”

“Didn’t you tell Calisto I’d like my odds?”

“I was trying to scare her. Not encourage you.”

He waved her off, climbing down into the hull. Opening the armory, Din pulled out several grenades and attached them to his belt then took out his pulse rifle, looking it over for a moment. Then, he opened the hatch on the roof of the Crest, climbing up and keeping his feet hooked into the ladder. 

“Can you hear me?” He asked through the comms, into the cockpit.

“Uh, I can, yes,” she responded, though her voice sounded muffled through the speakers. “The engine is still heating up. Please be careful, Din.”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to lower himself against the metal of his ship and take aim. As the chaos of the troopers shooting raged around him, he tried to remain calm and focused. Din knew that his skills were the only thing standing between them getting out of Senex alive. As he fired shot after shot, he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. This was what he was born to do - to fight, to protect, to survive. And he would not stop until everyone trying to hurt his clan was taken down.

“How’s that engine looking?” He asked as a trooper dropped onto the roof of the ship and swung a boot into Din’s face. He grabbed their ankle and dropped them though, shoving a knife into their leg and shoving them off the roof.

“Almost there,” she promised as the ship began to shake with preparation. “I’d hold onto something if I were you.”

Din couldn’t, given the situation at hand, but he appreciated the concern as he aimed at the speeder bike that was barreling towards him. One calculated shot later and the bike –and two others –were blown up and the Crest was taking off into the air. He thanked the Maker as he dropped back into the ship, shutting the hatch, and rushed back into the cockpit.

Grogu was sitting in her seat, hands in the air as she pushed the throttle forward and the ship took off over the capital city. Din hovered behind her, hand gripping the back of the seat as he pushed various buttons and prepared to exit the atmosphere. But other new ships were appearing around them; Imperial ships that he was certain belonged to Gideon. 

Din's heart sank as he realized how outnumbered they really were. While he knew a clean getaway was a long shot, he should have known better than to assume Gideon wouldn’t have brought an army of his own. He quickly assessed their situation, trying to come up with a plan of action.

"We’ve got company,” he said, his voice low and urgent in her ear. 

"I see them," she replied, her hands moving deftly over the controls as she tried to evade the incoming ships. 

Din activated the ship's weapons systems, ready to defend themselves if necessary. He knew that they were outnumbered, but he wasn't going down without a fight. As they flew through the sky, lasers from the Imperial ships streaked past them, narrowly missing their ship.

"We can’t fight them, Din,” she pointed out as he took control of the ship’s blasters. 

“We don’t need to fight them if we can distract them,” he offered as reassurance, turning the ships guns on the Imperial fleet that was catching up to them.

But the ship needed to gain more speed if they were going to jump into hyperspace, and he needed it to last long enough against Gideon and Calisto’s forces to do that. Din gritted his teeth as he fired the ship's weapons at the incoming Imperial fleet. He knew that their best chance of survival was to distract them long enough to make the jump to hyperspace. But he also knew that their weapons weren't strong enough to hold off the Imperial forces forever.

"We need to go faster," he said, his eyes scanning the control panel for any way to increase their speed. "Can you give me more power to the engines?"

“I don’t think so,” she admitted, looking over the panel herself with a deep frown. “Din, I-I don’t know if we’ll get out of here alive.”

“We will,” he promised, returning his attention to the fleet that was on top of them.

“Din, tell me the vows,” she insisted, her hand reaching out to grab his arm.

“No,” he snapped, looking down at her for a moment. “No, not like this.”

Din felt a surge of energy as the ship's engines roared to life, propelling them forward at an incredible speed –the engines were finally catching up to the urgency that engulfed the cockpit. While the Imperial ships were caught off guard by their sudden burst of speed, Din took the chance to pick off a few more of the fleet.

But the Imperial fleet was relentless, and their ships were quickly closing in on them. Din knew that they had to make the jump to hyperspace soon, or it would be too late.

“Tell me the vows,” she demanded again as a blast hit the side of the ship, too close to the engines for comfort. She yanked on the exposed part of his arm, drawing his attention to her. Her eyes were watery with unshed tears. “Marry me, Din Djarin.”

The dawning realization that they might actually not make it hit him hard, and he couldn’t argue. “Repeat after me, okay?” Din remained focused on firing the weapons as he spoke. “Mhi solus tome, we are one when together”

“Mhi solus tome,” she repeated, eyes locked on the ships that she was maneuvering around. “We are one when together.”

“Mhi solus dar'tome,” he continued, bracing against the controls as another round of shots hit the ship. “We are one when parted.”

“Mhi solus dar'tome,” she closed her eyes for a moment as Grogu cried out, as if he knew something was going wrong; that they were on more danger than ever before. “We are one when parted.”

“Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” Din concluded, looking down at her finally as one of the engines stuttered. “We will share all, we will raise warriors."

“Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” she finished, looking up at him now as well. “We will share all, we will raise warriors.”

Din couldn’t pinpoint why it felt right to marry her right there, in the middle of battle, but it did. Perhaps it was the adrenaline pumping through his veins, or the realization that life was precious and fleeting. Maybe it was the way she stood by his side, fearless and determined. Whatever the reason, Din knew he couldn't let her go.

“Kiss me, Din.”

His heart almost broke, realizing now that they were married –and very well could be dying at any second. But he nodded, finally abandoning his post at the weapons control. His hands here on his helmet, hesitant for just a moment, before he lifted it and set it down. Decades of wearing the helmet, not showing a single living thing what he looked like –all abandoned now as he faced his wife for the first time. 

She stared up at him with wide eyes, the tears finally falling as she reached up to touch his cheek. Her touch was warm against his face, where her fingers stroked the scars that had settled there. Blood still caked her nails, but her wound was wrapped and he had to look away. He could see the worry in her eyes, but he also saw the trust and love that she held for him. He leaned in slowly, savoring the moment, before finally pressing his lips against hers. It was a gentle kiss, but it held a depth of emotion that words could not express. For a moment, the fight around them faded away, and all that existed was the two of them, locked in a tender embrace.

But the ship still rocked from gunfire, reminding them that the end felt too close. They pulled away from one another just barely, foreheads resting against one another. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as her eyes traced over his face, taking in everything she could. He had never felt so exposed, yet so liberated. It was as if he had shed a heavy burden that he had been carrying for so long. He reached up and cupped her cheek, staring deeply into her eyes. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to express, but the words eluded him. Instead, he simply leaned in and kissed her again, pouring all of his emotions into the tender touch of his lips.

“Falcon to Crest, do you copy?”

Both of them looked to the comms, then at each other before finally pulling away. His helmet slipped back on, ensuring it was only her who would ever see him.

“This is Crest,” Din announced, leaning against the control panel.

“It’s Han,” the pilot explained, and gunfire could be heard in the background. “Leia and I are holding them off –got a handful of Senex fighters on your side out here.”

He looked to her, then back out the window of the Razor Crest. “You hold them off and we can get out of here.”

“That hunk of junk can hit hyperspace?” Han ribbed, and Din knew the man was smirking. “Gotta love classics.”

“Gideon got away,” Leia pointed out, voice gravelly through the comms. “So did Calisto. But if you get to the Outer Rim again, you should be safe for a while.”

“If you’re gonna jump, now is the time,” Han warned as Din moved her from the pilot’s seat and took over again. “Good luck with whatever the hell it is you two are up to.”

She laughed and Din glanced at her, smiling beneath his helmet. With his hands on the controls, Din hit the switch and pushed the throttle forward –the jump to hyperspace knocking them both back into their seats. As the stars streaked by in their blur, Din felt a sense of relief wash over him. The battle was over, at least for now. They had emerged victorious, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he allowed himself to relax.

Beside him, his wife let out a contented sigh, her hand reaching out to take his. He laced his fingers through hers, relishing the warmth and comfort of her touch.

“I can’t believe we did it,” she whispered, taking a deep breath as she looked up at him.

Din turned to her, his heart full. “It’s not over yet,” he reminded her gently, taking his hand back for just a moment. She watched in curiosity as he lifted his helmet, revealing himself once more to her. “But whatever is out there –we’ll handle it.”

She stared at him again, slowly standing from her seat. Her hands –covered in dried blood and streaks of sweat –reached for his face. For a long time, she simply stood above him, eyes and fingers tracing over his features. One hand held his jaw as the other ran over the bridge of his nose, up to his brow and over his eyes. Her thumb skated over his cheek, against the stubble that had grown over the last several weeks.

“You have brown eyes,” she whispered, both hands now resting on his jaw to hold his gaze. “You have brown eyes and you are so beautiful.”

He’d never been called beautiful before, and the compliment made his heart ache as he reached up to hold onto her wrists. Her touch was warm and gentle, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, lost in the intensity of their emotions. It was as if they were the only two people in the galaxy and nothing else mattered except the connection they shared.

Finally, Din broke the silence. "I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled at him, a soft and genuine expression. "I love you too," she promised, her voice barely more than a breath. “I get to look at you for the rest of my life.”

Din felt his heart swell with love for her. He knew that he had found something special, something worth fighting for. And no matter what the future held, he was determined to keep her by his side. As they soared through the galaxy, her touch on his skin, Din felt a sense of hope for the first time in a long time.

Grogu cooed suddenly, drawing their attention to him. He held his arms up and she laughed again, lifting him into her arms. Din took off his gloves, tossing them to the side, so he could run his thumb over their child’s face.

The future was uncertain; there were still threats out there. People hunting them down. But with his princess and their child with him —he knew this would be The Way.

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @lovelessprick @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dilf-din @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

[olderthannetfic]

Now I'm at the point where I think if someone in the queer community is trying to tell women, femmes, afab people/whoever to stop enjoying BL, they also need to be consistent and tell all queer men to stop doing drag because they both engage with gender in the same way.

Everything those folks tell afab people [they're 1) capitalizing on male queerness without any of the struggles that come along with it or 2) depicting x identity without authenticity or 3) it's not #ownvoices/representation or 4) it's using stereotypes of x group that have historically harmed them] also apply to queer men who do drag in terms of them exploiting women for entertainment. Women are a marginalized group in society; that's a fact. A cis queer man will never truly understand what it's like to be a woman. A cis drag queen will likely never have to know what it's like to be constantly told from infancy your body and sexuality just exist for men. Your interests in fashion or makeup or academics are just for men. [By this logic, a cis woman could reasonably find an issue with a cis man then taking this aspect of personal and societal struggle and bastardizing it for entertainment/humor when women every day are killed, harassed, and attacked for not performing femininity for men.] Cis drag queens also use stereotypes of femininity as punchlines or jokes in this escapism when the ones who have to deal with the fallout in society are women. Drag queens are no more "representation" for women than BL characters are for queer men. No one goes to a drag show if that's what they want, and drag queens shouldn't be expected to do that, just like afab BL creators shouldn't be forced to conform to what anyone thinks is "good representation" for queer men. No queer man has been hurt by BL, just like no cis woman has been hurt by drag. Let's be consistent.

Now, is it also true that there are a lot of nonbinary and trans women who do drag as a way to express their gender? Yes. Are they likely the majority of drag queens? No. So, how would we decide who can appropriate aspects of the female experience? We can't. The same goes for afab BL fans and creators. Yeah, lots are trans or nonbinary, but it's ridiculous to expect everyone to out themselves or write a biographical manifesto to justify their tastes in entertainment. Are there drag queens who are misogynistic? Yes, the most famous example is RuPaul. Does this apply to all? No. Just like BL fans and homophobia.

However, everyone knows that talk of getting rid of drag queens is a common talking point of conservatives. This talk around afab BL fans should be considered in the same way.

--

Huzzah!

I've pointed this out many times. Hell, I've seen a blog post from a BL type author who is leery of women writing BL that pointed out the same thing and came to a similar conclusion.

One of the more interesting commentaries on the cis gay male culture aspects of all this was in David Halperin's How to be Gay. Either I'm misremembering, or the kindle price has dropped from academic book horror levels to something more acceptable, at least to my US eye. ($14.16 currently) I highly recommend it.

He uses the word 'appropriation' to talk about what drag queens do, though he doesn't mean it in a "and that is obviously universally bad" way. He explicitly addresses the fact that some women will find drag misogynist, and that's okay. It's okay that they feel this way. It's okay that a subculture makes art for a particular audience that may be offputting or disturbing to other audiences.

The book is about a lot more than just drag. It goes into all of that cis gay male culture like loving The Golden Girls and venerating tragic women of classic Hollywood. I have sometimes, as a woman, felt almost like I was tresspassing on gay men's territory to love Joan Crawford and her ilk. Which, if you think about it, is fucking nuts.

Halperin doesn't talk about BL at all, at least not in that book, but his observations are like a mirror of fandom and inform a lot of how I look at #ownvoices.

The book is based on a class he taught with that same joke title. The point was that he did not find the performance of normative US cis gay male culture ("What a dump!", Golden Girls love, etc.) to be at all natural. He had to learn it. All his friends laughed about how he was the last guy to teach anyone "how to be gay".

Anyway, as he taught the class, he noticed something that shocked him: students were connecting with The Golden Girls and campy, queer-coded old Broadway plays much more than with the direct, literal representation, even when that representation was on Broadway in a similar tone and type of media.

The book is his exploration of why. To boil it down: gay men were seeking things that felt true internally, not externally. They were often identifying with situations and dynamics or with all of the characters. They didn't necessarily want to be told "Here's your self insert! Now relate!" It's full of the same kind of talk of critical distance that oldschool slash meta engages in.

I actually have a whole long meta piece about this: What I Want is To(o) Direct.

I got the idea after reading Halperin and bounced up to Francesca Coppa at a con to blather about it. She was like "Oh, I just wrote a book chapter on that." That chapter is: Slash/Drag: Appropriation and Visibility in the Age of Hamilton. You can find it in A Companion to Media Fandom and Fan Studies.

Drag is great, but I hate the misogynist attitude that men can borrow from women to express their oppression or their interior worlds metaphorically, but women cannot borrow from men for the same purpose.

The inevitable transphobia that comes with strict policing of either is just the cherry on an already towering shit sundae.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @phoenixradiant!

OC Interview

I've been seeing people do two characters at once, so I'll do Sepo and Izjik as a pair :)

.

Are you named after anyone?

Izjik: "My name is a common one where I'm from, but I don't think I was named after anyone specific, no."

Sepo: "If I was, my mother croaked before she could tell me."

When was the last time you cried?

Izjik: "I dropped a bag of hammers on my foot at work the other day and spirits, they probably heard be about ten miles over!"

Sepo: "I don't cry."

Izjik: "Yes the fuck you do? Broody bastard. I saw you tearing up when we went and saw that new band. You cried last time you had to deal with the bounty guild because the guild leader makes you so damn angry. I know for a fact you get weepy every time you get so much as three drinks in you."

Sepo: "...no comment. Bitch."

Do you have kids?

Sepo: "You'd fucking think we do looking after Twenari. And she's not even half the trouble Djek is - and he's a grown-ass man."

Izjik: "Cut him some slack, he's like nineteen. But yeah, two kids pretty much. I've even been to a PTA meeting! That makes me certified parental material!"

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Sepo: "Nooo, never..."

Izjik: "Low hanging fruit, my guy. I'm usually not sarcastic, though - it's not my style."

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Izjik: "If they're going to try to kill and eat me."

Sepo: "Ditto. Then I move on to what makes them annoying."

Izjik: "You're so negative, you know that? My second impression is their hands. You can tell a lot about a person based on their hands."

What is your eye color?

Izjik: "Kind of a blue gray? Slate, Twenari calls it."

Sepo: "Sirens all have eyes of black."

Izjik: "And a good thing to, given how stupid big your pupils are."

Sepo: "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Izjik: "If you had blue eyes, you'd look kinda silly is what I mean."

Scary movies or happy endings?

Sepo: "Scary, though it takes a lot to phase me."

Izjik: "Bullshit, you jump every time the camera angle changes. I like scary too, but with happy endings. Things can get bad, yeah, but it's always good to see folks making it out in the end."

Any special talents?

Izjik: "I can do a one-handed pushup!"

Sepo: "That's because one of your hands hardly works."

Izjik: "You're just a hater because you can't do one. That can be your special talent - being a hater."

Sepo: "Yes, fine, let's brush over my musical composition abilities and skills in veterinary medicine. My true special talent is being a hater."

Izjik: "Damn straight."

Where were you born?

Izjik: "The enclave of Edeme’eneha, deep in the N'Diki swamp. I think it was a lovely place to grow up, all in all. I really miss it sometimes."

Sepo: "I was born in a brothel basement in the Ulahdrian capital city of Seluthena, the largest metropolis beneath the waves. I... I also miss it sometimes."

Do you have any pets?

Izjik: "Nah. I never really got the concept of an animal you don't eat."

Sepo: "Landhorse is more of a business partner. She gets me where I need to be, and in exchange, I give her food, shelter, and pet her sweet nose from time to time. She's the best of horses, a gentlewoman among beasts."

What sort of sports do you play?

Izjik: "Does fighting for fun count? There's this bar I like where I can always get into a scrap if I'm looking for one. I think people have started placing bets every time I walk in."

Sepo: "I would go on cross-country camping trips when I was a teen in the Saryimastra Seat. That involved swimming for a few days at least, so I suppose it could be a sport. I found it very relaxing, escaping from all the noise and fuss of the temple. Sometimes Saius would go with me, but usually, I'd go off on my own."

How tall are you?

Izjik: "Tall enough to skin my fist on your teeth, lanky ass!"

Sepo: "You are five foot two. I'm six foot five. I really don't think you are."

What was your favorite subject in school?

Izjik: "I never went, but I liked learning how to set snares during my apprenticeship. It was the only thing I'd sit still for. Looking back, maybe that's why Dzako had me learn so many."

Sepo: "My education was rather... propaganda-filled. Most of the history I enjoyed learning turned out to be false. A lot of the books I read were horribly censored, though I didn't know it at the time. I suppose music. You can twist the words and intentions of music to whatever aims you wish, but the heart of it is always pure."

What is your dream job?

Izjik: "I mean, whatever gets me paid and let's me work outside. I heard Twenari talking once about these people called potion hunters? Apparently, they hunt magical plants and animals for alchemists to use in their work. That sounds like a hell of a lot of fun!"

Sepo: "I've... This is going to sound stupid, but I've always wanted to compose my own songs. In Ulahdris, music was strictly regulated and created by the church. But here on the surface? It's chaos. Any asshole with a kazoo can play whatever he wants. I... Oh, it's all nonsense anyways. I'm fine doing what I need to in order to survive."

Izjik: "You've gotta let yourself live a little, Sepo. I'd love to hear your music!"

Sepo: "Truly? Then... Then perhaps someday, I'll work up the courage."

.

World's most married platonic soulmates, for real. I'll tag @kaylinalexanderbooks @mk-writes-stuff @sleepyowlwrites @corinneglass and anyone else who wants to play :)

[shortpplfedup]

Episode 10 has put me squarely in my Jeng feelings in a way I have not obsessed about a character probably since Teh Krittikorn Saetun. After watching him compartmentalize his way into a complete abdication of responsibility this week, and having read literally every piece of stellar meta the fandom has churned out, but especially from folks like @bengiyo and @nakasomethingkun about the corporate setting actually being the point of this story...I'm completely down the rabbithole, no way out guys. I vacillate between my optimistic and pessimistic expectations on how satisfactorily this story will wrap. @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm STAY on Tee's ass and I can't quite say they're wrong. But the thing I'm now 100% sure about is that the romance is not the point of this story. The romance is here in service of points Tee wants to make and themes he wants to explore around capitalism and queerness (second time Tee is going hard at this idea, after poking at it in Lovely Writer). Tee is using romance because it's the most effective way to make queerness legible for and saleable to a general audience, WHICH IS IN ITSELF A COMMENTARY ON CAPITALISM AND QUEERNESS BUT I JUST BLEW MY OWN DAMN MIND AND HAVE TO PUT THAT IDEA DOWN FOR NOW.

Jeng, Jeng is the character sitting at the intersection, at the tension point between capitalism and queerness. Jeng, who thanks to @waitmyturtles DRILLING Asian family dynamics into my head over the last few months, I have realised is incredibly unlikely to be able to escape his fate as the heir to Jian Group. Why does Jeng work TWO FULL TIME JOBS? Because he can only have the things he wants if he also accepts the things he never wanted. He can't abandon Jian Group, but he can build next to it an entire other life: Pearl & Oliver, queer speakeasies, doing his little part to minimize food waste and support a marginalized community, and Pat. COMPARTMENTALIZATION. For all Jeng's big talk about work/life integration, he doesn't even consider that he can mesh the things he wants with the things he's obligated to do until Pat points it out to him under that bridge. Shouts to the homie @wen-kexing-apologist for breaking that scene down and making me realise that moment is the closest Jeng got this episode to the shape of the relationship he actually wants with Pat. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I say all that by way of preamble (I'm a long-winded bitch, strap in) on the way to one of my actual points: nobody actually KNOWS Jeng Kittiphong Atthachiranon. Even the two people closest to him in the story, Jaab and Tae, only know pieces. Pat barely knows him at all, because even though he desperately WANTS Pat to know him, the boss thing was a barrier to that, and now they've speedrun straight into a unholy mess when they should have been truly getting to know each other. You can see how, were it not for Jeng's slow motion rolling breakdown (of which his intense infatuation with Pat is honestly part and parcel) and Pat's role at Jian Group, these two could have spent a year at this pace, fucking and talking and falling in love and it would have been FINE. But the life Jeng never wanted broke containment and rolled over Pat, and now here they are.

@plantsarepeopletoo pointed out how the narrative punishes characters for going too fast or out of order (Jaab and Jen), and rewards those who take their time and stay the course (Chot). We thought Jeng would be the latter. That's the Jeng we're introduced to: calm, sensible, logical, responsible, in control. But that Jeng is a TOTAL SHAM, that Jeng is a façade built to meet the world's expectations of him, a carefully crafted and cultivated image of cisheteropatriarchal corporate masculine perfection. The Jeng who has been panting after Pat for the better part of a year and doing absolutely INSANE shit to get next to him, that's the real Jeng. This episode was Jeng trying to rebuild the wall between his two lives after having it collapse last ep and utterly failing BECAUSE PAT NOW IS PART OF HIS LIFE ON BOTH SIDES OF THAT WALL. He cannot neatly compartmentalize Pat into his Desired Life, because Pat also has to exist in his Expected Life. And Pat doesn't actually know Jeng, because this is all happening too fast and out of order, so he doesn't know that Jeng is in the middle of a full-on existential crisis as his two worlds collide.

Sidenote: Pat accidentally hit on Jeng's compartmentalization tendencies early in the show I realize, when he drunkenly whinged about how he couldn't understand why Jeng felt like two different people, and he didn't know which one was the real one. I think that sort of bullseye targeting at the heart of Jeng is one of a host of reasons Jeng fell so hard and so totally for Pat: he thought Pat understood him on some level. It's why having to come out to Pat, having to explain himself when he thought he didn't have to, knocked him onto the back foot and things haven't REALLY been right with them since.

It's so sad, and SO QUEER that Jeng is living this double life and it's slowly breaking him. He's coming apart at the seams trying to hold it all and not lose any of it. Jeng talked a good game about work/life integration, but the flip side of that is bringing your whole self to work. And he can't do that, he can't even think of doing that, right? But he's gotta do something because now Pat has been dragged into the mess, and worse yet Pat has brought Jeng's Desired Life to the direct and un-ignorable attention of the key figure in Jeng's Expected Life: his father. And while I think Jeng's father is aware of his Desired Life (disapprovingly natch, but silently allowing it as long as Jeng continues to live his Expected Life), I think he's stood ready to stamp it out the minute it becomes a problem. And the problem has arrived. That's why Jeng looks so sick when he realizes that Pat went to his father to resign. The shit has truly hit the fan. Compartmentalization is over.

[aita-blorbos]

*spoilers

AITA for surviving an assassination attempt?

For context, the other month my rival (18M) blackmailed me (17M) and my friends (15-18, F, M, cat) into pulling a heist so he could exonerate us, otherwise he'd be forced to disband our vigilante group. (He was a detective but that's not really relevant rn). Once we did it, though, he had the entire building swatted, absolutely surrounded by what looked like cops from all over the capital, and I had to let myself be arrested and interrogated to give my teammates time to get out of the premises. Of course we knew this was all just a plot on my rival's part to corner me and assassinate me, so we'd hatched an escape plan in advance to get me out. Fast forward a few weeks later, we ran into my rival during a heist on a ship, and he was absolutely, balls to the walls, furious at me. Granted, it was probably a buildup of so many things and this was just the straw that broke the camel's back, but he seemed genuinely pissed that I ruined his lifelong plot and that I 'have things that he doesn't' and 'don't let the bonds of my past hold me back'. But whatever, that's just Tuesday for us. But THEN (this all happened after we fought each other on the ship, so we were both pretty fucking drained) he decided to sacrifice himself to save me and my friends and asked that we complete our heist on his behalf to avenge him.

Like?? Yes, me and my friends would have done the heist regardless, but... I know he'd always been a sore loser - we've fought before, but it was something coy, the two of us had been holding back a little because we were scheming behind each other's backs - when he lost that fight, he'd said he hated me but we both knew that that wasn't the only thing he felt about me. (I also hated him, but we were in love about it. I thought he knew.) And now that he lost this battle, he just decided to... straight up go ahead and die? I'm sorry, did you think it was easy to contrive the entirety of Tokyo's police force and convince a desperate public prosecutor willing to sell people to the devil for one pack of yakisoba that she's capable of righteousness? I know my rival wouldn't have respected me if I had actually ended up dead in that dingy interrogation room anyway, the way I wouldn't have respected him if his initial deal was actually legit and not a coverup for his mercenary job. I survived for him, so why wouldn't he do the same for me? I know he could beat me in the game if he'd just - lived, and started another scheme to end my life, I don't know! It's so unfair.

Anyway, I just needed to get that off my chest, we have more pressing things to do rn. Like killing God. We're killing God on Christmas Eve BTW so if you ever feel like joining us on that, my number's still the same. Or, our online forum is still up. Whichever you'd like.

[hulahoopsoupgroup]

ive ranted about this to my friend like 3 times this week but ill rant again because im just so fed up and angry.

21st century american capitalism is so dismal. we put everything behind a paywall. you cant exist without paying money and you cant go anywhere or do anything without paying.

you have to pay to be born and you have to pay to survive. if you cant pay to survive, you have to pay to die. theres no escaping it.

most jobs in the usa require a college degree, but a lot of people cant afford to go to college. its honestly infuriating that people cant get the jobs they want because the education is so expensive. why do i have to pay tens of thousands of dollars to the government so i can get a job that will probably only barely keep me afloat in todays economy?

why do we pay writers and artists so little when they are one of the most vital parts of society. where would we be without the painters and authors who create beautiful scenes and impactful stories?

weve overcomplicated society so much that you have to jump through so many financial hoops to just, exist. you have to have insurance for everything. everything costs so much. why do i have to pay over 2 dollars for a bottle of water at work? why are the bags of candy 5 dollars?

all of this just makes everyone miserable, no doubt. i had a conversation with 5 other people and all of us have had severe depression/anxiety, had to be medicated, or needed a lot of therapy/not been able to afford it. and im not stigmatizing therapy in any way. if i could afford it, i would absolutely go, but my job doesnt pay much, so even one session would set me back so far regarding money.

the fact that its so normal for 11-13 year olds to start experiencing severe depression is so concerning. its almost like a rite of passage. ask anyone in gen z if they were depressed in middle school and theyll probably say "yeah." thats concerning.

young people's suicide rates have risen over 50% in the past 10 years. 42% of gen z considered suicide in 2021-22. the fact that i know 3 or 4 people (myself included) who have attempted suicide before age 16 or 17 is insane.

we're so depressed about the future and reasonably so. its so bleak. the world is burning, people are killing each other over such trivial things, nobody listens to each other, and the government is just going insane. how badly do you have to screw up to make a 13 year old want to kill themself because they feel like the future is so bleak?

how badly do you have to screw up to prevent so many people from going to college and getting jobs to support themselves?

how badly do you have to screw up to bar people from something as simple as going to the doctor and earning a basic living wage?

and to think that there are still people who think this is fine. there are some people who sit back and say this all makes sense, that it makes sense that you have to pay thousands of dollars for a few stitches in your hand if you have a cooking accident, that you have to insure every last bit of your life, that people killing each other over ideological differences is natural and cant be helped.

america needs to wake the fuck up and get shit done. its destroying its own future. its making the future generation kill itself because of how miserable it is. fucking do better and maybe you wouldnt burn to the ground in a dumpster fire

[madnessformunson]

Caught

Note: this is 100% based on a true event from my teenage years, you are welcome 🤣

You and Eddie just started seeing each other. It wasn’t anything official yet, just talking and flirting. On this particular morning you were excited to see him, you had something to tell him and couldn’t wait to see his reaction. As you approached his locker you yelled out,

“Hey there munson, what’s going on?”

“Uh oh here’s trouble with a capital T. What nonsense are you trying to drag me into today?” Eddie groaned with a smile as he faced you.

“Nothing, nothing at all” you smiled.

“Ok spill it, I can tell you are up to no good”

“Well I overheard my dad saying that he was taking El and Max to the pool today after school to swim, so that means the Hopper residence will be Hopper-less” you said with a grin. He looked at you with wide eyes as you leaned in and whispered in his ear, “wanna come over to my place”

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna get me murdered. If your dad catches us I’m a goner” Eddie panicked.

“He won't, I swear! He’s gonna be gone, we will have the whole place to ourselves for a few hours”

“You are gonna be the death of me” he grinned.

“So you're in?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely”

At the end of the school day you rush to Eddie’s van. On the way there you inform him to park a block over just in case one of your nosey neighbors sees Eddie’s very recognizable van.

He quickly parks and you walk hand in hand to your house. As soon as you unlock the front door, his lips crash into yours. You both make your way up to your room giggling.

You start to intensely make out, pulling Eddie’s shirt off. Just as you take your top off you hear the front door crash open.

Hopper yells out, “it’s not my fault the pool was closed El, they need to keep all those little kids out of it.”

“Shit shit shit” you say as you pull your top back over your head.

“What’s going on-“ Eddie starts and you shove him in your closet.

“Be quiet. My dads home”

“Great, I told you this would happen!”

“Shhh! I’m gonna go down there and see if they are leaving anytime soon. Then we can plan your escape” you said as you closed the closet door.

“It’s fine it’s all gonna be just fine” you talk yourself up before opening your bedroom door and heading down to face your dad.

“Hey guys I didn’t expect to see you around here anytime soon” you said with a forced smile.

You dad was in the kitchen trying to make El some waffles in the toaster.

“The pool was closed! Can you believe that? We were so excited” El pouted in the dining room chair.

“Oh that sucks, what are you guys gonna do now?”

“We are gonna watch a movie, care to join us?” You dad stated.

“Uh I actually have a ton of homework to do so I’m just gonna -“ you say as you turn to walk out of the kitchen.

“Hey wait y/n” El started, “I think your shirt is on inside out?” as she comes up to you pulling on the tag.

“Oh silly me!” You yell out as you run towards the stairs.

You get to your room and close your door. You open the closet door to find Eddie haphazardly in your closet, trying to not knock any clothes off the hangers.

“We are gonna have to come clean Eds” you said as you hang your head down in defeat.

“What! No way am I going out there. Your dad is the chief of police, he knows how to commit murder and get away with it” Eddie said as he got out of your closet. “I can sneak out the window,” he suggests.

“No, it has a screen that is like bolted on. Even if we could get it off, you’d have to jump over the fence. He will totally hear you”

“Maybe I can just hang out in your closet until he leaves for work again” Eddie tries to suggest.

You let out a chuckle. “You can't just live in my closet. I think we just have to act natural and get you out of the front door as fast as possible.” Eddie just gulps.

He gathers his things and you make your way down the stairs. You can feel your dad's eyes on you as you act like nothing out of the ordinary is going on.

“Thanks so much for bringing me that book I appreciate it” you said to Eddie as you opened the front door.

“What-“ Eddie started until he was met with a quick jab in the side from you elbow he chokes out “oh yeah of course anytime”

Hopper just glares at Eddie as he exits the house.

A few weeks pass and of course you got in major trouble and we’re grounded. But now your family is having a small get together and you want Eddie to be there. When you invite him that morning to come for dinner he said, “absolutely not sweetheart no fucking way am I going back to your house” you rolled your eyes. “Did you see the look he gave me? That was the look of someone who was planning to commit murder!” Eddie finished.

“He’s not gonna kill you Eds! Come on, that was weeks ago. I got grounded and now he is over it, water under the bridge. No one will bring it up.” You say as you grab his arms trying to convince him to come.

“You are going to be the death of me sweetheart, literally” Eddie groaned as he locked hands with you to walk to class.

He came a little later than everyone else to the dinner, you knew it was because he was nervous. He showed up at the door and you walked with him into the backyard. When he greeted your dad, Hopper locked eyes with Eddie.

“Nice to see you outside of my daughters room” Hopper stated not breaking eye contact. Eddie’s face went bright red. After some small talk you were able to pull Eddie to the side.

“I told you he wanted me dead,” Eddie grumbled.

“He does not, it's fine.” You stated “you know I was thinking…”

“Oh no no no” Eddie groaned.

“It’s fine I was just going to say we can say you have to head out early, and sneak you backup to my room so we can pick up where we left off” you said grinning.

“No way y/n I would like to continue to live” Eddie stated.

“Ok no biggy, but I did take the screen off my window..”

“Well I better go say my goodbyes now then, meet you in your room in 5” Eddie said as he walked towards the backyard.

[autisticempathydaemon]

Busybee Ships #3

Rarepairs are fun, I’m bored and/or procrastinating other projects, and the world could always use a little more chaos let’s gooo

Pairings: Childhood friends to lovers, Imperium, Pre-relationship!Tyler/Unnamed Receptionist (Reece) For clarification, this is the Receptionist that mistakingly sends Pet to Vega instead of Cam. Also available on AO3!

“-the rest is fair game, and I can’t wait to see what y’all do with the place.” That ironically cheery chime plays, signaling the end of the broadcast, and there is a moment of shell-shocked silence across the capital before the chaos crescendos even louder than before. The sound of crashing, catastrophe, and destruction looms threateningly outside, and Reece, tucked tight and secret inside an unused classroom of the Academy, tries to turn his back to it all, curled small and covering his ears below the window. The former receptionist tries to brainstorm an escape plan, but another blood-curdling scream cut frighteningly short makes it hard to think about anything except how close that must have been. 

Every second he sits and waits, the calamity and certain death inch closer, and Reece knows that he will not be shown mercy and that he certainly can’t fight his way out as a healer. Then a shadow appears on the ground, backlit ominously by the roiling red sky. Reece freezes, knowing his comeuppance has come for him and praying he had had the courage to do what he’s been dreaming about since he was eight. 

“There you fucking are- move!” A hand pushes the back of Reece’s head, forcing him to tumble forwards, and he can only watch dumbly as the other person leaps in through the window and slams it shut behind him. 

“Tyler?”

“Nope, sorry, just me, the Big Bad Wolf. Who else would it be?” the enforcer snarks, giving Reece an incredulous, stern look before peeking over the window sill. 

“What’re you doing here?” Reece asks numbly, not fully processing the sight of his childhood friend alive and in front of him. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Are you for real?” Satisfied that they’re safe for the moment, Tyler crouches with his back to the wall, staring down at his friend’s dumbstruck face. “You always hide here when you’re scared, and it’s fucking terrifying out there. You were a sitting duck, so let’s get a fucking move on.” The earth elemental hauls the healer off the ground with strong, adrenaline fueled arms, and Reece tries to hold on with hands that had gone numb from being clenched so tightly.

“Wait wait wait Ty, I have something to tell you-“ he tries to force out before the man he’s been in love with as long as he can remember grips his forearms tight, levels him with a look, and pulls him through the door.

“We need to get to the garage where I can steal one of the Enforcement Squad cars,” Tyler says quietly, casing the hallway before taking Reece’s hand, booking it to the South Wing, and giving the other boy a reassuring grin over his shoulder. “Whatever it is, it can wait till we’re safe.”

[monstrousvoice]

Anon returning with more pondering.

How do you think the omens in Lyndell feel about Margit, if they know about him? Because one of the lore bits on omens says that some are allowed topside and given their cleavers, but only if they'll serve in some capacity.

Do you think the ones in the sewers resent 'Margit' for being able to be a commander? Like one hand his service is good visibility for Omen not all being total monsters, but also he's.. The Fell. His reputation is literally Scary McSpookyName.

I was just pondering his and Mohg's time in the sewers and wondering if they made friends down there. If other omens heard them crying in their shackles and came to be of comfort, knowing the pain of being abandoned. If they survived those first few weeks down there because the omen had to stick together to survive.

I'm now pondering if Morgott ever did anything for the omen, as king. Because he does still resent his own curse, but also if he made a law about omen that leaves enforcing it to people who likewise probably believe omens to be cursed. And social mores aren't going to change overnight, even if he did do something like make abandoning children illegal.

Sad thoughts. Though i can comfort myself with the mental image of Mohg at least having friends to take with him to his cursed blood slumber party in the palace while fixing it up. Still a fucked up dude, but we love an antagonist with genuine friends. Or we can all pretend Morgott visits the sewers on occasion as Margit and brings presents. Because if i think about him visiting and finding newly abandoned children i'll get sad.

Okay this is a long response, so more under the cut!

Honestly, I think a majority of Omen in Lyndell are vaguely aware of Margit in a "I think I heard that name somewhere before", simply because news travels through word of mouth in the capital. They would only hear about him through gossip above the city grates that keep them locked away, and that's only if people are brave enough to talk about him. With such a fearsome reputation as a Tarnished killer, he isn't spoken of much in public.

I have two dueling ideas of how the people of Lyndell view him. Those who hold their suspicion and discriminate against Omens (which is many, being truthful) they don't speak his name for fear of gaining his attention, for fear of bad luck and misfortune coming their way. Those who are more progressive (which I firmly believe exist, the Knight's Calvary being a prime example of those who don't care about Omen lineage) do talk of him, and have nothing but praise. 'Margit the Fell is a defender', 'The Fell Omen protects us and keeps us safe from outsiders', etc. They recognize the devotion this Omen has to them despite the hatred he faces on a daily basis.

If, and don't mistake me this would be disastrous if it happened, Morgott would be revealed to the world and his Omen heritage found out, he would have some support. Not much, but it would be there. I fully believe the Knight's Calvary would go out of their way to help him escape the capital and find somewhere safe. There would be those brave enough to risk speaking out against the masses, insisting that he served them the best he could not only as Margit the Defender, but as Morgott the King. They would suffer for it, but it would spark a movement.

As for Omen who live outside the capital, they are aware of Margit, and I feel they would have equally divided opinions. Some see it as a positive sign, an Omen getting such a high position as Commander in the Golden Order, giving their kind a good name as reliable, protective, intelligent.

The other side is how he's pushing things too far, how he's going to make everything so much harder for them all. 'The Fell'? That title only spreads more fear of their kind! He's known for his bloodshed and the terror he causes in others.

I have my own headcanon that Omen do have their own communities and work together to survive, as well. In the sewers, some of the older Omen are devoted to staying near the openings of the tunnels, waiting for new babies to be abandoned. They sit under the dappled star light peaking through the grate at midnight, jerking awake at the sound of the gate opening. Their eyes glow as a dim lantern comes into view, and they see a shaking noblewoman being held close by her husband. She sobs quietly as they step closer, and the Omen sees the small bundle of cloth in her arms. They hold their own hands out, massive compared to the couple, compared to the tiny bundle that hasn't even started to live. The noblewoman is just barely able to move her shaking hands forward and give her newborn away, and she all but collapses when she does. Her husband cries silently, helping her stand and pulling away before either of them change their minds. The adult Omen turns and leaves quickly, knowing that the presence of the baby will make it more likely they do change their minds. They can't though. Changing their minds means certain death, for all of them. The Omen remembers the cries of each parent that goes through this with them, the way they call for their baby to come back, how they want to hold them one last time. The Omen knows the consequence of listening to them.

Morgott, as king, I believe tries to change this very slowly. He's very aware that enacting a new law for Omen and Misbegotten to be seen as citizens right out the gate is going to be met with lots of push back. It's a weird contradiction of his personality. He doesn't think he deserves anything good, not even a real bed or decent meals, but he doesn't believe other Omen or Misbegotten, especially not children, deserve to go through the same things he did. He's proud of his strength and resilience, but also feels ashamed of why he has such qualities. One of the many intricacies about him I personally love to imagine.

Any laws or rules he does enact are small, but helpful. No pouring dangerous perfumers or concoctions in the sewers - this helps the citizens, but also helps those in the sewers. It is illegal to beat or attack an Omen or Misbegotten in the capital - this can be played off as general citizen safety, but it also leads to less injured and hurt in the sewers when they sneak out for food. He creates and enforces small laws like this. Trying to make the abandoning of children illegal is obviously the most worthy goal, but since it's something that's been enacted for…possible centuries depending on how long a demigod like Morgott has been alive, it's not something that citizens will take kindly to. Especially those who work with Omen Killers. It's a very delicate situation, because moving too fast leads to more destruction and death than they currently face. The best possible scenario, in my opinion, is Morgott being given more political and civilian support to create these laws, and then following them. Easier said than done, however.

[48787]

I've learned just how much I appreciate "Decentralization" Not the shitty fucking crypto bro "Yooo dude if we just do the fetishization of capital harder it'll surely be decentralized, surely we just need to do it harder bro" kinda shit But the idea that like, even if the systems that maintain the standards that maintain social power/value of certain things we care about goes under (Whether through bankruptcy, lack of resources, lack of userbase, etc) I will still be able to maintain the personal value I find or have already found through relying on those systems. So it would be better if those systems were more easily able to be opted out of to make that transition smoother if/when it happens and so I can maintain my own personal standards!! (Not fetishizing individualism, just saying that I am an individual person who wants to be able to force my own standards to be applicable to my own life. This very much is in support of giving power to the workers forced to use these systems the power to more easily destroy the systems they work within if they need to and force their own social standards to become the new system. All my posts are attempts at corrupting your mind with commie brain washing, you must understand this because once you do you might begin to accept this as well)

I've been thinking about swapping from Discord over to Matrix for a little while now for this exact reason but didn't know just how far reaching it applied. It contextualizes why I wanted to swap over to firefox much more aptly rather than just doing it because I simply hated chromium. I wanted more. It also makes be better appreciate tumblr, and why I felt so able to actually commit to a social meda for once. It's because the blog is my own and I always have the export button right in front of me. If I don't like my blog, I can make a new one. If I don't like tumblr I can leave tumblr and still have my blog (just without the value of being able to reach a wider audience... which I didn't even want to begin with!!! I just wanted an audience and I already have that with my friends and current mutuals!!! I don't care about audience growth, I'd rather deeper entrench the social investments I already have made in the social entities I enjoy). And since I'm no longer worried about this being my entire being (No longer fetishizing social media), I am no longer worried about this being my own shot at having a blog, I can take more risks!!

I can see posts my wife sends me where she's like "I don't know if I can reblog this or not" and say "No you totally can if you want, in fact I want to so I'm going to reblog it right now" and it pushes both me and her to be more honestly depraved with each other, which is lovely!! It lets me show off that honest depravity with people who are okay with seeing it more easily too!! It's just super liberating and I would only be able to feel this way if escape was possible and I have a safety net insuring I can make sure that net continues to exist and continues to widen. Sure, it requires a certain amount of tech literacy, a certain amount of economic literacy, a metric shit ton of political and class literacy, and at least one other person willing to help me, but hey I have all those things so I know my net will work for me!! Anyway, this was just more agency-posting. If you are empathizing, sympathizing, or are envious I'd recommend starting by figuring out what you want your safety net to capture, why you want that to be able to be captured, what happens if you're wrong (not if you're wrong, just what would happen first), and then whether or not your current net actually does or doesn't already capture what you want it to so you know where to put your focus into!!

And if you want advice for where to start on that I highly recommend at least skimming Das Kapital (Or just Capital or Capital: A Critique of Political Economy or whatever you know it as, labels are meaningless beyond the meaning we want them to have, as long as you know that I'm talking about Marx's economic analysis book that's fine) and coming to an understanding of what value is and what money is and how they are not linked. That's what allowed me to get this far, and I think if more people were able to not only unlink their personal value from money but also take steps to limit their own desires and pursuing of capital to better focus on their "real" value more and more people would be able to be "this far" as well!

[rollercoasterwords]

As a fic writer, how do you stay positive and not stress yourself out with constantly comparing?

I've been really struggling with that. I start spiraling when a certain chapter doesn't get as many comments as usual, comparing my hit counts and kudo counts to other fics, and it's really not healthy but I'm struggling with knowing how to stop, how to just be happy and proud of the response I've gotten. Any thoughts or suggestions would be much appreciated.

honestly? i know this might seem counterintuitive but my best advice in that situation is probably to stop posting for a while

like. for me the thing that helped most/still helps most when i find myself falling into the trap of comparison was taking a step back and reevaluating why i wanted to write and what i got out of writing in the first place. like, for me, the core reason i write is for the joy of creating something, and getting to share it with others is all just a bonus. but i haven't always felt that way, and it definitely took a lot of reflection and having to unlearn a lot of social messaging to get there.

i think we are all very much blasted with the message that the most important metric for how worthy art is = how big the audience looking at it is. and i think, because of the way capitalism conditions us to interact w art, it's really really easy to feel like your art is only meaningful if people are seeing it and telling you it's good. like, the focus turns to outside affirmation rather than an interior sense of worth.

but the act of creating art has merit in and of itself. art is worth something because the act of creation is beautiful and joyful, regardless of who sees or doesn't see the final product.

writing fanfiction has helped me find the joy in writing again by removing it from the sort of profit economy that conditions me to think art is only worth something if it can be sold. before i got into writing fic, i felt this sense that creative writing wasn't worth anything unless it was something that i could one day publish which really just stifled me, and it wasn't til i went "fuck it i'm just gonna write something for the fun of it with no plans to ever try and get other people to read it" that i started to really enjoy writing again. and i think that's why i tend to be really wary of anything that starts to treat fic like books or pull fanfic back into this pseudo-profit economy where worth is measured by online popularity/tiktok virality--bc for me, fanfiction is an escape from that sort of mentality.

now, i try to be really vigilant about when i'm starting to fall back into the habit of feeling like my writing is more or less valuable based on whether it gets more or less hits/kudos/comments etc. i think this winter i finally reached a point where writing fic was starting to feel too much like a job w the pressure i was putting on myself to write a certain amount of words or meet certain deadlines, so now i've just been writing without posting anything for like 2ish months and i've found it really helpful! it's good to remember that writing is fun and rewarding even if nobody is seeing it in the moment and there's not that constant feedback loop of affirmation.

and if getting that outside affirmation is a driving factor in why you're writing, and it's draining because it's driving you to constantly compare, then i think it's worth taking a step back and evaluating why you want to write and whether it's like....emotionally sustainable. there's nothing wrong with wanting affirmation and wanting people to see your work, but at least for me anytime i've prioritized outside affirmation it's weakened my own interior sense of worth and made me much more likely to burn out or abandon writing projects. it's difficult bc like i said we are all very much conditioned to prioritize outside affirmation when it comes to art, but for me reframing the way i think about what makes art worth creating in the first place has literally made my writing experience a million times better. so, the most concrete advice i have for giving yourself space to do that is just--stop posting for a bit. stop seeking an audience in any way shape or form. give yourself some time to write by yourself and for yourself, to figure out what about writing brings you joy when there is no outside affirmation and make that the centerpoint of your creative endeavors.

i think there might also be a skin on ao3 that hides kudos and hits and comment numbers, so it might be a good idea to look into that if you're really struggling to stop comparing! also, i highly recommend cj the x's video essays the kronk effect and 7 deadly art sins, as well as jamie berrout's essays against publishing if ur looking to challenge/reframe/expand/adjust the way you think about art + literature :•)

[laguerrillaoriental]

March 19th, 2021.

Log #5

Capitán Mia Moreira. Compañía de Operaciones Especiales Escorpión. Batallón de Infantería Nº 14.

Que mierda estoy haciendo?

I don't know what I'm doing here. Not really. At first it was survival, claro, but now that I have linked with Libertad I am not so sure.

They have an escaped plan. The leader, Clara Garcia, has put her guerrillas in overdrive. She has sacrificed considerable manpower holding specific checkpoints and outposts. Specific men and women, like Dani Rojas, are working around the clock to set the right conditions for our escape.

Specific women like Dani Rojas and...myself.

I made a deal with Clara Garcia: I help them here. We all escape. I'm giving transport back to a U.N friendly nation. From my understanding Dani Rojas has a similar deal. This in itself is insane. Dani is one hell of a guerrilla.

And unlike Dani, I am not a fucking guerrilla. I could be- I have all the skills. Dios knows that Clara has been putting me to good use. But I am still a member del Ejercito Nacional, and of the United Nations. Can I go home having done what I have done? Will I be court martialed? Will my unique situation placate any judges?

And then there is also the matter of these people: Another Latin American country suffering from Western influenced oppression. My family survived La Dictadura in Uruguay. We didn't have guerrillas fighting for us- Or anyone fighting for us. Those that had tried before the dictatorship were in jail when they took power.

I remember well how, every year, my family would march in the capital. Protesting with thousands of others for the current government, the democratic and open-minded ones, to fucking find our missing loved ones. To actually put the criminals from the dictatorship to trial. And this was over twenty years later.

Can I let that happen here? And what if they lose? Marching for the rights of the dead isn't as harsh as being those dead- Stuck in a dictatorship.

I can't decide. Perhaps once we leave this damn island. Santuario ya no es. I'm ready to go.

[sonic-spirit]

Capitalism is ruining the internet. In lots of ways, but today’s grievance:

I just wanted to know if I’m the only trans boy who wants to wear a vaginal plug just around, and enjoy the fullness while just doing things in life. And I’m not, but I had to put up with legions of non-relevant search results and install the Reddit app (I hate Reddit), to end up on a sex toy seller’s page with a review sharing my interest and experience. And that sucks.

The internet, in its essence, is a communication tool connecting people. But that communication is getting more and more degraded as companies chop it up, turn it into a place where we are speculators rather than participants, marks to be sold to, chaff to be processed. “The internet is for porn,” was a silly mantra, but it was also kinda true. The internet had many, many places people had set up to share and talk about the things they found sexy. But more and more, puritanism and Finance are invading and restricting sharing and access. And it’s not even that things are behind paywalls, though that’s also a palpable presence. Credit card processors crack down on NSFW content, and start squeezing sites to restrict what they host to those processors’ stipulations.

And the arguments for why don’t hold water. None of it actually protects anyone, and vulnerable communities are put in more danger, as our very existence is up for “political debate”. Like, sorry, no, we as trans people deserve to be alive, and your restrictions on us receiving healthcare or even being acknowledged as existing around minors are fucking goulish. Disabilities make work/finding a job/keeping a job/financial stability in general difficult to even impossible, and are fucking expensive in the first place, and many disabled individuals turn to sex work. And there’s nothing about sex work that actually makes it more exploitative or demeaning than “regular” work. But demonizing it, making it harder for sex workers to find clients and communicate with one another to help keep each other safe puts them in so much more danger. The fear mongering and pearl clutching around trafficked individuals being coerced into sex work doesn’t help those trafficked victims, in fact it boxes them in and makes them less safe, grants them fewer paths to escape or protection from abuse, AND it presses those who weren’t coerced into tighter corners and worse situations. It gives more strength to pimps, and keeps the money, power, and freedom out of the hands of the people who need it.

And oh, “If I were in a bad Situation, I would simply Not Be a Sex Worker,” except, brainiac, there’s no fuckin social safety net. This garbage capitalist system is working exactly as designed, work or be homeless, work or don’t eat, work or don’t get the medicine you can’t live without, work or just fucking die. Sick? TOO BAD. Injured? TOO BAD. Chronic pain? TOO BAD. “Stop being weak, clearly you deserve to die, if you just can’t cut it.” That’s the message we all hear, loud and clear, every fucking day.

And none if it has to be this way! There is no reason for any of it. We have enough. We have plenty. Literal tons of food tossed into the ocean to keep prices up, while people literally starve. Homes kept absolutely fucking empty at an appalling scale while people live homeless. It’s disgusting, and it’s totally avoidable. All this scarcity is entirely manufactured. We have enough. We have more than enough. And it can be so much better. But we need to tear down the structures keeping us apart, keeping us weak, keeping us tired, and starving, and in fear. Because those structures of power are our enemy. Because whether we fight or are compliant , they’ll kill us either way.

[rhube]

Have y'all watched Philadelphia?

I'm mostly thinking about the younger folks, who didn't grow up in the 80s and 90s with the panic about aids. But not solely. I didn't see it the first time until long past that - it was history to me. Even though I was alive back then.

I'm watching it for the second time now and angry all over again about capitalism, ableism, the deliberate ignorance of the healthy, racism... and of course the homophobia.

It is oh so relevant to right now.

I chose to watch it because it's one of the few films I could find the stream that didn't look vapidly empty.

Not enough films of this caliber made anymore.

No AI would write this.

This is why we need to support the WGA strike.

It's also a good film to watch for Pride if you need something that acknowledges the reality of prejudice.

There is for sure a place for escaping that reality, but sometimes I need to hear that it's seen.

The intersection between capitalism and prejudice is brutally apparent in Philadelphia and I hate that... that I grew up seeing rich fucks as Stock Bad Guys as opposed to real actors causing active harm at multiple levels.

Fuck Scrooge McDuck and his pile of gold coins. I no longer want to swim in it. I resent that it was made to look appealing. I resent that they took Scrooge, that powerful critique of the rich, and made him... fun.

I need more films that actually MEAN something, OK?

I want films that my friends WANT to talk to be about on a deeper level.

I miss CARING deeply, passionately, prominently about the big films of the year. I miss not being looked like a weirdo when I do.

And I'm watching it now. Every shit that makes us sit with our discomfort. And I think you need to watch it. Especially if you've been taught to have a digust response to any kind of sexuality that isn't vanilla.

I know that response. I grew up with it. It taught me that women didn't masturbate and the fact that men did was gross. It hid parts of my own anatomy and desires from me. It made me a stranger in every room where thebgeber binary was assumed and I didn't fit.

It damaged me.

If you're a young person now exposed to it, it's damaging you too, and it will take you decades to unpick that damage.

We need films like Philadelphia that punch us in the face with the damage of disgust. Of capitalism. Of the precarious cliff edge we have all been edged out onto by rich folk who want to ensure more space, all for them.

Support the WGA because we need good writing.

Support trans and non-binary people, because what's happening now has happened before. It is the exact same playback from the 80s and 90s.

And please support the folk you know eho are sick, and so often are the first to be edged out of existence when the rich perceive others have something and they want it only for themselves.

The song has some pretty fucking powerful things to say too:

[misano17]

More about the trans Shu fic

I forgor where I left off and I’m not gonna look 😎

Anyways I’ve decided that all the nobles are vampires. mostly for class divide and allegorical strength (that’s bullshit you fucking asshole I know this is so Shu can bite Mika at some point and Mika can be weird about it)

Anyways back to the queer shitlet children.

the abbey is real close to the capital ain’t it? I wonder if that has any affect on how the abbey is run. It’s highly corrupt 🥰. Most of the kids are being trafficked as servants or contract killers or any other manner of unsavory lines of work that these kids wouldn’t choose otherwise. Mika has killed before.

anyways Shu and Mika grow way closer. Mika doesn’t know who Shu is, and Shu doesn’t know that the abbey is corrupt or that his best friend is a contract killer. Good for them. They’re each other’s escape from their shitty realities.

Shu is still being forced to present extremely femininely and assume feminine roles even though he’s prefer to be treated like a human being that can make his own decisions. Also he is being passed up for the throne in favor of his younger step brother because he isn’t a man in the eyes of his father. Shu is obviously not happy about any of this. Also he isn’t allowed to make clothing at the castle because he got caught making “clothing unbefitting a lady of his social standing”.

So in response to that Mika has been learning how to sew and he made Shu a couple things with the help of the ladies at the abbey. Shu is really grateful but it is Shu so he does take the garments and alter them a bit to be more to his liking. Shu worries that Mika will be upset about this but Mika isn’t. It’s Mika, he’s actually quite happy because he was really worried about how they would turn out and having Shu compliment them and then show him how to improve makes him really really happy, because it means that the basic stuff he made is good enough for Shu to deem them of high enough quality for him to wear.

Anyways Shu starts sewing at the abbey in secret, away from the prying eyes of his father.

Shu makes a couple “jokes” about how he wishes he could just run away from his home and marry a guy to get him out of here. Mika jokes back that if it weren’t for him being a commoner, and a human they could do that together. Mika is actually joking, Shu is not.

Shit happens, these mfers get older they’re sixteen now. Shu is being married off to another guy and he is very unhappy about this. So is his betrothed, because it is Rei. They’re both upset about this. Shu talks to Mika about this and is like, “wait, why don’t we run away and get married when we’re older. We can go across the border and be long gone before anyone can catch us.”

and Mika is like “I’m sorry, we can’t. I’m not worthy of any of that. I can’t do that to you, you’re a noble and I’m a commoner, we can’t just-”(he doesn’t know that Shu is royalty) and Shu gets mad and reveals his royal title and they both leave for the day because they’re both upset.

Shu causes a scene at the wedding ceremony and the wedding is called off. Bitch convinces the court he is hysterical (bitch has woman who talks too much disease 🙄).

anyways his step mom is now plotting to have him killed 🥰🥰.

I’m done for now, I’ll be back.