#come at me with your ignorant views of robin gender

[nokingsonlyfooles]

You know what's super fun for me? Annoying established, evil corporate producers of content and elevating smaller, less-evil, independent creators. So say hello to Brigitte Empire, who is fleeing the UK like I fled the US and could use your clicks (and engagement, and currency.

And while I have your attention,

Would you like to have a little chat about how and why the Right appropriates the language of the Left, hoping to render it meaningless?

What even is fascism, anyways? Well, right in that Wikipedia article, they quote Ian Kershaw, who says:

"Trying to define 'fascism' is like trying to nail jelly to the wall."

For those of you in the New World, he means "Jello." I call that "Jello," although it would be equally difficult to nail what I call "jelly" to a wall.

Holy cow, we can't even decide what "jelly" means, how in the hell are we going to define an endlessly-adaptable right-wing reactionary movement? A scary word with no meaning is basically a real-life fnord. Is there any point in trying to get people like that Other Author to understand that trans folks and Nazis are not roughly equivalent just because they'd all rather not be punched for expressing themselves? Isn't everyone's own, personal "fascism" equally valid?

No.

Do you know what a robin is? Would it surprise you to know that "robins" in Japan, Europe, and the New World are actually three different species of small, brown, red-breasted bird? The word predates DNA testing, it's just something we called birds that looked robin-y. And if someone says "I saw a robin," no matter the continent, you know about what it looks like.

That's your man, officer! I'd know him anywhere!

...er, and so is he.

..You know what? Fuck you.

You have a Platonic ideal of "robin" somewhere in the filing cabinet of your mind, and if the bird you have encountered seems close enough (unless you are an experienced bird analyst) it goes in the same file.

This also works for images and representative language. "Oh, J. K. Rowling has eaten a robin?" you might say. Even if you only read the words on Twitter and never saw the bird die, you know approximately what that would look like. "Well, I wouldn't put it past her," you'd decide. "Was the robin trans?"

Robins are gender apathetic. I am not accepting rational objections on this. I will fight you.

Despite the anxiety of conservatives and others who want everything to fit in a neat little box, that's just how language and the human mind works. It's blurry, inexact, and defining the nuances requires endless discussion. However, if this guy showed up at your bird feeder...

...you would not communicate this information to a friend by saying, "I saw a robin."

Similarly, one would not ordinarily respond to an image such as this one...

...by saying, "Look! Death-Eaters!" That is so far from the blurry definition you have in your brain, there is just no question about it.

So what has happened to the brain of the lauded, best-selling author who makes a living communicating information with representative language?

Well, this isn't a unique phenomenon. This is a calculated political strategy, much like firing a bunch of chaff out of the back of a bomber to foul up the radar. In order to get away with doing really bad things and not get called out on them, the Right likes to target the language we use to call them out and render it meaningless. They may do so by zooming in so much that you brain gets bogged down in the minutia and begins to wonder if anything is a robin, or by zooming out so much and including so many vaguely-similar things that you begin to wonder if everything might be a robin.

The end goal is to disrupt society's Platonic image of a robin to such an extent that nothing is a robin. A "robin" can become some kind of political construct with vastly different meanings among an incredibly polarized electorate. You may define it in lock step with however the authority figures you favour define it, in order to signal your allegiance. So when the T-Rex visits your birdfeeder again and you yell to your visiting family, "Run! It's a carnivorous dinosaur!" your racist aunt and uncle will stand stock-still in the middle of the yard and say, "Well, actually, it's a harmless little brown bird, and you libs are just... AAH! OH, GOD. HE'S EATING US! WHY?"

...but that's not usually how it shakes out. If conservatives got instant karma like that, there wouldn't be any conservatives. Our modern-day dinosaurs don't have to eat people, they eat power.

What actually happens is, your racist aunt and uncle show up to Thanksgiving with an AR-15 and mow down all the robins in your yard, because those dinosaurs are dangerous and they eat people. Then they vote in as many T-rexes as possible, to fight the menacing little brown birds. And if the T-Rexes should happen to nom a few of your little cousins, or take a limb off your aunt or uncle, all they have to do is blame the birds. It's super effective!

Get a human concept of gender, you little freak!

I can't tell you if Rowling is selling a meaningless, over-broad definition of "fascism" because she bought the lie, or because she cynically expects to profit from it, but it doesn't really matter. The ball is in play, and you're gonna get clocked in the head with it if you don't pay attention.

One of many items on the current conservative agenda is: Redefine "fascism" out of existence so we can call for genocides without getting compared to the Nazis all the time. Rowling is towing the party line by zooming out. A fascist movement, like the Death-Eaters, can include people who are tired of operating in secret and want to openly participate in society. It can include people saying that something you find horrifying and wrong is just normal and should be accepted. If those aspects of a political movement are inherently wrong (as fascism is), we don't have to make moral judgments about what those people want or who they are, they're just wrong. It doesn't matter whether they want life-saving medicine or to murder an entire culture - these things are equally bad because good people don't do fascism!

...And a billionaire author with multiple theme parks and a castle is doing a good thing by fighting the fascists. Even the children! Well, they're probably not fascists, they're children, they're just confused. They'll get better if we don't let them have fascist medicine, or pronouns, or bathroom access. Or they'll die, but that's not our fault. It's just those damn false-robins trying to confuse you too.

It feels good to be a persecuted underdog fighting for human rights, doesn't it? Conservatives love it too. In order to be included, they have to rip up the standard definitions of "persecuted," "underdog," "fighting," and "human rights," but it can be done. Language evolves - that's not a bug, it's a feature. Anything that evolves can be bred to a purpose, and you gotta take a step back and make a moral judgment of what that purpose is.

We bred these for bloodsports in the first place, we do not need more of them! They can barely breathe and they can only be born via caesarian! For god's sake, adopt yourself a hybrid or a mutt... Like "Latinx!" (I'm a sucker for the runt of the litter.)

I wish there were more we could do on an individual basis. The sad fact of the matter is that as long as polarizing the electorate keeps certain people in power and protects the status quo, a lot of messed-up stuff is going to happen. Breeding a malformed language that obscures information instead of communicating it is just one small part of this machine. I hope I've given you enough context to see how it works, and another reason to choose your words with careful consideration.

We can't kill the T-Rexes, but if we stay on our toes, we can Red Queen this fucked up situation well enough to keep communicating that they are a threat.

[portgasdwrld]

📂 Op men + flirty reader

Featuring: Monster trio + Ace

Warning: suggestive, fluff otherwise 🫧

Gender neutral reader ✨

Luffy

Luffy was most of the time not even aware of your flirting with him until he noticed Nami and Robin chuckling in the corner faced to your defeated expression. He would look at them confused and back at you who was now pouting. He would probably ask you directly to explain what you meant …

-No, you reply with a pout as you dive into the delicious food, after your love interest asked you to repeat what you said.

-Ahhh, why not ?Come on tell meee, I wanna laugh too!

- You can be so dumb sometimes omg, you grumble annoyed.

Luffy just complimented your new outfit and you thought it would be amusing to reply with something flirty and you did. You told him you would look better without it if he wanted to take care of it.

He didn’t even listen to you as he was devouring his plate (literally). So you just stood there astonished and sat down to eat in defeat.

Zoro

He’s either ignoring you and blushing, or snapping back and blushing.

Zoro have been working out as usual, nothing at all special for you or the others. But you loved watching him, it was the way his tan body was glistening from his sweat and the warm heat of the sun, that just does it for you. His muscles flexing and his exhausted facial expression >

-Enjoying the view?, he finally snaps after you have been watching him for over an hour with now a refresher from Sanji. He was wiping his sweat away with a towel as he glared at you.

You sip from your drink and squint your eyes at him as a smirk curve your lips.

-Why? Am I making it hard for you to focus ?

You reply while sustaining the eye contact with him.

-I wasn’t expecting to have spectators, if you ask me.

He retorts while lying down ready to bench press again.

- It’s hard not to, when you are attractive like that.

You continue. He didn’t reply and only mumbled a “pervert” under his breath. Tho, you saw the way he blushed and smirked, but tried to hid it by continuing his workout.

Sanji

Flirting with Sanji is like personally trying to kill his poor heart. You say something and his head is already 10 steps ahead and suddenly he’s imaging having a family with you and dying together in the name of love. Yeah because he’s that dramatic and committed when it comes to love.

“Sanji, you always look so neat and classy. I live for it, it makes a change from the usual crusty pirates i used to bump into.” you sigh as you lean over the kitchen table, your hands cupping your smiling face.

That’s it, hearing those words from your beautiful mouth sent him to heaven just there. His cigarette falls in the water where he was washing the dishes and with heart eyes he turns his body to you. Seeing your smile and mischievous eyes, almost made his heart stop (or mouth drool-).

-Y/N-SWAAAN. IM SO GLAD YOU APPRECIATE IT~

You chuckle from his reaction as he grabbed your hands. You take the chance and liberate one hand to pat his blonde hair.

-You’re adorable, you reply with a giggle.

…Sanji haven’t recovered yet from this :/

Ace

It turns into a competition. Who can make the other one the most flustered. He always considered himself pretty flirty and confident in his skills, but when he met you, he met his rival. It just get shameless at some point and the others have to sometimes tell y’all to take it to close door…

After a long day on a mission, the crew had decided to throw a little party on the boat to cheer everyone up. Games were being played and you obviously decided to take part of it. It was going well until someone dared you to kiss Ace on his cheek. The freckled man slightly blushed and took a sip of his sake while shrugging his shoulders when you asked if he was fine with it.

-Anyway I will make it quick and sweet, or maybe I can go slow if that’s what you’re into?

You sheepishly say as you get close to him to complete your dare under the eyes of your curious crewmates.

-We’re still talking about a cheek-kiss here ?

He smirks while raising one of his eyebrow. You bow down a little to his level and placed your lips in front his ear, slightly brushing it.

-Well, maybe not.

-If you wanna fuck, you can just say that.

He just blurs out making everyone gasp. You grin and give him your most innocent facial expression before quickly pecking his cheeks.

- Come on, I’m not that easy.

My first time writing for one piece. Woop. Hope y’all liked it! Let me know🫶🏻

[jellyfishbeansontoast]

jealous jill

summary: a jealous steve - req

this isn’t edited but i believe it should be gender neutral if there’s any slip ups pls let me know!

Steve - the hair - Harrington was jealous. It wasn’t a problem he usually faced, in fact it was often the other way round. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by him the way girls fawned over him, or his hair. He’d noticed how they’d come into Family video, hovering by the horror section, the area that had the best view of the tills, with no intention of getting the Poltergeist.

But it was different when you came in like clockwork every Friday afternoon. Robin had guessed Steve had a thing for you pretty quickly as always. Every Friday he’d anxiously wait at the tills, usually being sent to do some random job Robin made up as he was too preoccupied to do his job properly.

The first time you’d come in Steve had been tripping over his feet to get to the till before Robin. Usually he was cool in front of girls he liked but something about you just made him stumble over all his words. Robin watched from the back, holding in a laugh when he forgot how to even work the till.

Since then he’d managed to hold conversations with you - barely. Finding out that you came every week to pick a film for your weekly film night. Steve almost wished he could score an invitation.

That was the usual Friday routine, until one time you didn’t show. Robin had teased him endlessly as he watched the door like a lost puppy. When closing time arrived Steve was slumped over the counter dejected.

“Steve” Robin whined, poking him in the back “I need you to help me shut up.”

“What’s the point when love is dead.” He mumbled, throwing a hand in the air.

Just as Steve had managed to pick himself up off the counter the bell rang, signalling a customer.

“Sorry guys we’re -” he was cut off by the sound of your voice, when he looked up the sight made him wish he hadn’t. Your hand was grasped firmly in that of Eddie Munsons. He felt like he’d been stabbed, you weren’t even together yet somehow he felt cheated on.

“Is it okay if we look for five minutes?” You asked, normally if it had been anyone else Steve would have been pushing them out of the door but he always made time for you.

He nodded reluctantly, shooting a withering look to the long haired boy next to you. Your excitable chatter echoed through the small shop, your conversation indistinguishable but he could tell whatever you had found was good.

“Just this, Stevie” you beamed up at him. He blushed at the nickname, heat rising up his neck, he clears his throat awkwardly before completing your order.

“Enjoy,” he waves his hand between you and Eddie “whatever you’re doing.” You make your way to leave and Steve’s head falls into his hands.

“That was painfully awkward, Harrington” Robin pats him on the back, her voice strangled with laughter.

“Love is dead” he repeats, slumping back onto the counter.

“Calm down jealous Jill.”

The week passes slowly and despite the gnawing feeling in his stomach that you’d much rather spend your time with Eddie he still looks forward to your visit.

Once the time has come Steve is unusually irritated and no longer looking forward to seeing you after one two many jokes from Robin.

“For Munson?” He snaps as you pass him the film at the counter. His voice is sharper than he intended and he recoils internally, “sorry, ignore that.”

But the damage is done, he’s shown he’s jealous. You lean across the counter, resting your chin on your hands. “And would you have a problem with that, Stevie?” A sly grin features on your face, Steve finds himself staring at your lips for too long, his eyes tracing the curve of your Cupid’s bow. God how he wished he could kiss that stupid grin off your face. He shakes his head, clearing the thoughts.

“Not at all, enjoy with whoever you want.�� He plasters on a fake smile.

You narrow your eyes coyly, a hint of laughter sparkling in them, “So you won't mind if this is for Eddie” you hold up the film in your hand, the cover of ‘Sixteen Candles’ displayed on the front.

“Didn’t realise Munson was the Chick flick type”

“No, but maybe you are?”

“What are you trying to say?” He asks with a grin.

“They’re asking you out, stupid” calls Robin from the back. Steve slams the door to the back room shut, his cheeks flaming red.

Your eyebrows are raised questioningly, “so?”

“I’m more of a Footloose kinda guy” he smirks, “but that’ll do.” He takes your hand in his, leading you out of the shop, leaving Robin to shut up alone but she’ll allow it just this one time if it ‘stops you moping around every week till friday.’

tagging some people who might be interested but no pressure to interact: @x-lulu @sortagaysortahigh @thisismynerdyself

[practically-an-x-man]

IDK who to ask you this about... Um... free choice??

5, 6, 7, 13

also 16, 18, 20, and

21... is there anything you'd like to share about your characters, their experiences, Pride, etc?

Thank you!! I think I'm going to answer this for Jimmy, since you're familiar with him and I haven't answered any of these for him yet :D

Pride Themed OC Ask Game

5. How did you figure out your oc's identity?

It was a combination of two things: one, I got some queer vibes from Lars when I watched the movie; and two, making a character a ghost means there's all sorts of historical culture and perspective you can play with, and I figured that would be interesting.

6. How does your oc feel about labels? Theirs, or in general?

In general, he's getting better about it. There are a lot of labels that are new to him, even ones that wouldn't necessarily be foreign to a modern queer person, so he's still trying to learn what they all mean.

For himself, his labels are possibly a little old-fashioned (it took him a while just to switch to "gay" when the common term in his time was... not that) but again, he means well and is trying to get caught up to speed.

7. Is there something that could cause your oc to question their identity? What?

Not really. He's been reminded of his identity his whole life, and most of his afterlife, for better or worse. He's questioned if it would be easier to suppress that part of his identity for societal reasons, just to marry a woman and ignore those feelings, but he didn't question his identity itself.

13. Would your oc be open to a poly relationship? Why or why not?

He'd have to work through some socially-ingrained standards of monogamy, since he comes from a time that was very strict about marriage and family values, but I think individually he'd be open to it once he worked through it. He's a loving, affectionate guy just by nature, I could definitely see him in a poly relationship if it presented itself.

____

16. Did you ever change an oc's identity when they were already established? Why?

I answered this one before, but the short answer is: yes in drafting/brainstorming, not once I've started publishing/posting their stories.

18. Do you prefer to give your ocs specific labels, or keep it unspecified? Why? If applicable, do you change their labels depending on circumstance?

It depends on what the OCs' perspective on it would be, based on their particular social and historical experiences.

People like Jasper and Katherine are more likely to understand or use microlabels, since they're younger, in the modern age, and have access to the internet and queer communities.

Kestrel and Eris would understand the different labels but wouldn't use them, since they view their gender identities as innate or outside modern labels. Kestrel's identity is tied to them being a changeling, and Eris' perspective is influenced from centuries of witnessing human views on queerness.

Jimmy, or my less-spoken about OC Vivienne, wouldn't give themselves specific labels because those labels didn't necessarily exist in their time periods. Vivienne would technically be nonbinary, and her being a siren is a metaphor for that, but in her time period that term didn't exist the same way it does today.

Rae, Robin, Madison, and Nikoletta might understand some labels but not all of them, due to their time periods or social circumstances (ex. Rae and Robin being from the 80s, Madison from the 60s, Nikoletta having spent most of her life in prison/isolated)

Anyway. Very long answer just to say that it depends on the OC.

20. Have your ocs helped you in self discovery? How?

Oh, absolutely. I process a lot of things through my OCs, and I've definitely worked through my thoughts on my identity using some of my OCs. Writing as a whole is a good way for me to process things, my identity included.

21… is there anything you'd like to share about your characters, their experiences, Pride, etc?

I think one of the biggest themes in my writing is this idea of "I love you enough that I want to learn", where one character is introduced to a particular community through their S/O and may not understand it immediately, but cares so much about their partner that they make a genuine effort to learn and understand. Sometimes this is candidly queer, like Jasper and Kyle's relationship; other times it's through superpowers or other fantasy elements, like with Nikoletta and Abner (their powers also represent chronic illness) or Warren and Kestrel.

Usually it's a mix of multiple things too, like Billy adapting to both Quinn's being transgender and her disabilities. It's just a repeat theme for me, but in a good way.

I think it's because I tend to write what I want, and as someone who is both queer and has physical difficulties/disabilities, I really just want a partner who will be open to learning about my experiences even if they don't understand it from the beginning. I don't expect someone to "get it" right away, I just want someone to be willing to put in the effort.

[anotherplaceintheuniverse]

we can be heroes

eddie munson x gender neutral!reader

trigger warning: season 4 spoilers; death and blood mention

summary: Reader is with Eddie during his final moments instead of Dustin

a/n: i haven’t written in a million years so it’s a little short <3

(read below the cut!)

You grunted as fell on to Eddie’s familiar mattress. “Alright!” You looked up as you stood. “Now you!”

You watched as Eddie looked towards the door.

“Babe, what are you waiting for?” You cried. “Come on!”

Eddie looked up at you and to the door again.

“Eddie!” You felt a panic in your chest. What was he thinking? “What are you doing?”

“Buying more time.” Before you could process what was happening Eddie pushed over the mattress in the Upside Down and cut the sheet you had made into a makeshift rope. The only thing connecting the two of you. Gone in a flash. By the time you realized what was happening, he had disappeared from your limited view.

“Eddie!” Tears sprang to life down your face. “Stop! No no no no no!” You ran to Eddie’s room and grabbed his desk chair putting it in the center of the room. You stepped on top of it and took as deep a breath as you could muster before jumping through the gate in the ceiling. In a split second, you felt yourself land on your arm, hard.

“Fuck.” You pushed yourself up and ran out the door trying to ignore the pain as best you could. “Eddie!” you called frantically searching for your boyfriend. “Eddie!”

Suddenly, across the field, you saw the all too familiar bats target a moving figure. You watched your boyfriend drop to the ground.

“Eddie!” Your voice felt hoarse as you ran towards him. “Eddie! No no no!”

When you finally reached him, he looked almost unrecognizable with blood covering his mouth and chest.

“Baby.” You grabbed his cheek gently. Tears were streaming down both your faces now.

“It was pretty metal, huh?” he chuckled. You could only nod in response. “I didn’t run away this time, right?”

“No,”  You gasped barely able to get the words out. You shook your head as your tears fell harder, if that was even possible. “You did so well, Baby.”

“(Y/N)?” He looked like he was trying so hard to keep his eyes open.

“I’m here.” You stroked his cheek gently.

“Promise me you’ll look after Dustin and all the other sheep?”

“I will.” You winced as you moved your hand not cradling his face and lifted your pinky slightly. He struggled to lift his own pinky and wrapped it around yours. You brought your intertwined hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles gently. 

“I’m finally a hero,” He grunted. 

“You always were, Eddie. You’ve always been a hero. To me, to Dustin, to Mike. You’re so good to so many people.” You rambled as you brushed his hair out of his face.

“I love you, (Y/N),” Eddie sighed his eyes fluttering.

“I love you, so much, Eds.” You hugged his body close to your chest and his body felt dangerously still. “Eddie?” You shifted his shoulders back to the ground. “Come on, Babe. Wake up...Please...Please just sit up...I wanna hear about the new campaign...I’ll even listen to your shitty music...” Even as the words spilled from your mouth, you knew your worst nightmare had became a reality. 

“Eddie,” you sobbed as you leaned your forehead against his chest just trying to be close to him. You couldn’t tell how long you stayed there until you heard someone frantically calling your name behind you.

“(Y/N)!” Your best friend, Steve knelt down beside you. “Are you okay?” He helped you sit up and finally saw the look on your face which had become covered in Eddie’s blood. He looked between you and Eddie’s lifeless body before wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered in your ear.

“We need to get out of here-” Nancy started to speak. You looked up to see her and Robin standing directly behind you.

“We can’t just leave him here!” Your voice was more frantic and angry than any of your friends had ever heard it.

“I got him, okay?” Steve cupped your face forcing you to look at him. “We’ll get him out of here and give him a proper burial and everything. We’ll honor him like the hero he is.” 

You bit your lip and lunged your body forward pulling Steve into the tightest hug. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“I got you,” Steve mumbled into your hair. He rubbed your back until you pulled away. “We all have you.”

Robin knelt down beside you and slowly helped you up as Steve and Nancy draped Eddie’s arms over their shoulders. Robin wrapped her own arm around you comfortingly. “He was a good guy,” she whispered as you all made your way to Eddie’s trailer.

“I know,” you nodded. “I just wish all the people he saved knew it, too.”

[twistednuns]

October 2022

Remember that when you ask for something, it becomes more possible that you will receive it. Your abundance is not measured by the things that you own. Your abundance is measured by your capacity to ask, to dream, and to answer. // Alice Sparkly Kat, October 2022

Matt and Rachel from Northern Ireland. Chatting about their time in Uzbekistan and the latest season of Derry Girls in the pool at Zephyr Lodge. Maya rolling my joint in exchange for a GnT. Talking to Declan about his business idea - importing his brother's honey from New Zealand to the UK.

Taking two interesting books from the hostel library: Susie Orbach's In Therapy and Labyrinth of Solitude by Octavio Paz.

My host family in Antigua - the couple was the same age as me and they had a feisty little daughter, Sofía. Unfortunately, their young dog caused a few problems so I grew resentful and was glad to leave after a week. But I enjoyed the learning opportunity because we always had long conversations in Spanish during our meals together!

The fresh laundry smell of the towels during my massage. Lemongrass-flavoured macadamia oil. Chill vibes and relaxing music, a nice masseuse. A good experience. Afterwards: more pampering. A lovely coffee to go and a passion fruit macaron. Making an appointment to get piercings.

I went to a shitty hostel party with Moana and Declan and was promptly abandoned. The attractive Austrian guy ignored me as well after a very short conversation. Frustrating. But I was very grateful for Miles and Lucie, a friendly couple from the UK. They took pity on me and I actually ended up having a good time. I even swapped shirts with Miles when he spun the wheel and got clothes swap with the opposite gender as a dare.

Cindy, my super friendly and professional piercer. I even met her tiny son at the studio!

Baking chocolate zebra cake with Sofía. Buying pink star sprinkles for her. Drawing rainbows together.

A cat (Misha) sleeping right on my table at Fernando's café. The word maullando/maullar (= to meow).

Simple but delicious Guatemalan food. Making Dobladas together. Frijoles con Tortrix. Invueltas de coliflor (cauliflower dipped in egg, then fried). Atole (a drink that reminds me of semolina pudding) and Chayote (a local type of vegetable).

Finally starting with my Insta stories, trying to catch up on the first two months of my sabbatical. Getting lots of positive feedback!

My first volcano hike (Pacaya). Walking uphill and climbing over the rocks was extremely hard and exhausting for me but somehow the view is always worth the pain. We grilled marshmallows over the hot stones, there was smoke coming out between the interesting lava formations. The sunset above the clouds was breathtaking and I got to pet a few horses.

More good words: sagacious/sagacity.

Robin Sloan's writing (he just released another great short story about a hotel in NYC, room service and publishing books).

Breathwork with Arija. Adiemus. A floating, expanding energy feeling. So good. Drawing OSHO cards. I got Past Lives and Celebration.

Swimming in the clear lake. A few rays of sunshine. Writing in my journal.

Lipton frambuesa ice tea. Palomitas with butter and salt. Mildly obsessed.

A day at Eagle's Nest. Breathwork. Talking to Ines and getting to know Véro from Canada/Paris. Drinking cappuccino with a view, sketching interesting houses from a distance. CATS. A spontaneous decision to stay for yoga. Shockingly it was a hip hop hip opener class but I was surprised by how much fun I had! Chrystee's awesome playlist surely helped. I felt strong and flexible and advanced. The view over Lago Atitlán from the platform made me feel so privileged. I received lots of recommendations, e.g. eating at Búho (which I did and the vegan tasting menu was incredibly delicious), and Roatan tips from Véro. We also talked about brave location and business changes.

I saw my first scorpio!

Belly scratches and toe beans - hostel cat Ana lounging in the morning sun.

Yoga, Reiki and then a lovely breathwork class with lots of breath retention and visuals. Purple, pink and orange. Emerging shapes. The reiki teacher touching our chakra points. I tried to paint what I saw using watercolours afterwards and loved it when the sun came out and illuminated my painting. I really should paint more. Palo Santo on my hands to remind me of the experience. Releasing some tension and feelings.

Kimchi miso soup with rice, beans, tofu cubes and lots of veggies at Del Lago. Deliciosa. Need to recreate it at home.

(And the lovely peanut butter cookie I ate for dessert.)

I found pretzel buns, sourdough bread with black olives and buttery almond croissants at Circles Bakery. Jackpot!

Meeting Brian and Lily in San Pedro. Drinks, karaoke, Hawaiian physio moves, deep talk and silly jokes (I like penis a lot = Pina colada).

Taking the boat to go to the other side of the lake, being surrounded by volcanoes. A truly special place.

A lucky streak when it comes to aiming accurately before throwing objects into the bin.

Seeing my first hummingbirds!

Horny breathwork. Learning that what angers me is instruction. Being told what to do. And a Russian accent? Intrusive questions. Especially about feelings. Tell me what you're feeling and where is a demand that made me shut down completely. Difficult but interesting - where does this resistance come from?

A morning swim in the lake. Enjoying the sun and view of the volcanoes. Spinning around and meditating in the water.

A party with horrible hippie trance music - I felt so out of place. But I actually had a little fun whenever the DJ played something Bollywood or hip-hop inspired.

Jarra embroidery on the curtains in my room at Del Lago.

An extremely chill Sunday. Desayuno típico. Meeting Za and his daughter Petra. A video call with Sash. A croissant from Circles Bakery. Bought a ring for my conch piercing. Creative play session with Kyle (he had face tattoos and I kinda loved them on him). I was the only one there so we started talking and he wanted to do some Inner Child Work. I told him about my favourite witch stories from when I was a kid. I would sit at my desk for hours, drawing and listening to audiobooks. So he sent me to the garden to collect things for a spell he wanted me to create. I had to walk through the magic gate to step into my powers. So I intuitively came up with a spell for more balance in my life. I burned my spell, included all elements using holy water from Lourdes and plant materials. I drew tarot cards and wasn't surprised how accurate the images mirrored my intentions. I got The World and it meant the world to me. The Sun and Two of Swords. Powerful. Afterwards I had the best massage with Alicia. Lots of movement and pressure. When I came back to the hostel I went to the sauna and swam in the lake after sunset.

Volcano rumbling. So cool.

A private Family Constellations session with Sara. She told me repeatedly that the wood, possessions, crystals, oils and scents are what she's drawn to as my soul. I have to follow what excites me, comes easy to me, speaks to me. Not be afraid of people but find them in the right context, not at parties but in art workshops. Make deeper connections. Try to live authentically. Get into contact with inner child: provide the love, acceptance and protection I'm missing.

Voice activation with Stefan. Activating our chakras through humming. I loved pretending to be a band and layering instrument and voice loops, listening to each other. Improvising.

The Indian Nose hike was quite the adventure. The three of us got a tuk tuk up there before sunrise and actually had to walk a few times because we were too heavy for the vehicle. It was still dark when we started hiking and I had a pretty hard time keeping up. When we arrived at the view point I just wanted to rest but there were already so many people, talking loudly and taking photos. I was a bit disappointed and annoyed. After a while I decided to walk back down by myself which was pretty nice. My mood got better immediately and the view really was breathtaking. Walking through nature on my own was lovely. I enjoyed the coffee plants growing all around, the morning sun, the cows grazing on the fields.

The Western Astrology workshop with Echo where I learned more about the different planets and houses.

Waking up early. Hearing a very interesting bird song for the first time. A squirrel balancing on a washing line. Fluffy (the bitchy hostel cat) meowing outside the bathroom door. Cuddles and scratches... and then she accepted to be transported into my bed. She chose me! Proud moment.

Another day meeting friends (Chopper, Lily and Brian) at Vida Café. Speaking German with Chopper. A rainy afternoon at Eagle's Nest, happily untangling and rolling up Lily's yarn. Falling flat down on my ass on the slippery hill even though Brian had warned me before was definitely not a highlight but at least I didn't hurt myself.

Eating Sabis (Israeli pita bread filled with eggplant, falafel and hummus) in San Pedro with Omer and Nir.

Appreciating the fascinating consistency of a brownie when you're high.

Learning that layered music optimally stimulates the ADHD brain. No wonder I love mashups and loops so much. Bayonne's music and movies like Pitch Perfect just hit the right spot!

Standing in an office supply store. All the pens and paper. Buying an exercise book to use as a journal.

A Radiant Life podcast.

Working on my sketchbook and really getting creative. Just doing whatever feels right. Glueing in holo garlands and beer labels, drawing psychedelic mushrooms, hyping myself up with tarot wisdom. Geeking out over mexislang words, birth chart/astrology info, just doing quick sketches.

Participating in a Mayan fire ceremony.

Playing Game of Fives with the volunteers. Feeling included. connecting with Mali and Lukas from Graz.

Arija. Talking about her volunteering at Fungi Academy. Deciding to apply for a position there myself.

I found a dead bird in the yoga shala. There was a butterfly right next to it. Death and life. Transformation. I gave the bird a funeral in the lake. Put it on a big leaf and made a bed with beautiful flowers and twigs. I said a few words and put it down on the water.

Matching with the charismatic Austrian guy I met at a hostel party in Antigua. There was still no spark between us but I felt as if life had given me a second chance. Or maybe it was just to show me that he really wasn't meant for me and I had no reason to be sad about a missed connection.

Indian food in Panajachel. Delicious garlic cheese naan. Getting a few pens at the stationery shop. Writing many pages in my journal.

Looking out the window while driving through Chiapas during golden hour. Feeling the strong urge lo live in a valley, near a forest. With animals and a vegetable garden and a studio and an old house I can renovate. The landscape reminded me so much of home.

Returning to San Cris. Tasty tamales and my favourite vintage store.

When the earplugs start blending out the outside noise - a continuous, gradual deafness.

Waking up in the night bus during sunrise, overlooking a gorgeous valley with eagles hovering in the air.

Smelling the fresh strawberries in my salad. The smell of Do's shower gel lingering in the air. Late afternoon sun. A red cat strolled along the wall below the café. Taking in the view.

MicroEnormous immersion theatre - it gave me so many ideas and I loved wearing the trippy glasses! Prisms, lights, sense deprivation, smells, rituals, mezcal - a very celebratory mood. I need to connect to darkness more.

The Día de los Muertos festivities in Oaxaca. People in costumes, painted faces, musicians in black velvet, flowers and decorations everywhere.

A group video call with the fam. All agreeing on living together eventually? But I'm afraid I can't count on them at all. So I'll have to do my own thing. But Michi said something so nice about me. That I'm courageous and talented and will always land on my feet. And that I should just go for it and work as an artist. New idea: working part time as a teacher and finding another job that actually brings me joy for the rest of my time

The tapete at MUPO and other cool art. I'd forgotten how much I love museums.

Meeting Yeshua for dinner at an Indian restaurant. Getting drinks in Reforma, playing pool. Learning new words, watching people doing tricks on their motorcycles on the way.

Another Treat Yourself Sunday. I bought a tiny cup made from Oaxacan clay - a typical one with a face. And a white kimono top with manta rays. Got a café latte frío (only coffee, milk, ice cubes. No sugar. So grateful for everything unsweetened). And a massage. Then I took a taxi to book fair where I met Diego. We spent the evening together, drawing at a restaurant and drinking beer on my hostel's rooftop.

Writing on the right side in a new notebook.

Meeting Paulina at the crowded bakery with great bread and coffee. Bonding. A walk through Xochimilco, amazing weather and decorations, the graveyard. Honoring my feelings, taking myself out of the situation. Resting, getting food.

Finally seeing Meggy again!

My Catrina face paint - I thought I looked so gorgeous and made Paulina take photos of me!

Dante's Inferno at the historic Teatro Macedonio de Alcalá.

Live music at the bar next to our hostel where a girl tried to set me up with her friend. She made us all dance together and the bar owner unsuccessfully tried to teach me Cumbia.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Nightwing 79 Review

i said i would and i will. i did like this issue! not as striking and attention grabbing as 78, but i think this issue was meant to be a foundation one, laying out the groundwork for the future. overall, pretty good. also there wasn't enough bitewing. as promised, overly extensive metaphors and me reading too much into things under the cut

i know i've talked about this cover before, but this particular thing is oddly important to me, so i'll talk about it again

this is me, once again screaming about how artists put nightwing in traditionally feminine poses and how every time i see it i just get whiplash. i mean, true, the main reason why is because nightwing is a so often sexualized character, and putting him in these poses just increases the objectification, which is a goal that dc producers have. but there are very few popular male characters that do this. the only one i can think of off the top of my head is deadpool, but that was so obviously a critique and a way to make fun of the media industry. when they draw dick like this, they’re being serious. they’re putting him in appealing poses meant to show him off, and that’s something that’s traditionally only been done to women.

it's a very direct and very loud breaking of traditional gender roles in media, especially for a character as high-profile and historic as dick grayson. colour also plays a factor in this. the entire background is pink. i was absolutely shocked when i first saw it, when the teaser came out, because i cannot think of any comic book covers of male comic heroes this high-profile where pink is even just prevalent in the cover, let alone the majority of the cover. the pink does look beautiful: it offsets and highlights the black and blue of dick's suit gorgeously, but does it with more finesse than orange or red. but the fact that the stylistic choice was made to accent and draw this cover with aesthetic and beauty in mind, completely ignoring traditional hard-set gender rules in art, was a conscious choice and one i wholeheartedly support.

just another example of the sexualization i was talking about. i remember seeing harley quinn in this exact pose in suicide squad.

so far, taylor's been pretty dead-set on bringing alfred to the forefront of importance in this series. he wants people to know how much he loves alfred's character, and how much the butler meant to dick growing up. he was dick's father too. but what i adore is how taylor managed to stress alfred's importance in a way that didn't insult or belittle bruce.

this is one of the best bruce and dick interactions i've seen, and it's done in one simple interaction. in this, bruce is tough and harsh. he knocked dick down hard, but then he reached a hand down and helped pull dick back up. let me analyze their dialogue for a minute

on your feet: this is bruce telling dick to get up. he's trained dick, he knows what the younger boy is capable of, he knows his limits, and he knows what dick can do. this is bruce telling dick i know you're strong enough to get up, so get up and prove me right

are you just going to knock me down again?: surface-level, it looks like dick's complaining. he doesn't like bruce's rough training, and he's tired of bruce knocking him down. but look at his face in this. he's smiling up at bruce, knowledgeable and a little hopeful. he knows that bruce is doing this to help dick better himself, he's completely on board with the rough training, because they both know the rewards are incredible. also, he's teasing. he's bantering with bruce. there's an ease in that joking statement, one that belies affection and intimacy. they've only known each other for a little bit, but they're already slipping into a close familial relationship.

it depends on how fast you learn: this is bruce bantering back. this is bruce not being a stoic, unfeeling asshole. instead, he's shown with the dry humor that a good batman writer knows is a staple of the character. he's teasing dick, telling him he'll basically whoop his ass if dick doesn't learn fast enough. it's incentive for dick to train harder, while also being lighthearted enough to tell dick that believes in dick and doesn't want him to push himself too hard.

gosh i love the titans. also it looks like wally's staring at dick's ass.

this was cute. a prod at dick's silly and playful sense of humor, while not dumbing him down for the sake of a laugh. instead, he's joking about food, which is stuff everyone jokes about. this is the kind of stuff that'll actually make me laugh, instead of just making me vaguely uncomfortable.

bludhaven's almost always portrayed as a cesspool of a city. and to be honest, it really is. but this panel gives the city a meaningful history, while also giving us a reason for why dick moved there.

it talks of a time when people still thought they could beat the monsters. that if they fought hard enough, they could win the fight. it was a tentative hope that you could always overcome hardship.

dick's little "i like that it's still standing" shows how he still believes that, despite what the rest of the world thinks. despite everything that he's been through, dick is still tentatively an optimist, and believes he can fight the monsters of the world and win. it's a beautiful testament to his character, and i'm like that they added his signature element of hope back in. it used to be what he symbolized as robin, and despite his growth and character arc from robin to nightwing, this is one aspect of robin that i'm glad nightwing still has.

remember when i said "things that make me vaguely uncomfortable??" yeahhhh,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Shooketh Dick: A Sequel

(the expressions in this series are just,,,,on point)

this was an incredibly sweet and kindhearted thing for dick to do, but i found it kind of,,,,,,,,desperate? maybe that's just me, but let me explain.

dick's suddenly a billionaire, and he has entirely too much money that he knows what to do with. it's also alfred's money, what the man left to him, so dick forever links it with alfred. in addition to that, he's back and bludhaven and looking at it with "fresh" eyes. (at least, from a different point of view since he got shot in the head. then mind controlled.) he's desperate to do something with the money and he's desperate to help the people around him that so obviously needs up, so he comes up with an on-the-fly solution that's a little impractical and a little crazy, but it still helps and still does some good.

to me, dick seems a little lost. he hasn't completely found his balance yet, and he's trying to do things that will. he tries charity, because that's what bruce did and it's what he knows, even though he admitted that he always thought bruce could have done more as bruce wayne than batman.

they have a family group chat guys yall were right.

also, do i think that dick would ever actually get his wallet stolen?? no way in hell, he’d notice someone getting ready to pickpocket him a mile away. but i suppose it’s important to the Plot. 

okay this is getting interesting. first blockbuster, now maroni (+ the weird heart stealer guy). i can officially say that i am intruiged

this particular artistic quirk is shown a lot in this issue, and from this art team in general, but i feel like this panel is one of the best examples of it. it was stunning enough to take up a full page, and it’s well deserved.

the way they show dick moving is absolutely brilliant. as a reader, i like seeing these smaller versions of dick getting clearer and in more detail as they come closer to the screen. not only do they show depth in the picture beyond what a simple 3 dimensional piece of art does, it also shows the passage of time.

in addition, it showcases dick’s skill. dick spots these mobsters running after a group of petty thieves. he then, and follow me here, leaps off the roof of one building feet first, springboards backwards off the side of the adjacent building with his feet, gracefully continues his backflip, rights himself, shoots a line with perfect timing: just in time to soften his landing but not slow him down, execute said landing on top of a moving bus, keep running on the moving bus without missing a beat, shoot his grapple, use the grapple to swing, use the swing to build up momentum, then use the momentum to deliver a powerful blow to the mobsters. and he did all that fast enough to catch up with the mobsters, even though he was a ROOFTOP OVER. 

d a m n  s o n

this panel, the very first in the issue, is also another example of that art style, but a little more distinctive. i love the way they showed dick’s different costumes through the ages, along with him simply growing up. it’s a little heartbreaking, but a lot uplifting to see how far he’s come. thank god he got rid of the red. now all we need is the fingerstripes, and we’ll be golden

discowing my beloved. also i can’t clearly see discowing’s hair but it definitely looks like it’s pulled back. it looks like he put it in a ponytail. guys. guys. dick had a ponytail omg. 

he’s having a Hero Moment

are you talking about the city, dick, or are you talking about you? the kgbeast, the court, the joker. dick fell to each one of them, no matter how hard he fought. he won in the end, eventually and with his family’s help. but i think he’s feeling a little low, a little defeated right now. it’s almost like he needs a win, he needs to feel victorious, he needs to feel like he helped someone (hence the food and the hotel room), just because he needs to remember what it feels like.

these lines were supposed to resonate with you, and goddamn they did.

i looked at it from two ways. first, it’s the girl asking, begging nightwing not to hurt them. bludhaven doesn’t know dick the way gotham does, they’re still a little frightened of him. this child was brave enough to step in front of all of the other hurt and homeless kids and ask, to a strange man in a mask, if he was going to hurt them like the other men had. it’s heartbreaking, but commendable, and an echo of the city itself that dick’s decided to protect. they’re bloody and broken and terrified, but still gritty and brave enough to stare what they fear in the eye and ask it not to hurt them.

second, it’s dick seeing the question reflected in himself. recently, he got shot in the head and lost all his memories. while i think that the way ric reacted was a perfectly valid and human response to the situation, i think dick still regrets how callously and rudely he treated his family. then, he was manipulated by the court of owls, then he was brainwashed with a magic crystal by the joker. dick does have a guilt complex. it’s not a big as bruce’s, but it’s there. and right now, with this girl begging her not to hurt them, dick is probably thinking about all the times he hurt people, in control of his own actions or not, bc he “didn’t have a heart.” 

little ambitious don’t you think, dick?

also just look at the sunset colours loOK at the they could not make this any more obvious oh my godddddddddddddddddddddddd

in conclusion, i need more of her

[starryseo]

costume. | bang chan

this gif is so cute oml

pairing ↠ chan x gender neutral!reader

genre ↠ fluff!!

wc ↠ 1564

summary ↠ chan really likes couple’s costumes. 

warnings ↠ a tiiiny bit of swearing. woojin is in this fic bc i wrote it before the news; pls don’t read if you’re not comfortable doing so.

a/n ↠ hope this makes u smile!

"We should do a couple's costume," Chan suggested for the fifth - sixth? - time. "I saw a Robin Hood and Maid Marian costume earlier that we'd look so hot in. I'll even let you have first pick."

You groaned, ignoring him for the fifth, or sixth, time.

And then you groaned again, interrupting whatever it was he was just about to say.

"Once again, Chan, I would like to remind you that we're not a couple."

"That can be changed very quickly," he said, stopping his search through his cupboard to shoot you a smirk, "Y/n, would you do me the honour, make me the happiest guy in all of Korea, and go out with me? Please?"

You stopped scrolling on your phone, raising a brow to perfect the bored expression you were sending his way. "I'm positively swooning, how can anyone say no to that?" You fall back onto his bed with a huff, continuing to scroll on Instagram once more.

"Great! C'mon, babe, let's go get our costumes!" He slammed his cupboard shut, turning to pull you up and off his bed. "What do you want to be?"

"Single."

"Ha ha," he shoved your shoulders before pulling you closer again, "Seriously though?"

You placed your hands on his shoulders, grasping tightly to hold him together, because you knew what you had to say was going to make him crumble.

"I'm sorry, Chan, but I already have a costume."

Promptly after your big reveal, Chan had pushed you out of his room and muttered, "We're over." You were too busy laughing at his theatrics to stop any of that, your snickers increasing when you hear him sigh, scoff and sulk behind the locked door.

"Chan," you called, inhaling deeply to control your laughter, "C'mon, open up. Don't be a baby, baby. I can still help you find a costume!"

Silence.

Aside from your choked chuckles.

"Can you stop being a drama queen, man," you groaned, knocking on his door. "Chan, c'mon!"

Unsurprisingly, more silence.

"Alright, fine, I'll be Robin Hood, okay? You happy now?"

You thought that would bring him out of his blues, but he still wouldn't reply. You knocked again, much more softly, before calling his name.

"Just leave him," Woojin said, coming from the living room. "He'll be fine in, like, 5 minutes." He rolled his eyes, a teasing grin on his face though. "C'mon, the guys have set up Mario Kart."

You joined the rest of the boys as Woojin magically got Chan out of his room - in 3 minutes! - to join in on the fun.

He sat on the seat furthest away from you, shooting you a glare, so you knew he was still mad at you. You rolled your eyes at him, adoring the way he pouted and crossed his arms. He was over the top, yet endearing. A deadly combination.

Some time through playing games, you all decided to place bets on who would win, daring the losers to do random things. Seungmin dared Jisung to not speak for 20 minutes (which he failed after 7 minutes), Minho dared Hyunjin to take his shirt off (20 minutes later and he’s still blushing), and Felix dared Changbin to cuddle him for the rest of the day.

When Chan and Woojin were battling it out, Chan lost. Only by a split second, but all his demands for a rematch fell on deaf ears as Woojin cheered victoriously.

"I dare you to let me pick out your Halloween costume!"

"Fine," Chan huffed, sending a pointed look in your direction when Woojin mentioned the costume.

You grinned at him, but he turned away, his pout returning.

When Jeongin moved to get more snacks, you seized the opportunity to flank Chan's left side, immediately draping yourself on his shoulder.

"You done being a baby?" you teased, linking your arm with his. He tried pulling away, but stopped his futile attempts when you wrapped your other arm around his, too. Instead, he simply turned his face away, suddenly intent on watching the Minho v Felix round. "C'mon, Maid Marian, talk to me."

"Only if you tell me who you're going as."

"No can do, Channie," you sighed, "it's a surprise. You gotta wait til the party like everyone else."

"C'mon," he whined, "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Nope," you grinned, "Wooj already knows, I can't tell anybody else."

"Seriously?" he exclaimed, "That's so unfair, y/n, I wanna know!"

You shrugged your shoulders, pinching your fingers to pretend to zip up your lips.

"I hate you," Chan grumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"Love you too."

It was Halloween day. Finally. Costumes had been bought, decorations were hung and food was prepped, all tasty and delicious and begging to be eaten.

Just like you all had agreed, the ten of you were wearing the longest coats you could find to cover your costumes. Minho and Jisung had even gone the extra mile to put paper bags over their heads, probably - hopefully - to cover their makeup.

You drew numbers out of a conveniently-placed magician's hat, the numbers dictating the order of the costume reveal.

Hyunjin was first, in a beautiful Captain America suit. He even pulled out a fake shield - from inside the sofa? - to complete the look. Next was a mummy Seungmin: you have no idea how he managed to keep all the layers wrapped so well, but Seungmin was nothing if not insanely talented.

A vampire Jeongin - whose contacts made the youngster actually look pretty terrifying, especially since they glowed in the dark - was next. Then Minho who, upon shredding the paper bag, was revealed to be the Joker.

"You asshole!" Jisung had yelled, jumping from the sofa when Minho took off his jacket too. "We had a deal."

"Holy shit, you actually did it?" Minho laughed, much to everyone else's confusion.

Jisung, who was next anyway, harshly ripped off his own paper bag.

The long, golden locks were a nice touch, but you definitely loved the blue face paint drenching his face.

"You gotta take the jacket off too, man," Minho chuckled.

Jisung was vehemently opposed, shaking his head, but Hyunjin and Minho tackled him, ripping the cover to reveal Jisung in a flowing white dress.

"Isn't Cap supposed to be the good guy?" Jisung grumbled, crossing his arms as he glared at Hyunjin.

"Not anymore," Hyunjin smirked, tossing over Jisung's jacket, though the damage had been done.

Jisung made a very cute Smurfette.

Once everyone's laughter had died down - which took a very, very, long time, because one look at Jisung caused a giggling domino effect to erupt - Woojin revealed himself to be Cupid. He even had wings and a cute heart shaped bow and arrow set. Felix was the angel to Changbin's devil and they both pulled off the duality stunningly well.

You were next to go and you could see the excitement rolling off Chan in waves. He immediately sat up, cheeky grin plastered on his face as he raised his brows, desperately awaiting your big reveal.

Just to tease him, and he rolled his eyes when he caught on to your actions, you undid your jacket as slowly as possible.

Peter Pan.

The fun-loving, Captain-Hook-hating, youngster was who you decided to dress up as. You took out a hat from your jacket pocket to complete the look, twirling the sword that came with the costume around on your finger.

Whatever expression you thought you'd see on Chan's face, you definitely weren't expecting to see him that shocked and confused, his mouth dropping open slightly. You thought you'd see a teasing grin or him laughing, but not this.

"You asshole!" Chan imitated Jisung, turning to face Woojin. "You did this on purpose!"

"No idea what you mean," he let out airily, but by the smirk on his face, you knew he knew.

"Ooh, is Cupid playing matchmaker?" Minho taunted, "It's your turn, Channie!"

Chan huffed as he stood up, shooting Woojin a vicious glare, before facing you for the reveal. He looked nervous, cheeks tinted a light pink, and it was cute watching him bite his lips as he fumbled to open his jacket.

A green dress. You would have joined the others in laughing if you weren't 100 percent sure that dress belonged to a certain tinkering fairy.

Chan certainly did make a pretty Tinkerbell. His muscles were a bit much though in the tight dress, but you weren't exactly complaining about the view of those. 

"Best couple's costume award definitely goes to Chan and Y/n," Hyunjin grinned, shooting you a thumbs up.

"You're welcome!" Woojin hollered, laughing harder when Chan flipped him off.

"That's so unfair," Felix whined, "they didn't even plan that!"

As the boys argued over who would get what awards for the night, you turned to a still-pink-faced Chan.

"We're in a couple's costume," he smirked, "It all worked out in the end."

"Tink's just obsessed with Peter," you argued, "they're not a real couple."

"Just like us then, yeah?"

"Oh, definitely."

"Is Chan flirting with Y/n? Is that seriously all he's got? No wonder it's taken him this long to make a move."

Chan grabbed your hand, making a swift escape to the safe confines of his room.

If anyone asked what the two of you got up to after that, you were simply telling ghost stories. 

[awkwardbluefish]

A Roomate or Two

—

Summary: Jason isn’t happy with what they do with Tim. Especially after not what happened to him. I mean being tortured into a baby joker? Yeah that wouldn’t be fun.Not at all. So what if he has an extra person to look after? It should be fine.

Warnings: mentions of torture and panic attacks

A/n: @aloofwindbag inspired me with their magnificent drawing so enjoy!

—

Jason sees red when he sees Tim. He’s small, tiny really and that straight jacket? It engulfed him.

“Hey buddy,” Jason says and hauntingly sad green eyes meet his. The once blue eyes widen before the boy glances down, shuffles his feet.

“You don’t like me,” he whispers and Jason cringes.

Cause yeah, he didn’t like this kid. Before that is. When he was still fucked up by the Lazarus and he wasn’t right in the head. He still wasn’t right, didn’t think he’d ever be again but at least he had his goddamn head out of his ass now.

He coughs and shrugs, clicking at hinges and pulling off the hood. He hooks it under his arm and leans against the white wall behind it. “Eh that was in the past. You’re all right kid, better than Dickie, that’s for sure.”

He doesn’t miss the way Tim curls into himself at the name, well, nickname. Jason doesn’t narrow his eyes but it’s a damn close thing. What the hell did the golden boy do now? Well, he could take a guess.

Tim swallows and Jason eyes the stark white neck at the motion. Anger coils around his gut tight, just like a fuckin’ cobra. If Bruce has just ended that bastard, none of this would be happening. How many robins does he need to lose because he can’t break one rule that could save thousands?

“Bruce doesn’t think so,” comes the whisper and the trembling starts. His arm move under the fabric and he starts rocking.

“When does Bruce ever think?” Jason jokes. It falls to deaf ears. “Oi, replacement- what are you doing?! Stop that!”

Laughter spills from his chapped lips and Jason is rushing forward. The helmet clanks against white tiles as he shoves Tim to his chest. The boy trembles, green eyes wide as tears spill down his pale cheeks. His lips are stretched up into a tortured grin and Jason tugs the boy’s face into his shoulder.

He holds him and he holds him tight. The laughter echoes in the room, only stopping for a wet hiccup or two. Jason rocks them, hand fisted in a green hair. He feels sick, bile licking at the back of his throat. Tim doesn’t belong here.

And he’s going to get him fuckin’ out.

—

Jason has more nightmares and Tim notices. He tried so damn hard to keep them down, to kick them the fuck out of his head. That hadn’t work.

He should’ve known Tim wouldn’t sleep well. It’s should’ve been obvious, obvious like the sky is blue and waters wet. And yet now he’s tracking the little shit through Gotham, on the first night god damn it, keeping an eye out for a pipsqueak with sickly green hair.

It takes two fuckin’ hours and now he knows why Alfred is basically bold. All of his hair is going to go white and this point. He isn’t even twenty five yet dammit.

Jason pointedly makes noise as he walks into the alley. Tim flinches before relaxing as the cat bumps their head under his chin. Well shoot, that’s just cute ain’t it?

“Looks like I found two runaways,” He drawls and Tim peers up at him under long murky hair.

He ducks again, avoiding Jason’s eyes. He huffs and moves forward, plonking himself on his ass, on most likely pissed on ground, to be closer to the kid. The things he does for the little runt.

The black cat hisses at him, ears flattened and fur on end. “Shove it,” Jason tells it wisely just as Tim soothes the little kitten with soft whispers.

It’s quiet for a while but then again Jason wasn’t ever one for patience. “I know why you ran,” he informs the boy and Tim tenses, refusing to meet his eye, “and frankly it’s a load of bullshit.”

“I have nightmares of that fucker, not you Tim. Joker did this to me, to us and you are not responsible for it at all. I have nightmares, yeah I’m man enough to admit it and so does everyone. I just got to get the fuck over it.”

Jason’s had enough of this sappy bullshit so he heaved himself up, patting down his butt because it’s wet and it hasn’t rained at all today. He just hopes he didn’t sat in piss. That wouldn’t be fun.

“C’mon kid. It’s one in the morning but I’m craving pancakes so we’re freakin’ getting some.” He informs them and he sees Tim smile. It’s small but it’s genuine. It’s his own smile, not one that was forcefully carved onto his face. Jason decides to ignore the mushy feeling in his chest. Yep, no need for that.

He makes a move to stand, freezing when the kitten mewls loudly in protest, claws digging into white pants. Tim freezes while Jason makes a mental note to go shopping. Yeah, that might be a good idea.

“Are you and the feline coming or what?” He grumbles, smirking when the look of shock and restrained joy crosses the kids face.

“We’re keeping her?” He asks and of course the little nerd would already know the cats gender. Jason most likely wouldn’t of even checked.

“She’s fiesty,” he tells him, hooking an arm around the boys waist and pulling the two tight to his person. “I like it.”

—

Jason’s watching the two passed out on his worn out white couch when he gets the call. He should have been expecting it, because of course they would know.

He makes sure he’s away from the brats before he accepts it. He doesn’t want to wake them up, and he doesn’t want Tim to hear this. Because whatever goes down Jason knows he’s not going to like it, not one fuckin’ bit.

“Where is he.” Bruce demands as soon as he answers. Jason rolls his eyes, leaning against the fire escape and rolling a ciggie between his lips.

He sucks the cancer in, letting it out slowly. He can feel Bruce’s impatience over the phone. Good, he thinks, let the fucker wait for a bit.

“Well hello to you to,” He drawls out lazily, uncaringly. He would rather be watching the two strays sleeping, it was- dare he say it- nice watching them both relax. Ew, he’s gone soft. Gross.

“Where is he.” He growls again and Jason smirks, he likes making him angry. It’s the least he deserves.

“I haven’t a clue of who you’re talking about,” Jason informs him, eyeing the wonderful view. A brick wall right in front of his apartment, how lucky can a guy get?

“I’m not playing games Jason,” Bruce begins, voice low and growled. “Where is Tim?” Bruce apparently isn’t playing around, and isn’t that a bummer. Because Jason isn’t either.

“Why the fuck do you want to know?” He cuts in, fingers tightening around the railway. He doesn’t want to get rid of the disposable phone just yet. He needs to hear Bruce’s so called excuse.

Bruce sighs like he’s just a kid and doesn’t know what he is doing. Well fuck you, he’s an adult now. He can do whatever the duck he wants.

“Tim is under my care,” Jason doesn’t let him finish.

“And is that why you chucked him in Arkham? Some caretaker you are,” He sneers, nice and low. The cobra is back and this time it’s ready to go in for the kill.

“Tim went through a lot,” and here comes the bullshitting, “he needs help and Arkham can give him that.”

Jason barks out a laugh, loud in the night. “You’re one of the richest men alive! You could hire anyone to help him and yet you throw him in Arkham with the crazies and expect him to be a okay?!”

“I didn’t say that-“ Bruce is angry but Jason? He’s fucking pissed.

“Exactly! You didn’t say any of that when you should have! They had him in a stray jacket and locked up like he’s a killer! You aren’t helping him Bruce, you’re pushing him away in the worst damn way possible.”

There’s blaring silence at his yell and Jason grits his teeth. He drops the ciggie and crushes it with his foot, kicking it over the balcony after.

“I know,” Bruce finally says. It’s said quietly, in a low murmur. “I failed him, I failed both of you. This is all my fault.”

“Get over yourself Bruce,” Jason snaps, “this isn’t about you and your self deprecation shit. This is about Tim, and Tim only. When you finally get your arse out of your angsty crack then we might be able to talk. Might.”

The hangs up right after, physically shaking. He always had to make it about him huh? It’s always about his failures, his mistakes. What about the people he failed? He never truly thought about that.

He scruffs a hand over his face and drags it down. He needs to go on eBay or some shot to get some furniture and nerd stuff.

He throws the phone, watching in satisfaction as it smashes against brick wall before tumbling down. Have fun tracking that old man.

It’s warmer in the house which is nice. It doesn’t feel as lonely anymore. He goes back to the lounge, flipping onto his armchair with a huff.

A tail flickers and a yellow eye flares at him as Tim stirs at the sound. Jason snorts. “Yeah, yeah you little shit. I’ll keep it down.”

A yellow slitted eye glower at him a second longer before closing and Jason resists groaning. He’ll have to get shit for the damn cat too, dang it.

Maybe he can get Barbara to help with that. She could give him Bruce’s credit card and his information. Yeah, that’ll work.

—

“Why did you do that?” Jason asks quietly, desperately.

He holds the soaked boy to his chest as he wraps his hands in a white bandage. His fists are split and purple, painfully bruised.

Tim doesn’t answer and Jason sighs, tying the bandage. He buries his nose in green hair, taking in the scent of fresh coconut.

They’re sat in the bathroom, glass cracked and splintered around them. Tim is shaking, staring at a piece of glass with unseeing eyes.

Jason tears his gaze away, understanding and guilt knowing on his chest. It looks just like him, with the green hair and eyes. Tim’s blood is smeared on it, making a bloody grin. Tim doesn’t see himself when he looks in the mirror, he sees the joker.

“I got some left over black hair dye,” Jason says quietly and Tim just nods, eyes haunted and desperate. Jason holds him a little bit closer.

—

They cut his hair first.

It’s a mangled heap and it genuinely looks like a birds nest. Jason knows the brushing has too hurt, because seriously, how couldn’t it?

Tim doesn’t even flinch though. That doesn’t settle right with Jason so he apologises after every yank and after every tangle is cleared. Tim accepts it with a small amused smile but his eyes? They remained haunted and empty.

—

According to Glamour it’s a good thing Tim’s hair hasn’t been washed in a couple of days. Jason thinks otherwise but he keeps that to himself as he starts the process of dying. Heh.

First Jason lathers the dye in his hands, snickering at the sound it makes. Tim smiles slightly at him, a small twitch of the lips.

He applies the dye half an inch away from Tim’s scalp. He massages his locks and slowly made his way towards the ends of the locks. After a bit he goes back and cover the roots, smiling when Tim finally began to relax into his hands like putty.

At least he’s finally getting comfortable.

—

“Tim- Tim oh my god,” Jason is saying and the little nerd is just giggling at him. “Tim stop, stop look at this little shit!”

Tim lets out an hilarious snort that Jason would have loved to film but he’s too busy gaping at the prancing little shit in front of them.

She- that damn cat- was red! Red! “I let her on my couch, oh my god Tim I let her on my couch.”

Tim looses it, curling into himself as Babs, the newly named orange cat, climbs up his back and curls around his neck. A yellow eye peers into Jason’s soul and Jason swears the thing is smirking.

“Tim, Tim my couch is white. White.”

—

“Is he safe?” Is the first thing he hears when he answers the call.

Jason sighs into the receiver, adjusting the mobile to fit more comfortably against his ear. His hands were loaded with shopping bags. At least he’s taken his helmet off. Yes, yes he did go shopping as Red Hood. Fuck You, he does what he wants.

“That depends,” he says, heaving ten grocery bags onto the counter. He glances behind him, smiling when a soft snort reached his ears. “Do you consider me safe?”

“You’re better than half of the people in Gotham,” Barbara tells him, voice laced with anger and annoyance. Jason knows it’s not at him, it’s at this damn city. The damn world.

“You’re too sweet to me,” Jason informs her, ruffling through the bags and taking out the freezer stuff.

“I know, and I’ll continue to be if you take care of Tim.” Barbara says simply. There’s ruffling on the other end and he guesses she’s in bed.

He silent for a moment, shoving the meat and frozen peas away. “You know I will,” he finally says, “as long as you and Alfie come visit of course.”

“What about Dick?” She asks and Jason slams the freezer shut accidentally. “...I’m guessing that’s a no.”

He cringes as a warning meow and and a flick of a tail is directed at him over the couch. Yeah, he deserves that one.

“Of course it’s a fuckin’ no. He did nothing to stop Bruce from putting Tim in Arkham. Hell, he didn’t even go to find Tim with you guys on that night. He not getting near him in a 10 mile radius or I’m kicking his arse.” Jason curses and Barbara laughs slightly.

“Watch your language,” she teases and just like that the mood is lighter. Just a bit. “You got a kid in the house now.”

“Fuck you,” Jason wisely replies back, slotting the drinks into the fridge. He shuts the door quietly, well aware of the Brady yellow eyes aimed at the back of neck. “And for your information I have a kid and a cat in the house, so suck it.”

“Wait-,” Jason snickers at the sudden ruffling, placing the biscuits and chips into the cabinet. “You guys have a cat? Since when?”

“Since Tim ran away because he thought he was the reason for my nightmares. Found the brat in the alley with the stray. She was black Barbara, then she was red. I let her on my couch, my couch.”

Barbara is chuckling softly, clearly amused at Jason’s distress. “The next thing you know she’ll be going purple,” she teases and Jason scowls, folding up the bags and sticking them in the bottom draw.

“I was prepared this time. I got a blanket on the couch, nice try little fucker.” He declares proudly, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of the couch. Babs stares at him before curling into Tim’s chest happily.

“Please tell me you didn’t call it little fucker.” Barbara says despairingly and Jason smirks.

“Nope!” He sings.

“What’d you call it then?” She asks and Jason grins. She’s just gonna have to wait.

“You’re gonna have to wait my dear,” he teases and Barbara groans, “you shall know when you come visit!”

She laughs at that and Jason can imagine her shaking her head. “You tease, okay then. You’ll have the money by tomorrow morning so try to get everything sorted out then, yeah?”

“Yes ma’am,” Jason murmurs, smiling softly. Oh god, he’s gone soft. How gross.

—

“Tim, tim please stop! It’s just lightning, he’s not here!” Jason says desperately, holding Tim wrists to stop him from scratching at himself.

Tim just screams, tears streaming down his pale cheeks, eyes screwed up and chin trembling. Spit bubbles past his lips when he sobs out a hiccup, fighting desperately against his memories.

Jason doesn’t know what to do so he holds him tight in his arms. His forearms are soon bleeding, scratched at by nails that are far too long and dirty. It stings but he doesn’t complain, just holding tight.

Babs watch them warily from the couch, tail flickering in concern as Jason begins rocking them back and forth. Thunder clashes and Tim screams again, sobbing harder and shaking his head.

“It’s just thunder,” Jason reassures, rocking them softly. “It just thunder. You’re okay Timmy, you’re with me and Babs. You’re home,” he whispers.

Tim doesn’t seem to hear him but Jason repeats it like a mantra. The storm rages on for another four hours. Tim only slackens into his arms after three.

Neither of them sleep that night.

—

“I’m sorry,” Tim says as daylight flickers in through the glass door of the fire escape.

Jason shakes his head, running a hand through his new raven and greasy locks. “You never have to apologise for being scared. Never. Just remembered you’re safe here, no one will ever hurt you here.”

The boy nods and Jason holds him tighter, both watching as the shadows are chased to the corners of the apartment. Babs craws into Tim’s lap and licks at his chin.

“You’re home.” Jason repeats and this time Tim hears it. He nods.

—

“You still wanna be a vigilante?” Jason asks, flipping an egg.

Tim nods fiercely and strong and Jason sighs in amusement. He plates the egg on some toast and slides it across the bench to Tim.

“I do. I won’t kill, I won’t. Not- not again.” He murmurs and Jason nods, reaching over to ruffle his raven locks before going over to turn off the stove. He bats Babs away from the pan as he does.

“I don’t expect you to,” Jason says and then, “do you have a name?”

“Outlast.”

[it-goes-both-ways]

Over the last few years I've been posting more and more of my actual views, which I'm not exactly ashamed of but realise they're not so much unpopular opinions as downright rejected ones. I pretty much know why I have them, I'm aware of my biases and make every effort to restrict them to words, not allowing them to affect my relationships or treatment of others, restricting the hyperbole and rants to this blog and my long suffering partner. Unfortunately I seem to attract the worst kind of women in real life, which is not at all helping. Every time I reveal something I worry about being rejected, told I'm a monster, a failure, a disgrace, an embarrassment, but each and every time I've gotten nothing but acceptance. I am greatly honoured by your support thus far, for tolerating my increasingly frustrated outbursts and hope I won't push you away with this, but it's been all consuming for almost my whole life, and part of “cleaning up my room” is putting all that baggage out there to be scrutinised and hopefully understood, sometimes all that is needed is a willing ear, suppression only breeding resentment and isolation.

All the bullshit feminism has caused, from protesting the male pill and shutting down shared parenting efforts to the Duluth model and erasing men who are raped by women or by counting them under "violence against women" stats to boost the female victim numbers. Mary Koss, the progenitor of the 1 in 5/4/3/-69/ π r2 stat claiming that it's "inappropriate" to consider male victims of forceful envelopment by women as they are merely ambivalent about their own desires. Lobbying for laws that regard mutually drunk sexual encounters as automatically rape by men, underage consensually sexually active couples (even if they're months away from age of consent or the girl is older) as child rape on the part of the boy, guilty until proven innocent, accusation is the evidence, kangaroo courts, sentencing discounts on top of the preexisting bias which causes a 63% disparity and difference in treatment to the point where if you take every step of the justice system into account the crime rate is pretty damned even (with women often using proxy violence so they have plausible deniability, and avoid responsibility/physical risk). Treating women as the definitive victims of prostitution no matter which side of the transaction they're on. Banning men from charity fundraising events, transpeople only allowed if they provide evidence that they are biologically female. Having the NHS class women choosing to have genital piercings as being victims of female genital mutilation, while male genital mutilation performed at birth is not so much as frowned upon let alone illegal by any single country on the entire twatting planet. In fact you can buy some baby foreskins if you want to, or rub them on your face, the target market being protected from the very process that brought them their anti-ageing face cream, complaining that it costs more than men's moisturiser.

The innate gynocentrism of humanity has always led to women being their top priority, now even above children, it tries to pander, and acquiesce to their every demand while being told it hates them. The cases like the woman who filmed herself raping her own baby and getting the oh so harsh sentence of community bloody service and house arrest. The "poor, neglected" woman whose husband had become distant from her (wonder why) so she raped her son's friend, whose punishment was being banned from his school, which she considered too harsh as she missed her son's graduation. An audience of hundreds of normal regular women cheering and celebrating a man being drugged by his wife, who then cut off his penis and threw it in the "garbage disposal" permanently destroying it, just for asking for a divorce (can't think why he'd want to leave), despite no further context it was declared "fabulous" to the ecstatic jubilation of the empathetic sex. There's the idea that men commit the vast majority of rapes while calling female teachers "seducing" their students mere trysts, shameful liaisons that do not deserve prison, female prison guards committing the overwhelming majority of rape of male children and youths in juvenile detention (89%), among other women who rape men and boys (my own mother being one of them), this in addition to the rape rate among female prisoners being 3 times that of male ones, not a single damned thing is done about the propagation of the bullshit narrative. Somehow the fact that female rapists tend to target children is irrelevant because male ones target adult women, and "you don't see women going around raping adult men" (even though the stats are still around 50/50 because it's a human problem, unless those women are exhibiting toxic masculinity or something). There's the 10,000 men and boys slaughtered in their schools by Boko Haram while girls were released and allowed to go home, the boys being set on fire, their throats slit, or shot if trying to escape, no one giving the slightest hint of the merest ghost of a toss, until they realised that they weren't getting the attention they craved so they kidnapped girls, causing an international outcry and the media/celebrities changing their motivation from "eradicate western education" to "oppress women and stop them getting an education". There's the refusal by both the left and the right to look beyond the plight of women when it comes to Islam, they not only ignore the laws which oppress men, but declare those men the "real" misogynist patriarchal oppressors and innately sociopathic rapists. There's the refusal to recognise that women are a part of society and have far more influence than anyone wants to admit. There's Muslim men's obligation towards women, the segregation in Saudi where they have many public places from which men are banned unless accompanied by a female family member, where they'll be arrested for accompanying a woman to whom he is not related while the woman is merely sent home, where men face potentially fatal consequences for the same "crimes". Where homeless boys in Pakistan are pretty much guaranteed to be repeatedly raped day after day.

Then in my own life, being 6 or 7 years old, my sister 8 or 9 and told to stay put as our Reliant Robin went up in flames, having to be pulled out by a stranger, a man, because we were more afraid of disobeying than of burning to death, mother not even sparing us a glance as she grieved the loss of her car, later keeping it in the garden like some sort of shrine. Around the same year, at an LRP event (Lorien Trust's The Gathering), being left in the tent alone late at night and going to look for her, finding her on top of an unconscious man, she at least picked up on the fact that I was revelling in her severe hangover the next morning. Sneaking downstairs one night to see the aftermath of one of her "encounters", the man was broken, so started my extreme protectiveness of men and distrust of women, to the point of being called a gender traitor for the first time at around 7 years old by my 60+ year old year 1 teacher (who also wouldn't allow me to use left handed scissors or to write left handed, unwittingly making me ambidextrous. Being left with a violent babysitter who made me sleep under the table, or on the floor beside her bed (despite having 4 bloody beds), who wouldn't let me eat since burning the toast, beat me for asking for a glass of water and wouldn't even allow me to drink out of the tap, she once threw me in a wheely bin and poured dishwater over me, mother was in the garden just a few doors down, yet did nothing. She’d always try and get her boyfriends to beat us but they always just laughed it off (they’d put up with abuse themselves but never lasted long after she started bringing us into it), one in particular was into BDSM and later got mother a job as a dominatrix (she was disappointed by our complete lack of surprise), and even he had to draw the line at demonstrating how sexual intercourse works to his girlfriend’s 6 and 8 year old daughters.

My sister and I as little more than toddlers, mother putting our onesies on backwards so we couldn't take them off, having to go to the loo with them still on. Having the door handles put on upside down so that we couldn't reach up enough to open it to get to the loo so we ended up pissing ourselves. Having a daily diet of four slices of bread and the cheapest of generic vegetable spread as we weren't allowed mother's butter, being starved as punishment or just because she felt like it (having won custody of us only to spite dad), leading to malabsorption and osteoarthritis at the grand old age of twenty bloody six (3 years ago now), once a week we got an actual meal. Being around 8 or 9, visiting my auntie who was in hospital after having a stroke, having already had MS she was left paralysed, just 23 years old, granddad put together a system for her to speak by grouping letters and having her blink once for the stated grouping or letter or twice for basically undo. I gave her my only teddy which I carried everywhere, a stuffed donkey I got from Spain, she kept it. Staying in her house, continuing my habit of accidentally setting fire to the toaster, being left alone most of the night and going to look for mother in the village pub, finding her in one of her drinking competitions, walking in and vagblocking her, much to her frustration and anger. Being treated like a replacement husband, even trying to talk me into having a sex change despite only mild dysphoria, which was later greatly lessened by having an implant which stopped periods, eliminating most of the feeling of wrong (most cases of sex change regret are people who were abused, either treated like shit for their biological sex, treated as if they are opposite sex, or sexual abuse). Hearing about how the only way she'd get any when she was with dad was when he was asleep. Why did he end up dying a slow, agonising death while she gets to carry on regardless? Asking me about who I liked, later discovering exactly why she wanted to know, a man I care about was raped because I didn’t pick up on her ulterior motives. Having mother and her friends try to teach me to manipulate men, get them to pay for me, trying to turn me into a gold digger, only making me hate them even more. Coming of age (16), no longer eligible for child benefit, mother having been visiting friends more and more often until she didn't come back, only finding out that she'd been gradually moving out when we got the eviction order.

I'd been training myself to eventually join the army from the age of 5, once when I was 6 mother had asked me to go to the supermarket to get a bag of potatoes, she usually got a 20kg sack, must have taken me an hour to get it home, a man helping me carry it some of the way. When I finally enlisted I had to stop taking codeine for the malabsorption, it wasn't as much of a problem if I was eating every day (I usually forget as my body had been conditioned by neglect, not even bothering to remind me to eat any more), my hips had always made crunching and cracking sounds when I move, but as my body adjusted to the lack of codiene the pain became unbearable, upon being diagnosed with osteoarthritis I had to give up any hope of ever being a soldier, I've lost my purpose, and have nothing to replace it with, couldn't even work a whole shift when I got a factory job, humiliating, I'd informed the woman of my condition and she'd assured me that it was just a machinist job. It wasn't. It was everything you shouldn't do if you have any sort of hip problems. I'd never felt such agony and I'd fractured my bloody skull (at an LRP event). The woman was such a nasty bitch about it, she went from compassionate and understanding to mocking me for being upset that I was so damned useless now. I offered to forfeit my pay but her colleague, who also had arthritis and could no longer work the floor, was obviously far more genuinely empathetic than the woman, my brief boss was also sympathetic and even paid for a taxi to take me home after I refused an ambulance. The pain didn't subside for days.

I've never had a female friend who hasn't betrayed me, my "best friend" in school found it hilarious to punch me in the back in the middle of class, causing me to yell inadvertently as the air was knocked out of me. In year 8 the other kids stepped up their game and went from throwing stones to a house brick, when I got back to school she asked where the stitches were, just so she could punch me and reopen the wound. I was never allowed to retaliate, it would always be me who would be threatened with expulsion even if I only snapped after years of beatings which everyone knew was happening. Every birthday the other kids would falsely accuse me of something so I'd have to spend break times stood outside the headmaster's office, the equivalent of the stocks. Whether it was asperger's making me so unlikeable or if I genuinely am just a massive thundercunt, I never found out what I did to provoke them. Every time I put my trust in a woman it gets thrown in my face. My neighbour decided she was my best friend for life and would call at all hours of the day and night to get me to pick up her bloody methadone twice a bloody week, go to the chippy at 11 o'bloody clock at night, she's always trying to get me to take the pills she buys off a disabled neighbour. There are three things I refuse to take, hormones, anti-depressants, and sleeping tablets and she's always trying to get me to take them. The last straw was when her husband, who I got on very well with and whom she abused constantly, died, I told her to be careful what she wished for. When I finally called her out on using me she leapt immediately to the "after all I've done for you" bollocks.

Time after bloody time it's the same damned story, even regular everyday normal women will talk about things that would get a man arrested or at least publicly lambasted, that erections equal consent, that MGM is not at all a violation of the right to bodily autonomy, that it's absolutely fine and dandy to hit your male partner only to call the police if he defends himself, that female paedophiles shouldn't be punished because boys always want sex no matter what age they are but girls mature younger, right the way back to "We should have the vote but not have to pay with our lives as men had to in their millions while we shamed men and even underage boys into doing the same". What terrified me as a child was women's ability to completely turn off their empathy, the "woman scorned" is seen as karmic justice, there are people defending even the most brutal crimes:  assault, murder, rape, mutilation, over something as minor as rejection, or an accidental drive by fart, or just the crime of being a man who wanted a divorce. Empathetic sex my absolute arse.

A fellow MRA publicly humiliated Adam on a livestream when we went to the men's day march and conference, we were staying in an air B&B, Adam and Will Styles still riding the high of giving their first speeches, only for the woman to dredge up shit that was no one's bloody business and ruin the whole mood for no bloody reason, she also attacked 6oodfella on one of the hangouts. Another one was giving private information, with a vicious twist, poisoning the community against one of our group, Paul Elam didn't want to get involved and Janice Fiamengo immediately cut ties, treating him like a bloody criminal, what the hell did the woman say to her? I could see the Woolly Bumblebee thing coming a mile off, I worry whenever youtubers I like get girlfriends because they seem to either completely change or disappear, like Spino and Bread and Circuses respectively. I'm suspicious of female MRAs, I don't want to be but often even the sane ones are just tradcons. If it weren't for the Honeybadgers and you lot I'd have no hope at all.

The constant stream of "toxic masculinity", oppression, patriarchy, of women complaining that their air conditioned (which is also bloody sexist somehow), seated jobs at a till are paid less than the men (and women but they're not going to mention that) carrying heavy boxes, driving forklifts, working in a cold warehouse, and risking serious injury or death infinitely more than they ever will. The selfishness, solipsism, and sociopathy is too much. Throughout history women have never cared about men aside from ones they have a bond with, have never appreciated a damned thing men have done yet they demand that men prioritise them. Why should they?

I’ve seen and experienced the worst examples of female nature in action, “toxic femininity” if you will, and the difference in reaction to it, never being believed as a child no matter how many times I begged other family members and even strangers to please let me live with them instead, I’ll sleep in a tent, look I brought it with me. Pathetic, but you’d have thought someone would have cottoned on. I'm not going down the anti-women route as my sister has, given her own treatment of her partners and her own admission, she’s not so much pro male as anti-female, but it’s increasingly difficult not to resent them even if everything has a biological explanation. I still defend women if the facts bear it out, even if I don’t necessarily agree on a personal level, reals over feels, the people I agree with most also being female has definitely helped me not fall over the edge, one of whom feels very much as I do to the point where she doesn’t consider herself to be a woman due to her own observations and experiences. But the longer this goes on, the more laws are changed, media is poisoned, speech is suppressed, how the hell do I stop myself from just giving up entirely? How on earth can I stop myself from becoming an all out misogynist? Because it is women, not just feminists. It’s female nature being allowed to go unchecked, even when the same happens with male nature women are still prioritised. There are exceptions on both sides but it’s not enough to change the overall trend. There’s never been a balance, and because of human nature there never will be, which is where the problem lies. I know there’s no hope, that it’s utterly futile, completely pointless, and it’s driving me more towards extremism. I completely understand why we’ve lost so many MRAs to suicide. But I’m still going, even if the only way to make even the slightest change is to appeal to female self interest I’ll still do it. Everything I’ve been passionate about throughout my life is a pointless endeavour, I can’t stop myself from caring or change my fundamental character, it’s a downward spiral and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it.

[happyk44]

“Bruce, he broke himself for you. He changed himself for you! When are you going to suck it up and tell him that you fucking give a shit about him outside of Robin?” Jason pointed an angry finger at him. “I’m tired of this. I’m tired of Damian trying to seek your approval by hurting himself because it’s the only thing he knows how to do. You always said you want better for us, better for him, and yet-”

Jason cut himself off, shaking. Finally he found his voice again, his nerve. “And yet you do nothing to fix him. You just rode in on Dick’s coattails and pretended like he was your masterpiece. He’s not. He’s Dick’s. And if you want him to stop being reckless, then maybe remember this. The League told him he had to be the best and forced him to take risks, do things that could kill him, and praised him for doing those things.

“He’s not doing it because he’s stupid. He doesn’t do it around Dick because he listens to Dick more, but because Dick’s made it clear that’s not how to gain his approval. He’s doing it because that what he knows to get someone to tell him he did a good job and that’s all he fucking wants from you. So get over yourself and fucking tell him that, instead of shouting at him about the mistakes he made and then telling him he did good on the times he does stupid shit and doesn’t break his arm.”

As he stalked away he wasn’t expecting Bruce to whirl around and catch him by the arm. This wasn’t their first fight, especially not about Damian, and whenever Jason walked off, Bruce let him.

“You don’t think I’ve tried,” he growled, grip tightening on Jason’s arm. “You don’t think I didn’t figure that out? He doesn’t listen-”

Jason swung around, wrenched his arm out of Bruce’s grip and shoved him back. “Fuck off, Bruce. He listens. He listens to everyone. Me, Dick, Cass, fucking replacement. He listens. He does what you tell him to do. He pays attention. And he makes stupid mistakes because he thinks he’s right, because that’s what the League drilled into his head.”

Gesturing widlly, his hands balled up into fists so tight his fingers were numbing over, he snapped, “You treat him like they did. You feed him. You put clothes on his back, a roof over his head. And then shove him out into a bad bad world, tell him to run free and still somehow keep him contained because you don’t trust him-”

“He doesn’t trust me!” Bruce shouted back. “If he did, he wouldn’t question-”

“SHUT UP!” Jason yelled, about ten seconds from knocking Bruce a new one. “You don’t give him a reason to trust you! He doesn’t understand you! You tell him that the League was bad, the way they used him was bad and then treat him the exact same way! HE’D DIE FOR YOU AND YOU DON’T CARE.”

Bruce froze, his whole body stilling as Jason’s words echoed through the Cave.

Jason drew back, panting. He rubbed his jaw. “Bruce, you fucking need to get it through your head. Damian wants you to love him. He wants you to treat him like you treat Dick and Tim and Cass.” Like you used to treat me. “But you don’t and that makes him think he’s doing something wrong so he goes back to what he knows. Do a reckless thing, survive and it doesn’t matter what bones you broke, how many times you were stabbed, how close you are to actually dying, someone at the end of it is going to tell you how proud they are of you.

“And that’s what you do. You send mixed messages. You shout at him that he fucked up, that he shouldn’t have broken his arm, his leg, his fucking collarbone, like you suddenly remembered he’s a kid, and then turn around and tell him how glad you are that he got the bad guy anyway. He thinks this is what you want from him, Bruce. And if you actually fucking knew that, you wouldn’t be standing here telling me that I’m wrong. And Damian wouldn’t be in bed trying to figure out the best way to continue training without breaking his arm even further.”

Jason grabbed his jacket off the control panel and slung it over his shoulder. “Make up your mind. Be a dad to him or let him go do his own shit without you. Because I’m tired of watching him break himself for someone who hasn’t even told him that he loves him yet.”

--

Damian tried to angle his arm in the sling just enough so that he could flick to the next page of his book. A knock at his door caught his attention before he could. He squeezed his eyes shut, wished his arm wasn’t broken so he could pinch the bridge of his nose, and snapped, “Pennyworth, for the last time, I’m fine. I don’t need anymore-” The door eased open and he stopped. He closed his book around his thumb and sat up. “Father.”

Father stood in his doorway, eyes unreadable, just like Mother’s. It was always baffling how they could be so similiar and yet so different.

“Can I come in?”

Damian shrugged. “You already opened the door,” he muttered, looking down to the colouful cover of his book. He wasn’t really in the mood to be shouted at.

Father settled down on the edge of the bed, back to Damian, and Damian relaxed. Good. Whenever Father did this, it meant he was going to say something emotional, not something cruel.

He rarely, if ever, looked Damian in the eye when he was going to say something along the lines of “I’m proud of you”. That was one of the differences with Mother.

“Damian, I don’t want you to do that again,” he said quietly. And Damian frowned.

“What?”

“Next time, I don’t want you risking yourself like that again.”

Damian scowled. “He was going to get away! Everyone else was occupied. Was I just supposed to let him run free and go reform his gang again?”

Father shifted, just enough so Damian could see the side of his face, framed annoyingly well in the low light. “Damian, you could’ve called for support or-”

“I don’t need support. I can fight one pathetic excuse for a mobster on my own and-”

“You got shot!”

“-I’ve done it before.” Damian narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t hear you complain the last time I did it. And if you’re going to berate me about this again, wait until Pennyworth pumps me full of drugs. I don’t need to be screamed at when my body is already doing that.” He reopened his book and steadied his eyes on the first line.

He read nothing. The words wouldn’t process. 

Father frowned, his arms tensing as his fingers gripped at Damain’s sheet. “If you know you’re going to get hurt, then why-”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” Damian snapped, his book falling shut again. “If doesn’t matter so long as the plan succeeds, so long as I succeed. Which I did. He’s in custody.”

“And you’re in bed with a broken arm, recovering from two bullet wounds.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I could say the same for you on a number of occassions, Father. Do not be a hypocrite.”

“You’re a child. It’s different.”

His fingers tightened on the edge of his book. “I believe I made my stance clear so if you’re going to just complain about me, go do it with Drake.”

Father didn’t leave, just stared at him with those stupid unreadable eyes and a thin lipped grimace. Finally, he shifted around enough that his thigh was half pulled up onto the bed and he could face Damian fully. “You look like your mother.”

Damian stilled. Then scoffed. “Impossible. She created me to be you.”

The dig was clear.

This is your fault.

He felt childishly pleased with the quick scance of pain that blurred through Father’s eyes and then annoyed when it vanished too quickly.

“Maybe,” Father said at last. He pushed back Damian’s hair. “But you still look like her.”

“What exactly is your point?” He cocked his head. “Is this your way of telling me you want me to be a girl?”

Now Father looked offended. “Damian-”

“Because I’m quite pleased with being a boy and you said you had no issues with it when Mother dropped me off here the first time.” He looked back at his book, reopening it, determined to ignore Father and read. “She cares too much for me to be left alone with an imbecile not caught up on gender.”

Father licked his lips, frowning low. “She’s told you that?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Of course. She tells me she cares for me all the time. Every letter, every accidental meeting, she wants me to remember that. I think she fears I’m forgetting my roots.” Absentmindedly he rubbed his sling-casted arm against his abdomen. How could he though?

Father rubbed his thigh. “Damian-”

Damian squeezed his eyes shut. “Father, I’m not in the mood to discuss my mother. Please come back when I’m drugged and won’t remember it.”

Sighing deeply, Father rose to his feet, unsteadily bouncing on the heels. He was acting like Grayson.

Or perhaps, it was that Grayson acted like him.

Damian had never seen his father so out of sorts before. Tired? Sure. Exasperated? Of course. Angry? Definitely. Concerned? It was his default face when it came to any of them.

Uncomfortably awkwardly nervous?

No.

“Damian,” he started again, turning to face Damian. He cleared his throat.

“Just spit it out already!” Damian huffed. “You’re beginning to annoy me and broken arm or not, I will shove you out of this room, if I must.”

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m just. I’m trying to let you know that I... that I care about you, Damian.”

“I know that already! You say it every time I hurt myself.” He coughed low and Father’s deep timbre fell out of his mouth. “Damian, I just don’t want you to get hurt again. Despite what you may think, I care about you and caring means I can’t take it when you’re injured. Even so, I’m happy that you got the insert-madman-of-choice but please do not do this again.” He gestured loosely with his good arm. “It’s a pattern at this point. And you already said it earlier.” He pulled his book back into his view and looked back at it. “You don’t need to say it again.”

Father stared at him. “Oh.” His voice felt faint. “Well alright then.” He cleared his throat. “Um-” He looked around the room, like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

Leave, Damian thought. Just go.

He didn’t.

He settled down on the edge of the bed again all the way at the edge to the point where Damian couldn’t even graze him with his foot.

“My parents told me that they cared for me all the time,” he said. Damian frowned. What? “And I said it back all the time. And I said it on my own without prompting. And then they died and I was scared.”

“Okay?” Damian tried to remember what Grayson and Colin and Brown said about empathy. “I’m... sorry?”

Father shook his head, his back tensing. “I was scared of telling people I loved them because it felt like a promise to stay. And they didn’t. So I stopped.”

Damian closed hsi eyes, feeling exhausted. “I don’t really understand-”

“I love you, Damian.” Father stood to face. “You do know that?”

It was on the tip of Damian’s tongue. Of course, he knew. How could Father be so ridiculous to think that Damian wasn’t aware he cared.

But the lie wouldn’t fall.

He swallowed it and shook his head. “No. I was not aware.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve never said it. And you’re not like... like Drake or Todd. You’ve never made it clear.”

“I’m sorry,” Father said. He walked over to Damian side and pulled himself onto the bed, his thigh pressed warmly against Damian’s side. “I should’ve done better with you.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” 

Damian shook his head. “Love is useless. Mother loves you but that means nothing. She won’t stay with you. She won’t stay with me. Grayson loves me but he still left me when you came back.”

“And my mother told me she loved me and she died.” Father patted Damian’s knee. “Just because someone leaves, doesn’t mean they care about you any less.”

“I know that,” Damian snapped. “It’s just pointless to echo it if you’re going to.”

Father nodded slowly. Damian didn’t like the look in his eyes. This was going to turn into a thing, into a talk.

Damian hated Father’s talks.

Finally Father leaned back and eyed him. “Why did you think I didn’t love you?”

He looked at Father. No lies, he thought. “You told me. After you came back. Ivy’s poison. It made people reveal truths uncontrollably. You got hit with it and like all the others, when it faded you forgot what you said to me. And I said you didn’t say anything to me, which was a lie.” Damian cast his eyes down. “You said you couldn’t love a monster. I accepted that. I moved on.”

“Damian-”

“You said you only took me in because I was blood. I already knew this. You said you took me back because you thought I’d kill Grayson. Because you wanted to monitor me. Because you didn’t trust me. I accepted it.” He rubbed his thumb over the expanse of the book’s cover. “Why would I assume anything had changed?”

“I didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter. It was your truth. Even if it was old.” He bit his lip. “You knew I was alive and let me stay with the League after Mother took me back. You didn’t really care until Grayson fixed me and even then it wasn’t enough for you.” He shrugged. “I assumed nothing would be.

“But then you brought me back and I thought maybe things had changed. And then I realized it was a window of opportunity, not anything real. If the same thing had happened with anyone else, if it’d happened with Todd, you would have done it as well. There wouldn’t have been hesitation.”

“I didn’t hesitate,” Father cut in. “I wanted you back.”

“So did Grandfather.” Damian licked his lips. “I know what I am, Father. You don’t need to pretend.”

“I’m not pretending anything, Damian.” He leaned over and kissed the top of Damian’s head. “Don’t ever think I am. I love you so much.” He brushed back Damian’s hair. “When Jason died, I was devastated. When you died, I was destroyed. And then I got him back and I got you back and everything was different but it felt better.” He stroked the side of Damian’s face softly. “And then I heard the gunshots last night and I couldn’t find you among the crowd and I panicked. Because I can’t lose you again.”

Damian frowned. “What did you do?”

“A lot of stupid things,” Father admitted quietly and the image of a dozen broken bodies paving the way to Damian flooded back to Damain’s mind. Cain had been with him when they’d grabbed Damian after he’d finished with the mobster.

He’d assumed...

He’d assumed they were her fault. It was characteristic of her, when she was concerned about the others, to hurt a little more than need be, to fall back into old patterns.

He’d never considered that it might’ve been Father.

“I thought that was Cain.”

“Yes, I realize that. And some were. Most of them...” Father closed his eyes. “I’m not losing my son a second time. It was miserable when I lost him the first time.”

Damian shivered.

It was like when Grayson laughed and slung his arm around Damian’s shoulders and whispered in his ear, “This is why I love you, Damian” after some scathing remark Damian had uttered about the clown at the fair.

And Damian didn’t understand it.

He still didn’t understand it.

But he laid his book down on his lap and grabbed Father’s hand with his good one. “I’ll try to do better. Next time.”

Father nodded. “Thank you.” He slid off the bed to his feet and leaned over, kissing the top of Damian’s head, hands cupped warm around Damian’s cheeks. It was a weird gesture but Damian had seen it before. Other parents. Other children.

Other families.

He relaxed into and almost missed the comfort of being held as Father stepped away.

“I was wrong, by the way,” Father said, stilling at the doorway. “Back then. I made a mistake not seeing you as you as are.” He leaned agains the door and glance back at Damian. “I'm sorry.”

Damian shook his head. “It’s fine. I was a monster, I know that.”

“You were a child. A better man would’ve recognized that.” Father ran his finger over the wood. “And a better man did. And I’m grateful for that. I can’t imagine not having you in my life, Damian. And I can’t think of what would’ve happen to you if you’d stayed with the League. When I do, I..." He swallowed thickly. “I regret letting them keep you in the first place. The things I could’ve prevented if I told Talia, she couldn’t take you back.”

Damian thought about the scar that stretched from his abdomen to the top of his shoulder. The darkness of it against the rest of his skin. The way Grayson reacted so poorly to it.

The way Father looked at it the first time Damian changed in the Cave.

How he twitched when Damian told him how he got it in the years after the first time they’d met.

Devastation, Damian realized.

That was what it was in his eyes that night.

Damian’s finger brushed over the spot where it started and shook his head. “I’m here now. That’s what matters.”

Father smiled. “Good point.”

AO3 || Commission Info || Tip the writer!

[10kimmy10-blog]

In this entry, I will be focusing on the critical questions: What central narrative(s) does this artifact tell through its rhetorical elements? In doing so, what values does it promote and ignore (who does it include and exclude)? In which ways is this narrative (ethically) productive for society, in which ways is it limiting, and is it more productive or limiting?

The rhetorical artifact that I have chosen to investigate is the music video to the song “Blurred Lines”. Throughout the music video and lyrics, Robin Thicke depicts women in a way that is demeaning through the use of clothes, body positioning, and words. Both of these come together to form a narrative that Americans view women as weak-minded, animal-like, members of society that cannot think for themselves. which is overall unproductive and limiting to society because it suggests that men are easily able to take advantage of women which is disempowering.

The music video for the song “Blurred Lines” by Robin Thicke, Pharrell Williams, and T.I. was a dance-pop song from the past that came out with a video to go along with it and it featured young women as well as the artists themselves throughout the entirety of it. 

Foss (2004) describes a narrative to be a unified subject that must contain some sort of causal or contributing relationship within the events of the story. 

In “Blurred Lines”, the way that Thicke portrays the women as animals that cannot think for themselves and he thinks of them as if they are a slab of meat and then on top of that, he is trying to use other forms of persuasion to get them to interact with them. In the song, Thicke says, “Ok, now he was close. Tried to domesticate you. But you're an animal. Baby, it's in your nature. Just let me liberate you. You don't need no papers. That man is not your maker. And that's why I'm gon' take a good girl”. He starts off by degrading the women by classifying them as animals and therefore, that is the first event in the story that contributes to the second statement of him saying that he is going to take a girl that does not know how to think for herself and then take advantage of her by making her be his own property. 

To elaborate on the language that was used, when Thicke says, “Tried to domesticate you. But you’re an animal. Baby it’s in your nature”, the use of “animal” and “nature” implies that there is this undeniable truth that women are easily tamed because it is simply who they are. It creates a sense of one gender being stronger and more superior than the other gender. He constantly compares the two genders in similar ways and separates them from male to female with the male being the animal tamer and the female being the animal. 

Moving on to the visual aspect of the video, Robin Thicke ignores any women that deviates from the norm. In the video, the type of women that are shown not only have a certain body type, but also have certain body language that shows that they are trying to fit this animal-type behavior. It does not show diversity because every single woman that is in the video is wearing some sort of white bralette and undergarments which goes on to explain that they are trying to depict the women as following the herd. At one point, Pharrell Williams is being dragged around by the woman by her hair. She uses her own hair as a leash and that depicts the women as being of animalistic nature. The hair being used as a leash displays this dominant role that the male is portrayed as because he is on the end of the leash that has control. Even though it is the female that is leading the male, he still has the control to bring her back to him whenever he feels the need. 

Braun (2011) uses her research method of comparing narratives from the lives of women and their values through looking at location, privilege, and race and it further explains how narratives work by looking at multiple parts to an individual’s reasons for why they value what they do. This is applied to “Blurred Lines” by further explaining the reason for certain people acting a certain way towards women. Braun explains her findings as an intersectionality of possibilities to why some people act the way that they due and by applying that concept of narratives to Thicke’s song, there can be a reason to why they depicted women the way that they did. The upbringing of Thicke’s life could be described as more patriarchal in his personal household than someone else’s or he might not have had a father figure and that is why he displays and treats women the way that he did in his music video. He might lack the certain lessons that his parents could have given him and therefore, does not see women as equals. This article furthers the investigation to why people do what they do and why they treat each other the way that they do. 

Another thing that could have possibly pushed him to create the music and video that he did is the role that society has funneled him into. He is trying to appeal to the society that praises a heterosexual, dominant male that can go to a party and get any woman that he desires. Similarly to what Braun says in her research, there is a reason why men depict women in this way in music videos and it is because of the social roles that society has put on not only women, but for men as well.

In conclusion, the narrative of the cause and effect or in other words, one leading to the other, Robin Thicke describes women as being animalistic through the use of his words and the visuals in his music video. There are other factors that go into why people create the music and music videos that they do and it is because of upbringing and society. In today’s society, by allowing the media to display women as animals that can be tamed, it is only logical to conclude that there are going to be men that believe this and their next actions would be to take advantage of them. 

Braun, Yvonne A. “Left High and Dry.” International Feminist Journal of Politics, vol. 13, no. 2, 2011, pp. 141–162., doi:10.1080/14616742.2011.560037.

Foss, S.K. (2004). Narrative criticism. Rhetorical criticism (3rd ed.) (pp. 333-341). Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press.

YouTube Link: Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyDUC1LUXSU 

picture link: https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.newstatesman.com%2Fculture%2Fmusic-theatre%2F2019%2F10%2Fhow-blurred-lines-scandal-changed-pop&psig=AOvVaw0iDszsvXaPqvOLEvSwbL-B&ust=1583181552044000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAMQjB1qFwoTCOjF74OR-ucCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD 

[auroraphilealis]

Hey! I've been reading your work for a while now. Actually both yours and Julia's for a while. And I've only just finished catching up with Steal My Heart. And I had some like constructive criticism? Don't take me the wrong way. I love both of your writing and thought this might help for your next story, because I really would like to see you both collaboration again. Okay so the part where they are on the journey, the whole I love you, trust me thing, gets repeated a lot of times(1/?)

Like maybe twice is enough to get the point across to the reader and the insecure character. The dragon fight scene chapter was brilliant and the whole build up to their relationship was amazing as well. Things I found kind of lacking- For Dan being the villain turned hero, there wasn't much delving into his villainous story except yeah bad things I did them. (2/?) The other lacking thing was other gender/sexuality characters. So there was Cornelia, Phil's mum and the witch. Why not make Brandon a mtf trans character or a badass lesbian or Chris a mad but fucking smart woman? For a story where everyone considers homosexuality normal (which should be every story ever!) I found a strong lack of female and other sexuality characters. (3/?)But really feel free to ignore me. I'm just a small bunch of stupid molecules held together by biology. I only felt like expressing my opinion because I love this story and thought it could be much better and I have always loved both of your works. Please don't take me the wrong way. Share this with Julia if you'd like or ignore me completely. I'm sorry if I crossed a line. I hope you both are doing well and never stop writing! Bye (4/4)

I’m going to be honest here. I understand where you’re coming from, and I can recognize that you in no way intended to upset me, and that, at the very least, you didn’t say these things with the intent to cause any kind of fight. You meant no harm, and therefore I answer this message purely because I feel I have something very important to say about some of the points you brought up, and I think that this is a good excuse for me to bring up my thoughts, even while knowing that you didn’t mean harm in sending me this message. 

1. The reason the whole I love you, trust me thing gets repeated so many times is due to the fact that these two people are from very, very different walks of life that, in the end, should mark them as enemies. They’re relationship begins as enemies. They have no reason to trust one another, and the theme needed to be echoed time and time again to show the struggle that they are both going through in terms of trusting each other. At any one second, they are terrified that their partner is going to turn on them and turn out to just be using them for one thing or another. 

2. Dan isn’t a villian turned hero. That’s the whole point. Dan isn’t a villian, he’s just someone who is viewed as a villian by people who would see his theiving as villianous. It’s the classic Robin Hood story, stealing from the rich to give to the poor, and being a hero all along. The story arc is that Phil discovers the truth behind his own fucked up World. At the same time, I can agree that in editing we did add a lot of Dan talking about horrible things he has done or has had to do but glossed over them, and we could have made that a bit better in the end.

4. The lack of sexuality in the characters is on purpose. The concept of sexuality doesn’t exist in the world we created. People don’t feel a need to use the terms that we created in our world, because the characters in this world have no concept on sexuality based hate. It doesn’t matter who they find most attractive, because no one cares, and that was the biggest thing I strove to weave into this world; the concept of normalizing sexuality and turning it into something that just... is a kind of utopia from hate based on sexuality. I know it’s not realistic, but that doesn’t matter. Not every story needs to be as realistic as possible. 

3. This is the point that I find incredibly important. What upset me was this idea that every single story needs to include one of each kind of character. There should be only one gay man, one gay women, one bisexul person, one pansexual, one strong female, one strong male but not too strong cause men already have a million stories about them that include them being strong. What upset me was the idea that our story wasn’t enough because we chose to focus on YouTube characters known to be in Dan and Phil’s lives, and also Dan and Phil themselves. What upsets me is this idea that our story isn’t good enough because we should have made Brandon a female instead of a male just so we could have more female representation. What upsets me is that despite going to great lengths to do the one thing I wanted to do, which was to normalize the LGBT community, people feel that we didn’t go far enough because we chose to focus on two characters who never use a label, but who also happen to be male, and surround them with who JUST SO HAPPEN TO BE male characters. What upsets me is this idea of having to pander to everyone and create the perfect story by making every single one of my readers happy by including them in the story in one way or another. When does it end? Never. Any story I, my co-author, us together, any other write, creates, will NEVER be enough. There will always be something more we need to add, more kinds of characters, more representation, and it’s not possible. We wrote this story for fun. We don’t get paid for it. We have spent an entire YEAR working on this to make it as beautiful as possible, and to be attacked because our representation wasn’t enough... that makes me want to give up. 

Imagine if we had made the Duke, a Duchess for the sake of having two people in Phil’s life of different genders trying to court him. People would hate us for making the female character into a villian, for making the gay aspect of the story better then the “straight” one. Imagine if we’d made Brandon a woman. She looks up to Dan more than anything, and people would be mad that we’d put her in a position of being “less than a man”. 

Nothing we could have done was every going to please everyone. So please, stop attacking others because their story isn’t perfect enough.

@ineverhadmyinternetphase Please feel free to add anything you want. 

[hetmusic]

Women in Music: A Year in Action | HumanHuman

Here we go again! One year on from our article ‘Women in the Music Industry’ and the overwhelmingly supportive response that followed we’re ready to take a retrospective look at what’s been happening in the world of music since then. We’ve brought together a collective of new commentators, including musicians, writers, PRs, event organisers, managers and a radio producer, to give their spin on what it’s currently like for women in the music business.

This time around I asked each of our contributors the same three questions; since last year’s International Women’s Day, what has been your highlight for women in music? what are your thoughts on the visible representation of women in the music industry? moving forward, what changes still need to happen? The answers are a window in a community who are extremely passionate about this topic, and whilst it’s essential that we shed light on the serious issues, the overriding message is one of celebration and positivity.

“I've definitely noticed a more tight-knit community between women in music, which we need to only continue and strengthen.”— Missy Scheinberg, Lunatic Entertainment

Last year one of the hot topics surrounding gender inequality in music was the lack of female representation at the majority of music festivals. Most notable was Reading and Leeds Festival, as highlighted by Crack in the Road editor Josh Dalton with his viral editing of the line-up, which revealed a paltry ten female and mixed acts. The unapologetic response from Festival Republic boss Melvin Brenn, who rather naively stated that “gone are the days where a band was four guys” (via Gigwise), further emphasised how deeply ingrained ignorance of this issue is. While Festival Republic still appears unable to provide a single female headliner - 2016’s choices are an unimaginative selection of Biffy Clyro, Fall Out Boy, Foals, Disclosure and The Red Hot Chilli Peppers - other events are making moves to correct this imbalance. In an interview with Noisey, Glastonbury Festival organiser Emily Eavis states that “we are strong on women this year” and her enthusiastic mention of female MCs like Little Simz and Lady Leshurr is encouraging.

Some have taken it even further by offering female-only line ups at their events, such as Burger Records’ festival Burger A Go Go. Not only is this an excellent name, but their no-dudes rule made room for awesome headliners Best Coast and Dum Dum Girls in 2015, as well as instantly recognisable names like Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon and Cat Power and Kathleen Hanna (in new project The Julie Ruin.) Speaking to Broadly., co-organiser Lee Rickard explains that the festival is “more of a fun statement than a feminist statement. We're not overtly political, but obviously it does reverberate. I think it makes a statement without having to make a statement; that we can easily put together a bill of this caliber. Hopefully it will make other festivals think twice.” One of our own contributors Erika Alvarez is also hoping to interrupt the pattern with her non-profit event A Great Escape Festival, and she has her own view on why there’s a favourable bias towards male musicians at festivals: “When a band’s demographic is mostly female, they are automatically deemed as unworthy of respect, but if their demographic is mostly male the words “legendary” and “influential” are the first to come to mind.” Being judged primarily on their gender or that of their fans is also a concern for mixed alt-rock band Wyldest, whose female members Zoe Mead and Holly Mullineaux cringe at the idea of their fans liking them simply because of they are women. With this in mind, they give a nod to Savages as a band who aren’t evaluated by their gender but by their music. Mullineaux even paraphrases a statement from Savages’ Jehnny Beth in an interview with Broadly., "Being a woman in music is like being a woman eating a sandwich." Basically, these females musicians don’t consider that they’re doing anything outside the realms of normality, they’re just being themselves.

“It’s incredible to meet both male and female musicians at shows, but when I’m playing within a female dominated line-up, I really have this sense of affirmation with the other female musicians.”— Zoe Mead, Wyldest

This view of music festivals as a world of extremes - either as a blatant machoism or feminist statement - is one that we’ve become rather used to, but hopefully not for long. One event that has already achieved the ideal of equal gender representation is Wavelength Festival, which this year welcomed a mixed bag of headliners (including Duchess Says, Foxes in Fiction and Foxtrott) and more than 50 percent of the stage slots were filled by female musicians. The real achievement lies in the fact that this fair representation of artists regardless of their gender is actually unintentional, as outlined by Artistic Director and co-founder Jonathan Bunce: “It's happened three years in a row, so this theme has just sort of emerged. It wasn't like we sat down and said, 'We have to have a female headliner every night.' There was no grand design. There are just so many talented women making music right now and I think that us, as programmers, are just responding to that” (via Noisey). Missy Scheinberg, who works at Lunatic Entertainment, also urges talent-buyers to take note of these mixed line-ups, especially Australia’s Laneway Festival, which this year has topped their bill with Chvrches, Grimes, Beach House, and Purity Ring. This emphasis on deserved recognition as opposed to the more forced positive discrimination is definitely the way forward for everyone involved in the music industry.

One area of the music industry that still leaves a lot to be desired in terms of the attitude towards women is music videos. These visual aids are an incredibly powerful tool that has flourished throughout the MTV years and onto a generation of YouTubers. Considering this, it’s quite extraordinary that amongst all of the beautiful, artistic, groundbreaking, politically and culturally charged videos out there that the majority of our focus lands on those with the most skin on show. From Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball” to Nicki Minaj’s “Anaconda” to Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” to Iggy Azalea and Jennifer Lopez’s “Booty”, these controversial and highly confusing examples of female objectification are well within the view of the public. As Daily Telegraph journalist Justin Coulson questions, “They might be masquerading as empowered femininity, but what are they selling?” accompanied by a natural concern for what his daughters will come to know as normal behaviour. This power struggle is brought further into the light by Louise O’Neil at The Irish Examiner in her piece ‘Are music videos too sexual or do they represent power in women?’, which details that in recent years two camps have emerged in the world of music videos. On one hand, there are those who “have decided to either completely reject the pressure to perform in a sexually suggestive manner”, and on the other, there are those who “have claimed ownership of their sexuality and their bodies.” What’s important here is that artists should have the choice to use their public visibility to explore all forms of identity, rather than one that is forced upon them by society’s warped expectations. As music journalist Christal Yuen quite rightly states:

“There's a lot of misplaced eroticism in painting women as direct projections of their songs.”— Christal Yuen, writer for HumanHuman and Sodwee

There are plenty of current musicians who use their artistry and physicality to embark on new ways of defying gender stereotypes. Examples such as FKA twigs who lines up portrayals of femininity like dominoes in her “MSLL155X” video and Rosie Lowe whose dual metaphor for strength and vulnerability is seen in the undressed frankness of her single “Woman”. Another example is Grimes, who is well known for her array of performance personas and in The FADER’s ‘Art Angel’ documentary, Claire Boucher explains that “Grimes as one person cannot represent more than a couple of ideas. That’s why I started developing some of the other characters - like, really abstract from who I am or how I am [...] Not everything has to fully reflect you.” This willingness to explore how an artist can portray themselves, female or otherwise, has the power to directly influence others in the industry. Our contributor Tsar B, an emerging artist known for her dark and multi-cultural sounding pop, finds Grimes extremely inspiring, especially “the way she emphasises her autonomy and strength, as well as her unacceptance of parochialism.” As we see in the documentary, it’s not only her stage presence that Grimes has under complete artistic control, but the production aspect of her music is also her sole responsibility.

“Sometimes women in the music industry are perceived as an attractive medium between a bunch of guys that make the music and the general public, while actually people fail to realize that they are the foundation of the whole story.”— Tsar B

One artist who has been determined in sharing her whole story is Lorely Rodriguez AKA Empress Of, who released her debut self-produced record Me in September last year. Contributor Alliz Espi, who runs Songololo Music, picks up this album as her personal highlight: “her work as a producer (beat-making included) of her own record, has been one of the first on the scene which was instantly celebrated, rather than being a question - ‘did she really do that?’” Empress Of’s evolution into producer and sound engineer is testament to what can happen when musicians are forthcoming about what they want. Rodriguez recalls the result of being team up with another producer where “It just ended up sounding like that person's music. I thought, ‘this is my first record, I need it to sound like it's coming from me’” (Beggars Music). After that epiphany, she was able to discover herself as a recorder, producer, artist and most importantly as a person. However, it’s not always the case that production credits are placed with the right person. A recent example would be Björk and her Vulnicura LP, in which it was initially misreported that Arca produced the album, rather than the truth which is a co-production between Björk and Arca. In an interview with Pitchfork, Björk talks about the courage it took the put the world right, “I didn’t want to talk about that kind of thing for 10 years, but then I thought, “You’re a coward if you don’t stand up. Not for you, but for women. Say something.”” It’s important for these prominent women to speak up, but it’s equally essential that men within the business lend their voice, such as Björk associates the Haxan Cloak and Matmos who insistently correct the media on their secondary role in the production of these records.

“We have evolved away from a history of music-engineering being male dominated, we've ditched the lab coats and clipboards (literally). But it still is a numbers game.”— Alliz Espi, Songololo Music

As Alliz Espi suggests, it is still numbers game, but the books are finally starting to balance, as reflected in the increased recognition of females at certain awards shows. Keeping on the production theme, the contribution from Women Produce Music (a social media community that promotes female producers, engineers and musicians) highlights this year’s Music Producers Guild Awards, in which Olga Fitzroy received a gong for Recording Engineer of the Year, Catherine Marks was recognised as Breakthrough Producer of the Year, and FKA twigs won UK Single for “Pendulum” and UK Album of the Year for LP1 - both of which she co-produced. It wasn’t only the MPGs where we saw a truer reflection of the arts industry, as Regina Valdameri points out, “At this year's Grammys in the Best Rock Performance category, for example, Foo Fighters were the only all-male band, with Alabama Shakes, Florence + the Machine, Wolf Alice and Elle King filling up the remaining nominations.” The Fives Ws Of editor also remarks that seven of the fifteen artists who made the BBC’s Sound of 2016 longlist were women, including runners-up Alessia Cara and Nao. This is certainly a start for greater equality amongst musicians, but the scene isn’t so rosy everywhere.

Another opinion maker Katerina Koumourou (ANASA PR, JD Management and Cozy Mag) draws our attention to Billboard’s Power 100 from this year, which was critiqued by Suzanne Harrington in The Independent for being made up of 127 men and only 14 women. This same article also discusses the unavoidable topic of current music media, that is the recent Kesha case in which her allegations of sexual assault against producer Dr Luke and request to exit the contract with him were dismissed by a New York Supreme Court Judge on the grounds that it’s “commercially reasonable” for Kesha to remain in the contract. This outcome reveals just where the priorities lie for those at the top of the industry food-chain, and for many it’s sickening to think money comes before an individual’s safety and artistic freedom. However, there is a positive side to this story and that’s female solidarity, with Kesha’s peers publicly expressing their support for her, such as Adele when accepting her awards at the BRITS, Taylor Swift with her $250,000 donation and Lady Gaga’s stand of solidarity at the Oscar’s to name a few.

“Females standing together for their voice to be heard is empowering and I guess it's comforting that she is not standing completely alone with this.”— Katerina Koumourou, ANASA PR, JD Management and Cozy Mag

We might still have a way to go, but it’s a fact that women are stronger than ever before in the music industry, as publicly displayed by Kesha’s celebrity supporters, but also by the growing number of successful women in the business. Whether that’s a music PR like Charmfactory’s Director of Communications Lorraine Long, who has never experienced prejudice on the basis of her gender and strongly believes that “Your sex should be irrelevant, it should come down to being the best person for the job and if you're doing a good job you should be rewarded fairly and equally.” Or a radio producer like Elise Cobain, who works on BBC Radio 1 and 1xtra and is especially enthusiastic about the progression of women in her business sector. Cobain provides a roll call of prominent BBC radio presenters: Annie Mac, Clara Amfo, A Dot and Jamz Supernova, and the list goes on once you step into radio production territory. It’s not only the traditional airwaves that are now transmitting a more representative voice, but online radio is also a bastion of equality. The Electronic Beats listing in ‘Meet the women who are killing it in online radio’ praises significant producers, hosts and managers of digital radio stations. A standout comment made for the article by Tabitha Thorlu-Bangura, a key figure of NTS Radio, asserts the need for greater variety within the industry. As Thorlu-Bangura states “it’s really crucial to work with people from a diverse range of backgrounds in order to have a wide range of perspectives on music and life in general.”

“I'm seeing more and more that women who work hard are being rewarded with brilliant jobs and career progression seemingly regardless of their gender. This change in attitude is something to be celebrated.”— Elise Cobain, BBC Radio 1/1xta Producer

That need for a more diverse demographic across the board is one that is echoed throughout all of our contributions. Katerina Koumourou asks “Is there enough diversity (regarding gender AND race) within these corporations to encourage the changes needed?” and at this moment in time the answer is probably no, at least not yet. This questioning attitude is shared by Tracy Dempsey, a Music Psychologist and creator of Sofa Sessions, which is a music-art showcase hosted at various venues throughout Belfast. This event offers a regular roster of mixed gender artists, but Dempsey believes that she should open up the diversity even further by “showcasing people from various minority groups who might be struggling for visibility, not for tokenistic reasons, but to break a self-perpetuating cycle of invisibility leading to more invisibility.” That’s probably the most important message for International Women’s Day, to break the cycle of invisibility, and where the music industry is concerned we’ve already taken considerable steps to do so, particularly in the online world. As Christal Yuen points out “the digital world of music allows for these artists to release music and be judged on their skill rather than their appearance.” There’s a reason that so many musicians release music virtually and why journalists now live on laptops rather than in newspapers; the internet can be a megaphone for the marginalised.

“The democratisation of the internet, allowing anyone to share their story, be heard, and have that story amplified by others joining in, is hugely powerful.”— Tracy Dempsey, creator of Sofa Sessions and Soulambition

For my last question to the opinion-makers, I asked them “Moving forward, what changes still need to happen?”, and the general consensus is that we should continue to celebrate women in the music industry, we should keep asking questions, and we shouldn’t settle for anything less than equality amongst all genders. Like Songololo Music’s Alliz Espi puts it “the more it’s celebrated now, the more female musicians may dare to take that journey.” Therefore, it’s our responsibility as current commentators and members of the music community to transmit a message of positivity and change, not only for ourselves, but for future generations. No one puts this intention more candidly than music blogger Regina Valdameri, who believes “The ultimate goal is that we won't be surprised anymore when a woman has success in the music industry, or in any industry really, because it will have become the norm.” If we continue down this path of positive visibility and mutual support (all genders included), then one day seeing a woman in the music industry will be as surprising as seeing a woman eat a sandwich.

https://humanhuman.com/articles/women-in-music-a-year-in-action

[tessatechaitea]

Dark Nights: Metal #2

I could tell this cover was by John Romita Jr. because of Batman's stupid batarang. I believe that's the specialized batarang used for attaching trees to super-villains¹.

This is just cruel. Stop manipulating Swamp Thing into doing your dirty work, Batman!

Now that I know the Batmen were all members of the Bat-family, I want to know which jerk was captured by Aquaman. So embarrassing! I bet it was Red Hood. It turns out Batman was in Robin's VW Minivan which is what they all should have guessed because I guessed it but forgot to mention it. Now you're probably thinking, "Oh right! I bet you did! What a liar!" But you should know I'm telling the truth because I could have just as easily (and more believably!) gone back and edited the review by saying what I was going to say before I got distracted! You know what? I'm going to do it anyway! Fuck your sense of reality! Anyway, Superman figures it out and swoops down to threaten Batman. He picks him up and flies him into the sky saying, "All I have to do is barely squeeze. You can't even imagine how little pressure I need to add to my grip before your torso just rips like wet toilet paper. I mean, it's difficult not to explode you! You realize how many mathematical calculations I'm doing every minute just so I don't destroy everything I touch?! Imagine walking around a world built out of tissue paper and trying to navigate it without destroying it completely?! To me, you Earthlings are less substantive than a jelly doughnut!" But Batman is all, "If you squash me, you'll die because I drank a gallon of Kryptonite after getting out of the shower this morning! I'm like a deadly piñata!" Fun Fact #1: To get the "n" with the tilde on it, I looked up "jalapeno" on Google so I could copy and paste the ñ. I don't know why I didn't just look up piñata!" Fun Fact #2: When I just went to past in the ñ in piñata in the previous sentence, instead of typing CTRL-V, I typed CTRL-N and just about shit myself when my entire review disappeared! Luckily I realized pretty quickly that I'd just opened a new browser page. Batman finally decides to explain everything to Superman instead of being killed by him. It's a simple choice, really. But it's not a simple explanation! On no! The explanation is going to go pretty deep into Scott Snyder's previous story arcs to try to explain the most glaring errors in each of them.

This is even more convoluted than I was expecting! Perfect!

Now it's time to speculate on the fifth element! I bet it's Plasticmannium! Or maybe whatever shit the Orb of Ra is made from. Oh! Maybe it's Kryptonite and Batman doesn't realize he's already become the doorway because he drank that gallon of it earlier! Wonder Woman arrives to make Superman doubt Batman is being honest with him. Only Superman would ever believe anything out of Batman's mouth! He's so credulous! Even Ma and Pa Kent were fond of saying, "That boy'll believe a sack of worms if they told him they were a vagina!" That is so a Midwestern saying. Since Batman is obviously lying, Superman takes a drastic measure.

Superman didn't do this to save the world. He just did it because he's fucking sick of Batman.

Before you start sucking your own dicks (both figurative and literal ones so that all genders are included!) everybody at Marvel thinking DC has just flushed itself down the drain by killing the only one of their characters anybody really cares about, it turns out it wasn't actually Batman. Superman just killed Clayface. Although Clayface can't really die, I don't think. He's like an Oompa Loompa: immortal and weary of life. Meanwhile in Antarctica (unless it's actually the Arctic, seeing as how DC has had some poor history with keeping the two places straight), the Legion of Doom's headquarters rises from a lava pit. The Legion of Doom is currently staffed by all of DC's immortal characters. There's Vandal Savage and The Phantom Stranger and the other immortal guy and that other one plus the one that's immortal and also Cain and Abel and Lady Blackhawk and Morgaine le Fey and Shazam's wizard and all the other ones I can't think of. Their plan is to shoot the astral brain of the Anti-Monitor through the Rock of Eternity and into the core of the Multiverse. I don't know if that will save the world or it's just something they want to do for the lulz. Superman and Wonder Woman finally track the real Batman to the tomb of Prince Khufu. Just before they get there, Dream gives Batman a little advice about how to find his way home when this shit all goes wrong. And it all goes wrong pretty quickly. After Batman pulls Baby Darkseid out of his backpack and threatens Superman with it, I think, "Wait. What?" Um, anyway, it's all a trap! Batman knows everything except where to find the tomb of Khufu because he actually entered the tomb of Hath Set! I know, right? What an idiot! Now the Strigydae are about to mantle the fuck out of him! It's not as confusing as I make it sound, I assure you! I mean, sure, the Court of Owls shows up and some black squiggles take out Superman and Wonder Woman after which the Court pours a substance called Batmanium all over Batman so that the doorway can open for Barbatos. But that's not technically confusing! It's just, um, ridiculous! Batman turns into a cosmic doorway through which steop out eight Dark Batmonsters. One is Aquabat. One is Doomsbat. One is Cybat. One is Wonder Bat. One is Flashbat. One is Green Lanterbat. One is Jokerbat. And the last one is probably BarBATos. Unless he's The Phantom Strangebat. In other words, the Earth is fucked. Because if the Justice League can't even beat one Batman, how are they going to beat however many I just said stepped through the gate? What was it? Seven? Eight? So that's the story of Metal! I bet you all wet your pants over it like I did, right? I mean, I think I just wet my pants because I took too long writing this and didn't get up to go to the bathroom. But I probably would have from the excitement and intrigue and Batman's ultimate failure! That part was really great! ________________________________________________________ ¹I didn't just make that up. See whichever stupid issue of All Star Batman had that bit in it.

[once-upon-a-time-psychblog-blog]

Once Upon a Waste of Time - An open Letter to Adam Horowitz and Eddy Kitsis.

Dear Adam and Eddy,

After watching #OnceUponaTime #OUAT & had a chance to process it there are a number of things I’m really not happy or comfortable with and I would really like them addressed.

Why did you deem it perfectly acceptable to use the term “nut house” in the show? Please don’t ever use that term again. It’s stigmatising mental illness & there’s enough of that in the world already. It only endorses name calling being okay to use against those who suffer with mental illnesses.

The Q&A was talking of hope and belief. But when it comes to the marginalised oppressed groups it was pitiful in representation. In fact, the number of POC and LGBTQ characters you had on your show were extremely disproportionate to the real world. Most of your POC characters ended up with terrible fates. Such as Merlin, Stanham (Tin man), Marian, I don’t even remember what happened to Rapunzel… yikes! Only one POC couple Aladdin and Jasmine represented POC with a happy ending. I don’t even recall seeing any others present for happy endings. That’s how disproportionate it was with POC representation.

The one f/f queer pairing you had, which was written by two of your MALE employees in your writing team and therefore had no feminine perspective, was rushed together without development and made it into some stereotype of lesbians meet and fall in love in a day and move in together. That was eye rolling enough, but to top it off, they only got one episode out of six years of your show, and were not even even present for the happy endings moment. Seemingly nobody thought to invite them to the wedding, which even if the actresses couldn’t make, would have taken a moment to write in saying Ruby and Dorothy couldn’t make it, but send their love and congratulations. We didn’t even see them in Oz when Zelena took everyone back to her Emerald City castle. I hate to break it to you guys but treating a f/f ship differently to that of the heterosexual pairings you have on the show, is not equality. It’s merely ticking a box to say yep we covered LGBTQ, and it is in that inequality that gave it the “I’m not homophobic… but” feel to it. The bottom line is that there shouldn’t be inequality. Even the disproportionate numbers of LGBTQ and POC characters to heterosexual and white characters ratio comes across as sexuality and racial inequality.

Regina being a middle aged Latina woman only got apples and dwarfs showing her acceptance which she has been getting for 4 seasons now. She’s happy with herself, I get that, but why did the Latina queen only ever get heartbreak in love and not even get a romantic love in her life for her happy ending? Are Latina’s destined to be without a lover? Or is it just middle aged women destined to be alone if they haven’t found a lover by a certain point? I understand she would have been grieving Robin, but there wasn’t even a hint of hope that she could be with someone in the future. Not a start of anything. Zelena being older than Regina didn’t have one either. So all the middle aged female fans who are currently alone right now, who watched the show for a bit of hope that maybe they would find love one day, didn’t get that hope as they weren’t validated.

I understand happiness doesn’t always involve having a lover in your life but to the marginalised oppressed groups Latinas, middle aged women, and LGBTQ, you didn’t deliver any substantial hope for them to believe that they too could find happiness because you did not represent them. Didn’t even represent anyone in the trans community at all. So all those people who watched with the hope of a “Modern Fairytale” didn’t take away with them a message of hope and belief as they weren’t accurately represented. They just took home the message that everyone else deserved a happy ending but them.

And the final thing I’m really annoyed with, is that you had the greatest love story with SwanQueen. Every single message on the show about what love is, they demonstrated. SwanQueen in my opinion, was the greatest love story never told. Six years and one kinda uncomfortable looking hug is unrealistic for best friends, especially with the way the actors were directed to play them, and with all the queer-baiting subtext. But to add insult to injury you have the same initial situation of a kid looking for and finding their parent, and have openly stated that Henry and his daughter’s mother who he will meet again will have an epic love story… so basically it’s pretty much SwanQueen but the heterosexual version of it. The SwanQueen story was so good, but just not heteronormative to tell on TV. I want to know, WHY? And please don’t use the excuse “family show” anymore because the sexual content of this show, albeit no sex was actually taking place in it, does not make this family viewing. Nor does violence and murder either.

I’d like some answers around this and not to be ignored or blocked because you don’t like me putting you in front of a mirror to examine yourselves. There was even a time you baited Swen in an obvious way by tweeting a script tease of a SwanQueen scene which you had cut from the show!

Adam, you have stalked Swen accounts and there are multiple cases where there is evidence of you doing that. I want to know why you used us for viewership if your heteronormative love story was something you were so certain of being successful?

You had a little over 12 million viewers at the start of your show. And the latest figures were around 2.8 million if I’m not mistaken. How do you deem this as success? You used Swen to keep you afloat for another season didn’t you? You could at the very least have the decency to be honest and admit that.

You’ve lost a viewer in me, not just with Once Upon a Time, but with all future shows you decide to create, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who has made this decision. Once Upon a Time was sold as a “Modern Fairytale” but that was false advertising really. The only thing modern about it was the characters had cell phones and spoke of Hamilton tickets, oh and Snow White held a sword for the first time… 🤦🏼‍♀️ Big whoop! Nothing modern here or even groundbreaking. Same old story of predominantly white, cis gendered, heterosexual couples getting their happy endings and leaving everyone else lacking them. If that’s your idea of a “modern fairytale”, then I’m sure all your future endeavours as writers will be just as same old, same old.